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(To Dusk on Shakur) "I'm WELL the fuck aware pal...I'm also well the fuck aware that I've BEAT that long haired fuckin' cunt a couple times before. I'm WELL the fuck aware've who he's spendin' time with, and I'm sure as fuckin' SHIT aware of what their god damn faces'll look like when the fuckin' time comes. So 'ere's a question fer you: what's yer FUCKIN' point? - ReVolution 147

Wade Elliott

Colossus VII

29 Aug 2010 / Qualcomm Stadium, San Diego, California (seats 71,294)

PPV Opener

A solid black backdrop with a steel chair being the sole object in frame. Matthew Ward emerges from darkness behind the chair and sits down.

Ward: You want a fancy entrance video?

Elise Ares: Something with a catchy song from current day that'll make you sing along and bob your head?

Nitz Donnelly: A well choreographed display of past highlights indicating just how important tonight really is?

Tyler Rayne: Where the fuck do you think you are, kid?

Skylar Montgomery: We don't do shit like that anymore.

Hessian: We don't need to do shit like that anymore.

Chainz: You want to know why?

Boda: Because this is Colossus.

The First: THIS is our biggest night of the year.

Tony Gamble: The biggest night in professional wrestling... period.

Devin Shakur: Competition?

Ward: There IS no competition. Not tonight.

Lindsay Troy: The only competition I'm worried about... is the person standing across from me inside that squared circle.

Castor V. Strife: All eyes are on us.

Vangelus Olsig: Every pair. Because they know.

Strife: They know who we are.

Troy: They know how great we are.

Donnelly: And they know what we'll do on this stage.

Matt Ward: I've been there. I've seen people come and go.

Tony Gamble: For years and years, and they still know there's nothing like Colossus.

Hessian: Nothing can prepare you for the spectacle.

Boda: And you'll never forget it.

Chainz: You CAN'T forget it.

Montgomery: It's impossible to.

Ares: Tonight, you see things you never thought you'd see.

First: In this, or any, lifetime.

Shakur: Tonight is when lives change.

Ward: When careers are made.

Rayne: Where careers can be broken.

Olsig: Where dreams become reality.

Ward: Tonight, I take another step in a storied career.

Ares: I make an impact unlike anybody before me.

Donnelly: I silence all my critics.

Rayne: I show one and all how violent I really am.

Montgomery: I show everybody I'm not just a funny name.

Hessian: I show my true nature.

Chainz: I emerge from darkness hanging over me.

Boda: I resurrect a forgotten greatness.

First: I take the first of many steps.

Shakur: I prove I am the greatest.

Gamble: I prove I'm not a joke.

Troy: I prove people should still fear my name.

Strife: I cement my name in history.

Olsig: I make a legacy last a lifetime.

Ward: I become an all time great.

Ares: I let all spotlights shine on me because I earn them.

Donnelly: I defy gravity time and time again.

Rayne: I drop jaws and then break them.

Montgomery: I shock the world.

Hessian: I rid our world of a cancer.

Chainz: I restore my life and take another.

Boda: I prove I'm a Bastard.

First: I prove my legitimacy.

Gamble: I bring down an empire.

Shakur: I become immortal.

Troy: I make those closest to me pay.

Strife: I rise to astronomical heights.

Olsig: I become unstoppable.

Shakur: Nobody needs to show you our highlights.

Ward: Nobody needs to tell enthralling stories of what we once did.

Troy: Because you are going to see it all. Again.

Gamble: In even greater fashion.

Strife: Right before your very eyes.

Olsig: Tonight...

Rayne: In our ring.

Donnelly: In PRIME's ring.

All: At Colossus VII.

Opening Commentary

An overhead shot of Qualcomm Stadium and 75,000 fans who have packed it is shown. A wall of fireworks goes off around the inner-lip of the stadium, while pyrotechnics also explode on the main stage and from all four ring posts.

A fading away shot from the main stage shows modifications from how the San Diego Chargers use this field. The player's entrance has been replaced by a long black curtain which is being used as a row for technicians. A goal post is now gone to make way for the PRIME*View and an expanded stage on both sides, mostly for pyrotechnics and outlandish entrances. The aisleway goes out to about the 40 yard line, with the ring itself being on the 50. Both visitor and home player sections of grass have been replaced by a lower level for fans. The opposing goal post and 40 yards past ringside is also being used for fans. The scoreboard serves as a giant screen for fans to view.

Overhead cameras descend upon waves and waves of fans cramming every seat with signs, beer, and popcorn. They are ready for a night which could change PRIME forever. Even though fans in upper sections aren't going to get much airtime, when a camera pans in their direction, they are milking it for all possible worth. Perhaps Tyler Rayne will pop down from their section later on, or a brawl will break out and they can get more time.

Those in lower sections get their signs placed on Pay-Per-View for all to see.

"I drove here from Hawaii"
"Hessian should play QB for the Vikings"
"I was offered 20k to come and sit here by Lane Kiffin."
"I am Bill Plaschke and I [MUTE]"

Tony Reali, famed Around the Horn host, holds up that sign for all to see.

Scanning around ringside there is a bit more length and longer ringside mats for wrestlers to use. Peeking out from underneath the ring's west side is a steel cage piece which will be used later when Gamble and Shakur lock horns.

A camera switch focuses specifically on Richard Parker and Nick Stuart. They have been doing this way too long but still get goosebumps when tonight rolls around on PRIME's calendar. Richard isn't goofing around like he usually does before going live, while Nick is looking suave and debonair as always. Both men stare into their camera and wait for celebrity technician Terry Tate (because he only takes a vacation every 1,000 days) gives them their cue.

3... 2... 1... Go

Nick: Welcome everybody to the seventh installment of Colossus!

Richard: Tonight is here, baby! Check us out. Another sellout. Another great show. Another stacked fucking card. Boy, tonight is going to be sweet.

Nick: Indeed it is, Richard. We're going to have some of the most personal grudges settled and all three championships -

Richard: Four, we have four championships, Nick.

Nick: What is the fourth?

Richard: Duh, the SWAGGER Championship.

Nick: That's not a real belt and we both know it.

Richard: I'm a firm supporter of creating championships for one's own betterment. Did you dispute God's Championship when Hoyt Williams gave himself it?

Nick: Yes.

Richard: Blasphemy.

Nick: Anyway, we've got eight matches slated for this evening and all of them have the chance to steal the show.

Richard: And I'm going to get to see all my fantasy come to life.

Nick: We've had an immense amount of run down, a lot of in-depth analysis done, and each individual superstar at Colossus spotlighted, so we don't need much more preview of what is to come.

Richard: As that entrance video said, everybody knows. We've got all eyes on us tonight, Nick. So I've got to be at my most perverted and sadistic.

Nick: Sure you won't come up on the short end of the stick there.

Richard: Damn right I won't.

Nick: We'll give a brief rundown. Emphasis on brief because we're up against a clock and Shakur wants Dakari/Ward to happen very shortly.

Richard: The man has enough to worry about this evening, and he's also running things. He's a saint.

Nick: Matthew Ward and Anat[finish name] Dakari will face off in our opener. A semifinal match in the PTC Elite Tournament Dirty Dozen tournament.

Richard: Shakur stole my pick. Dakari has no chance.

Nick: I'm taking Lisa Tyler's stance and saying we are going to have a close battle.

Richard: She also said Ward would win.

Nick: I'm reserving judgment because I'm not biased like the rest of you.

Richard: You've got an opinion. You just don't want to be wrong. Trust me, it's fine if you are.

Nick: Our second match will be for... because I don't want to endure Richard's ire again... A Championship.

Richard: Damn right. SWAGGER!

Nick: Elise Ares Vs Nitz Donnelly. You have to know the card is stacked if this match is coming out second.

Richard: I would have put Rayne a few pegs down if I was Shakur, but I'm not. We'll dispute schematics once this is all said and done.

Nick: I wonder how much involvement will be had from both Raymes and Leticia in that one. Regardless, it should be a classic.

Richard: I want my inner Eric Bischoff channeled for this one.

Nick: You are going to admit you actually do run TNA and have driven it into the ground?

Richard: No, some HLA.

Nick: Definitely aren't coming up short on perversion.

Richard: It'll only get worse as the night progresses.

Nick: Third on the slate is Tyler Rayne Vs Skylar Montgomery. I'm going to have to agree with the wave and say Rayne is coming out on top here.

Richard: Dude, I can't believe everybody is picking against avant-garde. Montgomery is going to save his biggest bomb for tonight, I can feel it.

Nick: Be that as it may, but if Shakur and Daniels both pick against Montgomery then odds aren't in his favor.

Richard: They even said they HOPE Rayne fires him. What the fuck?

Nick: Something could be boiling there. We might need to keep our eyes open for it.

Richard: We need Montgomery. He brings out all those geeks and nerds. We need that demographic.

Nick: I wonder if we're going to need the demographics who are tuning in for match 4 tonight, Hessian squaring off against Chainz.

Richard: The sickos and weirdos make up a lot of our demographic. Yeah, we definitely need them.

Nick: I saw a glimpse of Tracy earlier this evening and she is not happy to say the least.

Richard: You wouldn't be either if you had to go home with either of those guys.

Nick: What happened to heel allegiance?

Richard: I'm going outside the box on this one. Both of those guys naked have to be creepy.

Nick: I'm taking the high road and not dignifying your comment there with a response.

Richard: You just did.

Nick: I meant one related to … nevermind.

Richard: Now I'm winning argumentatively also. Come on Nick, I'm in top form tonight.

Nick: Our first official championship match comes up with Boda taking on The First.

Richard: You have got to get over hatred of Ares. It's like you've become the male Lisa Tyler.

Nick: Again, not going there. The First could get a big opportunity tonight if he's able to capture this belt.

Richard: He won't.

Nick: Castor might not appreciate you disrespecting one of his followers.

Richard: Castor knows what I feel. We've had some discussions. I'm going to be in an upcoming project.

Nick: You are?

Richard: I'll be the fat guy who watches everybody have sex.

Richard sighs. Nick smacks him in the back of the head Gibbs style.

Nick: Devin Shakur and Tony Gamble in a steel cage. I'm not going to even bother asking you your stance on that.

Richard: Because we know what everybody else already knows. Shakur is coming out on top. He's got too much in his favor.

Nick: I'm hoping for the sake of PRIME that Gamble comes out on top. Shakur is so far up a pole with power it's ridiculous.

Richard: He isn't far enough up to hear you making those comments. I'm sure he'll dock your pay.

Nick: I don't really care. The match I'm very anxious to see, Matthew Ward taking on Lindsay Troy.

Richard: I'm chomping at the bit for this one. The destruction of Lindsay Troy once and for all by Matt Ward.

Nick: This will be the first time, since winning their championships, two people who are in the 2 Time Universal Club are going to be squaring off.

Richard: It will also be their first time fighting. Ward is going to stomp her. I'm ready to mark out.

Nick: And I'm also ready to mark out for our Main Event: Olsig Vs Strife in a no disqualification match.

Richard: We are going to have a new Universal Champion by night's end. Bank on it.

Nick: Really now?

Richard: Yes, I'm contractually obligated to say that.

Nick: We're also going to have a Hall of Fame induction this evening. The one and only Jason Snow will join an elite cast in PRIME's Hall.

Richard: SNOW IS HERE?

Nick: If he is, he's being well hidden. I haven't seen hide or hair of him all day. Shakur probably wouldn't want to reveal if he was here anyway.

Richard: Oh man, if he is here then this night is going to be even more awesome.

Nick: Indeed it will, but we've got a hell of a lineup as is, and we're going to kick it off right now.

Camera Switch: Vince Howard

Matt Ward vs. Anathkash Dakari

Vince Howard: Ladies and gentleman, WELCOME to Colossus VII...


Vince Howard: ...where our opening contest tonight, scheduled for ONE FALL... Is for the Elite Championship Tournament!


Nick: Our first duel on what promises to be a monumental night is a contest featuring two high-level competitors. One is slated to compete later on in the evening, and the other is an outsider looking to upstage him at PRIME's Super Bowl, here in beautiful San Diego!

Richard: Fat chance of any upstaging here Nick. Even Shakur himself said Ward is the most valuable player of our Colossus arc. Nobody can deny he's got all momentum in his favor.

Nick: Be that as it may, his opposition doesn't know much about that. And if he does, then he's not letting it get to him. Anathkash Dakari is representing JUST-

Richard: -I thought they died in a plane crash, or were put down behind the barn after a year or so…

Nick: It's not good manners to ridicule the competition, Rich. We’re just starting out here tonight; can we keep things on an even keel please?

Richard: They are lucky I don't give away spoilers to their shows on here.

Nick: Uhhh… How would you have access to GCW or SCCW spoilers, exactly?

Richard: ... Look, never question how I get things, just know I could tell you what happens on their shows.

Nick: Well that’s nice, Richard. Dakari comes into this match as something of an unknown entity to us here in PRIME, but he was able to knock off the number one ranked RJ Stone from WWA on his home turf… so Tchu should underestimate him at his peril.

Richard: …And it is supposed to garner him some kind of prize? Look, kid is probably a nice guy and all, but he is going against a total legend of PRIME. A man who is hitting his fourth wind or so and still going strong with the best of them. He's going to off Lindsay Troy later tonight and advance in this tournament. He's also a Champion, and done everything there is to do in this game. He's Matt Fucking Ward.

Nick: I'm saying Dakari should at least be given a benefit of the doubt. He's an underdog, yes, but not all underdogs lose… the guy has pedigree.

Richard: This underdog is going to lose, Nick, make no mistake about it. And who cares if he beat some idiot from WWA. They are... wait, I can't even name two people on the roster over there. That's how relevant they are.

Nick: Going all over the place tonight aren't you?

Richard: We have to get through this opening montage somehow, it’s barely two minutes in and I’ve already got you on my back, carrying the announce team as usual.

Nick: Of course. Anywho, folks, Richard has already highlighted Ward's accolades within PRIME, but in this external Elite Title Tournament, he has shown an ability to hang with greats and might be able to add PTC Elite Champion to his resume… after already owning a PTC Infinite Gauntlet and Unified Title run!

Richard: …Proving he is one of the best of all time, hands down, and we have him. In PRIME. Exclusively. Suck that, bitches.

Nick: I can’t deny Ward is certainly one of, if not the, greatest we have ever seen here. Dakari will be in for one heck of a fight… but so will Ward as we look to start Colossus up with a red-hot opener.

"These Walls" by Dream Theater erupts from the loudspeakers, heralding the arrival into the Qualcomm Stadium of Anathkash Dakari for his first ever taste of live PRIME action. The fans respond with an appreciative roar, excited to see Colossus VII get underway…


Richard: Where’s a name like that from anyway Nick? "Anathkash"? Some kind of Asian?

Nick: It sounds Indian to me… maybe Vince Howard knows…

Right on time, Howard presses the microphone to his lips and begins the introduction…

Vince Howard: Introducing first, from parts unknown…

Richard: Typical.

Vince Howard: …weighing in at one-hundred-seventy-five pounds… representing JUST Wrestling… ANATHKASSSSSSSHHHHHH DAKKKKKKKKKKARRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIII!

The crowd continues to applaud as Dakari steps out from behind the curtain, not acknowledging anyone. He slowly walks down the ramp, nodding his head a little bit as he goes...

Richard: Which of the Asian nations is famous for being totally friggin’ ignorant? I mean I’m no fan of these idiots that pay money to come and watch our shows, but they are cheering this nobody and he’s refusing to even look at them!

Nick: Dakari does have a reputation of being super-determined and focused; he is coming out on here thinking about one thing and one thing only: beating Matt Ward and progressing through to the next round of the Elite Championship Tournament.

The JUST performer eventually reaches the ring after a long walk from the stage and slides in under the bottom rope. He gets to his feet and casually leans against his corner as Max Newell approaches him to conduct pre-match checks.

Richard: Nick, I’m not sure if this guy knows where he is and what he’s up against. He seems way too relaxed for someone about to get their head pummeled by one of the greatest of all time...

Nick: As I said in the build-up Rich, this guy has beaten big names; he has a strong martial arts background and can handle himself. He’s young and inexperienced, but he also comes without fear – which is plain to see by the way in which he has entered this match. First out on a night as big as this and he is soaking it all up... He looks ready to go to me.

Dakari tests out the PRIME ring a little by bouncing back into the ropes and pulling steadily on the top rope to check the tension, awaiting the arrival of "The Inhuman Being" as Dream Theater steadily fade out to silence…

Richard: Let’s see Ward show him how it’s done…

On cue, the Qualcomm Stadium is engulfed in darkness as "I Fucking Hate You" by Godsmack roars through the night air…


Nick: Ouch! The reaction that Matt Ward no doubt "expects" from this red-hot San Diego crowd. A lot of these people will have paid the ticket money to tell the "Inhuman Being" exactly what they think of him.

Richard: At least there isn’t much garbage for them to throw yet. These fat asses will probably have truckloads of nacho boxes, popcorn boxes, coke cups and bottles by the time he comes out again later on. Literally truckloads.

The Tchu-blue lights flash on and off, as Ward marches purposefully out on the stage, his gaze focused completely on the ring ahead of him.


Nick: The San Diego crowd not letting up at all! I haven’t heard a reaction like this for Matt Ward before, never before. How different this is to the other times we have seen him at Colossus. At Colossus III he got one of the loudest positive reactions I have ever, ever heard!

Richard: The fickle nature of the wrestling fan exposed again, huh?

Nick: If I was one of these people I would be doing exactly the same. This man stabbed Lindsay Troy in the back and had the gall to say it was all her fault!

The usual methodical, determined steps that have been Ward’s trademark are the same as always. The difference in reaction not being allowed to affect his approach to the match.

Richard: Matt Ward means business tonight Nick, look at that expression. A complete picture of focus and determination with one goal in sight. Beat this idiot quickly and prepare for Troy later on…

Nick: It’s the same old "Inhuman Being", that’s for sure. It’s just the reaction that is the polar opposite to normal…




Ward reaches the steps, glides up them, and assumes his usual position on the middle turnbuckle, staring out into the sea of PRIMEates before him with a look of pure disdain. Rather than raise his arms in the usual "T" motion, though, he skips the step and moves straight to an animalistic "roar" as Godsmack fades away and stadium lighting returns to normal…


Nick: Further shedding of the "Tchu" moniker there folks, though I have to apologize if I refer to him as such tonight…

Richard: What did I tell you, huh Nick? That’s how you make an entrance… not that these buttheads in the crowd showed any appreciation whatsoever. I dunno why they don’t just go and follow WWA or GCW. We don’t need ‘em.

Nick: Uhhh… that was more or less the same thing he always does.

Richard: He’s obviously saving the big one for his match later on, duhhh… it was still pretty epic though!

Dakari remains relaxed in the corner of the ring, progressively measuring his opponent up and down, searching for weak points. Ward, on the other hand, is giving Max Newell a hard time over the pre-match checks of his ring boots and wrist tape, before handing over his Intense Championship to a stagehand on the floor.

Richard: What is that zebra even doing? Has he not refereed enough Matt Ward matches to know that he’s a stand-up guy?

Nick: Everyone gets checked Rich; it’s just the way things are done. I think you and Ward himself are the only two people in this stadium who think he’s still a "stand-up guy" after what he pulled a couple of weeks back…


"The Inhuman Being" shakes himself out a little, loosening his neck and hands, while Dakari raises his arms up into guard position and swiftly presses forwards towards him. Max Newell motions the two together and backs away as a gurgle of anticipation swells up into the warm night sky of San Diego…

Nick: This Elite Championship Tournament match is underway! Remember folks, the Intense Championship is not on the line in this one, but it will be on the line later on tonight as he faces Lindsay Troy, his former friend, one-on-one…

Richard: The start of a great night for Matt Ward is underway! He beats this little punk in a minute or two, goes backstage, cleans himself up and then heads on out here again to wipe the floor with Troy. Finally he will have his revenge for the way she destroyed their friendship.

Nick: You’ve gotta be kidding me…


The announcer disagreement over the merits of Troy and M"F"W’s friendship breakdown is swiftly cut-off as Dakari fires two lightning-fast karate front kicks to Ward’s rib cage. "The Inhuman Being" swats the second away and pushes Dakari backwards, tumbling the much smaller competitor into an impressive backwards roll that delights the crowd, and Nick Stuart.

Nick: Amazing agility from Dakari! Those kicks struck like a knife into Tchu’s ribs and the Hall of Famer responds with a vicious shove on a guy who is giving up around seventy-five pounds to the "Inhuman Being".

Not fazed by the brute strength of the Intense Champion, Dakari retains his guard position and again moves forward onto his target, who ducks and weaves, looking for the counter-strike opportunity. A couple of stiff chops to the clavicle land flush, causing Ward to back off towards the ropes and shake out his head, evidently frustrated.

Richard: Is this guy on speed? I can barely keep up with how fast his legs and arms are moving.

Nick: Matt Ward looks a little surprised by the quickness of his opponent here, it’s not too often in PRIME where he will have been up against somebody so small and unique and who we all know so little about.




Nick: That’s fast becoming the soundtrack to his life in PRIME recently too…


The Hall of Famer snarls around at the crowd, whose chants seem to do nothing more than fire-up the "Inhuman Being" as he lunges forward with two lightning-quick strikes of his own, courtesy of his right fist. Dakari jars backwards and covers up, managing to slip the third attempt and reply with two big elbow strikes to the left side of Ward’s temple, before ducking under his grasp and dropping him down to one knee with a sharp toe-kick to the back of his right knee.

Nick: Dakari has the Intense Champion prone here and needs to follow up on this impressive start…

More snap kicks are fired off from the JUST performer, landing flush on target into the back of Ward’s left knee this time. "The Inhuman Being" battles valiantly but reluctantly is forced down to both knees, while quick as a whip his opponent is now facing him front-on and raining down with a flurry of left and right elbows.

Nick: The Intense Champion cannot cope with this speed from-



Ward plants Dakari down into the canvas, although not with the exceptional force of his usual maneuver due to his disadvantaged starting position. The move silences the excited San Diegan crowd for a moment, before they are brought right back to life as Ward goes to follow-up and is met with a small-package attempt!




Nick: Tchu surprised by the speed of Dakari again, but the little firecracker can’t even hold the "Inhuman Being" down for a two-count!

Richard: It’s going to take a lot more than some snazzy kicks and chops and a small package to put Matt Fucking Ward away!

Nick: The spinebuster that is usually so devastating was rendered fairly futile by Ward’s kneeling position and the freshness of his opponent. Dakari has to be wary though, if the "Inhuman Being" is able to catch him with the real deal then he may have a much harder time getting back into the match.

Both men roll away from each other and are quickly back up to a vertical base, Dakari undoubtedly impressing PRIMEates with his start, who are delighting in seeing Matt Ward struggle against a relative unknown. The PRIME*View shows a replay of the Intense Champion’s first significant move of the match as we are sent into a double-feature:

Nick: I think Ward is just guilty of taking things too easy in the early-going here. I’m not sure whether he’s trying to regulate his output with such a huge second match to come later in the night, but he is gonna have to expend a lot more energy out there to put Dakari away if what we have seen so far is any indication.

Richard: Not many men could have two matches of such importance at Colossus - Matt Ward isn’t "many men" though. He’s out of everybody else’s league.

The match official motions for the two men to lock-up, and in traditional wrestling style they do, with Matt Ward easily getting the better of his lighter opponent and powering him back into the corner. He keeps a tight grip on Dakari, wary of any super-fast strikes coming in after releasing the hold, causing Max Newell to get in between the two of them and force a clean break.

Nick: It looks to me like Ward has recognized where the danger is going to come from and he seems to be doing his very best to nullify any chance Dakari has of shooting-off some more martial arts strikes at him.

Dakari remains silent, apparently happy to see Newell release him from the corner... but has to think fast again as Ward charges towards him with a clothesline attempt. Again Dakari is able to evade it and rounds on the Intense Champion with a spinning Pele kick.


Nick: Pele kick from Dakari to the back of Tchu’s head and the "Inhuman Being" is sent sprawling into the turnbuckle!! Let’s see this again folks.


The magic of slow motion comes into play on our instant replay, showing Dakari see Ward’s impending attack, ducking majestically underneath his right arm, and spinning overhead in one fluid movement to land the Pele kick. The PRIME Hall of Famer is sent face-first into the top-turnbuckle and as we return to the action, Dakari is set for a run-up…

Nick: Dakari following up!


Nick: Ward is the one to evade the attack this time and he drops Dakari face-first into that second turnbuckle with a perfectly executed reverse Russian leg sweep!

Richard: As fast as this guy may be, he doesn’t come close to having the ring smarts of our Hall of Famer. You can have all of the physical speed in the world but not many can think as quickly as Ward can.

Nick: I can’t disagree with you there Rich, though I would dearly love to. Not sure what he did to Troy was the smartest thing I have ever seen, though… but we’ll find out more on that later tonight.

Undoubtedly sick of being embarrassed on his home turf by a relative unknown, the "Inhuman Being" seems to indicate that playtime is over by wagging his finger towards the camera-side of the Qualcomm Stadium and laying into Dakari with some huge, vicious right boots. The JUST superstar covers up as best he can in the corner while Max Newell tries to interject, but the Intense Champion shoves him off and continues sticking the boots in.


Nick: For the first time, the PRIMEate appears to be taking control against this lightweight opponent… Dakari is trying to cover up his head as best he can but those stinging right boots are just going down to the mid-section and driving the air out of his lungs.

Richard: Playtime is o-v-e-r Nick, there’s no way back from here for this guy.

Sufficiently pleased by Dakari’s current incapacity thanks to his right foot, Ward looks down with a grin and drags him up to his feet, holding him at arm’s length as though to display him to the baying PRIMEates, before slapping him mercilessly across the face.


Nick: A degrading slap to the chops by the "Inhuman Being" – a sign of total disrespect for his opponent!

Richard: Man oh man I love Matt Ward... no homo!

Back down on the canvas, Dakari grips at Ward’s feet, trying to find some method of attack within his extensive martial arts schooling, but is soon cut off at the pass as the Intense Champion drives a sickening elbow into the back of his neck. Dakari’s body thumps down onto the mat, eliciting groans from the capacity crowd, who are unhappy with the increasingly confident Hall of Famer.


Richard: Whoa! Someone get me a HUGE bar of soap for these classless fools! …We’re just taking it through the motions now folks, Ward can win this one without wasting too much energy and will leave himself plenty in the tank to dispose of Troy later on in the night…

Nick: Dakari isn’t out of this one just yet Rich, it’s not his first time around the Ferris wheel…

Richard: -wha’?

With his opponent exactly where he wants him, Matt Ward looks more pleased than he has at any point in the night. He drops down to a knee beside Dakari and lazily drapes an arm across his chest, hooking two legs with the other…





Scowling at predictable excitement generated by Dakari’s kick-out, the "Inhuman Being" drives more thunderous elbows into Dakari's temple, temporarily breaking through the well-trained guard. Changing his focus of attack and seeing the mid-section again exposed, Ward leverages himself off Dakari’s body, driving into the air and thumping down with some sharp knees into the ribcage of the JUST superstar.

Richard: Ohhh! A few more of those and we might get to see what Dakari had for his pre-match meal!

Nick: Ugh! Get out of here! Another cover from Ward!




Nick: Not even close yet again, think this is just a further sign of Ward taking his opponent’s determination for granted here.

Richard: We don’t even know where this guy comes from, what day he was born… yet you’re quite happy to repeatedly state that he is SUCH a determined individual. How could you possibly know?

Nick: Well if that was me, I’d have taken the fall the first time around…

Richard: Touché sir, touché.

With Dakari refusing to yield, the artist formerly known as "Tchu" seems to agree with Nick Stuart that his current plan isn’t going to be enough to progress to the next round of the Elite Championship Tournament. He rolls out of the clinch, dragging Dakari up to his feet along with him. The plucky youngster attempts to fire off a couple more elbows and chops, but Ward sees them coming and slaps them away….

Nick: Ohhh! DDT BY TCHU! He just DRILLED Dakari into the canvas!

Richard: That a little bit more like what you were looking for Nick? Game over.






Nick: And again with the xenophobia…

Matt Ward, fully aware now of the pluck of Dakari, simply shrugs his shoulders, fires an aggressive glare towards Max Newell for a perceived "slow" count and then stands to his feet again swiftly, again dragging the dazed Dakari up with him.

Nick: Irish whip from the "Inhuman Being"…

Richard: …oh man I love this one…


Nick: Tilt-a-whirl backbreaker from Ward! He drops down into yet another cover… TWO AGAIN!

Richard: This Dakari, coming into our promotion, taking all our jobs… if he knows what’s good for him he’ll stay down and let Matt Ward progress. It’s only gonna get worse from him from here…

Slightly less casual about his opponent’s kickout than the last time, Ward scoffs toward Newell again and decides it might be the right time to have a debate with the match official about the speed of his count.

Nick: The counts so far have all looked perfectly fine to me, I don’t know what the Hall of Famer can be complaining about.

Richard: Maybe he’s just suggesting that, y’know, being a PRIME employee and all, Newell might be best served taking care of one of his own.

Nick: I’ve been shocked by how low Matt Ward has stooped in these past few weeks but that I still wouldn’t believe.

Realizing he’s not going to get anywhere with the junior official, Ward spins back around to focus on Dakari.


Nick: I told you he was determined! Drop toe-hold from Dakari and Ward’s chin smashes down into the mat!

Richard: ARGH! That was all Max Newell’s fault!

Nick: It was Ward who started that whole thing with the official!

The crowd, delighted to see that the match is not the foregone conclusion it was appearing to be, are quickly reignited by Dakari’s first attack for some time. With Ward prone on the mat, Dakari again delves deep into his martial arts repertoire, scrambling up from the foot of the "Inhuman Being’s" body to the side of his temple…

Nick: Dakari quickly maneuvering himself into a position for some kind of submission here… I’m not sure whether he will be able to get it locked-in properly…


Nick: …but it’s there! Arm triangle choke applied by Dakari!

Richard: This isn’t MMA for Hoyt’s sake! Is this even a legal hold?

Max Newell is right in there and he apparently doesn't see anything wrong with it as he is flat-out in front of the "Inhuman Being’s" face, demanding to know whether he is going to give-in to the excruciating hold.


Nick: These fans are desperate to see this upset, they are crying out for Matt Ward to give it up… ahhh listen to him scream in agony. This is one of the most famous and devastating holds in all of mixed martial arts, countless tough guys have caved in-…

Richard: … -Matt Ward is more than just tough though Nick, he has been in far worse positions against much bigger guys.

Nick: And back then you would be just like these fans, screaming for him to give it up!

Completely aware that he needs to pull, and fast, Ward begins scrambling for the nearest rope, which is only a matter of three feet or so away. The fans continue to chant at him to give it up and the match official is right in his face, checking on the status of the Intense Champion. Dakari is pulling on the hold with every fiber of his being. Although his huge size advantage is giving the former Universal Champion a chance to scramble…


Dakari gives one last, huge pull and yells out a primal scream for the first time in the match and Ward’s hand immediately drops from its extended grasp towards the ropes and hits the canvas…

Nick: He looks out! I think Dakari has done it!


"UGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" – Ward’s huge grunt is heard clearly around the stadium, changing the response from an excited rush to a groan of acceptance as his right hand stretches out and gratefully clutches the bottom rope. Max Newell is immediately up and heaving on Dakari’s grip to release the hold…





Richard: That little sneak didn’t let go of the hold!

Nick: I can’t condone it Rich, but I think Dakari realizes just how close Matt Ward was to passing out there. His airway was totally obstructed by that hold and it took one last Herculean effort for the Intense Champion to reach the safety of that bottom rope. How much has that taken out of Matt Ward with this match still running and with another coming?

Gasping for air and clutching at his throbbing larynx, Ward maintains a grip of the ropes as Max Newell pushes Dakari away from potentially continuing an attack, scathing him for disobeying his count. The JUST superstar argues with the official and eagerly tries to push past, but Newell lays down the law and refuses to budge…

Richard: That’s more like it Newell, look after your own…

Nick: Ward getting some valuable extra seconds here to recover… and Newell finally lets him go… here comes Dakari again!








Max Newell: TWO!


Nick: Look at the rope Richard! Look what is on there! Newell counted the "three" but then he saw the foot there, Dakari stuck out a leg and stays alive in this match!

Richard: No! DAMMIT! Why do we even have ropes anyway man? What is the point of them?

Nick: You are so, so dumb sometimes.

Both men are down, panting. Ward is incredulous that his sneak pin didn’t get the desired result and is laid flat-out on his back, chest beating up and down heavily as his lungs pull in and push out air. Dakari is fresher, but is moving noticeably slower than earlier on in the match. He is first to his feet and meets Ward, who is only up to one knee.

Nick: A measured flurry of offense again from Dakari… elbows… chops… knee strikes… toe strikes…


Richard: WARD FIRES BACK WITH SOME OF HIS OWN! Smash, right hand, left hand… Dakari is falling…


Nick: …Back off the ropes Dakari lands another sweet knee… Ward is staggering…


Richard: He won’t go down though… he catches a flailing boot…


Nick: Dragon-screw attempt from Matt Ward… blocked by Dakari… front facelock applied…

Dakari yells towards the packed Qualcomm Stadium, apparently signaling his finishing move…




Richard: OH MY!



Matt Ward has lifted Dakari onto his shoulders and is grinning manically at the crowd, sweating and breathing heavily… He sucks in one last gulp of air and propels his opponent in the air around his head, maintaining grip around his chest with his right arm before jumping off his own feet and adding to the momentum drawing Dakari down to the mat.


Dakari’s body slams down into the mat, with Ward drilling down on top of him. The former Universal Champion hooks a leg.







Nick: Wow…

Richard: I know, Nick. I know.

Nick: That is not a move we see too regularly here in PRIME folks and that is perhaps a move Anathkash Dakari has ever seen before… but he knows of it now, he just took it full force and has been defeated by it.

Richard: Inhuman Treatment sends the "Inhuman Being" to the next round of the Elite Championship Tournament! I told you Nick!

The numerous replays of the stunning finishing maneuver replay in our double feature and on the PRIME*View within the Qualcomm Stadium, silencing the jeering with its sheer majesty. Max Newell heads for Matt Ward and raises his arm briefly in victory. Ward shrugs him off and raises his own arms, sneering at the crowd as "I Fucking Hate You" starts up.

Vince Howard: Ladies and gentlemen… your winner, and progressing through to the next round of the Elite Championship Tournament… "THE INHUMMMANNNN BEEEEEIIIINNNNGGGGG" MATTTTTTTTT WAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRDDDDDD!


Newell hands Ward his Intense Championship and quickly leaves his side to check on Anathkash Dakari…

Nick: The underdog didn’t quite have enough in the tank to cause the upset in our opener here folks, but make no mistake about it: he pushed Matt Ward all the way and on a couple of occasions came very close to getting Colossus VII off to a very auspicious start!

Richard: I was confident from start to finish that my new favorite was get the job done here on behalf of all of us at PRIME.

Nick: You have to admit that he had a few shaky moments there, though?

Richard: Dakari was not as awful as I expected him to be.

Nick: Quite the admission from Richard Parker there folks! That’s about as close to a compliment as a wrestler from another promotion is going to get out of my broadcast partner. Ward heading backstage in a hurry now… he knows he’s gonna need as much time as possible to prepare for the wrath of Troy that he’ll be facing later on tonight!

Richard: I don’t think too much was taken out of him here Nick, the guy looks fine to me.

Nick: You never know partner, that arm triangle choke was locked in for a good length of time and a hold of that severity may have implications later on if Troy targets the same area.

Richard: They don’t call him the "Inhuman Being" for nothing, I don’t think he’ll be feeling too many effects, plus there’s so much to get through between now and then.

Nick: Indeed there is Richard, as Anathkash Dakari stands to a warm ovation for his efforts from this San Diego crowd. Colossus VII is just beginning. Up next we have Elise Ares and Nitz Donnelly going one-on-one for the PRIME Swagger Championship! Back in a jiff!

Richard: "Jiff"?

Elise Ares © vs Nitz Donnelly

A jiff passes.

Richard: Who the hell uses jiff anymore? Do you live in the 70s?

Nick: I guess I do.

Richard: What d... Ugh, forget it, I'm done with you. Let's just go up to Howard and get my entertainment out here.

Vince Howard: The following match is scheduled for one fall and is for the SWAGGER CHAMPIONSHIP...

A drum roll echoes around Qualcomm and spotlights shine down toward the stage. Two men dressed in black appear and quickly run down the aisle, unrolling a red carpet from entrance to ring. As they finish, they jump over a wall and disappear into a group of fans. The drum roll turns into a sounding of trumpets, serenading an inquisitive audience with a fanfare appropriate for royalty. As horns triumphantly continue, a small group of people in black gather at the entrance. More and more people seem to be gathering and all carrying... cameras.


All fanfare stops, being replaced by a tidal wave of boos. A mostly male choir of seething hatred as "Swaggeriffic" by Verbz caresses 75,000 eardrums... with a sledgehammer.

Nick: Ohhhh boy.

Richard: THIS is going to be GOOD.

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

It is only a matter of time until The Swaggeriffic One lost her mind. This was that time. Six men walk out each wearing a suit, each holding up a pole supporting what appears to be a modern update on an ancient Egyptian style palanquin. Only this isn't any run of the mill palanquin... this one has a black leather theater style chair, a mini-fridge, and no top. This... is a luxury palanquin covertable.

Sitting on a black leather home-theater style seat with her legs crossed and smiling from ear to ear is Elise Ares, complete with SWAGGER Championship hanging down from her right shoulder. Standing up, The Wolf of Slaughter reveals a red carpet style dress as cameramen flock around her palanquin, following and taking pictures as she holds the SWAGGER Championship over her head.

Vince Howard: Introducing first... The SWAGGER Champion, from Hollywood, California by way of Miami, Florida, weighing in at 121 pounds, she is the self-proclaimed UNDISPUTED PRIME QUEEN OF SWAGGER... ELIIISEEEEEEEE ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRES!

Nick: How can you be self-proclaimed and undisputed?

Richard: From HOLLYWOOD! When did that happen?!

Nick: I was actually thinking the same thing myself, must have been a change of address put in by our former Miss Hawaiian Tropic. I'm sure Nitz has plans on making her stay there.

Richard: She's moving up in the world, Nick! With a title like that, you can't be forced to walk the streets of Miami. A girl could get robbed.

Nick: Yes, LA is certainly the safest city in the world.

Richard: You ever heard of Mel Gibson stealing? I think not.

Nick: And Winona Ryder?

Richard: Shut up! I'm trying to enjoy this!

Coming to aisle's end, the palanquin is revealed to be as tall as the ring. Looking around at her not-so-adoring "fans" Elise blows kisses before grabbing the abdomen area of her long purple designer dress and pulling as hard as she can, revealing a rip away into a very glittery black and purple version of her normal wrestling attire. Qualcomm boos louder, finding her reveal to be over-dramatic as a giant banner drops down from behind her covering every inch of PRIME*view and stage area saying only five words:

"Brought to you by PRADA."


Nick: This is... by far, the STUPIDEST entrance I think I've ever seen.

Richard: It show you have no taste for fashion, and no flare for the dramatic!

Nick: I have a flare coming up through the back of my throat right now, and I may need a bucket.

Thanks to her over sized palanquin, Ares grabs a bottle of water out of her portable mini-fridge and steps into the ring. Wearing her SWAGGER Championship proudly over her right shoulder, she waves around the arena before stopping in the center of the ring and taking a bow, much to the delight of the paparazzi surrounding the ring. Following her performance, she takes a drag of FUJI as her palanquin is returned backstage. The red carpet is rolled up. Finally, her PRADA inspired banner drops down and is taken through the curtain.

Nick: Never in my life have I been so happy that someone's ring entrance is over.

Richard: We need instant replay for that!

Nick: NO. GOD NO.

As Elise waits, her music fades and Vince Howard prepares to introduce her opponent.

Vince Howard: Now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Leticia Mendoza!

A loud pop is heard as stage hands quickly emerge wheeling out a very large grand piano on its own platform. They place it on the main stage's right corner. There are mics set up in front of the piano to capture sound. Leticia then parts the curtain herself and looks absolutely stunning in a long black gown with a plunging neckline. Her high heels can be heard clicking on stage as she approaches the piano and pulls out a stool, quickly sitting.

Richard: What the hell is this? We have a wrestling event to get to... this isn't America's Got Talent.

Nick: I've been told what's happening here and all I have to say is if you open your mouth once during this performance, I'll slit your throat.

Richard: Wait, what? A little harsh no?

Nick: For you? Never.

Leticia cracks her neck, knuckles, and settles in behind the beautiful piano. Elise Ares is growing very impatient and urges both referee and Vince Howard to stop this charade.

Then, she begins to play...

Requiem for a Dream.

Leticia's skilled fingers glide over piano keys, winning attention from a now silent audience. The PRIME*View lights up with a plethora of Nitz Donnelly highlights from his entire career. PRIME moments are included, but a good portion of the clips are taken from independent circuits and numerous events in Japan and Mexico.

Once tempo picks up, scenes from recent weeks are shown: Nitz and Vance getting mouthy with each other backstage. A few beatdowns Nitz has taken and even before that, Nitz holding a Tag Team Championship in victory.

Tempo slows down quickly, showing a video recorded earlier today. Nitz is standing middle of the ring in an empty Qualcomm Stadium, head hung low, unmoving, and focused. He raises his head to the sky, basking in sunlight as the video fades out and Leticia finishes a remaining few notes left on Requiem. Fans hesitate, Requiem for a Dream doing it's job in relaxing the crowd. As soon Leticia plays her last note, the main sound system kicks in with...

Janus. Eyesore. Enormous pop.


Fans also clap in appreciation for Leticia's piano playing skills. She gives a wave in return. Once heavy parts of the song kick in, the curtain is thrown open. Nitz Donnelly is under spotlights, looking out at 75,000 strong in Qualcomm. He shades his eyes to see each and every fan in attendance.

Leticia approaches from his left and gives him a big hug, winning the ire of Elise Ares who is pointing out and yelling, "GET A ROOM!"

Nitz makes his way down the ramp as Leticia disappears backstage. He stops and stands dead center on the ramp, looking to the cheap seats and pointing around Qualcomm to get his adrenaline pumping. He then throws his arms out in a pose while pyro explodes on the stage and above the PRIME*View. A huge smile is on The Ego's face.

Vince Howard: Introducing, from Venice Beach, California by way of Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at 224 pounds, he is THE HALO'S HEROOOOOOOOO... NITZ DONNELLY!


Nick: What an entrance, coupled with the beautiful piano playing of Leticia Mendoza.

Richard: Enjoy it while you can, this will be the height of the night for that man. He's about to be taken to school by our Swagger Champion. Plus it wasn't all that flashy.

Nick: You're talking about a guy who showed up to the fan fest yesterday on a huge yacht and 10 people won the right to join him for the eve for a party on that boat. I don't care what you say, that's pimptastic.

Richard: Pimptastic?! Ok, that's it, shut off his mic now! You're never allowed to say that again.

Nitz slides under the bottom rope and pops to his feet, running to a corner and jumping on the second rope, looking out at his sea of supporters again. He raises his arms and gets down, locking eyes with The Havana Harlot. His music fades out. Inside the ring, tension between Donnelly and Ares is so thick it could be cut with a knife. Referee Max Newell quickly checks both competitors for illegal weapons. Even though no sound is emitting from any speaker, all sections of Qualcomm are shaking with anticipation.

Nick: Nitz Donnelly and Elise Ares. Their first one-on-one contest ever and I for one couldn't wait anymore!

The bell rings, signifying this donnybrook to get underway. Nobody is sitting down. Qualcomm is electric with anticipation.


Both competitors circle each other slowly. Nitz is staring deep into Elise's eyes while Elise duplicates Nitz, each attempting to see what the other will do first. Fans get even more anxious as Ares and Donnelly come closer together. They still hold off, until Elise springs forward with a spinning kick that just misses Nitz's face.


Nitz smiles brightly, although he knows that boot just missed his cheek. They circle again. Nitz moves in for a tie up and pushes Elise back into the corner, who avoids a tie up and sticks her head between the ropes. Referee Max Newell steps in before any damage is done and separates the two. Rabid fans let Elise have it for backing away.


Nick: Tense opening to this match.

Richard: Nah, let's be honest... Elise doesn't know where Nitz has been and he shouldn't be able to lay a finger on her without some STD tests.

Nick: She's probably as promiscuous if not more so than Nitz!

Richard: Yeah and? She's a chick, that's hot.

Back in center ring, The Halo's Hero waits impatiently for The Swaggerific One to come out of hiding in her corner. She flips him the bird and she gets one right back as Nitz charges in at her, his patience lapsing. She is just a split second quicker though as she whips around with the palm of her hand, catching Nitz square on his cheek and jaw with a slap.

Nick: Jesus, you could swear a shotgun just went off in Qualcomm Stadium!

Richard: That'll teach him for trying to grab her boobs.

The Ego stumbles a little, more in shock from impact than anything else. Elise moves in quick as a cat and maneuvers around with a spinning heel kick, but Nitz sees with enough time to duck her attempt. Elise hits the mat, but rolls to her feet to see Donnelly on his rebound from far side. She ducks...


... and Nitz leaps right over her, hitting the ropes behind her and coming back with a flying forearm that catches Ares in her forehead, knocking her loopy. The Ego immediately gets to his feet and attempts to take advantage with a stomp to Elise's head. She catches and dodges his foot, tripping him up and sending him to the mat as well. The Swaggerific One twists to her feet and attempts to lock on a grapevine. Nitz turns and kicks her off him, lunging forward to his feet a second later and dropping the Swagger Champ with a quick backslide.



But Elise quickly escapes and keeps a high pace. She rolls out and grabs the legs of Nitz, dropping a double leg drop in his family jewels which stops Nitz dead in his tracks. Max Newell doesn't budge though, appearing to let that one slide much to the chagrin of the sold out audience.


Richard: Oh boo all you want people. You don't wanna see this thing end so early in a DQ.

Nick: I think you're right for a change.

Elise quickly capitalizes, throwing a couple of well placed boots into Donnelly's midsection. He is still writhing around in pain from that double leg drop to his schnutz. Ares runs far side, leaping onto a middle rope and contorting into a makeshift body splash that connects dead on. She keeps the cover...



Fast kickout from Donnelly who is sick of being on his back already. He rolls to his knees, fighting through pain in his groin as Ares drags him up by his hair. He shrugs off her arms and fires a right hand at her face. She stumbles, now in shock that he would dare punch her in her beautiful face. She can't react fast enough before Donnelly fires a second right hand and connects. Followed by a third... forth and fifth, backing Elise into the ropes.

Nick: She's pretty tough to withstand those punches from Donnelly.


Nick: Oh shut up.

Richard gets to his feet behind the announce table, screaming some more, but it all falls on deaf ears except for the guy behind him in the crowd who pulls the headset off his head.

Richard (muffled): Who the fuck did that?

Nitz leans in and Irish whips Ms. Swagger to the far ropes and charges ahead, spearing her hard.


He refuses to cover though. Instead, Donnelly goes through the ropes and poses on the apron. He doesn't notice Ares quickly stirring and rising to her feet, timing things just right to intercept his springboard attempt. She pushes his legs from under him. He tumbles backwards out of the ring, hitting the mats hard, and bounces back further toward a crowd barrier.


Nick: Someone better check to see if he's alright. He could have broken his neck.

Richard: That was indeed a nasty fall but that's okay, he deserves it.

Elise takes her time, still shaking off bone rattling impact from Donnelly's spear. She slowly moves to the ropes but Max Newell prevents her from leaving. He then turns his back. Elise does what ever other wrestler does when denied access outside the ring. She climbs through the ropes to her right instead of in front of her.

Richard: Don't these silly officials learn? You'd might as well let them out of the ring.

Nick: He's just doing his job.

Richard: And I'm just doing my job too, so quit telling me to shut up you jackass! Don't like it? Take it to Shakur... I'm sure he'd love to hear from you instead of making him money.

Nick: I uhhhhh... forget it.

Richard: Thought so, now call the match.

Elise circles and comes to where Nitz crashed and burned. She hauls him to his feet by his hair, and whips him into the barrier again. She gets a loud groan of pain from Donnelly as he collapses against padded barricade. She places a couple boots in his back and then moves over to Vince Howard and shoos him way, taking his chair and folding it. Max Newell ceases his count and admonishes her, but she takes no heed. She winds up and goes for a home run swing, crushing Donnelly after he just made his way to his knees.

Newall wants to end this blatant show of disregard for his rules, but hesitates and reluctantly restarts the process of counting both superstars out.

Nick: Well that seals it. The referee has basically decided all on his own that this is now a No-DQ match and just after she attempted to break Nitz's back.

Newell regains his composure and continues counting. Yelling out '5', he pauses again and based on his actions just a moment earlier, throws his hands up and tries to get the duo back inside.

Richard: No count out too? When did the referee's start making the rules in PRIME?

Nick: Well if no one wants to see a disqualification, I'm willing to bet that even less people want to see a count out.

Richard: I'll take that bet based on the fact that there is no such thing as "less than no one" you idiot.

Nick: Don't give me an excuse to go to Shakur to make the first ever announcers match tonight.

Richard: You suck, I'd so kick your ass all over San Diego!

Nick: I'd hate to see what you'd do in San Francisco.

Nitz attempts to crawl away on his back. He's trying to cover his back but is ultimately more concerned about his ribs. Elise notices his focus and changes her own, stepping to Donnelly's side and firing a well placed field goal kick straight into his chest. The Ego falls over onto his side and gasps for air. All those bloodthirsty fans are now silenced as Ares has turned her focus to Nitz's injuries.

Nick: I don't know how much longer Nitz can take this type of beating. His ribs were already damaged and that boot along with the chair shot isn't doing anything positive for him.

Richard: I think it's a long time coming to see this crowd pandering ass suffer this much.

Elise picks Donnelly up and rolls him under the bottom rope. He comes to a stop on his stomach, trying to catch his breath. Pain is surging throughout his entire torso as his barely healed ribs are returned to their badly injured state.

Meanwhile, Elise gets back into the ring, going straight for a corner, and ascends from inside, wasting no time in perching herself on the top rope before leaping off backwards. Nitz screams bloody murder when she comes into contact with his entire torso on a successful moonsault double stomp.


