Opening Shots
Starring: The Highwaymen
We open with a panning shot of the Kohl Center, packed with excited fans jumping up and down and trying to make it on TV. There are a few signs being held up. Some in particular:
RHINE: NEXT FUSE UNIVERSAL CHAMPION
FRED FUSION IS HIDING IN MY BACKYARD
PROTECTING THE WORLD FROM THE GUY BEHIND ME'S UGLY FACE
Pyro shoots from the ceiling, and the fans cheer at the great new budget. We stop panning directly on a smiling Scott Ambrose and a bored Hunter Jones.
Ambrose: Welcome, fans, to the 50th edition of Killzone, live in Madison, Wisconsin! I'm Scott Ambrose, and with us as always is the ever-present Hunter Jones.
Jones: FUSE IS NOT THE PLACE I ONCE LOVED!
Ambrose: Hunter is most probably referring to what went down at the end of the Pay-Per-View event War In Washington, after Jonathan Rhine won the number one contendership for the Universal Title, he was saved from a beat down from three other wrestlers who have now with Rhine formed an alliance to combat the Affliction.
Jones: THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!
Ambrose: But it has, Hunter! We've heard over the past few weeks through the Hues of Fuse that the group of Jonathan Rhine, Jason Cruise, Cyrus Raynes and Aimz goes by the name of The Highwaymen. And Hunter, you have to wonder what ramifications it's going to have on the forthcoming episodes of Killzone, and we...
AND THE LIGHTS GO OUT.
"RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
And, like last time, the creepy voice of Johnny Cash rings out over the speakers, causing the fans to go even crazier, as they now know what's coming.
# I was a highwayman. Along the coach roads I did ride #
# With sword and pistol by my side… #
Ambrose: Speaking of! Here comes the newest alliance in FUSE!
And this time, the Johnny Cash breaks off into "P.H.A." by The Used, and the lights come back on to reveal the same four wrestlers who joined together at WIW standing below the Tron.
"rrrrRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"
Ambrose: Ladies and gentlemen, the Highwaymen...ARE HERE!
# Your dream vacation, Smile hostage refuge #
# A work in progress you bleed just like you puke while running a mile #
# I beg to differ, make me an offer #
# Warm summer rain, you bleed just like you puke while running a mile #
The four walk, side by side, as they near the ring. Jonathan Rhine and Jason Cruise are on the outside, and they simultaneously hold both of their title belts high.
Ambrose: Jason Cruise won the Livewire Title from El Diablo at War In Washington, and Rhine retained his Custom Chaos Title, making him now the longest reigning champion of that title!
Jones: Ho hum.
# Hey are you okay? #
# You look pretty low #
# Very handsome awkward #
# Do you feel okay? #
# You look pretty low #
# Very handsome awkward #
Rhine, Cruise, Raynes and Aimz all enter the ring in various ways. While Aimz and Cruise raise their arms, soaking up the reaction, Jonathan Rhine and Cyrus Raynes look out over the arena with blank faces.
Jason Cruise calls for a microphone from SKYE, and upon getting it he puts the title over his shoulder and begins speaking.
Cruise: Intense, isn't it?
The fans, still jazzed up over the arrival of the Highwaymen, drown out the words of Jason Cruise who stands back with his brethren, taking it all in.
Cruise: Last week [pause] Last week it started. The Highwaymen, myself... it all came together. Weeks and weeks of planning, of scheming, of biting our tongues... of taking beat down after beat down from the Affliction. Not just me, but watching others be dealt the same fate. It all led to this...
Jason gestures towards the group.
Cruise: What happened out there last week. Cyrus, Aimz, Jonathan, and I... we waited.
And now the wait is over.
Are you prepared fellas? Clinton... Lane... Raul... Jeb. Are you ready to fight fire with fire? It's been so easy up until now, the game of numbers. Using four men to attack the helpless, the weary, the weak. But now it isn't with you or against you. Now there's somebody, someones... standing in your way. For whomever doesn't want to join your side, well..
Jason pauses.
Cruise: They'll have a home right here.
Jason gestures towards his shirt that reads HIGHWAYMEN in bold, blue letters.
Cruise: No longer will men have to run and hide from you, no longer will people be afraid to speak their mind. We are the answer that FUSE has been waiting for, the saviors of this company, of this business. The four of us, we don't stand just to get in your way, no, that would be too easy. What we are is four wrestlers from different paths, four vagabonds who came together with one goal in mind.
Salvation.
To restore wrestling as we once knew it.
Where it was ok to be different, where it was ok to voice your opinion without fear of being jumped from behind. Where it was ok to stand for your beliefs, not be forced to compromise or conform.
And though it may start with you Affliction, it doesn't end there. Because tearing you apart leg by leg, piece by piece, while most definitely in our game plan it would be foolish to be the means of our existence, just as it would be foolish for you to think that's what this was all about. Whereas Lane Stevens may be the engine that fuels Affliction, you boys together are our engine. You drove us to this point, YOU made this happen. You gave Aimz, Cyrus, Jonathan and I no other choice.
You said with you... or not at all.
This is not at all, gentlemen.
This is the alternative you left us with.
This is the way it had to be and the way it WILL be.
What happened at War In Washington was the first shot. And soon what Clinton Sage holds most dear to his heart will be the second. You paved this path for us...
Jason pauses.
Cruise: And now the Highwaymen are walking straight towards you.
Ambrose: That's the plan, Hunter! The Highwaymen are going to take the Affliction out!
Jones: With what? Threatening words and the Livewire Title? Give me a break.
Amid the cheers, Cruise hands the microphone to Aimz, who nods to Jason and puts her foot on the ropes, leaning out and looking at the crowd with a smirk on her face.
Aimz: We're supposed to be telling you guys why we're here. Everyone knows that I hate speaking in front of crowds half the time, but this time I might actually be saying something important.
She's received by cheers and a small, but audible number of boos.
Aimz: Bad as I've been, I can't stand bullies. I can't stand knowing that somewhere in this industry - this company, even - there's someone who can't catch a break. They're sitting backstage right now, probably hearing a whole lot of untrue things being said about themselves behind their backs... on the internet, in the chat rooms, in the papers. They're shuffling their way in the lower cards, working through dark matches or maybe even appearing on this very television show... but as high up as they seem to get in the company, there's always someone higher. There's always someone cheating everybody else - planting a rumor or making a sneak attack when it looks like the kid might get a break. Half the world knows this already, but I think it's important for me to note right now that, ladies and gentlemen, I'm the kid.
Amy lowers her head for a moment, and looks to her newfound friends to apologize in advance for her coming rants. They nod to her, and she smiles before looking around the massive room with a fire in her eyes.
Aimz: I'm one of the people who's suffered because of the bullshit whims of bitter, once-scorned people who can't make their own way and choose to ride someone else's back all the way to the market. For years, it's been heard that an easy way in this business to make yourself look good is to put yourself over someone else. It's true in any industry. And people do it all the time - not by talent, not by drive but by catching another person at their weakest moment, or CREATING that weakest moment by finding out what they can and using it to cast the one they want to hop over down into the mud with the rest of what they'd have you think is filth.
Once more, the audience is going wild and once more, there are a few not-so-positive voices among them.
Aimz: I hear those few boos, and you know what? I think I know why you're doing it. As with anyone, some of you are gonna hate me just because I'm not your cup of tea, but I'd like to talk to the two or three of you who're booing and considering throwing your sodas at me because of something you heard that Aimz did. I've been on the recieving end of some of the nastiest rumors and personal attacks you can imagine. If you don't believe me, read the message boards. There's ALWAYS been a clique hanging around to feed you a line about me, whose success supercedes the fact that they got there by driving down the competition under PATHETIC circumstances.
She's starting to sound twice as angry as before, thoughts of the past creeping back through her mind and straight into her lips.
Aimz: Through shit-talk and through sneak attacks, The Affliction survive by their numbers. It's a mob mentality... the same as I've seen in fWo, in OSW, anywhere. If enough people want to be on top, they'll band together and spit on anyone they can find. I got a lot of that a few years ago from a crowd of morons that gathered around a three-inch prick who didn't like the idea of fessing up to his own actions, and I've been taking it in all ends of the rumor mill ever since.
Jones: ALL ends, huh?
Ambrose: Stop it, Hunter!
Aimz: If there had been even two or three people on my side back then, we could've stopped it. So now that I've got a few guys behind me, I intend to help make sure that bullies and backstage politickers EVERYWHERE get shut the hell down, one by one, and it starts in FUSE... it starts with the downfall of The Affliction and the system they thrive in. You're not the only mob anymore, and you're about to find out that verbal circle-jerks aren't gonna get you anywhere when you're outnumbered by people who won't simply take what you're feeding them.
The fans cheer louder as Aimz nods, then hands the microphone over to Cyrus Raynes, who looks a bit nervous at this. Rhine taps his shoulder and whispers something, and Raynes nods, looking more confident. He puts the microphone to his lips.
Raynes: Well, I have to...
The cheers that have been ringing out the entire time grow louder, and Cyrus Raynes has to stop as he looks around at the fans in amazement.
Ambrose: He's never had this kind of reaction, Hunter! He's truly awed by it!
Jones: And why has he never had that reaction? I'll let you think about that.
Raynes: Uh, thanks. I have to admit that I wasn't that big on doing this to begin with. I didn't really see much into it. But now I do, because I thought about my shot at the Livewire Title. Before I won the thing.
He pauses, and anger comes to his face as he begins speaking.
Raynes: I was cheated out of beating that little punk Stevie. His giant bitch Stewie had to come in and save the day.
Ambrose: That's bold of the former Livewire Champion, calling them by pet names.
Jones: Everybody knows Lane's pet name is Corporal Hotpants.
Ambrose: ...
Jones: DON'T JUDGE ME.
Raynes: And I realized, that happens to everyone. And it shouldn't. We shouldn't have to sit by and watch people get screwed out of title shots, like me or Jason.
Jason Cruise nods and mouths "damn right" as Cyrus continues.
Raynes: So Stewie, I'm going to make sure that when you try to stick your nose in business that concerns me or my new friends, I'm going to give that nose and the rest of your face a little reconstructive surgery. That's what you can expect from me. And as for the rest of you guys: Stevie, Artie, El Dildo...
Ambrose: Artie?
Jones: EL DILDO? SOMEONE LYNCH THAT MAN FOR SPEAKING ILL OF THE MEXICAN DEVIL!
Raynes: Here's what you can expect from the rest of us.
He spreads his arm across the ring, looking at his comrades.
Raynes: You can expect us not to back down. You can expect us to defend what has gone undefended for so long. In short, you can expect a fight. Are you ready for one?
Raynes stares to the back for a moment before looking back at Rhine and handing him the microphone. The crowd instantly erupts.
"RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
Ambrose: And now it's time for the man to speak! The man who's facing Clinton Sage for that title whenever he wants! The man who beat all odds to become the number one contender! The New Life!
Rhine looks around for a bit, then leans against the ropes, takes a few steps towards the center of the ring, and bends down, shouting.
Rhine: MAAAAAAADISSSSOOOOOOOOOOON!
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"
Jonathan Rhine looks out at the crowd, a smile on his face. As much as he loved the moment at the end of WIW, he’s loving this one more.
Rhine: Thank you for your reception. It's great to put in so much hard work and have it rewarded each week by your support.
Ambrose: This man is so...
Jones: Stupid.
Ambrose: Respectful!
Rhine: Now, to get on to business. Affliction.
A chorus of boos starts and Rhine nods.
Rhine: Now, I'm sure you guys have some revenge in store. And that's fine. You want payback? Do me a favor. Get a pen and your checkbook. In the dollar amount, write whatever you want to do to us...
Rhine smiles wider.
Rhine: Then write the check out to the Affliction, and kick your own asses however you wish.
There is a huge cheer as the members of the Highwaymen nod supportively.
Rhine: You did this to yourself, guys. Anything you got at War In Washington – and everything you're going to get in the future – can be directly attributed to the way you have run roughshod here since your inception. To bring up a cliché, Sage, Stevens...you reap what you sow. Well, you've been sowing seeds of revenge for weeks and weeks. And you're just getting to the reaping. That's where we come in.
Rhine spreads his arm across the team, who each put their hands up to soak in the reaction.
Rhine: We have banded together not only to shut you down, but to set an example. We are not a direct result of the Affliction's reign of terror, but a result of all of wrestling's evil and tyranny. We are a group of people who want to show the world that there is still some good out there.
Rhine returns to the center of the ring, where the other members surround him in a triangle.
Rhine: Where there is manic violence, we have steadfast determination and no-nonsense behavior.
He points at Cruise, who waves to the fans reaction.
Rhine: Where there is a blabbing motormouth who spouts empty and needless self-gratification, we have a mouthpiece of truth with the skills to back up her words.
Aimz smirks as Rhine points to her.
Rhine: And where there is a big man who uses his strength to prey on the weak, we have a fair, focused fighter.
Cyrus Raynes makes no reaction, yet gets a loud cheer anyway.
Rhine: Together, we represent a force that oppose the negative forces that have controlled our sport for far too long. We don't want to brag about ourselves, or claim domination. Instead, we want to be an example.
Rhine looks towards the back, imagining all of the wrestlers sitting back there listening.
Rhine: Of strength. Of determination. Of morality. In essence, we want to be an example of everything that the Affliction is not. Now, I want you to know this, Affliction. We are not you, and that is a good thing. We are the opposite. We are the antithesis.
Rhine leans over the ropes.
Rhine: We are the Highwaymen. And you...you are in a whole mess of trouble.
"P.H.A." plays again as Rhine hands the microphone back to SKYE and the foursome roll out of the ring.
Ambrose: And strong opening words for the Highwaymen, directed at both The Affliction and the rest of the wrestlers backstage! A new force is here, and they are definitely appearing to be a force to be reckoned with.
Jones: Meh.
You Must Not Know Bout Me
Starring:Prince Pride
Fade to the outside, now that the pre-show is over, the real show begins.
Beep, Beeeeeeeeeeeep.
Here come the small yellow buses, pulling into the loading dock, security knows the deal by now, and Prince Pride knows that his yet to be seen protesters cannot exit the bus and enter the arena, due to the strict and dangerous security FUSE has at it's events.
Pan to a fat 20ish kid, in a yellow shirt that only has enough letters to spell "CURITY", as he picks his nose and doses off as the bus is parked right in front of him.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Those were you people inside, booing your savior Prince Pride as he exits the first bus with a sign in hand that reads, "I hate WRESTLING". Pride wears his usual, b-ball shorts and shoes, a wife beater tank top shirt, and his lion mane like hair pushed behind a headband. Pride walks steadfastly with his sign up to the security guard and clears his throat.
