It’s an unseasonably warm night in Calgary as Revolution rolls into town. We’re closing in on the Great American Nightmare Pay Per View, and one of the matches already booked involves Tony ‘The Grin’ Gamble defending his recently won 5-Star title against the rejuvenated Jay Phoenix. Speaking of The Eternal Flame, he walks through the parking lot towards the arena. He has a cell phone pressed to his ear and pulls a small suitcase behind him. Inside the Pengrowth Saddledome, the crowd explodes.

Crowd: RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: (OSV) Jay Phoenix is arriving at the arena. He’s part of our main event tonight, teaming with a most unlikely partner in Jason Snow as they face off against Tony Gamble and Kaiser Vashaun.

Richard: (OSV) Snow might as well be in a handicap match.

Phoenix smiles as he talks into the phone.

Jay: Yeah, I know. I miss you, too, Rick. But don’t worry, I’ll be on the first flight home after the show.

Phoenix gets about ten feet from the back door when suddenly it bursts open. Several massive forms rush through the door, making a bee-line for Jay. The Eternal Flame’s eyes widen as he releases the handle of his suit case and lowers the phone from his ear.

Jay: What the…?

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his question as a right hand from Chainz lands across Phoenix’s jaw. The phone drops to the ground as Hessian and Kazys Jankauskas swarm the reeling Phoenix, pounding him to the pavement with a flurry of powerful fists and forearms.

Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: (OSV) WHAT THE HELL’S GOING ON HERE?! WHO DO THESE ANIMALS THINK THEY ARE?!

Richard: (OSV) There are an infinite number of things I could say here.

Chainz smirks sadistically as he picks up the cell phone, hearing Rick calling out from the other end of the line.

"Jay? JAY?! What’s going on? Are you okay?"

Phoenix tries to fight back as Kazys and Hessian drag him to his feet, but he’s overmatched by the two massive men. They lift Jay into the air above their heads, then run toward the wall of the arena. The Eternal Flame is tossed like a human javelin into the solid concrete wall.

"JAY!? HELLO?!"

Chainz slowly raises the phone to his ear as Rick continues to call out for his partner.

Chainz: Sorry, Rick, but Jay’s a little busy right now. He’ll have to call you back later…if he’s able to talk, that is.

"What? Who IS this?! Where’s Jay? Hel-"

Michael Sloan flips the phone shut and discards it back to the ground where he found it. He then strides over to where Hessian and Kazys are working Phoenix over against the wall.

Nick: (OSV) Chainz is sick!

Richard: (OSV) You’re just now figuring that out? Get with the program, Nick.

Hessian connects with a devastating right hand to the side of Phoenix’s head, which Kazys follows up with a knee to Jay’s midsection.

Jay: OOMPH!

Phoenix doubles over as the air is forced from his lungs. He struggles for breath as all three men begin to batter him down to the ground once again. Fists, forearms, and feet all find places to strike Phoenix as he does his best to shield himself from the barrage. As the three men continue their dismantling of Phoenix, the door to the arena opens once again, albeit much more subtly this time around. Strutting out of the building, flanked by Elise Ares and Mr. Simmons, is The Greediest Player in the Game, Tyler Nelson. He nonchalantly walks over to the general vicinity of where Jay Phoenix is being accosted, seemingly trying to ignore the mayhem nearby. Nelson takes in a deep breath, as if trying to enjoy the Canadian air, then exhales in exaggerated fashion. Tyler is dressed in his wrestling gear, as he has a match just moments from now against Troy Douglas. He turns to Ares, who is playfully shadowboxing as she watches the beating ensue.

Tyler: Would you like to join in on the fun?

Elise: I would , but then I might break a nail. And I just paid to have them done. Don’t they look great?!

Ares shoves her fingers at Nelson’s face, causing him to recoil slightly. He feigns a smile and nods his head.

Tyler: They…look very nice.

The Havana Harlot smiles big as she takes the opportunity to look at the nails again herself, holding them out at arms distance in front of her face. Nelson clears his throat, which halts the previously relentless attack on Phoenix. The King of Greed kneels down beside the battered Phoenix, whose hair is mussed and lip bloodied.

Tyler: You know, Jay, it’s a shame things had to come to this. I would have much rather preferred that Lisa simply resigned and went along her merry way, but she’s too stubborn to realize what’s in the best interest not only for herself, but for everyone around her.

Nelson looks over the battered form of Jay Phoenix, curled up against the wall of the arena. He shakes his head slowly from side to side.

Tyler: You said a few weeks ago that you owed her for helping you with the Natas situation. Do you still think you owe her one, Jay, after she let this happen to you?

Nelson looks up at his cohorts, an arrogant smirk spreading across his face.

Nick: (osv) Tyler Nelson and his thugs are doing the same thing to Jay Phoenix that they did to Brandon Youngblood last week! Lisa Tyler has got to put a stop to this!

Richard: (osv) Why should she? This is great television!

Suddenly Phoenix springs to life, lunging at The Greediest Player in the Game. Nelson’s eyes widen as he falls backwards trying avoid the grasp of The Eternal Flame. Unfortunately for Jay, however, there is the matter of those three men who were so happily taking him to task just a few moments ago. They’re on him again, with Kazys and Hessian grabbing Jay’s arms and propping him up while Chainz buries his right hand into Phoenix’s belly. Shot after shot from Sloan send pulses of pain coursing through Jay’s body. An angry Nelson brushes some gravel and dirt from his hands as he rises to his feet, an angry scowl on his face.

Tyler: Put this piece of garbage where he belongs!

The King of Greed points in the direction of a large trash dumpster down along the building. Chainz lifts Jay’s head and measures him with one final hard right hand. The sound of flesh and bone colliding is sickening as Jay’s cheek is split open. Sloan shakes his right hand after that last shot as Kazys and Hessian drag Phoenix’s body toward the trash bin. The two men pick up a head of steam, each one cradling one of Phoenix’s arms while grabbing a hold of the waist of his pants. In unison, the two men use their built up momentum to use Phoenix like a battering ram, sending him smashing into the metal dumpster. A loud, echoing thud is heard as Phoenix's head slams into the trash bin. He lays next to it, nearly knocked into tomorrow, as Nelson leads his group back into the building.

Nick: (OSV) Will someone get out there to check on Jay Phoenix for God’s sake?! He needs some medical treatment right away!

Richard: (OSV) Hey, if Lisa Tyler isn’t going to put on a compelling product that management can sell to advertisers and networks, then Tyler Nelson sure as hell will. Imagine how things would be if he was actually in charge around here!

Nick: (OSV) We’ve already been down that dead end road once, Richard. We don’t need to revisit it.

An angry drumbeat mingles with heavy guitar rifts and the sound of ReVolution blasts through the speakers. The Sound of Madness.

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 shocks the world by winning the ReVolution 200 Battle Royal by eliminating his partner Elise Ares.

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 takes Jason Snow onto his shoulders, causing the crowd to explode with joy. He holds the top dog in PRIME a second before spiking him into the canvas with a Weight of the World.

Oh my, here we go...

Brandon Youngblood stands in the middle of the ring, sickening grin on his face and microphone in hand. The Pariah is back in PRIME.

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 stiffens the jaw of Troy Douglas with a right hand.

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,

Hoyt Williams smacks the forehead of Tony Tagliabue causing him to fall backwards flat as a board.

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

Benjamin Johnson smirks at the camera. Another of the new faces roaming through the halls.

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,

Tyler Nelson's bruised arm is raised into the air at Colossus VI, after his shocking upset over The Supreme Machine, Killean Sirrajin.

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.

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

Adam Garcia sneers into the millions of home watching ReVolution.

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 waves goodbye to The Anti-Superstar, Jason Natas, having finally defeated him at his own game.

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.

The Pengrowth Saddledome is electric. We don't mean run of the mill electric where everybody is happy to be there. This is a crowd that adores and appreciates the sport of professional wrestling. They understand the lineage and support all of the wrestlers who put their time and dedication into the business. Plus, nobody can recall the last time this building was graced with the greatness of ReVolution.

Pyrotechnics scream into the air off the stage, igniting the crowd even further. Overhead cameras span out into the throngs of adrenaline junkies, prepared to take the company one step closer to the Great American Nightmare. Those of the inebriated variety jump over one another to get a sliver of camera time. One person even smashes a beer glass on their head. Nice to see Sandman still has work.

The main camera switches over to Richard Parker, who overzealously stacks his papers. Nick Stuart looks calm and collected. Although, he's going to have to scream very loud to be heard over these maniacs.

Nick: WELCOME EVERYBODY TO REVOLUTION 207!

Richard: I'VE ALREADY GAINED TEN POUNDS FROM THE CANADIAN BACON!

Nick: We've got an action packed night for you folks this evening. Four barn burner matches that are sure to light up the landscape of PRIME. We are just two shows away from the Great American Nightmare.

Richard: Well, tonight it's going to be the Great Canadian Nightmare.

Nick: ...

The crowd goes quiet.

Crickets.

Motherfucking crickets.

Some of them even say eh at the end of each sound.

Nick: ...Anyway, to open up the evening it will be the always controversial Tyler Nelson taking on Troy Douglas.

Richard: And the Army of Nelson is in full force this evening as we just saw.

Nick: Jay Phoenix did not deserve such a brutal beating.

Richard: You play the game and sometimes get torched, brother.

Nick: Following that up, another member of Nelson's crew, Hessian, will go against the newcomer, Benjamin Johnson.

Richard: A massive opportunity for a massive man, but he's going against the biggest behemoth of them all.

Nick: And potential revenge from last week as Brandon Youngblood goes one on one with Elise Ares.

Richard: I fear for that pretty young thing. Youngblood is insane and after suffering the beating he did at their hands, she better hope it goes quick.

Nick: And a star studded Main Event as Universal Champion Jason Snow and his partner-

Richard: But...you know...not like that.

Nick: TAG TEAM Partner, Jay Phoenix, take on the even odder combination of Kaiser Vashaun and 5 Star Champion Tony Gamble.

Richard: Should be one hell of a match, although I'll definitely be torn on who to root for.

Nick: We know those booked for matches will be in the building, but you can bet a lot of the other stars shall be in attendance.

Richard: Let's jump start this night, baby!

Hoyt Williams: Hello America, here I stand in the pits of hell without protection or cover. It is known that only one nation is under God, and that nation is clearly not Canada. A disgusting and disturbing wasteland filled with moose, maple leafs, beer, and stupidity. A place where language is bizarre yet familiar to English, like an evil mirror image of our own souls stolen from the devil and educated on his decadence. What I will find is already know, but yet I must document it for the world to understand I’m not the bad guy, nor is God, nor is any other organized ethos you wish to blame. Hello I’m Hoyt Williams and this is Oh Canada: an investigation in debauchery.

The camera pans a sea of wrestling fans outside of the arena near a small stage that Hoyt is standing on with a back drop of a picture of Hoyt Williams with the Universal Title and God’s Championship.

Hoyt Williams: A mass of morons have assembled and tonight we will give them two options: Free beer or eternal salvation. Is the translator here?

Hoyt looks over to his assistant Tony Tagliabue who is standing next to a funny looking Canadian fellow with a big mustache. Tony gives Hoyt the thumbs up as the translator makes his way to a mic next to the one in the center of the stage with the RISP logo painted on the podium.

Tony Tagliabue: I have to find an ABM to get this guy his loonies or he won’t translate.

Hoyt Williams: Why is crapping crazy? What in God’s name is wrong with this place?

Tony Tagliabue: ABM is where you get loonies around here.

Hoyt Williams: This is insanity. What in God’s name are you talking about?

Tony Tagliabue: I have to run to the cash machine to get the guy his pay.

Hoyt Williams: Why didn’t you just say so? Ok you run and get his money and then be ready with the spray gun we’re going to get started right now he will get his money.

Hoyt walks up to the podium with the logo and nods to the translator letting him know the cash is on the way. The crowd boo’s wildly as Hoyt waits for them to simmer on down.

Hoyt Williams: Greetings Can-a-DUHHHH --I am your savior from AMERICA named HOYT WILLIAMS.

Translator: How's She Bootin'er Canada? I am your savior from the States, who goes by Hoyt Williams, Ah!

Hoyt watches for the translator to finish and his nod indicating he’s done.

Hoyt Williams: I am here to save you losers from your own vices: waking up every morning putting on your stylish sweat pants, guzzling your beer till you have a big fat beer belly, eating your doughnuts until you are void of all hope.

Translator: I am here ah, to save you hosers from your own troubles, waking up in your joggers and guzzling life juice to expand your Molson Muscle eating at Tim Hortons till you have no hope, ah!

The crowd boo’s loudly.

Hoyt Williams: I know! You should all be ashamed of each other.

Translator: You should all be hosing each other hosers.

Hoyt Williams: Yes, you are not serving God. What are you doing with your lives?

Translator: Yuppers, you are not serving God. Whadda'yat with yur lives?

Hoyt turns to the translator.

Hoyt Williams: I’m done with you, if these tards can’t understand GOD’S LANGAUGE OF ENGLISH, I have no use for them. Please, you are giving me a headache go on now get lost.

The man shrugs his shoulders and exits the stage leaving Hoyt standing alone facing the crowd of Canadians. He notices out of the corner of his eye that Jacob Cross is standing in the back of the crowd.

Hoyt Williams: You see sinners, God gives us all options, and we are defined by what we do with those options. You could have saved yourselves and migrated down to America and become real world class citizens a long time ago, but instead you decided to waste your lives living in this land of lackluster laziness. You Can-A-Dee-ANS have all the resources and all the land yet no motivation and no drive. So you sit around, drink your beer, screw your hairy-fat ugly-toothless women, watch hockey, and bitch about how nothing ever changes. The CHANGE IS IN YOU OH CAN-A-DUHHHHHH!

The crowd is now growing a bit restless as Cross just stands in the back with his arms folded in defiance.

Hoyt Williams: Right now, right here, I am giving you a choice. You can (AH) pick free Molson beer for everybody in attendance here right now or; (B) I can spray you all with holy water and save your soul. NOW WHICH IS IT?

The crowd makes their choice very fast as they start chanting "Molson" much to Hoyt’s prediction he shakes his head in disgust.

Hoyt Williams: So given the choice between salvation and more of the same you losers pick beer. Brilliant and this is why GOD hates you. This is why AMERICA is God’s nation and you people are nothing more than our lice. If I had it my way I would use some chemicals and wash you parasites away for good and turn Canada into a proud industrious nation of Hoyt’s Witnesses. In heaven we do not allow Canadians for a few reasons mainly those being you people are stupid, violent, ignorant, and smell of sodomy. So it’s the beer you want because you are greedy and sinful I get it.

Jacob Cross appears to have had enough as he makes his way through the crowd hopping on the stage to the delightful roar of the crowd. He steps over to the translator’s microphone.

Hoyt Williams: Oh? Now a word from my favorite realtor Jimmy Cross! Maybe he has some deals on some shacks or something.

Jacob Cross: I’m not here for jokes I’m here for truth. You act as if your words are the only ones that matter. WELLLLLL these people are not taking your salvation not because they don’t seek it, or God, but rather because IT’S NOT REAL COMING FROM YOU and they understand that you are nothing but a fraud, a con, a disgusting human being who prays on others using God’s name.

The crowd pops finally hearing what they’ve been waiting for somebody to say.

Hoyt Williams: Leviticus 19:11 "Do not steal. Do not lie. Do not deceive one another." For you Mr. Cross, a symbol of salvation and resurrection, wish to lie to these people, to rob them of the powers I extend to them from GOD himself. You sir, are Satan. You wish to crucify me? Hoyt Williams versus the cross how biblically poetic? You want to put me to death Cross because you fear my words and you know I am right? This all sounds very familiar don’t it? Silly Rabbit tricks are for kids, not for saviors. Unfortunately my purpose is not to accept death or die for anybody’s sins but rather to punish and cause pain those who CHOOSE to sin. Proverbs 6:12-15 "A scoundrel and villain, who goes about with a corrupt mouth, who winks with his eye, signals with his feet and motions with his fingers, who plots evil with deceit in his heart— he always stirs up dissension. Therefore disaster will overtake him in an instant; he will suddenly be destroyed—without remedy." Here you stand before me Cross stirring up dissension through lies. Tony hose the hosers down ah?

A back curtain drops reveling Tony Tagliabue standing behind a highly pressurized water cannon hooked up to a Molson truck. He flips the switch and a powerful stream blasts away aimed right at Cross who is pushed off the stage by the force of the beer. The crowd below catches him falling back with him as the people start to get soaked with beer. The stream is so forceful many are falling and scurrying away.

Hoyt Williams: Hebrews 10:30 "For we know him that hath said, Vengeance belongeth unto me, I will recompense, saith the Lord. And again, The Lord shall judge his people." America bear witness to the vileness that is Canada, for the lord’s work is done here!!! Back to you Richard and Dick.

The camera cuts back to inside the arena to the announce desk of Richard and Nick.

Nick: It’s Nick. That man is going to hell someday soon I hope.

Richard: Yea, probably to visit a few Canadians!

Nick: That was disgusting and I apologize to all our fans who may have taken offense especially our Canadian fans who we respect greatly. PRIME is not responsible for the words or actions of Hoyt Williams and again we are immensely sorry.