Elise gets back to her feet and looks down at Donnelly twitching in agony. He can barely muster enough energy to move.

Richard: This one is finished. Elise just dealt the deathblow!

Nick: I'm almost agreeing with you now. Nitz is seriously hurt.

Elise agrees with Richard and stands over The Halo's Hero, admiring her handiwork. She places her foot on Nitz's chest and steps over him. She then performs her trademark rhythmic dance while yelling " Que Tal Eso?", capping it off by spitting on Donnelly. Fans actually chant with her, knowing about it and showing they are very into the match. Most people continue to rain down hate. Richard gets out of his seat in jubilation.


Nick: What the...

Richard: I'm on camera aren't I?

He quickly glances up at the big screen and then hangs his head in shame.

Nick: You've just made a bigger ass out of yourself that I ever have and that says a lot!

Ares lifts The Ego to his knees and then bounces off far side, lifting her foot to kick him in the face, but Nitz drops down while Elise as she struggles to maintain her balance. He lunges ahead and clips her leg, sending her to the mat like a sack of potatoes. The crowd explodes at a sudden yet brief offense.

Nick: I think that was out of desperation, and now Elise is rolling on the mat herself holding her right knee.

Richard: You mean I did that gay dance for nothing? Damnit Elise, you were supposed to win!

Donnelly wills himself to his feet and growls in anger and pain, grabbing Elise's leg and firing a couple boots into her hamstring. She screams, an ear piercing howl, causing people in nearby rows to cover their ears. Everybody else is cheering wildly, finally seeing hatred and frustration spilling from each and every one of Nicholas Donnelly's actions.

He brings her leg to a side and drops a quick elbow on it; another scream sending chills down his own spine. But he gets to his feet and drops a second elbow and then a third. He stands up again, jumping high and dropping his own knee on hers.


Nitz rolls out of the ring, holding his ribs and breathing heavy. He grabs a chair used on him only a few moments earlier and shoves it back into the ring. Nitz enters a half second later. Max Newell protests but Nitz is having none of it, not letting him near the chair. He instead yells out to Newall about an eye for an eye before raising the chair above his head. Newell backs off and turns his head, either to avoid watching or refusing to admit Nitz is breaking even more rules. A loud CRACK is heard followed by another ugly scream from deep within the Swaggerific One. Nitz doesn't stop. Instead, he turns the chair upside down, smashing it down back first into the right side of her knee. She recoils across the ring in pure horror.

Richard: Disqualify him! Her poor leg!

Nick: You heard Nitz... an eye for an eye!

Richard: Yeah but a line needs to be drawn.


Donnelly fires a fist directly into Ares' forehead. She falls backwards holding her knee. Nitz wraps the folding chair around it. He then makes his way to the ropes, stepping outside all while holding his ribs and gasping for air. He climbs up in the corner at a steady pace, but obviously suffering effects of his injuries. Not a person is attendance is sitting down. The Havana Harlot's knee is in major jeopardy. He takes as deep of a breath as he can and leaps forward, turning end over end in a 450 splash that has flashbulbs flooding Qualcomm in light. He comes into contact with the chair... but nothing more. Elise quickly fled the scene as Donnelly was in full rotation.


Nick: My god! His body is broken and battered!

Richard: What a moron! His ribs were practically smashed into pieces already and then he does this? He's done like dinner!

Elise pulls herself over to a nearly unconscious Ego and rolls him to his back for a cover.



THR-... It's not over yet as The Halo's Hero painfully kicks out.

Nick: Donnelly is still in this match. I don't know how, but he is, and yet he just wasted precious energy by kicking out.

Richard: His whole body has to be one big field of pain now. Even the simplest moves are next to impossible with bad ribs.

Nick: I'm sure his ribs are the most serious, but don't forget about his neck and the laceration on his shoulders. I'm beginning to think that he shouldn't even be here tonight.

Ares gets to her feet, limping now as her knee didn't escape bad damage. She winces as she moves, looking down at Nitz crawling to the ropes. An outside camera focuses on a downed Ego of New England, who raises his head to show his fans a gruesome scene.


Blood is slowly running from his mouth. It's hard to tell but Nitz doesn't have a laceration in his mouth.

Nick: He's bleeding internally now, a mixture of saliva and blood disturbing this audience. Now Max Newell has to judge if this contest needs to be stopped.

Indeed, Newall jumps in front of Ares, forcing her to cease her pursuit. Newall kneels beside Nitz who is trying to pull himself to his feet by use of ropes.


The crowd resumes their Donnelly chants, drowning out discussion in the ring but Nitz is able to yell loud enough to be heard.

Nitz: FUCK NO!


Newall backs off Donnelly and Elise tries to take advantage, but she is stopped in her tracks by a Superman fist in her breadbasket. She falls backwards, landing on her backside with any remaining wind knocked out of her. The Ego falls forward via momentum, but scurries to where Ares is seated, grabs her by the right leg, and applies a leg lock.

Nick: Donnelly slowing down the pace of this match now with a rest move. He's got it locked in tight.

Richard: Elise is trying to sink her claws into the body of Nitz to break this hold.

Sure enough, her nails are digging away, trying to do whatever she can to break Donnelly's lock. She manages to loosen his grip enough to allow a scramble to the ropes, forcing Nitz to break. Newall counts, although it's redundant since he is not willing to end this match without a decisive finish. Nitz breaks anyways, realizing he must attack more. He gets up, holding his ribs, and drops yet another knee on Elise's injured limb. He drags her to her feet and Irish whips her far side. On her rebound, he lands another Superman punch on the temple. He goes down hard but gets right back up, adrenaline flowing in both competitors, rendering their injuries ineffective for a short time. She comes back at Nitz, who sends her down with a clothesline. He secures his ribs with his arm and then leaps, catching The Havana Harlot with a flawless dropkick on her jaw.

Nick: These people are all on their feet again. I don't think most of them have sat down for this contest!

Chants of Donnelly cry out again as both superstars are back on their feet, Nitz a split second before Elise. He backs her into the ropes and whips her far side once again. Looking over his shoulder, and timing it perfectly, he leaps onto the middle rope and lunges back into a picture perfect shining wizard kick, flooring Ares with authority.


Nitz immediately moves right to her, initiating another pinfall.




Richard: Oh thank Hoyt!

Nick: Elise kicks out at two and a half, extending the life of this matchup which has been HOT since the ball rang!

Elise uses what adrenaline she has left to roll toward ropes, and gets to her feet. Nitz is already up expends more energy charging forward. He comes into contact with Elise, sending both tumbling over the ropes. But The Ego grabs the top rope, leaving The Swaggerific One to hit the mats with a loud thud. He can't pull himself end over end, so he sets his foot on the apron and regains a vertical base. He then leaps through the ropes, seemingly not feeling the effects of his injuries, and jogs for far side. He picks up speed with a rebound and bows as soon as he comes close to the near ropes, diving just as Elise grits her teeth forcing her knee to work the right way to stand up. He flies between the middle and top rope like a jet, coming into contact with Elise and landing a suicide dive. Impact pushes her back into a barrier behind her. But they don't stop there as the barrier comes apart. People in seats behind scramble to find cover as two pieces of crowd control come cascading towards them. Both Donnelly and Ares lies on top of one piece as gawking fans view a trainwreck at their feet.


Richard: NO! Elise is dead! Call my lawyer and get the engagement ring returned for a full refund!

Nick: It's like a car crash ringside! And what ring? You really think you'd have a shot at her anyways?

Richard: I was gonna spring it on her as she was high from medications to deal with the pain after the show, but now she's gotta be dead!

The chant continues for a good ten seconds after an impact that could have killed them both. But they both stir, winning a roar of approval from tens of thousands of people. A view of Ocean Beach is shown with people swimming in the water, crowding an area in front of a big screen with drinks raised high. They are rowdier, but Qualcomm isn't far behind in their respect of such a brawl. Appreciation grows as both stars make their way up, Nitz helped a little by a couple die hard ringside fans. He shrugs them off with urgency as Elise goes for broke, firing a closed fist into his face. He retaliates, connecting with a haymaker of his own. Ares balks, then fires right back, creating the classic "Yay/Boo" chant with each punch landed.








Their chants signify a changing of tide with Nitz falling to a knee and holding his ribs. He fires a quick roundhouse at her knee, but misses and receives a diving clothesline, knocking Nitz to his back in front of a fleeing audience. Newell doesn't dare set foot outside, trying to scream at both stars to bring it back inside. Elise gets up first, after that diving clothesline, and goes to stomp The Ego again. He catches her foot and trips up her bad leg, sending her twisting and falling back onto the collapsed barrier, also giving her a pathway back to ringside. Nitz is quick to follow, sighing and catching his breath as his ribs continue to hinder his movement.

Nick: Neither of them can seem to have long control over the match and these people area ll either standing or on the edge of their seats.

Richard: You're telling me. This is the second match of the night and I'm already tired.

Elise finally gets to ringside mats. Nitz gathers up enough energy to follow. He dives forward, tripping up Elise again and forcing her to smash her face into the apron.

Nick: Ooooo she'll be feeling that one tomorrow.

Richard: Oh her pretty face! Get up!

Elise checks her nose for blood as Nitz wipes dried blood from his chin. He takes her by her pants and hair, rolling her back into the ring. He slides in under the bottom rope but is met with a fist to his back. It serves to ensure the tide doesn't completely shift to his favor, but at the same time his ribs are taking another shot.

She gets to her feet and has The Ego on his hands and knees. She rolls over him and wraps him up, folding his body like an accordion and pinning his shoulders to the mat.



THREEE-Not yet!

Nick: Nitz kicks out again but each kickout has to be killing his ribs.

Richard: Stay on him Elise.

One could swear she heard Richard as she doesn't waste any time planting a sharp elbow into Donnelly's right side. She gets him to his feet and twists, locking her arm around his neck and sitting down in a picture perfect neckbreaker. The Ego collapses, obviously feeling effects of Ares' continued onslaught. Elise turns him to his back and goes for victory.




Another kickout by Donnelly.

Nick: Elise now beginning to show a little frustration.

And it's justified as The Halo's Hero is stirring once again, just seconds after escaping another pinfall attempt.

The Swagger Champion gathers her thoughts and quickly runs another sequence of events through her mind. She then moves into place to make her vision a reality. Being as methodical as a master of the mat can be, she runs far side and springboards back towards Donnelly, dropping him with a high cross body. She rolls off immediately and moves to pick him back up, not giving him an ounce of rest. She executes a devastating backbreaker across her knee. Donnelly falls, holding his side as his ribs are taking a complete pounding. She sets up for a deathlock, twisting her own legs to lock with his and then locks in a hold around his chin, causing him to contort into a very awkward and painful looking bridge.

Nick: THE VICE! And if there were any moment in this match so far where I could be hearing the bell ring, it's right now.

Richard: She's got it cinched in tight. He can't possibly reach the ropes.

The Ego is screaming bloody murder and Elise is also screaming, expending a serious amount of energy simply keeping the hold applied.


Nick: If he can stand the pain, Ares won't have it in her to keep this locked on.

Richard: But ever second he is locked in, the damage is being done not only to his back and ribs, but his neck as well.

Nick: She is certainly playing to all of her advantages with this latest flurry of moves.

Unfortunately, her arms tire, loosening the hold every moment it's still applied. When Nitz refuses to tap, she releases the hold. She needs to keep some energy to finish him off. Stiff and sore, Donnelly reaches an arm toward the ropes. Ares quickly cuts him off with a boot to his back. She lifts him up by his hair and acts as if she wants to lariat him over the top rope. Donnelly ducks and grabs her, lifting her up for either a backdrop or atomic drop. The Havana Harlot realizes her mistake and kicks her legs, causing pain in Nitz's ribs to multiply, and his legs to buckle. She comes to a sitting position on the top rope and drops, performing a variant of an Ace Crusher as she drops to the outside, hanging The Halo's Hero out to dry on the top rope.

Richard: CUBAN NECKTIE! I love it!

Nick: Calm down Rich. Anymore excited and you'll tip our table over with that tent in your pants.

Elise looks to the crowd and flips them a hand essentially saying "Talk to it." She jumps back up onto the apron, looking down at Donnelly who is halfway across the ring. She then climbs to the top rope.

Nick: High risk coming up here.

Elise steadies herself on the top rope and then leaps, performing a somersault and crash landing across Donnelly's neck with a flipping legdrop. Flashbulbs from shocked fans create a sea of blue in Qualcomm.

Richard: Oh come on now, this one is over, where's the fat lady?

Elise drags herself back over to Nitz, who's breathing has been cut short already by damage to his ribs. Now, he's basically choking on pieces of his decimated esophagus.

Richard: Count it!





Nick: I didn't hear a fat lady sing!

Richard practically falls off his chair, shocked Donnelly was able to escape that devastating maneuver. Elise can't believe it either, slapping the mat in frustration. She begs to Newell that it definitely should have been three, but he's having none of it.

She gives up the argument, looking back to a stirring Ego. Wanting to keep control, she walks to the ropes and leans against them. She puts a fist in the air and shakes her hips in another seductive dance. Nitz is struggling to get vertical again. She's poised and takes off, bouncing off the ropes and jumping with a flying Superhero punch, ready to take Nitz's head off. Luckily for him, he sees it and tosses his body right side, causing Ares to smack canvas with authority and cutting off her momentum.

Nick: Amethystation fails and now, Nitz will be looking to take advantage.

Richard: Oh come on already! This guy just won't go away!

Richard slinks off his chair and stands, leaning over and pounding his fists on the announce table. Nitz gets back up at the same time Ares does. She swings with a fist, connecting on his cheek. She winds up again, pulling the trigger but this time she is blocked, and Nitz retaliates with a shot of his own.


Another attempt at a punch by Elise is once again blocked and returned by Nitz, causing her to shuffle her feet back. She tries once more and it is blocked. A third punch connects with her jaw. She is backed against the ropes and receives an Irish whipped to opposite side ropes. On her rebound, Nitz lifts a foot into the air, looking for a huge boot. Elise ducks under it, immediately leaping onto the middle rope. She twists over top of a spinning Donnelly and cuts him down like a tree with an earth shattering Blockbuster.


Appreciation is almost shown by the crowd as she moves in line for yet another pin attempt. Richard is down on his knees beside the table.




Nick: Another escape by Nitz! And get back in your chair.

Richard: Screw you, I'm showing my sweetie some support!

Richard makes his way to the ring, headset still on his head, and dragging extra cord with him. He pounds on the canvas, trying to drum up support for Ares with no success. She is breathing heavy, having a great amount of energy zapped from her well conditioned body. Nitz is trying to get up, but is being interrupted constantly by sharp pains in his ribs. He knows he is in trouble and has to think of a way out and fast. Richard is making a fool of himself, winning laughs and jokes from fans who paid big money to sit ringside.

Nick: You pull that headset any further and you won't be on the air anymore.

Richard: And people will tune out. Face it, everyone loves me and I'm the reason they tune in... besides Elise of course.

Nick: Oh brother.

Shrugging off pain, if only for a moment, Donnelly reaches his feet to a delighted jam packed stadium. Elise reached a vertical base a second earlier. She comes forward on an attack with a wild roundhouse. A haymaker is blocked and returned in kind. She gathers her marbles and tries again, but a redundant result becomes of her effort. Third time isn't a charm either, and now The Havana Harlot is rocked back into nearby ropes. Nitz rushes opposite side and rebounds. He leaps, grabbing Ares by her hair and hanging her out to dry on the top rope as he leaps over. His landing is not smooth, but it's decent. He quickly slides back into the ring. He pulls Elise up by her hair and twists into a neck breaker. Momentum is building for Nitz and Qualcomm is feeling every second.


Richard: Come on! Something need to be... oh yeah! Here we go!

Nick: Uh oh, this could spell trouble for Donnelly.

Boos immediately begin to rain down as Vance Raymes is spotted on stage. He slowly makes his way down the ramp, almost thinking two steps ahead to see just how he can make an impact. He is chased down ,and cut off, by a desperate Leticia Mendoza.

She comes to a stop in front of him, trying to shove The Tortured Artist back a little. He is stunned for a short period of time, not knowing what to think as she begs for this match to be settled properly. Vance moves after a second to push. Leticia stands her ground, attempting another shove. Nitz meanwhile hasn't spotted the duo and drops a big elbow on the knee of Elise and locks in another leg submission.

Nick: What's the paper in her hand?

Richard: What the hell are you talking about?

Leticia is talking to Vance, away from prying ears of microphones so hearing their conversation is impossible. She reaches out and hands Vance a piece of paper, winning a look of disapproval. Trying to ask what exactly it's all about, Leticia shakes her head and just says, "Trust me" followed by a phrase that looks like "We didn't hurt you...". His shoulders drop upon opening a folded piece of paper and seeing its contents. Nitz notices both Leticia and Vance talking on stage and breaks his hold. He gets off the mat and leans over the top rope threatening Vance that he'd better not lay one finger on Leticia. He gives up a middle finger and Vance turns, almost knocking Leticia off the ramp before hightailing it out of the stadium. Leticia, pleased as can be with what she accomplished, looks back at Nitz briefly and makes her way backstage.

Elise has recovered, somewhat, and hobbles over to her pre-occupied opponent. She tries a sneak attack, but Nitz senses trouble and side steps, hooking Elise in a flash and dropping to the mat.

Nick: PRIDE BEFORE THE FALL! DEVIL'S LOCK DDT! And this one is over!

Richard: Get up!

Richard pounds on the mat as Nitz makes a cover for an elementary three count.




Nick: Donnelly has done it! He's...

Richard: He hasn't done shit, look!

Max Newell shakes his head even though his hand came down for a three count. He waves off the decision and points to Elise's left leg, hanging almost lifelessly on the bottom rope. Nitz can't believe it, running his fingers through his hair. Qualcomm had gone apeshit thinking this match was over but they quiet down, in shock Elise escaped Nitz's devastating finisher.

Richard: My god I think I just had a heart attack.

Nick: Maybe it would help if you got away from the ring and sat down.

Richard: Nah, just push my chair over here will ya?

Nick: Screw off, I'm not your slave boy!

Holding his back, Nitz gets to his feet, talking to Newell as he rises. Elise stirs and gets to a knee. Nitz is waiting for her to get up. Once she does, Nitz lures her into center ring and explodes with a spinning kick aimed for her head. Luckily, she ducks with a second to spare. Nitz twists over her, somehow landing on his feet. Elise sees this moment as now or never and dives, slamming an elbow into Donnelly's temple, dropping him like a bad habit. She limps over to a corner and climbs up, perching herself backwards on the top rope. Balance is not a given with her badly damaged knee, but she jumps anyway.


Cameras flash as she descends into the ring, twisting with grace normally reserved for someone who's not injured. She lands, making perfect contact...

... with empty canvas. Nitz rolls away just in time.


Elise immediately grabs her bad knee, rolling around in agony.

Nick: She went for broke with that move, knowing it would have put The Ego away.

Richard: Oh her poor leg. She's never gonna walk or dance the same again.

Donnelly doesn't waste time and grabs her bad leg, dragging her as close to center ring as he can get. Figuring enough damage has been done to her leg, he grabs her arms and drops, locking on a brutal AT Lock to an explosion of support from San Diego.

Richard: Don't tap out! For the love of god...

Nick: My colleague is praying for Elise Ares, but she's gonna need a miracle now. She can't move!

He's completely right. The crowd is hot and Elise is stuck, screaming in pain. Her face is turning a brought shade of red and her arm looks like they are about to break. She tries to move closer to ropes, but is unable to push off with her damaged knee.


A moment later and her face goes a disturbing shade of purple, but she has made absolutely no effort to tap out. Chants of hate fade away, replaced by screams. Nitz leans back with the hold, wrenching tighter.

Another moment passes and Elise is still conscious. Her hand is being used to try and pry free, but she doesn't make a move to end it by hitting the mat.

Nick: There could be some serious damage here! She's been locked in the hold for a good minute.

Richard: This is unspeakable! Where's a towel? Can I throw it in?

Nitz leans back even harder, trying to pry any life out of her body, but she refuses. She is surprising everyone with her resolve. Donnelly releases his hold, rolling away and settling to look at his opponent's twisted body.

Nick: How in the hell did she not tap out or pass out? That hold had to be unbearable!

Richard: She didn't want this guy to win. You'll have to kill her first.

Nick: Any longer in that hold and she would have been.

Nitz looks on in shock as Elise is fighting to turn her body into a position to get to her feet. People who once despised Ares are now clapping in appreciation of her never say die attitude. She has shown them heart most could never show in a lifetime. Donnelly himself looks humbled by this turn of events, showing a slight amount of admiration for Ares' effort. He decides to go for an ending and ascends a turnbuckle. Ares turns to her back. She partially sits up, but is blinded by another wave of flashbulbs. Air is forced from her body with impact brought on by a corkscrew 630 senton.


Richard: I think he did kill her now!




Newall puts two fingers high above his head. Elise barely got her right shoulder up in time. Nobody can believe they are seeing Elise Ares battle like such a warrior. Everybody is stunned: Fans, announcers, stagehands, Newall, and Donnelly.

Nick: I can't explain this! Nitz has thrown everything at Elise tonight and can't finish this match off. She doesn't tap for over two minutes in the AT Lock and now the corkscrew senton can't do the trick. Normal people wouldn't stand a chance!

Richard: Obviously Elise isn't normal. She's special and damnit she's gonna win!


Holy Shit is a warranted chant, one drenched in appreciation of Ares. She refuses to let this match die. Nitz is befuddled, shocked, appalled, and any other word in that category. He reaches down and drags Ares to her feet. He moves over to a corner and gives her a chop to her chest. Nobody elicits a Woo. Donnelly places an arm over her neck and lifts her onto the top turnbuckle.

Nick: Looks like he's setting things up for a superplex.

Richard: If he hits this...

Nick: There ain't no way she's getting up.

Ares has come back to life. She hits Donnelly in his grill with an elbow. He almost repels from the ropes, but hangs on, taking another shot. Donnelly leans back but doesn't let go, and uses one free hand to hold his back. He is straining to hang on and pressure applied to his back is almost unbearable.

She swings again, missing Donnelly this time. Nitz thinks quick and uses Ares' momentum to pull her off the turnbuckle. Ares stumbles, but doesn't fall on her face. She is able to turn. Donnelly climbs up to the top rope and leaps backward, twisting with absolute beauty. His moment is spotlighted by photographs capturing a maneuver where he locks his arms around her head. Both superstars crash hard.

Nick: My god! What impact! He just drilled her into the mat with a DDT, all the pressure of the corkscrew plowing her head first into the mat. The Sixth Sense has landed and now...

Richard is sobbing beside the ring. Donnelly shakes his head and makes the cover to the delight of the crowd.



Elise feels her body twitching. She is blinded by lights. All available energy has been removed from her being. She had a bit during Donnelly's AT Lock, some after a Senton, but not she has none. She can't escape. She has to deal with this fate. Normally, she would be upset, but for a strange reason embraces it.



Newall calls for the bell as Donnelly rolls away from Ares. Some celebration has been silenced due to Ares' urge to keep fighting for so long. While fans are pleased, they find themselves in awe of such determination displayed by The Swaggeriffic One.

Vince Howard: The winner of this bout...

A Very Swagtastic Ending



A deafening salute to his victory sounds off from San Diego as he's handed the title he never wanted or asked for, the unrecognized SWAGGER Championship. With a smirk on his face, he looks down at the championship Elise Ares had custom made for herself. It was quite possibly the only thing she cared about as much as herself, and he had it resting in his arms. Victory was sweet as he watched the Wolf Of Slaughter scrape herself up off the mat.

Nick: Big win for Nitz, he'd worked long and hard and went through absolute hell to get where he is today... but he came out on top.

Richard: I think we've learned a lot about Elise Ares today, too. She's got some tenacity.

Nick: It was a great showing by Elise Ares, who usually takes the easy way out, but tonight showed that she can work hard too.

Reaching into her back pocket, she stumbles over to Vince Howard who is trying to leave the ring. The group who first came to PRIME as Change In Spades looks over at her from the other side of the ring wondering what the blue hell she is up to. Grabbing Howard's attention, she waves a little black book in front of his face.

Nick: Is she trying to get his phone number?

Richard: Shut up!

Screaming over the sounds of "Eyesore" by Janus, she forces Vince to put the microphone up to his lips silencing triumphant power chords the crowd so badly wants to hear.

Vince Howard: I have just been shown in the official rule book of the SWAGGER Championship that...

"IT'S BROUGHT TO YOU BY PRADA!" is screaming from just beyond the microphone, easily picked up by everybody else. Vince greets this information with a sigh and continues.

Vince Howard: ...I have just been informed by the official rule book of the SWAGGER Championship, brought to you by PRADA, that an officially sanctioned match for the SWAGGER Championship cannot take place within the city limits of San Diego, California after 5pm Pacific Time.




Nick: WHAT?

Richard: I thought it was a little late to be defending that title!

Nick: In all my years in PRIME, THIS might be the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.

Richard: Give that title back to it's rightful owner! It's past curfew!

Nitz shakes his head in astonishment before shoving the title into Max Newall's arms. Newall stumbles back and rewards the championship back to Elise Ares, who holds herself up in the opposite corner with a smirk. Before Vince can leave, she rips the microphone out of his hand. She obviously has something on her mind.

Elise Ares: You might have won the battle Nitz, but you have FAR from won the war. You see my only goal when I joined PRIME was to seek out fame and fortune in front of a public who was dying to love me.


Richard: She speaks the truth!

Elise: You might be able to pin my shoulders to the mat and walk out of California with your head held high for accomplishing something in this tiny, little world... but what I've done is something much greater. You see I've already won the war. I've already done everything I've needed to do to accomplish my hopes and dreams. I kept my SWAGGER Championship, but more importantly...

A Cheshire grin crosses her face as she takes a deep breath.

Elise: I'm not leaving California at all. I'm staying right here, because before my match tonight I was approached by a big fan. A high powered Hollywood agent who told me that I was the woman he was looking for to take his career straight to the top. I was offered a big money contract to star in a movie... and I signed on the dotted line.

Confusion is the prevailing emotion in the crowd as Nitz glares back at her blankly, obviously not caring what she does in her personal time.

Elise: Long story short, PRIME... I'm better than you. I QUIT.


Richard: SHE QUIT?! NO!


Richard: How can you act so happy about this?

Nick: Because this might be the happiest day of my life!


Change In Spades celebrates as Elise Ares tosses the microphone and rolls out of the ring, grasping her SWAGGER Championship. It isn't long before Nitz gets up top to conduct San Diego in song just before she passes.


Elise Ares is completely oblivious to the chants as she marches up the aisle.


Pausing at the stage arena, it's almost as if she hears the fans and stops in her track. Listening to them sing, she takes a deep breath before turning around. Looking at a packed QC Stadium, she takes her final bow.


And with that, The Swaggeriffic One turned her back on PRIME fans for a second time tonight. With an unmistakable Swagger and a title on her shoulder to back it up, Elise Ares disappeared from the PRIME fans for quite possibly the very last time.

Tyler Rayne vs Skylar Montgomery

Nick Stuart: Ladies and gentlemen, coming up next we have the culmination of what has turned out to be nothing short of a blood feud.

Richard Parker: Every feud with Tyler Rayne turns out to be a blood feud. That man is a menace, and if it wasn’t for his precious Golden Contract, Shakur would have put him out on his ass a long time ago.

Nick Stuart: I don’t have any doubts about that. Regardless of what you think about The Underground Pimp, he did attempt to end Skylar Montgomery’s career at ReVolution 227. It’s hard to argue that retaliation from The Imaginary Man is anything less than deserved.

Richard Parker: It’s about damn time you saw the light.

An interesting choice of words. While the sun is lowering behind the San Diego skyline, the shadow of night is falling over Qualcomm Stadium. Darkness has begun to creep through the stadium, though floodlights around Qualcomm and the stage lights provided by PRIME offer illumination now that the sun does not. A power surge rushes through the half of the stadium usually reserved for home team fans. From the magnificent Colossus entrance to the seats where Nick and Richard are positioned, the lights dim and blink in succession. Each bulb dulls, then flashes out completely before powering back on, all in about the span of a second. The lights seem to hold steady after this initial wave. For a handful of seconds, at least, before the surge starts at the entrance again and then washes around the visitor’s side of Qualcomm.

Dim. Dull. Off. On.

Excitement begins to build around the stadium as whispers spread through the crowd. A low murmur of anticipation building across the enormous attendance in San Diego. The lights around the stadium come back up to normal levels and hold for another handful of seconds. Then the PRIME*View and the entire entrance stage darken completely. This is the epicenter, and the shockwave rushes through Qualcomm Stadium on both sides, sequentially knocking the lights out along the way. Ramp lights.

Ring lights. The flood lights above the stadium. Those dull safety lights on the backs of seats and on the aisles to help assist fans in the dark. The monitors on the announce table. The scoreboard and big screen in the back of the stadium. One after the other, lights flick out like tumbling dominos, until the entire stadium is shrouded in shadow.

Nick Stuart: No jokes about someone paying the power bill?

Richard Parker: Have I ever mentioned how much I hate this entrance?

Nick Stuart: You afraid of the dark, Rich?

Richard Parker: If it was a Volkswagen full of clowns, you’d be pissing yourself, Nick, so shut your damn hole.

Nick Stuart: Point taken.

The PRIME*View comes to life with a blinding flash of white. Three white words glowing up on the black background of the



Nick Stuart: That’s not quite what I was expecting.

The words on the screen pulse three times, as if they had a heartbeat. As if alive. Then slowly the words fade and from the mist left behind, an image begins to appear. The image is a mask, the same Juventud Guerrera mask that Skylar Montgomery has been wearing since ReVolution 227. It has become his most outward symbol of defiance. The visual representation of his will. This was the mask he was wearing the night Tyler Rayne tried to end his career. Tried and failed.

The image increases in size, looming larger and larger on the screen until the entire PRIME*View is filled with nothing but the most recent face of Skylar Montgomery. Fire burns in the empty eye holes of the mask. The same fire that burns within the man himself. The mask continues to grow larger. It now stretches beyond the bounds of the screen. Larger and larger and larger until there is nothing left but the flame. An image of fire, burning proud before the San Diego crowd.

The speakers in the stadium crackle with the sound of flame. There is also a soft buzzing sound. As the crackling of flames begins to lessen, the buzz strengthens into an electronic synthesizer. Strings can be heard behind the synth, creating a familiar but not quite recognizable melody. On screen, the flames have gone. Now there is only SkyMont, standing in the middle of the ring, microphone raised to his mouth. The words he speaks cannot be heard. There is only the music building slowly before the unmistakable voice of Maynard James Keenan soothes out of the speakers.

"You’re such an inspiration for the ways that I will never, ever choose to be."

A small cheer of approval rushes through the fans. The music is not the same, but the words certainly are. A Perfect Circle.

Judith. The electronic background implies a remix of some sort, (the Renholder Mix, to be specific)… but even if the pacing and music have been changed, there is no mistaking that voice. That song. The intent. The image of Skylar Montgomery raises his arm to emphasize a point, and just as he does so the screen flickers to old black and white footage of thousands and thousands of enthralled Germans. The stock video has been seen in every history class and World War II special since the sixties. It is ingrained in the social conscience. Though we cannot see the speaker to whom these people are so enraptured, we know damn well it is Adolf Hitler. Just as the realization settles in, the obviously edited video once again returns to Skylar Montgomery in the ring.

"Oh so many ways for me to show you how your savior has abandoned you."

The image changes to Skylar Montgomery doing his infamous crucifix pose.

"Fuck your God. Your Lord. Your Christ."

A quick flash of a large crucifix like one might find at the back of any church. Jesus Christ hanging on the cross. The two images are superimposed over each other, SkyMont on top, and then Jesus fades away and it’s just Montgomery doing his pose in the ring. The ring and the arena begin to fade, though the pose remains the same, and the image is now replaced with one from a few weeks ago. ReVolution 229. Skylar Montgomery, with steel chair in hand, posing over the crumpled and bleeding body of Tyler Rayne. The screen and music suddenly cut out with a loud pop. The crowd screams in surprise. There is darkness for a second before the image returns. Skylar Montgomery, with chair in hand, looming over the near unconscious body of Tyler

Rayne. The voice that now comes through the speakers is SkyMont’s.

"You’re gonna fight me through an injury of your own."

A burst of static and then the replay of Skylar smashing Tyler’s face with the steel chair.

"You’re gonna need to come down to the ring with bandages."

Another burst of static and the scene plays again. This time in slow motion. The camera has been zoomed closer so as to emphasize the explosion of blood on impact. The crack of the chair against his face. The splatter pattern of crimson. The single line of blood that trails up Skylar’s arm.

"You’re gonna need to cover and hide the wounds."

Tyler Rayne on the ground, covering his face. Blood seeps and pours through the cracks between his fingers. Pools beneath him.

"Tyler, at Colossus when we meet, you’re gonna have a taste of what it’s like to be me."

Skylar Montgomery standing victorious over the bleeding and broken Tyler Rayne.

"You’re gonna have to wear a mask."

The scene begins to fade. The background fades into darkness. The foreground fades into darkness. Everything fades to shadow, details unseen, except that Juventud Guerrera mask. Now brighter and more prominent than ever. The image erupts into flames. The entire scene engulfed in an inferno that brightens the stage and closest seats of the stadium. In the middle of the fire, just discernable amongst the flickering flame and shadow of smoke, is a scarred man. A warrior with no face. A skull.

Deformed. Broken. The ring gear is an immediate match to that of Tyler Rayne. The scars an unmistakable giveaway. The face of the man in the fire is not the sexual tyrannosaurus known and loved throughout the world, though. It is the face of a monster. A demon. The disfigured and disgusting visage of a creature wrought from the very depths of Hell. The image is enough to give his more loyal fans quite the rousing. Though the number of people cheering might be smaller than expected, the volume of their adoration is much more than would be expected of such a small number. This is the face that made him famous. The face that carved a blood-soaked trail through the world of professional wrestling before Tyler Rayne ever stepped foot in PRIME. This is the face of Death.

The video changes again. Reverting back to that backstage scene from the last ReVolution. Frozen on Skylar Montgomery in mid-swing. The music kicks back in as suddenly as it vanished, and with it, the frozen image plays the vicious scene of Skylar’s attack.

"It’s not like you killed someone."

Another quick cut. This one of Tyler Rayne launching himself across the top of the PRIME*View. He hits Skylar Montgomery full force with the point of his knees, and the Avant Garde is knocked from the top of the structure.

"It’s not like you drove a hateful spear into his side."

An all too familiar image for some. Jim Caviezel in Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ. Stabbed with a spear.

Skylar Montgomery smashing Tyler Rayne’s face with a chair. Tyler Rayne knocking Skylar Montgomery from the top of the

PRIME*View. The images replay again. Faster.

Spear. Chair. Knees. Spear.

"Praise the one who left you broken down and paralyzed."

Skylar Montgomery standing over the broken, crumpled form of Tyler Rayne. Tyler Rayne sitting on the edge of the PRIME*View scaffolding, watching as Skylar Montgomery crashes through stage below. The music begins to pick up. A withering electronic repeating in the background almost reminiscent of machine guns.

"He did it all for you."

The last word skips and repeats in time with the automatic weapons fire of the synthesizer. The images of Tyler Rayne and Skylar Montgomery looming over each other’s demise are transposed on the screen. Side by side. One bleeding into the other until the screen is just a blur of blood and carnage.

It blacks out at the precise moment that the music ends. An explosion of pyro from the stage blasts fire into the air as high as the PRIME*View itself. Then we’re back to an image of The Avant Garde in the ring. Microphone near his mask, he raises his free arm to prompt the crowd into whatever catch phrase he was trying to pander that evening. The audio, however, has been replaced with a different quote. One from ReVolution 229. The accented voice of Skylar Montgomery rings through Qualcomm

Stadium once again.

"Death to PRIME!"

More stock footage from World War II. An army of Nazis marching through the streets of Berlin.

"Death to PRIME!"

The devastation after the attack on Pearl Harbor.

"Death to PRIME!"

The explosion of the atomic bomb at Hiroshima. The light continues to intensify from the explosion. Burning brighter and brighter until the PRIME*View is bathing the stadium in blinding white light. In succession, each of the lights around the stadium burst to life at the highest possible intensity. The white wash burns for a handful of seconds before slowly fading, though the spots in the eyes of fans and PRIMEates alike will take much longer to fade.

Nick Stuart: What was that?

Richard Parker: Lights, Nick. They’re called lights.

Nick Stuart: No. I thought I saw something run by.

Richard Parker: How can you see anything? I think I’ve gone blind.

The stadium is enveloped in darkness once again. Both announcers are attempting to recover their vision. As are most other people in Qualcomm.

Nick Stuart: There it is again!

He points over to Richard’s left as a shadow races between the announce table and the timekeeper’s station. More shadows and a whoosh of air on either side of the announcers has them both spinning about to get a better look.

Richard Parker: The hell is going on?

Two of the shadows leap deftly up to the ring, literally running across the ring ropes with some sort of tarp spread between them. The figures are almost impossible to see in the darkness. Their black garb conceals them almost to the point of making them invisible. The shadows leap down from the ring, securing the ends of their tarp to the bottom of each ring post. Two more shadows slip through the crowd, the shocked exclamations of unexpecting fans announcing their arrival. The two shadows rush in and secure the tarp to the ring posts closest to the announce table, making sure the sheet that now covers across the top of the ring is tied as taut as possible.

Richard Parker: Are those… no. Couldn’t be.

Nick Stuart: I think those were ninjas, Rich.

Richard Parker: Did you not just hear me say ‘couldn’t be’?

A single spotlight appears in the middle of the stage. A large circle of brightness illuminating a figure that, just moments ago, was not there at all. The figure is hidden beneath a black cloak, hood pulled over to conceal his face. The hooded apparition sits atop a white horse. The suave voice of Michael Biehn creeps through the sound system.

"Behold the pale horse. The man who sat upon him was Death. And Hell followed with him."


The whole of Qualcomm Stadium explodes at the unofficial announcement of their hero’s arrival. The fans in San Diego continue to scream and cheer as black-clad figures slither out of the shadows of the arena. Seeming to appear from nowhere, dozens upon dozens of ninjas begin to flitter through the crowd on their way down to ringside. Each of the lithe warriors is shrouded in the traditional dark cloth of their secret profession, covered from head to toe in darkness. The slight difference being that the top half of every face is covered with an extra mask, fitted beneath the hood, shaped like a deformed skull. The mask is just a shade or two off white. Some of them are burned or scored along one side or another.

Cracks and missing pieces mar each mask, but always in different places. Each is unique, yet obviously the same. The ninjas filter through the crowd with skilled precision, circumventing the mass of fans without so much as a graze, even when the more excited Californians reach out to try and touch them. The shadow army leaps over the barrier and begins to form a circle around the ring, leading back up to the stage. The entrance ramp stretches damn near fifty yards, which affords a lot of room for the rather small ninjas to line up. Dark figures continue to filter through the crowd, numbers reaching up near probably a hundred. The original four remain close to the ring post where they secured the stretched sheet across the ring ropes.

After about five or six minutes, the quiet hustle of soft footsteps ceases. The movement and surging of the crowd slows. It would seem that the massive army of ninja warriors has collected.

Richard Parker: That is a lot of friggin’ ninjas.

The dark-clad assassins have encircled the ring, lined themselves up along both sides of the ramp, filtered out to wrap around the giant stage, leaving the hooded figure on the white horse open in the middle, and even managed to climb up and post themselves along the top and scaffolding of the PRIME*View. Which, speaking of, the giant screen has once again come to life with the gruesome scene from ReVolution 229. Tyler Rayne lies bloodied on the ground. Crimson fluid pours through his fingers as he clutches the remnants of his face. The voice of Skylar Montgomery mocks him from above.

"Tyler, at Colossus when we meet, you’re gonna have a taste of what it’s like to be me."

The Avant Garde stands above his victim victoriously. Proud. Dominant.

"You’re gonna have to wear a mask."

The hooded figure slides itself from off the horse, stepping up to the center of the stage, just at the very start of the ramp, and dramatically throws back its hood to reveal the mask of MDK. The disfigured visage of a violent sociopath that Tyler Rayne hid beneath for over a decade. The persona with which he claimed his fame.

"You’re gonna have a taste of what it’s like to be me. You’re gonna have to wear a mask."

Those loyal fans who remember the days before PRIME quickly start up the chant, and it doesn’t take long for the rest of the thousands in Qualcomm to catch on.

M-D-K! M-D-K! M-D-K! M-D-K! M-D-K! M-D-K! M-D-K! M-D-K! M-D-K! M-D-K! M-D-K! M-D-K!

The masked figure raises its right hand high in the air, extending the index finger in a gesture of silence. These are his people. His most loyal followers. They obey with surprising speed. A hushed wave falls over the capacity crowd and the collected San Diego audience waits in breathless anticipation as the man reaches a gloved hand beneath this chin to grasp at the bottom of the mask. In one quick motion the mask is ripped away, revealing the person beneath. Blazing red hair flashes out, now freed of the confines of the cloth. The unmasked ginger shakes its head, runs both hands through the unexpected shock of hair, and turns a million dollar smile out to San Diego. The crowd gasps as a single unit, as if Qualcomm Stadium were one shocked entity, and then falls into a moment of silence.

Nick Stuart: That’s not Tyler Rayne.

Richard Parker: It most certainly is not.

Nick Stuart: It’s… it’s…


The silence does not last long. It takes a moment for the gathered masses to recover from their moment of surprise, but now that they have, it’s all out excitement.

Nick Stuart: It’s Angelica Brooks! She’s… she’s back!

Sure enough, the former PRIME interview monkey has made her return in spectacular fashion. Her hair is a little longer than when she was seen last time. Almost shoulder length. Angelica continues to beam a smile as bright and beautiful as the Aurora Borealis. She is dazzling. If possible, more gorgeous than her last appearance on a PRIME show. Months of modeling and not getting powerbombed on top of cars can be good for a girl’s complexion, it seems. She grasps at the robe clasped around her chest and tears it away with dramatic flair, revealing the impressive physique beneath. Her hands and forearms are still covered in the black gloves and grieves of the ninja. With the exception of a very small black strap of fabric wrapped around her torso, both to hold her breasts in place and cover the more objectionable pieces of her anatomy, her entire upper body is free and open to public perusal. Abs of steel, a relatively darker skin tone for a redhead. Thin. Stunning. She’s wearing a very small bit garment that somehow passes for underwear. Close to the same amount of fabric as her top. It sits tight just below the waistline, wide enough to cover the things that should be covered, but not much more than that. There is very little left to the imagination. The black leather boots she wears rise up to just above her knees. The audience, particularly the male members of the audience, are going wild. She is a strange cross between dominatrix and ninja… but all sorts of hot.

Richard Parker: Well… she looks good.

Nick Stuart: Need to change your pants, Rich?

Richard Parker: Lucky for me, I never wear pants behind this desk.


Angelica Brooks raises one hand straight out in front of her, unable to wipe the widening smile from her face, makes a gun out of her thumb and index finger… and shoots the ring. Four columns of fire erupt from the ring posts, rising twenty feet in the air. As the columns of flame lessen, a large metal rod is left in their wake. Four poles stretching up from each corner of the ring. The crowd is beginning to stir again, wondering what this new development will bring. Angelica stretches both arms out to her side, fingers on each hand pointed like guns… and fires. An entire wall of flame erupts behind her. The inferno dies down, leaving behind six metal rods about ten feet tall, spaced evenly across the stage. Angelica brings her arms in closer now, about shoulder length apart and a foot or so from her torso. She winks out at the salivating San Diego crowd and performs her final trick. A snap of the fingers and each of the ninjas explodes in a cloud of black smoke. The black-clad warriors are lost behind the haze and confusion. Some of the fans with better eyesight can still see the outline of the ninjas behind each smoke cloud. All of them with decent hearing are cued to the familiar guitar riff scratching out of the speakers.


The clouds of smoke are beginning to dissipate, but the gathered masses are much more concerned with the location of their hero. Qualcomm Stadium is buzzing with barely contained anticipation. Twenty seconds pass and the smoke is all but gone. A few of the more observant fans begin to scream and cheer at the reemergence of the ninjas, but their excitement is lost in the absolute explosion of San Diego in the next second.

"What What What HIT IT!"

The music pauses. Angelica Brooks points up to the highest point in the crowd. All the way at the far back of the stadium, behind the announce table, in the cheapest damn seats available. Spotlights illuminate the area, and sure enough, The Hero of the Day is there, in all his scarred glory.


Tyler Rayne flashes his infamous smile and the crowd erupts again. The thousands in attendance have all risen to their feet, now surging as one giant wave of humanity in his direction. He stretches his arms out wide and a dozen hands reach out to grab him. Just for one chance to touch his body. There is a wound across his forehead held together by about half a dozen stitches. The scar left from SkyMont’s vicious attack. The Underground Pimp mimics the same gesture Angelica Brooks had used just moments earlier. He places both arms out in front of him, shoulder width apart, winks at the gathered masses of San Diego, and snaps his fingers.

The music starts up right where it left off. The lights around the ring are now bright. Red and purple lasers shoot off into the San Diego night in time with the guitar. Strobe lights flash in time with the bass line. As for the ninjas…

Oh god damn, the ninjas.

What was once a well-concealed army of assassins is now a near-naked collection of wonderful female specimens. Each of them retains, in essence, a similar costume to Angelica Brooks. The same black glove and grieves combination. The same just above the knee pair of black boots. The hundred or so ninjas also retain the black cloth that wraps around the bottom portions of their faces, concealing their mouths, chins, and sometimes noses (depending on the girl).

The hair comes in every variety and color imaginable. Black. Brunette. Blonde. Red. There are even a couple girls with shaved heads. One with a white streak in her bangs, like Rogue. Purple streaks. Blue streaks. An orange mohawk. Long, luxurious locks. Short cropped bobs. Ponytails. Pigtails. French braids. One girl with the Princess Leia buns on the side of her head.

None of them are wearing anything on top except the gloves that cover their hands and arms. Glorious, topless female nudity.

All ranges and sizes of women. Some of them are athletic. Well-built women with defined muscles. Women that obviously spend time in the gym. Some of them are your average, every day woman. Not so much with the definition, but still fine specimens of the female gender. Tattoos. Piercings. Pale skin. Tan skin. African. Asian. Caucasian. Hispanic. Mid Eastern. A-cups. B-cups. C-cups. D-cups. G-strings. Thongs. Your average, every day panties. Lace. Silk. At least one pair of edible undies. Some with hearts printed on them. Some with skulls. Unicorns. Cute little monkeys. Penguins. Some are not wearing any underwear at all. Whatever your fantasy, whatever your type… whatever gets you off… there’s a girl out there representing it. And you had best believe she is shaking her ass. Girls on top of the PRIME*View. Girls hanging from the sides of the PRIME*View. Girls dancing on stage. Girls working the poles on stage. Girls shakin’ it all along the fifty yards of entrance ramp. Touching each other. Touching the men in the front row. Touching the women in the front row.

The crowd is going fucking ballistic. The four ninjas that had been standing near the ring corners have now ascended those poles that sprouted from each post. Two of the girls leap from the posts and onto the sheet spread across the top of the ring. The tarp is pulled so taut that it acts like a springboard, or a trampoline. Each girl takes a single bounce, tearing away what remains of their masks. They meet in midair, embrace, kiss for about three seconds, then release each other for a safe landing and another bounce to the unoccupied poles.

Richard Parker: This is the greatest entrance in Colossus history.

Nick Stuart: I don’t think I’ve seen this many naked women in my whole life.

Richard Parker: I haven’t seen this many naked women in my whole life, and I spend most of my free time looking up porn on the internet.

Nick Stuart: I didn’t need to know that.

Richard Parker: Don’t check your browser history, then.

Tyler Rayne is pushing his way through the pulsing crowd. Those that aren’t totally distracted by the jiggling boobs everywhere are surging toward him. He stops to share an offered beer with a group of soldiers in uniform. Tyler turns, points to a group of young woman wearing Rayne Dancer t-shirts a few rows down, and immediately the girls flash the soldiers. The crowd explodes. High-fives all around. Tyler continues pushing his way down, but stops down at that collection of girls. The short brunette bursting out of her bra offers him a Sharpie, and never one to deny a fan, Tyler commits to autographing her cleavage. He takes the pen with him and jostles down another few rows before an elderly woman, can’t be less than the high side of seventy, stops him and, with the help of a few of her geriatric friends, rips her shirt off. She didn’t even bother to wear a bra. Or maybe she just forgot. Tyler shrugs and scrawls his name across her wrinkly, sagging breasts. Another couple of rows are successfully navigated before he is stopped once again. This time by a well-polished, well-kept man in a rainbow Chandler Tsonda t-shirt. The attractive young man rips his shirt off and smiles. Tyler shakes his head but does the deed anyway, scratching his autograph across the man’s rock hard pecs.

TY-LER RAYNE! *clapclap clapclapclap* TY-LER RAYNE! *clapclap clapclapclap*

Angelica Brooks is walking down the ramp toward ringside. She gets a few wolf whistles and cheers along the way. More than a few of the strippers have climbed up on the barrier. Some are grinding it in a very suggestive fashion. Some are just dancing on top of it. Two girls on top of the PRIME*View are making out something fierce. The girls in the ring are still doing their acrobatic thing. Again they jump at each other, one turns 180 degrees before the other catches her, a momentary embrace suggesting some fine oral ecstasy, before the release and both women somersault into the next bounce, up on the empty poles, and spin.

Jumping. Twirling. Swinging. Grinding. Dancing.

Live. Nude. Girls.

Nick Stuart: This is absolute anarchy.

Brooks squeezes her way through the gyrating bodies and over near the announce table, where she exchanges a few words with

Vince Howard. The two smile and hug, she even plants a little kiss on his cheek before taking his microphone.