Prince Pride: Ahem!
The security guard continues to sleep.
Prince Pride: [Louder] AHEM!
The security guard startles as he jumps into a ready stance, which doubles as his damn near falling out of his chair. He quickly stands befuddled as Pride stares at him while holding his sign.
Prince Pride: Hello common wrestling fan and local security guard, how goes your life?
Security: [Sleepily] Good...
Prince Pride: [Condescending] Stupendous! My question for you is quite simple, who am I?
Security: [Stumbling] Uhm, crazy?!
Pride bellows out with laughter and he slaps the security guard on the back, the security guard quickly reaches for his mace as Pride holds the sign near his face.
Prince Pride: Easy big fella...I was wondering if you'd seen a whining, somewhat violent, longwinded guy whose being chased by a woman who I am not completely sure if she's an American citizen or someone who once cleaned one of my father's homes...
Pride shrugs.
Prince Pride:...He's an employee here, goes by the name of Paul Cain.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Prince Pride: [Pride looks around perplexed] Anyway, he's my partner tonight which makes us like best friends, if I pricked my finger we'd be blood brothers, or like play cousins. [Pride blinks and bats his eyes] You wouldn't happen to know where his locker room is, now would you?
Security: [Confused] Uh, sir, are you hitting on me?
Prince Pride: [Matter of factly] Is it working?
Security: Not really.
Prince Pride: Well then, NO!
Awkward pause.
Security: [Sighing] Well, in that case yeah, he's down the hall and two doors to the left.
Prince Pride: [Sing song] To the left?
Security: To the left.
Prince Pride: [Singing] Everything you own in the box to the left, cause don't you ever for a second get the thinking, you're IRREPLACEAAAABLLLE...
Pride catches himself as he has once again broken into a female vocalist top 40 hit, and with that he begins to walk towards the entrance.
Prince Pride: Thank you my good man, I'll be sure to remember to hire you as my head libarian when you're out of a job after I've shut down the entire wrestling industry.
Security: [Uncaring] Yeah thanks, and uhm, what was your name again?
Pride pauses and slowly turns his head.
Prince Pride: Pride, Prince Pride...
Pride sneers.
Prince Pride: But you can just call me, Savior!
And with that Pride march's in with his sign, ready for god knows what, humming "Irreplaceable" as he enters the building.
- Standard Match
- Carson Riley
- versus
- Jake Ennis
WE'VE TAKEN OVER THIS TOWN!
The jovial mood in the arena is tarnished as the television screen shows pictures the beginning of the video shown in the arena on the FUSEWire of brawls in the Old West. As the fights are taking place, we are starting to see interspersed images of Wyatt Colton and Jake Ennis as Pantera's "Cowboys From Hell" starts to play.
# OH COME ON! #
The video changes to modern day cops running through the streets during a riot, battles being fought in the Middle East, shaky video of Pantera playing on stage, Wyatt Colton, Jake Ennis and Araceli Negra standing in the desert, stock footage of atomic bomb blasts and fires devastating neighborhoods all firing off and alternating in rapid succession.
# Under the lights where we stand tall #
# Nobody touches us at all #
# Showdown, shootout, spread fear within, without #
# We're gonna take what's ours to have #
# Spread the word throughout the land #
# They say the bad guys wear black #
# We're tagged and can't turn back #
# You see us comin' #
# And you all together run for cover #
SKYE: Making his way to the ring….
# We're takin over this town #
The video keeps playing as the image switches to inside the arena as Jake enters the arena and points at his Fatal Faction Championship Belt.
# Here we come reach for your gun #
# And you better listen well my friend, you see #
# It's been slow down below #
# Aimed at you we're the cowboys from hell #
# Deed is done again, we've won #
# Ain't talking no tall tales friend #
# 'Cause high noon, your doom #
# Comin' for you we're the cowboys from hell #
SKYE: Hailing from Evanston, Wyoming and weighing in tonight at 260 pounds. He is one half of the FUSE Fatal Faction Champions……JAKE ENNIS!
# Pillage the village, trash the scene #
# But better not take it out on me #
# 'Cause a ghost town is found #
# Where your city used to be #
# So out of the darkness and into the light #
# Sparks fly everywhere in sight #
# From my double barrel, 12 gauge, #
# Can't lock me in your cage #
Jake slowly makes his way to the ring during that verse. When he enters the ring, Jake takes off a black and red leather trenchcoat and tosses it over the top as the music cuts out. Jake then takes off his Stetson and hands it to the ring attendant.
Ambrose: Tonight, Jake is flying solo. Araceli and Wyatt are still in the back, he knows that he can take this match on his own.
A director's take board appears on the screen. The top is raised and slams down.
#ACTION!#
"Crashed" by Daughty begins to play throughout the arena as "One Take" Carson Riley walks out to a loud ovation. He is dressed in a pair of black and white wrestling tights with gold trim. The back of the tights say "One Take" in small white letters.
#Well I was moving at the speed of sound#
#Head spinning couldn't find my way around and#
#I didn't know that I was going down#
#Yeah...Yeah#
Carson walks to the right side of the stage and points to the crowd. He walks to the opposite side and does the same. The fans go crazy.
#Where i've been it's all a blur#
#What I was looking for i'm not sure#
#Too late and didn't see it coming#
#Yeah...Yeah#
Carson makes his way to the center of the stage and points to the sky as two huge cannons blast off in correlation with the chorus of the song hitting the speakers. Crowd does insane.
#And then I crashed into you#
#And I went up in flames#
#Could have been the death of me#
#But then you breathed your breath in me#
#And I crashed into you#
#Like a runaway train#
#you will consume me#
#BUT I CANT WALK AWAY!#
Carson makes his way down the aisle and slips under the bottom rope as his music fades.
Ambrose: Here we go, with our final night here in FUSE. Hunter, even as much as you annoy me, it’s been an honor sitting next to you all this time.
Jones: Shove it, Ambrose.
Carson Riley and Jake Ennis lock up in the center of the ring. Ennis uses his height and strength advantage on the smaller Riley to get more leverage and pushes him back into the ropes. Willy Parr gets in there to separate the two men, only to find Carson being hit with a hard left from the Wyoming Cowboy.
Ambrose: A cheap shot from one half of the reigning Fatal Faction champions.
Jones: Anything less would be civilized.
Ennis then pushes the referee out of the way to whip Riley across the ring. Jake then charges in to give Carson a big boot, but Carson slides under the kick and is quick to get back to his feet and take Jake down with a dropkick to the knee.
Ambrose: Jake Ennis is at a minor disadvantage when it comes to the speed department in this match.
Jones: Well, in my opinion, strength always beat speed.
Carson doesn’t waste any time and drops a quick legrdop on the fallen Cowboy from Hell and is quick to go for the cover. Jake Ennis doesn’t give Willy Parr the opportunity to get into position to make the count as he forcefully kicks out. As Jake starts to get up, he gets hit with a hard forearm from the resident of Hollywood, California.
Ambrose: Jake Ennis showing his power, but Carson keeps cutting him off before he has a chance to get some offense in.
Jones: So. All it takes is a moment for Jake to snap off that 12 Guage Lariat.
Carson grabs Jake in a front face lock and brings him back to his feet. He then attempts to hit a snap suplex, but Jake just shoves him off. Jake then hits a big stomp right to Carson’s solar plexus.
Jones: Might makes right.
Jake brings Carson back to his feet, and lifts him like he was a hay bale over his shoulder. Ennis then pulls Carson into a standing inverted belly to belly position. The fans are anticipating a Tombstone, but Jake jumps and falls forward, slamming Riley into the canvas. Jake goes for the cover.
1.
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2.
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Kickout by Carson Riley.
Ambrose: There’s a move that we haven’t seen before. Looked like a reverse Crash Landing.
Jones: We should call it something. Give it a name before we leave this place.
Jake isn’t dismayed by the lack of a pinfall there, as he is quick to bring Carson back to his feet. Jake sends Carson into the corner with a hard Irish Whip, but the athleticism in Carson allowed him to avoid slamming into the turnbuckle as he leapt to the top and comes off, taking Jake down with a twisting cross body block. Carson hooks both of Jake’s legs.
1.
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2.
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Kickout by Jake Ennis.
Ambrose: That was close, Carson Riley nearly picked up a win with that cross body from the top.
Jones: Doesn’t matter. Jake is just going to make him pay.
Jake is back to his feet first, and as soon as Carson is to his feet, Jake charges it. Jake attempts to end it with the 12 Gauge, but One Take ducks it and hits a hard superkick to the Fatal Faction Champion’s jaw as soon as he turns around. Carson is again in there quickly with a cover.
1.
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2.
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Shoulder up by Ennis.
Ambrose: Another near fall, showing that Jake Ennis might just be outmatched by Carson Riley’s speed.
Jones: It’s going to take a lot more than a superkick to keep Jake down. It might take a howitzer.
Jake is slow to get up after the superkick, but as soon as he’s to his feet, he gets taken down with a running bulldog from Riley. Carson wastes no time getting to the top rope. He then signals for the end and comes off with the 450 Splash that he calls the Final Cut.
Ambrose: This could be it.
Unfortunately, Ennis wasn’t stunned enough and rolls out of the way, allowing Carson to crash and burn on the move. Ennis is then quick to bring him back to his feet and set him onto the top turnbuckle. Jake then climbs to the middle turnbuckle and hooks Carson up.
Ambrose: If Ennis hits this, it won’t be good for Riley.
Jones: Like I said….might makes right.
Jake lifts Carson onto the top turnbuckle sets his left foot up top as well. As he brings his right foot to the top, Jake falls backwards, pulling Carson down with a superplex. As soon as they slam onto the mat, Carson and Jake get their legs hooked together. Willy Parr is quickly in their for the pinfall.
1.
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2.
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3!
*DING, DING, DING*
Ambrose: It’s over. But who’s the winner?
As soon as Jake and Carson get untangled, Parr lifts his right arm and points at Carson Riley. The fans explode.
SKYE: THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH………CARSON RILEY!
A look of shock is on Jake Ennis’ face.
Ambrose: Jake Ennis can’t believe that Carson picked up the win tonight.
Jones: Neither can most of the fans.
Riley and Willy Parr are quick to get out of the ring as Jake Ennis gets to his feet. He leans into the corner and just has a look of disbelief.
Ambrose: Jake Ennis just picked up a loss against Carson Riley. Ennis can’t believe that he lost to someone that he thought that he would easily bully in this match.
Jones: I know that if Jake gets his hands on Carson again, that he’s going to attempt to take him apart, piece by piece.
Jake finally rolls out of the ring and starts to head towards the back, still shaking his head.
Featuring…
Starring: The New Guy and Jake Ennis
We head to the back where the as the young man who just recently signed with FUSE who’s name has as of yet been revealed was walking about the backstage area. Instead of the suit and tie that he was wearing last week, this week, he’s wearing a Black and Silver FUSE T-Shirt and Jeans.
He arrives at the wardrobe area where he meets with the ladies that design the costumes for some of the newer FUSE wrestlers that don’t know what they want to wear to the ring.
Wardrobe Lady: Well, if it isn’t the New Guy. How can I help you, young man?
TNG: I’m looking for something for my debut.
Wardrobe: When do you need it?
TNG: I don’t know. I’m thinking something basic, not too flashy. But I definitely don’t want to be in simple black trunks. I want people, when they see my trunks, to go, “Hey, I know that guy. He’s going to be something someday.”
Wardrobe: Maybe a little bit of gold?
TNG: Nah. Maybe a nice maroon.
Wardrobe: I have a great idea. Come back and talk to be in a couple of weeks, and I just might have something that you might like. You want them long or short?
TNG: Whatever you think works best, it doesn’t really matter to me.
Wardrobe: Well, I’ll get started, and in a couple of weeks, I’ll let you judge how I did.
TNG: Thanks.
The new guy walks away from the wardrobe lady, but doesn’t get very far when he bumps into Jake Ennis, still steaming from his loss just moments ago against Carson Riley.
Ennis: Outta my way, kid.
TNG: Sorry, didn’t mean to be in it.
Ennis: Do you realize who I am?
TNG: Actually, no. I just signed last week, and I didn’t get a chance to catch your name.
Ennis: My name is Jake Ennis. And if you don’t watch yourself, you’re going to be in for a world of hurt. Savvy?
TNG: Um, yeah, sure.
Jake Ennis then blows right by the new guy as he just looks back at him.
TNG: Better not mess with him.
FUSE Needs Heroes
Starring: The Rising Sons
Gai: This place needs heroes.
Flash to scene from various Japanese indy feds, of a pair of large men delivering high-impact moves. A charging lariat, nearly folding the victim in half. A charging Yakuza Kick in the corner, as the man's body crumples, nearly lifeless.
Gai: This place needs a breath of humanity and decency.
The tag pair destroy a much smaller man hitting a Dragon Suplex / Superkick Combination.
Gai: This place needs a break from the bullies and sociopaths.
Flash to scenes of the Cowboys From Hell grabbing referees and interviewers by their shirts, pushing officials, and laughing afterwards.
Gai: This place requires help from a land far away.
The silhouettes of two large men are shown in front of a white and red backdrop, the classic Japanese "sunrise" logo.
Gai: This place... needs us.
Gai's face fades as the screen turns to Itachi and Kisame, standing proud in front of their nation's flag.
Gai (offscreen): The Heroes of Japan, the Defenders of the Frail, and FUSE's last hope. The Rising Sons... are here.
This Blood is Our Own, Not Yours
Starring: Mayson Colby and Sean Sterling
The camera cuts to Dr. Rouge's office, where the now well-known psychiatrist sits at her desk, tapping her long nails on the wood as she stares across at the two men who have caused her nothing but problems since she was assigned to watch over them. Mayson Colby and Sean Sterling. They both stood in front of the desk, like two students in a principal's office after a fight. Sterling, with that hideous smirk on his face, a cigarette hanging from between his lips. The portrait of satisfaction. Colby, with disgust in his eyes, peeking over at Sterling occasionally with every bone in his body wanting to punch the so-called Second Coming. There's a long silence as the ceiling fan spins above their heads, until Dr. Rouge speaks up.
Dr. Rouge: Today was scheduled to be a group session between the three of us, in hopes of solving the problems you two have caused since your arrival in FUSE. I knew I couldn't install some sort of peace between you two, but I at least expected to bring this grudge of yours back down from the heights it has climbed to... but Mr. Sterling's display at War in Washington, I don't think a group session is in order here. Do you?