Richard: You know they can’t understand you without the translator. I think its pronounced SORE-EE!

Nick: Enough let’s just move on.

In the bowels of the Saddledome, Tyler Nelson sits in his dressing room plotting, planning, scheming….you know, heel stuff. The Greediest Player in the Game and his comrades have effectively declared war on anyone who doesn’t see things their way, and ‘their’ way just so happens to be ‘his’ way. He sits there alone in his thoughts as Mr. Simmons stands guard outside the room to act as a first line of defense/sacrificial lamb should anyone want to cause physical harm to the King of Greed. The closet door was ajar for easy entry at the first sounds of a struggle.

The door knob jostles and turns, causing Nelson to quickly turn and look. He hadn’t heard Simmons screaming in pain or begging for mercy, but that didn’t mean that trouble wasn’t afoot. As Tyler starts for the closet, the door of the dressing room opens. In through it walks the massive form of the PTC Elite Champion, Hessian. The large man ducks his head slightly as he crosses the threshold, his shiny title belt slung safely over his shoulder.

Hessian: Boss, I need a word.

Nelson grins sheepishly, halting his progress toward the closet and trying to act like that wasn’t where he was going.

Tyler: Absolutely! Anything for my Norse battering ram.

Both men pause in an uncomfortable silence, realizing the potential connotation of the last statement. Finally, the Construction of Destruction speaks to break the quiet.

Hessian: I can appreciate what you were trying to do last week when you went to see Shakur. You have an agenda and I’ve pledged to help you to that end. I’ll be there when you need me, rest assured.

Nelson flashes one of his trademark greedy smirks.

Tyler: That’s extremely comforting, Von Kelsig.

Hessian’s voice becomes a primal growl as he continues.

Hessian: However, Shakur will be dealt with, painfully and severely. I’ll not be made a fool of by him or anyone else. It's open season on his ass.

The grin dissipates somewhat from Nelson’s face, although not completely.

Tyler: I trust you’ll be able to multi-task both situations, then?

Hessian: You don’t have to worry about me, Nelson. When the time comes I’ll be at the ready to assist you, Devin Shakur or no Devin Shakur.

Tyler: Very well, Von Kelsig.

Hessian and Nelson exchange a handshake before the Elite Champion takes his leave of the locker room. Nelson rubs his finger along his chin, a plotting, planning, scheming, generally heelish look in his eyes.

I have a competition in me. I want no one else to succeed.

The gruff tone of Daniel Plainview’s voice quickly transitions to the hammering of rising drumbeats and heavy cords. The rising action of Devin Townsend’s ‘Bastard’ preludes his arrival.

P A R I A H

Nick: And what’s he doing out here?

Richard: Who knows. This guy hasn’t been the same dude I once fell in love with. Back in the day—

Nick: He used to scream at everyone within earshot of just how great he was. I don’t think he’s stopped being that person, but he’s not yelling as much.

Screaming white light bathes the entire entrance area, the PRIME*View flickering through the assorted highlight package of Brandon Youngblood. Throwing back the curtain, he saunters towards the ring, barely visible through the blinding light he appears from. His eyes are fixated on the ring, his face remaining stoic as he looks towards Vince Howard.

Richard: I mean, he’s picking fights with guys who shouldn’t be going at it with.

Nick: He still was assaulted, Richard. By perhaps the most violent assembly of wrestlers in this company, all by order of Tyler Nelson. But at the same time, you can’t have sympathy for him because he hijacked the video series of Troy Douglas.

Richard: Yeah. Dude be slipping. Needs to bench the damn salt.

We’re in Canada. So, there isn’t much in the way of negative fan reaction. They don’t blow the roof off the Saddle Dome, but in this country, if you were born here, you were always due to be a hero here.

Even if you were PRIME’s Pariah.

Ambling down the aisle, Youngblood’s focused demeanor seems completely detached from his surroundings. Walking across the ringside mats, he slowly stalks his way to the stairs. Each climbing step forward stabs the steel, his left hand grasping the ring post as he takes his first pace across the apron. Moving between the ropes, he walks up to Howard, limply coiling his neck downward and motioning to give him the microphone. Howard gladly gives up the stick as the theme music fades, quickly making an exit through the middle ropes.

Nick: Usually, you see someone who holds one of our allegiances. But with Brandon, I think it is safe to say that isn’t quite the case.

He remains in position in the center of the ring, not having moved an inch since Howard handed him the microphone. After a few moments of letting the crowd simmer, Youngblood rubs the back of his head and brings the microphone up to speak.

Youngblood: I’m out here to say a few things and bring some others to light. Last week was the first time I’ve wrestled inside a ring in over a year. And the worst part about it isn’t the fact that I can’t remember most of it. And as odd as it is to say, I don’t think it is a bad thing to say that I lost to who I lost to.

Richard: Yeah, this isn’t the same guy. At ALL! Where is the screaming about getting screwed? The promises? The titles over the shoulder?

Youngblood: Michael Sloan has been on a red hot tear through this roster, and I buckled his knees with one thrust of my hand.

Standing statuesque in his position with his head still slightly tilted downward, he flashes his open left hand.

Youngblood: I did more damage with this than any other man or woman on this roster. Hessian, right now, is the hottest wrestling talent in the industry not named Tony Gamble. He’s beaten and broken so many. He’s been back and showing everyone the business end of his muscle and the fact is, Hessian is on a roll unlike he’s ever been on before.

Nick: Can’t say I disagree with that.

Youngblood: So, you see, I have no qualms coming out here and saying that, last week, I lost to men who were bigger than me, stronger than me, and more in shape than me. This isn’t SCCW. I’m not coming out here to this ring dusting up against filler before I go to the big stage. When I step into this ring, I’m liable to look at someone who is former World Champion. I’m looking at someone who has earned their stock in this industry. I’m not out here, being forced to bow to the most inflated piece of shit roster in existence. (It’s a PRIME show, of course they’re going to love that one.) I’d forever stand as PRIME’s Pariah as long is it meant I never had to be anyplace else’s hero.

He finally cranes his head up to face the mass of humanity before him.

Youngblood: I say this because a lot of people look at me and see someone who runs away when he doesn’t get his way, hiding behind injury or behind lost passion. I’m going to bring you up to speed on something that might change that notion. Roll the footage.

On the PRIME*View, we see a clip from the week prior.

Nick: Troy Douglas unleashing hellacious elbows to the back of Hessian’s head and he gets the PTC Elite Champion to his knees! Youngblood hits an elbow of his own. And another! Troy Douglas and Brandon Youngblood clobbering the back of Hessian’s head with elbows! Youngblood just shouted something to Troy.

Richard: He can’t be too pleased by this turn of events.

Nick: Hessian elbows both men as Brandon was talking to Troy! He picks himself up and rears his hand back HE JUST SMASHED HIS HAND INTO THE LEFT SIDE OF YOUNGBLOOD’S HEAD! That sounded like a gun just went off!

Richard: Youngblood’s hurt here.

Nick: Troy Douglas with the chop block on Hessian and that brings the Murder Show crumpling down!

Youngblood, however, is busy rolling around on the canvas, his hands reaching for his left ear. As Douglas unleashes a barrage of brutal stomps into Hessian’s now hurting right knee, Brandon is busy snapping his fingers near his ear, a look of panic settling on his face.

For full effect, the slap that sends Youngblood crumpling to the canvas is shown a few more times, the crushing impact of the Murder Show’s hand quite evident.

Youngblood: I have to tell you, if I was half the baby I’m made out to be, I wouldn’t be here this week. I was snapping my finger for a reason. The same reason as I would now.

Bringing his hand up, he snaps his finger close to his ear.

Youngblood: The same reason I will tomorrow. Or five years from now. Because Hessian slapped my head and busted the eardrum. Because the doctor I went to in Saginaw County said "sorry Brandon, but you’re never going to hear from that ear again".

The subject matter is not funny for him, but he chuckles anyway.

Youngblood: But I’m here this week. I got my wrestling boots, and I’m going to work. And I can hold my head up high because, well, even though I got a loss to my name, it wasn’t my shoulders pinned to the mat. I can hold my head up high because I might be a bit rusty, but I damn sure gave it my all. But there’s this sickening feeling inside me. Has me, you know? Rumbling, shaking? Rotting.

Licking his lips, he can’t help but spit.

Youngblood: The second I saw what I was up against I knew what I was in for. No vacation days. But Chainz and Hessian got a vacation. The got a guy they’ve pounded into the ground, pissed on, shit on, smacked around, and basically buttfucked into nonexistence.

Through the stone slants of his exterior, that old, unforgiving rage was still visible.

Youngblood: And he’s about to wrestle, what? Next? I got stuck with a guy who’s highest note in PRIME is squeaking out victories over guys named Meat and Dusk. You give me a guy who’s been here almost two years and still yanks the curtain jerker every damn night? And what, I’m supposed to say rah rah, go team clusterfuck? Go us? I got my ass kicked in by over a ton of muscle, and I’m supposed to somehow best perhaps the most feared duo in PRIME history with a lump of dead wood? A guy without a damn pulse?

He's about to go on, but is cut off by a crescendo of guitars and horns, not to mention four familiar words on the PRIME*View.

END.

OF.

THE.

ROAD.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!

The cannon echoes three times, and the chorus of Chris Cornell's "You Know My Name" kicks in as Troy Douglas makes his way down the ramp to the roars of the Calgary crowd. As he approaches the ring, he calls for a microphone, gets one from a nearby PA and climbs between the ropes, keeping a distance between himself and PRIME's Pariah.

Douglas: Gee, Brandon, the way you're talking, I thought maybe I should come out here and apologize. I mean, you're stuck making your PRIME return teaming with a "curtain jerker" like me, I cost you some of your hearing, and now you have to lower yourself to eventually getting into the ring with me? Whaddya think, Calgary? Do you think Brandon Youngblood deserves an apology for all the trials and tribulations I'm putting him through?

CROWD: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Douglas: Guess that's a "no", pal.

Youngblood looks nonplussed, so Douglas gets right next to Youngblood's impaired left ear.

Douglas: Can you hear me now, Brandon? I said, you and your whiny ass can go straight to hell.

Youngblood clenches his fist, but Douglas merely steps away and continues to talk, his eyes still locked on Youngblood's.

Douglas: Because you're little hearing problem, Brandon? You can just consider that payback for the little stunt you pulled last week. Because, while you might not give a damn about who you piss off in this company, while you might not care about the bridges you burn, I'll let you in on this one little secret.

...

Douglas: This is one "useless curtain jerker" you don't do that to, Brandon. Make all the snide remarks about me you want to, but what I was talking about in that interview, that mattered to me, Brandon. That was a time in my life that's been permanently burned onto my brain, and for you to make a mockery of that -- well, that's one line you're going to wish you'd never crossed.

Richard: Oooooooh, I'm quaking in my shoes.

Nick: He'd obliterate you with a thought.

Richard: Hence, the shoe-quaking.

Douglas: So if you want to push buttons, Brandon, that's just fine with me. I just don't think you'll be so happy to be a pariah once I decide to push back.

All the anger drains from Youngblood’s face, replaced by a hauntingly expressionless glare.

Youngblood: You’ve been in this business how long? Fact is, Megatron, if calling you a football flop and asking about the hole in your heart is crossing the line, you have no concept of what the line is. Because if you think that’s the line, how about I go on a diatribe about how real men don’t sob like bitches? How about I go on and make some comment about digging your fiancée just to skull fuck her? You want my respect? Stop being a self righteous faggot and man the fuck up! Show me you have a pulse!

Douglas is ready to do just that, rearing his fist back and throwing a hard punch.

Youngblood merely backs away, completely unfazed. Douglas is so pissed, the sinews in his neck is visible for everyone to see.

Youngblood: You call that a pulse? If this is what it takes? You’re not ready to face me.

Youngblood throws the microphone down, rolling out of the ring and refusing to acknowledge the presence of Troy Douglas. The former Intense Champion can’t help but be perplexed as Youngblood stalks up the ramp to a shower of boos. All Douglas can do is get prepared for his match which is just about to take place.

It's time for the first installment of Dictionary by Chris Smith, where you find out what words actually mean.

The first word is PIMP.



Also, see GANGSTA (with an A)



And BAM!



(All credit goes to the people who posted these pictures for me to find in Yahoo and Google search. I'm in a good mood and I don't want to get sued.)

With Youngblood out of the picture, referee Tommy Giles and ring announcer Vince Howard quickly scramble into the ring to join Troy Douglas.

Nick: Well, Douglas is already out here, looks like we're about to get things started with our opening contest on ReVolution!

Richard: Megatron jerking the curtain again. Youngblood's got a point, you know.

Nick: Thanks, Captain Obvious.

DING! DING! DING!

Vince Howard: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL! Already in the ring, from Greensboro, North Carolina, weighing in at 260 pounds ... TROOOY DOOUGLAAASSS!!!

His opponent...

WELCOME BACK MY FRIENDS
TO THE SHOW THAT NEVER ENDS
WE’RE SO GLAD YOU COULD ATTEND
COME INSIDE, COME INSIDE!

CROWD: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Richard: Bow down, people! BOW!

Nick: Yeah, not doing that.

Nelson makes his way down the ramp flanked by Mr. Simmons, absorbing the boos as he climbs into the ring, gives Douglas a dismissive glance and waits in his corner.

Vince Howard: From Dallas, Texas, weighing in at 225 pounds ... "THE GREEDIEST PLAYER IN THE GAME" ... TYLER NEEEELLLLSSOOOOONNN!

Richard: AKA the man who can take the Universal Championship whenever he damn well pleases.

Nick: Something that turns the insides of every man, woman and child watching this show ... except for you.

Richard: I call bullshit! There are no children watching this show.

DING! DING! DING!

Nick: Here we go on ReVolution, and here goes Troy Douglas! He's going right after Nelson in the corner! Lefts, rights, forearms and knees are flying! Brandon Youngblood put him in a sour mood, and Douglas is taking it out on Nelson!

Richard: Not cool. Dude needs to stop projecting, for his own good. Bad for the karma.

Douglas continues pounding on Nelson in the corner, before the Greediest Player in the Game finds a way out by ducking between the middle and top ropes, forcing a clean break. Douglas obliges, but when he comes back in for the kill, Nelson counters with a rake to the eyes.

Nick: Oh, come on! Right to the eyes goes Tyler Nelson!

Richard: This is brilliant strategy. How hard is it to kick the ass of a blind man?

Nick: I don't even know where to start with the number of things wrong about that statement.

Douglas staggers backwards, temporarily blinded, but manages to duck a clothesline attempt from Nelson. His vision and orientation returned to him, Douglas catches Nelson with a European uppercut as he spins around, sending Tyler sprawling backwards into the corner.

Richard: Apparently, it was harder than I thought.

Nick: Douglas loading up, gets a head of steam ... BIG CLOTHESLINE IN THE CORNER! Nelson's neck snapped WAY back from the impact!

Richard: Can I get a time out?

Nick: NO.

Richard: Can Tyler?

Nick: Even more no.

Douglas pulls Nelson out of the corner and drives a knee into his sternum, doubling Nelson over. Megatron then hits the ropes, charging at Nelson with a seated dropkick to the head that sends the Greediest Player in the Game down to the mat in a heap.

Nick: Douglas controlling things early, here with a quick cover...

ONE...

TWO...

NO! Tyler Nelson out in time!

Richard: Because he's awesome.

Nick: That's your justification for everything he does, huh?

Richard: Pretty much, yeah.

Nick: Just checking.

Nelson scrambles to his feet, but Douglas is too quick for him, thrusting both palms into Tyler's chest and sending him bouncing off the ropes. On the rebound, Troy presses him high into the air.

Nick: Douglas sending the Greediest Player into ORBIT ... AND BACK DOWN INTO A EUROPEAN UPPERCUT!

Richard: No fair! Nelson only flies on his Gulfstream VIII!

Nick: Do they even make that model yet?

Richard: You're askin' the wrong guy, pal.

Nelson goes stiff as a board as he flops to the canvas face-first. Unfortunately for the Greediest Player in the Game, the force of the impact causes him to bounce right back to his feet, giving Troy Douglas the chance to introduce his boot to Tyler's jaw.

Nick: An absolutely SICK Yakuza Kick from Troy Douglas!

Richard: That's trademark infringement, folks. The Yakuza will eat his babies for that.

Nick: ...

Richard: YES! I WIN!

With Nelson down on the mat, Douglas keeps up the assault. Without a second's hesitation, he hooks both of Tyler's arms and deadlifts him off the mat, straight into a bridging Tiger Suplex.

Nick: DEADLIFT TIGER SUPLEX! What strength from the former Intense Champion!

Richard: Megatron terrorize?

Nick: Nelson's shoulders are down!

ONE...

TWO...

THR-NOOOOO!!!

Richard: This is what Tyler Nelson does to you. He outlasts you, waits until that moment when you finally let your guard down, then he comes at you like a spider monkey.

Nick: Please, no jokes from 2006.

Richard: But, I'm all jacked up on Mountain Dew!

Nick: Remind me to never let the catering guys give you a 72-ounce soda again.

Richard: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAWWWW!