Angelica Brooks: The following Colossus contest is scheduled for ONE FALL. Introducing first… born in the great state of CALIFORNIA…


Angelica Brooks: He now hails from the world’s most BAD ASS fucking nightclub in TOKYO, JAPAN… The Underground Pimp… The LONGEST REIGNING 5*Star Champion in PRIME History… YOUR Hero… MY Hero… The Most Desired Man in PRIME… The Self-Proclaimed PRIME Minister and The Sexiest Mother Fucker to EVER Walk A Colossus Aisle… THE ONE… THE ONLY… TYLER…




The crowd is deafening. The whole of Qualcomm Stadium shudders beneath the vibrations of their fervent praise. The man himself finally pushes his way through the crowd, sliding over the barrier just behind the announce table. With all eyes now on The Second Coming, very few people seem to notice that the naked ninjas are silently making an exit, disappearing back into the shadows from which they came. The tarp, the poles, the girls… all vanish in a handful of moments while Tyler gives his dear friend Angelica a warm embrace. He shakes hands with Vince Howard, knuckle bumps and high-fives all across the front row, then slides in under the ropes to enter the ring. Angelica Brooks takes a seat between Vince Howard and the time keeper.

Tyler raises a hand in the air, eliciting one last massive roar from the crowd before he hops up on the top turnbuckle and sits to patiently await his opponent.

Nick Stuart: Well I don’t know how Skylar’s going to follow up an entrance like that.

Richard Parker: No one can follow up an entrance like that! Boobs! Everywhere!

Skylar Montgomery walks out, giving everybody a middle finger. He walks down the aisle. It's not a flashy entrance. He gets in the ring.

Richard: ...Rayne wins. It pains me to say that.

Skylar Montgomery stands fidgeting in his corner. He bounces on the balls of his feet. Shakes his arms loose. Rolls his necks. Stretches his fingers. Despite all the movement, his eyes never leave those of his opponent. Tyler Rayne watches from across the ring, sitting atop the turnbuckle, unmoving. He matches the hardened gaze of his opponent, but otherwise remains still. The referee steps to the center of the ring and points to each man in turn. Both men nod to acknowledge their readiness. The ref takes one big step back from the center of the ring and motions for the start of the match.

Ding! Ding!

Skylar charges across the ring. Tyler slides down from the turnbuckle and takes two steps forward to meet his opponent. SkyMont leaps into the air with a jumping forearm that Rayne easily sidesteps. Skylar’s feet hit the ground just a moment later. He catches his balance and lashes out with a wild back kick to keep Rayne at distance. He spins and swings wildly with a right hand, but Rayne is out of range. The Underground Pimp takes a few steps back to widen the distance between them. Skylar forces himself to gain some composure, slowing to match Rayne’s more relaxed pose. Rayne plants both his feet firm on the ground and raises both hands into the generally accepted collar-and-elbow tie-up pose. Skylar nods and both men step forward meet on common ground. Just before the lock-up, Rayne snaps his elbow and cracks Skylar across the mask with a disrespectful slap. SkyMont reels back from the unexpected attack, rubbing his jaw.

Nick Stuart: Should have known these two weren’t going to play nice.

Richard Parker: That’s because Tyler Rayne is an asshole.

Nick Stuart: You liked him when all those naked girls were here.

Richard Parker: Well they’re not here now, so he’s back to being an asshole.

Rayne offers a cocky grin in apology. SkyMont growls and charges forward. The two meet up with the collar-and-elbow this time, practically crashing into each other to force the lock-up. Tyler pushes and jostles to maneuver SkyMont to the left. He wins the battle of strength for a handful of steps, backing Skylar back toward the ropes, but then SkyMont takes charge and swings the battle in his favor. Rayne is pushed back into the ropes, but plants his heels solidly and uses SkyMont’s continuing momentum to retake the advantage. Both men switch power positions a few more times, rolling their way down the ropes until Rayne ends up back into the turnbuckle. Neither man is willing to release the lock-up, though, and the referee has to squeeze himself between their bodies to physically separate them. Skylar backs away, hands up in the air as a gesture of surrender, but flashes his arm out and catches Rayne by surprise with a slap of his own. The referee jumps up, pointing and chastising so as to back Skylar into the center of the ring. Rayne waits in the corner, capitalizing on this moment to squelch some of his anger.

The two meet up in the center of the ring again. Another collar-and-elbow. Skylar steps forward, decreasing the distance between them. Rayne attempts to back up to keep the separation even, but SkyMont has a firm grip. Skylar closes within striking distance and lifts his head, unintentionally catching Rayne under the jaw with a headbutt. Rayne reels back. SkyMont rushes forward, this time catching a dazed and distracted Rayne with the jumping forearm. Rayne hits the ropes and bounces back, right into a deep knee to the gut. Rayne stumbles back into the ropes and Skylar is all over him. Knife-edge chop across the chest. Right hook. Left hook. Uppercut. Knee to the abdomen. Another knee. Forearm to the side of the head. Skylar tries to whip Rayne across the ring, but Rayne plants his feet for the reversal and whips SkyMont in the opposite direction.

Skylar plants himself, too, yanks Rayne in and hooks him for a spinning belly-to-belly suplex. Skylar dashes across the ring, bounding off the ropes in the time it takes Rayne to pick himself up, and knocks The Underground Pimp back to the canvas with a jumping calf kick. Rayne stumbles to his feet as SkyMont is already dashing off the ropes again. Skylar trips up over his own feet, running faster than he can keep up with, but recovers with a somersault and blasts Rayne across the chest with a rolling clothesline. Rayne stumbles into the ropes once again, staggers forward into Skylar’s waiting arms and is flipped back to the mat with a snap suplex. Skylar rolls through and mounts Rayne, then begins unleashing with a torrent of punches to the face.

Nick Stuart: Looks like Skylar’s going to try and bust open those stitches.

Richard Parker: Smart move. It’ll be hard for Rayne to fight back with blood in his eyes.

Rayne brings his arms up to try and cover his face, but the punches are coming down fast and fierce. He rolls to one side or another to avoid the blows. That doesn’t help much, so he stops and just covers his face with his forearms and takes the beating. A series of about six or seven sequential punches come down before Rayne figures out the timing. After the seventh punch, Rayne pops a quick rabbit jab into the bottom of Skylar’s jaw. Just enough to catch The Imaginary Man off-guard. Rayne rolls back on his shoulders a little, somehow bringing his legs up under Skylar’s shoulders, and then rolls back forward for a surprise pin.



SkyMont claps both feet on the side of Rayne’s head to force him to release the pin. Both men roll out and stand to their feet. They charge again. Rayne drops low, slides behind Skylar, slips an arm around SkyMont’s thigh and drags him over for the roll up.


Much quicker kick-out this time. Again they meet. Skylar drops low and drives a shoulder deep into Rayne’s abdomen. Rayne takes the blow in stride, retaliates with a rising knee to Skylar’s own abdomen, then hooks SkyMont up for a Fisherman’s suplex. Bridge. Pin.



SkyMont lurches out. Both men up. Collar-and-elbow. Skylar switches to control with a side headlock. Rayne wraps both arms around Skylar’s waist and lifts. Back suplex. Bridge. Pin.



Skylar’s out again. He slams his hand down on the mat before standing up this time, obviously frustrated. Rayne smiles. Rayne moves in for the tie-up again. One too many times. Skylar ducks under and wraps around Tyler from behind. Rayne with a back elbow. Two. Three. Skylar’s grip loosens. Rayne does a quick turn and puts himself in the dominant position from behind (a move he learned from Tsonda, no doubt), locks his hands and lifts SkyMont into the bridging German suplex.


Somehow, in all his frustration, Skylar gets to his feet before Rayne. SkyMont charges in and tackles Rayne, sweeping The Underground Pimp from his feet. Rayne hits the ground hard and Skylar is back to those vicious blows to the head. He doesn’t have great position, though, and Rayne is able to roll him over, take the mount, and unleash a flurry of his own punches to Skylar’s head. Rayne moves forward, using his knees to pin down Skylar’s biceps in a very compromising position. While many of the women in attendance might love to be in that position, Skylar certainly does not. Especially when it means his shoulders are down again.


Skylar gets both legs up to kick Rayne in the back. It isn’t a hard blow, but enough to loosen the hold and allow SkyMont to slip out. He rises up behind Tyler before he can turn around and cracks a spin kick across the back of Rayne’s head. Rayne staggers to his feet. Release half-Nelson suplex from Skylar. Rayne stumbles to his feet, clutching at the back of his neck.

Skylar with a kick to the gut. Rayne doubled over. Front facelock.

Nick Stuart: Looks like Skylar might be going for that Evenflow DDT.

He might. Then again he might be getting flipped over into a bridging Northern Lights suplex.


Skylar with a punch to the ribs to break up the pin. He rolls up, meets Rayne with a forearm shiver, another to get them closer to the center of the ring, then whips Rayne into the ropes. Skylar ducks down for the back body toss, but he telegraphs his move too soon. Rayne hops over for the easy roll-up.


A heel to the top of the head breaks up the pin. Skylar groans in frustration but rolls away. Rayne is holding the top of his head, still sitting, which gives SkyMont a fine opportunity to blast him in the face with a rushing push kick. Skylar drags Rayne to his feet and whips him into the turnbuckle. Skylar rushes in right behind, but Rayne slides out beneath the bottom rope. Skylar stops himself before he hits the turnbuckle, but can’t stop the hand around his ankle sweeping his feet out from under him. Rayne leaps up to the apron and then the top turnbuckle in quick succession. SkyMont is back to his feet in the same time Rayne has perched himself up top. Rayne leaps off, jumping over Skylar and rolls up The Imaginary Man with a sunset flip.



Skylar with another kick-out. This time he immediately rolls to the outside of the ring, slamming his hands down across the apron in frustration. Rayne is up on his feet, holding the back of his head and neck from the scattered offense he suffered, but flashing a pleased smile in his opponent’s direction. SkyMont growls and kicks at the ring skirt, then pounds the apron again with his open palms. Again and again and again.


Nick Stuart: Skylar might not like the game Rayne is playing, but the fans sure seem to.

Richard Parker: It’s obvious Rayne was just messing with him. All those pin attempts. Like I said before, he’s an asshole.

Nick Stuart: Could be, but he’s obviously taken the psychological advantage in this match.

SkyMont continues to pace outside of the ring while the referee administers his count. One of the more vocal Rayne fans in the front row is harassing Skylar with some rather risque comments about his mother and the nature of their relationship. That is to say, Tyler’s relationship with Skylar’s mother, and what sexual positions that may or may not entail. Rayne can hear just enough of the shenanigans to get a good laugh out of it. The referee’s count is up to six. Skylar keeps turning back, struggling to keep from unleashing his frustrations on the fan. Instead he slides back into the ring at eight, stands up, flips Rayne the bird, and slides back out.


Skylar stalks over to the announce table, wild eyes searching the area for… ah. There. He snatches an empty steel chair from beside Vince Howard and rushes back toward ringside. The referee has been watching this whole time, though, and meets SkyMont on the ring apron to argue about the chair. Skylar tries to duck inside the ring, but the referee blocks his progression.

Skylar stands on the ring apron, holding the chair up, yelling back at the referee. The referee tries to grab the chair and now both of them are pulling and tugging to take possession of the potential weapon. Rayne stands a few feet back, watching with obvious impatience. He takes a step forward to say something to the referee, when Skylar suddenly lets go of the chair. The referee stumbles backward, still pulling on the chair since he wasn’t expecting the release. The chair flips up behind the referee and actually cracks Rayne across the dome. SkyMont leaps up to the top rope for a springboard, looking to take advantage. The referee jumps to the side when he sees Skylar jumping from the rope. Both men lose their balance. The referee hits the canvas and the steel chair is sent sliding into the far corner. Skylar recovers well enough to turn his attempted springboard clothesline into a diving tackle. He rises at the same time as Rayne, but catches Tyler with a spinning kick to the gut. This time when he hooks the front facelock, Skylar connects with the Evenflow DDT. He rolls Rayne over onto his back, pauses for just a second as he contemplates going for the cover, then springs up, gets a bounding run from the ropes and gets a final shot in with the flip senton legdrop. Skylar hooks the leg…



Rayne throws an arm up. Skylar up to his feet and looking to drag Rayne up with him. A punch to the ribcage puts an end to that. Another loosens Skylar’s hold all together. Rayne rises with a European uppercut that staggers Skylar toward center ring. Rayne follows with two vicious snap kicks to the ribs. Skyler can’t help but favor his right side now. Rayne spins and blasts Skylar from the left with a Roaring Elbow. Skylar falls to a knee. Rayne with a knee to the side of the mask. And another. He drags a stunned SkyMont to his feet and whips him into the turnbuckle. Rayne follows up with a spear so deep it slumps Skylar up over Rayne’s shoulder. Rayne muscles his masked nemesis up to the top turnbuckle, climbs after him, and hooks SkyMont up for a big vertical suplex. Both men slam into the mat hard. Skylar is dazed. Rayne rolls through the suplex and back up to his feet, wincing for just a second. He takes two quick steps forward and blasts Skylar in the face with a front-seated dropkick. SkyMont back down on the canvas. Rayne pushes himself to his feet, knowing he has a bit of time to burn now. He positions himself at SkyMont’s side, his back to the downed opponent, offers a wink to one of the fine young women in the front row, and backflips into the standing moonsault. Rayne gets right back up, now standing on the other side of Skylar, still facing the same young woman, blows her a kiss, and splashes down on Skylar with a standing Shooting Star Press.



Skylar shudders just enough to get a shoulder up. Rayne rises to his feet and then bends to bring Skylar up, too. SkyMont throws a couple of weak punches in a futile attempt to fight his attacker off. Rayne takes the blows in stride, snatches Skylar in a double-underhook, lifts and then flips for a modified double-underhook backbreaker. SkyMont comes down across Rayne’s knee more on his neck and shoulders than his back, though. Rayne stands and launches a stiff kick into Skylar’s spine. The Avant Garde lurches up to his feet from the sting of the attack. He turns, flailing at Rayne, and stumbles back into the corner. Rayne follows in and takes a stronger than expected shot to the jaw. SkyMont follows up with a kick to the left knee. And another. Rayne staggers. Skylar bursts out of the corner with a clothesline. There isn’t a lot of power behind it, but it’s enough to take Rayne from his feet. Rayne is right back up. And immediately met with another lariat. This time he’s down harder and Skylar turns to drop a few quick stomps down on Rayne’s shoulder and chest. Skylar moves down the body and stomps on Rayne’s left knee a couple times, too. Rayne rolls away to protect his knee. Skylar runs to the far ropes, comes back and hits Rayne in the ribs with the sliding baseball dropkick. Rayne is knocked out under the bottom rope and falls to the outside hard.

Nick Stuart: Montgomery beginning to build some offense here.

SkyMont slides outside after his opponent and snatches Rayne up by the hair. Rayne fights back with an elbow to the midsection. Skylar is staggered. The referee’s count is at two. Skylar with a right hand. Rayne with a left forearm. Right hook. Left forearm. Right. Left. Skylar goes back to that kick to the knee and swiftly follows with a knee to the midsection. He hooks Rayne around the shoulders, grabs his arm, and then spins, whipping Rayne into the steel stairs.


Rayne crashes legs first into the stairs, knocking the top half from their position and rolling sort of half over. Skylar slides back into the ring at the seven count, jumps to his feet and flips off the crowd.


SkyMont watches as Tyler drags himself up using the barricade. A couple of fans actually reach over and help pull him to his feet. Rayne nods in appreciation then stumbles forward into the apron. He grabs the ropes and slowly begins to pull himself up. Skylar stalks over to the turnbuckle and climbs up to the top, perching. Waiting. Rayne uses the ropes to regain a full vertical position on the ring apron, though he’s still dazed. Too dazed to notice what Skylar is up to. SkyMont dives from the top rope and comes crashing down on the back of Rayne’s head with a guillotine leg drop. Rayne’s neck is forced down across the top rope. Skylar falls into the ring as the ropes spring back and launch Rayne from the apron. He slams back first into the barricade. Skylar looks out at his opponent and smiles. He slides out of the ring, picks Rayne up from off the ground, and rolls him back in. Skylar snatches another handful of Rayne’s hair and drags him to his feet. Rayne shoves him away. Skylar comes back with a quick and wild punch. Rayne ducks underneath, hooks an arm over Skyler’s chest, and slams him down to the mat with an STO. Both men stumble to their feet. Rayne with a kick to the gut. He scoops Skylar up onto his shoulders for the Fireman’s carry, then flips him back down and drops the back of Skylar’s neck across his outstretched knee.

Skylar is down on the mat, clutching the back of his neck. Rayne realizes too late that it wasn’t the smartest move to drop a full grown man down on his left knee. He scoots back against the ropes, clutching at his knee.

Nick Stuart: Both men starting to sustain some injuries here. With all the brutality that led up to this match, though, we can’t be too surprised that they’d come in nursing some previous wounds.

Rayne hobbles to his feet and limps over to where Skylar is trying to push himself up. He drags Skylar to his feet and whips him into the far turnbuckle. SkyMont slams into the corner. Rayne rushes after him, launching himself into the air with both knees forward. The last time Skylar saw this, he was thrown from the top of the PRIME*View. Not something he wishes to experience again. Skylar ducks at the last second. Rayne’s knees slam into the top turnbuckle. He groans in pain and drops to the canvas. Skylar slides outside and pulls himself up on the apron. Rayne staggers to his feet, confused. He turns just in time to see Skylar running across the apron and takes the rushing lariat at full force. Rayne drops to the mat and rolls a bit away from his attacker. SkyMont turns back the way he come and scurries up to the top turnbuckle, jumping off while he has time to capitalize. Rayne rolls onto his back just as Skylar is completing his flip. Swanton Bomb full force across Rayne’s chest.

Richard Parker: Beautiful move from SkyMont!

Skylar scrambles to hook the leg.




Richard Parker: NO!

Rayne throws an arm into the air just before the ref’s hand hits the mat. Skylar turns and begins shouting at the referee. The referee shouts back, insisting that his count is legit. The two argue for a bit as Rayne begins to stir. Skylar growls at the referee, but turns his attention back to Rayne. For the moment, he can’t think of much else to do, so just locks a sleeper hold on the sitting Rayne. Rayne tries to squirm out, but Skylar's got it locked in tight, so that doesn't seem to do much. Instead Rayne pushes himself to his feet. Skylar doesn't have the necessary strength advantage nor energy reserves to stop him, though. Rayne gets to his feet, reaches up to grab Skylar around the top of the head, and drops down with a jawbreaker. Skylar falls back, releasing the hold. Rayne is slow to his feet. By the time he gets up, Skylar is already coming back for more. Sky leads with that kick to the knee again, but Rayne figured it was coming and sidesteps. He sweeps Skylar's feet out from under him, then leaps and hits a rolling senton. Rayne hobbles to his feet and waits for Skylar to get back up before catching him right under the chin with a superkick. SkyMont stumbles back into the ropes, and springs forward, dazed. Rayne with the kick to the gut, then hooks Skylar up in the air for the Small Package Driver.

Nick Stuart: SkyMont about to get Varga'd!

The Imaginary Man isn't completely out of it yet, though. He wiggles a leg free and drops a knee straight down on Rayne's dome. Rayne staggers but tries to keep his victim lofted, but the second knee splits the seam on those stitches. Skylar falls to the canvas, managing to at least land on his knees. Rayne staggers back, putting a hand to his wound to try and staunch the blood.

Richard Parker: And now it's all over.

Skylar rushes in while Rayne is blinded with the blood and hits him a leaping elbow to the top of the head. Blood spurts from the wound now. Rayne staggers into the ropes. Skylar sets himself up, catches Rayne for a cutter as he stumbles back, but leaps into the air and pulls Rayne's head down past the shoulders and into his outstretched knee, face first.

Richard Parker: The Skunkbuzz! That's it! All she wrote!

The Avant Garde isn't taking any chances this time. He hooks the head and the leg and awaits his glorious triumph.




No! The referee is waving it off! Rayne kicked out at the very last moment!


Skylar can't believe it. He's up in the referee's face this time. The two are screaming at each other. The referee is threatening to disqualify Skylar. Skylar is threatening to decapitate the referee. Skylar pushes the referee. The referee pushes back. Rayne slowly gets back to his feet. Blood is pouring from his wound, but he can hear the argument enough to figure out where to go. He can just make out their forms in through the blood. Rayne comes up right behind Skylar, hooks him from behind, and drills SkyMont into the mat with a Dragon suplex. Rayne wipes the blood from his face, though more just keeps coming. Skylar stumbles to his feet, clasping the back of his neck. Rayne blasts him with two elbows pointed down right on the neck, where it meets the spine. Skylar drops to his knees. Rayne pulls him back to his feet and whips him into the corner. Again Rayne has to pause to wipe the blood from his eyes. He charges across the ring and leaps into the air. The point of both knees driven straight into Skylar's chest. SkyMont gasps and begins to collapse in pain. Rayne is falling back from the momentum as well, and he wraps both arms around the back of Skylar's neck and rolls SkyMont over with a modified monkey flip. Rayne maintains his grip around Skylar's neck, coming out of the flip so that he's still on top, knees planted on Skylar's chest. Rayne rolls over onto his back, still maintaining control, and adjusts his legs to lock in the triangle choke. He pulls Skylar's throat down across his leg as hard as he can. To his credit, Skylar doesn't immediately tap out.

Nick Stuart: This could be the end if Skylar doesn't find a way out of this quickly. People don't usually last in this submission very long.

Richard Parker: It's not a submission. It's a choke and it shouldn't even be legal. But Skylar will find a way out. Just wait and see.

The referee is down in the thick of it, asking if Skylar wants to give up. Though it's difficult for him to speak with his

throat being crushed, The Imaginary Man musters up a response.

Skylar Montgomery: No!

Referee: C'mon, Skylar? You giving in? Yes or No?

Skylar Montgomer: Fuck... Yo--

The last bit of that insult is cut off with an elbow to the face. Rayne still holds a firm grip on the back of Skylar's head with one hand. His other is blasting furious elbows and forearms to the side of his mask. Repeated blows to the face. Rayne pulls down with one hand. Bashes with the other. Skylar is being choked and bludgeoned at the same time. It doesn't take long before his body goes limp. Not that that stops Rayne from continuing his assault until the referee calls for the bell.

Ding! Ding!



Nick: And there you have it folks, Skylar Montgomery fails to once again beat Tyler Rayne.

Richard: But dude went out in a blaze of glory.

Nick: I would call that a faded moment of glory.

Richard: He's still got a Colossus moment.

Nick: Losing?

Richard: He had the best entrance of the night.

Nick: Oh drop dead.

Richard: I would, but you need someone to carry you through. It's gonna be a long night man.

Medics rush out to get Montgomery the proper attention he needs while Rayne goes out and poses with his people.

Nick: We're going to stall for a little time while they get Montgomery out.

Richard: Alright.

Nick: So Olsig and Shakur walk into a bar and the bartender gets confused so he plays Double Vision.

Richard: BAHAHAHAHA! Wait, I'm not supposed to laugh at that am I?

Nick: No, but thanks for doing it anyway.

Richard: We miss you Jay Mariotti.


Richard: I know right?

Nick: Jay Mariotti walks into an awards show and thanks everybody for showing up, then asks who the owner of a 2010 Rolls Royce is because they left their lights on.


Nick: Because nobody would ever let Mariotti near an awards show otherwise.

Richard: Who is feeding us these jokes?

Fade backstage to Max Kellerman.


Nick: We've stalled enough?

Richard: Yeah.

Nick: OK.

Hall of Fame Induction: Jason Snow

Final cleanup has been done from Tyler Rayne's insane rampage on Skylar Montgomery.

Nick: Montgomery might have had some sense beaten into his head after such a whooping. Rayne absolutely tore him apart there.

Richard: Still an injustice. You don't treat a man who has given so much to us in that manner.

Nick: What has he given us Richard, other than being a giant pain? He still can't win a match. I don't know why we're keeping him around, realistically.

As Nick and Richard continue to banter about Montgomery and Rayne, technicians inside are placing a red carpet over the ring's canvas. Two folding chairs are brought in and stationed on the right side of a simple brown podium with a PRIME logo on its front.

Nick: Well, we're about to class this show up. Literally. It is time for the Hall of Fame induction ceremony for Jason Snow.

Richard: I know people might have given Snow a lot of flack, but if he comes out here tonight, place is going to go bananas.

Nick: No question about it.

"Sound of Madness" creeps from all speakers in Qualcomm and introduces Lisa Tyler's arrival. After Tyler throws open a black curtain, she receives a warm ovation from San Diego. They know her experience since King of Kings has been unflattering so her getting a chance to do something this meaningful is nice.

Richard: It'll be interesting to see how Snow and her interact with one another after all this time apart. They weren't exactly BFFs and buying each other ice cream sundaes.

Lisa is dressed to impress and with two security guards accompanying her down the aisle, she holds a plaque in one hand and a box big enough to fit a ring inside in her other. She gives courtesy nods to supportive fans in the front rows while continuing to walk down the aisle.

Nick: We only learned of this development today, which is surprising given everything else for Colossus has been planned out pretty thoroughly.

Richard: I somehow doubt that. Snow is a no doubt Hall of Famer in any estimation, Nick. I think they just used it to drum up even more interest.

A microphone is positioned on the podium for Tyler while she makes her way up the ring steps and steps between the ropes. The security guards stand outside while Tyler places the plaque and ring box on the podium and leans forward to speak.

Lisa Tyler: Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope you have thoroughly enjoyed the first portion of Colossus VII.


Tyler: I know I certainly did, at least with Ms. Ares deciding to call it quits. A burden off everybody's shoulder. Am I right?


Nick: Tyler showing some of her own venom. She has never liked Ares and, well, now she doesn't have to deal with her anymore.

Richard: I hope Elise got my contact information I left in her locker room.

Nick: She didn't call you the previous 50 times you left it so I doubt you stand a chance now.

Tyler: Tonight, while we are celebrating our finest in ring competitors squaring off, we also are taking a moment to honor those who have graced our ring and done an impeccable job. Each year, at Colossus, we take time to induct outstanding members of PRIME's roster into our Hall of Fame. To date, fifteen individuals have received this prestigious honor. As of this moment, we are about to make it sixteen.


Tyler: This man might not have been well liked by any group except those who chose to follow with him: The Nova's, Rich Rollins, Angelo Deville's, and so on in this world, but no one can question whether or not he was the most dominant wrestler while under PRIME's roof. He held the Universal Championship for over 400 days, an accomplishment shattering all records of any kind in our company, and even managed to end a career in Kaiser Vashaun and become the first man to hold both PRIME's Universal and 5*Star Championships.

Nick: She could run accolades off all day for Snow if she wanted to.

Tyler: He also accomplished extraordinary achievements outside PRIME's roof, capturing PTC's GTT6 tournament. If you would turn your attention to either the PRIME*View or our secondary screen behind me, we would like to pay tribute to one of, if not the most, dominant individual in PRIME's history, Jason Snow.

Camera switch to video package complete with Snow's theme song: Right Next Door to Hell by Guns 'N Roses.

Nick: If Jason Snow is not in a class all by himself, then it does not take very long to call the roll.

I'll take a nicotine, caffine, sugar fix
Jesus don't ya git tired of turnin' tricks

King of Kings 2008 – The Start of Dominance
Jason Snow Vs Tyler Rayne: Jewel in the Crown Finals

Tyler Rayne is down on one knee and looking up for another run at Jason Snow. His eyes lock onto The Original Villain.

A moment in time passes with the two looking at each other. Rayne is defiant. Snow is unflinching.

Rayne steps up off the ground and onto both knees. Snow doesn't waste the moment he's got and takes flight, shifting his body sideways.

Rayne tries to get out of the way. He tries anything in his arsenal but there is nothing left.



Jason Snow falls over Tyler Rayne.








Nick: ...He's done it.

Richard: HELL YES, SON!

Nick: Jason Snow has become the Jewel in the Crown for 2008.

Richard: MOVIN ON UP!

Vince Howard makes it official.


But when your innocence dies
You'll find the blues
Seems all our heroes were born to lose

Culture Shock 2009 – The Start of an Unprecedented Reign
Jason Snow Vs Chandler Tsonda

Nick: He’s going up to the top rope!

Richard: One more time!

Using only his left hand for balance, Snow rises to his full height, and then cautiously, with small steps, he turns his back to his opponent. Closes his eyes. This time, he doesn’t look back.

He takes flight.


He lands it.



Snow hooks the leg like his life depends on the pin.


Richard: ONE!


Richard: TWO!

Nick: I can’t watch.


Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen! Here is your winner!

A light cheer of respect comes up from sections of the crowd. Other sections boo.

Vince Howard: And NEW PRIME Universal Champion!!

Snow brings himself to his knees, and when he stares down at his fallen opponent, there is something in his eyes. Is it respect?


Just walkin' through time
You believe this heat
Another empty house another dead end street
Gonna rest my bones an sit for a spell
This side of heaven this close to Hell

UltraViolence 2009 - Defying Insurmountable Odds
Jason Snow Vs Chandler Tsonda Vs Garbage Bag Johnny

Chandler falls away to the outside of the ring like a slow motion leaf as not one picture ever captured the quick uprising of boot to face. The flashbulbs were popping now like fireworks, not nearly fast enough to even see his foot flying -- only to hear the rippled of cracked air as sound tries to catch up to image.

Richard: He's caught himself! He's going up top!

Nick: His hand must be in absolute agony, but he's pushing through.

Richard: Nobody wants that title more than the man who has that title, and now he's going to put the icing on the cake!

Diving back, Snow throws his head and upper body underneath himself, thrusting his midsection around in a way which to some, like our dear friend Richard, that could be considered sexual, and to all, X-Rated. Snow holds for the pin, and it's elementary from here.





Right next door to hell
Why don't you write a letter to me yeah
I said I'm right next door to hell
An so many eyes are on me
Right next door to hell
I got nowhere else to be
Right next door to hell
Feels like the walls are closing in on me

Colossus VI – All the Gold Is Mine
Jason Snow Vs Kaiser Vashaun

Vashaun uses the last of his strength and pushes himself back up, off his knee to a full standing position. Putting a hand under Snow's legs, he pushes off, flinging the Universal Champion out as he does so. Jason tumbles through the air, spinning out and landing...

...on his feet.

Nick: No...

It nearly plays out so fast that no one sees it. Controlling his flight in mid-air, Snow lands on his feet from the Weight of the World and immediately steps back


Richard: Snake Eyes!

Kaiser is out cold before he hits the canvas... Snow's perfectly placed boot turning out the lights. Without hesitation, or maybe from sheer exhaustion, Snow falls to his knees, then drops his body across Kaiser's. Roberts quickly slides into place to make the count while Snow tries to muster up the srength to hook a leg.


Nick: C'mon!


Snow finally pulls one of Kaiser's large legs from the canvas...

... but at this point, it isn't necessary.


'Ding Ding Ding!'


Richard: Yesss!

"Right Next Door to Hell" blairs through the Boston night sky as every fan in attendance uses the last of their voices to scream their frustrations.

Nick: I don't believe it!

Richard: Believe it! Jason Snow has done it again!

As your arms get shorter
Your pockets get deeper

Right next door to hell
Why don't you write a letter to me yeah
I said I'm right next door to hell
An so many eyes are on me
Right next door to hell
I never thought this is where I'd be
Right next door to hell
Thinkin' time'll stand still for me

Great American Nightmare 2009 – Ending the Competition
Jason Snow Vs Kaiser Vashaun

Snow slides down Kaiser’s back, coming to a rest on the ring apron, outside the ropes. When Kaiser turns around, the champion drives his shoulder between the top and middle cables, nailing The Next in Line in the gut, doubling the challenger over. With two handfuls of the top rope, Snow catapults himself back into the ring, LITERALLY somersaulting across Vashaun’s back, and landing on his feet in the center of the ring.

Nick: Three times he’s escaped now! That athleticism, it’s lik…


Nick’s thoughts on Snow’s agility are never finished. As Kaiser turns toward the center of the ring, he steps right into the champion’s waiting boot.


Kaiser crumples in a heap, having tasted the devastating kick for the second time this night. Jason Snow drops to his knees in exhaustion, then crawls forward and makes the cover, unable to even hook a leg for leverage.


Nick: C’mon!


To roll Snake Eyes and survive… is incredible.


To do it twice is impossible.



Richard: He did it! It’s over!

Fuck you

King of Kings 2009 – Eliminating True Evil
Jason Snow Vs Tyler Nelson

Nelson spills back out into the aisle, a step ahead of Tsonda. With all the speed that's left in his bloodied and battered body, he bolts toward the ring with Tsonda hot on his heels. Nelson narrowly avoids the Model Citizen's grasp as he dives headlong into the ring, gets to his feet and then

Snake Eyes.

Nick: OH!


Snow dives quickly in for the pin, hooking the leg!





Nick: Jason Snow is still the PRIME Universal Champion, one year after he won the Jewel in the Crown tournament! What a year it's been for the champion!

Not bad kids just stupid ones
Yeah we thought we'd wn the world
An gettin' used was havin' fun

Culture Shock 2010 – The End of the Road
Jason Snow Vs Brandon Youngblood

Snow is on his knees, every movement labored. Everything shaking. Violently. Youngblood pulls him to his feet, but Snow drops down to a knee. Youngblood pulls him up again. Hooks an arm around Snow’s body for one last shot One last spinebuster to bury Snow right here in the canvas. He hoists Snow into the air.

And Snow, battered, in pain, and ultimately, finally, beaten, somehow shifts his weight in mid air and hooks Youngblood’s head, grabs his leg on the way down, and somehow, shockingly, incredibly, impossibly, he rolls Youngblood up for a pin.

Nick: WHAT!



Youngblood finally realizes what’s happening to him, the shock of it so extreme or his exhaustion so thick that it takes him a moment for his brain to send the message to his legs to kick out…


…a moment too late.


Richard: He did it! I don’t know how he did it, but he did it! Look at him. He’s positively broken on the canvas.

And he is.

I said we're not sad kids just lucid ones yeah
Flowin' through life not collectin' anyone
So much out there

Snapshots throughout Snow's career are shown:

Standing side by side with Angelo Deville, Rich Rollins, and Nova to form quite possibly the most dominant stable ever: Fuck You.

Still so much to see

Years later in a ring with Brandon Youngblood and Boda to form Standard of Bastards.

Time's too much to handle

Snow locking eyes with Killean Sirrajin, Chandler Tsonda, Lindsay Troy, Devin Shakur, Garbage Bag Johnny, Danny Ferguson, Tyler Rayne, and Tony Gamble.

Time's too much for me
It drives me up the walls

King of Kings 2007 – Snow's Finest Moment Ever
Merry Christmas and Fuck You

The Renegade: Didn’t you call Snow too? Did he not show up?

Nova: Oh no, he’s here. He’s getting dressed.

Deville raises an eyebrow, and all three of them turn their attention to a nearby janitor closet. Nova leads them over and knocks on the door.

Nova: Snow? You’ve been in there forever. Come out so I can get back to work.

From the other side of the door, Snow does not sound like a happy supreme being.

Snow: No!

Nova: Come on, Snow! The kids are waiting.

Snow: Fuck you, hippy!

Nova frowns.

Nova: It can’t be that bad.

To everyone’s surprise, the door bursts open, and we find Snow glaring at Nova with hard eyes and clenched teeth. Normally, Snow’s a pretty intimidating guy - he has eyes that can freeze hell and a knack for firing laser beams with them. But today, despite his best efforts, he simply looks like a ridiculous, angry elf.

Deville and Rollins’ eyes go wide, and immediately they forget all about the antlers on their heads. Snow points a finger in their direction.

Snow: Not. One. Word.

And perhaps his most famous line.

The first child in line is smallish for his age, perhaps six or seven. He stares thoughtfully up at Jason Snow, the angriest elf in the history of Santa’s employment, and gets only a glare in return.

Snow: What do you want, plebe!?

Child: I want to see Santa.

Snow: Santa doesn’t speak to inferior peasants like yourself. Your mother’s likely bound to her welfare cheques and her trailer park as we speak! STOP LOOKING AT MY EARS!

Drives me out of my mind
Can you tell me what this means...huh?

A final frozen image of Jason Snow standing with his Universal Championship over his shoulder, going out on top with the strap over his shoulder.

Camera switch back to Lisa Tyler, applauding in the squared circle along with 70,000 others in Qualcomm.

Nick: Quite an impressive highlight package we just saw there.

Richard: There was only one Original Villain, Nick, and nobody will compare to Snow.

Nick: I can't dispute that. He was the best when he brought his A-game, and he brought it every single night.

Richard: The best Universal Champion ever. Period. No argument.

Camera switch to Lisa Tyler.

Lisa Tyler: So it is with great honor and prestige that I present this Hall of Fame plaque and ring to Jason Snow.


A hard swallow follows as Lisa still leans forward.

Lisa Tyler: Unfortunately, Mr. Snow could not be with us tonight due to prior commitments.


Lisa Tyler: However... However... When I asked around if anybody was willing to accept this award on his behalf, one person was willing to do so. Ladies and Gentlemen... Matthew Ward.


"I Fucking Hate You"

Nick: What… two matches wasn’t gonna be enough face time for this guy?

Richard: Or maybe… one Hall of Famer is just doing the right thing and accepting an award on behalf of a fellow Hall of Famer. This kinda stuff happens all the time at award shows. Would you rather Lisa just tuck the plaque under her arm and march to the back? That’d be a great little ceremony.

The Inhuman Being emerges from behind the curtain and the jeers double in volume. Not phased in the slightest, he trudges down to the ring and up the steps.

Nick: And where the hell is Snow? What could be more important than coming out here, live at Colossus, in front of over 70,000 fans and accepting your induction into the Hall of Fame. You didn’t see Jerry Rice no-showing his induction.

Richard: No, but I bet you wouldn’t have bitched if Joe Montana would have accepted it on his behalf.

Ward steps through the ropes and walks toward Tyler, taking the plaque and ring from her hands. Behind the podium, the Intense Champion leans forward and attempts to speak.

Ward: Tonight…


Ward: To…


Ward: You can all boo till you’re out of breath, sitting there in your seats choking and gasping for air… Jason Snow is still going to be in the Hall of Fame, and I’m still going to be in this ring.

Ward straightens up behind the podium an lets the crowd finish their ranting, then leans forward once more.

Ward: I’ll keep this short…


Ward: Not for your sake, but because I’ve got a match to prepare for. I’ve got one down and one to go, so this’ll be to the point.

Nick: Lucky break for us.

Richard: Ssssshhhhh.

Ward: Over my career in PRIME and PTC, I was fortunate enough to have the chance to square off against Jason Snow on several occasions. And over the course of 2009, I got the chance to know the Jason Snow that had nothing to do with PRIME.

Richard: What a treat that must have been.

Ward: I’m not going to talk much about that Snow because the Snow away from the ring was a bit of a private man, and I respect that privacy. I’ll say only that Jason Snow was as intriguing as he was dominant in this ring. And he was dominant.

Richard: So true.

The Inhuman Being looks down at the plaque.

Ward: 400 days as Universal Champion… simply incredible. Jewel in the Crown. PTC IG champion. PTC Unified champion. It would take an hour to list all his accomplishments. Jason Snow belonged to an elite club. When he put his mind to it… when he invested… he was untouchable. Unstoppable. There’s such a very, very select few of us that know what that feels like.

NicK: Wow, humble much?

Richard: Hey, its all true.

Ward: There are plenty of championships. Plenty of awards and tournaments won. But It is because of that elite trait, that ability to flip a switch and be impossible to beat, that Jason Snow deserves this induction into the Hall of Fame. And on his behalf, I accept this honor.


Richard: This stadium does not like this guy.

Ward: Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a queen that needs dethroning.


The Inhuman Being steps away from the podium and exits the ring, making his way toward the back.

Nick: So, despite the lack of an honoree, PRIME has itself a new member of the Hall of Fame. Jason Snow joins a prestigious group of some of the greatest wrestlers to ever step foot in a ring. Meanwhile, we’ve got a huge night still ahead of us, including three title matches.

Hessian Vs Chainz

A blanketed box sits at ringside adjacent to ramp-side steel steps. Everyone knows what this box is for and who most assuredly is inside, but thinking about it is unnerving to the core. Several ladders also occupy ringside, ranging from a ten footer to a bulky twenty foot affair.

Nick: We’re finally ready for this grudge match. It’s been building and building for the better part of the past year.

Richard: Grudge match doesn’t even begin to describe it.

Nick: You may be right about that. These two, evil, heinous men truly hate one another. Just take a look.

The lights dim in the arena as a video highlight package starts to play.

United in destruction, they were the monsters everyone feared.

Tyler Nelson raises the hands of Chainz on one side and Hessian on the other as the Nelson Army takes form.

Several videos highlight their destruction…

Chainz snaps Leticia’s arm.

Chainz hits his patented Chain Reaction on Kaiser Vashaun, Troy Douglas, and Bryan Dawkins.

Hessian clobbers Tyler Rayne, Lindsay Troy, Jason Snow, Devin Shakur, Christian Daniels, and Tony Gamble.

He hits the Hellevator and grins as he pins Douglas, Garbage Bag Johnny, and Shakur.

Then it all came crashing down.

Tyler Nelson’s scheme is unveiled and he is exposed.

Chainz powerbombs Tyler Nelson, effectively breaking apart the Nelson Army.

That’s when things went from bad to worse.

Chainz convinces Hessian to put up his hardcore ability for a chance at the golden ticket.

Just as Hessian looks to pull out the win against Devin Shakur, Chainz unleashes hell.

Chainz performs the Chain Reaction on Hessian off the stage. He lies in a puddle of his own blood.

Minds were broken

Chainz plays his mind games with Hessian, crushing him in the process.

Hessian turns the tide and puts a rift between Chainz and Tracy.

An enraged and insane Chainz assaults Hessian from behind and brutally abuses the giant, crushing his mouth against the concrete.

And still he came back.

Hessian returns from the injuries and seeks revenge on Chainz, playing his own mind games.

He tricks Chainz to entering a shipping container with the lure of his wife. Instead, Chainz finds himself trapped and dropped from 50 feet. The crushing sound reverberates through the arena.

What is enough to put these monsters down?

A final close up of each grinning, sadistic face.

Chainz grins maniacally as he tells Hessian, "I know something you don’t know."

The feed cuts. Spotlights come back on as fans cheer. They’re not fans of either, but know when a potential match of the year is about to take place.

Nick: I think we’re ready to get this underway; this won’t be for the faint of heart.

Richard: Captain Obvious right here.

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.

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 dissipates 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.

Kingdom of Romance... Kingdom of the Dead...
Kingdom of the Worm...


As those final words die down, Hessian smiles and pulls a blanket from the container. Inside, as expected, sits Tracy. She’s wearing a fancy black dress and a diamond necklace around her thin and fragile neck, a prize if there ever was one.

Nick: This is sick, she doesn’t deserve that. Despite her association with Michael Sloan she’s one of the nicest and most genuine people on the roster.

Richard: Wish I could win a prize like that.

Tracy pounds on plexiglass and pleads with Hessian to let her out. He shakes his head and points to a door key hanging above the ring.

Her little voice can be heard through the glass and breathing holes in the container.

Tracy: Don’t do this! Let me out! How can you do this?

Hessian slams his hands on the material and mouths a reply back followed with a devious smile. Tracy cries as she realizes the helplessness of her situation. She sits down and looks away from Hessian as he slides into the ring.

Nick: I knew he was a monster, but to assault a defenseless woman and trap her in a cage is inhuman.

Richard: Really? You’re talking about being inhuman? He’s facing Chainz, the most inhuman bastard of them all. How many women do you think he’s done that to?

Nick: I know, but just seeing this happening out here is revolting.

Richard: I just think it’s stupid that he’s doing this. I know he’s the biggest and baddest, but Sloan is the sickest and Hessian is messing around with the one thing he actually cares about. If he comes out, which no one has seen him since that fall last week, there’s going to be hell to pay.

Nick: What kind of shape will Chainz be in tonight and will his unbridled rage and hatred be enough to save his wife?

"For You" by Korn hits as the crowd reacts accordingly, they boo.

Chainz comes out from the back very gingerly. He’s noticeably limping. It is obvious his left leg is banged up. His left hand is blackened and blue and hanging awkwardly at his side. His right arm is wrapped with his signature chain. He holds his sides as he slowly walks down towards the ring.

Upon his appearance Tracy stands up and pounds on the plexiglass. Sloan walks over to her and puts his hand on the perspex. Tracy quiets down and places her hand to match his. Chainz sinks his head and plops it against the clear glass. He says something inaudible and parts from his trapped wife, who looks on nervously, knowing he can't remove her without facing Hessian.

With caution he enters the ring and stares at Hessian, a look of death in his eyes.

Nick: Oh, this doesn’t look good.

Richard: There’s hell to pay, damn I can’t wait for this match!

Referee Max Newell reminds both competitors of the rules, prompting Chainz to once more turn to his wife caged behind four walls of bulletproof glass casing. His eyes flicker as he returns his gaze upon Hessian. With a nod of the head from both monsters, Newell calls for the bell.


Neither man sprints out of the gate as Hessian begins to circle Chainz who moves slowly and keeps his eyes glued on Hessian.

Nick: Is this a no holds barred match?

Richard: Umm, it does feature Chainz and Hessian. Even if it wasn’t I doubt anyone is going to tell them otherwise.

As Hessian nears Sloan he unwraps his chain a bit and whips it out at the 7’2" monster who narrowly avoids cold links. A move backward is enough time for Chainz to lunge forward with a straight left hand to Hessian's temple. Hessian endures brief pain while circling away from Chainz, as he shakes his injured left hand.

Nick: Chainz already showing the extent of his injuries.

Richard: If a single punch hurt him how’s he going to power through this match? Love alone won’t do it.

Nick: We all know that’s not true… he’s not capable of love.

Hessian grins as he sees Chainz try and shake feeling back into his left hand. He lunges forward and nails Chainz in the head with his own right hand. Chainz drops to a knee and tries to block an oncoming assault, but can’t stop a big boot from driving him down.

Hessian stomps on Sloan's injured left hand. Barely audible, he can hear soft whimpers from Tracy as she cries out for her husband.

Hessian lifts Chainz up and throws him into a turnbuckle. He charges forward only to eat an elbow of chain. Hessian stumbles back slightly stunned, and is tackled. Chainz drives a few well aimed punches into Hessian's gut. The Murder Show tries to cover his face and shield it from cold steel.

Nick: Chainz effectively using his chain.

Richard: It is his weapon of choice after all.

Nick: Hessian is a monster of a man, but not even he can take this kind of repeated abuse.

Sensing what Richard and Nick are talking about, Hessian grabs the unwrapped chain and pulls it to get Chainz off balance. Both monsters get to their feet at about the same time and exchange blows, with Hessian’s causing the smaller and injured man to stumble backwards.

Hessian rushes forward and floors Chainz with a clothesline.

Chainz gulps air while Hessian has a huge smile crosses his face. He places a giant boot on Sloan's chest and lifts his other leg off the ground, effectively placing all of his weight on Sloan. Chainz struggles to breath with 355 pounds pressing down on his already injured chest cavity.

Nick: What a brutal and simple move. Chainz is having a difficult time breathing and his head is turning bright red.

Richard: If he’s not careful he’s going to lose the services of his wife, and I’m sure Hessian is like many in the back and would love her services. Who wouldn’t?

Nick: Lindsay Troy? Lisa Tyler?

Richard: I’m sure at least one of them has munched carpet before and I don’t think it comes any better than Tracy.

Nick: … sigh.

Feeling satisfied with the damage inflicted, Hessian grabs Chainz by the head and lifts him. He goes for a punch with his shot partially blocked by Chainz. Sloan headbutts Hessian to allow him a second to catch his breath. He ducks another stiff jab, kicks Hessian in his stomach, and follows up with a DDT. He methodically grabs Hessian's free arm and places his legs across for an arm bar. He begins to wrench on the arm as best he can with his injuries. Even with the move not 100%, it is still enough to inflict serious pain.

Nick: Hessian bellowing out in anguish as Sloan tries to rip his arm off his body.

Richard: It’s not common for Chainz to be the smaller man in a fight so he’ll have to use his submission maneuvers to their full effectiveness.

Nick: It’s not commonly known just how skilled this man is in submission moves.

Richard: Oh, somehow I think everyone is quite aware of how skilled he is at making people submit to him.

Nick: Gross.

Feeling his arm beginning to give, Hessian knows what desperation he is facing. He takes his free hand and slams it across his own body to hit Chainz on his injured leg. Chainz grimaces as blow after blow connects until he can’t take any more and has to relinquish his submission. Immediately, Hessian bolts to his feet and shoulder charges Chainz down. Chainz rolls away from a vicious boot stomp and climbs to his feet. As Hessian nears, Chainz swings his chained hand and connects onto the side of Hessian’s head. Hessian stumbles and eats a superkick.

Richard: Hessian's down, good move.

Nick: That chain is really making this an even fight.

Chainz quickly grabs Hessian’s feet and locks in a sharpshooter.

Nick: And if he can keep this locked in and damage Hessian’s legs, it will tilt the match into Chainz’ favor. If the giant can't get vertical there's no way he's getting the key hanging above him.

Sloan wrenches on his hold with all his power as the veins in his biceps and arms bulge out. Hessian grimaces and bellows out in anger as he feels his legs and muscles straining. With quick thinking, he begins to rock his body back and forth forcing Chainz to lose his balance. With a final twist he throws Chainz off and to his right side.

Nick: He’s out and he’s looking pissed.

Richard: Watch out.

Chainz tries to get back on an offensive, but is stopped mid-track from a boot to his stomach. Hessian lifts him and delivers a huge powerbomb with ease. All available air exits Sloan’s already damaged lungs and he lays on his back gasping for breaths while his whole body aches. Hessian grabs the chain and unwraps it from Chainz’ arm. He smiles and tosses it out of the ring.

Nick: Well there goes that advantage.

Richard: Hessian's evening up the playing field now. Interesting to note neither man has even contemplated any of the ladders yet.

Nick: Well it makes sense to ground your opponent before trying. Neither man wants to eat canvas from fifteen feet up.

Pulling his foe up, Hessian rocks Chainz with a European uppercut, sending Sloan staggering. Hessian follows up with a double palm thrust to Sloan's chest, sending him into the ropes. As he lolls back towards Hessian, the giant hoists Chainz up and powers him over onto the mat.

Nick: Belly to belly by Hessian drills Chainz! Every power move shakes the ring, Richard. It's like listening to a thunderstorm.

Richard: Yeah, well, you close your eyes and dream of darkened meadows, I'll watch this nightmare with my eyes open.

Nick: How very poignant...

Richard: This is like Bigfoot versus Gravedigger. King Kong versus Godzilla... Tiger Woods versus Elin Nordegren!