Mayson Colby glances first from Dr. Rouge, to Sean Sterling, before finally lowering his head to stare at the carpet once again. His hands ball into fists and his weight shifts from foot to foot.
Dr. Rouge: Do you have something to say, Mr. Colby? Come on, speak up!
Mayson Colby: Yeah, I do.
Dr. Rouge: Please indulge us. You boys, especially you Mr. Colby, have thus far let your fists do the talking for you. This is unacceptable. Do I need to remind you why I'm here?
Mayson Colby: Fuck why you're here. Fuck this session. I want our match.
Sterling grins, tilting his head downward as he stifles laughter. A look of slight anger crosses Dr. Rouge's face as she begins to speak up, but is quickly cut off by Sterling.
Sean Sterling: Y'know, I'm going to have to side with Colby on this one. Give us our fucking match. Let me rip this fucker's beating heart out of his chest so I can move on already. I've given him more than a couple of warnings and it isn't getting through to him. He's still trying to act tough. If you want our problems to be resolves, give us the match so I can get this cunt out of my business.
Dr. Rouge: Mr. Sterling, allow me to remind you of what will result from your usage of the 'C' wor--
Sean Sterling: Honestly? I could give a fuck less what will result from my usage of anything. I'm not a goddamn preschooler, for fuck's sake.
Dr. Rouge looks shocked, but quickly regains her composure, looking towards Mayson for his response. To her surprise, he looks at Sean before nodding his approval.
Mayson Colby: Don't get me wrong, I guess I appreciate you trying to help but enough is enough. Sterling's taken things too far.
Dr. Rouge: So, you've forgiven Mr. Sterling that easily?
Mayson Colby: Believe me, none of this is easy.
Sean Sterling: I'm going to put this flat out and simple, Rouge. As far as I'm concerned, I have nothing to thank you for. You've just made matters worse. Fact of the matter is, I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want. I don't have to answer to you. I don't have to answer to Colby. I don't have to answer to anyone. In case you missed the memo, I'm the best thing this company has going for it. I'm a god among these bunch of bastards. I have no morals and I'm not subscribing to yours.
Sterling takes a long drag from his cigarette as he looks over to Colby, grinning wide from ear to ear.
Sean Sterling: And I think Colby can vouch for the morals bit, at least.
Colby raises his fist and swings at Sterling. Sterling just stands there and grins as Colby manages to stop himself mere inches from Sterling's cocky smirk.
Sean Sterling: I always knew you were a bitch.
Dr. Rouge: Gentlemen!
Colby shakes his head as he lowers the fist. He mumbles something in the form of an apology to Dr. Rouge before turning and heading for the door.
Mayson Colby: No, I'm just better than that, Sean.
Sean Sterling: Oh yeah, you're real fucking good, Colby. The best, am I right? Couldn't even save your own goddamn family. Go ask Melissa what she thinks of her Uncle Mayson. What a fucking joke. And now look at you, walking away.
Dr. Rouge sits in silence as she realizes this situation is out of control. Sterling turns to her slowly, leaning across the desk, his breath coming out as smoke in her face as he talks just above whispering, his voice sounding even more evil than usual.
Sean Sterling: You don't have to even say what you brought me here to say, Rouge. I'm at serious risk of losing my job, right? One more fuck up, and I'm out of here, is that it? Well, I'm telling you this now, you fucking dumb cunt. Go ahead and fire me. See what happens. I think War in Washington was proof that another person's life holds very little value to me. Yours included. I'm the superior, and you're the inferior, no matter how many diplomas and awards you have hanging on your fall. So go ahead and fire me. Your fucking funeral.
Colby looks disgusted as he glares at Sterling. Swinging open the door, he appears to be leaving but stops as he has second thoughts.
Mayson Colby: One of these days you'll wake up Sean. Wake up and realize you're dirt. You're scum. She's gone, and you killed her. Nothing can fix that. Nothing can bring her back to you. You. Fucked. Up.
Mayson gives a brief nod and wave to Dr. Rouge, before exiting the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Dr. Rouge cocks an eyebrow as Sterling slowly stands up, his face contorting into a sort of frown. Looking up at Sterling, Dr. Rouge tilts her head, obviously a bit nervous of the next words to come out of her mouth. Right then, she was realizing exactly how sick Sterling was. And exactly what he was capable of doing. Needless to say, she was suddenly rather worried about her own safety in situation.
Dr. Rouge: Do you... do you mind if I ask what Mr. Colby means by that, Sean? Who's gone? Who is he talking about?
Sterling seems to stare off into space for a moment before looking down to Dr. Rouge, sneering, his eyes glassy. Those eyes that were usually devoid of any sort of emotion suddenly going back and forth between anger and some sort of sadness that only Sterling could understand.
Sean Sterling: You can consider this my final fucking statement. Put this in my goddamn final evaluation: I may be scum. I may be dirt. I may be the worst person on this fucking planet, but I did not kill her. I want to make that clear. Understand me?
Dr. Rouge: I... I understand, Sean, but I still don't know who you're talking abou--
Sean Sterling: And that's none of your business. I'm warning you now though: Stay out of my way. Keep out of my business. This is between Colby and me. We're not going to resolve this peacefully. If you think we are, you're a bigger idiot than I gave you credit for.
With that, Sterling turned away, tossing his cigarette to the carpet, leaving the room and Dr. Rouge sitting in stunned silence as the scene fades out...
I‘m Sorry
Starring: Lane Stevens, Jeb Stewart, and Artur Marx
Ambrose: Fans, we’ve already seen a lot of action here tonight…and of course there’s so much more left to come.
Jones: Why in just two minutes, I’m going to set one of the tech guys on fire for no reason other than boredom, and a maniacal edge.
Ambrose: Can’t you just say something normal one time?
Jones: How about that local sports team?
Ambrose: Thank you.
Jones: How about that local sports team gangbanging your mom?!? HIYO!
Ambrose: (sigh)
And suddenly, walking from the back, is a man the fans are not familiar with.
Ambrose: Who…whose that?
Jones: I dunno, seems a little familiar though.
Walking to the ring is a man that looks to be built like a wrestler, and the practical rational behind that is he used to be one. He stands about 6’7” and weighs in the neighborhood of 320 pounds. He wears a sky blue suit, and a matching bowler hat. He walks slowly and is very aware of his surroundings, like an animal might be.
Ambrose: Whoever he is…it’s a big boy.
The man’s face is aged; he looks to be in his early to mid forties. He arrives to the ring with little fanfare and grabs a microphone from Skye who surrenders it with no struggle, as she stares up at the large man. He enters the ring and stands in the middle of it.
Ambrose: Well, I wonder what this is about.
Man: Good evening, FUSE. I have been given this time to speak by Commissioner Smitty T Duluth, who thought that what I have to say was pertinent information.
Still not much reaction from the crowd.
Man: My name is Artur Marx, most of you will have no idea who I am, I imagine there are some though, some people that find me oddly familiar, maybe we’ve crossed paths backstage once or twice. Until now my role has been away from the camera, and in a lot of ways, and I say this without ego, I think my role has been more important than many of those on camera. I will start out by saying I did a lot of sick things to get my protégé into this federation. His name is Lane Stevens.
And the crowd reacts, booing vigorously at the mention of The River Rat.
Artur Marx: I did a lot of sick things to mold him, to shape him, and eventually convince him to follow the lead of Clinton Sage…to start this…Affliction.
Ambrose: That’s not going to make him the most popular man in town.
He speaks slowly, and concise.
Artur Marx: And still, months and months after its formation, I have done sick things still. I have helped Clinton Sage ruin Mr. Duluth’s sanity; I have helped devise plans to cripple FUSE wrestlers. I wrote a lot of checks that ruined a lot of men. This group has grown beyond my control, and I realize what a fool I was to ever think I could control such a thing for the sake of good. I never meant to hurt anyone; it was only my goal that out of the hell that The Affliction brought upon this federation everyone would come out stronger. It was my thought that I was doing a service to the people, as real heroes can only be made out of times of tragedy. It has taken quite a bit of therapy for me to figure out that this is not right. To figure out that this, in fact…is insane. I am taking a lot of medication now, and it has helped me come to grips with the kind of man I was.
I don’t expect anyone to believe me, but I say with great sincerity that I have every regret in the world for what I have done. Lane Stevens was just a kid when I found him, naïve about the wrestling business, naïve about the business of life, and I twisted him. I made him so hungry to ruin people, so very hungry. I’m sorry to you more than anything Lane, even though I know you do not understand that.
Jones: Don’t apologize to Lane, he’s perfect!
Artur Marx: I am here to pass on a message to The Highwaymen, and the rest of FUSE as a whole. Please erase my mistake, erase this Affliction. I would do it myself, but I have become older than I ever imagined being. My knees are shot, and perhaps so is my courage. Good luck FUSE, I will be watchi…
And suddenly, Artur is cut off by a voice near the entranceway.
“That suit is gayer than a hundred faggots on a faggot boat.”
BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
The River Rat, Lane Stevens, stands about a fourth of the way down the aisle…mic in hand. He is flanked by The Affliction’s enforcer, Jeb Stewart.
Lane Stevens: I was wondering when you were going to show your face on TV, although I didn’t quite think it would be this sappy. Or maybe this is some kind of swerve and I just didn’t get the memo. Jeb, did you get the memo that the sick son of a bitch that started this whole thing was turning into some kind of an apologetic Oprah sob story twat?
Jeb, with a solemn face, shakes his head no. The two men begin to advance upon the ring.
Ambrose: Well, this could get messy.
Lane Stevens: Truth be told, we don’t need you anymore anyway. The Scourge finances our little operation now, and I can assure you…his checkbook is just as deep as yours is my rich old buddy.
The Two Affliction members reach the ring. Jeb walks up the ring steps, followed by Lane. Jeb steps over the top-rope and is immediately glaring at Artur. Stevens climbs the top rope, only to sit down on the top turnbuckle with the giant standing in front of him. Lane still holds a microphone to his lips.
Lane Stevens: So, the question stands…what do we do with you now?
Artur Marx: (matter of fact) I’m sure there is violence involved.
And with that, Jeb takes two steps forward. Lane is still sitting on the top turnbuckle.
Lane Stevens: Yeah, that was a good guess.
As Jeb approaches Artur’s eyes grow sad.
Artur Marx: Oh, Jeb. He is shaping you just like I shaped him. I have no intentions of resisting. This is my bed, and as the saying goes, I must lie…
Before Artur can even finish Jeb Stewart lunges, grabbing Artur around the throat with two hands. There is fire in Jeb Stewart’s eyes as he lifts up the man in the light blue suit with a choke lift sit down powerbomb that shakes the ring.
Ambrose: MY GOODNESS! JEB JUST PICKED UP THIS BIG MAN AS IF HE WAS GROCERIES!
Artur rolls around on the ground in agony, it has been some time since he has taken physical abuse in a wrestling ring. Jeb picks him up a few moments later, and puts him over his shoulder, and grabs onto Artur’s legs. Artur hits the mat hard again.
Ambrose: THE TRAGIC FARMING ACCIDENT! I don’t think there is a man that gives a better spine buster in our sport right now, Hunter.
Jones: Maybe so, but he’s no match for me in chutes and ladders.
All the while, Lane Stevens casually gets off that top turnbuckle and goes to the floor where he wrestles the ring bell away from the timekeeper.
Ambrose: No one in FUSE has used this weapon as prolifically as Lane Stevens has over the last 10 months…that much is certain.
Jones: There’s no one in the back who has any interest in saving this man, by the looks of it, not even the Highwaymen.
Ambrose: Well, can you blame them?
Jones: Not really.
Lane casually tosses the ring bell into the ring, it makes a clang noise upon hitting the mat. He rolls under the bottom rope, and promptly grabs the bell. Artur sits up, and simply stares at Lane, and this seems to weird The River Rat out a bit, as he takes a step back. He holds the microphone to his lips.
Lane Stevens: The Scourge was right…you are weak.
Then Stevens lunges.
THUNK.
Ambrose: What a disgusting shot to the face with that ring bell!
In a few moments, Artur simply sits up again, and stares at Lane. Blood is running down his face.
THUNK
Ambrose: AND AGAIN! JESUS CHRIST!
And once again, Artur Marx sits up and looks at Lane. His face is a mess. He looks very disoriented now, he aimlessly reaches out with his hands, and sooner or later finds the microphone he dropped.
Artur Marx: There are a lot of people here that would like to know…Affliction secrets…
THUNK
Ambrose: DAMN HIM! STEVENS DOES NOT SEEM INTENT ON STOPPING THIS ASSAULT!
This time, Artur does not pop back up. At this point EMT’s are on their way to the ring, in mass, and members of the Kohl Center’s security force. The River Rat holds his hands up in the air, as if he did nothing. He pats Jeb Stewart on the back.
Jones: Well, here come the party poopers.
Ambrose: What a sick scene this is, some dirty Affliction laundry being aired right now…fans we’re gonna have to take a break…
Direct Orders
Starring: Jason Cruise and Smitty T. Duluth
The office of Smitty T. Duluth.
The initials STD are hard, scored into the door that has undoubtedly seen better days. The door is part of the way open, and that's enough for our nosy cameraman to poke his lens into the picture.
Duluth sits behind a large desk with a framed inspirational print behind him. His hands are pleasantly folded on top of his desk as he gingerly leans forward, his eyes fixated on the figure standing in front of him.
The new Livewire Champion, Jason Cruise.
Duluth: You've done well for yourself, Jason.
Jason nods, his eyes briefly making contact with the title slung over his shoulder.
Cruise: I can't complain.
Duluth: I would think not. A new title, a new group, things seem to be falling into place for you here. I wasn't sure if that would be the case when you first came here. I had my doubts.
Cruise: That'd make two of us, but I think I've started to put those to rest.
Duluth: Possibly. It's amazing how much things can change with one simple decision. Like having the right people around you.
Jason's attention begins to grow.
Cruise: Yeah, I suppose so.
Duluth: Like for instance inviting a certain someone to Washington. You do know that the backstage area is off limits to friends and family during the show.
Cruise: I can explain.
Duluth: Don't. Marie, she's your girlfriend?
Jason hesitates for a moment.
Cruise: She's...
Duluth: I guess that's not important. What I'm getting at is that I'd like to see her in your corner, Jason. I think it'd be a good career move.
The Prophecy's eyes widen, this he wasn't expecting.