Nick: Someone's going to sleep well tonight.

Surprised that Nelson kicked out, Douglas goes back to a corner to regroup. Once he sees Nelson back to his feet, however, Megatron charges, looking for a clothesline. Tyler Nelson has other ideas, dropping down low to clip Troy with a dropkick just below the left kneecap.

Richard: The Vi-

Nick: Wrong show, pal.

Richard: Thanks for stopping me.

Nick: No problem. Nelson finally found his spot, and he went right after that surgically repaired knee of Troy Douglas.

Richard: Like any good evil overlord. Don't explain your plan to them. When they ask, just shoot, then say no.

Nelson immediately starts dissecting Douglas' left leg, propping it up on the bottom rope, then jumping down on the knee with a seated senton. He backs right up and does it again before the referee finally forces a break.

Nick: Tommy Giles getting in there before Nelson breaks Troy Douglas' left leg!

Richard: Softie.

Douglas pulls himself up out of the corner gingerly, but is only up for a second before a chop block to the damaged leg puts Troy back down on the canvas. Looking to exact further damage, the Greediest Player in the Game immediately clamps on a single leg crab, with an extra twist on the knee joint.

Nick: Nelson with the submission locked in! He's got Douglas in a WORLD of pain, and he is torturing that left leg with this half-crab!

Richard: I love this man. SO MUCH.

Douglas fights towards the ropes, but Nelson pulls him back to the center of the center of the ring. When Tommy Giles asks Troy if he wants to give up, however, Douglas screams his denial back to the PRIME official and starts making his way back towards the ropes.

Nick: Troy Douglas is fighting! His left knee is being RENT ASUNDER by the Greediest Player in the Game, but Douglas simply will not give in to the pain.

Richard: Moron. C'mon, Tyler, rip the damn leg off if he won't quit!

Nick: Somebody's objective.

Richard: I don't even know what that means.

Nelson tries to sit back as Douglas approaches the ropes, but as Nelson adjusts his weight, Megatron finally makes his move, rolling through and hooking Nelson's ankle in one motion.

Nick: ANKLE LOCK! Douglas countered into the ankle lock!

Richard: No fair! He's not allowed to do that!

Nick: Douglas is wrenching on this hold ... Nelson kicks his way free! Troy slams into the turnbuckles!

Tyler shakes off his ankle for a moment, then charges at the corner, launching himself at Douglas with a flying forearm. The impact never comes, however, because Douglas presses Nelson into the air, then drops him face-first onto the top turnbuckle.

Nick: Vicious counter by Troy Douglas! He dropped Nelson right onto the top buckle!

Richard: His face! He needs that for talking! CURSE YOU, TROY DOUGLAS!

Nick: Douglas is limping, but he's got Nelson stunned! Locks in the double underhook!

And just like that, Tyler Nelson is up in the air. A second later, he's twisting down violently towards the canvas, right on top of his head.

Nick: END OF THE ROAD OH-EIGHT! That brutal twisting brainbuster!

Richard: I CALL SHENANIGANS!

Nick: Douglas with the cover...

ONE!

TWO!

THREEEEEE! Troy Douglas takes down the man with the banked shot at the Universal Title!

Vince Howard: The winner of the match ... TROOOOYY DOOOOOUGGLLAAAAAAAASSSSS!

Backstage.

Lisa Tyler's Office.

Lisa Tyler and Brandon Pierce.

Action!

Well I say action, they have clearly been speaking for sometime, but things are just coming to head in discussions and well...that's always the best part.

Pierce: Look Lisa I'm not going to lie to you about why I'm here. I want Chainz and I want his title, end of.

Tyler: Not end of at all, your performances as of late, have been sloppy to say the least. Right now Brandon you are the last person that I want promoting the Intense division, even less so than Chainz.

Pierce's face drops with the realisation that his performances as of late have been for lack of a better term, shit and what's worse his boss had noticed.

Pierce: You have got to be kidding me.

Tyler: No. As a man he's sub human, as a talent under contract in a company that I run. He is exceptional. He is on a streak that may eclipse all previous records, he brings that intensity to the company that I need regardless of my personal disgust for him. Where as you are more a damp squib, likable yes but from a revenue perspective.... Well lets just say have you checked your t-shirt sales lately?

Pierce: No.

Tyler: You don't have any t-shirts....

A dull silence fills the room as Pierce takes a verbal body blow, that almost sends him reeling backwards.

Pierce: What if I was to tell you I know how to beat him?

Tyler: After two failed attempts Brandon, I would say you were more delusional than he is.

Pierce: Not at all Lisa, not at all. Its taken me a while but I've finally come to realise that to beat a man like Chainz, you have to be a man like Chainz. You need to be able to focus in on their one weakness. I've found out exactly what that is.

Tyler: And that is?

A wry smile forms on Pierce's face as he realises he has her attention, briefly at most but still attention.

Pierce: That would be telling Lisa, I'm not going to give up that information for free. I want my shot.

Tyler: You've had your shot Brandon. Twice, each time you have blown it.

Pierce: Non title matches, where my mind wasn't in the game. If I am fighting for something I want, I'm going to give it everything I have. Imagine it now Lisa. The Great American Nightmare. 'The Symphony Of Destruction faces off against Chainz. A match in which he had no chance of winning, the odds are stacked against him. Then he pulls off the most stunning victory ever! A new Intense Champion! the streak is ended! the man who everyone had written off becomes champion! The story writes itself Lisa!

Tyler: There's no doubt that its marketable, but if I was to give you the shot every other member of the roster, would stake a more legitimate claim on the title. It would be chaos. You're going to have to give me something more.

Pierce pauses for a moment to consider his options. Truth be told, he didn't think he would be in the office for this long. Now he was in a pitching meeting.

Pierce: Ok...you would consider yourself a businesswoman wouldn't you? A woman who knows a good deal when she sees one?

Tyler: …Get to the point, Pierce.

Pierce: As well as sorting out Chainz, taking him out of the picture and more importantly your life Lisa. I will offer you my services.

Tyler: Pardon me?

Pierce: Surely you must see that sides are being formed? How long do you think that you can fight against the tide? What you need is warriors who will fight for your side. I'm not a mercenary, I will not run to the highest bidder. If I pick a side, I will stay with them through hell and high water. In the upcoming war Lisa, I'll fight for you. Because believe me a war is coming, you may not be able to see it, but its there. Sooner or later everyone is going to have to pick a side.

Lisa doesn't respond, a simple look into her eyes reveals that she knows all this too well.

Pierce: If you give me one shot, that's all I'm asking. One shot at Chainz' title. I will fight for you until you deem me surplus to requirements. Regardless of if i win or lose.

Tyler: How does Claire feel about this?

Pierce: This isn't Claire's decision. This is me and doing what not only is best for my career, but for PRIME. Your company Lisa. What do you say? Do I have my shot?

As Lisa is about to open her mouth, seemingly to give Pierce the answer he desires, they are interrupted by the opening of the office door and the imposing figure of Chainz stood in the doorway.

Chainz: What the hell are you doing here Meat?

Pierce: Oh nothing much. Me and Miss Tyler here were just having a chat, planning on spending a little bit of time together is all.

Chainz: Please, the man is here now so why don't you piss off you bollockless chimp. Shouldn't you be losing to Douglas again or something?

Pierce manages to let off a small laugh, but the truth hurt him more than he care to acknowledge.

Pierce: Something like that yeah, anyway me and Lisa have been getting to know each other in a whole different way, you see with a woman like Lisa you need to understand how she works. Really get into her head. Learn how to make her tick. From what I hear Chainz, you don't have a clue.

Chainz: Well I don't know what to tell you, because she is clearly lying to you. I see the way that Lisa looks at me with those beautiful eyes, the way she quivers with temptation whenever I'm around. Look at her she's clearly infatuated.

Lisa: Sloan, is there any particular reason that you are here?

Chainz: Why to see you of course, I was just walking by and thought to myself. Why don't I go and make Lisa's day, by gracing her with my presence, just being near me would send her into a state of rapture and the poor woman must be so stressed out with what's happening as of late.

Lisa: Well you've done that, so kindly get the hell out of my office so I can finish having my meeting.

In a moment of unison and clarity, Brandon and Lisa understand each other and Lisa gives a nod to Brandon, not a secret nod for the opposite. A nod that was intended to be seen and was by Chainz.

Charging forwards Chainz grabs Pierce by the scruff of the t-shirt and pulls him in close, snarling with rage as Pierce simply smiles and winks back at Tyler, even blowing her a little kiss.

Chainz: A match now Pierce, me and you! Who do you think you are sniffing around Lisa? She's mine, she loves me!

Pierce: Calm down Chainz, all I have done is given her something to think about. About that match though Sloan, I'd love to and all but I can't risk anything happening to me, not with the Great American Nightmare just around the corner, so I'll pass if its all the same with you.

Pierce swats away Chainz' arms and starts to move towards the office door, he's stopped in his tracks though as Chainz sends a barrage of torment his way.

Chainz: Walking away like the coward you are I see. That's the difference between you and me. I'm a real man, I walk away from nothing. That's why I'm a champion and you are nothing more than a bottom feeder. The whipping boy of PRIME.

Pierce still smiling simply turns his head over his shoulder and looks at Chainz, his chest heaving with rage.

Pierce: How's Tracy by the way, not seen her fantastic figure around in a while.

Chainz: What?

Pierce: Tracy, your girlfriend. She know you are here?

Chainz: What the hell are you talking about?

Pierce: See, if I had a pretty little thing like that, I'd never let her go. Never even let her out of my sight. Anyway just a passing thought, I'm going to head off leave you two 'love birds' alone. Lisa, think about what I said. If you want this chump taking out all you need to do is make the call. Leave everything else to me.

Chainz: You take me out? That's almost laughable. One day Meat, you will learn that you are not PRIME material. You are nothing, just a blip on the payroll and when Nelson is running the show, you won't be here and Me, Claire, Lisa and Tracy will all be one big happy family of fun!

Pierce: Sure thing! Lisa hun, call me.

With that Pierce heads for the exit, leaving Chainz seething with rage.

What does Elise Ares, PRIME Tag Team Champion, do before a match? Go over strategy with Kazys Jankauskas? Review film? Practice?

We talkin’ bout practice?

No. No we aren’t. And for someone as self absorbed as the Havana Harlot, there isn’t anything she needs to do. Save, of course, look absolutely fantastic in the mirror. Observing her meticulous form in the mirror, she wears a contented grin.

Ares: I just don't get how anyone could boo this... I don't.

Pouting a bit at the thought, the Swaggerific One stomps her feet in a childish fit as she begins talking to the air.

Ares: You know, I look pretty damn good for those people every night. I work hard. I even jumped a shark once! Why? For them. They cheer Chandler Tsonda and he never jumped a shark. Jason Snow doesn’t jump sharks! I heard Tony Gamble tried once and he has that scar on his face from it to show he couldn't do it. Plus it stunted his growth, to boot! And Chainz—

She shudders at the thought of him, only to sigh.

Ares: Well Chainz would probably just try to rape the shark. Can you even rape a shark? How does that wor... but that’s beside the point! How can I be booed by them? The wouldn't know talent if it bit them square in the ass, would that?

All her empty questions suddenly take on new meaning as Brandon Youngblood stoically stands behind her. She turns around, nearly fainting.

Ares: Dios mío!

Youngblood: You going scream like a banshee again? Because I only got one good ear left.

Ares: Say what?

Youngblood blinks for a few moments.

Youngblood: You. With Moneybags and Beardly and Rapist McRaper and Drago. Last week. My face all busted up and bleeding and you saying you had a new shirt. Remember?

Ares: Uhhhhh, that wasn’t me. Who are you again?

Youngblood: What?

Ares: I get new shirts everyday, and I think my keys were locked in my car. Plus why would I—Kaz? Kaz? KAZ?!

Brandon narrows his eyes.

Youngblood: I’m not jumping you. I’m just here to tell you that if you’re walking after our match, it’s because I’m merciful. Got it?

Ares instantly becomes indignant.

Ares: Who in the blue hell do you think you ar...

She doesn’t get a chance to scream at him, because he just turns around and leaves.

It didn’t matter that no one was there to pick him up from his hotel earlier that night.

It didn’t matter that no one noticed him as he strolled throughout the corridors like if he owned the place.

No.

..It didn’t even matter that no one seemed to care.

Tonight was THEE night and Adam Garcia was going to make sure that he made the best out of tHIS night, as he possibly could. Nothing could ruin it.

The paragon of virtue had arrived!

Dressed in his best beige slacks, a newly ironed white oxford shirt, and a crisply pressed blue blazer; Garcia strode with determination past the backstage crew members, toward the office of Lisa Tyler. As he pulled on his golden cuff-links, he smiled, remembering what he was told about first impressions. Clearly on a mission, he peeked at his watch and put some pep into his step. He didn’t want to be late.

As he turned the corner he accidentally bumped into some no-name crew member knocking a big stack of papers of all colors out of their hands. Easily outweighed by this crew member, whose size was average at best, Adam tumbled to the ground.

Adam: Watch where you’re going you big oaf!

As he picked himself up and began to dust himself off he noticed that his nose had begun to bleed. Concerned the crew member immediately rushed over to help.

Crew member: I am so very sorry! I didn’t see you…

Adam: Get your stinking paws…

Stopping mid-sentence and holding his nose, Adam took another gander at his watch.

Adam: …damnit, I’m gonna be late! Where is Lisa Tyler’s office?

This being his first night as well, the crew member scratched his head and replied.

Crew member: Uh...thata way!

Adam scurried into the given direction and turned another corner where he became faced with a hall full of doors. He couldn’t help but to shake his head.

Adam: Of course.

As he darted down the hall, he pulled on the first door and out fell a broom almost hitting him in the head.

Broom closet.

Chuckling a bit, he wiped the last bit of blood from his nose and noticed a red curtain billowing in the breeze down the hall. He hurried toward it and snatched it back.

There was nothing but a wall.

Frustrated, he tore down the curtain and began to throw a fit. He kicked over a trash can and proceeded down the hall where he turned over a table full of goodies. He defaced the wall of its portraits and posters and even tore a few of them to shreds. Frustration continuing to grow each passing second he pulled on his hair but decided not to make a scene. There was one final double-door at the end of the hall. "That has to be it," he thought.

He ran to and THROUGH the double-door which led OUTSIDE. Both doors closed just as fast as they opened.

Adam: Wait a minute…

He pulled on the door with both hands as hard as he could but it was LOCKED. He began to pound upon it immediately.

Adam: OPEN THE DOOR!

His temper tantrum returned and Garcia began to beat on the door as hard as he could. To no avail he continued to kick shit over, threw a few chairs, screamed and shouted. Returning to the door he began to pound once more.

Adam: OPEN THIS DOOR! COME ON! I’M ADAM GARCIA! OPEN THE DOOR!

...As the camera fades you can still hear Adam Garcia in the background.

So much for first impressions.

After what happened last week between Hessian and Lisa Tyler, the boss has come to expect that she will never obtain a complete night of peace. Her plate has already been stacked with the blindside attack of Jay Phoenix and the ruckus caused by Brandon Pierce and Michael Sloan earlier. Even though its a moot effort, she orders Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas to stand outside her door and ensure nobody comes in for the next half hour. She needs some time to put a few more Jewel in the Crown papers from the In pile to the Out.

The burly one man security team nods his head and makes his way over toward the door, slinging it open and gently shutting it behind him. If he had to jack a few fools and bust some chumps, then he would keep his shovel sharp and his will outstanding. Very loudly, Dam cracks his knuckles, inviting anybody to try and mess with BLT.

The inherently cranky boss shoots her head down and puts pen to paper. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to her, an individual cracks open the rear Exit door and quietly makes his way through the office. A black blob who goes unnoticed all the way to the mahogany door, he turns the bolt and glares over at Tyler.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

If Lisa could hear the crowd, she would know that such vile hatred could only indicate the presence of one villain on the roster.

Although, he's about to make himself very well known, walking over to the desk and violently slamming both fists into the desk. Lisa Tyler's papers scatter about while she tries to regain whatever composure she had.

But just in case she needed to be any more uncomfortable, the assailant leans over the desk and glares at her.

Devin Shakur: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, WOMAN?

Lisa goes to reorganize her papers and acquire control of the situation, but Shakur takes hold of her wrist and flings the papers across the room, letting them dance while descending to the floor.

Devin Shakur: I'm not going to give you an OUNCE of rest until you tell me what the HELL was going on in your head last week.

Lisa Tyler: Devin-

Before she can utter a second word, the furious Man in Black slams his fists into the table again, cracking the wood and sending the boss scrambling toward the wall.

Devin Shakur: I don't want to hear any damn political spin on this SHIT!

The table Lisa thought would act as a barricade is instantly hopped by Shakur. He grabs her plush office chair and slams it against the wall, leaving a two foot hole. Lisa will have a grand time explaining that to the owners of the building when the next event sets up.

Devin Shakur: I want to know outright what you were thinking last week?

Lisa Tyler: IF YOU WOULD LET ME EXPLAIN WITHOUT WRECKING MY OFFICE!

Devin Shakur: That would mean I'd have to give you the satisfaction of respect...And I'm not ready to do that.