Nick: I don't know if it's gonna get that violent.

The commentators share a chuckle as Hessian follows up with a boot to the left knee of his opponent. As Chainz cradles the knee, Hessian grabs it away from him along with the other and flips Chainz onto his belly, hooking Sloan's ankles under his armpits and hyper-extending the knees by pushing his forearms up into Sloan's shins.

Nick: Unorthodox Boston crab-like maneuver by Hessian.

Richard: Dragging Chainz around the ring now to stop him getting a hold of his legs.

Hessian quickly switches his grip around the shins to the waist and pulls Chainz up, powering him into the mat with a wheelbarrow powerbomb.

Nick: Hellbound! Hessian drives Chainz face first into the canvas once more.

Richard: He's certainly making up ground after getting rid of that chain.

The giant stomps a boot into Chainz's back, pressing down on it and using the ropes for added leverage. He glares over the turnpost at Tracy inside the glass cage. She watches on, her eyes glazed with tears as Hessian grinds his boot into her husband's back.

Richard: For all his talk before about caring about Tracy, he doesn't seem too bothered about her feelings now.

Nick: This goes beyond emotion Richard, this is just basic mutual annihilation.

Pulling Chainz to his feet Hessian attempts an Irish whip only for Sloan to reverse it and send Hessian across the ring, catching him on the rebound with a Samoan drop. The giant lands practically on top of Chainz as his left leg gives out under the 355lbs of Hessian. Instinct tells him to kick out and he quickly shifts the giant's weight off.

Nick: Expending energy to kick out in a match that doesn't rely on pinfall. Interesting.

Richard: The guy was dropped fifty feet inside a steel container ten days ago. Hessian has put himself at a huge advantage.

Glancing at ringside, Hessian spies the ladders and rolls out of the ring. Chainz cringes, working his arms and legs to alleviate the pain pulsing through his body. Barely given the time needed to catch his breath, Chainz feels two massive hands clamp around his skull, forcing him out of the ring onto his feet. Stumbling to a defensive stance, he barely catches sight of the 22E-sized boot before it connects with his jaw, sending him sprawling back into a ten foot ladder which clatters upon the mats with Sloan on top, grimacing in pain.

Nick: Hard boot by Hessian sends Chainz into the ladder! The Murder Show is slowly introducing Sloan to a world of hurt.

Richard: Never count the Monster from Hell's Kitchen out though!

Richard whoops with excitement as Chainz fights through the pain to roll off the ladder and grab it with both hands, thrusting it into Hessian's gut. The crowd cries for blood as the steel smacks against flesh, sending Hessian tumbling back into the apron. Max Newell observes the action safely from the ring as Chainz grits his teeth and pulls himself to a sitting position while Hessian kicks the ladder aside and advances on his opponent once more.

Nick: Hessian going in for more and Chainz drops him with a boot to the knee! Chainz back to his feet and there's Tracy calling to him from the cage.

Sloan's face sours at the sight of his imprisoned wife locked away from him, and allows himself to be distracted by her whimpering after him. The time serves Hessian well as he gets up and grabs Chainz, spinning him around and shoving a knee into his sore ribs. Chainz doubles over. Hessian glances behind at steel stairs and whips Sloan towards the metal.

Nick: Chainz fired into the unforgiving steel ste-...

Richard: Wait! He counters and sends Hessian straight into-...

Nick: Hessian counters again and switches momentum back the other way!

To the untrained eye it looks like a scene from Dancing With The Stars as Chainz and Hessian twist around one another trying to execute the Irish whip. Hessian counters Chainz's counter and attempts a whip into the plexiglass cage only for Chainz to plant his feet into the mat and with all his strength send Hessian cascading into the perspex.

Nick: My God what impact!

Richard: Look, it's gonna go!

Hessian crashes into the cage with a noise like a clap of thunder. Tracy screams as the giant's 355lbs frame barrels into her, causing the cage to tilt up on one side. Losing purchase, Hessian slips causing his full weight to push the cage over on its side with a mighty thump.

Nick: Chainz doesn't look too proud of that move.

Richard: I don't imagine that was too comfortable for Tracy.

Sprawled over the cage, Hessian holds his head while his other arm hangs limply by his side. Tracy shakes the cobwebs off and looks up, holding an arm aloft as if to stop Hessian bursting through the glass and crushing her. Chainz mouths a frustrated obscenity and catches sight of the twenty foot ladder standing tall by the ring. With a final glance at Tracy he takes off around the ring, hobbling towards the ladder.

Nick: Chainz just saw an opening and he's going for it.

Richard: Meanwhile Hessian is falling off of Tracy...wow, didn't think I'd ever say that in that context.

Nick: The giant can't see Chainz around the corner loading that ladder into the ring. Sloan might have a chance here if he's fast.

Sliding the ladder in, Chainz follows suit and ignores the pain to set the ladder up. Hearing the commotion, Hessian looks up to see his nemesis preparing to ascend to victory. He sits up but winces and rolls back, clutching his right arm.

Nick: Looks like Hessian took the brunt of that collision on his arm. That'll make balancing on the ladder a little tougher.

Richard: If he even gets up it. Which Chainz is doing right now.

The Monster from Hell's Kitchen climbs the first few feet with the cage door key firmly in his sights. Anxiety fills Hessian's eyes as Chainz gets halfway up, prematurely reaching up to the key. Pushing up into a sitting position, Hessian checks his surroundings and clocks the ladder ten foot ladder he threw Chainz into lying close by.

Nick: Chainz is almost at the top and Hessian is still down at ringside!

Richard: If he wins this match Hessian is going to be in for a very long very painful year.

Chainz reaches the fourth last step and stretches up towards the key. Still too far down, he takes another two rungs with ease, but before he reaches for the key he takes a moment to look for any sign of Hessian. It's the one mistake he's made as the giant rises ominously at ringside clutching the ten foot ladder in both hands. Chainz sneers angrily as the giant reaches back and with a mighty roar launches the ladder from his grip like a monstrous spear and watches as it soars through the air and cracks into Chainz's legs.


Nick: The crowd sure loved that!

The Murder Show throws his arms up and bellows triumphantly at Chainz and then the crowd.


Richard: But they don't love him. Sure that was awesome, but Hessian is still a prick.

Nick: Great way of putting it. Someone could get confused with all this cheering and booing for two bad men.

Sliding into the ring as Chainz rolls into the corner and lets his limbs hang, Hessian licks his lips and sets the twenty foot ladder back up underneath the key. Gazing at Chainz he narrows his eyes and walks over to his opponent, grabbing up the ten foot ladder on route and preparing for another onslaught. Chainz catches Hessian approaching out the corner of his eye and pulls his aching legs in tight while grabbing hold of the bottom rope.

Nick: Hessian squaring up for another shot with that ladder!

Richard: If Chainz takes much more damage to his already weakened legs he can kiss his wife goodbye.

The giant raises the ladder and brings it down hard. Chainz manages to dodge the shot and rolls out of the ring, leaning back in immediately and snatching the top rung of the ladder before Hessian can lift it back up. Pulling it towards him, Chainz braces a foot against the apron as Hessian tugs back, wrapping his arms through the rungs and lowering his stance. The crowd roar for blood as both monsters try to prise the ladder from the grip of the other. As Hessian begins to win the tug of war, Chainz suddenly releases the ladder and hobbles back against the announce table as Hessian flies backwards into the ropes, the ladder clattering on top of him as he hits the deck.

Richard: Not as pretty, but definitely humiliating offense from Chainz. He's just bought himself some down time.

The Murder Show tosses the ladder aside and struggles back to his feet as Chainz bends his bad knee and flicks his sore arm to work the kinks out. Tracy meanwhile struggles to see any of the action from the toppled cage.

Nick: Chainz looking the worse for wear here as Hessian storms this way.

Sloan leans over the announce table with his head bowed as Hessian reaches the ropes and hauls a big leg over the top. The moment boot touches apron Chainz snaps forward and swings an arm into Hessian's knee, causing the goliath to topple over the top rope and smack off the apron before landing in a heap at ringside.

Nick: Chainz feigning fatigue to drop Hessian like a giant redwood!

Grabbing a fifteen foot ladder from behind him, Chainz closes the legs and props it up between the apron and the announce table.

Richard: Oh hell...

Passing under the ladder, Chainz meets Hessian with a flurry of kicks and punches. Showing a renewed vigor, he pulls Hessian to his feet by the beard and almost tears it out bashing Hessian's head into the announcers table. Leaving the giant hanging off the table, Chainz spies his chain lying at ringside and retrieves it, wrapping it back around his arm and smiling satisfactorily.

Nick: He's got that equalizer back in hand. This could turn ugly for Hessian.

Chainz coils up and spins hard, aiming a devastating steel punch at the spot where Hessian is lying on the announce table. As he does so Hessian suddenly rises up and meets the haymaker with Nick's monitor to a roar of applause from the crowd. The crunch of breaking glass follows a small shower of sparks flying from the monitor as Chainz's fist bursts through it reducing it to shards of glass, plastic and wiring.

Nick: Son of a-! My monitor! Damn it all...

Richard: Chainz could have broken his hand from the force of that shot!

Falling to his knees, Chainz clutches his chain-wrapped arm as pain courses through it, exacerbated by the nipping links of steel. As he unwraps it, Hessian hooks his neck and pulls him up, sizing Sloan up for a suplex on the propped up ladder. Chainz counters with a shot to the groin, allowing him to slip from Hessian's grasp. Striking out like a rattlesnake, he wraps the chain around Hessian's throat and hauls the giant towards the ring.

Nick: Chainz has Hessian leashed like a dog.

Richard: Looks more like a hanging than walkies, Nick.

Positioning himself on the apron, Chainz hauls Hessian up and pulls tight on the chain. The crowd cheer as Hessian's face turns red, his eyes bugging as he feebly attempts to loosen the grip. Climbing into the ring, Chainz switches hands and pulls the chain over the top rope, dragging Hessian onto the apron. The giant quickly hops up and, in a desperation move lashes out at Chainz, wrapping a hand around his throat and pulling him close in one smooth motion.

Nick: Hessian's running on instinct now that he's suffocating.

Landing a jab into Chainz's shoulder causes the Monster to loosen his grip enough to allow Hessian one breath, the only one he needs to execute a chokeslam. Hoisting Chainz up and over the top rope, Hessian slams him down on top of the ladder to roars from the crowd. Even as Chainz falls, he keeps a hold of the chain, which pulls tight around Hessian's neck and sends him flying off the apron in an inadvertent senton motion. As Chainz hits the ladder from the chokeslam Hessian follows crushing him under a giant senton before burning out at ringside.

Nick: What devastation! That chain turned out to be the disadvantage for Chainz as Hessian connected with the ugliest senton bomb I've ever seen!

Richard: Look at the ladder Nick, it's been obliterated under the weight of those two.

Chainz lies flattened from the impact while Hessian coughs and splutters, kicking around and holding his neck. The fans let out a massive cheer then follow up with boos directed at their favorite hated superstar.

Nick: That chain may have done considerable damage to Hessian's throat.

Richard: Damn fool's lucky it ain't broke. Be an ironic way for a guy who uses Hangman moves to die by the gallows.

The giant gulps down air, scattering across the floor to the announcers table. Chainz remains motionless while Hessian scrambles over the announce table and grabs Richard's water, gulping it down and pouring it over his neck and gulping it down again. Tossing the empty bottle aside he stands straight up and rests a hand on the back of his neck, massaging the welt forming around it.

Nick: Hessian's looking a little woozy...

Richard: Maybe he stood up too fast.

Wobbling on his feet, Hessian staggers towards the ring apron and rolls into the ring, his movements becoming slower as he lies on his back and pulls his arms to his chest. His face contorts into a pained growl, and then he is still.

Richard: That move must have rattled Hessian, he was jerking around like a headless chicken.

Nick: Chainz meanwhile still out in front of us here, he hasn't moved since he was chokeslammed onto the ladder.

Richard: How do we know when to call out EMTs?

Nick: I have no idea...maybe when the cleaners are scooping them up with the popcorn and plastic cups?

In front of the announce table the form of Chainz suddenly sits bolt upright.

Nick: Scratch that, Chainz is showing signs of life now.

The Monster from Hell's Kitchen puts a hand up on the announce table and pulls himself to standing. He nudges the chain with his foot but doesn't think to pick it up, instead flopping back onto Nick and Richard's table and gazing into the ring.

Nick: Chainz barely looks like he's holding it together. Look at the eyes Richard, they're glazed. He's in the same state as Hessian.

Bounding forward with little control, Chainz hits the apron and rolls back into the ring. Max Newell approaches Sloan to check on him only to be swatted aside as the former Intense Champion mounts Hessian and jams his thumbs into the giant's eyes.

Nick: My God is he trying to blind Hessian?

Richard: Anything for an advantage. This is barbarously good family fun!

Upon feeling his eyes being pressed into the back of their sockets, Hessian unleashes a scream of agony and grabs Chainz's wrists, snapping out of his daze and fighting back, kicking away as Chainz squeezes his fingers around the giant's skull and pushes his full weight down onto his thumbs. Hessian's yells become grainy and broken until finally he snaps his head to the side, dislodging Chainz's thumbs from his sockets. A rapid right hand connects squarely with Chainz's mouth, bursting his lip and allowing Hessian to throw his opponent off.

Nick: Hessian able to remove Chainz and save his vision. If this was any other match, the referee would have stopped this by now.

Richard: Yeah, dirty tactics are par for the course in this environment.

Wiping the blood from his mouth, Chainz gets up groggily, holding onto the ropes as Hessian slowly rises beside him. The moment they look up at each other they burst forth with a slew of punches, firing lefts and rights into one another and doing little to block their opponent's assault.

Nick: Straight out brawl! Both men have found their second wind.

Richard: Hard right from Chainz staggers Hessian, the giant returns with a giant haymaker...

Nick: Chainz ducks it and-..SPINEBUSTER! Chainz puts the giant down!

The fans jeer wildly as Chainz admires his handiwork and turns his attention back to the twenty foot ladder still standing in the ring. With Hessian on the mat, he grabs the ladder and drags it over to the middle of the ring before returning to Hessian and dragging the giant by his beard over to the ladder. The Murder Show kicks and hollers and feels the bottom of Chainz's boot across his face as the Monster grabs the ladder and places the bottom rung over the throat of Hessian.

Nick: Chainz has trapped Hessian underneath the ladder, he could win this if he moves his butt!

As if reading Nick's mind, Sloan steps up onto the ladder and pumps past the first few rungs out of Hessian's grasping arms. As he begins to ascend, he first regards the giant struggling to move the ladder from his neck, and then a couple of rungs higher catches a glimpse of Tracy lying in the toppled plexiglass cage once more. The concern on her face spurns him up another few rungs to the ten foot mark.

Nick: Chainz reaches up for the key but he's still too low down.

Richard: He wastes more time every time he stops to reach up. You can tell everything's truly on the line when a methodical and precise mind like Chainz is struggling to judge distance.

Seeing his opponent near the top of the ladder, Hessian reaches under his chin with both hands and grabs hold of the bottom rung. As if bumps and jolts with each step Chainz takes, Hessian braces himself and times the ascent. A mere foot from the key, Chainz reaches up once more but to his horror finds his hand shoot past the key entirely. The next moment he's looking out at the crowd and then at the ringside area below him as Hessian powers the ladder up off his neck with all his strength, toppling it and sending Chainz flying from the top into the ring ropes. The crowd groan loudly as the Monster lands on the top rope groin first, yelping in agony before bouncing off the ropes back onto the canvas.


Nick: Have you ever seen anything like it before Richard? That's the biggest ladder in there with a three hundred pound added weight on it and Hessian was still able to lift the entire lot off.

Richard: Well he is a giant, Nick. Be kinda sad if he couldn't handle a measly three hundred-ought pounds.

Getting to his hands and knees, Hessian takes a few deep breaths and gets to one knee before rising up again. A half step to the left and a shake of the head and Hessian focuses once more on his opponent. To his ire Chainz, maintaining a hold of his goolies, begins to pull himself up off the canvas to his feet. The crowd boo him as he falls onto the ropes and gazes out at them, unaware of the giant stalking him from behind, holding a thumb out laterally at the Monster from Hell's Kitchen.

Nick: Hessian motioning for something big here.

Realizing what's happening, Chainz spins on his heels to face the giant, who quickly points his thumb down and lashes out with a kick to the gut, doubling Chainz over. To cheers from the crowd the Murder Show hoists Chainz up onto his shoulder in a Canadian backbreaker rack.

Nick: Chainz set up for the Hellevator!

Richard: It's over!

Hessian roars before popping his hips and launching Chainz over for the Ganso bomb. Chainz kicks up in mid-execution however and pulls his arms free, landing on his feet in front of the astonished giant.

Nick: Chainz counters the Hellevator! Follows with a kick to the gut, hoists Hessian up, but he can't keep the weight up!

Unable to lift Hessian for the Chain Reaction on his bad ankle, Chainz relaxes his hold of Hessian only for the giant to grab hold of his waist and rise up, sending Chainz flying overhead and onto the downed twenty foot ladder behind him. Sloan crashes against the steel and cries out, arching his back as Hessian turns back to his prey and licks his lips.

Nick: Counter by Hessian! These two monsters are showing tremendous resiliency throughout this contest!

Richard: This isn't a contest! It's a war. Just one brutal shot after another. There's no finesse in this destruction.

The giant places a boot against the ribs of Chainz and easily pushes his opponent off the ladder and out of the ring. Landing with a thump, Chainz holds his ribs and coughs up a wad of blood onto the mats as Hessian sets up the ladder.

Nick: Chainz must be suffering internal damage if he's coughing up blood.

Richard: Or he's swallowing the blood from that cut on his lip.

Nick: Either way Chainz is in a bad way yet refuses to yield to the giant Hessian.

Taking hold of the ladder, Hessian gazes up at the key and blows a breath out through his mouth. The crowd jeer him as he takes his first step, adjusting to the shakiness of the ladder before allowing his second foot to leave ground zero and take step on the third rung.

Nick: The Murder Show is finally going to attempt to climb the ladder.

Richard: The world watches with bated breath, Nick...

Gingerly taking the first few steps, Hessian finds a rhythm and ascends with confidence. At ringside Chainz hears the crowd reaction, and cranes his head up at the ladder in the ring. Gradually he rises up and sees before him Hessian climbing halfway up the ladder. With a pained howl, he grabs the apron and pulls himself into the ring. Crawling at first, he makes it to his hands and knees and advances on the ladder, reaching the bottom on both knees.

Nick: Chainz is back in the ring, Hessian better watch out.

Richard: He's nearly there! Hessian's got the key within his reach.

Indeed, the giant is mere inches from the key. Holding a hand out he tries to catch the swaying prize, and on his second grab freezes suddenly as the ladder jolts beneath him. Quickly grabbing onto the top rung with both hands he looks down to see Chainz snaking up after him with a terrible intent in his eyes.

Nick: Hessian couldn't get the balance to make the grab. Now Chainz is closing in on him there's no way he'll afford himself another attempt.

Reaching up like a grasping zombie, Chainz wraps a hand around Hessian's left ankle, but in his position Hessian can't do anything but watch as the Monster rises up another two steps and switches his feet, turning on the spot so his back is against the rungs.

Nick: What's the Monster from Hell's Kitchen planning now?

Richard: Oh no, no way! Chain Reaction from way up there??

Chainz reaches up with both hands and grabs Hessian by the waist. The giant's face turns to a look of horror as Chainz shifts better into position, pulling his head up to Hessian's belly and with a snarl hoists the 355lbs Murder Show off the ladder and sends him crashing back to earth with an earth shattering powerbomb.


Nick: Chain Reaction from fifteen feet high! How has the damn ring not exploded??

Richard: That's one of the damnedest things I've ever seen! The fans in the arena are going crazy!

Dropping to his knees in front of his flattened opponent, Chainz rests his hands on his thighs and catches his breath. Glancing around the arena, he soon hears the boos filtering through the reaction for the Chain Reaction. Wincing, he gazes over to the spot where Tracy is lying at ringside and with a look that could only be described as emotionally charged turns back to the ladder and takes his first step to victory.

Nick: This is Chainz's chance to get that key.

But before he can lift his other foot up, a massive paw wraps around it and holds on tight. Looking back in anger, Chainz drops to the mat and stands over Hessian as the giant gasps in air through gritted teeth, his eyes shut tight and his hand wrapped firmly around the ankle. Chainz looks down on Hessian and begins smiling.

Richard: Chainz admiring how pathetic Hessian is.

Nick: He shouldn't be wasting time, he should be climbing that ladder.

Richard: Look at his face.

Chainz's twisted smile widens, his eyes softening as Hessian reaches with his other hand and grabs his knee. Peeling himself up off the mat to his knees, Hessian sways back and looks into the serpentine gaze of Sloan. Grimacing, he reaches back and plants a stiff shot into the gut of Chainz.

Nick: Jesus, no reaction from Sloan. He's still smiling the son of a bitch.

Richard: Hessian doesn't look too happy with that.

Surprised that Chainz wasn't winded from the punch, Hessian reels back another shot and lands it flush in the ribs of his opponent. Again Chainz barely moves, his sinister gaze never averting from the eyes of Hessian. The giant huffs with frustration and rises to his feet, swaying back against the ropes and launching forward with a haymaker planted into the temple of Chainz. The Monster staggers back a few steps with his head still cocked from the punch, but shows no reaction and just flashes a smile back at the Murder Show.

Nick: This is sick. Hessian must have rattled something loose because Chainz is out of it.

Gritting his teeth, Hessian fires a boot to the gut of Chainz who doubles over and rises immediately with that smile still stuck on his face. Disbelief racks the features of the giant who snarls and grabs Chainz, whipping him into the ropes and clotheslining him with authority. Sloan's body twists in the air and lands in a heap on the canvas. Hessian kicks him onto his back and curses as that smile shines back at him.

Nick: Hessian's getting extremely frustrated here. Chainz is just laughing off these shots.

Richard: After all the punishment he's endured the crazy asshole is starting to enjoy it.

Chainz mouths something to Hessian and winks, sending the giant into a craze. He drops his full weight on Sloan's chest and hammers a fist into Sloan's face. The impact causes his nose to burst, sending claret flowing down his cheeks and mouth. But there to mire his satisfying work is a pearly white smile and a pair of snake eyes glaring at him. Spitting with anger, Hessian slams another fist into Chainz's bloodied face, spreading the bloodstain over his face.

Nick: Hessian's pounding Chainz into the mat, shot after shot after shot of those ham-size fists.

Richard: Chainz is wearing the crimson mask and a dead man's smile in the face of this brute violence.

Breathing more heavily, Hessian begins smashing Chainz's face with double ax handles, incensed at the smile mocking his efforts. With a final shot to the temple Hessian lets Chainz's head fall limp against the mat, oozing blood from his burst nose and lips. Falling back to a seat, Hessian wipes the poisonous fluid from his hands and gets his breath back while Chainz lies flat on the mat caked in his own blood.

Nick: Chainz defying Hessian's rage with the simplest gesture. It took something inhuman to laugh in the face of punishment like that.

Richard: But it doesn't help his chances any. He might be smiling like a killer but it'll make a loser out of him if he lets Hessian punish him like that.

Getting up, Hessian returns to the ladder and wastes no time ambling up as best he can. Pain racks his body but through a giant's resolve he makes his way up the ladder. A raspy gurgling sound draws his attention before he can make any progress however, and looking back down at Chainz the Murder Show hollers with rage when he discovers the cackle to be that of Chainz, laughing behind a pulpy bloodsoaked smile.

Nick: Hessian's coming back down off the ladder, he despises that look on Chainz's face.

Richard: Hessian's out for revenge for everything Sloan has done to him, it must be eating him alive to see Chainz just grinning up at him like he doesn't care.

Grabbing his opponent, Hessian pulls Chainz to his feet in front of the ladder and doubles him over again between his legs. Without wasting any time he lifts Chainz up into the Canadian backbreaker rack.

Nick: Hellevator!

But Chainz uses the momentum of the lift to roll right over Hessian's shoulder and land on the ladder. To roars from the crowd Chainz, with a face caked in blood and his left eye swollen shut, ascends the ladder with deceptive speed as Hessian turns to discover what happened. Seeing Chainz scrambling halfway up the ladder the Murder Show reacts by grabbing the ladder and pulling it away from the centre of the ring. The ladder shifts a couple of inches at first as Chainz reaches the top, and with another tug pulls the ladder towards the corner. But it's too late.

Nick: He's got it! He's got the key! Chainz has the key!

Richard: He's been pummelled to mush, how in the hell did he do that?!

Seeing the key in Chainz's hand as he braces himself on the top of the ladder, Hessian's eyes widen in a blind rage. Hopping up the first few rungs Hessian lunges up the ladder and smacks a forearm against Chainz's back. Doubling over the top of the ladder Chainz keeps a hold of the key and cries out as Hessian slams another forearm into the small of his back. Feeling the pain spread through his torso, Chainz throws a leg out from the ladder and pulls himself awkwardly over to the other side from Hessian.

Nick: Chainz has the key but the winner is the one who opens the cage and retrieves Tracy. Now Chainz has to fight by Hessian to get his wife back!

Richard: Hessian racing to the top of the ladder to meet Chainz and the Monster from Hell's Kitchen meets him with a shot to the skull with that key in hand.

Nick: Stabbing the giant with it, and Hessian is bust open from the shot and reeling off the ladder.

Chainz puts his middle finger through the ring of the key and holds it like a brass knuckle. Aiming squarely at Hessian's bleeding head, Sloan fires another shot and gasps as Hessian snaps to life and snatches Chainz's wrist. Holding tight he throws a jab at Chainz's swollen eye, landing it and causing Chainz to scream in agony. Holding his free arm to his face Chainz is powerless to stop Hessian ripping the key from his other hand.

Nick: Now Hessian has the key, Tracy's going big tonight!

Hessian grins triumphantly and raises the key overhead...

Richard: Wait what's he doing??

...and launches it far into the crowd at the back of the arena.

Nick: What the hell is he doing?! Hessian just threw the cage key into the crowd, there's no way they'll find it now!

Richard: Jesus Christ the whole point was to take Tracy away from Chainz and now-...now Chainz can't win her back. That stupid son of a bitch Hessian is a genius!

Nick: If Chainz can't win Tracy back now then how the hell is this going to end?

Chainz dabs his eye with his hand, but can't tell if the blood spilling onto it is from his eye or another of his wounds. Seeing Hessian toss the key away illicits a death cry from Chainz, who throws a closed right at the jaw of Hessian. Stunned by the shot Hessian hasn't time to react before the second rocks him. Reeling back, Chainz throws a third only for Hessian to dodge the punch and grab him by the back of the head, slamming Chainz face first into the top step of the ladder.

Richard: How is Chainz still going?

Nick: He's fighting for Tracy, Richard. From what we've seen I don't think he'll stop.

Bleeding like a stuck pig and barely able to see, Chainz feels himself being lifted up the ladder by the throat as Hessian rises a step higher with his hand wrapped around Chainz's neck. The crowd screams for gore as the two monsters struggle on top of the ladder. Chainz tries to break Hessian's grip with shots to the elbow, but the giant only chokes him tighter, lifting him up to the top of the ladder as it wobbles and shakes on its four legs.

Nick: My God what is Hessian planning?

Richard: The ladder's going to fall right over, look at it wobbling!

Glancing back at the cage lying beyond the turnpost, Hessian's eyes narrow. Throwing Chainz's right arm over his left, the giant squeezes his throat tightly and with a last burst of energy tears Chainz from the ladder and sends him hurtling twenty-plus feet through the air. The crowd watches in amazement as Hessian leaps off the ladder, sending Sloan's 300lbs body flailing helplessly over the turnpost and crashing down on top of the plexiglass cage. The awesome boom of the impact fills the arena as the plexiglass buckles along its frame above Tracy's screeching form, while the fans raise the roof off the arena.


Nick: Jesus Christ! We need help down here!

Richard: He's dead! Hessian's killed him!

Nick: We need EMTs down here now, Chainz has just been chokeslammed twenty feet through the air into that glass cage!

Richard: What the hell has Hessian done?

The Murder Show stares at the ceiling on his back, his chest heaving up and down and blood seeping from the stab wound in his head. He winces as pain throbs through his body, but his mouth contorts into a smile of his own as the sound of Chainz crashing into the cage plays over and over in his head.

Nick: This is sickening. Chainz hasn't moved an inch.

Richard: Here come the medics.

A medical team race through the tech area at the side of the entrance with a stretcher in tow. Flying by the ramp they surround Chainz as the one pulling the stretcher sets it up beside the cage.

Nick: That was a massive fall, there's no telling how hurt Chainz is.

Richard: He damn sure isn't smiling now.

Nick: Someone's gotta do something about Tracy, she's still stuck inside that cage and we don't have a key.

A neck brace is applied to Chainz and his body is carefully lifted onto the board then passed onto the stretcher while Tracy watches on in horror from her prison. She tries to prise the glass away from the frame to no avail, and begins sobbing uncontrollably.

Looking over at the scene of devastation, Hessian sits up in the corner and watches as the EMTs carefully wheel Chainz up the ramp. Seeing Tracy still inside the cage a sinister grin comes over his face.

Nick: Hessian's overjoyed at this outcome. It's borderline criminal.

Richard: And it's only on pay-per-view!

Sliding out of the ring Hessian hobbles over to the cage holding his sides. A grimace breaks his smile momentarily before he shows his teeth once more. Tracy turns her tear-streaked face towards the giant and whimpers as the giant reaches his hand into his pocket.

Nick: What's he doing?

The giant fumbles around in his pocket and pulls his hand out...

Richard: I don't believe it.

...and produces another door key for the cage.


Nick: He had a key on him all along! That devious bastard, he was never going to let Chainz win!

Twirling the key in his fingers, Hessian leans over the cage and inserts the key into the lock, grabbing the buckled perspex around the door and pulling it open. Reaching in he grabs Tracy and helps her out to a chorus of boos from the crowd.

Nick: Hessian wins. He deceived Chainz with lure of a key that probably wouldn't have opened the door anyway and has the audacity to finish the match after practically killing a man!

Richard: You're damn right Hessian's won. He outsmarted Chainz twice in as many weeks and tonight at Colossus he's taken the one important thing in Sloan's life from him. Chainz is done.

As the stretcher passes through the stage-side area into the backstage, Hessian spies it and drags Tracy by her arm after it. Tracy puts up little resistance and they quickly reach the curtain where a camera is ready to follow them as Hessian pulls Tracy along with him, groaning and holding his side whilst trying to catch up to Chainz.

Nick: Hessian has just grabbed Tracy and made a beeline after Chainz. What's he going to do, drive him to the hospital himself?

Richard: Cemetery, maybe.

Down the corridor past various crates and equipment, the EMTs pass through a fire door leading out into the parking lot where an ambulance awaits. Hessian drags Tracy after them, shoving open the fire door and storming into the parking lot. Seeing Chainz being loaded into the ambulance, Hessian releases Tracy and sucks up the pain to run over to the ambulance.

Nick: Oh come on what now! The man needs medical attention!

Richard: Now he's got Tracy with him what could Hessian possibly be thinking about doing to Chainz?

Pulling two of the medics out of the ambulance Hessian swats the rest away, shouting at them to get lost. Tracy races up to the ambulance, and to her surprise Hessian willingly helps her into the back before slamming the doors shut.

Richard: I suppose it's the least he could do after putting Chainz through that hell. Taking Tracy to his side and all.

Nick: He just pushed the EMTs aside, Richard. He's not helping anyone...

The ambulance driver looks frantically in his mirrors trying to see what's happening. Glancing back at Tracy and Chainz behind him he gazes out again looking for the EMTs only to see the massive frame of Hessian fill the mirror before the driver door is pulled open.

Hessian: Get out!

The driver protests but Hessian easily dispatches him, tossing him out and climbing in.

Nick: ...He's kidnapping them! Hessian's taking Chainz and Tracy!

Richard: This is crazy, Chainz needs medical help and Hessian's taking him for a joy ride??

The engine revs heavily before Hessian adjusts the bite of the clutch and tears off out of the parking lot. The EMTs give chase but quickly give up as the ambulance hits the street and speeds off into the night.

Nick: Folks I can't believe what we've seen here tonight at Colossus. The carnage that has ensued has ended with Chainz and Tracy being driven off by Hessian. God only knows what he's got in store for them.

Richard: Could be the last we ever see of Chainz.

Nick: Well we can't dwindle on it any longer, Colossus must roll on.

Richard: Roll on? It's just blown up.


Richard: Well, I’ve got word that we are heading to the back to hear from Boda, who will defend his 5 Star title tonight... My money’s on Boda walking out champion.

Nick: I hope The First makes Boda bleed for all he’s done since returning to PRIME.

The PRIME*View comes to life with a blurry shot of something gold in color.

Boda [OCV] : Tonight is the biggest night of our company’s year.

The shot fades slowly out. The shot is still slightly blurry, but you can make out the name BODA.

Boda [OCV] : COLOSSUS...The Super Bowl, World Series and NBA Finals all wrapped into one.

The shot continues to fade out, this time you can make out FIVE STAR.

Boda [OCV] : Tonight will separate the men from the little bitches.

We finally see the entire shot come into focus. It is the 5 Star Championship belt that belongs to none other than Boda.

Boda [OCV] : Tonight, history will be made. Tonight feuds come to an end, titles will be won and lost. Tonight... The stars of PRIME will give their sweat, their tears... And for sure, one of them will give their blood to make this the greatest evening in PRIME history. Tonight, The First will step in the ring, go toe to toe against a man who has been on tear through PRIME since his return in January. The First will get his shot at title I so easily won from Garbage Bag Johnny... But I need to know son... Are you ready boy... Because I sure am... Are you ready to prove you’re not a little bitch?... God I hope so... Do you have what it takes to be the 5 Star Champion?... I damn sure do... But I don’t think you are truly ready. You aren’t ready to step to me. Look at what I’ve done since being away for 4 plus years. I’ve done more in my return to PRIME than you’ve done in your pathetic career. But hell... I am the FIVE STAR CHAMPION…..and I am an equal opportunity ass kicking machine. So I welcome what ever feeble attempt you bring to dethroning me tonight... because I am the epitome of Five Star.

The 5 Star Title is lowered, to reveal a close up shot of Boda’s face. He smiles sadistically.

Boda: And First... You are just a second rate ass hat... see you in the ring.

Boda shoves the camera away and the shot fades to black.

Boda © Vs The First

Nick: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the awe-inspiring Qualcomm Stadium here in beautiful San Diego, California and welcome BACK to Colossus VII!

Richard: "Awe-inspiring", Nick? ...Really? This stadium is almost as old and decrepit as you are. Seriously, the only thing inspiring my awe is that we have almost seventy-five-thousand morons able to read a map and find their way here...

Nick: ...This stadium has held three Super Bowls and two World Series and is the only venue in history to host both in the same year back in ninety-eight! And that’s not a very polite thing to say about these loyal PRIMEates - most of whom have shelled out their hard earned coin and paid top-dollar to be here and see the spectacle of Colossus live and in the flesh...

Richard: ...Wiki-

Nick: -and what a show they have seen so far tonight, with four matches already in the books including the brutal battle we just endured with Chainz and Hessian. If EITHER of those guys is able to get out of bed tomorrow after what they laid on the line here tonight then I’d be inclined to start believing in miracles.

Richard: ...ahhh miracles, those magical things we used to witness on a regular basis when Hoyt Williams was on the payroll...

Our color commentators’ wistful remembrance of the Hall of Famer is halted as PRIME ring announcer Vince Howard steps through the ropes to begin proceedings for the fifth match of the night. He raises the microphone to his lips before addressing a tiring, but expectant crowd:

Vince Howard: Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the following contest is a FIRST BLOOD match for the 5 STAR CHAMPIONSHIP!

Nick: And what a match this should be, brought about over one month ago when Boda blindsided Garbage Bag Johnny as he made his entrance for their match and dominated him to claim the title…

Richard: …it was ingenious Nick, one of the great masterstrokes of the twenty-first century so far.

Nick: Following that he has tormented the PRIME fans and focused on The First, someone he believes is an ideal candidate for his first 5 Star Title defense – and not just because of the name. Things broke down badly last time out on ReVolution during the contract signing for this match as Boda again conducted a sneak attack, which ended with a chairshot that left The First in a pool of his own blood.

Richard: …instantly giving "The Big Bad Boda Daddy" the psychological advantage heading into this one.

The shot turns from Howard towards the impressive entrance stage of Colossus VII, panning across row after row of rabid PRIMEate as it goes. As it settles a spotlight submerges the scene in a bright white glow, before Muse, the valet of First, steps through the curtain clad in her Carmen Sandiego-esque outfit, complete with a headset...

Muse: Hello San Diego! I know all of you are feeling alive this night, because you all can feel the drama... the passion... and the excitement in the air. You all know what it means to truly live because inside each and every one of you… is a soul… A beautiful, eternal part of the universe that has come to this planet to explore, to adventure, to find out what humanity is all about…

As the gathered crowd hang on each and every word uttered by the captivating Muse a procession of thirty people - half of them men, half of them women – join her through the curtain, all of them dressed in risqué "caveman" outfits. They mill around her on the stage, without any apparent direction or purpose...

Muse: Behold! Humanity before souls, before feeling, before love… Nothing but pandering to the most basic of instincts, nothing but an existence based purely upon physical needs… There is no art, no music, nothing but the need to sustain life… But is it truly… Alive?

She walks over to one of the "cavemen", picks up an old wooden drum and hands it to him...

Richard: Sweet Mother of Hoyt... I feel like I’m watching the Discovery Channel here. If this goes on for much longer I may get the sudden urge to storm their head office wielding-

Nick: -are you serious?

Richard settles down, perhaps for once realizing that he may have just been about to overstep the boundary, and after a few moments the "caveman" begins playing the drum as the capacity crowd watches on in silence...

Nick: Look at the others react to the music here folks, these "cave" people are dancing around the stage!

Muse: It was I that brought forth art and brought music into the world... That is why I am "Muse"… I opened the eyes of man unto the nature of the spirit, unto what made the soul so special…

She hands a wooden flute to a "cave" woman, and its music joins the drum…

Muse: It was I that lit the spark of creativity in the heart of the world… It was I who gave to them the gift to make music, to inspire others through art… It was I who let them finally, truly be alive.

Richard: Is this broad telling me that she is the reason for Justin Bieber’s existence?

Nick: "Broad"?

Suddenly three of the others run off and pick up two crude guitar-like instruments and a trumpet that looks almost like a half trumpet/half vuvuzela, and join in the "cave" orchestra.

Richard: Are these "cave" people playing this song? No way did these dinosaur-hunting freaks have this kind of rhythm, no way…

Nick: I’m not sure what you’re hearing is actually coming from those people Rich; I think it’s one of the wonders of modern technology…

Muse: And as they played music they celebrated… Celebrated… with dance!

The non-playing "cave" people stop merely listening and start dancing with joy, forming two lines and going through a routine. Muse walks to the center of the front line and begins dancing with them, causing those PRIMEates with the XY chromosome and with enough beer in their guts to start yelling and hollering cat calls at the top of their lungs.

Richard: Owww-eeee! If she ditched the Cirque-du-Soleil outfits I could see this girl having a chance with me, Nick…

Nick: I’ll be sure to tell her that, she’ll be thrilled…

Muse: We dance in celebration… Celebration of life, of simply being alive… But also for the one that made all of this possible, of the one who made us see… The one who brought forth souls from The Spiral to this planet… We celebrate he who started it all… We celebrate… THE FIRST!

The lights go out, covering Qualcomm Stadium in complete darkness. "To Die For" by The Birthday Massacre bursts onto the speaker system as spotlights hit the entrance ramp now showing The First sitting on a makeshift wooden throne, being carried to the ring by eight of the "cavemen", with the rest of the massive entourage leading the way, dancing down the ramp, Muse at the front of it.

Nick: We have seen some great entrances here tonight already folks, but The First is marking his first ever appearance at Colossus with a truly epic show!

Richard: So we sit through two minutes of educational blah, blah, blah and now this idiot gets carried to the ring by these numbskulls like some kind of phony prehistoric King? Man I can’t wait ‘til Boda gets out here and turns that face-paint red!

Nick: He’s just putting on a show for the fans! And they seem to be responding to it, listen to this reaction for the "Outcast Hero"; they are really pulling for him after Boda’s recent actions… the way in which the Floridian manipulated these people was despicable.

Richard: Despicably brilliant!

The First is wearing his usual Kefka style face paint, along with the black wife beater, black G.I. pants and ring boots that have become his staple attire. The "cave"-mob makes its way to ringside and places the throne carefully on the apron before The First stands up majestically and loudly yells out to the San Diego crowd…

Richard: Nice of him to make an effort on the ring attire for Colossus…

Nick: Why should he change it Richard? He’s two-for-two in singles competition and his only recognized loss was against the formidable team of Troy and Rayne… in a match where he didn’t even take the fall! First has had a fantastic start to his PRIME career and to be in a title match at Colossus already shows how highly thought of he is…

Richard: Maybe if he finally started paying Castor Strife the respect he deserves he could have been even higher up the card…

First walks the apron before jumping over the top rope into the ring and landing on the second rope, he again raises his arms and screams at the crowd as his procession slinks away from sight off-camera. Muse takes her position in front of the announce table, allowing Richard a close-up view of her stunning outfit…

Nick: With my broadcast partner currently incapacitated by his "caveman"-like urges, it’s left to me – as usual – to set the scene. First is competing here at Colossus for the… first… time and this is also his debut in a PRIME Championship match! After only three official matches with the company he has made a rapid ascension, but he remains the severe underdog tonight against the much bigger and more experienced Boda…

"To Die For" slowly fades away as the stadium lighting returns, leaving First to undergo his checks in the ring from official Max Newell…

Nick: Here in the aptly-named San Diegan neighborhood of Mission Valley, The First has only one mission… to make Boda bleed. There is no sign of apprehension or fear on the face of our challenger, but it is hard to tell any signs of emotion through that painted face of his…

Richard: -who-…. Wha-?

Nick: The First, Richard, the guy who is challenging Boda for the 5 Star Championship… y’know, right now?

Richard: Ohhh sorry, little pre-occupied here… HEY VINCE HOWARD! WHAT ARE WE PAYING YOU FOR!? Nick, I think I might suggest all the other guys on the roster do what these two do and have their managers introduce them…

Nick: Well I’m sure Shakur would approve anything that would save him a few bucks and not damage the show quality in any way…

Nick gives a wry smile towards the veteran ring announcer as Howard flips him and Richard the bird off-camera (honestly, he did), undoubtedly peeved at having his Colossus-announcing duties removed by the Muse and Boda’s baby brother, before the stadium lights again dim, engulfing the fans in darkness and the opening of 'Remedy' by Seether hits...


Nick: Here comes big, bad, Boda and he’s getting exactly the reaction we anticipated and you can’t say he doesn’t deserve every last bit of it.

Richard: These ingrates make me sick!

Nick: I should have known better...

"Throw your dollar bills and leave your thrills all here with me
And speak but don't pretend I won't defend you anymore you see
It aches in every bone, I'll die alone, but not for you
My eyes don't need to see that ugly thing, I know it's me you fear
If you want me hold me back"

Nick: One omen in Boda’s favor tonight is that the 5 Star Championship has never changed hands on an "odd" edition Colossus… Brandon Youngblood beat Nova at Colossus II, Jason Snow took the belt from Easton Hall at Colossus IV and last year at Colossus VI he repeated the trick on night two, with a hard-earned victory over Kaiser Vasahun!

Richard: You do love the stats Nick, and I love them almost as much when they are so heavily weighted in favor of the guy I am rooting for. If I wasn’t certain enough of a Boda victory tonight already, that little pearl of wisdom has just sealed the deal!

Nick: Sarcasm?

Richard: You bet.

Nick’s disappointment is evident in his tone as a series of white pyrotechnics explode from the ring posts lighting up the stadium momentarily, as First stands stoically still, focused, apparently fully expecting the explosion to occur. Muse jumps a little, having no doubt spent most of the recent week partying and gigging instead of helping her wrestler prepare for Colossus by watching the tapes of his opponent with him...

Richard: Should I offer her my lap as a safety blanket, Nick? She definitely jumped a little there...

Nick: Are you kidding me? You must have seen thousands of entrances and you still jump EVERY DAMN TIME when the fireworks shoot off!

"Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "You'll be the death of me"

Richard: I can’t wait for Boda to get out here and dominate this little freak. He is already on his way to being classed along such great 5 Star Champions as Ian English, Hoyt Williams, Jason Snow and Brandon Youngblood…

Nick: …not to mention Joey Troy, Tony Gamble, Tyler Rayne and Jonathon Winters…

Richard: I said "great", Nick…

More fireworks light the stadium as the jeering of the 5 Star Champion begins to fade, the PRIMEates reluctantly saving their strained vocal chords for the actual appearance of Boda and his brother.

Richard: By the way, I don’t appreciate you telling our audience bare-faced lies about my professional conduct...

Nick: -I have plenty of stories about your non-professional conduct if you’d pref-

Richard: -whoa, whoa, whoa! Focus on the show will you Nick? Jeez, I am the glue here folks, the GLUE... I hold this broadcast together. Did you all know that this title has never changed hands at an "odd" edition of Colossus? Eh? Huh?

Cue Nick’s twelfth eye-roll of the night, with plenty more to come.

"I don't need a friend, I need to mend so far away
So come sit by the fire and play a while, but you can't stay too long
It aches in every bone, I'll die alone, but not for pleasure
I see my heart explode, it's been eroded by the weather here
If you want me hold me back"

In the shadows of the explosions, Boda and his brother David appear on the ramp to a roar of disapproval from the San Diegan fans. A stern, confident look is evident on the face of the former Universal Champion as David bounces around him, microphone in hand... ready to introduce his big brother...

Nick: Great to see Boda take the time and effort to fix up a special entrance for Colossus... though I suppose the fans are used to him letting them all down recently.

Richard: Pffft. Are you telling me that Boda has the time to work on some fancy Dan introduction to this match? Unlike The First, he doesn’t need it, Nick. He knows he’s strolling into San Diego and STRUTTING back out after a couple of minutes with that beautiful 5 Star Title still planted over that huge shoulder of his. Besides... how can you improve on perfection?

"Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "You'll be the death of me"
Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "You'll be the death of me"

The "Big Bad Boda Daddy" spouts off some expletives and points aggressively towards numerous groups of fans hissing and jeering in his face from the side of the walkway, still furious with the PRIME legend for his recent betrayal of their trust. The flashing lights bounce off his shiny 5 Star Championship, which David mock-polishes amidst his total excitement.

Nick: I’m just saying maybe he could have taken an hour or two out of his schedule to mix things up a bit...

Richard: Get real, Nick. Boda’s too busy keeping clean and being awesome to waste his time. Priorities, huh? Y’know, those things you’re always telling me about... "Richard, should you really be spending all that cash on strippers when your illegitimate children are going without hot meals and clean clothes?" Come on man, practice what you preach...

Nick lets out a trademark "tut" and gives a shake of the head as Richard jumps yet again to two more sets of pyrotechnics that shoot down from the rafters to the stage at the top of the ramp, illuminating the air behind Boda and showing off his humungous physique as a looming shadow approaching the ring...

David: Colossus VII... prepare for greatness... because he is here... from beautiful Orlando, Florida on the best coast, the EAST COAST of these United States of America, weighing in at a jaw-dropping, heart-pounding, three-hundred-twenty-five pounds and standing at an impressive, majestic six-feet-eleven inches...

"Hold your eyes closed, take me in
Hold your eyes closed, take me in"

Richard: Boda is pretty jaw-dropping, heart-pounding, impressive and majestic...

The First looks on, hopping up and down from left-to-right to keep himself warm and ready for battle as "Remedy" by Seether fades out and the lights come back on.

Nick: I have to admit that Boda looks in the best shape of his life. That championship belt looks tiny on his should-

...A thunder of pyrotechnics from the stage erupt...

Nick: -HOLY SMOKES THAT WAS A BIG ONE! Y’okay there partner?

Richard is silent, shocked by the enormity of the explosion.

"Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "You'll be the death of me"
Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail
And so we go back to the remedy
Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie
And tell yourself, "You'll be the death of me"

David: He is a former Universal Champion, a legend of the squared circle... the man that is taking FIVE STAR TO THE NEXT LEVEL... THE PRIME FIVE STAR CHAMPION... BODAAAAAAAAAAAA!


Boda steps up onto the apron and over the top rope in one smooth, swift motion. Removing the championship from his right shoulder, he holds it up high in the air and pounds his chest with his left fist... snarling all around the ring and settling his grimace upon The First, who, to his eternal credit, remains unperturbed by the imposing figure of the champion.

Nick: Even with all the paint on his face, it’s clear to see First is refusing to bow to the psychological will of the champion and is standing his ground here...

Richard: Yeah even with all of that crap I can still see the terror in his eyes. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, don’t they Nick? Well his eyes are telling me that his soul, even if it is truly the oldest on the planet, is absolutely terrified of the "Big Bad Boda Daddy"!

Nick: As usual I’m going to have to disagree with you there partner, even though he is giving up one-hundred-twenty-five in weight and just shy of an entire foot of height, I’m impressed by this youngster’s moxy. Though if his story is true then I’m sure he has seen far worse than Boda in his time!

Max Newell calls the two competitors to the center of the ring as the stadium lighting returns to normal, David is still bouncing around beside Boda, trash-talking The First and goading him with the championship belt. First remains unmoved as Muse applauds from ringside, turning to the crowd to engender some support for her guy.

Nick: The match official explaining the rules to these two men here; and in a first blood match there really can’t be all that much to say…

Richard: Damn right Nick, anything goes and it’s just a matter of how quickly Boda can smear that white face-paint a beautiful shade of crimson red.

Boda again snarls down at First as Newell is able to wrestle the title belt away from David. The champ leans down and has a word in his younger brother’s ear, who simply nods apologetically and steps quickly from the ring to the entrance side, leaving the two wrestlers alone with the referee, who holds the championship up to all four sides of the ring, allowing the PRIMEates to bask in its wondrous glow…

Nick: I think Boda was saying to David that it was time to focus now… for all the bluster of the big man I know him too damn well to believe that he thinks this will be as easy as he says it will. He has been around the block too many times to underestimate any opponent in PRIME. And that is what this is all about folks, that beautiful 5 Star Championship belt!