Cruise: I'm not sure if that's a good idea.
Duluth: Are you questioning my decision, Jason?
Cruise: No, I just don't think I'm comfortable with her at ringside.
Duluth: Well, I could always place her in the corner of someone else. I hear John Covel is shopping for a face lift.
Cruise: No, that's not neccessary.
Duluth: So we're agreed then. Starting next week Marie will be in your corner.
Jason lets out a deep exhale, standing there silently as Smitty T. Duluth rises from his chair.
Duluth: I imagine you have some matters to attend too, you're excused.
Jason begins walking towards the door.
Duluth: Oh, and Jason.
His head turns over his shoulder towards Duluth.
Duluth: Tell Marie to do something about her name. Marie is so.... old sounding.
The screen dissolves.
- Standard Match
- Wyatt Colton
- versus
- Kid Cool
‘Don’t Stop me now’ hits the FUSEwire!
SKYE: our next match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Boston, Mass, he weighs in at 207 pounds, Kid Cool!
Kid Cool emerges from the back and makes his way towards the ring.
Ambrose: And here comes cowardice personified.
Jones: Cowardice? Didn’t you see the tower last week?
Ambrose: Yeah, he was second out wasn’t he?
Jones: He wasn’t last.
Kid Cool looks anxious, and for a good reason considering the music that hits next.
“We’re taking over this town”
SKYE: And his opponent, from Calgary, Alberta, Canada, weighing in at
WE'VE TAKEN OVER THIS TOWN!
*FOOM*
*FOOM*
*FOOM*
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v499/JJMadeMeDoIt/CFH.png
The jovial mood in the arena is tarnished as the television screen shows pictures the beginning of the video shown in the arena on the FUSEWire of brawls in the Old West. As the fights are taking place, we are starting to see interspersed images of Wyatt Colton and Jake Ennis as Pantera's "Cowboys From Hell" starts to play.
# OH COME ON! #
The video changes to modern day cops running through the streets during a riot, battles being fought in the Middle East, shaky video of Pantera playing on stage, Wyatt Colton, Jake Ennis and Araceli Negra standing in the desert, stock footage of atomic bomb blasts and fires devastating neighborhoods all firing off and alternating in rapid succession.
# Under the lights where we stand tall #
# Nobody touches us at all #
# Showdown, shootout, spread fear within, without #
# We're gonna take what's ours to have #
# Spread the word throughout the land #
# They say the bad guys wear black #
# We're tagged and can't turn back #
# You see us comin' #
# And you all together run for cover #
SKYE: Making his way to the ring!
# We're takin over this town #
The video keeps playing as the image switches to inside the arena as Araceli enters the arena, followed by Jake and Wyatt, who stand to the sides and points to the brand new FUSE World Fatal Faction Championship Belts.
# Here we come reach for your gun #
# And you better listen well my friend, you see #
# It's been slow down below #
# Aimed at you we're the cowboys from hell #
# Deed is done again, we've won #
# Ain't talking no tall tales friend #
# 'Cause high noon, your doom #
# Comin' for you we're the cowboys from hell #
SKYE: Weighing in at 245 pounds, from Calgary, Alberta, Canada, one half of the FUSE Fatal Faction champions, ‘The Canadian Cowboy’ Wyatt Colton!
# Pillage the village, trash the scene #
# But better not take it out on me #
# 'Cause a ghost town is found #
# Where your city used to be #
# So out of the darkness and into the light #
# Sparks fly everywhere in sight #
# From my double barrel, 12 gauge, #
# Can't lock me in your cage #
Jones: And here comes one of the hard hitting tag team champs now.
Ambrose: Colton and Ennis managed to defeat the Rising Sons at War in Washington, but seem to be thoroughly pissed at the fact the match was never aired.
Jones: And they’ve been very vocal about that over on the FUSE website.
Colton, rolls into a now empty ring. Kid Cool has already started trying to high tail it out of the arena. He walks slowly around the perimeter of the ring shaking his head and mouthing “no way, not going to happen”.
Ambrose: This kid pissed me off so much. If he doesn’t want to fight why is he here in FUSE?
Jones: Because he can fight, just not after he was in one of the most brutal matches in FUSE history. You seem to forget he made it to the finals of the Custom Chaos title tournament not long back.
Colton simply stands in the middle of the ring watching Kid Cool circle the ring and make his way back to the curtain. Kid Cool turns his back on his opponent and started walking quickly towards the curtain to a chorus of boos, but just before he make it to the back he’s knocked to the floor by ‘The Canadian cowboy’.
Jones: Colton’s here to fight.
Ambrose: Kid Cool obviously isn’t.
Colton peels Kid Cool up off of the concrete and pushes him back towards the ring. Kid Cool stumbles forwards and tries to take off over the barrier and into the crowd. Wyatt however is able to grab the back of his tights and pulls him back into the entrance way. Colton grabs Kid Cool by the hair and drags him back towards the ring.
Ambrose: No subtleties from Colton there.
Jones: He wants to hurt someone tonight.
Ambrose: And Kid Cool is the unfortunate individual that pertains to.
Colton continues to drag a kicking and screaming Kid Cool back to the ring, well that is it until Kid Cool manages to work Colton’s hand into his mouth and bites down. Wyatt releases his grip on Kid Cool giving him the opportunity to sprint off around the ring. Wyatt gives chase and rounds two turnbuckles before both men roll into the ring.
*Ding Ding Ding!*
Kid Cool is able to get to his feet before the Cowboy and lays a couple of boots into him before he can get to all fours. Kid Cool drops to his knees and starts laying into Wyatt with rights, lefts, forearms and axe handles. Nothing though can keep Wyatt down as he fends off the onslaught and gets to his feet. He blocks a right hand from Cool and lands one of his own sending Kid Cool back into the middle of the ring. Wyatt charges looking to hit a clothesline But Kid Cool ducks it. He hits the ropes on the other side of the ring and heads back to Wyatt. Kid Cool ducks a leap frog from Colton but gets caught off guard with a monkey flip as he comes back. Kid Cool sails through the air landing right next to the ropes and almost getting folded in two.
Ambrose: Quick action from these two superstars to start this match off.
Jones: Neither seem to be showing too many signs of damage from the tower but it’s early days yet, all Cool needs to do is hit one big move and it could bring Colton down.
Kid Cool doesn’t have time to regroup as Colton pulls him up by the hair. Referee Willy Parr warns Colton about pulling the hair but he doesn’t take a blind bit of notice. Wyatt pushes Kid Cool into the corner of the ring and levels him with a right hand followed by a couple of elbows to the temple. Wyatt lifts a knee up into the mid section of KC before whipping him across the ring and following him in. Kid Cool puts on the breaks and springs up catching Wyatt in a head scissor. Wyatt fights it and throws Kid Cool off of him over the top ropes. KC is able to land with both feet on the apron and shoulder barges Colton in the midsection. Wyatt doubles over allowing Kid Cool to slingshot into the ring. He rolls over the back of Colton and runs at the ropes on the other side. He comes back but gets caught in a massive black hole slam by Colton. Wyatt goes for the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
Kid Cool gets a shoulder up!
Ambrose: Near fall for the Cowboy there.
Jones: But you see my point? KC knows how to fight.
Ambrose: He’s just a wuss?
Jones: I never said anything of the sort.
Colton is the first to his feet but is soon followed by his opponent. As Colton advances on Kid Cool though KC drops to his knees as if he’s begging for Wyatt to leave him be. Wyatt shows no remorse though and pulls back for a right hand. Kid Cool spots his opportunity and pushes a thumb up into the right eye of Colton. Wyatt grimaces as he grasps his face giving Kid Cool enough time to stand up and drive a boot into the midsection of his opponent. A swift DDT later and Kid Cool is now looking for the pinfall victory!
ONE!
TWO!
Colton kicks out just after two.
Kid Cool is back up to his feet but Colton is still down on the mat clutching at his eye. KC spots yet another opening and stamps down of the head, shoulders and arms of Colton so quickly that the Cowboy has no chance to block. KC hits the ropes and comes back delivering a stuff dropkick to the shoulders of the downed Colton.
Ambrose: Kid Cool is looking slightly desperate here.
Jones: Desperate? He’s looking in control!
Ambrose: The only reason he’s on top is though cheating!
Jones: He’s an opportunist! He spotted an opening and he went for it. You’re not going to tell me Colton would do any differently.
Ambrose: I suppose you have a point.
Jones: Damn straight I do.
Kid Cool continues the onslaught of blows to the Cowboy before grabbing him by the hair and pulling him to his feet. Wyatt tries to fight back but his efforts are quickly snuffed out with an elbow across the shoulder blades. Kid Cool pushes Wyatt back into the ropes and tries to tie his arms up. Colton fights off KC with a couple of kicks and manages to knock him back into the middle of the ring. Colton comes in looking for a shoulder block but KC takes him over with a hip toss. Kid Cool looks to drop an elbow on the Cowboy but finds nothing but canvas. Colton rolls to the ropes and pulls himself up quickly as KC gets back to his own feet. Kid Cool charges at Colton who pulls the top rope down, low bridging KC. Cool tumbles down to the outside of the ring leaving Colton alone in the ring to catch his breath.
Ambrose: Kid Cool taking one hell of a tumble there, and the referee is warning Colton about it, and rightly so.
Jones: Kid Cool fell out of the ring, there’s not much Wyatt could do about that.
Ambrose: He could have not low bridged him…
Jones: Shoulda woulda coulda.
Kid Cool holds his back and he pulls himself up with the aid of the ring apron as Colton measures him. As soon as KC is upright Wyatt leaps over the top rope with a slingshot suicide dive. He takes Kid Cool back down to the floor as the fans rise to their feet in applause.
Ambrose: The fans don’t like this guy but they quite clearly appreciate what he’s willing to do to entertain them.
Jones: He should be more focused on keeping Kid Cool down that playing up to these morons.
Colton is up to his feet quickly and pulls Kid Cool with him. He smacks KC’s head into the ring apron before pushing him back into the ring and laying his head over the edge of the apron. Colton drives a couple of elbows into the chest of his opponent before jumping up on the apron and dropping a leg down across the throat of Kid Cool. Kid Cool manages to find enough time to roll into the ring as Wyatt climbs back in but gets caught as he lays on the mat trying to catch his breath. Wyatt pulls Kid Cool up to his feet and pushes him back towards the corner. Colton lays into KC with a couple of rights and lefts before lifting him into a seated position. He follows Kid Cool up and looks set to drive him down to the mat with a superplex. Kid Cool though manages to find enough to land two rights to the midsection of the cowboy and pushes him back from the middle rope. Colton hits the mat hard and grips the back of his head, this gives Kid Cool enough time to climb up to the top rope and leap off. He lands an elbow drop right into the heart of Colton.
He goes for the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
Wyatt kicks out!
Ambrose: Another near fall, but this time it’s surprisingly in favour of Kid Cool. Colton seems to have been dominant in this one so far.
Jones: Kid Cool’s had his moments, but yeah, Wyatt has been fairly dominant throughout this one.
Kid Cool and Wyatt both get back up to their feet at relatively the same pace. Colton swings, looking for a left hook but Kid Cool ducks it and takes Wyatt down with a single leg sweep. He grabs hold of the leg of the cowboy and runs forward, jarring his knee as he pulls his entire leg towards his head. Colton grasps at his knee and thigh as Kid Cool stomps down on the knee joint.
Jones: Kid Cool seems to have decided he’s going for that left leg of the cowboy.
Ambrose: Not a bad tactic for such a coward.
Jones: I’m not telling you again.
KC pins down the leg of Colton and drives his own knee down into that of his opponent. Kid Cool pulls Colton up to his feet and whips him to the ropes. Wyatt comes back into a back body drop by KC who follows up with a harsh kick to the spine. Colton tries to get back to his feet but Kid Cool lines up the cowboy and delivers a boot to the side of his head. Kid Cool goes for a quick cover!
ONE!
TWO!
Colton kicks out again.
Colton pushes Kid Cool away from him but it doesn’t last for long as KC grabs the hair of his opponent and pulls him up to his feet. Kid Cool scoops up the cowboy and slams him down to the mat with a body slam. He signals to the crowd that he’s about to end this thing as he sits Colton up. Kid Cool delivers a cross between a stomp and a dropkick to the back of Colton’s head. The cowboy slumps forward allowing Kid Cool to easily peel him from the ground and set him in position for a dragon sleeper. Kid Cool twists and drives Colton’s head into the mat with a neck breaker come cutter. He goes for the cover instantly!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Ambrose: WYATT ISN’T GIVING IN!
Jones: Kid Cool got so close there but the toughness of the cowboy is showing through!
Kid Cool can’t believe that Colton was able to kick out and argues with the referee about the count. Not the smartest thing to do as Colton has plenty of time to catch his breath. Also with Kid Cool’s back turned it gives the cowboy the perfect opportunity to roll up KC in a school boy! He gets a handful of tights for good measure!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Kid Cool kicks out!
Ambrose: And Colton can’t even cheat his way to victory.
Jones: Cheat? Where? How? That’s slander!
Ambrose: I’m sure I’ve got a fair argument with plenty of evidence!
Kid Cool it the first to his feet closely followed by Colton. They exchange right hands until Colton nails Kid Cool with a shot that sends him reeling into the corner. Colton follows Kid Cool in with a clothesline and then sends him across the ring with an Irish whip. Kid Cool stumbles out of the corner into a massive tilt-a-whirl backbreaker from the cowboy!
Jones: Calgary Stampede!
Ambrose: And that can only mean one thing!
Colton signals to the crowd that he’s going to end this thing right now and goes to lock the Cowboy Clutch in on KC. The only problem is that Kid Cool is nowhere to be found. A quick survey of the ringside reveals that Kid Cool managed to find time to crawl to the outside of the ring and start heading up the aisle to the backstage area. Wyatt Colton isn’t having any of it though and chases after him.
Jones: Where the hell are they going?
Ambrose: Well it looks to me like Kid Cool is getting out of dodge, but Colton is trying to put him right back in.
Colton manages to catch up with Kid Cool and clotheslines him from behind knocking him to the ground. Kid Cool doesn’t stop in his attempt to run though and continues crawling towards the back. Colton places a boot on the spine of his opponent and pushes him down to the floor before climbing on and locking in a Cowboy clutch half way down the aisle!
Jones: I can hear Kid Cool screaming from here!
Ambrose: And I can hear the ref’s count getting closer to 10!