The Black Plague hovers over Lisa Tyler, using his arms as a makeshift tent that hangs over her curled up and seated form. His teeth grind against one another in a blinding rage. The fire in his eyes could torch the entire Saddledome.

Devin Shakur: How serious do you take this fucking position?

Lisa Tyler: I put it in a lot less jeopardy than you are with your career at the moment.

The Man in Black sadistically grins, making Lisa that much more uncomfortable. At the moment, she might welcome another intrusion from Michael Sloan on his nightly quest to get in her pants.

Devin Shakur: Jeopardy? Oh, honey, you forgot, that little pact we made after Culture Shock is unbreakable. I can't be fired for anything whatsoever. You are stuck with me until the end of the year, regardless of action.

Lisa Tyler: DAM! GET IN HERE!

Shakur displays another creepy smile.

Devin Shakur: 'Fraid your boy isn't going to be making the clutch save tonight. See, I got my own personal security ensuring that your knight in shining subordinate won't get anywhere near that door.

Lisa Tyler: (seething) What did you do to him? So help you God-

Devin Shakur: Relax, he's fine, but his brain is occupied at the moment, long enough for us to have a nice chat about my future...And if you answer wrong, yours as well.

Clinching his teeth together, Shakur spews blood out, decorating his choppers in an eerie crimson. He's not creating an elaborate bluff. This is the real deal.

Devin Shakur: Now answer my question, Lisa. How serious do you take this position?

Lisa Tyler: (startled) Very. Keeping PRIME at the top of the industry is my number one priority.

Devin Shakur: So then I gotta ask you...Why? Why did you give in? And...to them of all people?

Lisa Tyler: I haven't given in on any-

Devin Shakur: ANCH! WRONG ANSWER! Last week, top of the show, Hessian bursts through the door and demands free reign on me. FREE. REIGN. And you feel the need to give it out like I'm a cheap 99 cent talent you could pick up at any local independent show.

The Boss places her hands against the wall and tries to push back to a standing position, but The Black Plague is having none of it, shoving her against the white plaster with one arm and moving in closer. They are eye to eye and nose to nose.

Devin Shakur: I wanna know why you SOLD. ME. OUT.

Lisa Tyler: Well, you see...

Devin Shakur: Apparently I don't...So make with an answer or I'll make you the next hole in the wall.

Her eyes avert away, opting to stare into his bulging bicep rather than his scornful eyes.

Lisa Tyler: All I wanted was one night of serenity and Von Kelsig ruined it. I wanted him out of my office and -

Devin Shakur: I was your ticket to freedom?

Lisa Tyler: Unfortunately.

An uncomfortable pause between the two. Shakur snarls at The Boss while she tries to find space to breathe.

Devin Shakur: I really thought you were better than that, Lisa. All this time you've been hard, a bitch in the truest sense of the word, but I guess underneath that hard exterior you were cracking. Now all it takes is ruining your peace of mind in order to get something done around here?

Shakur crouches down and closes the small gap between them, backing a now slightly scared BLT all the way against the wall. She's between a hard place and an angry rock.

Devin Shakur: What would you give me to get outta here right now? Or do I gotta go further?

A pearly white smile escapes from Shakur while Lisa's hands start trembling.

Devin Shakur: After all this time and after ALL the things I've done for you-

Lisa Tyler: And...after all the people you've taken out of this company. You've been a cancer on PRIME ever since I took over.

Devin Shakur: Aww, the scared little pray throwing up her defense mechanisms...But really, Lisa? You are going to try and throw that shit back in my face? Like you weren't BEGGING someone to eliminate Tyler Rayne, get him out of your hair. Nobody in the back had the balls to actually go through with putting him down. And NOBODY, not a single one of these so called superstars, could do it: Snow, Hessian, Tsonda. It took me. I can't remember how many times you thanked me for doing that.

For the first time in her management career, Lisa Tyler can't retort with a rapid fire response.

Devin Shakur: And don't try to blame Dawkins on me either. The kid had it coming. Like you would want a follower of Tyler Rayne getting that close to the spotlight. You signed off on his Evaluation. You left me off ReVolution 200 because you knew what I was going to do. You signed off on the match. You didn't bat an eyelid when he was wheeled out of Colossus. When I laid Hessian out twice in two weeks, nothing.

The Black Plague takes a step back, allowing Lisa to stand upright and remove the wrinkles from her business suit.

Devin Shakur: I thought you wanted to get rid of Tyler Nelson...

Lisa Tyler: No! NO!

Lisa finds her temper and points a finger in Shakur's face.

Lisa Tyler: DON'T YOU DARE try to play that card!

Devin Shakur: I'm not running the fucking show! You are! You are ALLOWING his army to grow! You are allowing his roster to PROSPER! The Tag Champions. Elite Champion. Intense Champion. They are featured every week heavily on YOUR shows. YOU ARE THE CAUSE OF YOUR OWN DESTRUCTION!

Lisa has a response ready, but Shakur holds a hand up and prevents her from speaking.

Devin Shakur: I don't want to hear any of your shit, Lisa. You are letting Tyler Nelson win even if you refuse to admit it. You think people like Jay Phoenix and Brandon Youngblood have the ability to take out Nelson? They don't have enough fucking backbone! They have hearts!

Shakur pauses and backs up a few more feet. Lisa keeps her well trained eyes on him, watching his every move.

Devin Shakur: And you are willing to sell the one ally in the locker room up the river so you can be alone for a night? I'm disgusted with you, Lisa.

Lisa Tyler throws out her arms in an exacerbated manner.

Lisa Tyler: It's not like I have any leverage with you, Shakur! You went out and announced publicly that you would retire at the end of the year. No negotiations. No extensions. There isn't an amount of money in the world that'll get you to stay around. I have to think ahead, and that includes a PRIME without YOU in it.

Devin Shakur: You know what you can do to keep me around. All you have to do is sign the paper.

Lisa Tyler: And I'm not going to do that. That's business I'm not willing to promote.

Putting his key into the door, Dametreyus Fuqueiawytas shoulders open the door and is seen standing next to Christian Daniels.

Dam: You got some real talent there, boss. Gotta make sure yo end rhyme is tighter though, ya dig?

When Lisa personal security looks up and sees the carnage in front of him, his adrenaline starts pumping. The Biker turns and exits around the corner. Dam's enraged peepers glance over toward Shakur, who is adjusting his dress shirt.

Devin Shakur: Then you've gone and made an enemy that you won't be able to escape, no matter what you try. Go ahead and give me the worst, Lisa. I can go above and beyond Nelson and so long as you keep oppressing me...I'll be the black death of you.

Ignoring the giant elephant in the room, The Black Plague turns and exits out the back door. Lisa Tyler has been left in shambles, her office a wreck. She looks up at Dam and then down at the wreckage on the floor. She refuses to look over at the wall.

Dametreyus: I get the cleanin' people, boss.

Lisa Tyler: ...Yeah.

Dametreyus: You gon be alright, boss?

The Boss shoots a final disheveled glare at the back door and puts her head in her hands.

Lisa Tyler: Don't know, Dam...Don't know.

Matt Mills and Phil Hellmuth sit across from one another at a poker table. Just in case you need a visual on that.



VS



The 11 time bracelet winner stands up and offers to shake Matt Mills hands. The star stuck interviewer obliges.

Phil Hellmuth: Good luck to you, sir.

Matt Mills: Same to you, Mr. Hellmuth.

Phil Hellmuth: Gotta play your best game day, son, because you know I am.

Matt Mills: I intend on it.

Phil Hellmuth: I've seen you in these commercials and it appears you can't even spell poker.

Matt Mills: That's only a facade.

Phil Hellmuth: Alright, but I want to let you know before we get started.

Hellmuth shoots up, his chair flipping back. He points at Mills in an intimidating fashion.

Phil Hellmuth: I CAN DODGE BULLETS BAB-

From the blindside, Hellmuth is blindsided by a Jason Snow SNAKE EYES~!

Rushing in from the left, Chainz leaps on top of Hellmuth and pummels him with a barrage of right hands. The forty something poker legend is out cold after the first blow, but that doesn't stop The Monster from Hell's Kitchen in getting his licks...

Not that kind of licks you pervs.

Punches.

Jeez.

Strutting in on the right is Devin Shakur. Snow berates Hellmuth on the way up.

Jason Snow: By G-reatness, what do we have here? Some idiot from NORTHERN CALIFORNIA?

Chainz sticks Hellmuth's arms behind his back.

Jason Snow: DON'T STARE DIRECTLY AT ME, PLEBE! THE MERE SIGHT OF ME HAS BEEN KNOWN TO CAUSE BAD BEATS!

Shakur nudges Snow aside and snaps off a kick on Hellmuth. He winces in pain.

Devin Shakur: You want to run around in your black get up?

Another.

Devin Shakur: Thinking I wouldn't notice, punk?

And one more for good measure. Hellmuth sinks to the ground.

Devin Shakur: THERE IS ONLY ONE BLACK PLAGUE IN THE WORLD AND HIS NAME ISN'T PHIL HELLMUTH!

Shakur fires a boot into Hellmuth's gut and picks his pocket before walking off with a wad of cash.

Nick: Up next we’re going to see the undefeated Benjamin Johnson take on the Elite Champion, Hessian.

Richard: I don’t think Johnson is going to stay undefeated for very long.

Nick: He looked impressive in his first victory and if he puts together that same kind of performance he’ll be able to leave her with an upset.

Richard: World’s biggest upset, you don’t really believe that do you Nick?

Nick: Well… no.

Richard: You’re not as dumb as you look… or sound… or act.

Nick: Thanks, I guess.

Vince Howard: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Austin, Texas. Weighing in tonight at 268 pounds, Benjamin JOHHNNNNNNNNNSON!

Without any sort of music or ring entrance Benjamin Johnson steps out to a virtually unassuming crowd. As he walks down towards the ring some people finally spot him and give him a modest pop.

Richard: Didn’t anyone tell him to find some entrance music yet?

Nick: Maybe he doesn’t want any.

Richard: What a douche.

Vince Howard: Introducing his opponent, from Detroit, Michigan. Weighing in tonight at 355 pounds. He is the Elite champion, HESSSSSSIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAANNNNNNNNN!

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!

Richard: Look how impressive and menacing he is.

Nick: He is dwarfing Johnson who is no small man himself. To truly appreciate Hessian’s size you have to see him in person.

The referee checks both competitors and as he’s about to start the match Korn’s "My Gift to You" hits. The boos drown out the music as the most evil and hated man in wrestling steps out from the back. His beautiful and somewhat delusional wife Tracy is by his side, carrying the Intense title with some difficulty as it covers nearly half her small body.

The two nod at Hessian and then walk over to join Nick and Richard.

Nick: Oh please for the love of God, no!

Richard: What are you talking about? The closer we can get to Tracy the better, what’s wrong with you?

Nick: Tracy’s not coming alone though.

Chainz frowns at the two men as he takes a seat and offers Tracy his lap, which she happily jumps on. Both put on headphones.

Chainz: Damn baby girl, you’re getting a bit heavy.

His 00 sized wife smiles.

Tracy: Nice joke.

Chainz: What can I say, that’s who I am. Ask all these people here tonight and they’ll tell you just how funny I am.

Nick: Among other things.

Chainz: Watch your mouth in my presence boy.

Richard: Don’t listen to my rude co-worker over here; it’s a pleasure to have you both here. Especially you Tracy.

Tracy: Giggle giggle.

Chainz: Keep your eyes on the match Richard.

The bell finally rings and the two men in the ring begin to circle each other, Hessian wearing a grin knowing backup is around just in case Shakur and Daniels decide to have some fun.

Nick: The size differential is truly impressive and it’s immediately at work as the two men lock up. Hessian shoves Johnson to the ground in a show of strength.

Chainz: He’s got plenty of that.

Tracy: He’s like a big ole teddy bear.

All 3 men cast Tracy a weird look, especially Nick’s whose face can be read as "is she for real?".

Nick: Anyway, Hessian picks Johnson up. Irish whip into the ropes, misses the clothesline and gets caught with a dropkick to the knee. Johnson off the ropes to try and capitalize and hits a huge clothesline knocking the monster over.

In the ring, Johnson begins to lay in on the fallen Elite champ. The boots rain down, but don’t do much damage as Hessian quickly rises and pushes Johnson away.

Hessian smirks as he locks up with Johnson again. He pushes him forward and clubs him hard on the back stunning the newcomer. With a head full of steam Hessian bounces off the ropes and nearly decapitates Johnson with a monster of a clothesline. He quickly mounts Johnson and starts going to town with closed fists.

Nick: Come on ref, those are closed fists and from a man that size that can be lethal.

Chainz: Everyone knows the risks when they step foot in the ring.

Richard: Yeah Nick, this isn’t the Disney channel. Hessian and Chainz are here to win matches…

Chainz: He’s right, I don’t care if the other person goes to the hospital or even dies. That’s not my problem.

Nick: Of course it isn’t.

Chainz shoots him a sadistic glare, but Nick bravely goes back to the calling the action.

Nick: Mercifully the blows have stopped as Hessian lifts Johnson from the ground. Oh no, he rears back and drives his fist right into the bloodied forehead of Benjamin Johnson once more.

Richard: How much more can this man take.

It seems like a lot as Johnson manages to slide out of the ring to his feet as he walks around to regain his senses. Hessian quickly follows him to the outside only to find Johnson waiting for him. As Hessian is about to step off the ring apron, Johnson pulls the beasts leg down from him causing Hessian to land on the outside awkwardly.

Richard: That fall looked bad.

Nick: That’s one of the disadvantages about having that much size. Any fall could spell disaster. Now Johnson is going to work, he’s driving his own boots and punches to Hessian’s head.

Indeed he is, but unlike Hessian, Johnson keeps his fists open and so the damage is much less. Still the crowd gets behind him.

Johnson, Johnson, Johnson

They chant like mindless drones as Johnson finally relents on the punches.

Nick: John now back in the ring and he’s climbing to the top rope. What’s he planning?

Richard: Suicide?

Nick: Hessian slowly to his feet and he has no idea where Johnson is.

As Hessian turns to face Benjamin Johnson the newcomer jumps from the top rope to the outside connecting with a huge flying clothesline that sends Hessian back in the guardrail with a thud.

Nick: Johnson now back in the ring as the referee begins the count.

1

2

3

Richard: Come on Hessian, shake the cobwebs out.

4

5

6

7

Hessian starts to move and hears the count occurring and with great speed for a man his size he slides back into the ring.

Nick: Hessian now back in the ring and immediately he is on the offense again. Those devastating punches are doing a number on the bloodied Johnson. Hessian lifting Johnson and wrapping his giant arms around him in a bearhug.

Richard: He’s going to squeeze the air right out of him.

Hessian continues squeezing Johnson who tries to fight back with blows to the head. Suddenly, Hessian drops Johnson and catches him off guard with a huge headbutt that floors the newcomer.

Nick: Nothing pretty about these moves, but they are effective.

Chainz: What are you saying Nick? This is a thing of beauty.

Johnson rises again and is met by yet another punch from Hessian. He stumbles back and is grabbed by the throat.

Nick: Hessian just lifted a 268 pound man by the throat and slammed him to the ground. This is incredible; the man’s strength is inhuman.

Richard: He is the Elite champion and why else would Chainz be teaming up with Hessian, right?

Chainz doesn’t respond and instead intently watches the action in the ring.

Hessian goes for the pin.

One…

Two…

Th-

Nick: Kickout, this man has a lot of fight left in him yet.

Richard: Not a lot of common sense though.

Hessian smiles as he gets to inflict more damage. He lifts Johnson off the mat and raises him up in a suplex position, holding him high above the ground.

Richard: And here comes the fall! Hessplex!

Johnson isn’t moving as Hessian once again goes for the cover.

One…

Two…

Thre-

Another kickout. Hessian doesn’t show any signs of letting up as he lifts Johnson off the mat and squares him up for a straight punch. At the last second Johnson moves out of the way and kicks at the back of Hessian’s knee. The big man buckles slightly, but doesn’t go down. Johnson kicks again causing some pain from the big man. Hessian shoves Johnson away, but having sensed an opening Benjamin is quickly back to attacking the back of Hessian’s right knee. After a few more blows Hessian drops his knee to the mat. Benjamin Johnson bounces off the ropes and delivers a perfect dropkick right into Hessian’s face dropping the monster on his back.

Nick: And a cover for Johnson.

Richard: It’s futile Nick, he can’t win.

One…

Tw-

A 2 count is all he can manage as Hessian powers out.

Johnson is back to his feet and as Hessian rises he drops his shoulder into the back of the monster’s knee once again. With Hessian on one knee Johnson is able to connect with a vicious DDT.

Nick: Hessian has a big head, but not even that is going to shield him from that move.

Richard: All he is doing is making it worse on himself. When Hessian gets up he’s going to be pissed.

Benjamin Johnson quickly climbs the top rope again and before Hessian can rise leaps off and buries his fist right into Hessian’s chest.

Nick: Another cover, but another kickout by Hessian.

Richard: It’s going to take much more than Benjamin Johnson has to put this giant away.