Richard: Well, as much as I disagree that First has even an iota of a chance here; it’s not all that difficult to make people bleed sometimes. I mean nature makes the lesser sex bleed on a pretty regular basis…

Nick: Did you genuinely just go there?

Richard: I did… and it wasn’t the first time. If you know what I’m saying…

Nick: Unfortunately, yes… yes I do.



Nick: …And Boda wasting no time going after his much smaller opponent!

The 5 Star Champion hears the bell and immediately unloads with one of his patented huge right hooks, but fortunately for First he is able to see it coming quickly enough to acrobatically slip underneath and land a superkick straight to the jaw. Muse applauds loudly, jumping up and down as she goes, while David fires a concerned look at his big brother.

Nick: First showing straight off the bat how he plans to attack this match, he’s going to be relying on his superior speed and agility to duck and weave out of Boda’s way and he will be looking to catch the champ with a lucky shot that causes him to spill blood.

Richard: What happens if Boda actually gets his hands on him though Nick? We saw on the last ReVolution just how much damage Boda can do to this freak in a very short space of time.

Nick: I hardly think a blindside attack involving a table is a fair judge of how these two match-up… and there’s no chairs involved here either… yet.

Boda checks his jaw with a wipe of his right palm, shakes it out, and grins at First, who has taken a step backwards and is simply waiting for the big man’s next attack.

Nick: Although the champion was barely moved by that impressive shot, he has just been given a taste of what to expect from a man who has already got the notable scalp of Tony Gamble on his record…

Max Newell motions for the two men to get into it again, as the crowd raise the decibel levels noticeably, perhaps realizing that if First is able to keep this going for any extended period then the underdog may just have a chance. Boda fakes a couple of shots, causing First to shimmy and sidestep and the two men begin to circle each other around the ring.


Nick: A very hesitant opening from both competitors, who realize that even the slightest drop of blood from them will see the match go in favor of their opponent. On such a big stage for such a big title the last thing either man wants is to lose this one early.

Boda begins to slowly close in on First, who is acutely aware of his surroundings and the menace provided by David lurking close to the apron on the stage-side of the ring. First checks his glance back at the smaller brother, allowing Boda a window of opportunity to lunge forwards again with a right hand…

Richard: This is it… he’s got h-

Nick: -First ducks out of the way again! He is just too fast for Boda in these early stages. The big man is going to have to wear him down if he wants to slow him down.

Boda snarls and spits down onto the apron, growing increasingly frustrated in the developing game of cat and mouse as the San Diego crowd eats it up. "The Outcast Hero" grins for the first time, realizing that he is begin to get into the head of his opponent, and the circling continues…

Nick: These PRIMEates are enthralled by this opening, knowing that all it might take is one occasion of contact for Boda to put The First out of commission… but wait a second, what’s this?

Richard: Oh man, he is just TOO smart! Boda might be my favorite 5 Star Champion since English and I LOVED me some Ian English.

Boda has seen it all before too many times though and is quick to stop the little game from continuing as he reaches his huge arms quickly over the ropes, grabbing enough strands of Muse’s hair to cause her sufficient distress and to break the First’s initial plan. She lets out a squeal and claws away at Boda’s forearm, but the trap is set and First steams in towards the champion…

Richard: Boda lays the trap… here comes the rat…

First unloads a few kicks into Boda’s shins, rattling the big man a little bit, but he is impressively fast on his feet himself as he releases Muse and spins around, gripping the First by his throat with both hands and squeezing for dear life. Boda lifts First up high into the air, increasing the pressure on his throat as Muse attempts to regain her composure… David applauds loudly and slams down onto the apron, impressed with the guile of his older brother.

Nick: Boda’s superior experience shows immediately there, although typically of his recent behavior he leans on one of the oldest dirty tricks in the book to suck The First in…

Richard: It’s hard to get out of the champ’s way when he has those huge hands wrapped so tightly around your scrawny little throat, huh freak?


Max Newell immediately kneels beside the fallen Boda to check exactly what his situation is as First drops to his feet and stumbles backwards into the ropes, gasping for air. We go to a split screen replay and allow Nick and Richard to digest exactly what just happened…

Nick: Boda had First trapped in that excruciating lifting chokehold and then… did First just spray some kind of mist into the champions’ eyes!?

Richard: That little cheater! He just hit Boda with some colorless poison mist! Disqualify him Newell, game over… Boda retains and we all go home happy…

Nick: No way Richard, this is a first blood match! No holds barred, no disqualifications, this doesn’t end until we have blood and we don’t have blood yet… we may soon though!

Boda is incapacitated and down on one knee, rubbing furiously at his eyes and coughing to free his system of whatever toxin First just spat directly into his face. The challenger has regained enough composure and breath to see his opportunity in front of him and he unloads on Boda with a flurry of sharp fists and feet. The big man staggers backwards and struggles to retain balance, but little brother sees the danger and is immediately up onto the apron, goading the First and trying to reach towards him.

Nick: Here comes the cavalry… I don’t know if First has briefed Muse at all on this tonight, but she may have to take some action here because this will go on all night in a match of this type if it is allowed to. Boda and David will do everything they can to keep the gold in their family.

On this first occasion, however, Muse does little to help as First sees David and makes an immediate beeline for him, pushing him forcefully from the apron and down hard onto the safety mats below.


Nick: First dishes out a little retribution and I bet most fans in this crowd loved to see that after the way David and Boda have conducted themselves lately-

Richard: -yeah, whatever… Look who’s back up though…

Indeed, Boda only needed a few seconds to gather himself and is waiting for the turning First with a huge big boot!

Nick: Incredible big boot by Boda and First is laid out flat on the canvas, just like we saw a little over one week ago at ReVolution 229!

Boda looks down to check on his little brother, seemingly frustrated that there is no weapon forthcoming, but glad that he is back up to his knees on the outside and looking okay. Muse again applauds and hollers, encouraging the fans to give First a little more backing…

Nick: Muse trying to stoke First back to life here a little, but the "Painted-Up Freak" is still down and doesn’t look like getting up anytime soon. I wonder if that mist was a one-time deal and the challenger has already used his one and only "get out of jail free" card?

Richard: I hope so. I really hate to see professional athletes stoop so low…

Nick guffaws as Boda wastes no time and mounts his much smaller opponent, propping his head up and knocking it right back down with vicious right hands…


…he breaks for a moment to raise a middle finger to all four sides of the stadium, delighting his little brother who follows suit and does exactly the same.


First’s face-paint begins to smudge as Boda resumes the right-handed attack against his forehead, smearing the white and black paint into a muddy gray mess…

Richard: Well we’ve had black, white and gray… I’m just waiting for crimson!

Nick: You might not have much longer to wait if Boda keeps up this heinous assault!

Boda lifts First’s head up again and surveys the damage, rubbing his huge palm across the forehead of his opponent and smearing the murky gray matter across his own chest as he steps up from him and again soaks in the disgust of the San Diegan crowd.

Nick: We’ve seen this side to Boda recently… not only content with beating his opponents and hurting them, this new added element of showboating while he is doing it really sticks in the craw of these fans.

Richard: He is just so confident right now Nick. He disposed of Garbage Bag Johnny with ease and looks to be in the best shape of his life… he knows he can afford to take the time out to make these fans look like the slack-jawed yokels that they are.

Boda turns his gaze from the crowd to his brother, who is apparently already one step ahead of him and is in the process of removing Vince Howard from his folded chair. Muse backs away from little Sloboda, realizing the odds are firmly stacked against her in this moment, but looks on in anguish as David folds the chair and slides it under the bottom rope for his brother…

Nick: This is how Boda drew blood last time out during the contract signing and it looks like he’s ready to bring this one home… First is looking pretty lifeless in there and even if he does manage to get back to his feet the only thing waiting for him is cold, hard steel in the hands of a crazed egomaniac!

Richard: I told you this one would be done and dusted as easy as pie Nick, Boda’s obviously bored with using First as a punching bag and is ready to bring this one home!

Boda gratefully lifts the chair from the canvas, shoots David a wink and wipes a tiny bead of sweat mockingly from his eyebrow, before bouncing the chair gently on the top rope and setting himself for the rise of the "Outcast Hero". First is writhing a little on the mat, groggily using the ropes on the opposite side of the ring to pull himself upward…

Nick: I wonder if First can see on the PRIME*View what is waiting for him… although I’m not sure if his vision will be functioning too well after that brutal assault on his orbital structure by the 5 Star Champion…

"Come on, come on" grizzles Boda impatiently, again bouncing the chair off the ropes… Meanwhile on the outside, David has remained in-situ to ensure that Muse has no say in the planned doom of her charge… First is now up to a vertical base and is hunched over the top rope, he begins to turn as Boda winds up the chair for the big connection…

Nick: First turns… Boda swings… OHHHH WHAT AN IMPACT!


Nick: Spinning heel kick from First sends the steel chair right back into the jaw of the champion!


Sensing the shift in momentum, the PRIME fans emit their customary excited gurgle as First shakes his fists out and moves towards the staggered Boda. Max Newell checks the champion for blood and immediately signals the "okay" to the challenger, who wastes no time in pursuing his foe…

Nick: Right hand, left hand, right hand… First is again unloading on Boda! Just like when he had him prone earlier one with that poison mist he has turned the momentum… oh but look who’s back!

Richard: Man I wish I had a brother like David!

Boda’s manager/ring announcer is again on the apron, desperately seeking to put the First off his game… Max Newell turns to the interruption and gets in his face, but the real difference is made by Muse who grabs him by the ankles and unceremoniously drags him down to the outside, slapping his face into the side of the ring as he goes.


Nick: Muse interjects herself for the first time there and is quickly out of dodge!

Richard: That harlot! She has now officially ruined her chance with me after that little move…

Back inside the ring First is still unloading on Boda, who remains impressively on one knee, absorbing blow after blow from the much smaller competitor. He covers up his face and gets enough blocks in to settle his buzzing head and lashes out with some shots of his own, staggering the challenger backwards into a defensive stance.

Nick: Boda possibly guilty of taking things for granted in the early going here, although like the rest of us I’m sure The First is something of a mystery to the 5 Star Champion.

Richard: "The Big Bad Boda Daddy" is simply paying the price for being such a showman, such an entertainer. He has never really been in serious danger so far, though…

Now back to his feet, we find ourselves back to how it all began as Boda lunges angrily forward and is ducked by a heavy-breathing First, who is slowing gradually as the match progresses.

Nick: First took a lot out of himself with that barrage on Boda and needs a little time here to catch his breath and get back up to speed…

Richard: …Boda on the other hands looks ready to go!

Boda maneuvers First back towards a corner and blocks any attempted ducking escapes from the challenger, finally pinning his back into the turnbuckles and launching into him with a huge shoulder block.

Nick: First paying the price there for not being a coward and escaping out of the ring, he stood his ground and took what was coming…

Boda arches back once more and drives another shoulder into the chest of First, driving more air out of his lungs in an attempt to further slow him up.

Richard: Boda using that gray matter again and really taking the spark out of First’s offense…


The PRIMEates, orchestrated by their Muse begin to chant vigorously in support of the underdog as David returns to his original position on the outside, motioning for his big brother to continue his shoulder-charge attack.

Nick: First driven back into that turnbuckle again and again and with absolutely no escape out of there… OHHHHHH! BIG POWERBOMB INTO THE TURNBUCKLE BY BODA!

Richard: If this was a regular match, then count me the one-two-three Newell because this would be over.

Nick: Let’s take a look at that again folks… already struggling for breath First didn’t even have a window to counter as Boda just ripped him from the mat and slammed him back into that turnbuckle.

First writhes again down on the canvas, clutching his lower back and attempting to roll as far away from his opponent as he can to try and recover his posture. Boda sneers down at him and then smirks around at the crowd, who realize that the big man is once again firmly in the driving seat…


Nick: No doubt The First has seen a lot in his time on this Earth, but I’m not sure if he has ever quite been in such a predicament against such a behemoth of a man…

Richard: …His dream of giving the so-called "mob" what they want by making Boda bleed looks to be nothing more than just that right now - this one could be over any second.

Nick: He hasn’t bled yet and he has taken some huge shots from the 5 Star Champion… all he needs is one good shot at Boda.

"The Big Bad Boda Daddy" grips First by the hair and drags him up to his feet, again propping him in the corner where the latest assault took place. He measures the "Outcast Hero" once more and drives yet another shoulder into his mid-section, much to the delight of David and distress of Muse…

Richard: Oh man, oh man! The First’s insides are gonna be like mush after this!

Nick: I don’t know if he is capable of another shot of mist, but that might be his only hope here as Boda continues to drive that huge right shoulder into his ribs.

The 5 Star Champion pulls away from his challenger, who crumples down to his knees in the corner fighting with every ounce of his being to breathe. He clutches at his chest as Boda admires his handiwork, driving a callous boot into the back of First as though dotting the "i" on his latest attack…


Nick: Boda looking imperious again for the time being, and try as she might to get these PRIMEates behind First once more they seem to be focusing more on abusing the champ than helping the challenger…

Richard: I think they realize First is a lost cause now, I wouldn’t be surprised if Boda has broken a few of that freak’s ribs… I’m surprised those shoulder-blocks haven’t snapped him in two yet given the size difference.

Nick: I wouldn’t count our challenger out just yet, you’re forgetting how impressive he’s been so far here in PRIME…

Richard: He hasn’t faced Boda before now, though…

Boda, seemingly intent on humiliating his opponent before making him bleed, reaches down towards him, takes a handful of his black wifebeater and simply rips it from his person. Holding it up to the crowd like a war trophy and then callously tossing it at Muse, who ducks out of the way, he smirks all around as he goes back to work…

Nick: Further boots to the lower back from Boda, who has slowed the pace of the match down to suit himself perfectly and is just decimating The First piece-by-piece.

Richard: As I’ve said numerous times already, it just shows the brains and experience of our wonderful champion… He knew First only had speed and agility as a weapon against him and he’s taken that away from him by pounding on his lungs and reducing his source of fuel. He’s also exposed more skin by ripping off that God-awful tank-top… so there’s more of him to bleed…

Nick: That’s about as insightful as I’ve ever heard y-


Our esteemed announcer is cut-off mid-flow by the PRIME crowd instantly firing back to life, as we go to another split-screen feature...

Richard: That little rat bastard did it again!

Nick: That colorless, obviously toxic liquid has just been spat right into Boda’s face for the second time tonight and First has bought himself some much needed time!

David is incensed with proceedings and he again jumps up to the apron, this time stepping through and man-handling the official. Max Newell angrily slaps David’s wagging finger out of his face, explaining forcefully that anything goes in the match and pointing down at the chair that David slid into the ring earlier as evidence.

Nick: Max Newell not being pushed around by David Sloboda here and as this argument continues, our two competitors are both down on their knees – albeit for very different reasons!

Richard: Yeah, First has been legitimately damaged and Boda has been cheated… again…


David’s complaints fall on deaf ears as Muse jumps up onto the apron to add her opinion to proceedings. Newell finds himself in the middle of a war of words between the two managers and doesn’t appear to know which way to turn. Muse focuses on goading David, although her insults aren’t caught by the PRIME microphones…

Nick: I can’t hear what Muse is yelling at David, but it seems to be working… the younger Sloboda seems to be absolutely incensed.

Richard: Get her Dave!

Boda’s younger brother casts Newell aside with a hard shove and heads straight for Muse, who drops from the apron to evade his grasp and skips around to a safer area. He rolls right out after her, taking the steel chair with him as he goes…

Nick: Boda already laid hands on Muse last time out at ReVolution and it appears little brother wants to emulate him… he’s really going after her. Surely he won’t use a steel chair on a woman though?

As Muse and David recreate the cat and mouse game from earlier on between First and Boda, the two actual competitors in the match are once again the focus of Max Newell’s attention as both seem to have got their focus back. They groggily rise to their feet and turn to face each other, each pulls back a right fist… only to be interrupted by Muse rushing straight between them and taking a huge shot to the side of the temple from the champion, sending her flying between the bottom and middle rope and to the outside with a sickening thud.


David stops short of suffering the same fate of getting between the competitors and skids down to his knees just short of both men’s position, while, stunned by the accidental attack on First’s valet, Boda seems to freeze for a second as Max Newell drops to his knees and rolls out of the ring to tend urgently to Muse, signaling to the trainers in the back as he goes… This is all the invitation First needs…


Nick: Sickening shot to Muse by Boda and although it was most definitely unintentional it has stunned him still for a moment…

Richard: She should never have been in there, in the middle of that… that ring is no place for a woman!

Nick: Tell that to Lindsay Troy or Karina Wolfenden… She looks badly hurt to me, but wait a second… First has turned to David… HE STRIPS THE CHAIR FROM HIM…



Richard: Nnnnnnnnoooooooooo!

Realizing immediately the implications, a previously terrified David launches himself at First, driving his fist up into his groin with a grotesque low-blow that leaves the challenger writhing on the mat.


Thinking fast again, David rolls his much larger brother pretty clumsily out of the ring, dropping him with another "thud" on the opposite side to where Newell remains tending to Muse, still without the assistance of anybody from the back…

Nick: First has won this match… he’s the 5 Star Champion, but our referee hasn’t seen it because he’s too busy keeping Muse in the recovery position. What the hell is David up to here?

Positioned so the camera can’t see exactly what is going on and shooting threatening looks up to the cameraman, David is working furiously away at the forehead of his older brother, dipping in and out of his pockets for materials, or utensils… or something.

Richard: He’s doing what any good cut man does and he is fixing that wound!

Nick: This isn’t boxing Richard! This match is over! The rules state that if someone bleeds, they lose!

Richard: The rules also state that the match official has to make the call… and he’s too busy fawning over a girl!

Nick: He might be saving her life, he’s not "fawning" for God’s sake, she’s in trouble!

The First, still suffering the effects of the vicious low-blow from David has stumbled back to his feet for long enough to see exactly what is going on ringside and his immediate concern is for Muse. Newell shoots him the "ok" signal as trainers join the scene to take care of her, allowing him to turn his attention towards the Sloboda brothers…

Nick: I don’t think First knows he cut him… I think the force of the shot turned Boda’s head towards us so that he didn’t see any blood.

Richard: This is beautiful!

Nick: It’s a damn crock!


Nick: OH MERCY! SUICIDE DIVE BY THE FIRST ONTO THE BROTHERS! We have total carnage out here folks, everyone involved in this match is laid out around the ring and Max Newell is standing in there trying to get a handle on what is going on. Check Boda, CHECK BODA DAMMIT!

Standing from his seat as the replay shows and pointing down towards Boda, Nick seems to have lost all control momentarily, signaling frantically at Newell but not really knowing how to represent "blood" in such a way. Somehow, the official seems to get the hint (or sees the blood splattered around his feet on the canvas) and rolls out of the ring to check on the competitors.



Nick: Where’s the damn blood? Wait a second… why is David bleeding now?


Richard: That’s brotherly love for ya Nick! David has cut HIMSELF and is claiming responsibility for the blood in the ring. Boda looks as good as new!

Nick: His whole damn forehead is shining like the North star with all that Vaseline on there!


Richard: Do you see any blood Nick? ‘Cause I sure don’t! And thank Hoyt… Max Newell doesn’t either!

Nick: Somehow Boda has got away with one… the match continues. Damn it. First has done it once though, he can do it again… and it seems these fans here in the Qualcomm Stadium agree with me!


The "Painted-Up Freak" is earliest to his feet after the suicide dive, with David still on his knees protesting innocence to Max Newell. Boda is also back in the game and the two men begin to slug it out amidst a backdrop of David being escorted from the ringside area by the gaggle of trainers and backstage staff who had helped Muse back to her feet.

Nick: Looks like both managers have been taken out of the equation here, though David is not going quietly!

Richard: Disgraceful! What has David Sloboda done to deserve this injustice? He has done nothing except be a loyal and trustworthy brother!

Nick: I think with Muse out of it and being carried backstage our official Max Newell felt he had better even things up and take out another combustible element at the same time. At the end of the day David has already had a huge say in this match with his patch-up work on his big brother that has kept the 5 Star Title in the family… for now.


While the commentators argue the merits of David’s expulsion from the match, Boda has easily gained the upper-hand on First in the war of the right hands and is in the process of pummeling him up against the ring. Max Newell has returned his full attention to proceedings and the match is very much back on course… leading the PRIMEates to finish bidding farewell to David as only they could and re-engage with what really matters here, the battle between Boda and The First.


Nick: These fans seem squarely behind the "Outcast Hero" now, after what they have seen from Boda and his brother!

Richard: What does it matter who is on your side in the audience when you’re getting the living daylights beaten out of you, Nick?

Boda breaks free from rearranging First’s face (mainly just his make-up) and looks around sadistically, settling his gaze upon the safety matting padded around the ringside area. He wedges his fingers in between the grooves and pulls up some of the matting to expose the cold, hard boarding below that separates the ringside area from the turf of the Qualcomm Stadium…

Nick: This does not bode well for First… Boda has exposed that wooden flooring and has that old sadistic look in his eyes!


First struggles for breath again, the earlier attacks on his respiratory system continuing to cause severe discomfort to the challenger, while Boda plants the safety padding to one side and leers forward for him, grabbing a handful of hair and dragging him upwards. He pulls him into a front face-lock position and raises his left fist defiantly into the air, before pounding it on his chest…

Nick: He’s not gonna do what I think he’s gonna do, is he!?

Richard: What do you think he’s gonna do?

Nick: That damn stalling brainbuster of his… onto the exposed wood…

Richard: Well, I’ve got bad news for you Nick…


Boda hoists First powerfully into the air and holds him as straight as a die, the toes of his black ring boots pointing up towards the clear night sky. Audience members and Nick gasp along with one another as Richard looks on, nodding manically, at the prospect of what is about to occur… Boda releases his left-armed grip on the First’s waist and again pounds on his chest before transitioning into the drop…





Boda immediately loses his grip on First, who drops majestically down to one knee onto the safety of the padding. The big man drops down to his knee for the third time in the match due to the poison mist of his opponent as a collective sigh of relief goes up around the venue.

Nick: For the third time tonight, The First has avoided certain doom by spitting that poison mist of his into the eyes of Boda! We haven’t seen this from him before, but I guess he’s never been involved in a no DQ match before here in PRIME! His silver bullet strikes again!

Richard: What the hell does he keep spitting!?

Nick: Some sort of colorless toxin, I’m sure The First has thought this through and is using colorless liquid so as not to cause any confusion about blood on Boda’s face. And now that David and Muse are out of here, there’s no chance of Max Newell not seeing Boda get busted open next time it happens!

Richard: There ain’t gonna be a "next time" buddy boy!


Nick: This match was surely over if Boda had been able to complete that huge stalling brainbuster of his, but again The First was equal to it… This match has not played out at all like Boda expected and he seems to have taken the "Outcast Hero" too lightly! Here he comes again…

Surely running on fumes now after his toughest PRIME battle to date on the biggest stage of his career, First hauls ass to Boda and repeats his actions of earlier in the match by wailing on the champion with right hands, left hands and the occasion sharp toe kick.

Richard: If First thinks he can bust open the "Big Bad Boda Daddy" with his puny fists or feet then he’s got to think again…

Nick: Uhhh Rich… I think he just thought again.

With Boda pummeled down into the ground, laying on the exposed wooden paneling beneath the safety mates, First senses the opportunity to put things to bed once and for all. He reaches inside of the ring and pulls out the now-curved steel chair that has already drew blood from Boda once tonight and holds it aloft, ever the entertainer…


The roar of anticipation that greets the action draws a huge grin from the "Painted-Up Freak", who hoists the chair into his right hand and mounts the apron. Heart set on reaching the top of the turnbuckle…

Nick: Look at these fans, who have already seen Boda bleed once tonight, they are baying to see him bleed a second time and to see First walk out of here with that 5 Star Title strapped around his waist!

Richard: It can’t happen, it won’t happen! BODA, GET UP!

Nick: First is almost there… I think I know what he has in his mind… CUT THE THREAD!


Nick: -LANDS!

First flips forward and places the chair underneath his right leg, before plummeting down forcefully onto the forehead of the still-incapacitated Boda.


Richard: …

Nick: Is he… is he BLEEDING!? Get in there Max!

Newell is already on his way, needing no prodding from Nick this time and having no distractions in the form of Muse to tend to, either. Beneath the crumpled mess of The First and the steel chair, Newell pokes his way around get a visual on Boda and immediately jumps to his feet and signals…


Nick: Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Richard: It’s gonna take more than a front-flip leg-drop with a chair assist to the skull to make Boda bleed, baby!

Nick: How in God’s name did he survive that?

The PRIME*View double feature explains with a double-angle of the incredible maneuver. While First was flying majestically through the air, Boda is shown putting both forearms up in front of his face to cushion the blow.

Richard: I mean how can Boda even SEE after taking three cheap shots of poison mist from that little freak!?

Nick: I honestly do not know… he must have a broken wrist, something… that was incredible!


The First looks incredulous, but is in as bad a way as his opponent after such a risky move. Both men lay in a crumpled heap on the exposed wood, only the steel chair separating them…

Nick: It has all been about a steel chair in this feud over the 5 Star Championship. Boda bloodied First with a chair last ReVolution, First extracted revenge tonight only for Max Newell to be out of the game while David patched his brother’s wound up and again it comes into play! Incredible.

Richard: Oh man… Boda looks hurt.

The big man is clutching his left wrist hard, which is no surprise considering the force it just took from the First’s finishing move. The First’s issue is with his legs, unsurprisingly…

Nick: Both men roll off each other, separated now only by the match official and the steel chair… it may just be a matter of which one gets to it before the other…



Boda is quickest to it, clutching it with his good hand and dragging it towards his battered carcass… First reaches out to grab a trailing leg and is forced to relinquish his grasp as Boda heaves one almighty tug towards him. The champ clutches the chair against his stomach and rolls onto all fours, clambering slowly upwards with the chair firmly in his grasp and using the announce table as a crutch. First is dragging himself up the ring drape, smearing his face-paint up the black material… they slowly reach their feet at the same precise moment, one having a serious advantage over the other…


Nick: Watch out First, he’s got that damn chair… OHHHHHHH!


Nick: First ducks out of the way…






Time seems to stand still as Boda lunges clumsily underneath the impressive superkick attempt from First… The 5 Star Champion spins, still swinging the chair one-handed and his momentum carries it heavily into the back of First’s head at an incredibly awkward angle!

Nick: For the love of God…

Richard: Ouuuuuuucccchhhhhhhhh!

Nick: That has to be it…

The broadcast partners groan in disgust as blood spatters across their notes and into their faces.


Richard: Argh! FREAK BLOOD!

Nick: Man oh man…

Boda drops to his knees and the chair hits wood with a dull thump. Max Newell signals to the timekeeper…


The audience and the announcers struggle to make a sound after what they have just witnessed as the camera switches from the ever-increasing pool of blood forming around First’s skull to Vince Howard, who is standing on ceremony, ready to deliver the final verdict:



They are quickly reignited as Max Newell reluctantly hands the 5 Star Championship to Boda, who’s head-wound from much earlier in the match begins to flow once more after he wipes his brow with his forearm. Replays of the sickening blow that finished the contest are broadcast around the stadium to groans of displeasure from most in attendance as the commentators compose themselves enough to wrap things up…

Nick: That forehead tells the story of the turning point in this match. First had Boda beaten, but due to an injury sustained by Muse that caused the match official to temporarily leave his post, his little brother David was able to fix him up and cheat his way to victory…

Richard: …it was ALL Boda from then on in though Nick. Not many people could have continued after that sick move from The First, but Boda did more than just continue… he WON and retained his title! If the rest of the night ends like this I’m getting two hookers tonight!

Nick: Again, the 5 Star Title remains with the champion at an odd-numbered Colossus… I don’t believe it.

Boda looks proudly, graciously even, down at his title before standing to his feet and hurriedly marching to the back to find his brother and share the celebration. Meanwhile, First finds himself in an incredibly similar position to his valet as he is hustled around by numerous medics and trainers from the backroom staff. He is able to stand to allow them to tend to his head-wound, rather groggily, and receives a warm ovation for his efforts from the San Diego crowd – his face now bereft of the Kefka design and covered in his own crimson blood.

Nick: First put up a great fight to Boda, gave far more than I think the champion expected, but it is the veteran who walks out of here with the victory… although he may have a broken wrist for his troubles. Don’t go anywhere though folks because there is so much more to come and up next we have a match that has literally been years in the making as Tony Gamble finally gets his hands on Devin Shakur at Colossus… inside a STEEL CAGE!

Richard: Yeah I cannot wait to see that… but first I’m gonna need to be cleaned up, vaccinated and sterilized… that was disgusting…


A camera is in Devin Shakur's office, watching final preparations for his upcoming match with Tony Gamble.

The Boss in Black is pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

Devin Shakur: We've got everything in place?

Christian Daniels, standing with shin and hand guards on nods in approval.

Christian Daniels: Don't worry bout it.

Shakur glances over at Daniels with an ired expression.

Shakur: I've got to worry because of all those people out there.

A profound point outside toward a section of Qualcomm where roster members are preparing for their matches.

Shakur: I know one of them could ruin this.

Daniels: Not'sa long as I'm round. I got ya back. VK got ya back, right Von?

Hessian comes from the office's back entrance, stuck like a pig from his long war against Chainz. He gives a nod of approval.

Daniels: Ya covered man. Just go on out der'n handle business.

Shakur: I can do this.

Daniels: Ain't no reason fer doubt.

Shakur: He's still trying to play that stupid bullshit act.

Daniels: And he gon get dropped.

Shakur: Let's go do this. Let's go make some more history.

The Boss in Black and Biker exit from their office and head toward gorilla.

Devin Shakur vs Tony Gamble


Nick: If you thought Sloan and Von Kelsig was a war, this one has makings to go down as a classic.

Richard: If by classic you mean demise of yet another wrestler at the hands of our fearless leader, then yes I would agree.

Nick: For a match like this, with so much behind it... Where do you start to summarize?

Richard: You can't. Gamble and Shakur are woven into PRIME's fabric like tag teams and great friends who ended up being bitter enemies. They could have been Rolo and Troy II, but took their own paths. One to superstardom and the other to failure.

Nick: Gamble can hardly be considered a failure. He is an accomplished superstar with accolades worthy of Hall of Fame consideration.

Richard: Yet, he will be facing a man who will undisputedly go into the Hall.

Nick: I think we're focusing a bit too much on your bias for Shakur. We need to focus on history of match and get rolling into our video package for this match.

Richard: Wonder how those boys in the truck were able to compile this sucker.

Nick: Let's take a look.

ReVolution 122 - The First Encounter

Cocking his head back and taking a shot from the Tic Tacs, Gamble hardly notices the projectile that glimmers under the lights as it flies past his ear.


The only reason he notices it, is the fact that it sticks into a dartboard at the end of the hall with a loud thud.

Tony Gamble: What the...

He turns around to find Devin Shakur casually strolling in his direction.

Tony Gamble: What the hell is your problem, you could've killed me.

Devin Shakur: Could've... If I wanted to you'd be dead.

Shakur points to the dart board, where the knife has lodged itself perfectly into the center red circle – the bullseye.

Tony Gamble: The hell are you practicing knife throwing for in the damn hallway?

ReVolution 123 - Reality Drops In

His next destination, the dining room, where else would you find a man in search of a Sammich? His mission is halted by a slight tremor in the floor. He turns to find an anvil in the same spot he just walked through.

Shakur: Dammit!

Gamble takes a step back and looks up at the ceiling, where he finds the head of Devin Shakur looking down at his failure.

Tony Gamble: What the hell are you...? No, wait. Where the hell did you find a damn anvil?

Devin Shakur: This pyromaniac, paranoid, psychotic brown coated coyote was selling them outside for…FIE DOLLAH!

Tony Gamble: Wow, that's pretty cheap. Hopefully you didn't scratch it too bad when you dropped it, it's hard to find good quality like that at such a cheap... Wait, why the hell did you drop it?

ReVolution 125 - This Is Gonna Hurt Me A Lot Worse Than It's Gonna Hurt You

John Cantelly is holding the top of a big box that is slanted sideways toward the door, apparently keeping the top from exploding open.

Devin Shakur: Correct.

John Cantelly: Why did you want this so low though?

Devin Shakur: Well you know how short Tony Gamble is don’t you? This should hit him in the head.

John Cantelly: Even though it would hit a regular man in the nuts.

Later in the Seg...

Gamble smirks and continues walking until he gets to the box that Devin was staring at earlier. Gamble puts the doll into his pocket and picks up the box. It reads


Gamble opens up the box and is about to look inside when his cellular phone vibrates. Devin Shakur cannot hear this and rushes in behind Gamble, attempting to push him out into the wet floor…

But Gamble moves to the side, pulls out the phone, and puts it up to his ear.

Tony Gamble: HERRO?

Devin Shakur meanwhile slides down the corridor, trying to gain his balance.


Once Devin Shakur gets near the open door…



Devin Shakur goes down in a heap and curls up in the fetal position.

John Cantelly: Uh oh.

Cantelly makes a run for it down the corridor.

Tony Gamble looks up and gives one of those creepy Spy vs. Spy snickers before going back down the corridor, once again amusing himself with the Sonny Silver doll.



ReVolution 132 - Rollin Rollin Rollin

What Shakur sees when his eyes look left is so befuddling, Shakur cocks his head to the side and can’t get it out of that position.

Tony Gamble is rolling toward him on the ground.

Devin Shakur: What in the unholy shit are you doing?

Tony Gamble comes up to a standing position.

Tony Gamble: What, that's how I roll.

Cue up the rimshot.

Later in the seg...

Devin Shakur: Oh, and one more thing…

Quicker than Gamble can react, Shakur pulls out a pair of lighters from his pockets and sets the shirt that Gamble is wearing on fire.

Tony Gamble: GAH!

Quickly, Gamble is forced to do three things…




Gamble is flailing around on the ground like a little midget who is on fire.


Some stagehands rush in and put the Grin’s shirt out. Unfortunately, Gamble is not going to pretend that he is on fire and need help from Tom Cruise. Shakur snickers to himself before walking away from the scene of the crime.

Devin Shakur: That’s how I roll.

ReVolution 137 - A Touching Moment

Tony Gamble: Glad to see that we could come to terms on something.

Devin Shakur: Ditto

Tony Gamble: Just one more thing…

Devin Shakur: OOF!

…Until Gamble puts his foot into Shakur’s mini commie emos, causing him to curl up into a ball on the ground, Gamble meanwhile gives a satisfying smirk.

Tony Gamble: Just one more example of you not being ready for the prize…I’m going for that Universal Championship and nobody is going to stop me…Nobody.

ReVolution 138 - Burying the Hatchet

Devin Shakur: Cute, look I have a proposal for you.

Tony Gamble: Sorry, I'm already engaged.

Devin Shakur: That's not... Look, I’ll get right to the point. You hate me and I really hate you.

Tony Gamble: Yeah, I’m still getting seasoning thrown on me by random people when I walk into the KFC from when you burned me on 131.

Devin Shakur: But it is a known fact that we both are rather hated by the rest of the roster.

Shakur extends his hand out to Gamble, who mulls the proposition over for a second inside of his head. He chuckles and shakes the hand of Commie Emo.

Tony Gamble: Just one concern that you might want to have in this whole scenario.

Devin Shakur: Which is?

Tony Gamble: You know I’m going to destroy you at the end of the road, right?

Devin Shakur: I can’t see how that big ego can fit in the short body you have.

Tony Gamble: Big things come in small packages.

Devin Shakur: I walked right into that one.

Tony Gamble: It happens to the best of them.

ReVolution 141 - 2 Wild and Crazy Guys

Tony Gamble kicks the door in and walks up to his limbering partner who just stares at him.


Devin Shakur: …

Tony Gamble: After all we have been through…

Devin Shakur: I still don’t know what you are talking about.

Tony Gamble: All those times I stood by your bed and made sure you were asleep before leaving your house-

Devin Shakur: WHOA! What? How did you get into my house?

Tony Gamble: Figure of speech.

Devin Shakur: Are you sure, you don’t weigh over 200 pounds, I’m sure you can fit through some cracks in windows.

Gamble lets out a nervous chuckle and puts his hand on Shakur’s shoulder.

Tony Gamble: …Ok I could be lying. I have seen Sun Tzu naked.

Devin Shakur: DUDE!

Tony Gamble: Only kidding…OR AM I?

Tony gives a >=J at Shakur

Tony Gamble: No, no, really I’m kidding…OR AM I?

Another >=J

Tony Gamble: Ok, ok, I’m ribbing you…MAYBE NOT!

Devin Shakur slams his head into his hand and shakes it vehemently.

Devin Shakur: The next thing you are going to tell me is that you got us fake IDs and we’re supposed to crash a high school party in hopes of getting your fat ass laid.

Tony Gamble: What? That was three shows ago. We’re not quoting Superbad anymore.

Devin gives a cheesy look to the camera.

Devin Shakur: I still am McLovin

Tony Gamble: Ratings…Down 2.4 points in the last second, nice job.

Devin Shakur: Ok, so wait, you came in here angry. Why were you?

Tony Gamble: I came in here angry?

Devin whips out a DVR remote, hits the Live Pause button, pausing PRIME television as we know it. He then rewinds the segment back to where Gamble roid rages his way into the locker room and screams his head off at Shakur. Commie Emo then fast forwards the segment back to the present point.

Tony Gamble: Oh, yes, can I have a second to get back into character?

Devin Shakur: Yeah, sure.

Gamble pulls a cap out of his back pocket and puts it on his head. He then turns it around and talks out of the side of his mouth.

Deep breath…In and outtt>=J

Gamble: When I turn my cap around, it's like flipping a switch, you know. I'm in the zone.

Devin Shakur: I think that was implied, dumbass.


Devin Shakur: Why does this bother you?

Tony Gamble: Dude, I didn’t want to show you this until later…

Devin is shocked and expresses it like this >=O

Devin Shakur: Oh God, Tony…Wait, you’ve seen Sun Tzu naked. You know I’m not leaving her for you.

Tony Gamble: …NO! Ugh, what were you thinking?


Tony Gamble: Wow, we’ve got to stop giving off that vibe you know? Rumors might start floating…

Devin Shakur: Ok, what didn’t you want to show me?

Gamble reaches into his pocket and in a box that looks suspiciously like two engagement pieces of jewelry. He busts out…

Tony Gamble: What do you think?

Devin Shakur: …

BFF Bracelets

Devin Shakur: Um…Yeah, we need to discuss this later. I have to go Tag Team back again, check into wreckin, let’s begin, WHOOMP THERE I…Sorry, yeah I have to go. I promise we’ll talk about this.

Shakur turns and goes to exit the room but finds a rather dorky looking man standing in the way.



Blaine Blair: Where's the other one?

Tony and Devin stare at each other for a moment, then glance behind them before shrugging their shoulders.

Blaine Blair: Don't play dumb with me, where's Silver?

Tony Gamble: I just saw him on the monitor, so he should be around here somewhere. Why would you look in here?

Blaine Blair: That little stunt the three of you pulled at 140. I'm not going through another Fuck You right now, so this ends now.

Devin Shakur: I have to admit that our actions were completely innocent.

Tony Gamble: Yeah, we didn't even know Silver would be there.

Blaine furrows his brow.

Blaine Blair: He was in the match.

Tony and Devin look at each other, then they look back at Blaire.

Tony Gamble: Was he?

Blaine Blair: You guys are beating around the bush.

Devin and Tony look at each other and snicker.

Devin Shakur: Dude…We SO never do that, right?

Double high five.

Blaine Blair: Stop playing dumb with me!

Tony Gamble: No, this would be playing dumb with you.

Gamble disappears out of camera range for a second and reappears in a Lindsay Troy mask.

Blaine Blair: This is not some joke. PRIME is not going through another tumultuous time like that again.

Devin Shakur: No wait, dude, let me go get mine.

Shakur disappears from camera range, while Gamble scres with Blair’s suspenders and smacks his glasses down. Shakur reappears in a Ferg mask.

Blaine Blair: I’ve had it with you guys. If you guys do what I think you will do, there will be severe repercussions…Bank on it.

Devin (Ferguson) Shakur: I totally respect Lindsay Troy…HAHAHA! I CAN’T SAY THAT WITH A STRAIGHT FACE!

Tony (Troy) Gamble: Wow, I already feel taller in this mask.

Blair walks off in disgust.

ReVolution 183 - Welcome Back, Welcome Back, Welcome Back

Shakur stands there, while Gamble performs, removing his trench coat and placing it on the nearby coat rack.

Tony Gamble: How long you been back man? Welcome, welcome, welcome, back.

Once again giving Shakur mad dap, Gamble reaches for the heavens and pulls down the OLD SKOOL MIC!!!!!!11111 He begins to break out into the actual lyrics of the song.

Tony Gamble: I see the girls in the club, they gettin' wild for me, and all the pretty chicks all wanna smile at me, these rap cats man they all got they style from me, and if I ever said hey man they probably bow to me-

Shakur twists the knob off, effectively kills The Grin's chances of ever becoming a major rap star. Gamble turns around and begrudgingly throws out his arms.


ReVolution 203 - Lost Cause

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

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

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

Tony Gamble: Why you gotta hate?

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

Tony Gamble: Bacon? Ooos, where?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tony Gamble: I might need some hairspray.

ReVolution 205 - Jason Snow Vs Jay Phoenix Vs Tony Gamble

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner…




Vince Howard: Toooooooonnnnyyyyy….

Nick: I’m still in shock. Jay Phoenix was so close, so many times, and then to have the title pulled out from under him like that?

Vince Howard: The Griiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnn….

Richard: Two time champ! Two time champ!


King of Kings 2009 - End of the Road

Devin Shakur: In fact, since we've gotten the Tyler Nelson fiasco out of the way, it's my time to shine. It's my time to leave the mark that I said I would leading up to this moment. I'm cashing in the Golden Ticket right now.

Another hush overtakes the crowd while Ares and Chainz stand a few feet away from The Man in Black.

Devin Shakur: You see, despite the hand I've been giving off to all of you on camera, you don't know what I'm playing...But you are about to find out. Sloan, Ares, I dare either of you to take a swipe at me...I dare either of you to take a swipe at your new BOSS.

ReVolution 215 - Elise Ares vs Tony Gamble

Shakur snaps his foot around and clocks Gamble in the side of his head with a Good Times Painful Memories.


Richard: Oh...My...God...

Nick: Shakur just knocked Gamble out!

Richard: And he's putting Ares on top of him!

Keeping his expression blank as a sheet of paper, Shakur reaches down and drags Ares over onto The Grin, draping an arm over his chest.

Luna Park sits in stunned silence while Shakur steps between the ropes and onto the floor. At the precise moment he exits the ring, Christian Daniels drops from the apron and the new boss heads around the ringside area.

Nick: I...I don't understand. What in the world was that for!

Richard: The Boyz in Da Hood are no more!

Culture Shock 2010 Night 1

Devin Shakur: No, Richard, I'm not firing Tony Gamble, but I'm making an executive decision. A man like Tony Gamble doesn't deserve to be placed in front of a Pay-Per-View audience when he has done next to nothing for the cause of the federation and cause of PRIME. Therefore, as a result of his insulting nature, I am pulling the plug on our match for this evening.

UltraViolence 2010

Shakur looks down at his brother who is pointing behind him in the ring.

The realization hits The Boss in Black and he swings around.

But not fast enough.


Nick: We're going to have a match. Devin Shakur going one on one with Tony Gamble.

The Grin with a small package.

Shakur is caught completely off guard and without his brother to give him any kind of assistance.





Nick: Oh My God! Ladies and Gentlemen, that is the quickest match in PRIME's history. Three seconds!

A match over four years in the making...

Devin Shakur: Ladies and Gentlemen, at Colossus VII, one of the feature attractions will be Devin Shakur... Vs Tony Gamble.

A match where only one can be left standing...

Devin Shakur: LOOK. AT. ME. ANTHONY.

Breathing intensifies, veins bulge, eyes grow wide, fists clinch in anger.


A close up on his dark brown eyes.

Devin Shakur: At Colossus VII, you will rest in peace Anthony Gambillini. There's nothing you can do.

A match which could change PRIME's landscape forever...

Tony Gamble: There will be no one left to keep me away from you, no one left to stand in the way of giving you, once and for all, what you have deserved since the day you signed that first contract for PRIME.

He chuckles. It is soft, and you can barely see the expression on his face change, but it happens nonetheless.

Gamble: I hope you're ready for what you have coming, Devin, because I can assure you that out of all the battles you have had since you first stepped in a PRIME ring... None of them will compare to what you have in store for you at Colossus.

His eyes narrow slightly and that devilish grin practically screams for attention.

Gamble: See you soon, buddy.

Is now

Richard: My God, how comprehensive was that damn video? Those technicians dug through every fricken archive we have to come up with such elaborateness.

Nick: These men have a lot of history in their books, and now are finally going to collide at PRIME's biggest stage. Let's go up to Vince Howard, standing outside of Shakur's special steel cage for our announcements.

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen... The following GRUDGE match is scheduled for one wall with NO TIME LIMIT. This contest will be featured inside a steel cage with no escape!


Vince Howard: Introducing first, hailing from Raleigh, Nor-


Nick: They aren't even letting Vince Howard finish Shakur's introduction, and I don't know if I blame them one bit.

Richard: An injustice I tell you. This man deserves everything and then some for keeping PRIME afloat and giving these ingrates a chance to experience Colossus.

Nick: Christian Daniels actually picked-


Howard skips ahead a few beats on his notecards and tries to catch Qualcomm by surprise.


A snapshot inside the ring shows four sturdy blue sides of reinforced steel. A throwback to days when cage matches didn't have mesh fencing to soften blows and create flashy and catchy maneuvers.

Quinton Jackson's voice booms from speakers surrounding the PRIME*View


Shakur's infamous words spoken seconds before eliminating Tyler Rayne in 2010's Dual Halo. An image of Shakur appears on the PRIME*View and sends white hot heat throughout Qualcomm. People have been chomping to see Shakur get his comeuppance ever since he thoroughly decimated fans at PRIMEFest.

One by one, rafter lights and spotlights illuminating fans and sections of Qualcomm fade, leaving all in the dark.

Nick: This is a prolonged entrance. He's making everybody wait for his arrival. He's making Gamble wait just a bit longer to come out.

Finally, pitch black. Sporadic lighters pop up in random sections, but none are supportive for The Boss in Black. He has lost all hope of ever gaining a steady wave of fans for whatever remains of his PRIME career.

And Shakur holds those ever-increasing bloodthirsty maniacs in suspense a moment longer before cuing his theme song. The rage of enthusiastic PRIME fans only intensifies as Peter Frampton slowly glides his fingers over an acoustic guitar in the fashion of Chris Cornell.


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


Speak of the devil and he shall appear... Well, in most instances. Instead, pyrotechnics appear on both sides of the PRIME*View spelling out his name in black.


A black curtain is thrown open and out steps Devin Shakur. A long black trenchcoat covers his body from neck down. He isn't equipped with any weapons on his hands, although it doesn't mean he's not packing somewhere in such a giant coat. His pyrotechnics and such an overwhelming amount of crowd disdain are the only signs someone is standing on the main stage. No entrance video highlights his accolades. He doesn't really need one since most of his crimes are fresh in a lot of minds. Nobody is foreign to his macabre ways.

A face full of intensity guides Shakur down the aisle. He's been in this position on more than one occasion, and always in a feature attraction match. Even in his first year, he elevated three other stars high enough to garner a co-Main Event status and tonight is no exception.

Nick: And you can see the cage starting to rise up, just a little bit. Once both competitors are inside, it will come back down and nobody will be able to get in or get out.

Richard: Just how Shakur likes it. He wants his opponents to have no where to go and no where to hide.

Nick: If you need evidence of Shakur's track record in a match like this, look no further than Colossus VI: Bryan Dawkins. It was his first chance to hang with an elite member of PRIME, a Universal Champion, and Shakur came out victorious after using almost every element available inside this cage.

Richard: Daniels gave him a nice assist I thought.

Nick: He also used Daniels, thank you for bringing that up. While Hessian, if he's able to walk back out here, and Daniels, cannot get inside, they can certainly do damage from outside. The holes in between each bar on this cage are big enough for weapons to slide through. If Gamble has any friends, he might want to bring them down so his back can be watched.

Shakur ignores rabid fans on both aisle sides giving him a mouthful of words not repeatable even on Pay-Per-View. He has a single minded efficiency and isn't going to be deterred by people who won't influence an outcome. Calculated steps, as if they were preplanned, escort Shakur to ringside. He takes a military stance and poses for a second, staring at intracacies and all facets of his creation.

Nick: No flashy entrance for Shakur this year. He must have run out of stupid things to parody or helicopters to acquire.

Richard: He doesn't need an entrance. What would an entrance do for him that his presence alone cannot?

Shakur takes three steps forward and slides underneath the bottom rope. He moves to a standing position and removes his jacket, revealing black Armani dress attire from head to toe. He wouldn't be caught dead in anything else. A flick of his jacket to a ringside attendant is the main camera's last image of Shakur.

Vince Howard: Introducing his opponent... from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing in at 187 pounds... TONYYYYYYYYYYYYY GAMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!


Nick: And here comes Tony Gamble, a man who has been strangely peaceful ever since his return at UltraViolence 2010 from suspension.

Richard: Which everybody knows is a pile of shit. Gamble isn't nice. Shakur knows he isn't nice. He's going to get eaten up and sent to the alpha dog here tonight.

Nick: Be that as it may, Shakur said he wouldn't tap out to Gamble but respects what he has done in the ring. Gamble is the most technically sound man on this roster, and nobody can dispute his abilities when he puts forth an effort.

Richard: An effort isn't going to cut it against Shakur. He's going to need THE effort of a lifetime. This is his biggest match to date. Bigger than those times against Nova, Deville, Snow, Tsonda, or whoever. If he loses this match, he might lose his career. Actually, scratch that, he WILL lose his career.

While Nick and Richard have been bantering back and forth, no sign of Tony Gamble atop the rampway leads fans to believe something could be up.

And, indeed, something is up.

An army of Oompa Loompas emerge from behind a black curtain onto the main stage.

Richard: Oh, for the love of Christ.

Nick: Well, leave it to Gamble to have an elaborate entrance cooked up for Colossus.