Colton wrenches back on the Cowboy Clutch so much that he forgets everything that’s going on around him. Slowly but surely the referee’s count gets to 10.
*Ding Ding Ding*
Jones: Oh come on! A double countout?
Ambrose: It’s a shame it had to end like that. It really is.
Despondent
Starring: El Diablo and ???
The scene cuts backstage onto the former LiveWire Champion, El Diablo.
Arena Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOO!
Looking very downbeat, The Creator of Controversy runs a hand through his long black hair.
El Diablo: I’m glad you’re here.
The Mexican Devil is sitting down in his locker room, talking to someone, only the camera remains focused on El Diablo.
El Diablo: I’ve needed you. You were gone for such a long time, but I’m pleased you’re here now. I need your help.
Zooming in, the camera goes for a close up of The Mexican Devil. The dark stubble and big black bags under his eyes dominate his face, but as the camera continues to zoom in, it focuses on his green eyes where the sparkle he used to have in them appears to be gone.
El Diablo: I don’t think I can beat him. I gave him everything I had and I lost. What can I do to defeat a man who refuses to lose? I really need your advice. I felt like I was reaching my full potential and he just pulled out the rug from underneath me. I tried in vain to get my revenge on him in the Tower Match and I partly succeeded, only I eliminated myself in the process and afterwards when we went toe-to-toe after The Highwaymen had formed he got the best of me again.
Blinking, The Master of Manipulation runs a hand down his face as the camera begins to zoom out.
El Diablo: I even tried the mind games and he outdid me on that. What more could I have done?
The camera zooms out to a full body shot of The Mexican Devil, who is wearing his black Affliction t-shirt and black denim jeans.
El Diablo: I’ve been in the ring with the best and I’ve defeated most of them, but I can’t seem to beat Jason Cruise.
The crowd in the arena cheer when they hear the new LiveWire Champion’s name.
El Diablo: I need to understand what makes him unbeatable. I do not lose to people twice, yet here I am sitting down pondering what I can do to get my LiveWire Title back. It’s MY TITLE! Without it I feel so alone. I hate being alone.
Sighing as he gets more emotional, El Diablo doesn’t look like the man FUSE has come to know. He looks fatigued and lacking motivation.
El Diablo: Maybe I’ve lost focus, but I couldn’t have done anything more. I need you to tell me what to do, I need your wisdom, you were the greatest wrestler I have ever known. I just have to know what I can possibly do to win, I can’’t bear to lose to him again, I can’t bear being without my LiveWire Championship.
The camera zooms back in, onto the face of The Creator of Controversy, as tears starts to roll down his cheeks.
El Diablo: STOP FILMING, I, I, I NEED A BREAK!
With that said the camera feed cuts away and onto the next segment.
HYPE VIDEO
Starring: Seymour Almasy
Hey, Dickhead!
Starring: Aimz, Lane Stevens, and with guest appearances by The Highwaymen
Typically, Lane Stevens gets what he wants.
He is what Webster's dictionary would define as "spoiled". When Lane Stevens wants coffee, Lane Stevens gets coffee. His new agent, Bridgette Masters, will back that up. They are walking down a halfway backstage, the former dressed in and old Legacy tee, while the latter is dressed in a pants suit, her long black hair held up in a bun by a pencil.
Lane Stevens: So why can't they do the little River Rat plush dolls again?
Bridgette Masters: Well, some focus groups were done…and the little kids keep ripping the heads off.
Lane Stevens: (thoughtful) Bummer.
They round a corner, and a realization sets in that does not please Mr. Stevens. Unfortunately, the most direct line to caffeine within range is the community catering room, where a dozen FUSE wrestlers are lounging and dining at any given time.
The coffee is supposed to help ease his headache, but after a few steps into the room it's obvious that it's only going to get worse. Away from the tables in the room, propped up against a wall with a laptop on her knees is a redhead he's not fond of seeing without blood coming out of her ears. To make matters worse, she recently decided to try making friends, and a quick glance around the room reveals that they're sitting not six feet away from her.
At first, it seems like he and Miss Masters might be able to make a break for it without the little red parasite noticing and crawling under his skin - but halfway through pouring his extra large cream with two sugars, Lane sees the redhead's two-toned eyes break from what must be furious myspace/facebooking. Her fingers stop their pitter-patter across the keyboard, and she smirks. He knows that he needs to make the first blow in this bout.
Lane Stevens: So...
He chuckles, anticipating his perfect opening shot.
Lane Stevens: How's your wife enjoying bedrest? The back injury must make a great excuse to watch his stories instead of tidying up the house.
Her first move is a well-timed eye-roll.
Aimz: Yeah, I get it, you injured my husband and he's got a girl name. And while it's a pretty big piss-off that you kinked his back, it doesn't change the fact that I've now got an army looking out for mine. If you listened to what I had to say earlier, you'd know that you're just the first asshole who happened to cross my path at the time, now you're gonna get hell, and that playing with who you do isn't gonna get you out of dodge. You might be able to cheap-shot Darcy, but you can't do the same to five of us at once - it doesn't matter how dirty you play.
Lane looks around the room again, gesturing specifically to Jason Cruise, who's sitting near Rhine and Raynes. He keeps speaking to Amy while pointing one by one at her allies.
Lane Stevens: Oh, that's adorable. You think these guys want you on their side because you're legit backup? Even you aren't that niave. You know that you're here for ONE reason, Campbell - selling t-shirts to the little girls whose parents drag them to these shows.
Aimz roll her eyes.
Lane Stevens: If they wanted talent, they would've cherry-picked from the Affliction reject pile. But even our garbage wasn't good enough for them, so they went lower on the ladder and there you were. You're not their friend. You're not their team mate. You're not their equal. You're their marketing niche. That's all you've ever been, Amy... for all the years I've known your name.
Aimz: You just don't know when to can it, do you?
Stevens points again to the group, who're slowly rising to come to the redhead's aid.
Lane Stevens: See? They're gonna try to tell me I'm wrong. They'll tell you you're valuable. They want to put a gold star sticker on your nose.
Cyurs Raynes: I've heard about enough...
When Cyrus scuffs ahead of the pack of men getting ready to corner Lane, Amy shakes her head and waves them off.
Aimz: Come on, guys - even this guy isn't dumb enough to try something right now. But Lane, what's with all the talk? Seems like I touched a soft spot without even realizing it... or are you just now figuring out that 'being bad' and tagging along behind a champion is pointless once your opposition rises to render you irrelevant?
She lays her laptop on the concrete floor and stands up, scuffling toward Lane. At 5'5", Aimz has to look up to catch Stevens' eye contact, but that doesn't put off her confidence.
Aimz: You don't run this shit anymore. Does that sting?
Lane lowers his head, forehead almost touching hers. His tone is chilling, despite Aimz' best efforts to brush it off.
Lane Stevens: For years, I've been sick of turning on the TV and seeing your face. I turn on my computer, and there's some zit-faced fucking kids talking about pictures of Aimz. You've never even been on the front page, you're just the little piss-off wandering around in the background. You're like a shitty FM radio song that randomly pops up when you least wanna hear it. We already took out your husband, do you think we stop there? Suddenly having a crew of jackasses behind you won't help. You think I won't make sure that each and every one of them is out of the way, too? Being as nice as you can possibly try fooling people into thinking you are won't help you either, because your past will speak for you.
As Aimz scoffs and tries acting unaffected by the deep-rooted rant, he sneers.
Lane Stevens: You know what you are? You're exactly what you were in NTICW, in OSW, in fWo... you're the token punk jobber who isn't quite bright enough to know when to give up. You and I both know exactly who and what you are. And I DO…RUN…SHIT red... so listen to every word; when the dust clears, your career will be over. There's no more Little Jobber Who Could. And if I can't beat you out the door, I've got plenty of other tricks up my sleeve... so make sure to show up next week, 'cause I've got a surprise. When all's said and done, I'm gonna do what no federation, wrestler or rumor ever could and rid this business of its most annoying insect.
After Lane's grave words, he turns tail and walks away. He's had enough of dealing with the redhead for one day. But the peak of his frustration is the same moment that the unfamilliar woman who'd been standing beside him in a suit steps forward and gets right in Aimz' face, smiling politely.
Bridgette Masters: You would be wrong to doubt my client's resolve. Seeya 'round.
With that, Stevens' agent scurries after him. Amy growls to herself, but decides not to shout after them. Instead, she faces the camera and speaks into the future.
Aimz: Riiiight.
Amy shakes her head and raises an eyebrow.
Aimz: ANYHOO... hey buddy, you think your talk scares me? I know you're gonna watch the tape of this show because you absolutely can't resist the sound of your own voice. So listen up, Laney - You're not the first to try 'ending my career', and I'm sure you won't be the last to fail. I'm getting tired of playing with you, it's just the same bullshit... and you still haven't told me why, aside from pure intimidation, you keep coming back for more. So what's your next big move, Lane? Just gonna call me a pair of worthless tits, or do you feel a little creative... maybe attack me from behind? Whatever you've got in store at the next show, bring it. I've now got the strength of mind to smile right through it.
Jonathan Rhine stands up from the table where he's been eating with Jason Cruise and Cyrus Raynes, patting his team mate on her back.
Rhine: Hear that, boys? Enjoy your last few weeks on top of the world, because the days of the big, bad Affliction running unchallenged are over.
Aimz grins.
Aimz: You can try cheap-shotting us individually, but your bullshit doesn't fly with five at a time.
Just before the camera fades, it catches something that no member of The Highwaymen would've wanted it to see. Aimz and Rhine turn back to their team mates, and Aimz shivers.
Aimz: That guy's really starting to creep me out.
Friendly Recommendation
Starring: Paul Cain and Damien Kahn
We come up to the locker room of Paul Cain, who is walking up and down generally looking busy in his black suit with red shirt, very suave. He runs one hand through his hair as he snatches up some paperwork from the table in front of him. To the left, perched on the edge of the leather sofa is Damien Kahn in dark green cargo pants and black sleeveless T-shirt. He appears to be seething as Cain ignores him in favour of the work in front of him.
Damien Kahn: Are you out of your goddamn mind?!
For a moment, Cain ignores the accusation aimed at him as he taps his chin thoughtfully with his forefinger.
Paul Cain [under his breath]: That could definitely work.
Cheeks expanding, Damien puffs out a breath of air in complete disbelief and shakes his head.
Damien Kahn: You’re REALLY going through with this aren’t you?
Paul Cain [again under his breath]: Spin around, thank the people, welcome them to the Bar. Yep, that’ll be right on the money.
Standing swiftly to his full height, Damien yells in the ear of his friend.
Damien Kahn: Are you absolutely goddamn, motherfucking, crazy man?!
Paul sighs heavily and puts the paper down to the side of him with a sad expression.
Paul Cain: I thought you of all people would be happy to see me doing this. It’ll be like old times, me running The Bar again.
Damien doesn’t take his eyes off Paul for a moment and bites his top lip hard.
Damien: That’s not the history I’ve got a problem with and you KNOW it.
Nodding his head knowingly, Paul throws the paper down and taps the side of his head with one finger.
Paul Cain: Ahhh, NOW I get it. Recap D-Money. Four years ago, I got you the best damn lawyer going so I could get you out of that little ‘situation’ you were in, remember that? I had faith that you would watch my back, that you were capable of being the insurance policy to keep me out of harms way when things got outta control. I’d heard good things about you, well…Maybe not ‘good’ things, but things that made me confident in investing in you. I put up that cash and we got you out and from that point on, you and me were soldiers together. To hell with the bitches and the flashy bullshit, we took care of business, you got your career and we tore up the place. That all started because I had faith in you, you weren’t just another young black man in lockdown, you were someone I knew would be there to the end. So, tell me something, if I had that faith in you, why can’t you have that faith in me?
Damien Kahn shakes his head vehemently, in protest.
Damien Kahn: It can’t be done, not like this man! She’ll destroy you!
A look of determination is on Paul Cain’s face as he takes a deep breath and gently exhales.
Paul Cain: In that case, I’ll just have to destroy her first. Won’t I?
With that, Paul Cain turns and breezes out of the locker room leaving Damien looking both disappointed and concerned.
The Good Stuff
Starring:Ethan Frost
Backstage, the usual rambling are going on, corridors full of reporters being followed by cameramen trying to get the latest scoop, the latest smidgeon of gossip that would propel them into the spotlight, the equivalent of being the Clinton Sage of reporting.
Wrestlers were pacing up and down corridors themselves looking for the reporters who were looking for the scoops, it was a constant circle where screen time meant more high profile matches, the possibility of being thrust forwards towards the main event and the chance to be beaten by Clinton Sage.
One of the few men who had beaten Clinton Sage, was sat silently in his dressing room alone, a room he had previously shared with Fred Fusion and his insane ramblings, now though he was sat on his own in a mixture of silence and a clock ticking.
Despite the numerous new faces that kept showing up, a number of the superseding him, overtaking him. For Frost, tonight felt like business as usual, just like old times it was simply a case of Frost vs. The Affliction.
The Legacy.
Lane Stevens.
Even Clinton Sage had all fallen to him, tonight Jeb Stewart was just another name to mark off the list.
*knock knock knock*
The knocking on the door had been repeated a number of times now, Frost had been staring at the door a few times contemplating opening it, he hadn’t got round to it however, he had simply chosen to remain deathly silent as the voice on the other side of the door repeatedly called out to him.
Voice: Ethan. Your match is in five minutes! Get out here now!
Ethan didn’t respond, he had never really responded to demands before, it just wasn’t his style he did what he wanted when he wanted, but he had looked at the time and it was getting on a bit now.
Frost: Alright, alright I’ll be out in a minute don’t worry.
Voice: Just don’t miss the music!
Frost: I won’t now leave me alone you’re distracting my pre-match build up.
Voice: Right ok, sorry.
The voice on the other side of the door subsided and eventually Frost heard the footsteps echo away. He waited until the room fell totally silent, the steps stopped echoing and once again it was the only his heartbeat and the ticking of the clock as he reached to his side and picked up the knife that was positioned on the side of his chair.
He was sat with his wrestling tights around his ankles in just a pair of boxer shorts as he stared down at his thighs, the extent of his self abuse now apparent. A large number of wounds some open, some barely healed on his legs was the sight that beheld him.
Frost: It’s this or the drugs, this or the drugs….this…
As his voice trails off he plunges the knife blade into his leg and pulls the blade back up towards his hip, blood seeping out of the wound and trickling down his leg onto the chair. A look of relief takes over Frost’s face as his eyes roll back into his head and allows himself to slump down in the chair, pulling the blade out and tossing it across the room.