Hessian fights through the pain and is quickly back to his feet. Johnson rushes him, but is caught by a large hand around the throat. With a bit of effort Hessian lifts him and spikes him with a chokeslam, before doing it all again.

Nick: To Hell and Back by Hessian and this one is over. Did you see the way Johnson’s head bounced off the mat? That was sick.

Hessian drops for the cover.

One…

Two…

Three---

At the last second Benjamin Johnson kicks out drawing a bemused expression from the giant. He shrugs and goes back to work.

Nick: Hessian lifts the smaller man and shoves him to the corner. He goes for the God Smack! Thank God he missed.

Richard: Did you see that power! He missed Johnson’s head, but he connected with the turnbuckle and sent the protective padding flying.

Nick: Can you imagine what would have happened if he had connected?

Johnson, realizing the same thing quickly rolls out of danger. He knows Hessian is truly trying to injure him now.

Nick: Hessian shaking his hand from the missed uppercut and this is the opening Johnson was looking for.

Benjamin Johnson quickly gets behind Hessian and with a strain he manages to roll Hessian up in the most awkward and weird looking schoolboy ever.

Richard: AHHHHH BUUUTTTTSSEEEXXXXXX!

The pin attempt doesn’t even last a second as Hessian immediately powers out. Both men are quickly back to their feet and Hessian comes out swinging his giant fists. Johnson manages to dodge the first two, but the third connects squarely and drops the smaller man.

Nick: Hessian quickly lifts Johnson and shoves him between his feet. He falls back and oh what a horrible looking spike piledriver.

Johnson’s head bounces off the mat as the fans gasp. The falls looks bad as Johnson holds onto his neck. Uncaring, Hessian begins to drop his boots right on the upper chest and neck area of Benjamin Johnson who can do nothing, but try and use his hands as protection.

Richard: Looks like your ferocity and tenacity is wearing off on the big man.

Chainz: Looks like.

Both men are back to their feet and Hessian gets right behind Johnson. He bends down slightly and locks in a reverse headlock. With a smile he drops to the ground driving the exposed head of Benjamin Johnson into his shoulder. The smaller man bounces off and lands in a sitting position, completely out of it.

Hessian bounces off the ropes and as he runs back towards Johnson bends over and connects with the God Smack which lifts Johnson off a sitting positions and sends him flying through the air across the ring.

PRIME THAT SHIT!

The chants echo down from the top of the arena all the way to the ring where a sprawled out Benjamin Johnson is seeing stars.

Hessian goes for the cover.

One…

Two…

Three..-

Nick: WHAT!

Richard: I can’t believe this, did he just kick out?

Chainz: Fuck.

Both commentators cringe.

Nick: Well that was uncalled for.

Chainz shoots him an icy glare again as the action in the ring continues.

Hessian looks down at the bloodied Johnson with a smirk on his face. He lifts the smaller man up once again and gets behind him. He puts Johnson in a full nelson and begins charging with Johnson’s chest sticking out towards the exposed turnbuckle.

Benjamin Johnson’s eyes flash as he knows he’s done for if he doesn’t counter. Somehow he manages to dip his shoulder just enough to knock Hessian slightly off balance. The two men go toppling into the turnbuckle with Hessian turning right into it at the last second. The side of his head collides with the exposed steel with a thud and sends the giant man crumpling to the ground in pain.

Nick: I don’t know who I feel sorry for more, Hessian or the steel.

Hessian’s head is bleeding as he holds his ear and side as Johnson is quick to roll into a cover.

One…

Two…

Thre-

Nick: Damn, so close to a major upset.

Hessian manages to get his foot on the bottom rope and the referee is forced to stop the count.

Hessian again fights through the indescribable pain and gets to his feet.

Nick: How this man can even stand is a mystery to me. That shot he took was hellacious.

Richard: The man is more monster than human, not even a silver bullet or a stake to the heart is going to stop this man.

Benjamin Johnson rushes Hessian, but is caught and lifted high in the air. Hessian signals for the end.

Nick: If he hits the Hellevator this one is all over.

Benjamin Johnson tries to slide out of the move, but Hessian has him tight. Without anything to be done he is resigned to his fate.

Richard: HELLEVATOR!!! This one is over.

Hessian drops for the cover.

One…

Two…

Three…

Nick: This match is over.

Vince Howard: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match HESSSSSSSSSSIAN!!!

Nick: Another win for the monster.

Richard: Did you have any doubt?

Chainz: You two chirp like mindless birds. No wonder no one takes you seriously. Speaking of birds I think I hear Lisa Tyler calling my name. Let’s go honey.

The couple stands to leave as Hessian celebrates in the ring and then joins his "friends" as they head to the back.

Jacob Cross is still wet and is now storming the backstage area wielding a chair with vengeance on his mind.

Nick: I hope he finds Hoyt and teaches him a lesson that he soon won’t forget anytime soon. Hoyt Williams is a child who needs a spanking.

Richard: What can Jacob Cross teach Hoyt Williams? That’s like Jon and Kate giving a lecture on relativity to Einstein.

Cross stops in front of a door painted gold with a sign attached that reads, "HOYT WILLIAMS –NUMBER ONE BY DIVINITY~! Do not disturb lost in deep medication doing the LORDS WILL." Cross smiles as he slowly opens the door and peeks inside. The only light is that of candles as Cross slowly sneaks in approaching a figure bent over an altar in deep prayer in the back of the room. The figure is wearing a baggy brown robe that has the name HOYT stitched in the back.

Nick: What the hell is going on in there some kind of hoodoo?

Cross pulls the chair back raising it up with a firm grip ready to unload hard.

Jacob Cross: Here comes a taste of real salvation.

Before Cross can swing the chair forward the figure spins around to reveal it’s the patron saint of wrestling valets; Our Lady of GaGa. She looks panicked and scared.

Jacob Cross: I thought you were….

From behind a solid gold plated bible comes crashing into the skull of Cross. The thud is heard throughout the arena as Cross goes down hard. Hoyt Williams smiles from behind the bible as he smashes the words of the gospel into Cross’ skull again and again until blood starts to come to cover the gold. Hoyt is about to go in for a final blow but is stopped by the hands of somebody off camera.

Hoyt Williams: What are you doing student?? I’m about to deliver this bastard to evil.

It’s Tony Tagliabue who is holding the bible back.

Tony Tagliabue: You made your point. Isn’t excess the call of the devil?

Hoyt Williams: Your right my POINT has been made. SPREAD THE WORD OF MY GOSPEL! For Hoyt Williams is back and vengeance in the name of God is delivered unto this scum! You do not disrespect me or my father!! I’m out of this sinful country back to God’s nation of America.

Tony Tagliabue actually goes over to check on Cross as Hoyt storms out of the room with Our Lady of Gaga in pursuit. He looks concerned and calls for the medics.

Nick: Another disgusting attack by a very sick man.

Richard: That’s absurd; if Hoyt was sick he would heal himself.

Nick: I think Jacob Cross and all of us have learned tonight what kind of man Hoyt Williams is, and I’m sure he will seek his OWN vengeance on Hoyt next week.

Richard: Not unless he’s as stupid as a Canadian! If he had any brains he would retire again and avoid the wrath of his Hoytness.

Nick: Here come the medics we’ll keep you updated on the status of Jacob Cross as it comes in or you can check out our website after the show as I’m sure news will be flooding in.

The #1 contender for the Universal Championship makes his way through the backstage corridors, each step placed quickly and with purpose. He passes various members of the PRIME backstage crew… roadies, interviewers (Mills, anyway), cameramen, an intern or two. One of them even yells out his name.

"Kaiser!"

But the Next in Line just keeps walking, the shout falling on deaf ears. There’s a clear destination Vashaun has in mind, and given the events that have occurred in recent weeks, it’s not difficult to assume where that location might be.

Kaiser comes to an abrupt stop in front of a door and slams the side of his fist against its surface a couple times. There’s a momentary pause before the door swings open, and all at once, you can here Calgary grown. No love for their fellow countrymen.

Standing in the doorway is none other than the Universal Champion himself, The Original Villain, Jason Snow.

Snow: I see you’re walking, plebe. There for a minute, I was worried I might have crippled your ass last week, and you wouldn’t even make it to the PPV.

Vashaun: I’m doing just fine.

Snow: Good. I don’t want any excuses when I beat you next month and end your disappointing career. Last week was just a taste of what’s in store for you at GAN.

The Next in Line folds his arms across his chest and nods his head, digesting yet another helping of classic Jason Snow ego.

Vashaun: It’s funny you should mention that… cuz your sneak attack last week got me to doin’ some thinking. I was recalling us fighting up the ramp, and you dropping me on my head… right on that steel grate at the top of the ramp, and all that brawling anywhere and everywhere… it took me back.

The Original Villain rolls his eyes and leans against the door frame.

Snow: Do you have point, ape? Or are you just wasting my time? In case you’ve forgotten, I’ll be main eventing yet another ReVolution, and since I’m teamed with that half-wit loser Jay Phoenix, that means it’s essentially a handicap match. Not that I can’t handle those odds, I’ve been known to defeat three, four, even five guys at a…

Vashaun: I’ve got a point. The point is, last week took me back to an earlier stage in my career. And after discussing it with the appropriate parties, I’ve been granted the addition of a stipulation for our Career Vs Title match at The Great American Nightmare.

Snow: Kissing up to that bitch of a boss?

The Next in Line no-sells the comment.

Vashaun: Per the approval of the Board, the main event of GAN will be No Holds Barred.

The comment lights a fire under Snow who pushes himself away from door frame and throws his hands into the air.

Snow: WHAT?! Is that wench out of her mind?!

Vashaun: Seemed fair, since you got to add that stipulation about me putting my career on the line, that I got to make an addition to that match myself.

Snow: No way this stands, plebe! No way in hell!

Vashaun: What’s the matter, Snow? You sound… almost… scared. Terrified of the thought of stepping into the ring with me when the rules go out the window? Mortified of what the man who dominated the Intense Title Division is going to do to you when anything and everything is fair game?

The Original Villain locks eyes with The Next in Line, biting his bottom lip, fists clenched at his side.

Snow: Someone with my track record isn’t terrified of anything. I’ve overcome every obstacle ever set in front of me by this company or any other! I’ve beaten every peasant, every curtain jerker, every rising star, and every so-called legend I’ve ever stepped into the ring with. And just last month, I beat you… clean in the middle of the ring. One-on-one, handicap matches, triple threats, it doesn’t matter what they throw at me. No Holds Barred just gives me more ways to end your career. It doesn’t change anything, plebe.

Vashaun: It’s easy to stand there in the doorway of your locker room, just moments after finding out. But I wonder how you’ll feel when GAN rolls around, and you’re standing at the gorilla position, waiting for the sound of your music… when you’ve had a couple weeks to think about exactly what you’re in store for. 200 days, Snow. That’s how long I reigned as king of the Intense division. That’s how long I walked into steel cages, into the realm of barb-wire bats, ladders, chairs, broken bones and shredded flesh… and walked out with gold around my waist. Its old hat for me, champ. I’m like the career criminal who always finds himself in shady business. I can’t kick it. Not proud of it. But I’ll be damned if I haven’t gotten real good at it.

Somewhere in Jason Snow’s lungs, there exists a response, but it never escapes his lips… not before The Next in Line turns and walks away, leaving the Universal Champion to alone to think about the ante that has just been upped on already ridiculously high stakes.

After an explosive confrontation with Lisa Tyler, one wouldn't find it illogical for Devin Shakur to leave the building. He just burned the most beneficial bridge in the PRIME world. Even though she might be losing steam, she still holds a good portion of the cards in the deck.

Well, Devin Shakur doesn't exactly play by the rules of convenience.

The Black Plague leans against the wall outside his locker room. Christian Daniels mans the rogue camera that is filming.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

With the eyes of a man who knows that his time in the company is going to come to a close, one way or the other, Shakur stares into the camera. He hasn't been this enraged in quite a while, mostly because he's had the upper hand for a good portion of the year. The history books would indicate that ReVolution 190 was the last time he was in such a foul mood.

Devin Shakur: You know, I've reached the end of my fucking rope in this place.

Nick (OSV): You aren't kidding.

Richard (OSV): Dude, I haven't seen someone manhandle Lisa Tyler like that.

Nick (OSV): I'm stunned she hasn't kicked me out of the build-

Devin Shakur: Shut the mouth, Stuart, I'm the center of attention right now. I've heard the whispers through the locker room and everywhere I go. Hessian is going to decimate me when he gets his hands around my scrawny little neck. Suck the life out of me like a rabbit in the mouth of a lion. I've had priests come up to me on the street and offer me last rites.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Devin Shakur: Oh, yeah, of course, look who I'm speaking to? An uneducated cavalcade of retards. Of course anybody in PRIME, the wrestling world, and you bunch of fucking twits in Canada are going to believe I stand no shot. I can walk through the corridors as the undisputed best wrestler in the world, hardest striker to ever grace the annals, but if something giant and shiny comes along, you'll instantly give him more attention than me.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Devin Shakur: The short term memory of those in the wrestling industry is nothing short of bombastically appalling. Every time you get burned, like a shut down cornerback, it has to go in the back of your mind and incinerated like an incriminating political document. For ALL OF 2009, I've been the GODDAMN Death of anybody who came across me. I HAVEN'T LOST A SINGLE MATCH! I'VE ENDED TWO CAREERS BUT I'M STILL TREATED LIKE A PIECE OF SHIT!

Shakur strategically snaps his neck to each side, letting the crack resonate through the silent corridors.

Devin Shakur: I've been through obstacles bigger and badder than Von Kelsig. I wear the evidence underneath this shirt. The scars trap my body and I have to live with them every day. But you know what? I've grown to accept them. I've grown to accept that I'm a goddamn demon who is incapable of being stopped, even by arrogant cocks like Hessian.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Devin Shakur: So you want to play one more game, Hessian? Think you are so fucking big and bad that a short stack like me can't get in your head? Can't desecrate you like I have the rest of the roster? Well I'll give you an olive branch. Great American Nightmare. I'm not doing anything and I doubt you are either. Let's say we resolve this conflict in the squared circle. Yeah, Hess, I'm calling YOU out.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Devin Shakur: And I'll sweeten the pot, making it so fucking savory that you can't resist. I'll allow you to pick the special stipulation for the match. Whatever you want. You don't need to ask the question how sadistic can you get. You need to ask how much blood you want to lose. You need to ask how much skin you want to lose. How many bones do I want to have by the end of the night. How much of the remaining sanity do I want to have left...Do I want to have a career by the time Shakur is done destroying me?

Shakur drops his arms into his pockets.

Devin Shakur: The Black Plague is going to end you Hessian, whether you like it or not.

Christian slams the camera to the ground and accompanies his brother into the locker room.

GSP is not impressed
By this commercial



He he he he he he he

Oh My God
Car
Rah
Tea

He he he he he

Oh My God
Jew
Jif
Shoes

Oh My God
Oh My God

Lindz is going to hate me for this.

Vince Howard: This contest is scheduled for one fall.

I have a competition in me. I want no one else to succeed.

The gruff tone of Daniel Plainview’s voice quickly transitions to the hammering of rising drumbeats and heavy cords. The rising action of Devin Townsend’s ‘Bastard’ preludes his arrival.

P A R I A H

Screaming white light bathes the entire entrance area, the PRIME*View flickering through the assorted highlight package of Brandon Youngblood. Throwing back the curtain, he saunters towards the ring, barely visible through the blinding light he appears from. His eyes are fixated on the ring, his face remaining stoic as the fans boo him.

Vince Howard: Introducing first… from Winnipeg Manitoba Canada…standing six feet three and weighing in at two-hundred forty pounds…he is a former three time PRIME 5-Star Champion…the PRIME Pariah…BRANDON…YOUNGBLOOD!

Ambling down the aisle, Youngblood’s focused demeanor seems completely detached from his surroundings. Walking across the ringside mats, he slowly stalks his way to the stairs. Each climbing step forward stabs the steel, his left hand grasping the ring post as he takes his first pace across the apron. Moving between the ropes, he brings his head down and slackens his limbs before exploding out of the stretching of his shoulders. He walks with purpose to the far corner ring post, stepping on the middle ropes. Peering towards the crowd, Brandon’s expression does not change.

Stepping downward, Brandon walks across the ring and grabs onto the top rope, pulling it completely stretch out his arms as Bastard begins to fade. Youngblood casually clasps the top ropes on each side of his designated corner as he rests his back against the turnbuckles, his eyes staring towards the entrance ramp.

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.

Announcer Prompt:

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.

And when she somersaults to her feet? Her opponent is standing there, launching his full body weight into a diving lariat.

Richard: She was doing her intro! She had some more dance moves to flash and get my blood pumping! You damn buzzkilling bastard!

Nick: And the Havana Harlot just got brought back into reality.

Elvis Nixon, not necessarily all torn up about the two opponents getting into it, calls for the bell as Brandon brings Elise to her feet and tosses her with an Irish whip.

Ding Ding Ding!

Nick: And we are underway here quickly as Youngblood goes with the Irish whip AMETHYSTATION on the carom.

Richard: He ruined her shaking and flipping and undulating and HE RUINED MY DAMN NIGHT! How many of these guys do you have to see with their skin tight spandex before you just suddenly get the gay?! Well Elise was helping me not want to go grab a random guys package because Hoytdamn, because this all seems homoerotic enough for me!