Wearing traditional Oompa garb and orange facepaint, about fifty march down ringside tooting horns and acting as if they are part of a band.

Another sixty stroll out tooting various objects: A tuba, yes a group of them can hold one, saxophones, flutes, trumpets, cornets, anything one can conjure up with being involved in a band, Gamble has had shipped.

Shakur stands in the squared circle with an expressionless look. Although, one can speculate he's not happy at what is happening.

Six Oompas cartwheel out in perfect sychronization onto the Main Stage and stand on its left side.

Six more cartwheel onto the right side and come to a halt.

Raising small green microphones to their mouths, they all prepare to sing while their one hundred and ten counterparts clogging up the aisleway raise instruments high and prepare for a jolly number.

Via all those band instruments, an old school hip-hop beat emits from the Oompa Loompa band. The same hip-hop beat in Gamble's theme song, which those 12 Oompas pick up on quickly.

## 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 ##

Nick is in hysterics over at the announce table while Richard is on his Blackberry booking these guys for his birthday. You don't know how funny it is to hear Oompa Loompas actually singing sans signature tone. It's hilarious. Not so much as Chet Worth popping and locking, but this is damn funny in itself.

About 40 more Oompa Loompas emerge from that same black curtain carrying a throne about two feet high. Hey, these guys are midgets. They can't carry someone in ceremonious fashion high above their heads because they would get squished underneath. Gamble is sitting in a custom made gold throne in a sparkly band leader's uniform and permascar working overtime.


Nick: Gamble bringing out big guns for Colossus and keeping the tradition of eccentric entrances alive.

Richard: Did you steal that from the Angelo Deville thesaurus?

Nick: I stole it from his lesser known cousin, Donny Deville's book of alliterative phrases.

He has two batons in hand and is twirling them around while those in the band continue to pump out his theme song.

## 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 ##

Two female Oompas leap onto Gamble's throne and begin throwing Liberace style high kicks for the camera while Gamble instructs them on with his maestro fingers.

Richard: Alright, now that is something I haven't seen before.

Nick: Gamble is going Oompa crazy here tonight.

Richard: Paying homage to his roots, and is it wrong that I have a boner looking at those cheerleaders?

## 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 ##

Gamble even has some people in the first few rows singing along and dancing around as if they were part of the band.

## 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 ##

Finally, the band stops and Gamble is decelerated down onto the floor. He bows graciously to his Oompas before stepping up and removing his band leader's outfit. He tosses the flashy getup over into those stationed in Rows 5 and 6. They'll have a good fight over it.

Gamble turns to Shakur and holds up a finger before pointing back to his Oompas on stage, who have all gathered into a formation to spell out:


Three Oompas highstep around front and give a final extension on the E.


All the Oompas take a collective bow and exit through the curtain. Gamble slides underneath the bottom rope and watches as the cage door drops a few feet, signaling the official start of the match.


Richard: I still can't get those cheerleaders out of my head.

Nick: And here we go. The ultimate clash about ready to kick off right now.

Even though everybody is clamoring for fisticuffs, Shakur and Gamble are keeping a firm stance in their respective corners. Each man knows there is no where to run and no where to hide. A referee is only outside the squared circle to count three seconds, or see if someone submits. These two get to hammer out their differences mano-a-mano.

Shakur and Gamble take reluctant steps toward one another and eventually maneuver into a collar and elbow lockup. Gamble tries going low and sweeping under to get a submission, but Shakur keeps him clinched and backpedals Gamble into a corner. He pushes Gamble's neck back and uses a well placed knee to fend off any sneaky tactics The Grin may try and utilize. An elbow to Gamble's jaw connects flush before Shakur grabs hold of Gamble's left arm and goes for a whip across the ring. Gamble manages to reverse, sending Shakur back first into the buckle. The Boss in Black emerges from his corner and is given a back body drop for his efforts.

Gamble tries to swipe low and get hold of Shakur's leg, but Shakur rolls away and backs against west side ring ropes to prevent Gamble from locking on his finisher.


Nick: Gamble not confusing anybody with his game plan. He wants to lock on Smile for Me and make Shakur quit.

Richard: Not happening. The man said he would NEVER tap out to Tony Gamble and who wins with a submission these days anyway?

Gamble widens his smirk a bit and inches his fingers close together, indicating he was very close to getting Shakur in an unflattering position. Shakur doesn't bite and quickly hops to his feet, circling around, and looking for another lockup. Both men instinctively go for knees to their opponents groin, causing them to take a step back.

Richard: I KNEW IT! Gamble was just as ready to cheat as Shakur was.

Nick: Well, Gamble doesn't have to play nice when he's in the ring.

Richard: He's trying to be a fan favorite. Would a fan favorite knee someone else in the package?

Nick: If they are facing Shakur? Yes.

Gamble and Shakur come back for another lockup. Gamble sneaks around on Shakur's right side and locks hold of his arm, looking for a whip into a Japanese arm drag. Shakur doesn't go for it, dropping down, and flipping Gamble over with a fireman's carry. Shakur goes for an elbow to Gamble's face, looking to draw first blood, but Gamble rolls away and hops over Shakur, applying a front face lock. Shakur snap rolls away, getting behind Gamble and applying a hammerlock on his left arm. Gamble uses available space to roll underneath and escape, keeping hold of Shakur's arm while he kips up and jumps onto the top rope.

Nick: Amazing display of acrobatics by Gamble.

Gamble goes for a spinning heel kick, but Shakur keeps hold of his arm and slings him down. A loud roar of hatred is elicited from Qualcomm as Shakur drops a leg across Gamble's bicep and twists his wrist back.

Nick: Shakur said he wanted to fight and cripple Gamble, but from what we are seeing, he is fully content to try and outwrestle Gamble here early.

Richard: He's got to show he's better than Gamble before beating him senseless.

Nick: A task which could prove to come back and bite Shakur. He's not known for submission wrestling outside of what mixed martial arts considers submissions.

Richard: He is proving effective right now.

Shakur tries to separate Gamble's fingers while having his arm isolated. Gamble tries rolling back, but Shakur shifts his legs over and blocks Gamble. The Grin utters a profanity and tries again, but vice grips Shakur's left leg with his own. This causes Shakur to turn, let go of Gamble's arm temporarily, and put Gamble in a dominant position when he is able to spin up and around for a Figure Four attempt.


Nick: Figure four on the way. Gamble seems hellbent now on making Shakur quit.

Gamble spins on Shakur's left leg, but just as one would suspect a shift, Gamble drops down on Shakur's angled knee. A moan is heard from Shakur, who now has his knee locked in Gamble's clutches and can't do much to improve position.

Nick: This could bode well later on in the match. Gamble working over Shakur's leg so those kicks might not be as stiff.

Shakur tries kicking at Gamble with his free right leg, but Gamble is able to slide away and take Shakur's leg with him, pulling Shakur over toward the ropes at the same time. He wrenches on Shakur's ankle and rolls, standing back up and putting an elbow into Shakur's thigh. An irate Shakur tries pulling his leg free and upkicking a now standing Gamble, but The Grin is quick enough to dodge it. Another elbow into Shakur's thigh and Gamble now has rolled forward, bringing Shakur's leg up around his head in an awkward pinning predicament.




Nick: Gamble almost got Shakur there. Now he's going for a combo hold it would seem.

Gamble bends Shakur's leg at its kneecap and has a free hand to grab hold of Shakur's neck, wrenching it down and pulling to his right side.

Nick: It doesn't look flattering or entertaining, but Gamble has Shakur in prime position for a tap out. It would be very hard for him to escape -

Before Nick can finish his remark, Shakur musters enough strength to use Gamble's leverage against him, throwing himself backwards and flipping Gamble over for a crucifix pinfall attempt.




Both men stand up. Shakur gets kicked in his shin and planted with a DDT. Gamble gets on his back and paintbrushes The Boss in Black, who has no where to go with his legs underneath ring ropes.


Richard: Yeah, go ahead and muck it you chumps. Once Shakur gets himself right, only thing you'll be laughing at are these memories.

A low angled camera captures Shakur's angry face while his humiliation continues. He is growing more and more frustrated while Gamble seems more and more gleeful. After a few seconds, Shakur grabs hold of a bottom rope and moves to all fours. Although, Gamble sinks down and wraps an arm around Shakur's exposed neck. He also maneuvers his legs around Shakur's body in a triangle lock and cinches in his arms.

Nick: Rear naked choke! Gamble is going to beat Shakur with a rudimentary maneuver such as this? Oh man, Shakur won't live it down!

Richard: Come on Shakur! Don't let this amateur school you like that.

Nick: And with Shakur's stipulation, he can't go outside to collect his thoughts or get assistance from anybody hanging around outside. He's stuck.

Gamble might not be an aficionado of legitimate chokes, but he's got this one about right. Shakur is trying to drop his neck down and loosen Gamble's grip, maybe release it all together. Shakur tries pulling up, using those nearby ropes as an advantage. He brings himself up to one knee, and a few seconds later both knees. Using a massive amount of core strength, Shakur gets up to a standing position and falls face first into the canvas.


Richard: Ha! Gamble smacked his head on the canvas.

Nick: Apparently Shakur knew Gamble was too high and that's why he didn't immediately give up. He knew there was a sliver of hope and found enough strength to capitalize on that advantage.

Gamble doesn't move for a few seconds. Nobody expects him to, having just had his head slammed against a canvas. Shakur takes a moment to shake out his leg and catch his breath before pulling on the top rope and getting up. He stalks over to Gamble and grins at his longtime running buddy.

Richard: Now this is where the real fun begins.

Shakur bends down and paintbrushes Gamble hard against his neck. He does so again in a more insulting manner, dancing around, and then stomping on Gamble's head.

Nick: The man might have suffered a concussion, but Shakur doesn't care.

Richard: Of course he doesn't. Gamble brought this on himself.

Nick: I'm not even going to begin to dissect that.

Richard: Because you know how right I am.

The Boss in Black grabs Gamble around his shoulders and yanks him up. A hand goes into Gamble's chest while Shakur winds up his free arm.


Richard: Hardest knife edge chop in the biz now that Youngblood has packed it in. Fuck it, even before. Gamble's chest is gonna-


Richard: Be as red as a rose by the time this -


Richard: Assault is over.

Three knife edge chops later and Gamble is smarting, clutching his reddening chest while trying to establish distance from Shakur. He doesn't get much, because like Shakur couldn't earlier, Gamble can't escape from this structure. Shakur methodically follows Gamble into a corner and bulrushes ahead, landing a picture perfect clothesline that sends Gamble onto his backside. Shakur takes full advantage of Gamble's new position and places a boot against his throat, grabbing hold of the ropes for added leverage.


Gamble's feet hit canvas repeatedly, stomping away because Gamble is getting whatever remaining amount of life choked out of him. Shakur doesn't seem willing to relent, even if Elvis Nixon is pleading with him to release.

Richard: Shakur is going to get his money's worth out of this.

The abrasiveness of Shakur's boot is making life even tougher for Gamble, nicking and cutting at his face. After about fifteen seconds, Shakur relinquishes his grip and drives a knee into Gamble's forehead. Gamble's head snaps back while Shakur lands another knee and yanks Gamble toward center ring. Shakur takes hold of Gamble by his tights and head, flipping him over in a T-Bone suplex. Shakur dashes over for what appears to be a cover.


But is only an excuse to deliver more and more right hands.

Nick: Shakur putting Gamble in a slow and methodical brawl here. This is what Gamble desperately wanted to avoid.

Richard: And what Shakur oh so desperately wanted. Somebody fetch me some popcorn and a cheerleader. We're going to celebrate Cinci style.

A line of red trickles down Gamble's forehead onto his nose, sending Qualcomm into an even bigger wave of rage.

Richard: And Shakur has drawn first blood.

Nick: Shakur can't keep Gamble down like this forever.

Richard: Sure he can. He's got enough power in those punches.

Shakur lines up shot after shot after shot on Gamble until he looks loopy and in need of a doctor. A six o clock elbow furthers damage to Gamble, increasing that small line of blood into a bigger line.

Richard: Gamble is busted open good and we are just about to reach ten minutes.

Nick: We knew this would be long and drawn out, regardless of who was in control, but Shakur is about ready to kick it into another gear.

The Boss in Black doesn't extend his arms out and pose for fans like a traditional heel would. Instead, he pulls Gamble up and pushes him back against the cage. Gamble ricochets off and right into a belly to belly suplex from Shakur. He doesn't opt for a cover.

Nick: Shakur toying with Gamble here as we pass ten minutes. There isn't a time limit but Gamble might wish there was.

Richard: This is how Shakur operates. He's a real cerebral assassin, Nick. We all know that and Gamble knew going in what to expect. Shakur didn't deceive him.

Shakur swings around on his left knee and up to a vertical base. He walks over to Gamble and pulls his legs up, putting a lot of pressure on his neck and letting some more blood rush to his head. He decides to pull a play out of his favorite European wrestler's play book and lifts Gamble up. Shakur swings Gamble around and around and around and around.

Nick: A helicopter spin. This is going to do wonders for Gamble's head injury.

Richard: As if Shakur doesn't know that.

Five revolutions turn into six into seven into eight into nine and into ten. Shakur plants Gamble back first against the canvas and then slingshots him head first into the cage. Gamble backpedals, leaving Shakur to dash up and off farside ropes for a spinning elbow to Gamble's jaw. The Grin flops like a fish to the canvas while Shakur sits on the ropes and catches his breath.


Nick: Shakur now taunting Gamble yet again by taking a break. He could be making a big mistake here.

Richard: Nonsense, someone fetch the man a water and some pixie sticks.

Shakur puts hands to chin and rests in a condescending pose, acting as if he's pondering what to do next. Gamble paws out, looking for something to grab onto. He doesn't have much idea where he's at, let alone what to do when he finds out he's still involved in a fight. His head tilts up slightly, where he sees ropes, a cage, and Shakur's middle finger extended at him. His head dips back while Shakur dusts his hand.

Nick: One of the most proficient strikers is forgetting what should be priority one, finish the fight. He's had Gamble down this long. This match ought to be over, but Shakur's ego won't allow him to pin Gamble so early. I think he's proved whatever point he wanted to prove.

Richard: Oh no. He's not even close to proving it. This is a match FOUR years, and it can't be stressed enough, FOUR YEARS in the making. We're going to see resolution in all aspects for Shakur here tonight.

Gamble extends his right hand out, grazing the bottom rope. Shakur glances down in mock shock at his attempt to get up. Finally, Shakur drops down and gives Gamble an assist, a punt to his ribs. Gamble collapses in a heap while Shakur moves around and sits on Gamble's back. He points to a cameraman to come over and get reaction.

Richard: Shakur about ready to bust out the greatest finishing move ever.

Nick: Gamble's going to have one more injury to a potential concussion and stitches.

Shakur locks both arms in place on his knees and arches back on Gamble's forehead. In a spot quasi-reminiscent of Austin/Hart 97, Camera 4 gets a great shot of blood pouring down Gamble's face while he screams in anguish. Shakur locks his hands and wrenches back.

Nick: Shakur knows, just as Gamble does, even a rope break wouldn't get this hold off. The referee can't stop this match unless a pinfall or submission occurs.

Richard: And we've got the best seat in the house. I'm loving it.

Nick: You would enjoy watching a stalwart like Gamble suffer just because he pissed off your favorite wrestler.

Richard: He signs the checks too, Nick, he ought to be your favorite wrestler as well.

Gamble's eyes are shut, mostly to prevent blood from getting inside, but also because he's in an excruciating amount of pain. While established that Shakur can't beat Gamble in a submission for submission affair, he can sure do damage if a crude submission is applied. A camel clutch fits that bill perfectly. When Elvis Nixon comes around to see if Gamble gives in, he quietly mouths No. It doesn't inspire much hope in his fans.

Richard: He wants to break Gamble's back and not much is going to prevent him at this rate.

Nick: Shakur laying this one really thick. The arms are locked. The neck is being cranked very hard. He's not doing anything wrong here.

Richard: Best in the world at what he does. It doesn't matter what Jericho or anybody else says. Shakur rules all.

Shakur seems content to ride this out and wait for Gamble to submit. He tilts his head down and gives Gamble some words of encouragement.

Shakur: Your kid at home watching this, Gamble? How they liking this?

He wrenches on Gamble's neck harder.

Shakur: What about that slut of a wife? Huh? How's she enjoying watching you suffer like this?

Nick: Now he's just rubbing salt into an already huge wound.

Shakur: Come on, Gambs. Smile for em now. Show em daddy is invincible!

Richard: He took the whole bucket and dumped that salt in there with that one.

Maybe a bit too much. Gamble's eyes shoot open and whatever strength is in his reserves is coming out in droves. He scratches and claws at Shakur's hands, trying his best to do whatever is possible to maneuver out and get some distance.


Nick: Crowd getting behind Gamble now. While Shakur made his declaration public, we all know Gamble's probably not quitting either to Shakur.


In a further sign of disrespect, Shakur puts his fingers over Gamble's mouth and tries to prevent him from breathing properly. He cinches down on Gamble's back even further and pulls more strength from his upper body.

Richard: Give it up, Gamble. You don't stand a chance in this one.


The Grin sinks his teeth into Shakur's fingers, causing The Boss in Black to emit a string of profanities and lower his hands. He pulls them back to see if Gamble drew blood, which gives Gamble enough of an opportunity to move his arms down and get on all fours. When Shakur realizes his mistake, he tries to rectify but Gamble is already putting his hands on the bottom rope and pushing up.

Nick: Tony Gamble about ready to come back to life!

Richard: Push down! Push him down Shakur!

Shakur tries hitting Gamble on top of his head, but The Grin shakes off his attacker's shot with ease and gets up to a standing position. Shakur is still on his back, transitioning to a sleeper hold. Gamble goes to slam back, but Shakur slips his legs around Gamble's waist just before the anticipated drop and gets Gamble to stumble forward.


Richard: Quick thinking there by Shakur.

Nick: He's got a hybrid sleeper and rear naked choke. Trying to insult Gamble earlier for pulling that move from his play book.

Richard: Shakur will show him how it's done.

Gamble drops to his knees, which provides a bonus effect he might not have anticipated. Shakur is dropped throat first across the top rope and falls to Gamble's left side.


Nick: Gamble might not have realized that, but he got away with one right there!

Richard: He got lucky. Get it right.

Nick: Whatever the case, Gamble has a chance now.


Richard: Oh does he now?

Nick: What the hell is he doing out here?

Richard: Gamble has no chance. You heard Shakur earlier. No chance.

Stalking down the aisle is Christian Daniels, signature inch thick steel chain wrapped around his fist. He's also got a crowbar in his left hand, shades of last year when he rammed Bryan Dawkins to save Shakur from defeat.

Nick: Shakur calls the shots. He's able to do whatever is necessary to win, and frankly it sickens me. He's got all the cards in the deck.

Richard: He gave Gamble all the 2s and declared war.

Daniels snakes further and further toward ringside, but Gamble hasn't seen him yet. He's too busy trying to shake cobwebs loose and get up to his feet. Shakur glances to his right and grins upon seeing his backup arrive.

Nick: No Tyler Rayne in sight either. Gamble doesn't have a friend backstage willing to come out here either.

Richard: Another classic case of Gamble's past catching up to him.

Gamble tugs at the bottom rope and gets up to his knees, now having a full view of Daniels standing outside. He lets out a sigh while continuing up. Shakur bounces off opposite side and comes looking for Gamble's head. He tries a spear down low, but Gamble jumps over and lets Shakur smash head first into the cage.


Richard: Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

When Shakur bounces back, results are evident as a line of crimson pours down his forehead.

Nick: Now Shakur is busted open! We've got ourselves a match!

Gamble grabs two hands full of Shakur's hair and darts across the ring, releasing, and letting Shakur smash forehead first in front of Daniels. Daniels shouts encouragement while Gamble grabs Shakur and slings him again, this time into an adjacent side. Gamble lands sides three and four flawlessly, leaving Shakur to backpedal and fall into a dragon suplex, putting him on his neck. Cover.




Nick: No! Shakur barely kicks out before three.

Richard: Because he is the man!

Nick: You were sweating there just as much as anybody else was.

Gamble, finally with an upper hand in this contest, decides to amp up his offense. He grabs Shakur from a downed position and spins his arm around, hopping onto the top rope and walking along. His height gives him perfect access to walk without having to worry about bumping his head. Gamble stops midway and flips overhead, taking Shakur's arm at an unflattering angle down to the canvas. Shakur yelps out in pain, but Gamble isn't done. He takes Shakur back up and holds onto the arm, sliding through his legs, and coming up back side, spins around, and lands a Through DDT. Cover.




Shakur pulls his uninjured arm out in time.

Richard: There we go.

Nick: Shakur has gone from being in a dominant offensive position to being very close at losing this contest.

Richard: Pish-posh. He's got Daniels just in case he needs it and who knows where Hessian is. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Strife is hanging around backstage as well just in case.

Nick: As far as I'm concerned, Gamble only has to worry about Daniels and Shakur. There isn't a way for those other guys to get involved because the cage can't come up. Daniels might not even get his weapons in effectively or be able to provide much help. Shakur wanted it this way and now he's paying the price.

Gamble stirs from his prone position and keeps his attack going. He pulls Shakur up by his injured arm and boots him in his stomach. Gamble locks his arms around Shakur's waist and pulls back, turning Shakur upside down. Gamble leaps up and plants Shakur with a piledriver. Shakur flips out into a pinning predicament.

Nick: One hell of a piledriver. Can he get this?




Shakur doesn't stay down long enough. Gamble looks out at Nixon, who raises two fingers. He lets out a long sigh while Daniels stalks around toward both competitors.

Nick: Here comes Shakur's ultimate equalizer. Wonder what he's got in mind.

Daniels tries slipping his fingers through an opening, but can't get much more than two fingers in. He's useless in this position. Gamble moves himself and Shakur away from Daniels, over toward a turnbuckle. He props Shakur in the corner and rises up onto the middle turnbuckle with an extended fist. He looks down at Shakur.

Gamble: See how Sunny enjoys this.











Shakur stumbles out and drops to his knees, blood covering his face after such brutal shots. Gamble shoots off opposite side and lands a devastating shining wizard to Shakur's right ear. He hits canvas and Gamble goes for a pinfall.




Shakur went to kick out, but that is exactly what Gamble wanted. He spins around, fully prepared for this and locks Shakur's legs in a Texas cloverleaf. Shakur tries squirming up the ropes, but Gamble tugs him back to center ring and gets his fingers in Shakur's mouth.


Richard: NO! NO! NO! SHIT!

Nick: Gamble tricked Shakur into believing he was going for a pin!


Nick: He can't. Shakur's stipulation is going to come back and bite him. This hold is UNBREAKABLE!

Before Elvis Nixon can get over to see if Shakur will submit, he receives a thorough thwack from behind courtesy of Christian Daniels.


Richard: And the stipulation saves him again.

Nick: Dammit! Nixon is out cold!

Richard: And I would like to invite anymore referees who would like to come on down.

Nick: Yeah, because you know damn well none of them are going to come out here with that monster standing outside the ring.

Gamble, nonetheless, keeps his submission hold locked on tight. Shakur's arms haven't moved. It's either an indication he's punched himself out or doesn't want to give Gamble anymore leeway to apply an even bigger submission. He's been up and down the road with this man more than anybody and knows better.

Daniels points backstage and then motions with his hand in an upward motion.

Nick: What the hell is going on? OH COME ON!

Slowly, but surely, Gamble's submission hold is going to be broken via assistance. The cage is rising up and Daniels is all but ready to dive underneath and get involved to help protect Shakur.

Nick: Who in the hell is backstage doing this?

Richard: One guess and his initials are VK.

While he's still got daylight, Gamble squeezes on his Smile for Me as long as possible. Shakur has almost gone limp, but as stated previously, he's not giving up.

Nick: And here comes the help.

Daniels pulls on the top rope once he gets a chance and steps over into the ring. Gamble receives a boot to his skull, liberating Shakur from his predicament.


Nick: And I'll bet you the minute Daniels gets done in there, a referee is going to be waiting to come out.

Richard: Don't hate the players, hate the game.

Nick: You don't even know why you are saying that.

Daniels gets hold of Gamble with both hands and slings him across the ring. He quickly rushes in and lands a big clothesline, putting Gamble forward on spaghetti legs. Shakur is sprawled out, a pool of blood around his head, but there is no need for him to worry. Daniels rushes ahead and puts a massive elbow into the back of Gamble's head, dropping him like a bad habit.


Nick: I couldn't agree more with these people. Shakur wanted Gamble in a cage one on one and now it has become 2 on 1!

Shakur is regaining his senses over in a far corner while Daniels continues his assault on Gamble. An Irish whip into the ropes leads to a boot in Gamble's midsection. Daniels locks Gamble in a Fisherman suplex position and spikes him on his head. The Knockout Blow.


Nick: Just like that, Shakur has seized control of this match and not via his own merit, which makes it even more sickening.

Richard: You've seriously got to stop hating. Appreciate Shakur for all his greatness.

Daniels leaves Gamble lying dead center while he goes over and assists Shakur up to his feet. He dusts Shakur off and motions backstage.


Just as Nick predicted, Max Newall bolts down the aisle and enters the ring. Once he does, Shakur is fully recovered and motions for Daniels to pick Gamble up. A scoop from Daniels leaves Gamble stumbling about like a drunk. Daniels drops down onto the floor while Shakur uses his hands as a picture frame and sums up this moment.

Nick: And here it comes. This one is done.

Shakur's left foot swings around and clocks Gamble clean on the head. He drops like a ton of bricks while Newall dives into the ring and gets ready to count. Shakur raises his arms triumphantly and places a foot on Gamble's chest.





Richard: WHAT? WHAT? NO!

Nick: Newall is holding up two fingers!

Richard: BULLSHIT!

Nick: Gamble kicked out! Gamble kicked out of Shakur's Good Times Painful Memories!

Richard: NO! NO! NO! RECOUNT!

Shakur looks at Newall with disbelief. Newall holds up two fingers.

Nick: Mount Shakur is about to blow up in 5... 4... 3... 2...

He stomps at the ropes and questions how Newall could have counted so slow. Shakur then parades around the ring, dropping down and throwing perhaps one of the most emo temper tantrums ever recorded. Although, how many have ever been recorded?

Daniels takes Newall from the ring and slugs him with a right hand.


Richard: That's one way to get rid of bad officiating.

Tommy Giles makes a long walk down the aisle, knowing he is next up on the docket of officials.

Nick: Regardless of how many officials these guys knock out, Shakur still has to pin Gamble. It's a fascinating sight to see Shakur's master plan unraveling before our very eyes.

Shakur points down at Gamble and orders Daniels to pick him up. Daniels obliges while Giles continues making a reluctant walk down the aisle. Shakur winds his foot up a second time and prepares to land another kick.

Nick: For everything that has already happened, if Shakur lands a second kick, with Giles right there, I don't see how Shakur comes away without a victory.

Shakur's left foot winds up and swings around.

One of a few things could happen.

Gamble could duck, thus having Shakur hit Daniels.

Gamble could take the kick and have the match come to a close.

But neither does. Both men duck the kick, because Gamble kicked Daniels in his package and doubled him over. With a crouched over position, Gamble naturally missed Shakur's kick and let his foot sail over.


Gamble grabs hold of Shakur's right arm and spins him around, grabbing hold of his head and spiking him into the canvas with a Stop Laughing At Me.


Daniels crumbles to the canvas while Gamble takes his opportunity to cover Shakur. Giles slides underneath and makes a cover.




Shakur exerts a great amount of strength in kicking out before three.

Nick: So close! Gamble was so close! How did Shakur get out of that without help?

Richard: You are forgetting all Shakur's help still backstage: Hessian, Strife, and maybe even Boda. Those two aren't putting knives at each other's throat.

Shakur rolls out of the ring and plops against the floor. Daniels pulls on the bottom rope and tries getting to his feet while a bizarre incident is taking place overhead.

Nick: What the hell? The cage is lowering?

Richard: Oh, this is beautiful! Hessian is protecting Shakur by leaving Gamble in there with someone he can't pin!

Daniels observes what is going on and looks around with a bewildered expression. He screams backstage to keep the cage up, but his orders aren't satisfied. The cage keeps lowering.

Nick: Daniels doesn't want to be in there. He already knows what Gamble is capable of.

Richard: It's biding Shakur time though. Daniels needs to get that in his head. All Shakur needs is a few minutes to get his thoughts together and come up with a new plan of attack.

Daniels is swung around by Gamble and in true blue fashion, Gamble boots Daniels hard in his package again. Daniels drops to his knees. Instincts and rage bring him back up. Gamble hits him again. Again. Again.


The cage continues to lower while Shakur is struggling to get up by grasping onto the padded barricade.

Richard: No man should have to get kicked this many times.

Gamble drops down to his knees and unloads with a barrage of punches to Daniels' nuts. The Biker's eyes roll back in his head while he plummets to his back and curls into a fetal position. Gamble concludes his series of nut shots by leaping high and smashing his feet into Daniels face. In a quick moment of realization, he grabs Giles, and both men roll out of the ring just before the cage lowers.

A fast pan backstage to where the cage is being controlled shows an unconscious Hessian lying on concrete with a steel chair placed on his back.


Nick: Hessian! Hessian wasn't controlling that last cage incident!

Richard: Who was? Wait...

Nick: This means Shakur and Gamble are free to roam with a referee there to count. Daniels and Hessian have both been neutralized!


Nick: I just received word Strife has locked himself in his locker room and isn't coming out. Boda has already left the building!


Nick: We're going to get a proper resolution to this match. One we've waited for. Gamble and Shakur. One on one!

And with a wry smirk, Tony Gamble briefly leans against a barricade before stalking closer to Shakur.

The Boss in Black finally gets to his feet and sees his murky outcome. Daniels is in the cage. A fan screams to him Hessian has been taken out.

And then he looks over and sees Gamble.

But it's not the same Gamble who has been pandering to fans for weeks and weeks.

It's not even a Tony Gamble who would pull a prank, or laugh when one was pulled on him.

Shakur sees that Tony Gamble who made Angelo Deville tap.

Who made Jason Snow tap.

Who made Nova go to unprecedented limits at Culture Shock and UltraViolence.

Who stepped in and handled a spot in Fuck You like a pro.

Who decimated Hessian on multiple occasions.

Shakur doesn't like the look or the way he's carrying himself: Heavy breathing, clinched fists, blood decorating his face, and a giant smirk on his face.

He's beaming at this chance. A chance he's been waiting for.

Shakur runs.

Nick: And Gamble is going to chase him!

The Boss in Black doesn't want to be here anymore. He scurries around ringside time after time. Three times to be exact, but Gamble doesn't let up. He continues getting closer and closer. He's like a lion looking for his next kill.

Nick: Gamble's not going to get any closer and Shakur isn't exactly beating Usain Bolt anytime soon in a foot race.

Given his options, Shakur does what any man in a cage match would do.

He leaps up and tries to get away by climbing. Even with an injured leg, Shakur uses his overwhelming strength in those legs to climb. Climb as fast and hard as he can so he can get away from what seems like an inevitability.

Gamble gets a hold of his ankle just before Shakur reaches the apex.


Nick: Pull him down! Pull him down!

Shakur turns and kicks haphazardly. He wants to get that vice grip off his foot.

His first kick misses. Gamble still has hold. He climbs a rung.

Shakur goes for a second kick and misses again. Gamble goes up another rung. He's at waist level.

Shakur's third kick unlocks Gamble's grip and gives The Boss in Black enough room to leap up and onto the cage's top. Shakur rolls away, shouting down at a rising Daniels to give him a weapon.

Nick: Devin Shakur is scared. I've never seen him like this. He knows his luck is about to run out and is trying everything he can!

Richard: It's all a master ploy. A master ploy I tell you.

Gamble hops onto the cage and stands, calling Shakur to action. His worrisome eyes turn around and meet Gamble, who motions for Shakur to come forward.

Daniels isn't getting up anytime soon. He's still in agony on his knees.

Shakur turns around and charges. It's the only thing left in his bag of tricks. Maybe he'll land something. He doesn't know.

Gamble stands there, waiting for him. Shakur pulls his arm back and goes for a home run punch but fakes, stopping and going for a spinning Good Times Painful Memories. The same move which netted him a Universal Championship over two years ago.

But Gamble knows it is coming. He knows Shakur like the back of his hand and catches hold of his ankle.


Shakur hops around on one foot, trying desperately to think of something that will make this match even again.

But nothing comes to mind. Shakur has run out of ideas.

Gamble trips out his foot and flips him over onto his stomach.

He locks in a Texas cloverleaf and brings Shakur to the edge.

Over the edge.

And then pulls back on his Smile for Me.




Nick: If he doesn't tap, he's going to drop 20 feet with nobody to protect him. If he doesn't, then he's going to endure the Smile for Me.

With fingers in his mouth and Gamble focusing specifically on Shakur's injured leg, The Boss in Black is stuck in an ugly spot.

Nobody can blame him if he were to tap. He needs to protect his physical livelihood.

But his livelihood may come crashing to a halt if he taps out. He vowed never to tap out to Tony Gamble.

Shakur screams in anguish, praying, hoping something will come through and save him at the last possible second.

Daniels hand is on the steel cage and he is climbing, trying to help his brother.

Nick: Daniels! Dammit, he's up, is he going to get there.

Richard: He's still got that crowbar on him! He's about ten feet away!

Shakur is trying as hard as he can to hang on. Gamble is wrenching and pulling back on his neck, inching Shakur closer and closer to the floor.

Nick: Gamble is going to drop Shakur here if he doesn't tap. That'll be worse than submitting. He'll fall 20 feet on his head!

Richard: Maybe that would scramble his brain back to life and get him an idea!

Daniels reaches into his pocket and pulls out that infamous crowbar. He's on the middle rope and holding on, just to reach the top. He can almost reach and pull Gamble off if he gets a good enough shot.

Shakur's hands are flailing about. He can't grasp anything if he tries. He's got no where to go and is losing steam quick. His last ounces of energy are being sapped from him.

Daniels gets on the top rope and removes his hand holding the cage.


And slips, crotching himself on the top rope.

Gamble inches Shakur to the very edge. If he doesn't tap this time, he drops.

Shakur looks out into a sea of people begging for him to tap. He looks down. How far would the drop be?

How much damage would it really do?

He doesn't want to find out.

His hand smacks against his chest repeatedly.




But, proving he's not a complete tool, Gamble pulls Shakur back and lets him rest on top of the cage.

Richard: Fucking goddammit son of a bitch shit fucking hell!

Nick: Tony Gamble has defeated Devin Shakur in what ended up being a wild match!

Richard: Fucking little shit Gamble ended up conning Shakur. Someone duped Shakur.

Nick: It wasn't Shakur getting duped. It was karma finally coming back to bite him in the ass. All of Shakur's schemes for two plus years have finally come back, and he is on the losing end tonight.

Richard: Bullshit. Shakur would have gotten the W if it hadn't been for some decrepit piece of shit backstage ruining Shakur's cage controlling abilities.

Nick: Be that as it may, Shakur now knows what it feels like to be one of the many who comes out on the losing end.


Nick: And that man right there, Tony Gamble, has gotten himself back into the Universal Title hunt with a win over his running buddy.

Richard: He got lucky. I want to know who the hell pulled the switch backstage and made the cage come down on Daniels.

Nick: I think a bigger question would be who didn't? Shakur has a laundry list of enemies and any one of them could have been the culprit.

Richard: I'm willing to bet that person's initials are TR.

Nick: Regardless, Gamble has pulled off a victory, a big victory tonight.

The Grin poses on top of the steel cage for his fans, who explode vehemently in support of him. Shakur hides his face while staring down at Daniels, who is curled up still.

This one won't be easy to explain.

Gamble does a victory lap around the cage, posing and pointing down to specific signs.

He did it. He knocked off The Boss.

Just When You Thought All The Canucks Were Gone...

In a spacious locker room, somewhere between the gorilla position and catering, sits a very agitated Queen. The crowd roars in approval at the sight of her. Lindsay Troy's boot-clad feet are propped up on a coffee table, one crossed over the other, and her arms are folded over her stomach. Her eyes are closed and her breaths come out from her nostrils in huffs rather than a gentle stream. In any other situation, one might think she was taking a cat-nap, but Troy is trying to compose herself before walking into the heat of battle.

Dan Ryan, on the other hand, is surprisingly calm. He stands with his back propped up in a corner, watching his sister-in-law struggle with maintaining a serene demeanor. Four years of friendship with Matt Ward tossed down the drain because of things said that weren't meant. Nearly a year-long silence between them. It's a turbulent sea of emotions that she currently faces--Ryan no stranger to these types of situations himself--but he knows he needs to be a rock for her now. This is what family is for.

Ryan: You about ready?

Lindsay opens her eyes and looks over at him.

Troy: Until now, I didn't think I was ever going to be ready for this to come to a head.

Ryan: Ward started this last year and made it personal. So what if you wanted to send a little message to him, let him know where he stood when you came back. That doesn't erase what happened, what he said, how he's acted since.

Troy: No, it doesn't--and I'm angry. I'm angry at him. I'm angry at the expectations that I have to be there for everyone all the time and fix everything all the time. I stand up for myself and what happens? It blows up in my face. Just like it did with Wade and Tyler. Just like it did with Matt.

Ryan: There's a time and a place to dwell on this shit. Right now, isn't that time.

Troy: I know.

She swings her feet onto the floor and stands up.

Troy: I'm ready to put an exclamation point on his head, one to match that bullseye. He made it pretty clear he wants this over with. I'm happy to oblige.

Dan nods, then turns his head at a rapping on the door. He steps toward it and jerks it open.

A holy crap pop is heard all the way to Ocean Beach. Standing in the doorway is none other than the legend himself. The first ever PRIME Grand Slam winner and Hall of Fame Superstar: Killean Sirrajin.

Sirrajin: Couldn't let the biggest event in PRIME go by without seeing the Queen herself.

He pauses and looks through his trademark sunglasses at the hulking frame of the 6'7" Dan Ryan.

Sirrajin: Dan, pleasure.

He extends his hand to shake. Dan looks through his sunglasses down to Sirrajin's hand then back up.

Ryan: I heard Canadian is a contagious disease. You'll forgive me if I don't shake.

Troy steps to the door and smirks over Dan's shoulder.

Troy: Don't mind him, he's only a germophobe around Canucks.

Sirrajin: Har dee har.

He walks through the door as Ryan steps to the side and he puts his arms out, giving Lindsay a hug. She returns it in kind, winning an odd look from Ryan. The hug is short.

Ryan: You've either jinxed yourself or jinxed Ward as soon as you lay your hands on him. Don't touch me until you've deloused.

They separate, and The PRIME Choice looks her over.

Sirrajin: I know this is formality, but how're you feeling about this?

Lindsay scowls and takes a few steps backwards, away from the door.

Troy: I don't like it but then again, I don't have to. I just want it over with.

Killean nods as Ryan turns into the room, leaving The Supreme Machine by the door.

Sirrajin: I hear ya. It's been a bit of a roller coaster.

He pauses, running his hand through his hair and sighing.

Sirrajin: I did talk with Matt and he's feeling the same way, not that you care at the moment but you will when it matters. Who knows what the future will hold after this, but that bridge will be crossed when you come to it.

He shrugs and offers a slight smile even though he knew it would take a miracle to make the situation better.

Sirrajin: He was an ass.

Ryan (snorts): Might want to shift that tense to the present. He is an ass, and much worse than that.

Sirrajin: Aaaaaaand that is perhaps why he's being an ass. People sticking their nose in his business.

Before Ryan or Troy can retort, Killean holds up his hand. Shaking his head he continues.

Sirrajin: Look I'm not here to cause an argument. In fact I'm here for the exact opposite. Lindsay hun, Matt and you were friends, much like he and I are friends and like you and I are friends. But he's never had to pass a checkpoint in order to talk to you before and I think it's obvious that he didn't expect Dan here to play security when he was coming around as a friend, just like old times. Just an observation. Don't hang me for it, I haven't been in that ring for a year and don't know if I got it anymore.

Ryan: I know it's real hard for certain people around here to understand the concept of looking out for your family, but considering how much she's always done for everyone else without asking for much of anything in return, I think Lindsay gets the right to have someone around that she can rely on. I'm not here looking for anyone's approval for my methods, I'm here to do what's right by her.

Troy: Dan... (She glances at Killean) Look, Kill, Matt had the chance to make this right last year, either over the phone or in person, and he didn't. I wasn't going to go begging, either. I know you're another person on a long list who aren't thrilled with the concept of Tyler and I, but at least you were happy for me when I told you I was pregnant. At least you kept up with me during that time. Matt couldn't even fake it. And when I had to make those phone calls to tell people I lost the baby, I knew I could count on you to be there.

The Qualcomm crowd gasps at Troy's admittance. The reason for her anger towards her former friend--the reason why all this has been going on with the Inhuman Being--finally is out in the open.

Troy (continuing): Matt made his intentions pretty clear and I did the same thing when I came back here in May. If getting back to form and getting back to the top means having to step over the shattered remnants of four good years then I'm more than ready to walk down that road. I've cared too much about too many people for too damn long. It's about time I start caring about myself, first and foremost, from here on out.

Killean nods and smiles. He backs away to the door.

Sirrajin: Things will never change, you can count on me. My feelings for Tyler aside, a baby is a gift and Desiree is my proof. And for the record, I never said Matt was right in the way he handled things, just that he has his own arguments that some could construe as valid.

He pauses again, smirking and laughing a little.

Sirrajin: Good luck out there huh? Just don't make his wife a widow is all I ask.

Troy: Then you'd better tell Mary not to watch.

Killean smirks, gives a nod to Dan Ryan, and walks out the door. Dan watches him go then looks back down to Troy.

Ryan: Do you want me to get the Lysol now or later?

Troy: Later. I might need it after I wash the blood from my hands.

Matt Ward © vs. Lindsay Troy

It has been an incredible evening, filled with what will undoubtedly be moments remembered and relived for years to come. The stage of Colossus never fails to deliver... never disappoints, and tonight is no different. They say "There is Nothing Bigger", and perhaps that has never been more true than for the match set to go on next.

As the ocean breeze cools the San Diego night, Qualcomm Stadium buzzes. The fans may have burning throats and tired arms, but they let the adrenaline of the Colossus moment carry them, much as the superstars do, and as the biggest match in PRIME history hangs just minutes away, the pump their fists in their air, scream and cheer with all they have. There's always tomorrow to worry about the consequences.

Nick: Ladies and Gentlemen, what an evening its been, and after all that we've witnessed here tonight, we're down to the final two matches. And this one... this one promises to be worthy of the Colossus stage. This is the opportunity to witness two Hall of Famers in action, a rarity in the business these days. And it's the opportunity to see an unfortunately bitter, personal feud come to a violent climax. Two long-time friends-turned-enemies. In 2006 and 2007, Matt Ward and Lindsay Troy teamed together to ride PRIME of the cancer that was FU. They've been friends, partners, two of only five two-time Universal Champions in this company's history, and they are about to collide in a monumental match up. The winner is walking out with the Intense Title in their possession and the sweet satisfaction that comes with such an emotional victory in a such a personal battle. The loser... may not be walking out of here at all.

The crowd buzzes, nearly unable to contain their excitement when the tapping of a microphone booms out over the PA system. It's not Vince Howard, who is standing in the ring but whose microphone is by his side. An unseen female clears her throat into the microphone and the curtains part to reveal a wall of men dressed in medieval knightly armor. The woman begins to speak; a profound British accent greets the fans and the nose level in Qualcomm grows. Some know the voice as belonging to Dame Judy Dench, and word begins to spread throughout the crowd. She begins to read a passage from Shakespeare's Henry IV, Part 2...with some important words changed.

"How many thousand of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee,
And hushed with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber,
Than in the perfumed chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,
And lulled with sound of sweetest melody?

As she moves through the piece, so the knights move down the ramp, unsheathing their swords and holding them aloft so the points of the blades touch.

O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile
In loathsome beds, and leavest the queenly couch
A watch-case or a common 'larum bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the shipboy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge
And in the visitation of the winds,
Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them
With deafing clamor in the slippery clouds,
That, with the hurly, death itself awakes?
Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,
And, in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a queen? Then happy low, lie down!
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."

"ZERO" -- Smashing Pumpkins

(CUT TO: 'Ego Buster' flashes across the screen in rapid contrasting black and white. CUT TO: Dan Ryan gorilla presses Kevin Powers from inside the ring to the floor below. CUT TO: The word "YOU" flashes on the screen. CUT TO: Dan Ryan throws 'Living Legend' Mark Windham from the second level of Key Arena down to the first level. CUT TO: the word "ARE". CUT TO: Dan Ryan clotheslines 'Cocky' Craig Miles, nearly taking his head off. CUT TO: the word "BUSTED" CUT TO: rapid shots of Dan Ryan pulverizing opponents with the Humility Bomb, a last ride power bomb landing high angle on the neck.)

The crowd pop is thunderous as Dan Ryan walks out from the back. Pyro shoots out from all directions. He walks underneath the still-raised swords of the knights. Once he reaches the other side of the man-made tunnel, he whirls on his heel and looks back up to the top of the ramp with a smirk on his face. His music cuts off abruptly.


If you thought the noise for Dan Ryan was loud, the reaction for The Queen's music is deafening. Every person in Qualcomm rises to their feet as Lindsay Troy appears on the stage. Red, gold and purple pyro blast into the heavens. As she makes her way down towards the knights, they sheathe their swords and begin to kneel as she walks past them. Her demeanor is haughty, with her chin lifted in the air and her face hardened into stone. She strides past Dan and climbs into the ring, ascending the turnbuckles and throwing her arm into the air, acknowledging the fans and soaking in their adoration.

Richard: And now, it's time for the arrival of our champion.

Nick: Ward has had a stranglehold on the Intense Championship since winning it on the first ReVolution following Culture Shock. He even, somehow, fought through Shakur's 24-7 rule which left Ward on his toes at all times. That is, until he tucked tail and cut a deal with the devil...

Richard: He just wanted a match with The Ego Buster. And who can blame him? I've got half a mind to jump over this table and knock some sense into that over-grown fool myself. What's he even doin' out here?

Nick: Supporting his sister-in-law. I think that's fair.

With the crowd still buzzing, the stadium light shut off, casting Qualcomm in darkness, only the bit of light from the night sky keeping things from a state of pitch black.

Richard: Here we go, Nick!

Suddenly, the giant screens of the stage come to life, plain white sheets that cast the entire entrance set in a soft glow. In the middle of the sea of white, words begin to form in an elegant black font.

"At home I am a nice guy: but I don't want the world to know."

The words stay for just a moment before fading. They are quickly replaced by new.

"Humble people, I've found, don't get very far."
~Muhammad Ali~

Now the quote fades, and the white screens darken till they are as black as the eyes of a shark, and in the middle of the darkness, two simple words emerge.

The Greatest

From the stadium sound-system, Kanye West's "Amazing" begins to play as a spotlight glow just in front of the stage curtain. And then, from behind that curtain emerges an individual, but it’s not the Intense Champion, not the other half of this colossal match. Instead, out walks a figure that hasn’t been seen in a PRIME ring in ages. The black and white tights are unmistakable. The Rose. The devilish grin.

Nick: Is that…

Richard: Angelo Deville?

Nick: Wait a minute…

He begins a slow walk toward the ring, and as he travels the aisle, a light emerges on either side of the entrance way. As Deville walks away from the stage, a second figure emerges. This one is also unmistakable. The long hair. The beard. The flowing robes.

Richard: Praise Hoyt!

Nick: What the hell is going on here?

Another figure emerges from the stage, cast in the glow of the spotlight, before heading up the entrance way and taking a place opposite of Deville.

Richard: That’s our Universal Champion!

The camera zooms in on the figure and the reality becomes evident.

Nick: That’s not Vangelus Olsig. It looks like him, but that is absolutely not our Universal Champion. And that’s not actually Angelo Deville or Hoyt Willaims.

Now, the curtains have turned to floodgates, and imposters of the biggest names the wrestling business has ever seen begin to fill the stage, splitting into two rows and lining either side of the aisle from stage down to the ring.

Richard: There’s the Supreme Machine. And I think that guy with the beach towel wrapped around his neck is the Illustrious Eater of all things Faces.

Nick: It’s not Killean and its not Adam Dick. These are all look-alikes. Imposters of great wrestlers, past and present. That grungy looking guy is not actually Garbage Bag Johnny.

Richard: Well that guy sure looks like Jason Snow. That one like Violence Jack. And I’m pretty sure the ginger is Danny Fergu…

Nick: What the hell is the meaning of all this. We’ve got an Ivan Stanislav-looking guy.

Richard: We have a Clinton Sage sighting.

Without warning, as the last of the figures takes its place on the end of one of the rows, "Amazing" is silenced. But the eerie calm doesn’t last long.

"I Fucking Hate You" by Godsmack


Nick: I don’t know what this is all about… but the second that familiar music hit, this crowd just exploded in a nasty welcoming for the Inhuman Being. The Intense Champ might need security just to get to the ring.

Blue lights begin to blink on and off around the stage and across Qualcomm Stadium as the Inhuman Being pushes through the curtain, out in front of nearly a hundred thousand jeering fans. As soon as he comes into view, the boos just grow louder.

Richard: No respect.

With methodical steps, Matt Ward begins his march toward the ring. As he approaches the first of the figures on each side of the aisle, a Sonny Silver look-alike and an Aimz imposter, the two characters drop to a knee and lower their heads.

Another step from the PRIME Hall of Famer and another two iconic impersonators drop to a knee.

Nick: What in God’s…

Richard: Oh… they bow to him! Nick, you figured this out yet? These are all the superstars, all the champions, all the legends of this business who have stepped into a ring with the Inhuman Being and suffered defeat at his hands. Every one of these individuals… Chainz, Gamble, Snow, Sirrajin, Deville…


Nick: You’ve got to be kidding me. This has got to be the most egotistical, self…

Richard: Artistic and accurate. Look, I think I see four K-Wolf’s.

The Hall of Famer continues down the aisle, on either side of him, figures of Olsig and GBJ and Sage fall to the ground as he passes.

Richard: Victims of his… title matches, Dual Halo eliminations, roadblocks on the way to a JitC crown… this is incredible. I think I see Ivan Stanislav and Nova.

Nick: Nova?

Richard: GAN 2006.