Frost: Now. THAT! Is the good stuff.
The blood continues to flow as Frost begins to bandage up his leg, pulling tightly on the tourniquet to stop the blood flow. He allows himself his euphoric moment for just a few seconds longer before pulling himself to his feet, wincing slightly before he pulls up his tights and makes his way out of his dressing room. A noticeable limp as he does so.
- Standard Match
- Jeb Stewart
- versus
- Ethan Frost
And we’re back at ringside, staring at Scott Ambrose and Hunter Jones. It should be noted that Hunter Jones is trying to hang a spoon off of his nose.
Ambrose: Please ignore my coworker for only two more matches, he’s a little special.
Jones: (frustrated) How…do they…do….this?
The spoon falls. And without missing a beat, per usual, Scott Ambrose picks up the slack.
Ambrose: Our next matchup of the evening will be pitting a recently returning Ethan Frost against The Affliction’s ring enforcer, Jeb Stewart, who is only wrestling in his second singles match.
Jones: Under the tutelage of Lane Stevens, it might as well be his 100th. He’s going to be a champion someday, Scott.
And the spoon falls again. Hunter sighs, and the arena lights dim down as one of the competitors is about to make his way to the ring.
Ambrose: Here we go, folks! Let’s see if Ethan Frost can keep up his momentum after a phenomenal showing in The Tower at FUSE’s War in Washington!
Jones: If by phenomenal, you mean he didn’t place in the Top 5, then sure!
The lights in the arena fade to an ice blue color, which covers the crowd like a frozen lake in winter.
# 'Colllld.. asss.. iiiiice; you know that you are #
# Colllld.. asss.. iiiiice; you're cold as ice to me! #
# Colllld.. asss.. iiiiice..' #
Jones: Did they turn the air conditioning on in here, Jesus! LOOK AT THESE NIPPLES!
The lyrics from Cold As Ice are quickly faded out as the much heavier beat of 'Killing In The Name' by Rage Against The Machine kicks in drawing the remaining members of the crowd to their feet as Frost appears from behind the curtain and slowly and surely makes his way towards the ring, taking his time.
Whilst he isn't ignoring the crowd he isn't giving them any specific attention his eyes firmly fixed on the ring and surrounding areas. Eventually he slides into the ring having circled it a number of times just in time for the slightly altered version of the song to start chanting.
# "Fuck you I won't do what you tell me!" #
# "Fuck you I won't do what you tell me!" #
As the lyrics slowly fade out the lights in the arena come up, leaving Frost with a steely look of determination in his eyes.
Ambrose: It should be noted that this is the first time Ethan Frost has stepped back into the ring against an Affliction member since both Jake and Travis Reed broke Ethan’s arm way back at the Revolution PPV!
Jones: Oh, how I miss the Reed brothers. The Legacy were gone before their time…
Ambrose: I have to agree with you there, but their actions against Frost were despicable! Clinton Sage and Lane Stevens both managed to outsmart Ethan Frost and Jacob McKail, and now Ethan Frost has suffered because of it!
Jones: Suffered? How?
Ambrose: His broken arm!
Jones: It doesn’t look broken!
Ambrose: It WAS broken, you idiot.
Jones: Blasphemy!
And then the arena lights shut off completely, and the video screen is lit up with that oh-so-familiar logo.
”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Stepping out through the curtains first is none other than ‘The River Rat’ Lane Stevens, wearing a black shirt with a small red Affliction BioHazard logo, and beneath it bright red text reading simply “GET FUCKED”. A few steps behind him, Jeb Stewart comes lumbering out through the curtainway, an innocent smile across his face.
An Affliction-remix of LL Cool J’s “Momma said knock you out” starts to play over the arena loudspeakers.
# I'm gonna knock you out #
# Mama said knock you out #
# Explosion, overpowerin' #
# Over the competition, I'm towerin' #
# I'm gonna knock you out #
# Mama said knock you out #
The cheering of the fans for Jeb Stewart are clearly overpowered by the booing of Lane Stevens.
Ambrose: I feel sorry for Jeb Stewart. In his heart he’s doing a right thing, but I just think he’s surrounded by much more manipulative people in Clinton Sage and Lane Stevens. Even the fans still cheer for him!
Jones: THEY SHOULD CHEER FOR HIM! He’s a member of the greatest stable of all time!
Continuing to slowly walk down to the ring, with Lane Stevens rushing over to the fans at ringside and motioning for a high five, only to miss their hands and give them a ‘What the fuck?’ look, both members of The Affliction enjoy the Jeb Stewart themed remix of the great LL Cool J song.
Ambrose: Well, I suppose Jeb Stewart’s stock is on the rise, he’s finally gotten his own entrance!
Jones: JEB STEWART GONNA KNOCK YOU OUT!
# The man of the hour, tower of power #
# I will devour #
# I'm gonna tie you up and let you understand #
# That I'm not your average man #
# I'm gonna knock you out #
# Mama said knock you out #
Quickly grabbing a microphone form ringside, Lane Stevens hops up onto the apron and steps between the top two ropes as Jeb Stewart steps OVER the top rope, and begins his prematch warm-up. Which consists of cracking his knuckles, and smiling at the fans that love him, even amid his Affliction affiliation.
# Mama said knock you out #
# Mama said knock you out #
# Mama said knock you out #
With both members of The Affliction standing on one side of the ring, and Ethan Frost on the other, Lane Stevens takes a step forward with an open palm, and the microphone up to that mouth of his.
Jones: Here comes brilliance!
Stevens: Now hold on a minute, Frosty flakes. Nice hair, by the way. Blue. Makes your eyes…pop. Anyhow, I’m hoping that there are no hard feelings about what happened a few months ago. You know, with the arm-breaking and all.
”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Stevens: And don’t let these fans boo you like that, it can wreak havoc with someone’s emotional state! HOW DARE YOU BOO ETHAN FROST LIKE THAT!?!?!
”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Ambrose: I don’t think Lane Stevens understands that they’re booing him! And if he does, man…the arrogance!
Jones: They would never boo The River Rat! EVER!
Ambrose: Are you willing to bet on that?
Jones: I’ll be my job on that!
Ambrose: How appropriate.
Across the ring, Ethan Frost looks a little distant, but interested in what Lane Stevens has to say for some odd reason. He simply waits, and lets the former LiveWire Champion continue.
Stevens: From what we’ve gathered, it seems as though you might be suffering from a little case of what I like to call the rubbery-legs. And let me tell you, squaring off against a mountain of a man like Jeb Stewart here…
”RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
Lane stops a minute, confused.
Stevens: Bi-polar crowd.
”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Stevens: So anyhow, against someone as big and tall as Jeb Stewart, that’s not a good thing. So what I’ve been ordered to offer you is a simple resolution. My big ole country fried chicken behind me will take it easy on you, taking note of your recent injuries.
Ambrose: There is always an if…
Stevens: …if you consider joining our ranks.
”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Ambrose: WHAT! That would be ridiculous! Ethan Frost was put OUT OF WRESTLING by The Affliction not even four months ago! Why would he even make such an offer!
Jones: Career advancement, Scott. Something we’ll need come tomorrow afternoon. And food stamps. And new sneakers. And some minute rice. And a microwave to cook the minute rice in.
Ambrose: We’re not losing our possessions, you idiot!
Jones: We are if you live in the arena week by week, like me. (sobs)
Inside the ring, Ethan Frost’s eyes narrow at the offer. They dart back and forth between Lane Stevens and Jeb Stewart, but there is never an offended look on his face. He simply absorbs the offer like he would any amount of trash talk by his opponent.
He doesn’t let them know what he’s thinking.
Stevens: Look at what it did for our boy The Mexican Devil. Since branding himself with the Biohazard A, his career has not only taken off, it’s rocketed to the unexplored parts of space alongside Captain Kirk and Spock. We are the Final Frontier of wrestling, smurfy. Stand by our side, and your career won’t suffer these…lapses…it has lately.
Lane Stevens reaches behind himself and pulls out a shirt that was tucked into his tights. He opens it momentarily to reveal the Affliction Biohazard A symbol, and then folds it up and tosses it. He doesn’t toss it towards Ethan Frost, however, but towards a neutral corner.
Ambrose: I don’t believe this.
Jones: You better believe it, Ethan Frost is going to join The Affliction!
Turning around, Lane Stevens whispers into Jeb Stewarts ear, and Jeb nods accordingly. Stevens points towards Ethan Frost, then pats the air in a ‘take it easy’ fashion, before stepping out through the ropes. Once on the apron, he screams at the top of his lungs “YOU’RE ALL WHORES!” for some reason or another.
”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Ambrose: I really think that the formation of The Highwaymen has got The Affliction scared! They’re recruiting men who once stood against them! They’re recruiting a man who has defeated both Clinton Sage AND Lane Stevens!
Jones: I don’t remember those matches.
Ambrose: You wouldn’t.
Jones: I don’t own a TV.
Ambrose: YOU WERE SITTING RIGHT HERE!
Jones: We haven’t been to Wisconsin in years, Scott. We couldn’t have been sitting right
here!
** DING DING DING! **
Ambrose: Folks, we’re underway! And the last thing Ethan Frost needs right now is to be debating on whether or not to join The Affliction!
Jones: Career-defining move, Scott. Just like when The White Power Ranger joined up with the rest of the Power Rangers.
Inside the ring, both Jeb Stewart and Ethan Frost step towards each other cautiously. Jeb nods towards his opponent, and Ethan Frost doesn’t nod back, and both men lunge at each other.
Ambrose: Collar and elbow tie up! Both men battling back and forth for control…
Jones: This is a mistake on Ethan’s part.
Ambrose: Frost showing his strength and holding his ground against the much bigger Stewart…Jeb Stewart tosses Ethan Frost backwards like he was a ragdoll!
Jones: Except this raggedy andy has blue hair instead of red! And no freckles, just…personal problems.
Ambrose: Stewart comes charging in, but holds himself back right as he was ready to deliver an axehandle to the back of Ethan Frost. Lane Stevens is slapping the mat feverishly, screaming ‘take it easy!’ at Stewart! I don’t think Stewart knows how to take it easy!
Jones: Nobody in The Affliction ever goes at half speed, Ambrose. It’s full speed to the main event, baby!
Seeing the momentary lapse in his opponents concentration, Ethan Frost hops to his feet, only to drop down and deliver a dropkick to the knees of Jeb Stewart.
Ambrose: Oh my! Frost showing his ring psychology by trying to take out the supports on his opponent!
Jones: He’s not down, though!
Ambrose: Very true, Hunter! Stewart dropped to one knee, but is still quite easily rooted, keeping with the tree analogy. Ethan Frost backs himself away from Jeb Stewart…bounces off of the ropes for momentum…and OH MY! FLYING LARIAT TO THE THROAT OF JEB STEWART!
Both men go toppling backwards to the mat, Ethan Frost coming to a rest atop Jeb Stewart and before Stewart can even realize what’s going on, Ethan Frost has him mounted and is delivering lefts and rights to the gentle giant’s face.
”RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! FROST – FROST – FROST!”
Ambrose: My goodness! It looks as if Ethan Frost was offended by The Affliction’s offer to join their ranks!
Jones: Or he’s thinking back to that creepy gangland initiation of El Diablo, where violence opens the door!
Ambrose: …that could be very correct, sadly. Although Lane Stevens doesn’t look so pleased with Ethan Frost!
On the outside of the ring, Lane Stevens slaps the mat, his face turning as red as his hair. He screams towards Stewart to “Show him what we’re capable of!” and continues to slap the mat, even turning around to taunt the fans in his anger.
Ambrose: Frost still wailing way on Stewart with lefts and rights!
Jones: SPOKE TOO SOON, SCOTTY BOY!
Ambrose: Jeb Stewart just bucked his midsection and Ethan Frost went sailing off. The giant gets to his feet surprisingly quickly, looks at Lane Stevens and nods his head! HE PICKS UP ETHAN FROST BY HIS BLUE HAIR!
Jones: Time to shave that off, Frosty.
Ambrose: Jeb Stewart showing his true size and strength here…OH, JEB DRIVES A KNEE INTO ETHAN FROSTS THIGH! Those weakened legs just buckled completely!
Following up the knee to the thigh, Jeb Stewart finally connectes with that double Axe-handle to the back of the head, knocking Ethan Frost to the mat with relative ease. Once again, Jeb Stewart picks up Ethan Frost as if he were a bag of groceries, and Irish whips him into the corner.
Ambrose: Stewart charging towards Frost, his arm ready to decapitate Ethan Frost! FROST DUCKS! A quick roll to the side, and Ethan Frost jumps into the air and grabs Jeb Stewart’s head…SWINGING NECKBREAKER BY ETHAN FROST!
Jones: I wouldn’t hurt him too badly, Ethan! He’s gonna get angry. YOU WOULDN’T LIKE HIM WHEN HE’S ANG LEE!
Ambrose: I’ve told you countless times before, that Incredible Hulk joke isn’t funny.
Jones: It’s witty, something you’d never know anything about. YOU NAZI!
Using his strength to it’s potential, Ethan Frost guides Jeb Stewart to his feet and sets him up for a powerslam. Reaching around his midsection, Ethan Frost tries to hoist the much bigger Jeb Stewart up…and can’t.
Ambrose: Frost’s one of the stronger men we have in FUSE, but Jeb Stewart is just a monster. And if those legs are as weak as Lane Stevens said they were, there is NO WAY he’s getting the Affliction’s biggest member off of his feet!
Jones: YOU WOULDN’T LIKE HIM WHEN HE’S ANG LEE!
Ambrose: (sighs)
Grabbing Jeb Stewart by the face, Ethan Frost tries to fall forward with a Russian Leg Sweep, except Jeb Stewart just tosses Ethan Frost to the mat like a blue-haired stepchild, and drops one of the biggest leg drops in FUSE history across the lower body of the former LiveWire Champion.
Ambrose: Stewart is showing some true ring psychology tonight, definitely taking lessons from his superiors, as sad as it makes me to compliment Lane Stevens and Clinton Sage.
Jones: Sad? It should be the greatest moment in your life!
Once more, Jeb Stewart picks up Ethan Frost and scoops him HIGH into the air, slamming him down at a three-quarter angle onto the mat, crushing Frost’s right shoulder in the process.
Ambrose: Stewart is going in for the kill! Frost better mind his surroundings if he hopes to—
Outside of the ring, right before Jeb Stewart was ready to jump into the air and deliver a death blow via a double knee drop to the back of Frost’s neck, Lane Stevens once again begain screaming for Stewart to take it easy.