Nick: Elise springing off the ropes for that one. She got hit with one good shot and you can tell she can still feel it as she tries to massage her neck STANDING MOONSAULT she’s already going for a cover ONE TWO Youngblood just presses her out.

Richard: Yeah. Probably reached low. Probably copped a feel. (Snippily) I’m jealous.

Nick: Both of these two up to their feet and Elise shoots low with a dropkick to the shin. She has the Pariah grabbing at the leg for a moment SPINNING HEEL KICK and she hit that like lightning! And Youngblood is down.

Richard: Don’t wash your hands Brandon. I might want to catch a sniff.

Nick: Can you please spare me the pleasantries of your uncontrollable libido?

Richard: I can control it. I’m not Chainz!

Nick: Elise not wasting any energy, instead waiting for Youngblood to get up. Smart strategy for one half of the PRIME Tag Team Champions, as she doesn’t have the size or strength to even want to test Brandon’s inside game. If he gets a hold of you, he refuses to let go.

Richard: And now I wish I had one of those Freaky Friday moments.

Nick: Youngblood standing up and gets HIT with a leg lariat by Ares.

Richard: I need to donate to the charity to get her to wear assless chaps. And then to sit on my face.

Nick: Alright Dick, we get it. You want to get all inside the pants of the Havana Harlot. Now do it. She’s standing up right now with that beautiful smile. Just go in there and tell her how you really feel.

Richard: Why do that? Binoculars and magazine prints work best. She jumped a shark, Nick. A shark, okay? Isn’t that impressive to you.

Nick: (sighing) And as Elise begins doing a little jig in the ring, I’m starting to wonder if FX will think we’ve jumped the shark thanks to my partner over here.

Youngblood slowly gets up, grabbing around his neck as Ares stops her showboating just in time to see him coming. Just. And by just, well, that means she got booted in the gut.

Nick: Youngblood not too pleased for being taken lightly by the (groans) Swaggerific One, and buries his boot into her midsection. Gets a quick standing headscissor—

Richard: Should have turned her around Brand, that’s where the mouth is—

Nick: Youngblood powering her up on he’s going to powerbomb her OH NO HE ISN’T hurricanrana reversal by the slippery diva! Elise Ares showing us a lot in the early going here!

Richard: Not enough, obviously.

Nick: Youngblood up and gets chopped by Elise Ares.

WOOOOOOOOO!

Oh yeah. She chopped Brandon Youngblood. The crowd was booing after the obligatory WOOOOO, sure. And even though she had been just out of range the entire match, there she was, standing there with a cocksure smile on her face. Perhaps she was a Crazy Bitch. He growled right after she hit another chop across his chest.

WOOOOOOOOO!

Ares: What you going to do about it, pendejo?!

RUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~!

Nick: Knife edge chop from Brandon Youngblood and he just dropped one half of the Tag Team Champions!

Elise? She’s not feeling so pretty anymore. Not after her perfect complexion was bruised. The replay of the blast shows Youngblood rearing his arm back and crushing the side of his hand as blurring velocity across the arrogant Harlot’s chest, instantly dropping her to the canvas.

Nick: Youngblood yanking Ares up by the hair—

Richard: Hey hey hey! Elvis you need to make him let go of her hair!

RUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~!

Nick: BLASTED ARES AGAIN! She’s somehow still on her feet—

Richard: I see the whites of her poor little eyes! What a monst—

RUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~!

Nick: And Elise Ares, that guy who just hit you is a three time holder of the belt you hold a shot of! And he technically never lost it two of those times.

Richard: Oh shut up. He was stripped! STRIPPED! Alright!

Nick: (amazed) Did I just boost up Brandon Youngblood?

Richard: Yeah, you did.

Nick: Great. And right now, you hate the guy. Elise Ares hugging her chest as she rolls around the ring like she just got pulled out of the Gulf of Mexico.

Youngblood stalks his way towards Ares, coiling himself and waiting for her to get to her feet.

Richard: Well look at what he is doing to this poor, wealthy, fine as Hoyt lady. Now she’s no Our Lady of Gaga, but I think she’s an exceptional piece.

Nick: Elise Ares looks like she’s crying here as she pulls herself up and you can see that her chest looks like it’s been struck with a belt three times. Youngblood grabs onto her OVERHEAD belly to belly suplex he throws her like rag doll diving cover ONE! TWO! Ares got her hands in the ropes.

Richard: She makes a living on those looks! He can’t be messing those up! Elvis, you have to get him away from her.

Nick: Youngblood not going away though as he uses the ropes to pull himself up and buries the heel of his boot into her sternum. And another. Her arms taking more of the brunt as Elise continues to maintain a hold of her chest and Brandon seems like the hearing problem he addressed earlier isn’t a factor.

Richard: Of course not. He’s a liar.

Nick: The Havana Harlot in trouble after a hot start and Youngblood pulling her into the middle of the ring by her legs. Youngblood trying to get a hold of her for a leg lock and Elise brings her legs to her chest pushes away Youngblood’s grip is free but he’s still standing he dives towards her Ares rolling away and Youngblood only hits the canvas pushes himself up GETS ABSOLUTELY DRILLED IN THE HEAD WITH A KICK! Elise Ares just unleashed a nasty kick to the side of Youngblood’s head!

Richard: See! And that’s what you get when you mess with royalty! And Elise Ares is royalty!

Nick: She has the blood of lucha libre pumping through her veins as she went for the left side of Youngblood’s head. And I know that a kick like that is painful to begin with, but with what happened last week I imagine it is much worse.

Kicking Brandon over to his back, Ares puts her boot on his chest and steps over him.

Ares: Que Tal Eso?

The fans boo as she begins thrusting her pelvis, grinding into the air like she’s Shakira on a cocaine bender. She stops for a moment, lowering her head to spit in the face of Youngblood. Long hair is a problem in these situations. As a thick rope of Havana saliva slathers his face, Youngblood tears at a tuft of hair, causing Ares to shriek.

Ares: AYE AYE AYE AYE AYE!

Richard: Come on now Elvis! The hair again!

Nick: Youngblood CRUSHES Ares from the bottom with an elbow from one of those tattoo covered arms of his, dropping the Havana Harlot to the canvas!

Richard: That’s a lawsuit. He shouldn’t be allowed to elbow like that.

Nick: Brandon Youngblood wiping Ares spit off his face with his forearm—

Richard: And what a waste of that.

Nick: —and walking over to Ares fallen form. He crouches over her, sitting on her back and yanks her head up CROSSFACE blow to the head! Youngblood brings her up AND ANOTHER! Another! Another! Brings the head up and DRIVES the point of his elbow into the back of her head! Brandon Youngblood showing us a brutal style of striking we haven’t seen from him before as he looks like he just obliterated one half of the Tag Team Champions!

Richard: What’s with this? Does he like beating beautiful women up or something? Oh wait…

Nick: Youngblood rolling her over ONE! TWO! Kickout! A rather limp kick out by the Swaggerific One as she looks like she might have a concussion.

Richard: She probably does! Which means this match needs to stop before this Hawaiian Tropics model looks like a beaten old hag.

Nick: Youngblood rolling her over and just hauls off and SMACKS Ares across the face. This match seems to be taken a darker turn than what we have seen over the last few weeks.

After smacking her, Youngblood disengages and backpedals away from the Havana Harlot, hoping his message is clear. The slap itself, while violent, is enough to snap Ares out of her stupor, causing her blood to boil. The fans seem to be behind Youngblood for beating her up, and she doesn’t know how to handle that, especially given her opinion of him as nothing more than an inferior being.

Nick: Ares nipping up to her feet, cradling her head in her hands. She spits—I think I see her spit up blood right there as she scowls at the Pariah. Youngblood is expressionless! And he’s just staring at Ares as she makes a blind charge Youngblood going for the backdrop Elise going for a DDT Youngblood lifts her up she’s staying on going for a tornado DDT AND SHE—

Richard: WHAT?!

Nick: Youngblood has her and just DROPS her with a northern lights suplex! Youngblood bridges! One! Two! Ares got a shoulder up!

Richard: That’s one half of the Tag Team Champions! He can’t do that to her!

As Richard continues fawning over the Havana Harlot, the entire sequence is shown in real time in the corner of the screen, flashing quickly back and forth before being punctuated by the suplex.

Nick: And it’s clear; Youngblood might have said he’s rusty but that deliberate mind set of getting an opponent off their game and to think with their heart rather than their head is almost razor sharp. And Elise Ares is about to be his first victim.

Richard: You sound like it’s over. This isn’t over!

But it is Richard. Stretching his legs wide, Brandon waits for Ares to get up from the suplex, arching his back and punching the canvas. Again. Another punch smashes into the canvas and for some reason, the mannerism is causing those in the front row to slam the guardrail in sequence. Throwing his fists violently into the canvas, Youngblood uncoils the second Elise Ares gets to her feet.

Nick: Youngblood exploding forward LIFTS HER UP SPIN—

Richard: YES!!!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: DDT! Ares hit as Youngblood looked to unload her!

The replay of the impact is crushing; Ares gets her arm around Youngblood’s neck right in the nick of time before she would have been tossed into the canvas like a sack of potatoes. Obviously, she is not impressed

By his performance.

Nick: And now Elise Ares has evened things out. Looked as if she was about to be driven into the canvas with a spinebuster but not she could be on her way to a turning this match around.

Richard: Could be? Replace that with is and you have a correct statement.

Nick: Ares picking herself up and springing off the ropes LEGDROP across the throat COVER one! TWO! No! Youngblood kicking out. Ares sneering towards her opponent and she SHE’S RAKING HIS EYEBALLS!

Richard: Oh yeah baby! You poke his eyes out!

Nick: Blatant cheating by Elise Ares here and Elvis Nixon is counting her off, and she stops at the four count only to START AGAIN! Come on! What is with her?

Richard: She had her hair yanked around and had an elbow driven into the back of her head. She’s got marks on her chest. I’m sorry, but he sort of deserves this.

Nick: And Nixon counting again and Ares finally stops, pulling herself and driving her boot into Brandon’s face. And another! Ares not showboating now as she goes to pick Youngblood up—INSIDE CRADLE ONE! TWO! No!

Richard: Keep your distance Elise!

Nick: Ares caught by surprise there and she’s up first. Youngblood following after and she is charging forward jawbreaker! Youngblood stunned and still on his feet after she hit that jawbreaker and now with the Irish whip into the corner she follows with him she’s doing a cartwheel and backflip RUNS HARD into Brandon with a back elbow strike!

Richard: She’s got skills. Maybe one day, she too can be the Champz.

Nick: She turns around and BLASTS an elbow strike into the face of Youngblood. And another! And another! Another! Another! Another! Another! Another! Ares going nuts here and she Irish whips Youngblood out of the corner with everything she has! He hits his sternum into the ring pad! Backpedaling BACKCRACKER! Elise Ares hit the backcracker and this is it!

Richard: Climb those ropes baby!

Elise climbs up the ropes, measuring Youngblood who looks to be prone.

She can’t help herself. Seeing Youngblood down, she cracks a smirk and shows off her incredible balance, thrusting her hips to the crowd.

Richard: Look out!

The Havana Harlot doesn’t see it because she is too busy dancing. Too busy showing off. Youngblood climbs the ropes right behind her, grabbing hold of Ares with a half nelson.

Nick: HALF NELSON SUPLEX OFF THE TOP ROPE! ELISE ARES WAS FOLDED ON THE TOP OF HER HEAD LIKE AND ACCORDION!

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

The instant replay burns into focus, showing the Havana Harlot’s frightened face after she is grabbed, followed soon after by her being tossed in the half nelson suplex and landing on her head.

Nick: Cover! One! Two! Three!

Ding Ding Ding!

Youngblood rolls out of the ring mere seconds after getting the victory, grabbing at his neck and expressionlessly sauntering towards the ramp. Bastard by Devin Townsend rips through the speakers as the fans…cheer.

Richard: What a bastard!

Nick: And Brandon Youngblood makes Elise Ares pay.

If the law of averages were applied to rivalries in the wrestling business, most competitors would come out rather even when it comes to gaining the upper hand over opposition. Seldom is there a great difference in gathering momentum when two superstars set out to destroy one another and fight for supremacy.

However, the law of averages tend to differ when Devin Shakur is involved. Speaking of which, there goes The Man in Black now, angrily heading for the exit and his ticket out of Calgary.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Shoving through the main entrance to the wrestlers corridor is the imposing Christian Daniels, bags slung over his shoulder. The Man in Black falls a step behind, shaking his head the entire way. He doesn't bother to look at any of the stagehands or wrestlers who are maneuvering around to avoid his path. He stood up to Lisa Tyler in a violent way, doing everything but strike her in the face. As big of a bastard as he is, now he's gotten more infamy. A few of the workers silently applaud The Man in Black, although they'll never admit it.

Devin Shakur: Let's get out of this country. I'm tired of always having to look over my shoulder.

Christian Daniels: We gotta get out a huge damn drawin' board to boot.

Speaking of boot...

The thumping footsteps come out of nowhere. Glancing up, Daniels cocks his head and barely has time to yell out before he is picked up and slammed into the wall, leaving an ugly crack as he falls to the floor holding his ribs. Spinning on his heels, Shakur is disposed of just as quickly as he feels four bony knuckles the size of walnuts crunch against his temple.

Flopping to the ground he struggles to bring his vision into focus as a black silhouette dances in front of him, swaying and splitting into several more before melting back into the one massive figure as he looks up at his attacker. Daniels catches his breath and tries to get up only to have to massive hands planted on his shoulders shoving him back to the ground.

Shakur blinks a few times as his vision returns and he looks up to face his attacker. Immediately his blood boils as the grinning face of Hessian stares back at him, poised ready to attack again. Before the Man In Black can feel the full force of the Elite Champion bear down on him Hessian straightens up and produces a lead pipe. Suddenly stoic he tosses it to Shakur, chuckling as it cracks against his knee and clangs against the ground.

Hessian: Catch me if you can, asshole.

Just like that the Murder Show turns tail and takes off down the hallway, bounding away from Shakur. Glancing at the lead pipe and then at his biker brother, Shakur sits up and shakes his head before grabbing the pipe and pulling himself to his feet. Daniels follows suit, and the two bastards of PRIME share a knowing look.

Christian Daniels: The fuck is he playin' at?

Devin Shakur (Rubbing his temple): I'm going to let him hang on the back of the car by that damn beard!

Shakur and Daniels take off in the direction Hessian went, charging past backstage staff and glancing at all the open doors on either side of them. Coming to the last door ahead of them they see the Murder Show standing and waving at them with a big smile on his face, then hopping from foot to foot and gesturing them to come get some.

As they burst through the double doors into the back of the arena where all the equipment cases are stacked next to a fleet of PRIME 18-wheelers, Hessian takes off, once again easily out-running the Biker and the Man in Black. Shakur smacks the lead pipe against cases as they go, calling out to the Elite Champion while Daniels sprints ahead of him, almost matching Hessian's stride.

Suddenly Hessian banks right and bursts through a fire door leading outside. Shakur and Daniels throw themselves into the door and roar outside, expecting to confront the Murder Show for a brawl. Instead they hit the tarmac just in time to see a black truck speeding off into the night.

Christian Daniels: He ain't this stupid is he?

Devin Shakur: He's an ogre, C, what do you expect? If he wants to play this, let's play.

Daniels nods and bolts across to his bike parked a few yards away. Shakur keeps his eyes on the truck as it slows down, the horn honking after them. Daniels jumps on his motorcycle and opens up the guttural below of the beast. With a massive roar the rear tire kicks up a cloud of smoke as the bike speeds off.

The sweet taste of revenge creeping up his throat is suddenly soured as a deafening crack tears through his ears followed by the sounds of metal shearing. Daniels suddenly jerks forward and flies over his handlebars as the bike stops dead, the back wheel ripped out from beneath the frame.

Shocked and appalled by the sight of Daniel's bike apparently ripping itself apart, Shakur notices a shimmering length of chain attached to the tire now rolling back and flopping to the ground. Following it back to its source he finds it tied around a bollard beside where the bike was parked up.

Devin Shakur: Oh crap...

"My thoughts exactly."

Devin Shakur: What the-..

BAM

A massive uppercut catches Shakur on the chin as he turns to confront the voice behind him. As his skull snaps back from the impact he makes out the same silhouette that jumped him inside the arena.

Hessian.

Shakur crumples to the ground, motionless. Glancing up at the wrecked bike lying strewn across the road, the Murder Show smiles sadistically as Daniels lies amongst the wreckage, covered in bloody scrapes peppered with gravel. Spying the lead pipe next to Shakur he kicks it away underneath a nearby car.

Shakur, breathing heavily on the ground and bleeding from the corner of his mouth, looks up at Hessian, struggling to hold the weight of his own head up. Coughing and holding his jaw, the Man in Black sneers at the giant towering over him.

Devin Shakur: You're f-...fuckin'...dead...y'h-hear me? Dead.

Unimpressed with the threat, Hessian lifts a 22E sized boot off the ground, hanging it over Shakur's head.

Hessian: You think so, huh?