Nick: What about the other four times?

Richard: Why don’t you shut up and appreciate this.

As Ward steps past the last of the figures, they drop to a knee on each side of him.

Richard: A pathway of humbled legends.

At the end of his road, paved with slain icons, The Inhuman Being comes to a stop just outside the ring and stares up over the ropes at the opponent who awaits him tonight.

His greatest friend. His new enemy. His past. His future.

His greatest challenge. The next step.

Troy’s eyes meet Matt’s. Neither blinks and neither lets their gaze wander for even a second as the Inhuman Being climbs up the ring stairs and steps between the ropes.

Nick: And after all that… ridiculous show… this is what we’re here for. This is the sort of moment that has made these individuals here tonight pay to fly from all over the country and join us here in San Diego. This is something special.

The lights return to normal as "I Fucking Hate You" fades away.

And all that is left are two of the greatest of all-time, a friendship gone terribly awry, and a chance for immortality.

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen… the following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for the Intense Champiiiiiioooonnnnsssshhhhiiiiiiippp! Introducing first… the challenger… from Tampa, Florida… she weighs in at 170lbs… she is a former two-time Tag Team champion, a two-time Universal Champion and a member of the PRIME Hall of Faaaaammmmeee! She is The Queen of the Ring… Liiinnnnnddddssssaaaaaayyyyy Tttrrrrrrooooooyyyyyy!

Nick: What an ovation for the Troy! Even with no roof, the roar of these fans is swallowing the stadium. I can barely hear!

Howard: And her…

Vince Howard attempts to complete his introductions, but has to stop and wait for the crowd to settle at least a little.

Howard: And her opponent… the champion… from Dayton, OH... he weighs in tonight at 243lbs… he is a former tag team champion, a former two-time Universal Champion, a member of the PRIME Hall of Fame, and the reigning Intense Chaaaammmmpppppiiioooonnnn… The Inhuman Being… Mmmmaaaaaaaaaattttttttttt Wwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrddddddddd!


Nick: I still can’t believe we’re here on the Colossus stage, listening to a deafening chorus of jeers for the man once affectionately known to fans across the world as ‘Tchu’.

Richard: Believe it, Nick. Ward has turned the page, started a new chapter of his life, and besides, anything he does here tonight is Troy’s fault. She started it.

Nick: Spoken like a true six year old

The boos from the crowd just continue to grow louder as Ward unfastens his Intense title and hands the belt over to referee Elvis Nixon. Folding the straps behind the large centerplate, Nixon holds the title high above his hands. A thousand flashbulbs explode, capturing the scene of two PRIME greats, eyes locked on each other as the ref showcases the championship gold.

Nick: This is it folks, the Intense title will be on the line, but there’s a lot more than just that at stake.

Richard: Make no doubt about it, those two superstars want to be able to walk out tonight and call themselves champion. It’s something they’ve each done countless times, and it never gets old. But this is personal. This runs deeper than gold, deeper than the win-loss column.

The boos turn to buzzing as Nixon hands off the title to Howard, who exits the ring, leaving the veteran official alone with the two former AFUC teammates. With one point of the finger and nod of the head, Nixon calls for the bell, and the biggest match in PRIME history is underway.


Nick: This is it… here we go… for the first time in Colossus history, two current Hall of Famers will clash. Between them they have held the Universal Championship on four occasions, the most ever for a one-on-one encounter in PRIME. And after nearly five years of domination, of friendship, we’re about to witness a cataclysmic match!

The two icons of the industry stare each other down, neither moving from their spot several feet apart. Slowly, Ward begins to spin, turning his back to his long/one-time friend.

Nick: What the hell is he doing?

As he turns, a large bullseye comes into view, crudely painted across the shoulders.

Richard: Brilliant!

Nick: C’mon! What is that?!

Richard: This is exactly what I meant when I said that Troy started this whole mess. She sent Ward that Uni title belt with the bullseyes on it. She made him a target. And for what? She turned her back on him, now he’s turning his back on her, saying "here it is, here’s your target".

Nick: Troy isn’t the one stabbing people in the back and taking cheap-shots. I think the Intense Champion is a little confused. He’s the one who brutally assaulted Troy. He crossed the line.

Matt stands in his place, spreading out his arms, leaving himself open.

"C’mon, Lindz! This what you want?"


Nick: What in god’s name happened to this guy?

Richard: He wised up, Nick.

Nick: After we found out what we heard earlier tonight… how can you be defending this guy? Troy has every right to have confronted Matt about this.

To no one’s surprise, Troy doesn’t make a move, folding her arms across her chest. After a few seconds, Ward turns back around and marches straight toward his former friend. Immediately, he begins to spit venom as he gets right in her face. As the words fly, Matt butts heads with Troy.

And that’s all the Queen of the Ring needs.

Face to face, fair as can be, she’s happy to oblige.


Troy fires off with a big right hand, then another. Before The Inhuman Being knows what is going on, he’s being assaulted by a flurry of stiff, nasty shots. Years of friendship, teaming up together, do nothing to cause Troy to pull her punches in the slightest. And as they connect, with increasing force, the Intense Champion is pushed back to the ropes, then knocked up and over, spilling to the mats outside.

Nick: What an explosion from Troy! She’s going to make sure that Ward gets everything he deserves here tonight.

Richard: He deserves a standing ovation for not laying down and being a doormat.

The Inhuman Being slams his fists against the ring apron in frustration, then grabs his chin. While the Intense Champ tries to re-align his jaw, the challenger darts across the ring, hitting the far ropes and coming back with high velocity. Dropping to the canvas, she slips under the bottom rope with a baseball slide, her heels clutching around Matt’s throat and tossing him through the air with a flying head-scissor.

Qualcomm Stadium explodes as Troy hops to her feet and stares down at her one time Team PRIME partner.

Her cold stare doesn’t last long, losing out in favor of more shit-kicking. As Matt pushes himself onto all fours, trying to shake the cobwebs out of his brain, he’s met with a field goal kick to the ribs that sits him up fast and leaves him screaming in agony.

Nick: What a shot to the side!

Richard: That’s an easy way to break a rib and puncture a lung. If you can’t breathe, you can’t win a match. Although if anybody could do it… this is the guy!

Nick: At this point, our champ is at risk of getting completely steamrolled in one of the shortest affairs in Colossus history.

With the crowd roaring, Troy fires off a well-placed snap kick to the ribs. Then another. The Inhuman Being is left on his knees, clutching his side with an excruciating look on his face. Without giving it a second thought, Lindsay Troy walks over to the barricade where she retrieves a steel folding chair from a fan the crowd.

Richard: Wait a minute…

Marching straight back toward PRIME’s Wrecking Ball, Troy takes a homerun swing. The crack of steel on skull can likely be heard in Los Angeles as The Inhuman Being is leveled flat.

Richard: Disqualification! Ring the bell, ref!

Nick: For what? This is an Intense Championship match, and that means its contested under intense rules. Anything goes. And that’s bad news for Tchu.

Richard: Don’t call him that. He’ll come over to this table and beat your ass.

Nick: He better worry about Lindsay Troy. Put aside Ward’s personal ‘rebranding’. Put aside the four years of friendship that has somehow soured. The fact of the matter is that Ward is in the ring with one of the most successful and talented competitors to ever grace a wrestling ring. Troy is as varied as they come. She can fly, she can tap you out, she out-wrestle you on the mat, or she can take your head off with a steel chair. And you have to wonder if that one was a little payback on behalf of The Ego Buster.

Satisfied with the noticeable dent in the chair, Troy drops the weapon and stands over the Intense Champion, pulling him off the ground with two fistfuls of hair. With a hefty shove, she sends Ward slamming into the steel steps. The Inhuman Being crashes into the stairs thigh-first and is folded up and over, coming to a rest across the top step. Slipping around and into position, Troy wraps an arm around Matt’s head and slides him forward. With Ward’s feet left propped on the steel steps, the Queen of the Ring drops to the mat, spiking her one-time ally’s face into the ground with a DDT.


Richard: That sounded worse than the chair!

Nick: The Queen of the Ring has come out of the gates absolutely on fire. You know she had been craving this opportunity ever since Ward stabbed her in the back at ReV 228. Tonight, on the biggest stage in PRIME’s seven year existence, she’s getting that opportunity, and she’s taking full advantage of it!

Richard: She doesn’t look like she’s missed a beat. No way in hell she was out of action for a year. Meanwhile, our champion is wrestling for the second time tonight. I call bullshit.

Nick: She looks very much in championship form. Like the Lindsay Troy of 2007, who had one of the most dominant Universal title reigns of all time.

Hooking the champion under the arms, Troy drags her opponent off the mats and shoves him back into the ring, rolling him under the bottom rope. Sliding in behind, she waits till Matt is to his feet, then charges in behind, looking to connect with a running bulldog. Instead, she runs right into a mule kick to the abdomen that derails her path, spinning her up and into the air.


Richard: Shot to the ovaries!

Nick: That was a hard kick that sent Troy crashing to the mats.

The Inhuman Being leans across the top rope, taking a moment to try and compose himself.

Richard: C’mon, Champ! Capitolize!

Troy is to her feet, and again, she makes a quick movement toward PRIME’s Wrecking Ball, but Ward sidesteps her assault and with one shove to the middle of the back, sends her face-first into the turnbuckle. As Troy bounces back, the Intense Champ grabs a fistful of hair and yanks her to the ground in savage fashion. The back of Lindz’ head smashes into the canvas.

Nick: There was nothing pretty about that, and with the force and intent behind it, you’d never know that these two were once best-friends.

Checking his forehead for blood, The Inhuman Being again tries to shake the cobwebs from his brain before going to work on his fellow former-two-time Uni Champ. A boot to the stomach is followed by a stomp to the right shoulder, then another. The Queen of the Ring tries to fight up through the stomps, but the force of 240+lbs behind the blows is too much.

Richard: He’s just stomping the life outta here now.

With two fistfuls of hair, Ward yanks Troy to her feet and tucks her away for a powerbomb. The Queen of the Ring reverses the move in mid-form, and as she goes down for the impact, she swings around trying to turn the move from powerbomb to hurricanranna. But Ward is ready for it and as Troy’s momentum carries her through the champ’s legs, he sits, and folds one of troy’s legs behind the other, creating a cloverleaf out of nowhere.

Nick: He’s got her locked up in the middle of the ring! Texas Cloverleaf a mile from the ropes.

Richard: Game over!

The Inhuman Being applies as much pressure as he can, applying torque with all that his body has. A roar explodes from his lips and spit flies from his mouth falling chin and collecting in his beard and he wrenches back even harder.

Nick: This is about the worst possible spot Lindsay Troy could be in. She’s nowhere near any set of ropes.

Richard: If she taps now, she’ll only have the sorrow of defeat. But at least she still have her back and shot at a career.

Elvis Nixon drops to the mat and asks Troy is she wants to call it quits. There’s no hesitation as she promptly answers with the negative.

Nick: No way in hell that Lindsay Troy will give up.

Slowly, The PRIME Hall of Famer pushes her torso off the canvas, and with hands planted in the mat, begins to pull herself toward the ropes, dragging another Hall of Famer with her.


Richard: They can chant her name all they want, root her on… what does it matter? As you so kindly pointed out earlier, this is under Intense rules, he doesn’t have to break a damn thing if she gets to the ropes.

Nick: Its, unfortunately, a good point

Troy continues to crawl, finally making it to the ropes, her face an expression of immense pain and exhaustion, but like Richard had mentioned, there’s no need for the Inhuman Being to break the hold. And he doesn’t, sitting back even further, causing Troy to shout out in agony.

Richard: Nixon is just shrugging his shoulders! There’s nothing he can do. HA.

But Lindsay Troy is a grizzled veteran of the ring, and she knows exactly what she’s doing. Not searching for a rope break, Troy grabs the end of the apron and begins to pull herself under the ropes, out of the ring.

Nick: If she can slide under the ropes, it’ll almost certainly break the hold!

Richard: The Champ isn’t going to let her do it.

Ward lifts his weight enough to pull Troy back toward the center of the squared circle. With steady steps, he walks her away from freedom, but at the last second, Troy grabs the bottom rope, abruptly halting her momentum. The sudden jerk causes Matt to lose his grip on her legs, and as the Queen slips free, she rolls and grabs an ankle, tripping the Wrecking Ball.

Nick: Anklelock! Not only did she break the hold, she reversed it! And now its Ward in the middle of the ring with nowhere to go and no possibility of a rope-break to help him!

Richard: How did all this happen?!

Troy twists the ankle in gruesome fashion, bending joints in ways they were never meant to bend. The Inhuman Being grabs his own hair, pulling in frustration, or maybe in hopes of giving his mind a different area of pain to focus on.

Nick: She’s got ‘im. He’s gonna tap.

Ward reaches an arm out, searching aimlessly for some sort of help. Realizing there’s nothing there, Matt shifts his weight, rolling onto his side. With his free leg off the ground, he kicks wildly, missing two or three times before finally placing a boot right under Troy’s jaw. Immediately, Lindz’ drops her hold.

Richard: Beautiful escape

Jumping to his feet, Matt hobbles around for a moment before putting his weight down on his ankle, walking it out.

Nick: A great job by both of these highly-decorated superstars to break those submissions. There showing everyone what has made them perhaps the top two wrestlers in the history of PRIME. That’s the kinda stuff that leads to multiple Universal Titles.

When Troy climbs to her feet, she is met with a clothesline that takes both competitors over the top rope, landing just a few feet away from Dan Ryan.

Richard: He better keep his distance.

Nick: He hasn’t even moved an inch since the match started. Calm down.

But it appears The Inhuman Being is thinking along the lines of Richard, and wanting to make sure that Ryan doesn’t make the first move… Ward does.

To his feet, Matt takes two quick steps over to The Ego Buster and fires off a massive right hook. The blow sends Ryan stumbling back into the barricade.

Nick: Cheap shot!

Richard: Friendly reminder.

Immediately, the Intense Champ is back over to Troy and as he drags her off the canvas, he slips behind her, locking in a choke. The move is less about destroying Troy and more about the concepts of human shields. Seeing a furious Dan Ryan coming his way, Ward keeps directly behind Troy, leaving Ryan’s sister-in-law between the two bulls.

Nick: What a coward! He takes a shot at Ryan then hides behind Troy!

Richard: It’s a rear choke, Nick, and its perfectly legal in this match. It just so happens that the move requires our champion to be positioned behind Troy. Ryan should go back to the locker room where he belongs. Even after this whole mess, largely his fault, he still won’t keep his nose out of something that should be between champ and challenger.

Ward slowly backs up, around the ringpost, as Nixon tries to plead with Ryan not to follow. The two hall of famers roll back into the ring, where Matt is on the offensive again. Wrapping his arms around Troy’s torso, he tosses her overhead with a belly to belly suplex that clears the entire length of the ring.

Richard: That looked like one of those Met-Rx Worlds’ Strongest Men throwing those kegs over the wall!

Nick: Ward using every bit of his 75lb weight and strength advantage to his liking.

Marching across the ring, Tchu picks Troy up and bends her backward, locking her away under one arm.

Nick: A reverse DDT…

But the Inhuman Being grabs hold of Troy’s pants and takes her up and over, planting her face first.

Richard: Make that a reverse suplex. And Troy just got flattened with that one!

Ward flips over and hooks a leg, making the first cover of the evening.




Nick: Kickout by Troy!


Ward wastes no time going back on the attack. Dragging Troy up by an arm, he whips her across the ring and catches her on the rebound with a beautiful snapping powerslam. And another pin.




And another kickout.

Nick: Troy isn’t going away, but the tides in this match have officially turned. And as the breeze picks up a bit here on the coast, the champion is dominating this contest.

Richard: That ocean breeze is the winds of change, Nick. The change from Tchu to Matt Ward, the change in mindset, and the change in control of this matchup.

Taking a moment to hop out of the ring, the Inhuman Being makes his way over to the same steel chair from earlier, the one with a cast of his face in it, and he grabs the weapon before sliding back into the ring.

Richard: Time for some payback.

As Troy rolls onto her stomach and pushes herself onto all fours, Matt brings the chair down hard across her spine.


Troy shows her fighting spirit, again pushing herself off of the canvas. And again, Ward comes crashing down with steel.


Nick: And Troy just keeps fighting her way up! This is incredible!

Clearly losing his cool, Ward brings the chair down again. Then again. And again. Each blow is faster than the one before, till he is swinging as fast as his arms can go. The sound of steel cracking against spine fights with the jeers of nearly a hundred thousand.


Richard: This is a vicious streak we haven’t seen from Ward in ages. And it brings such a smile to my face to see it happening at the expense of Lindsay Troy.

Nick: I think that makes you the only human being on the planet who feels that way.

After nearly a dozen shots to the spine, the Inhuman Being tosses down the chair and rolls Troy onto her back, hooking a leg for a third pinfall attempt. Nixon slides into place and makes the count.




Nick: NO! No! She kicked out!


Nick: Lindsay Troy was just worn out with a steel chair. Ward just broke the damn back off of the chair he hit her so hard, so many times, and she still kicked out!

Richard: There’s no way she’s not dead.

Nick: This is why she’s a legend, one of the greatest superstars to ever set foot in PRIME.

Richard: That’s fine. Tell her to keep getting up, and Ward will just keep knocking her down.

But before he does, The Inhuman Being turns to referee Elvis Nixon and gives him an earful, demanding a faster count next time he makes a cover. Turning his attention back to Troy, the Intense Champion slams a forearm down across the back of the challenger. The impact knocks Troy to her knees, where Ward once again drags her up and delivers a clubbing blow across the back.

Richard: He doesn’t even need a stinkin’ chair to break her spine.

After another forearm smash, Matt grabs Troy by the wrist and whips her into the corner. The Queen of the Ring crashes against the turnbuckles, and heading her way a hundred miles an hour, The Inhuman Being rushes in.


Nick: She got the boot up!

Right in the teeth. PRIME’s Wrecking Ball staggers back from the force of the kick, and springing to life, Troy connects with a bundle or right hooks. Working Ward back to the ropes, she springs him off and catches him with an arm drag, taking the champion over. Matt is right back to his feet, charging at Troy, but she’s waiting, and connects with a snap kick to the chest that sends Ward right back to the canvas. Again the champion is up, charging in to Troy. This time, a roundhouse kick is aimed for ht head, but Ward ducks, and as momentum spins Troy around, she turns right into a mammoth spinebuster that nearly plants her through the ring.

Richard: Comeback… OVER!

The Inhuman Being sits up on his knees and looks down at Troy, shaking his head. Finally, he climbs to his feet. Lifting Troy, he walks her over toward the corner, pulling her by the hair. His eyes lock on the turnbuckles as he plots his next move. But what he doesn’t see coming is an elbow to the sternum that leaves him gasping for air. A second elbow slams home, smashing his intestines and doubling him over.

Nick: Where she’s getting this energy, I have no idea, but Lindsay Troy is fighting back in a big way.

With Ward doubled over, Troy stands him up with a vicious knee strike to the face. A knee to the gut doubles him right back over, and wrapping her arms around his head, PRIME’s Chairwoman executes a crisp, precise swinging neckbreaker in the middle of the ring.

Richard: How is she doing this? She was just beaten mercilessly with a steel chair five minutes ago.

Nick: Never underestimate the heart of a champion. Or the wrath of a women scorned!

Troy slowly climbs to her feet and catches her breath. Over to the corner, she grabs hold of the top rope and springs herself onto the top turnbuckle.

Nick: Looks like she’s setting him up for a moonsault…

But in a fraction of a second, Ward bursts to life and crosses the ring in two quick steps, then leaps up onto the second turnbuckle. Wrapping his arms around Troy’s waist, he throws her across the ring with a super german suplex.


Troy crashes hard on her neck and shoulders, legs flipping up and over as she rolls onto her stomach.

Richard: He just jumped up outta nowhere and sent Troy flying with a german suplex from the top rope.


Nick: Lindsay Troy may have broken her neck!

The Inhuman Being looks across the ring at Troy’s carcass, and for a moment there’s a look of horror on his face, as if he’s mortified at what he’s done to someone so close to him.

But that doesn’t prevent him from scurrying across the ring and making the cover.




Nick: It’s over! It’s o…


Nick: NO! NO! She kicked out!

Richard: Impossible!

PRIME’s Wrecking Ball stares at Elvis Nixon in disbelief, but he’s assured by the veteran official that it was only two. It looks like the words "are you fuckin’ serious" can be seen escaping Ward’s lips as he slowly pushes himself to his feet, wincing as pain jolts through his battered knees.

Nick: What an incredible display of resiliency and fortitude by the Queen of the Ring. She’s taken an ungodly beating the last ten minutes, and I’ll be damned if she hasn’t kicked out and fought back no matter what Tchu has thrown her way.

Looking around the ring, trying to figure out what to do next, the Intense Champion picks up Troy. With a massive heave, Matt whips his one-time friend into the ropes. As the Queen of the Ring bounces back, he attempts a clothesline, but Troy ducks underneath and hits the opposite ropes. When Ward turns, he’s met with a flying wheel kick that knocks him clean off his feet.


Nick: And that might be just what Troy needs!

Both superstars lay on the canvas. Troy’s chest heaves with each exhausted breath she takes. Ward clutches at his head, trying to unscramble his brains.

Richard: Get up, champ!

Ward does just that, rolling onto his side and pulling himself up with the ropes. Troy continues to lay on the canvas, trying to get back some semblance of strength. When the Inhuman Being trudges her way, she swings a leg in his direction, taking him back down with a beautiful sweep.

Nick: If Troy can just get her wind back, just gather herself and dig deep to find some more fuel in the tank, she can get back in this thing

Once again, the Intense Champion is too his feet, and once again, he heads straight for Tory, but the Queen of the Ring catches him off guard. Springing to life, she reaches up and grabs him around the head, rolling him over with a small package.

Nick: Flash pin!




Richard: Not a chance!

Nick: Not a chance, Lindsay Troy was a half-second away from picking up a victory on the grandest stage in the business.

Richard: A half-second is all the difference.

Both superstars are now to their feet and Troy continues the momentum, firing away with an alternating series of punches and kicks, each one finding their mark. Pushed back to the ropes, Troy whips Ward across the ring. On the rebound, Troy attempts a roundhouse kick, but the Inhuman Being ducks under and hits the opposite ropes, grabbing hold and stopping his journey. When the Queen of the Ring turns to face him, she steps forward and is tossed out of the ring with a back body drop.

Richard: Another comeback cut-off at the knees!

Nick: Every time it looks like Lindsay Troy is about to seize control of this match...

Richard: That's why this guy is the best ever. He's not going to let up. When ya get 'em down, ya keep the foot on the throat and you crush them.

Without wasting a moment, PRIME's Wrecking Ball darts across the ring, hitting the ropes to build some speed and as he comes back across the ring, he takes to the air, diving through the middle and top ropes.

Richard: Diving spear!

But Troy is to her feet just in time to see it coming and quickly moves out of the way.

Nick: He missed...


Nick: ...and right into the waiting arms of Dan Ryan!

Indeed, when Troy slips out of the way, the Inhuman Being lands across the broad chest of The Ego Buster who catches the 240lbs missile with ease.

Richard: Put him down! Ryan isn't a part of this match! Just let him go.

And Ryan does. With a powerful heave, Dan Ryan tosses Ward into the air, and at the apex of his uncontrolled flight, the Inhuman Being falls victim to a mid-air collision.

Nick: DROPKICK! Lindsay Troy just drop-kicked Matt Ward clean outta the skies!

Ward's body ricochetts off the feet of Troy and crashes to the mat with a sickening thud.

Richard: What the hell was that?!

Nick: Target practice. And this crowd has errupted!

Troy is to her feet first, sliding back into the ring to wait for one-time friend and partner.Slowly, Matt pulls himself up along the barricade. Turning toward the ring, he sees the Queen of the Ring waiting, motioning him to jump back into the squared circle. With a dismissive shake of the head, the Inhuman Being takes a step back towards the entrance set.

Nick: What is he doing?

Richard: Nobody tells PRIME's Wrecking Ball what to do. He's earned that right as a Hall of Famer.

Nick: And so is Lindsay Troy.

As he starts to back up, Ward suddenly turns and steps forward, slamming a huge right fist into the chin of Dan Ryan.


Troy has seen enough. Grabbing the battered and broken steel chair in the middle of the ring, she does her best to open up the seat, then hits the ropes. As she approaches the chair, she steps onto it's surface, springing herself onto the top rope. Then, with a powerful shove, she pushes off the rope, flying through the air and flipping.

Nick: OH MY GOD!

The crowd explodes as Troy's feet slam into the champion's face and chest, knocking him to the ground.

Nick: A sprinboard flying senton! Lindsay Troy just flew twenty feet through the air and took out the Inhuman Being. Qualcomm Stadium is going absolutely nuts! The Airport isn't the only place in San Diego taking incoming flights!

The former two-time tag and Universal Champion grabs the Inhuman Being by the arm and drags him over to the apron, sliding him back in the ring. Following right behind, she makes the cover, hooking both legs, as Elvis Nixon starts the 3 count.




Richard: Kickout!

The Inhuman Being rips his shoulder off the canvas at two-and-a-half.

Richard: All these idiots in the stadium jumped the gun. They can scream "three" all they want, Matt Ward is still alive and kickin'.

Nick: It may not have been enough to crown us a new Intense Champion, but Lindsay Troy has officially taken control of this match.

And with that control, Troy goes to work. A Russian Legsweep is followed by a standing moonsault that caves in the chest of PRIME's Wrecking Ball. Picking Ward up by a fistful of hair, The Queen of the Ring executes a snap suplex then rolls straight into a second.

Nick: Going for the trifecta...

Perhaps influenced by exhaustion or the strain of lifting nearly 250lbs up and over for a third consecutive time, Troy cuts the final suplex off short, dropping straight down, spiking Ward on the top of his head.

Nick: ...into a brainbuster!

Richard: I don't know if she dropped him or...

Nick: She knew exactly what she was doing. Two rolling snap suplexed with a devastating finish. And here's the cover.




Nick: We've got a new champi.... NOOOO!


Richard: Kicked out again!

PRIME's Chairwoman drags the Inhuman Being over to the corner and steps out through the ropes, climbing to the top turnbuckle. Perched high above her opponent, the flash from thousands of cameras go off, capturing the moment for eternity as Lindsay Troy leaps high in the air, flipping backward and finishing a SSP with a pumping frog splash.

Nick: Incredible!

Troy keeps her postion for another pin.




Nick: No! Not quite enough.

Now it is Troy's turn to fire an angry look in the direction of Elvis Nixon, frustrated that top rope splashes, mid-air collisions and being dropped on the head haven't been enough to put the match away. She doesn't waste time arguing, however, instead dragging Ward to his feet and attempting an irish whip. The Inhuman Being reverses the momentum, though, slamming on the brakes and pulling Troy toward him. In a split second, he wraps his arm around her neck and slides behind the challenger, locking in a sleeperhold and immediately driving the back of her skull into the canvas.


Richard: Out of nowhere.

Ward slips around and makes the cover, hooking Troy's leg.


He shifts his body, applying more weight to Troy's upperbody, ready to retain his Intense Title yet again, and win the bitter war with a once close friend.


He hears Nixon's hand slap the mat for the third time.



But the roar of the crowd lets him know that third count was all in his head.

Nick: She kicked out! Lindsay Troy has kicked out of the Downfall!

Richard: No one does that!

Nick: She just did!

Ward looks up in shock. Complete disbelief. Nixon holds up two fingers and shrugs his shoulders, seemingly incapable of believing it himself.

Nick: Qualcomm Stadium is losing its mind! This place has come unglued!

The Inhum Being is too his feet and he grabs Nixon by the collar, spitting and cursing, demanding to know how that wasn't a three count. Nixon yells back in defense of his perfectly acceptable count. And then the former two-time Universal Champion and reigning Intense Champion loses his cool.

Nick: WHAT THE...?!

Richard: Ward just clocked the official!

Nick: For what?!

Richard: Next time, he'll count faster.



Nick: What a disgusting display.

Richard: Elvis has left the building!

Nixon, having crumpled in a heap on the mat, is rolled out of the way unceramoniously by a boot to the ribs, courtesy of the Inhuman Being. Then its straight back to work on Troy. A knee to the gut doubles the challenger over and Ward wraps his hands around her waist. Executing a gutwrench powerbomb, he drives Troy down in violent form, then keeps the hold locked, lifting her up for an apparent second powerbomb. But Troy, like earlier, reverses the move into a hurricanranna, and this time, the Inhuman Being is unable to turn the move to his advantage.

He's sent head over heels, bouncing off the canvas as Troy grabs one of his legs, holdin the hurricanranna in a pin.

Nick: But there's no ref!

Dan Ryan fixes that, reaching under the bottom rope, he gives Nixon a shove, bring the official back to the land of the conscious. Nixon looks over and sees the pin, and wasting no time to crawl any closer, he begins to make the three count.





Nick: So close!

Richard: Would Dan Ryan butt outta this match?! Go back to the locker room you shaven gorilla!

Nick: God forbid he try to help revive the referee that Ward KO'ed for no reason!

The two Hall of Fame warriors roll to their feet at about the same time and take a giant step toward one another. With the gap closed, they start swinging. Troy landing a right. Then Ward. Each draws an emotional response from the crowd as they slug it out, exchanging blows.







The Inhuman Being gains the upperhand, landing several punches in a row, then grabs Troy by the arm and whips her into corner. Troy looks to hit chest first, but gets her hands up in time, grabbing the top rope on either side of the turnbuckle. When Ward charges in right behind, she kicks her legs into the air, locking a scissor hold around Ward's neck.

Nick: She caught 'im!

But as she pushes off the ropes, looking to connect with another head scissor toss, Ward reaches up and plants his hands on her back, just above her butt, and drops to the canvas, practically driving Troy through the mat with a face-down sit-out powerbomb.

Richard: What a reversal!

Ward rolls Troy over and hooks the leg for the cover and barks at Nixon to make the count.



Richard: It's over!


Nick: NO! NO!


Richard: How?! She was just powerbombed on her face!

Nick: Just unbelievable the fighting spirit of Lindsay Troy. She's been worn out by steel chair, powerbombed face-first, hit with the downfall... and still, she won't stay down!

Now Ward is livid, refusing to believe nothing has put Troy away. He grabs the Queen of the Ring by her hair and yanks her to her feet, but as soon as he does, Troy bursts to life, shoving his arms away and landing a stiff elbow to the chin. A snap kick to the ribs follows, then another to the opposite side. Troy hits the ropes, building up a full head of steam, but the Intense Champion doesn't wait for her to close the distance. With a powerful step forward, he kicks his legs forward and clotheslines Troy, keeping her head locked as both collapse to the canvas.

Nick: That was...

Richard: Supreme Justice!


Nick: The signature move of...

Ward finishes the sentence by climbing to his feet and point to an individual seated at ringside. The camera follows his finger to lock on to the image of Killean Sirrajin, the PRIME Hall of Famer.

Nick: What the hell is he doing?!

Richard: Paying tribute?

Nick: By using Sirrajin's move on his own friend? This is disgusting. Killean is caught in the middle of all this, friend to both Troy and Ward, and the Inhuman Being is taunting, playing games with that fact. Just dragging Killean further into the middle of this

The crowd continues to rain down jeers as the Intense Champion leans down and peels Troy from that canvas. Draping her across his right shoulder, Matt marches to the corner and sits LT on the top turnbuckle.

Nick: What does he have in mind here?

Richard: I dunno, but I'm lookin forward to it!

Ward heads over to the same steel chair that has tasted plenty of flesh already in this match. Folding up its bent surface, he turns and looks at Troy, perched across the top rope. With chair firmly in his grip, Matt trudges back to the corner, winds up, and takes a massive swing.


But Troy sees it coming a mile away.

Nick: She caught the chair!

As Troy moves the steel weapon to the side, the shocked and horrified look on Ward's face comes into plain view.

Nick: The Inhuman Being looks like he's seen a ghost

Richard: How did she catch the force of that chair?!

Troy, hands stinging, but face still intact, catches the stunned champion with a kick straight to the left temple.


The sound of boot on skull is every bit as unsettling as steel, and PRIME's Wrecking Ball staggers back as step before collapsing to the canvas.

Nick: What a shot! In the spirt of football season, a huge kick! Lindsay Troy just did her best Nate Kaeding impression.

Richard: Except she doesn't miss when it counts the most. And that's trouble for our champ.

Slowly, Troy stands up, keeping her balance on the second turnbuckle. With cautious steps, the Queen of the Ring moves herself up a level, standing on the top turnbuckles.

Richard: Now what the hell is she going to do?

Holding the steel chair firmly in front of her, Lindsay Troy takes a deep breath, then uses every last bit of energy in her body to leap high into the air. From Ward's vantage point on the canvas, if he doesn't lose here in the lights of Qualcomm, Troy must look a hundred feet in the air. And closing fast.

As she nears the champion, Troy releases the steel chair beneath her. The chair lands across Ward's body just a split second before all 170lbs of Troy's weight coming planting down on two feet.


Nick: GOOD LORD! The Inhuman Being may be dead!

Richard: Top rope double-stomp... just crushed that chair into the champ's chest!

Nick: Troy must have been fifteen feet in the air, and she just came down at maximum velocity!


PRIME's Chairwoman gathers her bearings and pushes the busted steel weapon off of Ward, then drapes her weight across the champion, lifting a leg off the ground by grabbing the kneepad.

Nick: Nixon makes the count.



Troy inhales, holding her breath till she hears the sound of three.



Nick: He…

Richard: He kicked out! HE KICKED OUT!

Nick: I don’t believe it!

Neither does the crowd. Neither does Troy, who finally exhales as she closes her eyes before finally opening them and looking up at the San Diego night sky.

Nick: There is no way…

Richard: Yes there is. This is how you come earn the moniker "inhuman being". This is how you come to be a two-time Universal Champion, an Intense Champion, a Jewel in the Crown, Dual Halo winner

Nick: But he’s in there with a two-time Universal Champion and a Hall of Famer in her own right. It might be rare, it might be the first time in his PRIME career, but Ward is in there with someone every bit as accomplished as he is. Lindsay Troy has wrestled under the Colossus spotlight. And she’s gotten it done. She’ll dig deep and find a way.

Troy, with slow, pained movements, pushes herself off the canvas, then reaches down to pull the champion with her, but her strength abandons her and Ward’s weight is too much too lift from the canvas.

Nick: These two are broken. Exhausted. And now The Inhuman Being has a large gash across his chest from where that jagged chair cut across. He’s bleeding quite a bit.

The Queen of the Ring is forced to wait for Ward to climb to his feet under his own power. She takes the opportunity to catch a much needed breather, her body heaving with each labored breath. As soon as the champion is to his feet, she greets him with a hard right.


Then another.


Switching it up, she fires off a mid-range kick.

But the Inhuman Being catches her foot.

Richard: Trouble for Tr…



Nick: Enziguri! She just leveled the champ with that kick to the back of the head.

Immediately, Troy drops and makes the cover.




Nick: YES! YE…

Richard: NO! She didn’t get him! He kicked out!

Nick: These two just wont quit. It’s like they’ll die before they’ll ever surrender to other.

Again Troy is to her feet first, and again, she waits several seconds for Ward to climb off the mats. As he begins to stand, LT runs toward the ropes. Jumping onto the middle cable, she springs backward into a perfect Asai moonsault.

Only the finish is anything but perfect.

Nick; He caught her…

Landing right across Ward’s upper body, he catches his one-time friend, locks his arms around her waist and jumps in a seated position, spiking her skull into the canvas.

Richard: Sit-out Tombstone piledriver. Troy’s spine just shattered!

As the Queen sticks and falls in disgusting fashion, Ward lays his body across hers, no strength to hook a leg. Nixon slides into position and begins the count.






Cringing from pain in places he can’t name, and with blood mixing with sweat and running down his chest, The Inhuman Being turns and looks down at Troy.

"Just fucking quit!"

Nick: Frustration and fatigue setting in. I’m not sure if that was a demand or a plea. If he’s furious because he can’t put Troy away, or if he’s conflicted about the damage they’re dishing out to each other.

Gritting his teeth, Ward stands up and drags the Queen to her feet and dips a shoulder, hoisting her up in a fireman’s carry.

Richard: Inhuman Treatment! This is what did it for him earlier.

Ward plants a hand under Troy’s legs and pushes up and off, spinning her around, but the impact he’s hoping for never comes. In mid-flight, Troy contorts her weight and brings the champion down with an arm and head locked away. A quick repositioning of her limbs and the Inhuman Being finds himself in the middle of a nightmare.


Richard: Where did that come from?!

Nick: Out of nowhere… she just reversed the Inhuman Treatment into that Koji Clutch. In the middle of the ring! The Champ has nowhere to go.

His face is equal parts agony and exhaustion, and as he realizes his predicament, with no way to break the hold, fear begins to settle in his eyes.

Nick: The crowd is roaring. It’s deafening in here! They know Troy is so close. She can taste it! They can taste it!

Richard: Get outta this, Champ!

Nick: there’s nowhere for him to go. Even if he could make the ropes, she doesn’t have to break the hold.

Ward fights, closing his eyes and trying to twist or lift his body, but he’s drained of any and all energy and the clutch is locked in deep. Nothing he does eases the pain. Nothing he does releases any pressure.

Troy strains, using the very last of her reserves, emptying her tank by pouring everything into the hold.

Richard: It’s not gonna work. He’ll never tap.

Nick: He doesn’t have a choice.

Again Ward tries to push himself up, squirm free, but his movement is short lived. Lying in a still-forming puddle of his own blood, he looks out into the crowd of Qualcomm stadium, blurring as his conscious slips, fractured by the ropes he’ll never reach.

And he taps.





Nick: It’s over! IT"S OVER! HE TAPPED!


Richard: Noooo!

The entirety of Qualcomm explodes at once, cheers so loud that residents of San Diego will probably think there was an earthquake.

Nick: She’s done it! Ward tapped!

"Trampled Underfoot" begins to play

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen… your winner of the match… and NNNNEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW Intense Champiiiooooonnnnn… Liiinnnnddsssaaaayyyyy Trrrrroooooooyyyyyyyy!

Troy releases the hold as the sound of Howard’s voice trails off. She doesn’t have the energy to stand, instead just laying their next to her old-friend.

Richard: I don’t believe this.

Nick: I think… I think that may be the first time in Ward’s entire career spanning nearly ten years that he has ever tapped out. For the first time in his life… in a storied decade… he tapped. At the hands of one of his closest friends. At the hands of his now bitter enemy.

Dan Ryan grabs the Intense Title from Howard and jumps into the ring. Reaching down, he helps Troy off the mat, handing her the new crown she’s just earned.

Nick: What an absolutely epic encounter. I was beginning to think we’d never crown a winner. That neither would ever quit or stay down.

As the two in-laws climb to their feet and share a hug, the Inhuman Being slowly crawls to his feet. The music dies down.

Nick: Wait a minute…

The Inhuman Being takes a staggered step across the ring toward Troy and Ryan. Immediately, the Ego Buster pushes Troy behind him, acting as a barricade. But Ward steps around Ryan without incident and heads for the ropes. As he begins to step through the cables, he stops and looks back at Troy. And he says a few short words that are nearly impossible to hear over the buzz of the crowd.

Nick: What did he just say to her?

Richard: Sounded something like "I get it" or… I dunno. I couldn’t hear a damn thing.

Ward hops through the ropes and looks down at his chest, wiping the blood away. As he makes his way up the ramp, he turns and fires an ugly look back in the direction of the ring, then disappears behind the curtain.

Nick: I have no idea what that was, or where things go between these two, but on this night, on this… the grandest stage in the business… Lindsay Troy has reigned supreme!

"Trampled Underfoot" begins to play again as Troy, with help from the Ego Buster, raises an exhausted arm in victory.

The Intense Title hangs from her bloodied fingers. A token of her talents. A reminder of her skills. Another award. One more accomplishment. One more victory. One less friend.

Making the choice

(FADEIN: The back, we see Muse walk into a room with a trash barrel that’s full of various weapons. The First, who is sitting on a bench, looks up at her.)

FIRST: What is this?

MUSE: We’re only a few moments away from Castor’s glorious victory, and well, I figured you should be ready should you be required to aid him in capturing the PRIME Universal Title…Castor wanted you to have a weapon that was…What was the word…Oh yes…Elegant…So well I rounded up a bunch of things for you…A hockey stick (Grabs the stick out of the trash can and waves it around …A police baton…(twirls the baton around a bit.) a tazer (Pulls the tazer out and sparks it.) a crow bar…Well I dunno exactly what I’m supposed to do to demonstrate a crow bar…Like, pry a door or something maybe…

FIRST: So…You really think after all this time, that I’m going to help Castor win the Universal Title, you haven’t heard anything I’ve said since the moment I’ve joined PRIME about not wanting to be in Castor’s shadow, not wanting to help him do anything…Did you think I spent all this time lying?

MUSE: Baby, I don’t have time to sit around and ponder what mood you’re in now and then…I’ve been working with Castor for his entrance…I’m getting a lighting effects credit at the end of the show! It’s been a hectic time for everyone and I know you’re stressed out, but this is the right thing for all involved…And you know that…

FIRST: So I’m supposed to sell out and slug Olsig in the head with a weapon just to make you happy and give Castor, a complete piece of garbage, the Universal title…

MUSE: Castor’s not a piece of garbage, and about all the rest of it, yes that sounds about right…

FIRST: What if I…Oh I dunno…Lay Castor out and cost him his precious little belt…What if I ruined everything he’s been going after…

(Muse’s lower lip quivers.)

MUSE: You…You wouldn’t dare…After all he’s done for you! How can you be such an ingrate?

(First grabs the crowbar, he pats it into the palm of his hand.)

FIRST: Oh I don’t know, to wake you two up to the fact I’m not Castor’s lapdog maybe…Maybe it’ll take this to finally get through to you…

MUSE: I’m not hearing this…You’ll do the right thing when the time comes…I trust you First…You’re just a little upset now…But you’ll see things clearly soon enough…

(Muse walks out of the room, leaving First with the pile of weapons.)

FIRST: I think I see everything perfectly right now…

Vangelus Olsig © Vs Castor V. Strife

Nick: And here we are, a place only eleven people have ever experienced in their lifetime, Richard, a Colossus Main Event.

Richard: Two more are going to be welcomed into the club.

Nick: One who is long overdue, at least in his own eyes, and another upstart looking to use tonight as a stamp into immortality.

Richard: Olsig's chances aren't favorable though, odds wise. Nick, hit em up with some stats.

Nick: Colossus I saw Tony Rolo defeat Ignatius Lisieux to become the Global Champion. Colossus II saw Hoyt Williams defeat Killean Sirrajin. Colossus III saw Tchu defeat Killean Sirrajin. Colossus V saw Chandler Tsonda defeat Devin Shakur. Only two times, Colossus IV when Lindsay Troy retained against Sonny Silver, and Colossus VI when Jason Snow retained against Kaiser Vashaun has a Champion walked out with the belt.

Richard: And I could argue Snow was in the midst of becoming PRIME's greatest Universal Champion ever during that run. If it had been anybody else, we could wipe one off the slate.

Nick: Olsig has clamored for this spot ever since his failed attempts at Universal gold in the past. He's begged for a chance and received it after defeating Strife at UltraViolence.

Richard: Now, he's got to do it again. On the biggest stage of all. In Castor V Strife's state. Granted, it's not Hollywood, but we're a hell of a lot closer to Hollywood than Bogota.

Nick: Strife emerged from a New Era bracket of the Born Again tournament and has since stayed on top by defeating Lindsay Troy and Tyler Rayne, both of whom came out victorious this evening.

Richard: In two moments of crock.

Nick: But Strife proved without a doubt he's capable of handling big stars in a big time environment. There isn't a bigger environment than the one he's about to step into.

Richard: Damn straight.

Nick: The one thing each man has a level playing field on is Colossus experience. Neither man has stepped into the ring at a Colossus event before in their career. Both are about to -

Richard: Pop their Colossus cherries.

Nick: So glad we could get through one introduction without a sexually charged joke.

Richard: Not as long as I'm around, bub.

Nick: Let's take a look at what led to this seventh Main Event in Colossus history.

Culture Shock 2010: Dual Halo


"Faint" by Linkin Park


Richard: What the hell is this emo prick doing out here?

Three leaps at the top of the ramp, and then it's all full throttle as Vangelus charges to the ring, driven by the cheers, empowered by the adrenaline. Eight long months since he's last done this…

Olsig with a knee to the groin.

Youngblood doubles over.

Olsig grabs the singlet, pulls and jumps.


Olsig covers.




Eliminated: Brandon Youngblood


Richard: Jesus Fucking Christ.

Nick: Brandon Youngblood has been spiked by The Prince of Delusion!

Richard: I never thought I'd see the day. The dumb bastard has finally grown up.

Nick: He's grown up alright. Vangelus Olsig is now the owner of The Golden Ticket.

ReVolution 224

After a long fought battle, Castor V. Strife sees an opportunity to stamp his ticket to UltraViolence and a chance at the Universal Championship. He lands a Director's Cut on Hush and covers The Silent Assassin.




Richard: Castor V. Strife punches his ticket to UltraViolence!

Nick: He will vie in a triple threat match for the Universal Championship against Emilio Rage and Vangelus Olsig.

Richard: The era of Strife is soon to happen.

UltraViolence 2010

He takes hold of Olsig's head and goes for the snap swinging neckbreaker.

The movements are all accurate.

But Olsig swings around and manages to land a boot to the midsection.

He picks Strife up over his shoulders in the Outsider's Edge position, holding him there for a brief second.

This one is for all the people who said he couldn't do it.


The crowd roars with approval while Olsig makes the immediate pinfall.







ReVolution 226

Castor V. Strife is able to secure Tyler Rayne in a German suplex, but both men's shoulders are down for the count.


Both men's shoulders are still down.

Nick: Who is going to get up first?





Strife shot an arm up, his muscles screaming in pain.


Rayne nudged his arms up but it was too late.

Winner: Castor V. Strife

But he manages to secure the victory and a place at the Colossus VII Main Event.

Nick: Wow, Strife managing to come up clutch at quite possibly the biggest moment in his career.

Richard: The great ones always do.

Nick: We've got one half of the Colossus Main Event locked, the 227 card fully revealed and next week, we will have the Colossus Main Event on lock.

ReVolution 227 – Chainz vs Vangelus Olsig

Nick: Brass knuckles! Olsig pulled brass knuckles out of his boot!

The blood coming out of his head combined with the pain in his back force Sloan to drop Olsig down onto the canvas. Olsig seizes the opportunity and boots Chainz in the midsection, lifting him up in an Outsider's Edge. Olsig runs across the ring and collapses, throwing Chainz forward in the sit down powerbomb position.







ReVolution 229 – The Showdown

Olsig: To be honest with you, I don't know what I'll do - but I do know that I'll do anything it takes to win. My strategy will be the same as it's always been: By any means necessary.

Strife: I came into this company with a distinct advantage. Mine is the face of main events the world over, and there isn’t a more devastating move in professional wrestling than the Director’s Cut.

Olsig: You still need to pin my shoulders, the one thing you haven’t accomplished so far.

Strife: Olsig, you represent the old guard of PRIME. You’ve spent your ENTIRE CAREER trying to win that belt, and finally it happened for you. Congratulations. (golf slaps) Me? The thought of that title hadn’t entered my mind until a few months ago. And in the time it took you to graduate from dark matches, I will have conquered the mountain. You, Lindsay, Tyler, Boda, Chainz, you’ll all be written out of the script. After Colossus, PRIME becomes…a Castor Von Strife Production!

Olsig: Hubris. That’s all you are, Castor. I don’t fear your threats, and your hype machine doesn’t impress me. You're a small dog with a big bark. The tragedy of this life is the pride before the fall. I want you feeling strong at Colossus, so that when you do fall, the landing will echo through the corridors of this company as a warning signal for all these fiends who think they can take what is mine. For all your big talk, if you don’t beat me you might as well leave. And that’s the harsh reality of expectations- fail to meet them, and there’s hell to pay.

Only one man can walk out with the Universal Championship...

A split screen of Olsig landing a Sacrifice on Strife to capture the Universal Championship at UltraViolence 2010 combined with Olsig getting struck by Strife at 229 with the Universal strap. Strife kisses the belt. Both men hold up the belt at the exact same time.

Only one

Nick: And folks, the time is now. Will Vangelus Olsig be able to retain for a second time during his reign or will he be cut short by Strife's tidal wave of momentum?

Richard: Only one way to find out. Howard, bring us home, dude.

Vince Howard: The following contest, scheduled for one fall, is a No Disqualification match, for the UNIVERSAL CHAMPIONSHIP!


Nick: God, you could hear that all the way in Hollywood.

A snapshot of those on the beach watching via giant screens shows the same reaction. They are psyched for what should be an epic confrontation.

The camera cuts to CASTOR V. STRIFE standing on an underground platform, bright lights shining all around him.  His blonde hair is loose, untied, and he’s wearing circular red lens translucent glasses.  He also dons his usual white tights with black candy stripes going up and down the legs.

The platform begins to rise up through an opening in the entrance way, and music can now be heard in the not too far off distance.  The music becomes louder, and louder, and on either side of entrance ramp are female dancers in blue uniforms and white top hats.  Other dancers appear- some are male, dressed like Uncle Sam, while others are women dressed in gold like Vegas dancers.  The horns of the music are now heard throughout the arena, and lights shine on a stage just off to the side.

A performer is seen from the back, in a blue and gold suit.  He turns around: it’s JAMES BROWN with a microphone, and he’s here to perform a special song.  And it begins…




Castor starts to make his way to the ring, as people wave mini American flags around.






A platform drops from the ceiling- on it is APOLLO CREED dressed in an Uncle Sam boxer’s getup.  He’s dancing around, pointing his gloves at Castor.

JAMES BROWN: "Eye to eye…station to station"


JAMES BROWN: "Hand to hand…across the nation"


Apollo’s dancing around the stage with James Brown, pointing his gloves at everyone.

JAMES BROWN: "Got to have a celebration!"



NICK: I thought James Brown was dead?

RICHARD: Apparently he’s alive and well tonight!

Castor climbs through the ropes, and the horns end the song.


The crowd cheers the deceased James Brown, but as the big screen image shifts to Castor Strife, the boos come hard.

Nick: And, after such a disgusting tribute, here comes our, hopefully more gracious, champion.