Ambrose: Stevens making sure that he keeps up his end of the bargain! He’s taking it easy on Ethan Frost!
Jones: Easy? We haven’t seen the REAL Jeb Stewart yet! I heard he once straightened the leaning tower of Pisa simply by leaning against it!
Ambrose: You did not!
Jones: Would I ever lie to you?
Ambrose: Among other things.
Inside the ring, Jeb takes his concentration off of Ethan Frost and is listening to Lane Steven’s explicit instructions.
Ambrose: Lane Stevens is such a rat. Such a manipulator.
Jones: He’s looking out for the future of The Affliction, Scott. What are you doing to look out for your future? WILL I SEE YOU NEXT WEEK ON KILLZONE!??! NO I WON’T!
Ambrose: (sighs) I think you might need to be admitted, Hunter. Seriously.
Jones: I admit the only thing necessary: I AM AWESOME.
Lane Stevens hops up onto the apron and begins whispering into Jeb Stewarts ear, and Jeb nods along accordingly. But suddenly, Jeb Stewart’s head isn’t right next to Lane Stevens anymore, and before Lane can realize what happened, he can hear the slapping of Willy Parr’s hand against the canvas.
Ambrose: ETHAN FROST WITH A SCHOOLBOY ROLL UP!
ONE!
TWO!
Jones: This isn’t how my dream was supposed to end!
THREE!
”RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
** DING DING DING **
Ambrose: Ethan Frost has snuck a win out from underneath The Affliction! And Hunter, do you realize what this means!?!
Jones: Free blue hair dye at Walmart for a week?
Ambrose: This means that Ethan Frost has now beaten THREE members of The Affliction, and CLEANLY! I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone came knocking on his door after tonight!
Inside the ring, ‘The River Rat’ hops over the top rope and charges over towards Ethan Frost, who is still slightly dazed but laying beside Jeb Stewart, who has reached his knees and is looking around in slight confusion.
Ambrose: On no, I’m not sure how long that offer might last! Lane Stevens taking to the skies!
Jones: AIR STEVENS, CLEAR FOR DEPARTURE!
”GASP”
Ambrose: What the…?
Lane Stevens hops over both Jeb Stewart and Ethan Frost, snatching up The Affliction T-shirt from the neutral corner of the ring. Once again, he unfolds it and slowly makes his way towards Ethan Frost.
Ambrose: Frost might want to high-tail it out of that ring!
Jones: Yeah, it’s not like he can call on his friends…THEY’RE ALL GONE! No McKail, no Fusion! No Covel!
Ambrose: And Lane Stevens is just standing there, holding the t-shirt directly before Ethan Frost! He’s pointing at the Affliction logo, and then down towards Ethan himself!
Lane Stevens nods at Ethan Frost, and then drops the t-shirt at his feet. ‘The River Rat’, never pleased with losing, pats Jeb Stewart on the back slightly and motions for both men to leave the ring.
Ambrose: Tonight, The Affliction are losers, ladies and gentlemen!
Jones: But look at Ethan Frost, he’s staring down at the t-shirt! They might have lost the match, but they could still come away winners!
Ambrose: Dear Lord, I hope not. Ethan Frost is one we should never lose to them. Ever.
Jones: Speak for yourself, Scotty boy. Stand beside Sage and Stevens and El Diablo! You know you want to!
Ambrose: Folks, we’ll be back shortly!
Challenge
Starring: The Cowboys From Hell
We head to the Cowboys From Hell’s dressing room. The place is a mess. Monitors knocked over and broken, the couch is on end against the wall. The only thing that seems to be in place are the Fatal Faction Titles, which are hanging from rods in their respective lockers.
Wyatt: Son of a bitch.
Wyatt then turns around and tosses a garbage can against the wall, just barely missing Jake’s head.
Jake: Wyatt, we lost tonight. Plain and simple.
Wyatt: I know, and I don’t like it.
Jake: Well, how about this. Next week. We take on any team that FUSE puts in front of us. If they win, they get those.
Jake points at the Fatal Faction championship belts.
Jake: If we can’t beat whatever ramshackle team that FUSE puts before us, we don’t deserve those belts.
The Cocktail Bar Episode 1
Starring: Paul Cain and Maria Lopez
Ambrose: Ladies and gentlemen, tonight has certainly been one hell of a night so far but we are going to change the pace a little bit now with something completely different…
Jones: You’re going straight?!
Ambrose: Because something like THAT has never been said to me before!
Before the bickering can truly begin, the lights come down to half way and the screen shows the popping of a champagne bottle and a glass being poured out against a black backdrop. The sound mixes in perfectly with the beginning of “Gin And Juice” by Snoop Dogg and into the entrance way comes Paul Cain. He’s dressed in a black suit with red shirt and smart black shoes, nodding his head slowly with a smile. Slowly strutting down the ramp, he slaps high fives with those fans on either side of him and smiles at them with confidence. As he reaches the ring, he stands back and admires the set of his brand new show:
The Cocktail Bar
He dives under the ring ropes and stands with arms folded, admiring the long bar that has been set up opposite the camera. It’s complete with bottles of real alcohol and bar mats with two bar stools and a table placed in the middle of the ring. The mat is covered with a red carpet and Cain seems very satisfied with what he sees. He picks up the microphone that has been left on the table and walks a small circle around the ring before calling out to the people.
Paul Cain: Oh it feels good to be home!
A ripple of applause goes around the crowd as they’re not quite sure how this show will turn out yet.
Paul Cain: I was sat back in the locker room in Washington and I thought “FUSE is missing something”. It needs a bit of spice to it, a bit of sex appeal and sophistication…But then I remembered that can’t be right because it has me already! So then I thought how about reopening the most popular establishment in wrestling for years, a show that made stars, remembered legends and showcased some of the most brutal feuds in wrestling history…
He nods his head with a smile and points with both forefingers to the bar.
Paul Cain: The one…and the only…Cocktail Bar!
The crowd cheers in recognition of the new addition to FUSE and Cain runs one hand over the top of the bar with pride. He then turns back to face the camera and addresses the fans that are standing behind it.
Paul Cain: For the weeks to go, I’ll be bringing you all exclusive access to your heroes and yes there are others apart from me, shocking I know, as well as the biggest bastards in this company of which there are many of those too. However, for tonight, there’s one thing that’s really weighing on my mind which I need to get off my chest. I’m not one to hog the limelight…
He frowns as a few people shout disagreement out to him.
Paul Cain: No seriously, I’m not! See tonight, I was going to bring out some huge star for tonight’s show, you know someone like…Clinton Sage?
Cue the loud and raucous booing for Mr Sage which raises a smirk from Paul.
Paul Cain: Yeah okay, maybe that wouldn’t have been the roaring success that this show deserves on the first outing. You get the idea though. I had HUGE plans until a certain someone deprived you all by continuing to piss me off! So I thought, what better place to air your personal grievances than right here in Madison, Wisconsin?!
Cheap pop central and the crowd know it but lap it up anyway, as you would expect.
Paul Cain: Hey, it worked for Jerry Springer didn’t it?
He moves the bar stools aside and stares down the aisle as he puts his microphone to his mouth.
Paul Cain: So without further ado, may I present to you, our first customer here at The Bar…The one and only, Super Bitch of wrestling, I give to you…Maaaaaaaaria…
Leaning forward, he spits over the ring ropes onto the mat outside before finishing his sentence in a dead pan tone.
Paul Cain: Lopez.
Strangely some of the crowd do boo as expected but others which can be told apart as female, cheer the name of the new manageress in FUSE. The speakers begin to play the song “Nobody’s Wife” by Dutch singer, Anouk. She appears in the entranceway in a tight black dress with her hands on her hips and a glare that could kill.
# I'm sorry for the times that I made you scream
# for the times that I killed your dreams
# for the times that I made your whole world rumble
# for the times that I made you cry
# for the times that I told you lies
# for the times that I watched and let you stumble
Cain can be seen pacing up and down along the ring ropes like a caged animal, before marching backwards into the middle of the squared circle. She bows her head forward and then tosses her hair back as she begins to stride with a purpose towards The Cocktail Bar.
# It's too bad, but that's me
# what goes around comes around, you'll see
# that I can carry the burden of pain
# 'cause it ain't the first time that a man goes insane
# and when I spread my wings to embrace him for life
# I'm suckin' out his love, 'cause I, I'll never be nobody's wife
As the chorus ends, she climbs through the ropes and steps slowly over to Paul and stands toe to toe with him, looking up with a sinister stare. She reaches her hand backwards and picks up the extra microphone on the table without once taking her eyes off him. Slowly she raises it to her lips.
Maria Lopez: So babe, you really want to do this tonight, right here in front of all these people [she gestures to them with her open palm]…In front of all the FUSE Staff members you’re desperate to impress because you can’t handle the fact you don’t measure up anymore…I mean, look at you, you’re not the man I used to know…But what surprises me most is that you really want to do this in front of your WIFE who I KNOW is watching this at home?
Paul Cain has his glare fixated on Maria before snapping it away and walking up and down the middle of the ring.
Paul Cain: You expect me to bow down to you and beg you for silence? Do you actually remember me in any way shape or form? Sure, you got me all riled up but hell, I challenge any guy in this audience who wouldn’t be just a tiny bit uncomfortable with the return of an ex girlfriend that as a revenge for being dumped, tried to get you KILLED!
She laughs lightly to herself and shakes her head.
Maria Lopez: Always so self absorbed, paranoid and melodramatic hey Paul?
He shrugs and turns away from her.
Paul Cain: Only the way you made me.
Dismissively, Maria shakes her head and turns to the camera.
Maria Lopez: You know, people like me have a responsibility to the fans of FUSE, to the young girls and women that come here to cheer on their heroes and boo the men they hate. The problem is, that some villains, they just aren’t as obvious and it’s my duty to protect the young girls from these people.
With an evil glance, she turns to briefly look Paul in the eyes and then returns to the camera.
Maria Lopez: Five years ago, I experienced the most humiliating and degrading experience that a woman can have, all because of THIS man. Because when things got tough and he lost his way, he turned on the one person that was there for him throughout everything. I stuck by you, Paul, I was there for you more than anyone and I was willing to do anything for you. Now tell me, tell the people, when you lost everything, what did you do Paul?
She turned with her eyes slightly watery as she walked over to Cain, emotion showing on her face.
Maria Lopez: Tell the people what you did in that hotel room, on THAT night!
Paul bows his head and then looks across to the fans to his left and then right.
Paul Cain: What kind of woman betrays her own sister, threatens her life and then sides with the very monster who was trying to destroy me at the time huh?
Now his own anger comes to the fore as he approaches her and stands toe to toe with her once again.
Paul Cain: What kind of woman lies and cheats to get what she wants?! The same woman who thinks its okay to ride on my coattails, take everything I have then stab me in the heart when I’ve SERVED MY PURPOSE?!
There is a mixed reaction from the crowd as they’re cautious about the person they should be cheering. With her hands in her curled black hair, Maria suddenly snaps, fuming at Cain.
Maria Lopez: WHAT KIND OF MAN, THINKS IT’S OKAY TO SLAM ME AGAINST THE GODDAMN WALL BY MY HAIR AND THEN THROW THEIR FIST OVER AND OVER AGAIN INTO MY FACE UNTIL I CAN’T FUCKING SEE ANYMORE?! MY EYES ARE SWOLLEN, THERE’S BLOOD POURING FROM MY FOREHEAD AND YOU, YOU JUST FUCKING LEAVE ME TO BLEED!
The crowd gasp in shock as they begin to boo lightly.
Maria Lopez: THAT’S RIGHT! THAT’S RIGHT! THE MAN WHO WANTS TO BE YOUR HERO BEATS WOMEN AND FUCKING ENJOYS IT!
Paul closes his eyes slowly and seems to relive the moment as he holds the mic by his side. Some in the crowd are chanting “Wifebeater” while others are cheering Cain still. He breathes deeply and then draws the microphone back to his mouth, speaking quietly into it.
Paul Cain: You betrayed me…You physically abused your sister just because we were involved…You ran off with the sadistic sonofabitch who threatened to rape your flesh and blood then kill the one she wanted…Me…You did all that…And you then claim I enjoyed what I did? Well in all honesty…
He raises his head and stares right at her.
Paul Cain: I’d fucking do it again.
With that the microphone drops to the floor and he swiftly kicks her hard in the stomach. Snapping her up he hoists her onto his shoulders, spins her around and then—
Ambrose [OSV]: SLAIN BY CAIN! SLAIN BY CAIN ONTO THE DAMN TABLE!
Jones [OSV]: That’s, that’s, ah what the hell, women are only good for one thing!
Ambrose [OSV]: This is DISGUSTING! I don’t care what she’s done, you should NEVER put your hands on a woman!
Jones [OSV]: And THAT is why you’ve not gotten laid.
Ambrose [OSV]: Will you stop?! This is NOT RIGHT, Paul Cain is standing over Maria!
Cain looks down on her with fury and hears the mixed reaction from those around him.
Paul Cain: No. Fucking. Regrets.
He throws the microphone down beside her and walks towards the ring ropes but his eyes are not leaving the fallen body of Maria Lopez. The crowds reaction is mixed but Cain doesn’t care as he jumps out of the ring and solemnly makes his way back to the ring, breezing past a shocked Damien Kahn who is waiting at the entrance for him.
Mirror, Mirror on the Wall
Starring: Jason Cruise, Marie, and …
Backstage at the Kohl Center, away from the main part of the arena, where there aren't photographers, the staffers, the reporters and the fan boys lurking about to cause additional distractions. No, from all appearances, there's just Highwaymen member Jason Cruise stalking back and forth like a caged lions. Cruise is dressed simple, expression one of worry. He's wearing designer jeans, a tight fitting black Highwaymen shirt, and a red bandanna.
Cruise: This can't be happening.
And then there's Marie. Brown hair scales down her tanned cheeks as she walks into the room, adjusting the short black spaghetti strapped dress that forms around her delicate curves. She stands in the doorway before sliding towards a vanity mirror to the left, lightly moving the door away from her but not completely shutting it.
Marie: I know, it's so exciting.
Cruise: That's not what I meant.
She plays with her hair, parting it to the right, then to the left, and then back to the right again.
Marie: Does this look ok?
Cruise: Marie.
Jason sighs.
Cruise: We need to talk about this.
Marie: I know.. I mean a new name? That's kind of weird. What's wrong with my name?