Crunch. The big boot comes down on Shakur's face, slamming it into the cold hard dirt. Gritting his teeth, Hessian grinds Shakur's head under his boot although luckily for the Man in Black he's out cold. Removing his boot from Shakur's head Hessian nudges it over with the tip, admiring the bloody mess of dirt and shredded skin on both his face and the ground. Big Hess cracks his neck and spits on Shakur's lifeless body.

Hessian: Piece of shit. I'm gonna do you like you did Rayne.

"Uhnnn...uhhh...

Hearing the spluttering groan, Hessian looks up to see Daniels rolling onto his back and holding his bleeding forearm in the air. His nerves are shot so badly his whole body is shaking, his arm quivering heavily. Walking over to the fallen Biker, Hessian scuffs his feet against the ground wiping off Shakur's stink and raises it over his brother's head.

Christian Daniels: Ya killed my ride...asshole...

Hessian: Shit. I'm sorry. Hey, call it a casualty of war. Do me a favour will ya?

Christian Daniels: Fuck off...

Hessian: Sweet. So when the two of you regain consciousness tell your buddy over there he got off lightly tonight. Come the Nightmare he's gonna be begging Lisa Tyler to let him quit before the year is even out. You do that for me, sugar tits?

Christian Daniels: The hell you talkin' about...regain consciousness? I'm wide awake you cun-...

Crunch.

The big boot slams down onto Daniels face, his nose bursting and his teeth chattering in his gums. As he bleeds out on the tarmac Hessian kicks him once more square in the temple for good measure and studies the fallen Biker.

Hessian: Motherfuckers. I am the Great American Nightmare. You fucked with the wrong one this time.

The scene fades as Hessian strolls back into the arena, hands in his pockets whistling a merry tune as he steps on Shakur's motionless body, eliciting a rush of air from the Man in Black's lungs. The pathetic wheeze makes Hessian chuckle as he reaches out for the fire door and slams it shut behind him, leaving Shakur and Daniels broken and bloodied on the floor.

For tonight, at least, the battle is his.

For tonight. At least.

Big Ben Roethlisberger strolls down the corridors, waving to technicians and shaking hands with a few of the undercard wrestlers. One gets his Steelers jersey signed.

Two corridors over, the sound of an alarmingly loud freight train resonates. Everybody scatters into an open locker room and latches the door out of fear.

They know what is coming.

The unsuspecting Steelers quarterback strikes up a conversation with Bryan Dawkins, who whips out his cellular phone and does the Hang Loose Gesture with the much larger Ben.

The rumbling gets louder and louder. Bryan Dawkins turns his head and casually walks away from the scene, pretending he doesn't know what is about to rain down.

When Ben goes to hit up the catering area-

-KABOOM!

The destructive force knocks him to the ground and slides him across the floor tiles. Stalking over with the tenacity of a lion, his antagonist is revealed.

Lindsay Troy, Wrestling Linebacker.

Lindsay Troy: YOU WANNA PLAY GAMES BEN? WELL LT IS BACK AND I GOT A NEW GAME FOR YOU! IT'S CALLED HOW MUCH PAIN CAN BEN STAND BEFORE BEN LEARNS NOT TO PLAY GAMES ANYMORE!

The Steelers helm leader still tries to shake the cobwebs while LT points a stern finger at him.

Lindsay Troy: That's my game! That's LT's game! And when it's game time, IT'S PAIN TIME BABY! WOOOOOOOOOOOO!

A cheap kick to the back and Lindsay Troy, Wrestling Linebacker, is off. Another job well done.

Brandon Pierce, the artist formerly known as Meat, walks through the backstage area. Having promised to take it to Michael Sloan he wanders around trying to pump himself up for the daunting task at hand. He is confident in his abilities, but Michael Sloan is a complete animal and has backup the likes of which had never before been seen in PRIME.

Chainz: Heya Meat!

As Brandon Pierce turns to face Chainz, he sees the man standing behind him, smiling like the sadistic bastard he is.

Brandon Pierce: Damn, that name is going to hang around like a bad smell forever. What do you want now Chainz? I don't have time for any games.

Chainz: You know I don’t like the way you were looking at Lisa earlier. I’ve got dibs on her and I’ll be damned if you walk in and steal her from me. She belongs to me Meat so don’t go thinking by promising her that you’re going to take me out that means anything. Lisa Tyler loves me; she just hasn’t realized it yet.

Brandon Pierce: Love? You don't know what love is, you live in your own crazy world....damn you’ve really got problems man, but I don’t care about that. I just want that title your little harlot is carrying around here somewhere, I've been looking but i haven't seen her. Have you?

Pierce shakes his head laughing at Chainz' previous comment

Pierce: (Mocking Chainz' accent) Lisa Tyler loves me she just doesn't know it yet. Jesus you need help…

Hessian: I think you’re the one in need of help.

Before Pierce can turn around to answer the mammoth monster he is floored from behind by the savage monster.

Immediately Hessian and Kazys begin stomping on the fallen Brandon Pierce, much like they did earlier to Jay Phoenix. Tyler Nelson and Elise Ares approach as the two giant men continue to rain boots on a defenseless Brandon Pierce.

Tyler Nelson: I don’t think our message is being heard. I'm not sure why you people can't comprehend its simplicity. Just like Jay Phoenix earlier, I’m afraid you just don’t understand the problem of siding with that woman. Being friendly with Lisa Tyler is only going to cause trouble for you, Mr. Pierce. But I guess you're finding that out directly. We want Lisa Tyler gone.

Chainz: And right into my bed. Remember, I got dibs on her.

Elise shudders as she stands as far from Sloan as she can, but his eyes lock on her. Despite Brandon being beaten right in front of him, his cold and scary eyes follow Elise as she tries to look away.

Tyler Nelson: Yes, Mr. Sloan, I'm well aware of your infatuation.

Hessian bellows while simultaneously driving his foot into the back of Pierce.

Hessian: Why don’t you stop yapping and do something Sloan.

Chainz smiles and joins the men in the beatdown. They lift Brandon Pierce and all three throw him into a wall much like earlier, but unlike earlier Chainz isn’t done. He grabs a nearby chain he had planted and wraps it around his arm. Kazys furrows his brow as he steps back, but Hessian smiles as Chainz begins to whip Brandon remorselessly.

Chainz: How’s that feel Meat? You think you can take my title? Try winning a match first you piece of shit.

Another whip.

Chainz: And you keep your hands off my prized bitch, got it.

A few more whips and Chainz tosses the chain aside. The men go back to work on Brandon.

Elise: Ooooh.

With him thoroughly beaten Elise runs over and delivers a kick right into his gut, however her boot is caught in his hands and she falls back out of it.

Elise: Hmmpf.

The three men lay into Brandon, sending the boot flying out of his hands. It lands by Elise who reaches over to scoop it up, only to see Chainz slither over like a snake and grab it right before her. He inhales her scent and shakes in delight. He licks the inside of her boot trying to get her sweat on his tongue. He then stops and offers to help Elise with her boot.

Chainz: May I, my lovely?

Elise: Eww, um you can keep it.

She quickly runs away and stands behind Kazys as Nelson frowns, quietly wondering what he's gotten himself into with Sloan. Hessian however pays him no heed as he continues to beat on Brandon. After a few more moments, Nelson sighs and looks down at his watch.

Tyler Nelson: I think that’s enough Mr. Kelsig.

Hessian shrugs and stops his assault.

Chainz: Why don’t we go find his bitch Claire and do the same thing?

A slightly concerned Tyler Nelson frowns.

Tyler Nelson: I don’t think that will be necessary tonight, Mr. Sloan.

Chainz: See that’s your damn problem Nelson. You ain’t got that killer instinct. How the hell are you gonna run this place being a pussy. Grow some balls and you’ll be running this place.

Tyler Nelson: There's a time and place for everything.

Chainz: Come on Hess, we’re done here.

Hessian and Chainz walk away feeling good about the beatdown as Tyler Nelson leans over a beaten Brandon Pierce.

Tyler Nelson: Next time perhaps you'll think twice about going against me. Actually, I hope for your sake there isn’t a next time.

Leaving the bloody and beaten carcass of Brandon Pierce behind the group walks off triumphantly.

Nick: The last match of the evening folks...Is going to be nothing short of chaos.

Richard: You got that right, bucko.

Nick: Two unlikely tag teams that ended ReVolution 206 at each others throats will collide in the squared circle. Kaiser Vashaun will team with 5 Star Champion 'The Grin' Tony Gamble-

Richard: The Permascar Superstar!

Nick: To take on Jay Phoenix and Jason Snow.

The split screen image of the two tag teams is shown on the PRIME*View.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The crowd is torn about who to cheer for. Kaiser Vashaun might be the greatest wrestler on the roster never to have held the Universal Championship, but he is plagued by Tony Gamble. Jay Phoenix is certainly a fan favorite anywhere he goes, but he is oppressed by The Original Villain.

Nick: You can expect everything to be thrown into the match and the kitchen sink.

Richard: I would expect Snow to throw the kitchen sink at Vashaun if it would keep him down.

Nick: That might cross his mind. One has to also wonder about the chemistry between these two teams. Snow and Phoenix were on the same side at ReVolution 200, but they did not get along at all.

Richard: Meanwhile, Gamble and Vashaun have never teamed together, but no doubt Gamble has rubbed it in his face about nine times backstage that he is the current 5 Star Champion.

Nick: And then there is the mayhem factor. How long are these four individuals going to be able to stay civil before the entire situation breaks down?

Richard: Regardless of what happens, we are going to be in for a treat. Two of the greatest competitors in the world displaying their skills live on ReVolution and two has beens like Phoenix and Vashaun. Let's go up to Vince Howard for the introductions.

Nick: Never the one to give anybody credit who doesn't deserve it are you?

Richard: I learned from the best, buddy boy.

Vince Howard: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is our Main Event of the evening!

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Vince: Introducing first, he weighs in at 262 pounds and hails from Jackson, Mississippi-

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Vince: The number one contender for the Universal Championship...KAISER VASHAUNNNNNNNN!

The lights in the arena go out, casting the building in complete darkness. Then the PRIMEview comes to life, a black and white image of a raging fire acting as the only light.

As the sounds of "Sound of Madness" begin to play, the fire on the screen slowly starts to gain color, till burning an intense orangeish hue. When the heavy beat to the music kicks in, the PRIMEview is taken over by the black&white "KV" angel wing image, and Kaiser Vashaun emerges from the back, a white glowing spotlight highlighting his arrival.

While making his way to the ring, the only light comes from the PRIMEview and the spotlight, which itself, blinks on and off, and fires from different locations in the arena. The result is an alternating image of compete darkness with that of Kaiser's journey occasionally being lit from above.

The spotlight captures every second or third step he takes, giving Kaiser the appearance of moving without being seen.

Once to the ring, Kaiser will step onto the ring apron and lean against the ropes. Standing under the spotlight, he will bow his head, looking towards the ground for a moment. As the lyrics blast out "I FEEL LIKE JACKSON, MISSISSIPPI!", Kaiser will quickly raise his head and fire his arms towards the rafters, roaring as the spotlight gives way to the arena lights which flicker rapidly, casting the ringside area in a white strobelight effect.

Vince Howard: His partner, hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada, and weighing in at 187 pounds...TONEEEEEEEEEEEE GAMBULLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

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

*ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE! ASSHOLE!*

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

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

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

Tony takes his time walking up the ring steps, staring into the ring for a few seconds with his left hand on the top rope, before ducking between the top and middle rope to step into the ring. The Wal*tron now shows footage from Revolution 106, where Gamble slams Kenjiro Ito face first into the mat with his 'Stop Laughing At Me' signature move.

## He'd only need a 3 foot coffin when he was dead
And he'd be in the guiness book for the world's biggest head
What a funny little fellow, but don't call him a shrimp
Or he'll attack your leg cause Gordos a tough gimp
He'd have a pogo ball that he'd bounce on for hours
And dirty little fathead Gordo would'nt take showers
When Halloween came, he wouldn't be a chump
Gettin all the candy goin round as a tree stump ##

Tony stands in the center of the ring, arms spread out toward the corners of the ring as he circles slowly. Another clip shows on the Wal*tron, this one from the Great American Nightmare; where Tony Gamble became the Five Star Champion by pinning Chandler Tsonda.

## Midget is a midget
Midget Mi-Mi-Mi-Mi-Midget
Midget is a midget
Hey you guys- Word
Midget is a midget
Midget Mi-Mi-Mi-Mi-Midget
Midget (wo-wo-wo-wo-word) is a midget
Like a midget in a urinal, I was gonna have to stay on my toes ##

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vince Howard: And his partner, weighing in at 232 pounds...THE UNIVERSAL CHAMPION, JASONNNNNNNN SNOWWWWWWWWWWW!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

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

Jason Snow emerges from backstage in all his glory, a title belt gleaming beneath the hot arena lights on his right shoulder. He spins for the crowd, arms outstretched, while they boo him vigorously. The champion takes it all in stride, literally, heading down toward the ring with a cocky grin smeared on his face.

Nick: Even in Canada, someone like Snow is not going to be cheered.

Richard: Most anybody would, but this crop of Canadians do not respect G-reatness, and so we have decided to leave them basking in their ignorance.

Nick: Yeah, like you have anything to do with Jason Snow other than ogle him from afar.

Richard: I...Shut up, Stuart.

Snow hops onto the apron and in the ring, glaring over at The Eternal Flame before hoisting his Championship high into the air. He points over at The Next in Line and mouths him before handing the belt to a ringside technician.

DING! DING! DING!

Both members on each team give an incredulous stare to their partner, the macho way of figuring out who is going to start the match for each side. Jason Snow extends his finger and demands that Phoenix "exit his ring or face the consequences". Phoenix rolls his eyes and steps through the ropes, apparently wanting to walk away with a victory rather than deal with the annoyance of The Original Villain. Kaiser Vashaun hops between the ropes for his squad, leaving the Universal and 5 Star Champions.

Richard: RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: Can someone please instruct stagehands not to give Richard a mega-phone?

Snow looks a little agitated upon seeing The Grin emerge from the opposing corner. He's always been able to get inside of Snow's head and holds a victory over him when most of the roster can't boast such a claim. Gamble dances around on his feet, his grin shining brighter than ever before at the prospect of humiliating The Champ again. Snow snakes his way forward and induces the collar and elbow tie up. When Gamble slips underneath and sticks Snow's arm behind his back in a hammerlock, Snow remembers the reasons that he isn't fond of The Grin. He's one of the most underrated technical gurus on the roster.

Richard: Gamble with the upper hand out of the gate.

And he shows his superiority in pure wrestling by ducking underneath the elbow, slipping back under and lifting Snow overhead in a Northern light suplex. He goes for a cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Snow shoots his shoulders up while Gamble flips over and keeps the arm isolated. Snow has to keep the fly on him for a few more moments. Gamble turns Snow onto his belly and hops on the back, paintbrushing The Original Villain across the back of the head multiple times before being shot off. Snow gives Gamble an eerie stare while Gamble dusts his hands off and continues bouncing, arrogant as ever in the presence of the Universal Champion.

Richard: I would normally say that nobody should ever treat Snow with this kind of disrespect, but...It's Tony Gamble!

Nick: For all his cockiness, Gamble can outwrestle Snow 10 out of 10 days.

Richard: But he's gotta outperform Snow and the people who can do that are far and few between.

Gamble extends his hands, looking for another lock up. Snow cautiously sticks his paw out to engage, knowing that an encounter like this doesn't rely solely upon strength. Their fingers slowly interlace, Gamble twisting the arm of Snow around while their right hands link together. Snow pulls his power back, but Gamble cracks another smile and slides between the legs, keeping hold of Snow's arms while leaping over the body and connecting on his Thru DDT. Gamble goes for a second cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOO-

Snow fires the shoulder out and scurries over to his corner, glaring up at The Eternal Flame and smacking his arm, allowing the number one contender to the 5 Star Title a chance to step in the ring against the Champ.

Gamble smirks, points at Phoenix, and looks back at Vashaun, "Watch me destroy this chump"

Strutting forward, arms extended like a kangaroo boxer, the confidence of The Grin is at an all time high. The Eternal Flame watches with fake astonishment at his opposition before simply walking up and lighting his shin up with a straight kick. Gamble hops around like a horror movie villain after getting bopped. Phoenix laces Gamble with another shin kick and finishes off the combination with a spinning back kick. Gamble stumbles into the ropes. Phoenix decides to give him a worthy rebound.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Super fantastic knife edge chop.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Another one.

Richard: TONY GAMBLE IS A NATIONAL TREASURE WHO SHOULDN'T BE TREATED LIKE THIS!

Phoenix leaps into the air and latches his legs across the head, flipping Gamble over in a hurricanrana. The Grin staggers over to the opposing corner, leaving Jason Snow the perfect opportunity to pound him with a forearm. Phoenix rushes ahead, leaping into the air, and drives both knees into Gamble's chest. The Grin slams back first into the turnbuckle. Snow shoves him forward into a monkey flip from Phoenix. The momentum carries him to the opposite corner. Kaiser Vashaun looks down at The Grin (although this time he has to look MAD low) and gives the 5 Star Champ a standing ovation.