Vince Howard: Introducing next... THE CHAMPION!

'Faint' by Linkin Park screams through speakers and brings 70,000 plus to their feet for an arrival they are hoping will be remembered as one of the more epic in Colossus history.

No helicopter descends from overhead and no dance ensemble emerges from backstage, heck we don't even get an Oompa group doing a theme song, or a man being shot from a cannon. Instead, pyrotechnics explode around Qualcomm's surface in a sweeping motion from right to left. On the main stage, three walls of pyrotechnics explode high, sending smoke and an obscure firework into the audience. No doubt a lawsuit will surface.

From underneath the main stage, a continuous wall of rainbow colored pyrotechnics introduce the arrival of Vangelus Olsig, or as he would like to be addressed Sir Vangelus Olsig. Accompanied by Chives the Agent at his right side, Olsig steps out in a robe more expensive than an annual paycheck for most members of this audience. He's dressed to the nines, makeup as immaculate as ever, and Universal Championship flawlessly wrapped around his waist.

Nick: Olsig not coming out in overzealous fashion, but a dramatic fashion nonetheless.

Richard: He could have gone and hired whatever he wanted for this entrance, but he chose to keep it classy.

Olsig lifts his arms out so all in attendance can bask in a diamond encrusted robe with his name stitched in 24 karat gold on the back. The Prince of Delusion slowly walks down the aisle, ignoring fans who have an outstretched arm. This is his moment and none of these peons are going to interrupt or get a second of undeserved spotlight.

Strife doesn't look impressed while Olsig continues sauntering toward him. Pyrotechnics stationed in the aisleway erupt when Olsig hits a certain point, sending those same fans looking for dap scurrying for cover.

Richard: Those punks deserve it.

Olsig gets to ringside and walks over toward the steel stairs, keeping arms outstretched to gloat. A few steps up and one move between the ropes and Olsig is in the squared circle. He spins around one more time before ordering Chives inside to remove his robe. Chives obliges while Olsig unstraps his Universal Championship and cradles it to his chest while Vince Howard steps between the ring ropes and gets ready for introductions.

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen, introducing the participants in this Main Event match. First, the challenger... He weighs in tonight at 245 pounds, standing 6'3 tall, he hails from Hollywood, California-


Nick: Good amount of support from people in Hollywood.

Richard: They probably rode over here on an orgy bus.



Nick: Even though he's not well liked amongst many, in this neck of the woods he's going to get a lot of love.



Nick: I have a feeling once the match starts neither man is going to be well received.

Richard: Success is often met with jealousy from those who fail to achieve it.

Nick: Most matches at Colossus have a good guy and bad guy, but not here. We've got two guys generally disliked, but who have worked their way into this position.


Richard: Now we'll see who can walk out the big bread winner.

Referee Bernie Roberts displays PRIME's richest prize for both competitors. Each man looks at it with glimmer in their eyes. Olsig wants to retain and give another giant "Fuck You" to everybody who says he shouldn't be where he is right now. Strife wants to do so, not only so he can do the same, but start a legacy of his own.

Once a stagehand's palms grab hold of the Universal Title, both competitors slowly move from their respective corners. Olsig eyeballs Strife carefully while The God of Snuff exudes confidence while shifting his feet around. Olsig turns oppositely, leaving both competitors circling one another. Anticipation is going to reach a fever pitch once any first shot lands.

Nick: There is really nothing like a Colossus main event. You can feel this electricity surging through every bone in your body.

Olsig rings out his arms and prepares for battle. Strife switches weight from his front foot to his back. A momentary pause from both competitors before they lockup. Both dig their feet into the canvas and look for openings. Olsig tries getting underneath and pushing Strife, while Strife keeps himself balanced and looks for a chance to overpower Olsig. Olsig pushes forward harder, but Strife doesn't relent, not wanting to give up an early edge and give an already confident champion even more to hang his hat on. Strife digs his hands into Olsig's shoulders and almost pulls him down, perhaps believing a shift in move would better him. Olsig keeps his knees strong.

Nick: Neither man budging here, but neither wants to give an inch.

Strife and Olsig exert one last strain on each other before releasing and standing inches from one another.

Nick: No one able to overpower the other here. It speak to talent level as much as anything else.

Richard: Just wait, Strife is going to gain an edge over -

Strife winds his right arm back and slaps Olsig across his cheek.


Nick: That'll break any stare down in its tracks.

Olsig tilts his head toward Strife and gets an ired look in his eyes. He doesn't appreciate being slapped and decides to return fire with one of his own, a much harder strike.


Richard: Oh man, you can feel Strife about ready to boil over and beat this emo fucker in two.

Strife gives a bemused look as if to say "Do you know who you just slapped?"


Olsig must know because he does it a second time. Strife's face becomes red with anger and he can no longer sustain his temper. A right hand finds Olsig's jaw and a fight has finally broken out.

Nick: Here comes the slugfest.

Strife follows up with another right hand. Olsig peppers the challenger's jaw with a few strikes of his own before landing a boot into Strife's midsection. Olsig gets off a forearm shot before backing Strife up and whipping him far side. Strife rebounds and jumps over Olsig, who rises quickly and leaps over Strife on his second rebound. Strife comes off a third time with more momentum, and enough for Olsig to knock him backwards with an enziguri. A far cry from a dropkick, which Strife anticipated. Olsig seeks a cover, but Strife rolls away and into a corner.

Nick: First points go to Olsig.

Richard: Strife is simply trying to make Olsig feel good about himself before he smashes his face in.

Strife spins to his feet and cracks his neck from side to side while walking around in a circular motion. Olsig follows and goes for another lockup. Strife appears willing, but drops and flips Olsig onto his stomach with a takedown. Olsig tries to slither out, but Strife spins around behind and applies a front face lock.

Nick: Strife going for one of the most classic mat strategies in wrestling. A front face lock.

Richard: Maybe some of that emo will get off Olsig if he keeps hold of this long enough.

Nick: Strife can go at any pace he desires, but he has to know from their last match that Olsig is a much quicker and someone with a more aerial offense. If Strife can neutralize Olsig's ability to get airborne, it will go a long way in serving his chance to become Universal Champion.

Keeping Olsig grounded, Strife digs his arm around and gets a firm grip with his other bicep. He's not looking for a choke, but security more than anything else. Olsig stomps his feet against canvas and tries to turn out, but Strife stays with him and keeps his feet away from any ring ropes. Bernie Roberts is down next to Olsig, prepared to call any submission or pin attempt he sees.

Nick: While I doubt Strife plans to beat Olsig with this, he wants to annoy him more than anything else. Olsig has never been on this stage so much on the line before.

Olsig goes for another turn, this time to his right, but Strife moves his feet perfectly to keep Olsig in center ring. Those waiting for a flurry of offense are still biting their nails, but wrestling purists know what Strife is looking to do. The God of Snuff puts his head against Olsig's right shoulder and pushes down, applying a bit more pressure. Olsig tries again to escape, but Strife has a perfectly placed hold.

Richard: Olsig growing angrier and angrier by the second.

Nick: Indeed he is. He wants to get out, run, jump, and make Strife keep a pace that would jeopardize his chances. Great opening strategy by Strife.

Olsig pulls himself backwards and gains a bit of traction, pushing up to his knees. He still has to carry Strife's weight, but is now able to have some freedom with his legs. Strife refuses to let go, keeping his arm around Olsig's neck until The Prince of Delusion gets Strife into a corner. Roberts walks over and taps Strife on his shoulder, demanding a break. He gets a clean one.

Nick: A wave of applauses here from – OLSIG GOES FOR A RIGHT -

But Strife gets away and delivers a knee to Olsig's left kidney. Olsig slumps forward while Strife plants a few more knees and keeps Olsig forced against turnbuckle. A spin around brings them face to face. Strife winds up his right hand and lands a chop.


Nick: One has to wonder if Strife got a few tips on his striking game from his newfound pal, Shakur.

Richard: Certainly can't hurt him.


Olsig shoves Strife out and clutches at his chest. Strife lands a basement dropkick on Olsig, planting him face first into canvas. Strife dives back on top and gets on Olsig's back, slithering his arm through for a rear chin lock.

Nick: A brilliant move by Strife. He got Olsig out of the corner and then went back to what appears to be his strategy. Strife also has a weight advantage over Olsig, so he could be looking to sap strength while holding Olsig down.

Richard: Damn straight he is. Strife knows exactly how to play the game. He's beaten Troy, and he's beaten Rayne. Both came out winners tonight, and Strife is already better than them. He hasn't even been in PRIME a year and he's already on a fast track to greatness.

Nick: His stock will explode if he is able to take out another PRIME Hall of Famer and win our top prize.

Olsig's legs stretch for a bottom rope, but neither can reach, and he is forced to endure another hold. Strife lays out over Olsig, isolating his legs as well to prevent movement. He has almost turned this into a sleeper.

Richard: All those spot monkey loving freaks out there better get out their recliners but we're going a long way before anything develops if Strife keeps control.

Olsig tries to wedge his fingers in between his neck and Strife's arm, but is getting nothing in return. He's stuck like this until Strife wants to let go. Olsig next looks to rock his body back and forth, but Strife stomps on his hamstrings and grinds his head into Olsig's right shoulder again.

Nick: Olsig can't perform any offense stuck on his stomach, but Strife can transition to almost any submission attempt. Does he want to get Olsig in a frame of mind to where he's tired enough and can't perform his regular offense with the same energy?

Richard: He wants to show Olsig who is boss, period. And he's doing that.

Strife stomps on Olsig's hamstrings a few more times, eliciting moans of pain from the champion. He grins and continues stomping while wrenching his chin lock even tighter.

Nick: Strictly annoying here, but Strife might have found a weak spot. He's got full advantage to ruin Olsig's aerial assault in this position.

Stomp after stomp leaves Olsig realizing he'll have to get out of this at some point or risk having to fight Strife, a realm he's not well-versed in. He doesn't have access to weapons yet, and he might not be able to retrieve any if Strife keeps up. Strife is careful not to expend too much energy in his stomps, but keeps Olsig in a static state.

Nick: Rarely in wrestling do we see such an old school approach for a big time match. Strife has obviously prepared for this on a lot of levels and we are seeing how a game plan can be executed.

Olsig grunts and mumbles, ignoring Bernie Roberts whenever he asks if the match should be stopped. It would be more humiliating than every loss in his career to give up to a chin lock. Strife continues to stomp on Olsig's hamstrings. Olsig turns his head and watches Strife's legs, waiting for an opportune moment. When Strife's feet aren't on his legs, Olsig rolls over and puts Strife on his back for a cover.



Strife lets go of his hold and gets up to a vertical base, clubbing Olsig across his back. Olsig limps forward, into a Strife DDT. Strife doesn't go for a cover, but applies yet another front face lock.

Nick: Olsig might have come out looking for a high octane match. Strife was able to hang with him respectably last time they fought, but he wiped that slate clean from the opening bell. Olsig needs to switch plans quick.

Richard: He's getting embarrassed. Strife is showing him just now amateur Olsig's game is. This is the big time, pirate boy.

Olsig has an advantage of being much closer to a safety rope, but Strife doesn't want him to see his position. He's pushing Olsig's face down into the canvas while trying to grapevine his right leg. Strife is able to do so successfully, but Olsig reaches out with his left arm and grabs the rope. Roberts has to break them up again. Strife gets up and drags Olsig to center ring.

Nick: More turtle speed maneuvers coming up-

Olsig delivers a flurry of kicks to Strife's upper body, stalling The God of Snuff, and giving Olsig enough time to regain his bearings. Strife tries to get away or grab a leg, but Olsig's legs are too quick and too precise. Olsig gains enough space to leap up and put his legs around Strife's head. Once Strife sees what predicament he's in, it's already too late. He's been flipped over onto his back in a hurricanrana. Olsig holds position, locking his legs around Strife's head and unloads with a series of punches to his forehead.

Nick: Olsig looking to brawl here. This isn't usually his strategy, but Strife doesn't appear to be willing to deviate from his plan. I wouldn't be surprised if he keeps such a straightforward mentality for the remainder of this match.

Richard: The true meaning of grinding a victory out. It's how all the great ones do it.

Strife continues to receive punches to his head. Roberts can't do anything other than call for a rope break if he gets near ropes, but Strife is a good foot away and Olsig doesn't look to be giving any wiggle room. Olsig hits a six o clock elbow and causes Strife to involuntarily rise. Strife is free, but Olsig is in attack mode.

Nick: That elbow might have taken Strife out of his element.

Richard: And out of his mind.

Olsig hits an elbow to Strife's head and insultingly spins him around and applies a side head lock.

Nick: It's wise not to mess with Olsig. He's not afraid to play some mind games of his own. Add to the fact he just clocked Strife good with some strikes and this is just as effective as any of the rest holds Strife applied.

Richard: That six o clock elbow should be illegal, first off.

Nick: We're doing this under Olsig rules, Richard. Only rope breaks can be called for. Otherwise, no disqualifications or countouts. This match will be seen through until there is a clear and decisive winner.

Strife tries to spin out, but Olsig puts more weight on his chest and is able to shift his legs over and hold Strife's left down in a crucifix style pin.




Strife slithers an arm out, but Olsig makes his pay by sliding his weight up and putting more against his neck rather than a well built sternum. Strife is caught in another pinning predicament.




Nick: Olsig using Strife's own tactics against him. He might have been studying what Strife was doing and found a loophole.

Richard: Strife is only letting him use such a loophole to make people think Olsig stands a chance at retaining his gold. He doesn't.

With a face full of strain, Strife has to figure a way out or soon he'll be losing strength. Strife tries to roll under, but Olsig doesn't budge. He swears and looks for a way out. Olsig keeps his arms well pinned, but Strife has his left shoulder barely off canvas. He doesn't want to exert more energy while having to carry 221 pounds.

Nick: We've gone through about ten minutes of pure old school wrestling. Both men using headlocks and insignificant chops. If Olsig wants to break away, he'll soon increase tempo.

Richard: It'll bring this crowd alive that's for sure.

Nick: They are anxious, just as anxious as we are, to see something happen. But you can't go into a match like Colossus without knowing just where both you and your opponent stand.

Strife gets a bright idea, one so bright it is surprising a light bulb doesn't go off above his head. Strife begins lifting his legs up, trying to force Olsig over. With all his weight stuck high, Olsig didn't think of Strife trying to muscle his way out. Before Olsig can drop back down, Strife has already made his move and rolled backwards onto his knees and eventually to his feet. He has Olsig in his arms and flips him backwards with a fallaway slam.

Richard: Brilliant tactical counter there by my man CVS.

Nick: What, no prescription jokes there?

Richard: My writers are feeding them to me as we speak. Give me a few minutes.

Strife dusts his hands and darts over to drop an elbow across Olsig's sternum.

Nick: Strife about ready to – no, he's going back to a headlock.

With more force than before, Strife locks in a side head lock on Olsig, grinding his arm hard against the champion's neck.

Nick: Strife is willing to match wrestling intellect with Olsig rather than fight him.

Richard: It's a strange play, yes, but Olsig isn't going to be a Youngblood or Gamble and put you on the mat and try to make you submit.

Nick: He is all about being aerial and is not getting any chance to display those abilities, at least not yet.

Strife grits his teeth in frustration and squeezes on Olsig's head. The champion is once again on his back and doesn't look to be comfortable by any means. He looks for a variation of Strife's counter, but Strife spins 90 degress left and drops his knees across Olsig's biceps.




Olsig used all lower body strength to push Strife away and send him to the apron. Olsig gingerly rolls away over to a neutral corner while Strife stands confidently. Both men receive a round of applause from San Diego.

Nick: I think the slow ball games are over now. We're going to see some impact, right here.

Richard: Strife is going to own Olsig in every facet of wrestling, one by one. I wonder what comes next.

Strife steps between the middle and top rope and goes over to Olsig, feigning a collar and elbow lock. He goes for another takedown, but Olsig gains wrist control and spins around behind Strife. Olsig slips his head under Strife's left arm and pulls back, landing a belly to back suplex with a pin attempt.




Strife kicks out, but Olsig is back on his feet and ready to go. He reels off a boot and pushes Strife back, elbowing him before throwing him across far side. Olsig rushes ahead and clotheslines Strife, but keeps hold of the head, using ropes as leverage and a springboard for a wrap around DDT.

Nick: Unique combination by Olsig. Strife is flipped over. Cover.




Strife nudges out in time and is quickly brought up again by Olsig. An Irish whip across the ring leads into a clothesline and STO from the corner. Strife goes face first while Olsig kips up and lands a moonsault elbow dead center on Strife's spine. Another flip and cover.




Another kickout, but Olsig doesn't seem to mind, picking Strife up again and running him across. Olsig follows suit, waiting for Strife to hit the ropes before jumping behind him, landing on the middle rope, and ripping a page out of Lindsay Troy's playbook with a leg trap sunset powerbomb. Cover by Olsig.





Strife barely gets his shoulder up. The Aerial Diva doesn't bark at Roberts about a slow count, but rather keeps his offense going full blast. He takes a weary Strife up to his feet and backpedals him into a nearby corner. Olsig runs forward, puts feet to midsection, and flips Strife back in a monkey flip. Strife stumbles overhead and lands dead center in the ring. Olsig runs nearside and cartwheels into a 180 degree legdrop. Another cover.




Nick: Olsig not providing us much chance to talk about what he's doing right now. He picks Strife up again.

Richard: He's trying to exhaust the fucker.

Nick: He got a chance and is now bringing out fast paced offense. An Irish whip across the ring. It's not a matter of putting random spots together. He's trying to develop a rhythm. Get Strife to forget about using any headlocks.

Richard: He's also trying to kill him in the skull.

Nick: I wouldn't say specifically on his head, but all those moves in some capacity are focusing on Strife's neck. It's a perfect prelude -


A spinning heel kick to Strife's forehead sends The God of Snuff forward. Olsig hits the apron fluently and runs to an adjacent corner. He springboards up top and jumps straight for Strife, extending his right leg out. Olsig brings Strife down face first with an extended leg drop to the neck. Another flip and another cover.




Nick: Strife with yet another kickout. As I was saying, this strategy is a perfect prelude to a Sacrifice. Olsig doesn't want to hit that move twice. It takes a lot of energy out of him and all of his body to perform. He wants to get it on Strife and be one and done for tonight.

Richard: And he's softening him up now. Stupendous.

When Olsig brings Strife up, he's wobbly and has to hold Olsig for support. The Prince of Delusion doesn't give him any leverage, moving under and lifting Strife onto his shoulders. Olsig trudges a few paces left and drops Strife straight down on his head in a Death Valley Driver. Strife bounces over and is covered instantly.




Nick: Olsig now has to take a bit of a breather. He might have a tremendous arsenal of moves, but even magnificent wrestlers need a break from time to time.

Richard: He's also giving Strife a break.

Nick: Strife probably won't see it that way. He's been using far more energy than one would expect. Olsig went for seven consecutive pinfalls over a span of about three minutes, where Strife got no offense in whatsoever. Olsig is way ahead and won't necessarily lose momentum if he lets up a bit.

Olsig, breathing heavy, takes a gander at Strife, and spins around. Strife's vision is blurred and he's pretty close to seeing double to boot. Or maybe he's just seeing Olsig's boot as he whips himself off and forward with a dropkick. Strife takes it and has to roll over.

Nick: Here is pinfall number eight.




Nick: Strife can't not exert energy here, but it is exactly what Olsig wants. He doesn't want Strife slowing down a match to a snail's pace. Olsig is very content to keep it going like this until Strife cracks under his intense moveset.

Richard: Strife has got to go to a well and find something, or I'll agree he's going to get smothered.

Olsig gets Strife up again and gets him going across in an Irish whip. Strife lumbers forward, fully aware of yet another move coming down the pike. Olsig jumps and goes for his signature jumping superkick.


Richard: OH YEAH!

Nick: Olsig was able to land his superkick, but Strife also got something. He did perhaps all he could do in that situation and threw his arm forward for a low blow.

Richard: Olsig walked into it. Literally.

Nick: He did, Richard, and Strife now has a chance to at least gather himself. To come up with a new idea or mentality, and how to advance this match. He doesn't want Olsig to continue dictating at such a quick pace.

Richard: Olsig's plan might have gone out the window. When a man gets hit down there, it changes him in many ways.

Both wrestlers are down, Olsig in a fetal position while Strife is on his back staring up at spotlights. Anxious fans crowd together, providing their own insight as to what they believe will happen next. Which man will get up first? Who will strike the first blow? What strategy will next be annexed?

Nick: Olsig wants to pick up where he left off. Strife has got to go back to Olsig's legs I think. A submission has worked twice already tonight, in our last two matches. Can it work again?

Richard: Would Olsig tap? Strife has a submission finisher but it is rarely used.

Nick: If Olsig lands a few more moves, Strife might not have a choice. It might also be the most logical step for him to try and submit Olsig. We saw in the match against Chainz how hard it was to pin Olsig in extreme conditions. Sloan even got a Chain Reaction but couldn't pick up a victory.

Strife grasps at a middle rope and jerks himself up, wrapping his left arm around the top rope and slowly walking around to shake cobwebs loose. Olsig is over in a neutral corner on his knees, tugging on the top rope and pulling up. He glances over at Strife, who notices his glance and takes off. Olsig doesn't know what he's got in mind, and Strife probably doesn't either, but he can't afford to sit around and wait for Olsig to come to him. Strife goes for a punch, causing Olsig to drop down. When Olsig is bent 90 degrees, Strife slams a knee into his face and halts any ideas The Prince of Delusion may have had.


Nick: Blood is pouring out of Olsig's nose. That knee could have broken it.

Richard: Could have? Clean up in aisle three. Dude has a busted nose.

It might not have been what Strife wanted, but he's got a big opportunity in front of him and he's taking it. He brings his hands together and smashes Olsig across his back time after time with axe handle smashes. Olsig gets down to a knee and eventually two. Strife keeps firing until he's able to get behind Olsig.

Nick: Strife looking to gain any kind of advantage now. What's he trying to get?

Strife gets on Olsig's back and drives him down, locking in another rear chin lock. He's got a slight modification this time, placing his hand over Olsig's mouth.

Richard: Effin brilliant.

Nick: Strife knows Olsig's adrenaline is going to kick in because of the broken nose, so what better way to quell that than by bringing him back down to the ground?

Richard: There isn't a way. Except maybe shooting him in the face.

Nick: I somehow don't think it was planned for Strife to go this route, but he's thinking on his feet and thinking very intelligently.

Olsig is now frustrated, and a tad desperate. His feet are just out of reach from any ring ropes and his face is against canvas. He's also got a 245 pound man on his back trying to prevent him from breathing. Strife settles in for a long haul, stretching out and going back to kicking Olsig's hamstrings.

Nick: This is a great strategy. A great focus for Strife to have. Earlier, he might not have been able to hurt Olsig's legs, but now he can. While controlling his breathing, he's also wearing out those legs. Strife is thinking long term. He doesn't want Olsig landing that Sacrifice either because he knows what will happen if he does.

Strife continues pitter pattering on Olsig's legs. Roberts is down on a knee asking Olsig if he wants to quit. Through a muffled expression, Olsig says he does not. He tries to spit blood coming down the back of his nose, but Strife shuts his lips and forces him to swallow it. Another series of kicks to the leg. Strife looks back and brings his feet higher and higher, exerting more force.

Richard: Now he's got it.

Nick: He's kicking for the fences now, it seems. He wants Olsig to be immobile and not able to fly around the ring or get any of his moves off. Strife has a massive advantage right now and is able to rest himself at the same time, or at least rest his neck.

Richard: Strife bringing out all tools in his arsenal. You gotta respect a man who can bring it.

A grunt escapes Olsig while he searches for a way out. He again tries rocking, but Strife's body weight prevents him from gaining any good traction. He tries a roll. Strife blocks. He tries going under. Strife blocks again. Olsig is stuck and pounds his fist into the canvas.

Nick: Olsig definitely doesn't like it. He's losing air and being forced to have his legs systematically taken from him. Strife is displaying a blueprint on how to deflate Olsig.

Olsig pounds his hands into canvas again and tries to push off, but with no leg mobility he's denied freedom again. Strife puts his hand over Olsig's mouth again and wipes some blood on the champion's face. It's an insult, one which Strife can't help but smile at.


Richard: Olsig fighting dirty!

Until Olsig takes a bite out of Hollywood and sinks his teeth into Olsig's fingers. For a brief minute, Strife forgets his game plan and tries to relinquish his fingers from Olsig's mouth. The champion is going for blood of his own.

Nick: This might be Olsig's only way out.

Strife uses his free left hand to wind up and throw a bomb of a punch, but Olsig rolls right, putting his weight, and puts Strife on his back. He repays the favor by throwing a deep headbutt into Strife's nose.


Richard: It takes a sick human to throw their head around recklessly like that.

Strife is taken aback by such a retaliatory move, so much so that he rolls underneath the bottom rope and stands on the ringside mats. He is wringing out his hand and demanding a doctor to give him a rabies shot, while readjusting his breathing pattern.

Nick: Donnelly mentioned something earlier about an eye for an eye justice. I think Olsig just gave Strife his payback.

Richard: It's back to square one. Good. Now Olsig won't have an excuse when Strife wipes the floor with him.

If Strife is going to do any wiping, he's going to do it now. Olsig decides to let the aerial gods decide his fate as he shoots off the ropes and flips overhead with a somersault plancha. He comes down on top of Strife and makes sure to put most of his weight on The God of Snuff's neck.


Nick: High flying and keeping to a strategy of neck only moves by Olsig. He's definitely got a game plan and is sticking to it.

Richard: Fuck my life.

Olsig, rubbing out his hamstrings, looks around ringside and gets a mischievous look in his eyes.

Nick: Uh oh. I think Olsig just realized he's in his playground. There are chairs and all kinds of painful torture devices out here.

Richard: Get back in there, Strife! You are a wrestler. He's an animal!

Olsig pushes off his hands to get up and hobbles over toward a set of steel stairs. He reaches down and picks them up, lifting them at chest level.

Nick: All of Strife's strategic plans are about to go out the window. With his nose busted and all too.


Olsig puts his back to Strife, a truly bizarre move in its own right. He leaps up and backflips toward Strife, stairs still in hand.


Nick: A moonsault with the stairs!

Richard: Holy mother of Hoyt that had to fucking hurt!

Nick: Olsig just swung the tide back in his favor with one massive move. Let's take a look at that on our Double Feature.

Richard: I'll avert my eyes.

Double Feature: Olsig, even with shaky legs, leaps onto the apron and delicately soars backwards into an efficient moonsault. Strife's reaction alone upon impact tells a story which doesn't need to be told again.

Richard: Jesus. Tack on internal bleeding to Strife now.

Nick: Olsig isn't exactly getting up like a fox either. He's hurting. His legs caught concrete on that move.

Olsig is leaning against those stairs, teeth grinding against one another while trying to eliminate some pain in his legs. He's unable to capitalize on his advantage. If pinfalls counted anywhere, this one would be done and over on the spot. Olsig unfortunately didn't annex that stipulation into this match, and must endure bringing Strife into the ring and pinning him for a win.

Nick: I've never seen someone use stairs like that. It was malicious but could bite Olsig harder in the long term. He's gotta find a way to be just as effective without having full range of motion in his legs.

Olsig moves himself away from the stairs and decides to let Strife figure his own way back to the ring. He hobbles forward, leaning heavily on a support barricade to get him near ringside. Once he grabs onto a ring post, he slides underneath and waits on a rising Strife, who is looking more and more like a zombie with each passing move.

With an outstretched arm, Strife goes against his body's wishes and sits up. Blood is pouring out of his nose and his chest is bruising. He won't want to wake up tomorrow morning. But, he's got to think about here and now. He rolls over and crawls on fatigued hands and knees toward the ring. Olsig grunts and groans until erect and waits on a middle rope for Strife to enter.

Nick: Both men look fatigued, blown up, like they've been shout out of cannons, but there's a lot of mileage left in those tanks, I can assure you.

Richard: Good luck to both of them, all I can say.

Strife snails past a trail of his own blood and clutches ring apron cloth until he can properly stand. Olsig ponders a kick, but thinks better of it and allows Strife to get onto the apron. Olsig goes for a roaring elbow, but Strife ducks underneath and gets to Olsig's left. With Olsig struggling to move, Strife grabs hold of his neck and flips over top of the ropes and snaps Olsig down.


Richard/Nick: DIRECTOR'S CUT!

Nick: Out of NO WHERE!

Richard: OH. MY. GOD.


Richard: Dude, fuck double features on Olsig, give me one of that right now.

Double Feature: Olsig turns around slowly, enough for Strife to anticipate where he's going to be and grab his neck. Strife flips overhead in a somersault and barely clears the top rope, but is able to snap Olsig down with his Director's Cut.

Nick: Definitely innovative to say the least.

Richard: But Strife can't cover. What is his malfunction?

Strife paws out, trying to reach Olsig, and now looks for where he's at. Muttering under his breath, Strife etches himself forward, crawling on his elbows over toward a prone Olsig.

Nick: Does he have enough in him?

Richard: He's got it. A few more feet!

Strife spits out a huge wad of blood and tries to reach out with his right arm to get any part of his hand over Olsig...



But comes up inches short. His fingertips rest right next to Olsig.

Nick: Olsig is spent. He's not moving, but Strife couldn't seal the deal.

Richard: We're doomed to a fucking life of Olsig being a champion. We know how long he can hold an individual belt too.

Nick: We'll get through it together, Rich.

Richard: [about to cry] Fuck you man, I'm going to GCW!

Effects from Olsig's insane moonsault prevented Strife from pinning him, and now it's an arduous task for either wrestler to even move. Olsig is able to roll away, barely, but Strife now can't get him with a last ditch effort, or accidental move forward. Strife's hand raises off the canvas. At the same time, his legs move up and down. He's trying to get some feeling back in his body.

Nick: They've gotta fight. They've gotta get up and give it all they've got. This might be their only chance. Only one person has ever main evented Colossus two times.

Richard: He also lost both times.

Olsig coughs and wipes blood away from his lips, lifting his head up and pulling against a bottom rope to help get up. Strife snorts blood of his own and leaves a pool where his head once rested. The God of Snuff claws into a turnbuckle and uses his other hand to push off. His head goes up to the second buckle while his arms move up to try and get hold of ropes.

Nick: It's amazing either of them are up. Both have taken bone jarring maneuvers.

Strife gets to a knee and gives a superman's push. He gets up to his feet while Olsig rises from a three point stance and wraps himself around Strife. Olsig swings around and executes a belly to belly suplex. A cover is academic.




Nick: Strife with a kickout. Olsig is still sticking to a mentality, perfectly setting up Strife for a future Sacrifice.

Richard: Good luck hitting it and covering him afterward.

Nick: Olsig will need to make sure he locks onto Strife on the descend, that's for sure.

Strife slowly rolls away while Olsig gets up to his damaged knees, hobbling forward and going for a hold of Strife's neck.

Nick: He could be ready to go for it right now.

Richard: It is the smartest move in the book.

Strife feels Olsig's fingertips on his neck and goes into last resort mode, spinning around and catching a hold of Olsig's right knee, pulling him down into a kneebar.



Richard: Oh God, if his legs weren't killed before!

Nick: This is going to take one leg completely away from Olsig. He's going to be a one legged man in an asskicking contest.

Richard: And we all know how that pans out.

Olsig emits a deranged scream of pain. Strife has found the sweet spot and is ready to break Olsig's leg just to get his chance at glory. The Prince of Delusion punches the mat time after time, cursing himself for making such a rookie mistake. Now he needs to find a way to get out or soon he'll pass out. He tries bending his leg to get away, but Strife has got some kind of a grip.

Richard: Three matches tonight are going to end in submission. The three biggest matches of the year are going to end in submission.

Nick: Olsig still hasn't submitted yet, but he's got to be damn close.

He didn't win the Dual Halo to come onto PRIME's biggest stage and quit, but Strife is leaving him no choice. Strife has clearly done his homework and stuck to a methodical plan. He's played world class.

Another loud and frightening scream from Olsig as he inches closer and closer to ropes. Strife pulls harder on his submission and begs Olsig to give up.

But Vangelus Olsig didn't suffer all those years and fail all those times to quit. He won't quit. He'd rather have his leg broken at Colossus than go down and lose his strap this way. Olsig tries to reach, but his body just doesn't have enough strength. Bending his leg becomes harder and harder. He looks back at Strife, who has a delighted grin on his face and tugs again.

Nick: Strife is not going to let go. He's prepared to stick this through until the bitter end.

Richard: And I don't think it is far away.

Nick: You might be right. Olsig has got to be either seconds away from going out or just tapping to save his career.

Olsig moves his available leg around, trying to do something with it. He has agility, but not enough to rotate. Olsig reaches out with his arms and tries to get a hold of Strife, but it becomes all too apparent Strife is ready to dig in for an extended stay when he sinks his head toward the floor.

Nick: And that might just do it.

Olsig looks at his arm and thinks about tapping. He thinks for another second but decides to grind out a little longer. He looks down at his other leg, already injured, but tries pushing on it. He gets only a few inches. He can't sustain any kind of consecutive pushes. Olsig uses the free leg again and wonders what he can do with it. Strife appears so far away and Olsig hasn't been known as a guy with great reach.

But he's gotta try. And he winds his foot up, bringing it down, hoping to hit something on Strife.

Olsig's first kick hits Strife's right arm. His second gets Strife's wrist. Strife pulls back down, but Olsig has some confidence. He's doing something and moves his leg harder and faster on Strife's arms. Strife is wincing, but still pulling. Olsig vehemently kicks now, as if this is his last possible effort to get out and have a chance to win.

Nick: Strife is loosening, but he's more annoyed than anything.

Richard: Keep it on. He's almost finished!


The Prince of Delusion hasn't heard crowd support in such a long time, but a newfound energy goes through him. He kicks harder, a little higher and is able to kick enough times in rapid succession that Strife ends up breaking the hold when Olsig is able to start shrimping. He bends at the waist and scoots away from Strife's loosening grip. The ropes are now in sight and he makes one last grasp for them.


Nick: Vangelus Olsig survived an excruciating kneebar!

Richard: But did he really? He's been worn down. Very worn down. He's got one leg and no nose to breath out of.

Nick: Strife has a worn out skull and no nose to breath out of.

Strife, frustrated, and a bit fatigued from blowing a lot of his energy, moves over and hooks Olsig's freshly tortured leg.




The Prince of Delusion has just enough in his shoulders to kick out. Strife tries another cover and hooks both legs.




Olsig kicks out again, rolling himself back over. Strife slams a hand against the canvas and looks over at Olsig. He can't stand, so Strife decides to pull up and make him. Two hands on Olsig's shoulders and The Prince is up.



Richard: But it hurt him worse than it hurt Strife!

The God of Snuff crumbles to the canvas, but he knows Olsig can't jump up and hit him with a high impact maneuver. He summons up enough courage to fight through surging pain and grabs Olsig by his legs and picks him up.

Nick: A Cult Classic on the way here.

Richard: And knowing Strife, he's going straight for the nose.

Strife pushes Olsig out, but Olsig goes to counter. Only, his counter doesn't work. He slips to the canvas and rolls Strife down with him. Strife goes to get away while Qualcomm is about ready to chant "You fucked up"

Nick: A bot -


Richard: WHAT?


Richard: SON OF A BITCH!

Richard stands up and slams his headset down, screaming at Strife to kick away.

Nick: Both men went down and Olsig was able to keep hold of a foot!

Olsig now has Strife bellowing out in agony. The God of Snuff tries to scoot around, but Olsig is willing to sacrifice his own legs and grapevines.

Nick: How bad does Olsig want it? HOW BAD DOES STRIFE WANT IT?


Olsig is arched back, teeth gritting, head tilted to right side, blood dropping instead of going back in his mouth.

Nick: Olsig does have a submission repertoire, but he's never had to use it much. Now he doesn't have a choice!


Strife's eyes roll back in his head and he slumps down. His arms can't stretch. Roberts rushes over and lifts his arm up.


It falls limp. Roberts holds his finger up. Olsig continues to strain. Roberts lifts again.


It falls limp again, maybe quicker than before. Roberts holds Strife's arm up again and prepares to drop it.


Roberts let's go.

Fifty percent down.

Seventy five percent.


One... Ninety one.

Strife extends a middle finger to Qualcomm.



Nick: Oh MAN! Strife was so close to going out!

Richard: But he didn't! He didn't! THANK HOYT HE DIDN'T!

Richard slams a fist into the announcers table.

Nick: He's still stuck in an airtight ankle lock though.

Olsig arches himself even further backward. He doesn't want Strife to gain any energy from over 75,000, even though they are indifferent on a winner. They've been treated to a tremendous night of wrestling and this is a fitting end. They are pulling for someone to win in dramatic fashion.

And Strife moves. He knows the only way to get out is to find some ropes and hang on. It will mean sacrificing his arms, but he's got hope. If a player has daylight, he's got to take it.

Strife inches, closer and closer toward ropes. He's dragging Olsig across canvas in an incredible feat of strength.


Nick: This crowd WILLING Castor Strife forward. He's getting there. I think he's gonna get it.

Olsig does everything short of pulling Strife's foot off his body to keep him stagnant, but nothing works. Strife extends his right arm out for a rope, centimeters away.


But like earlier, when he tried a Director's Cut, his arm doesn't make it. Olsig's confident soars and he pulls like a lion.


Strife is flat on his face. Roberts contemplates calling for the bell but gives courtesy to such a big match. He needs to make sure Strife is out. He dives over and picks up his arm again.


Nick: No way can he do it again.

Roberts pulls up a second time.


Nick: Here comes three. Olsig is one second away from retaining his belt.


Strife's arm heads to the canvas...

But is caught over the bottom rope.



With a long string of profanities, Olsig ceases his hold on Strife's ankle.

Nick: WOW! He got there. He fucking got there.

Richard: Unbelievable. Both men are giving it everything.

Nick: Strife was so close twice to going down.

Richard: What can they do next?

Nick: It remains to be seen, but we have to see it. There has to be a winner.

Olsig sits up and stares at a limp Castor Strife. He's got a bewildered look on his face, wondering just what more Strife can take before he'll go down. It didn't take this much effort at UltraViolence. It hasn't taken this much effort to put someone down in a great amount of time.

Nick: Olsig has to try it. He has to try and Sacrifice Strife even if it means further damage to his own legs.

Richard: Gotta, but he needs to be careful.

Nick: As careful as can be after what Strife was able to pull out earlier.

Slamming a fist repeatedly into his right leg, Olsig gets some feeling back and puts weight on it. He spits blood out and stumbles back, using a ton of leverage from the ropes to keep him vertical. Olsig punches his leg six more times before moving forward. It is like carrying a mountain just to take a single step. Strife has only gotten his hands on a bottom rope and doesn't seem to recognize yet that his legs are practically useless.


Nick: What the hell? The First?

Richard: Muse is coming with him. This is interesting.

Nick: They better be getting out here for a front row seat. A main event at Colossus should be settled by the two men in the ring.

Unless First plans on Muse sitting in his lap, his plans aren't to enjoy this classic. He's got a steel chair in hand and is walking with purpose toward the ring.

Olsig keeps a weary eye on the pair, who are arguing while storming down the aisle. The Prince turns to Strife and grasps two handfuls of skull. He pulls Strife up and tries to lift him up. Two things happen. Strife plummets, unable to keep his own weight on one leg, and Olsig falls with him. Strife moves a few inches ahead of Olsig, but both lean on nearby ropes.

Nick: First on the apron!

And he's got that steel chair in hand, ready to wind up!


The swoosh sound of a bring around is heard, but Strife lets pain from his own leg injury overtake him and slips just out of where the chair is supposed to hit.



But Vangelus Olsig doesn't.

Like a tree after its final cut, Olsig falls backwards stiff and hits the canvas.

First stands on apron dumbfounded for a moment.


The sound of pure hatred. Devin Shakur doesn't get this kind of heat. Matt Ward didn't when accepting Jason Snow's Hall of Fame award.


Richard: He's just gone and made Castor champion!

Muse is one hundred percent Castor, but First drops down and turns away in disgust.




With Muse in toe, First turns and slams his steel chair against concrete. First vehemently shakes his head and gets littered with popcorn buckets and beer cups. A few signs hit him as he makes a long walk up the aisle. One which will live in infamy.

Nick: I hope he knows what he just did! He just ruined a great match by trying to promote a personal agenda. This fucking sucks!

Richard: He just gave fate a new way to bring Castor the belt!

Nick: Bullshit! Olsig and Strife were having an ALL TIME CLASSIC! And he goes and ruins it! Fuck The First!

Castor Strife, even though he was the intended target, grins sheepishly. He turns around and sees Olsig out. Nobody is home.

With one long jump, Strife jumps at Olsig and hits him in the groin.


Olsig barely moves. Strife hooks a leg and prepares for a long celebration.






… Is what Strife heard in his head after Roberts counted two.



But Olsig slipped a shoulder up a tenth of a second before three.

Strife already has his arm raised high in victory. He's about to thank the academy and everybody who voted for him.

Strife: "I TOLD YOU!

Strife wipes some saliva, but mostly blood, from around his lips.


Strife laughs manacially, still unaware he's not yet victorious.

When he sees Roberts hold up two fingers, he flips the fuck out.


Strife is down on his knees, eyes looking up to a starry night and wondering what else can he do. He lets out an earth shattering scream.

Nick: Strife better stop freaking out or he's going to lose!


Nick: Olsig kicked out. We have replay.

Double Feature: A side by side comparison of Roberts' hand and Olsig's shoulder shows that, indeed, before three, Olsig got that shoulder up. The match is still on.

Strife puts bloody hands over his face and tears at his skin. Small red lines form around his cheeks

Nick: Tonight... Tonight has just been about it all. This is Colossus. This is the best Pay-Per-View of the year and it's being universally known.

Olsig's fingers ball into a fist. Strife doesn't want to look back, because he knows Olsig is there. He knows Olsig isn't going to go away. It might take a literal kitchen sink to his head to put him down.

A fresh coat of blood rolls down Olsig's face from First's chair shot.

Strife drops to all fours and starts shaking. At first it looks comical, but after a few seconds, an overwhelming amount of rage is seen. His eyes are psychotic. Blood pours out of his nose, dripping, and also dropping from his tip in a pool below his body.

Richard: Dude is about to go fucking mental.

Nick: Castor Strife has given it EVERYTHING. And still... Vangelus Olsig is here!

Like a horror villain who refuses to die, Olsig's veins bulge while he pulls himself up. It's a nightmare. More blood slides down his face, decorating his neck and throat in an eerie crimson.

Strife is breathing heavy, grinding teeth spitting blood in Olsig's direction.

Nick: I hate to say it, but this might be it.

Olsig rolls to his side and grabs a hold of a bottom rope. Strife body seizes, his shaking now uncontrollable.

With a primal roar, he pulls up to his knees and glares down at his legs.

Richard: Dude is willing his legs to stop hurting. And I think it worked.

Strife stalks over to Olsig in a trance. He grabs at Olsig and pulls his neck close.

Richard: Lock this shit up.



A boot to Strife's midsection. Olsig grabs hold of Strife's waist and shakes, his legs almost buckling while lifting Olsig onto his shoulders. If Olsig didn't have a turnbuckle and ring post to help him, both men would be on their backs again.

Olsig has stolen Strife's look and runs forward.


He launches Strife high and holds on while he slams into a red canvas. An explosion of blood forms around both wrestlers.





Richard: NO! NO! NO! GET OUT!




Daniel Holmes moves his hand to ring the bell.

But Roberts screams at him to hold off.


Richard's legs buckle underneath him. He kisses the ground.


Qualcomm can't believe what they are witnessing. Roberts stands with his mouth ajar. Nobody applauds. 75,000 people can go silent during a pivotal match.

Nick: I'm speechless.

The Prince of Delusion's eyes are shut. He shakes his head to the left slowly. Then to the right. Back left. Again right. The slow turn becomes rapid. He doesn't want to believe Strife kicked out.

It's all an illusion, he thinks. He dethroned another victim.

His eyes open.

Strife's arm is tilted.

Olsig falls backwards, arms outstretched, defeated. He's holding a conversation with himself and whoever is up above listening.


Nick: … Wh... What will it take?


Strife's eyes struggle to stay open. His body is stuck in this position. When his left eye looks at his shoulder, a hint of surprise comes out. Even he can't believe he lived through that and still has a chance.

Olsig gives a double bird to the heavens and then sits back up, a hand on his back and determined eyes fixed on Strife.

Strife has to be seeing triple of Olsig, because he is swatting about six inches away from where Olsig is sitting.

Olsig throws Strife's legs to his right side and gets up to a knee.

Nick: Strife... He's gotta be on auto-pilot.

Richard: He's running on cocaine and hope.

Nick: Whatever it is... God, this is a hell of a way to cap Colossus. A HELL of a way.

A fist grinding into his boot, Olsig pushes up to both feet and clears blood away from his eyes. More pours down, but he only needs a second to see his opposition. He reaches down and gets hold of Strife, all muscles in his body straining to pick Strife from the canvas and get him ready for another Sacrifice, or something worse.

But on his ten millionth wind, Castor Strife lunges forward and snaps Olsig around in a snap swinging neckbreaker.





Nick: COVER!

Richard: ETCH IT NOW!




Castor's contingent blows the fuck up.


Marcus Patterson stands up and gets ready to move the championship forward.

Bernie Roberts looks down and then over at Marcus. It seems he's nodding.

Daniel again goes to hit the bell.

Strife has a far away look in his eyes, but they light up when they realize he didn't feel Olsig's arm pull up.

Roberts falls to his knees and holds up two fingers.

Richard faints.

Nick: NO! NO! YOU... NO!

Stuart comes out of his seat and stands in shock. Did he just witness another miracle?

Roberts points to Olsig's foot.

On the bottom rope.

It was there after two, but before three.

75,000 stunned faces.

Double Feature: Olsig's foot was on the rope.

Strife's eyes roll back in his head and he collapses.

Olsig might be unconscious at the moment, but he's got a chance to retain.


Nobody knows what to do. What to say. What to think.

Is it still possible for either man to get up and perform?

Nick Stuart tries to get back and commentate, but he sits down and stands back up. He demands another replay.

Triple Feature: At two and a half, Olsig's foot pushes up and limply hangs on the bottom rope.

Stuart shakes his head and sits back down, flabbergasted.

All signs have dropped, but everybody is still standing. They don't want to sit down.

Strife's head is on Olsig's chest, a chest barely moving. An occasional breath escapes.

A red line forms from Strife's mouth as his eyes are glazed. He wants to grasp at everything that hurts, but his arms won't allow him to.

And, even more miraculously, Olsig's eyes open.

They close again, and painstakingly open again.

Strife absentmindedly slaps at Olsig's foot, trying to get it off the rope for another pinfall, but he can't do it.

Strife: [gurgled] fuck

He coughs another wad of blood and looks back at the ring. It's covered in blood. His blood. Olsig's blood. They have both bled for this cause.

A cause which hasn't been finished.

Strife has to finish it.

Olsig has to finish it.

At the same time, they both move toward a standing position. Olsig moves his foot and tugs at the second rope, pulling it down as far as resistance will allow. Strife moves to a seated position and puts both arms at his neck.

Olsig reaches for the top rope and is able to get there. He struggles, clinching his teeth while pulling harder and harder.

Strife rolls to his side and gets to a knee. Then two.

Neither can be sure of what the other will do next. They probably can't be sure of what they'll do next.

But something has to give.

Someone has to give.

Strife surges up, but backpedals, pawing for a rope. He gets one, barely, but goes halfway through it. Olsig is standing and moves forward. He limp runs and delivers a forearm that puts Strife through the ropes. His feet stay inside, hugging the top rope. Strife gets a push of adrenaline and rises up, peppering Olsig with a right hand.


Olsig gets another right hand.

Strife retaliates.

Olsig returns fire.

Strife puts his all into another punch.

Olsig drops to a knee. His arm rises to throw another punch.

Strife falls onto his backside.

He kicks forward at Olsig, turning the champion's head.

Olsig rolls away. His shoulders rest on the bottom rope.

Strife gets back to his knees. Olsig reaches up and pushes off to get back to his.

A right hand from Strife.

A right from Olsig.

Right from Strife.



Neither man budges.

Strife grabs Olsig and headbutts him.

Olsig recoils and returns one of his own.

Each blow now seems to be willing the other back up.

Strife reaches a foot and uses it on Olsig.

Olsig gets his legs under him and lands an elbow.

Strife is fully vertical and swings at Olsig.

Olsig blocks and boots Strife in the gut.

Strife shoots back up, straight into Olsig's chin.

The champion's legs buckle.

Strife grabs his neck and spins around, snapping around.

Director's Cut.

He collapses on Olsig.

Roberts counts.




Is this it?

Daniel doesn't move.

Neither does Marcus.

Richard and Nick glance at each other with wide eyes.

Everybody is staring at Bernie Roberts.

Olsig's foot isn't on the bottom rope.

And his shoulder isn't tilted.





A loud and long sigh escapes Qualcomm. A series of fireworks go off around the inner lip of the stadium as 75,000 fans applaud.

They applaud Colossus.

They applaud Vangelus Olsig's effort.

They applaud Castor Strife.

Vince Howard makes it official.


This time... it's real.

Daniel rings the bell a second time just for those who think it is a bluff.

Marcus stands up and hands Richard the championship.

He slides it in to Bernie.

Bernie looks over at Castor, who still hasn't moved.

He probably won't move for a few minutes.

But it doesn't matter.

He's done what he set out to do.

Bernie crouches down and opens Strife's hand. He places the Universal Championship inside and makes Strife grip the belt.

He then raises his arm.

Strife still hasn't moved.

But he's got gold in his hand.

The symbol of a dream.

Is now his reality.

The overwhelming applause continues, while PRIME's logo appears at the bottom of the screen.

Colossus VII is in the books.



PPV Opener


Opening Commentary



Mostly Darryl, Very Little Billy

A Very Swagtastic Ending


Hall of Fame Induction: Jason Snow

Chris on Highlights with Mattchu on Speech

Mike and Ross







Just When You Thought All The Canucks Were Gone...

Lindz, Darryl, Brunk


Making the choice

Mike Stanton


Results compiled and archived with Backstage V2.

PRIME: Seven years of excellence! Live on HBO!