Nick: Phoenix giving Gamble a bit of the business as well.

Richard: …

Nick: What?

Richard: Don't ever try to use a cool phrase in my presence again.

Gamble gets up, attempting to keep his inner G showing, dusts his shoulders off and steps out of the corner, spit flying from his mouth in a rage. He's ready to take Jay Phoenix on and give him the whooping he so richly deserves.

Richard: GO GET EM GAMBLE! SHOW EM WHO IS BOSS!

...Only he's going to make Kaiser Vashaun do it for him. Hot tag.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: Well, at least the crowd has something to cheer about now. Vashaun and Phoenix going to hook it up.

Vashaun steps between the ropes and locks eyes with The Eternal Flame. Neither man appears to hold any ill will toward the other, as evident by their handshake before their slugfest. Vashaun gets the first quality show in, followed by Phoenix who comes in with a two punch combination. Vashaun delivers an elbow and gets a boot to the midsection. Snow badmouths Phoenix, which is a form of encouragement in Snow Land, as he is getting whipped off the ropes. Phoenix comes back and is able to react after Vashaun drops his head, swinging his body around and landing a neckbreaker. He's able to get up a second before Vashaun and capitalizes on the opportunity, booting The Next In Line in the midsection and flipping him down with a Double Arm DDT.

Richard: Who knew Phoenix had enough talent to actually take someone in the midcard.

Nick: He made quite an impact at ReVolution 200, don't ever count Phoenix down.

Richard: Don't give me that gibberish, Stuart. What has he done lately? Absolutely squadush.

Phoenix steps through the ropes and springboards onto the top, landing an Electric Chair hurricanrana onto The Next in Line. Vashaun slides across the ring, gingerly rising to his feet against the ropes. Phoenix charges ahead and is able to land the Lights Out thrust kick that sends Vashaun over the ropes and onto the floor.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: Jay Phoenix is cooking on all cylinders.

Richard: Can he make me some hamburgers while he's at it?

Although, there is one thing The Eternal Flame didn't recognize during his offensive flurry.

Gamble springboards to the top himself, surges around in a spin move and connects on a jumping heel kick to the back of the head.

Richard: The ever popular blind tag.

Nick: Gamble smart enough to realize that his team needs to stay on top.

Snow facepalms on the apron. He figures that he's going to have to do all of the work himself, but of course Phoenix is going to want half the credit. Fucking diva. The Original Villain conjures up the possibility of trying to get the plebes behind Phoenix, but decides that he needs to conserve energy for when he has to clean house. He'll sit this one out. Gamble continues to pour the pressure on, picking Phoenix up by the long stringy hair and tossing him into the corner.

Richard: Now we are going to see the true wrestling genius of The Grin.

Phoenix defiantly bursts out of the corner, but he plays right into Gamble's hands, literally. The Grin locks his arms around the waist and slings Phoenix overhead in a belly to belly suplex. The momentum brings Phoenix halfway across the ring, but just out of reach from the Universal Champion. Gamble strolls across the mat and puts a boot into the forehead of The Eternal Flame. He walks over to Snow and jams two fingers into his face, dropping him to the canvas. The ever tempermental champion jumps over the ropes and has to be restrained by Elvis Nixon.

Nick: Someone is playing mind games with Jason Snow, who would have thunk it?

Richard: I love Tony Gamble.

The Grin pimp walks over toward Phoenix, lifts him from the canvas, drops to his knees, and sticks his right arm up. Phoenix doubles over in a heap while Gamble stirs, running off the ropes and landing a perfect front dropkick. Phoenix hits the deck while Gamble scrambles over for the cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Nick: Phoenix gets the shoulder out right before the three.

Richard: Such resistance from a man who loves to take a poun-

Nick: No, we are not going to have another company trying to sue us because of your ignorant slander.

Gamble huffs and puffs, staring up at Elvis Nixon as if to say "Why you gotta play me like that dawg, we know it was dree." The stern referee holds up the peace sign. Gamble sighs and rolls over to his corner, tagging Vashaun back into the match. The Next in Line looks at the groaning sight at his feet and hoists Phoenix from the canvas. He spins Phoenix around, back to belly, and locks his arms around the waist. Phoenix barely has time to register where he's at before getting launched backwards in a nasty release German suplex. His brains are scrambled and he's in jeopardy of losing the match. Cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

But Jason Snow isn't going to allow Phoenix to lose the match for his team, making the save by booting Vashaun in the back of the head. The Next in Line springs from the canvas and lunges at Snow on the apron, but The Original Villain hits the deck at the last possible second. Phoenix is using the distraction as a chance to recover, get some of the breathe that Gamble extracted from him on the low blow. Vashaun slides underneath the bottom rope and gives chase to Snow.

Richard: This is one contest we know Vashaun is not going to win.

The much faster and more athletic Jason Snow hops over the stairs and is out in front by a few lengths on Vashaun. It's true, the Next in Line is far more of a power personal than a sprinter, although he's going to give it everything he has to catch Snow. With all of the fun possibilities of having Snow on the outside, he'll take the chance.

Snow hops over a second set of stairs and smacks his face against the canvas.

Not from the stairs, but from the unwanted stool that ended up getting in his way.

Or as he is known on planet Earth, Tony Gamble.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: Well would you look at that, the little bugger actually gave his tag partner a hand.

Gamble stands up, thrusting his arms in the air proudly at the deed he just did. Vashaun pats him on the head and gives him the tag, pointing The Grin in the direction of Phoenix and ordering him to finish the match. Gamble dashes underneath the bottom rope and attacks like a Doberman while Vashaun looks down at Mr. Snake Eyes. He puts a boot into the forehead and drops down to choke the life out of Jason Snow.

Richard: This is going to be worse than having Santa Clause ruined for me if Jason Snow gets decimated right before my eyes!

Nick: Put a cork in it, knob, and focus on the match.

The Grin waits with eager anticipation as Phoenix rises from the canvas. He shoots off the ropes and looks to drill Phoenix into the canvas with a bulldog. The Eternal Flame has used the resource of time well, shoving Gamble off and making him straddle the top rope.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Richard: RIGHT ON HIS OOMPA LOOMPAS! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

On the floor, Kaiser Vashaun swings Jason Snow head first into the steel stairs, relishing in the sickening thud that resonates through the building.

Richard: MOMMYYYYYYYYYYYY!

Back in the ring, Gamble is done taking his horse ride and slumps, throat first against the second rope. The Eternal Flame dashes across the ring, hits the ropes hard, and swings back toward Gamble. His arms grasp the top and middle rope while his body swings around and slams into Gamble, feet against the forehead. Burn Out. Phoenix goes for the W.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Gamble gets his shoulder up just before the three. Phoenix takes a hold and dishes out soccer kicks to the chin and cheeks of The Grin. It's safe to say that he's not feeling fantastic at the moment. Phoenix doesn't relent, continuing to pound Gamble time after time.

Nick: The brutality of those kicks is second to none. Phoenix is extracting all of his revenge from 205 and 206.

Elsewhere, Kaiser Vashaun still has a vice grip on Jason Snow, booting him in the midsection and planting him head first on the ringside mats with a DDT.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: Sweet mother of pearl! Did you hear the impact of Snow's head crashing on the mats?

Richard: I don't think I can take much more of this.

Nick: Don't you dare bail on me, Parker. You are going to sit here and take this like a man.

Phoenix shoots Gamble into the ropes and rushes in, connecting on a leg lariat that topples Gamble. The Eternal Flame backs up toward the corner, stomps out, and connects on a jumping knee to the head. He rolls through and lands a somersault dropkick for good measure. Another cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Gamble pushes a foot onto the bottom rope and saves the match. Meanwhile, on the floor, The Next in Line has both his arms wrapped around the throat of Jason Snow. He is going for an overhead Choke Suplex on the table...

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

But Snow comes in and delivers the all important low blow. Vashaun collapses to the canvas with Snow a step behind.

Richard: RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: Really, that doesn't hurt me as much as it does you, people. Get the damn sound enhancing devices away.

Snow starts army crawling toward his corner, desperate to get back into the match. Vashaun clutches his boys and extends his arm out toward Snow, but barely misses obtaining hold of the leg. He grunts and moves in the direction of his corner.

Nick: I don't think we have seen the last of these two. Gamble and Phoenix have been in the ring for most of the time, and soon we are going to have to let these two hook it up.

Phoenix and Gamble are back to their feet with The Eternal Flame looking to lock up a Russian leg sweep, driving The Grin's head into the canvas. However, at the last minute, Gamble is able to get a roll through, and grabs the advantage. He boots Phoenix in the midsection, locks both arms behind his back, hoists the GTT6 finalist into the air, and drops him down in a Tiger Driver. Gamble goes for the quick pin.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Phoenix shoves Gamble off and we are almost back to Square 1 of the match.

Nick: The fans are growing restless. They want a preview of the Great American Nightmare Main Event. Career vs Championship on October 18th.

Richard: Yeah, yeah, we all know, it's going to be the open casket funeral of Kaiser Vashaun.

The Grin strains himself to get over toward The Next in Line and tag out. He's done far more in the match than a gangsta should. Phoenix, even though it pains him, is going to tag Snow and get bailed out. The Original Villain is aching to get into the contest, considering he was embarrassed in the short involvement earlier.

Nick: Who is going to get to their corner first?

Richard: It doesn't matter. We all know it's going to be an explosion once they both get in the ring.

Gamble has to stretch a little further than Phoenix in order to get the tag. Snow feels flesh on flesh first, but Vashaun doesn't leave the party without something.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: HERE WE GO! VASHAUN AND SNOW!

Richard: Foregone conclusion. Snow is going to wipe the floor with him.

The two mammoth forces fly into the ring and start trading right hands with one another. Vashaun gets the first shot. Snow follows up with a big counter. Vashaun. Snow. Vashaun. Snow. Vashaun. Snow. Vashaun. Snow. Vashaun. Snow. Vashaun. Snow. Vashaun. Snow. Vashaun. Snow. Vashaun. Snow. Vashaun. Snow.

Nick: They aren't going down!

Richard: The battle for supremacy, baby!

Snow is able to break up the fisticuffs with a boot to the midsection. Vashaun bites hard, doubling over. Snow grabs a hold of the arm, twists around, and plants Vashaun into the canvas with an STO. Gamble looks to sneak into the ring, but backpedals when Snow gives him an evil and sardonic glare. Vashaun picks himself up and receives a spinning heel kick from the Universal Champion. Snow marches forward, lifting Vashaun onto his shoulders and dropping him backwards in a Samoan drop. The Original Villain fluently transitions into a more high flying arsenal, running off the ropes, hoping onto the middle, and backflipping onto The Next in Line. Cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Vashaun powers out before the three. Snow jumps to his feet and barks at Elvis Nixon to count faster. The hippie corrupt referee can only feign apology and say he'll do better next time. Snow scoffs and focuses his attention back on Vashaun. He picks up The Next in Line and locks his arms around the waist, slinging him over in a Saito suplex.

Nick: Snow implementing a little of Vashaun's offense right here.

Richard: Adding insult to the collection of injuries he's already received.

Snow rolls through and quickly bounces to a vertical base. He shoots off the ropes and lands a crucial leg drop across the throat. After giving Vashaun some heartfelt appreciation, he rushes to the other side and leaps into the air, getting some hang time before dropping his second leg. He looks down at Vashaun and then out to the crowd, demeaning them for respecting such an inferior wrestler. The Next in Line clutches his throat while Snow hits the ropes a third time, but is impeded by a disturbance.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: Tony Gamble!

Snow flips backwards onto the floor and smacks his head against the announce table. Gamble gives the old Spy vs Spy snicker and points over to Phoenix, mouthing "That'll be you in three weeks, punk."

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: I don't think Phoenix appreciated that too much! He's coming after The Grin!

Proving that he does have prowess as a runner, Gamble jumps from the apron and books it around the ring, almost a full side of the ring ahead of Jay Phoenix at all times.

Richard: How are you going to catch someone who is smarter than the average wrestler?

Nick: You did not just rip a Yogi Bear reference on Gamble.

Richard: Dude, I so did, and it was totally worth it.

Nick: You disgust me.

On the floor, Jason Snow slams his hands against the table, startling Richard Parker. Kaiser Vashaun stands in the ring and mulls what to do next. An idea pops into his head, but he doesn't know if he has the spring in his step to pull this off. Meanwhile, Jay Phoenix is closing the gap on Tony Gamble, who rushes by Snow, Phoenix barely missing grabbing a hold of his shoulder. Vashaun observes the two rivals bolting around the ring and times the move perfectly. The Next in Line darts off the ropes and lumbers ahead, diving through the ropes so that he takes all three competitors out with a suicide dive. Vashaun takes out the three competitors and falls over into the lap of Richard Parker, who tries to move The Next in Line like he's an unattractive drunk woman grinding on his junk.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: KAISERVASHAUNHIGHRISKOHHHHHHHHHHHMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYGODDDDDDDDDD!

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

Nick: THAT WAS AWESOME! How you feeling down there, Richard?

Richard: (clutching his stomach in pain) Not...talking...to...you...

Nick: DANGEROUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

The Next in Line storms from the concrete and, in a rare moment of celebration, throws his arms high in the air and milks the reaction from the Calgary crowd. Snow feels like he just got hit by a truck while Gamble and Phoenix are counting sheep and staring into the lights.

Nick: That is one of the first time I've ever seen Kaiser Vashaun go airborne for the sake of a match.

Richard: Ughh, someone get me a medic.

Vashaun explodes from behind the announce table and grabs Snow by the hair, throwing him between the ropes and hopping into the ring himself. He looks out at the crowd and gets a positive reaction, they want Snow to feel the Weight of the World.

Nick: Snow might have a concussion so Vashaun should be able to get this without much resistance.

Richard: Snow is never going to allow Vashaun the chance to get a victory over him! Never!

Vashaun hoists Snow from the canvas, but gets an unexpected jawbreaker from the champ. Snow uses the opportunity to scramble up to a vertical base and go on the attack. He leaps forward and wraps his arms around Vashaun's upper body, swinging into a flawless Tornado DDT.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

On the outside, Tony Gamble has gained the upper hand on Jay Phoenix long enough to sneak into the ring behind The Original Villain and crack his permascar grin. When Snow goes to set up the Snake Eyes, he meets Gamble, who slams his head into the canvas with a Stop Laughing At Me!

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHBOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: STOP LAUGHING AT ME! THIS PUT DOWN HESSIAN! GAMBLE GOING FOR IT!

Richard: HE'S NOT LEGAL! OH MY GOD HE'S GONNA BEAT SNOW!

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Nick: ELVIS DOESN'T KNOW HE'S NOT LEGAL!

Richard: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOO!

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Nick: JAY PHOENIX WITH THE SAVE!

Richard: OHMYGODTHANKYOU...I MEAN...DIE PLEBE!

Jay Phoenix takes a hold of Tony Gamble and Kaiser Vashaun, grabs an arm on each of them, swings around, ducks under, comes back through and lands simultaneous short arm clotheslines. They both stagger into the corner, smack heads and come out to the center of the ring. Phoenix delivers a roundhouse kick to Gamble. One to Vashaun. Another to Gamble's midsection. Another to Vashaun's midsection. Phoenix then shows his pimp martial arts skills, leaping into the air and landing a roundhouse kick on Vashaun that carries over to Gamble. Both competitors stumble and start their descent to the canvas. Phoenix charges up the ropes and goes for a double shooting star press, putting the match on a silver platter for Snow by sacrificing himself.

Gamble falls through the ropes at the last second, landing on the apron and escaping the From the Ashes.

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Nick: FROM THE ASHES ON KAISER VASHAUN!

Vashaun on the other hand did not.

Phoenix goes for the cover.

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-

Springboard leg drop from The Grin.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Nick: DAMN GAMBLE!

Richard: He's just showing quality teamwork.

Nick: Bullcrap.

Gamble rushes off the ropes and manages to catch Phoenix as he is rising, wrapping his arms around the head and slamming him into the canvas with a Stop Laughing at Me!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Richard: WRAP THIS UP! GAMBLE WITH THE DUBY-

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

He forgot about the elephant in the room. Jason Snow.

Nick: SNAKE EYES BY JASON SNOW! HE COVERS GAMBLE!

ONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

DING! DING! DING!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Vince Howard: Your winners of the match...JAY PHOENIX AND JASONNNNNNNNNN SNOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Nick: Well, folks, there you have it. Jason Snow with the well placed Snake Eyes and he has finally gotten his revenge against Tony Gamble.

Richard: I think Gamble is going to say that his back spasmed.

Nick: Or that his head was taken off.

Richard: Either way, Snow stands supreme at the end of another ReVolution. What else is to be expected there?

The Original Villain mouths something to Vashaun and storms away from the ring area, not wanting to be in the ring with those inferior to him for another second. He backpedals up the ramp, pointing to his Universal Championship and holding it high over his head. This is the pinnacle. This is the standard.

This is what could end Kaiser Vashaun's career at Great American Nightmare.

Nick: Folks, we are out of time. For Richard Parker, I'm Nick Stuart, and that was ReVolution 207!

The weary eyes of Vashaun stare up at the arrogant Jason Snow, Championship held over his head with pride.

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