Cruise: Nothing -- that's not the point.
Marie: What about Kathryn? Do I look like a Kathryn?
Exhale. Jason paces towards Marie and puts his hand on her shoulder.
Cruise: You need to tell him you aren't interested.
Marie: You think he'd let me just keep it the way it is?
Cruise: No [frustrated] you aren't listening. Tell him you aren't interested in being an employee here. You have a job, already.
Marie: A low paying one. This could be fun, we could be together all the time. What about Desiree? It's kind of exotic sounding isn't it?
Cruise: Just -- slow down for a second. Think what you are getting yourself into. Life on the road, living out of a suitcase, lack of sleep...
She looks back at him.
Marie: You seem to be ok with it, I think I'll manage. Besides, the hospital isn't going anywhere, I can always go back if it's not for me.
With his hand on her shoulder he gingerly spins her face towards his, bringing them nose to nose.
Cruise: Listen. It sounds fun, I know. Exciting even. But you aren't thinking this through. It's not all being on TV and fun and games, you could get hurt.
She rolls her eyes.
Marie: Oh please, not this speech again. You're worried, you care, you love me... I'm a big girl from a big city, it's not like I'm some small town girl from the middle of nowhere, Kansas. Wait -- that's it.
Cruise: What is?
Marie: Kansas. I could be a Kansas, Kansas Marie.
Cruise: You can't be serious.
Marie: No, it fits! I get to keep my name and change it at the same time. You know you're impressed.
Cruise: It doesn't even matter. You aren't taking the job.
Marie: Are you telling me what I can and can't do?
Cruise: Yes.
Marie laughs.
Marie: Does it really bother you THAT much?
Another deep breath.
Cruise: It does.
Marie: Fine.
His eyes widen.
Marie: I won't take the job.
Cruise: Really?
Marie: Yes. However...Kansas Marie will.
And like that, she smiles, kisses him on the cheek, and exits the open doorway. Jason's hands cover his face as he stands in front of the mirror as the camera slowly fades. But as it does we notice something... someone. In the corner of the mirror is a reflection of someone writing notes on a large notepad. The identity while a mystery is oddly familiar.
The Scourge.
Fade.
Advantage Gained
Starring: El Diablo, The Scourge, and ???
The scene cuts suddenly into El Diablo’s locker room once more, where The Mexican Devil remains seated.
El Diablo: Maybe I’m done. Maybe I should retire again. I can’t think of another solution. If I can’t be the best, then there is no point of me being here.
The Creator of Controversy runs his hands through his hair.
El Diablo: I’m trying to build a legacy, but what is the point if I can’t ever win the big one? There’s part of me that wants to give it all up, but the other part is telling to go on and prove to myself that I can do it. I just don’t know if I have that desire though, I cannot lose to Jason Cruise again. What do you think?
Zooming into his face again, El Diablo leans to his right appearing to be listening to someone who is whispering into his ear.
El Diablo: You’re right, all it takes is three seconds and the LiveWire Title is mine again. But I’ll need your help, I’’ll need your advice because to me you’re the greatest wrestler there has ever been. I’ll need to be at my best to defeat Cruise, and you’re the only one that can get me to that level.
Taking a deep breath, The Mexican Devil scratches at his stubble as the camera zooms out to a full body shot.
El Diablo: All I need is an edge, some kind of advantage over Jason Cruise.
Suddenly turning his head, The Creator of Controversy heard a knock at the door.
El Diablo: Come in.
The Mexican Devil stands up and faces the door in anticipation of who may enter, as the camera shot widens. Slowly the door opens, and in steps the masked entity known as The Scourge, carrying pieces of poster board
El Diablo: Am I needed?
Shutting the door behind himself, The Scourge hands his fellow Affliction member a piece of poster board.
El Diablo: Is this true?
The Scourge doesn’t answer and hands him a second piece of poster board.
El Diablo: I think you’ve just given me my edge.
The Scourge quietly leaves the locker room as The Mexican Devil drops the pieces of poster board to the ground. The camera man quickly runs around to zoom in onto the hand written notes.
“ELIMINATE CRUISE‘S LOVER”
“THEN THE TITLE WILL BE YOURS AGAIN”
Raising the camera slowly, The Mexican Devil is seen smiling a sinister grin into a full length mirror.
El Diablo: Now all I need is your help.
The camera pans around the room very slowly, revealing that, other than The Scourge, El Diablo had been alone the entire time.
Words Are Weapons
Starring: Sean Sterling and Mayson Colby
Mayson Colby is seen standing backstage, preparing for his upcoming match as he reaches into his locker and pulls out some tape. He shuts the locker door and begins to turn around, only to find Sterling standing mere inches away. Before Colby can open his mouth to speak, Sterling lunges at him. Before anyone can even blink, Sterling has Colby pushed up against the lockers, a switchblade pressed up against his throat, a look of absolute evil in his eyes. The usual cocky grin isn't splayed out across Sterling's face, just a look that could shake any man to the bones. For a moment, there's silence, until Sterling begins to speak...
Sean Sterling: I want you to listen and I want you to listen good, Mayson. After tonight? This is your final chance to walk out of this. You're in over your head and I will be forced to take extreme measures if you're going to let this continue. You think I pulled a good one with Andy and Lissa? I can do worse. You think you've seen anything yet? You haven't seen shit. So this is it. After tonight, you never look at me, you never speak to me, you never mention my name. And you never ever mention Judith again. Are we clear, Mayson?
The tape falls to the floor as Colby stares straight in to evil personified. As the blade presses against his throat, Colby's lip twitches yet he remains calm and somehow manages to coax his voice to come out steady.
Mayson Colby: I may be over my head, Sean, but I'm not going to just walk away. I can't do that, and we both know it.
Colby reaches up and firmly grabs Sterling's wrist. He tries to pull the other man's arm away, but Sterling's face is locked in determination and he doesn't budge.
Mayson Colby: Are you truely capable of bringing more death, or is that just an act as well?
Sterling's lip snarls at Colby's words, his arm pushing the blade closer to Colby's throat in reply.
Sean Sterling: Are you really so dense? Have these past few months not made things obvious to you yet? I could care less if you live or die, Colby. As far as I'm concerned, you're useless to me either way. I'm the superior. You're the inferior. Don't make me prove that to you again, Colby.
A thin grin starts to spread across Sterling's face, curling the sides of his lips.
Sean Sterling: Do you realize who or what I am, Colby? Do you think I'm fucking pulling your leg when I say I'm God? I am the Alpha. I am the Omega. I am the beginning. I am the end... and you? You're just a piss-ant in the grand scheme of things. A failure who can't seem to understand that he DOES NOT stand a fucking chance against me.
Mayson Colby: You see, that's what you don't understand Sean. I've already won. The difference between us is, you choose for your victories to be due to a course of violence. An act, which I'm not buying by the way.
Colby once again tries to push Sterling's arm away, but once again it remains locked in to place. Colby shrugs as a thin smile creases his face.
Mayson Colby: I realize that Judith may have been your everything. Without her, you feel like you have nothing left. Forgive me when I say I don't believe you had nothing to do with her fate, in one way or another. Man up and move on. Either get this fucking thing out of my face, or use it.
There's another long moment of silence as Sterling simply stares at Colby, more anger in his eyes than he's ever shown on the camera. Without warning, Sterling pulls the knife away from Colby's neck quickly, revealing skin that's slightly broken from the pressure of the knife. Once again, his words came out barely above a whisper.
Sean Sterling: I warned you and you didn't listen. You had your chance, Colby. After tonight, nothing is sacred. After tonight, you better keep a careful eye over your shoulder at all times...
Sterling turns to leave, but right before he walks out the door, he looks over his shoulder with that oh-so-trademark sick grin suddenly back on his face.
Sean Sterling: ...and you better make goddamn sure that your darling sister has a fucking army protecting her.
And with that, Sterling disappears from around the corner, leaving Colby alone once again.
Whose Fooling Who?
Starring:Prince Pride and Paul Cain
PAUL CAIN.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"
That's what the locker room door says on it, and that's where your savior...
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
....Prince Pride stands, with his "I HATE WRESTLING" sign in hand. Pride knocks on the door.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
Prince Pride: Hellooooooooooo, oh tag team partner, it's me, your partner, Prince Pride, your savior, here to talk a little strategy.
Pride waits outside the door, but no answer.
Pride: Are you in there? I'd hate to enter without...
...And Pride quickly turns the knob and slowly opens the door, the room is dimly lit but standing in the corner is Paul Cain, he appears to be deep in thought or stretching, and in one swift move Pride takes the paper off of his sign to reveal a two by four, Pride's eyes grown wide with excitement as he charges towards Paul Cain and swings with the 2x4.
THWACK!
The sound is sickening as Pride literally takes Cain's head off, literally. Cain's head falls off and Pride begins to stomp on his head as drops the 2X4 and quickly drops an elbow on Paul Cain's head.
Prince Pride: [Deranged] Do you trust me now? Do you? Do you!? I'm not afraid of you Cain, I'm not...
Pride pauses as he realizes something, it's impossible to have detached a humans head from the body. Pride grabs the head and stares at it.
"Can I help you?"
Pride grabs the head as he gets to his knees, and pulls the head closer to him.
Prince Pride: [Confused] Paul, is that you?
"Yes it is, partner"
The camera pans to the doorway as the lights flick on.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Paul Cain stands in the doorway with a smug look on his face as he stares at Pride with a shamed look on his face.
Paul Cain: You can never be too safe around here, don't know who you can trust.
Cain smiles at Pride, whose face is growing angrier and angrier by the moment, as he holds what he now realizes is a mannequin head in his hand.
Paul Cain: It takes a real man to attack, "me", from behind, let see what happens tonight after [miming quotes] "we", win our match.
Pride begins to snot and huff and puff, as he's once again been shown up by Paul Cain.
Paul Cain: [Smirking] Stop playing with dolls, time to get serious, we've got a match to win…
Deadpan pause.
Paul Cain: Partner.
Cain winks at Pride as he walks out of the doorway, Pride stands fuming, as he throws the mannequin head against the wall and pulls at his hair as snot runs down his nose, and with that we know that time team will be more dysfunctional than we could ever imagine, and with that we fade.
- Strange Bedfellows Match
- Sean Sterling
- Mayson Colby
- versus
- Paul Cain
- Prince Pride
Ambrose: Well, this is certainly going to be an interesting and unique match.
Jones: What are the chances everyone dies in a flaming car wreck?
Ambrose: Not good.
Jones: I’m going to get some nachos.
Ambrose: Oh come on, sit down.
Jones: Eh, alright. This Sterling guy hits kids right?
Ambrose: Yeah.
Jones: Alright, I’m in.
SKYE: The following contest is set for two falls. The first fall will be a tag-team match, with the winning team competing immediately afterwards in a one-on-one match-up.
## Doo doo doo doooo##
## Doo doo doo doooo##
## Doo doo doo doooo##
## Aaahhh ##
## Aaahhh##
The spotlights begin to beam down the aisle, as a fast rising smoke fills the arena as Bonnie Tyler’ “Holding out for a Hero” begins to blare.
SKYE: Ladies and gentlemen, from Norman, Oklahoma, the pound for pound greatest athelete in professional wrestling…
## Where have all the good men gone##
## And where are all the gods? ##
## Where’s the street-wise Hercules##
## To fight the rising odds? ##
And emerging through the smoke, is the savior, the second generation phenom, the prodigal son, the pharaoh of paranoia, Prince Pride. Wearing a tank top that has “WRESTLING” written on it inside of a circle, and crossed out, basketball shorts, basketball shoes, and of course his trademark lion mane and wild hair, his caramel complexion glistens in the light.
SKYE: YOUR SAVIOR AND MINE, A SECOND GENERATION GOD-SEND, AND THE MAN THAT WILL END WRESTLING AS YOU KNOW IT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS…
## Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed? ##
## Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need##
Pride walks down the aisle, pausing every once in a while sneering in disgust at his surroundings, disgusted by the circus that is professional wrestling.
SKYE: PRINCE PRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDDDDEEEEEEEEE!!!
## I need a hero##
## I'm holding out for at hero 'till the end of the night##
## He's gotta be strong##
## And he's gotta be fast##
## And he's gotta be fresh from the fight##
Pride quickly sprints to the ring and in one athletic move leaps and jumps in-between the bottom and the middle rope, tucking and rolling onto his feet in the ring. He stands up almost to applaud himself, as he sneers again out to the crowd. He slowly mounts the turnbuckles, and blows snot rockets down in the fans general direction, slowly raising his arms in a sign of victory.
## I need a hero##
## I’m holding out for a hero 'till the morning light##
## He’s gotta be sure##
## And it’s gotta be soon##
## And he’s gotta be larger than life##
## Larger than life##
Pride leaps down and tests the ropes.
Jones: Whew, I’m tired.
Ambrose: From what?
Jones: Removing all those brackets.
Ambrose: What?
SKYE: And his tag-team partner…
“Points of Authority” by Linkin Park starts to play, and a good percentage of the fans immediately stand. They have grown to like Mr. Cain in the last few weeks.
SKYE: Standing 6’3” and weighing in at 235 pounds, he is the lethal cocktail…PAAAAAAAAAAUL CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Paul steps out from the back and raises his right hand in the air. He walks rather quickly to the ring, as it’s obvious he’s anxious to get this one under way.
Ambrose: The dynamics of this match pretty intriguing, Hunter.
Jones: That’s what she said.
Ambrose: I don’t know what that means.
Cain slides in the ring, and immediately engages in a stare down with his partner.
SKYE: And their opponents, introducing first…
Fuck the lights.
Cue the music.
“To Fix the Gash in Your Head" by A Place to Bury Strangers. New song for a new era.
The fans erupt into a chorus of boos as "The Second Coming" Sean Sterling makes his way out from backstage, that typical asshole grin spread across his face with that trademark cigarette hanging from between his lips.
SKYE: Standing 6’1” and weighing in at 200 pounds even…he is the second coming…SEEEEEEEEEEEAN STEEEEEEEERLING!
#Every time we meet, well, I go down.
#I'm just waiting for you to turn around.
#To kick your head in.
#To fix a gash in your head.
Sterling marches towards the ring, sliding beneath the ropes, and coming to stand in the very center. He poses for a moment while fans snap pictures from the stands. As soon as he breaks out of the pose, he goes to his corner, tossing his cigarette out of the ring as the music fades.
Ambrose: Sean Sterling has certainly made a name for himself recently.
“Crimes” by A Perfect Circle begins to play over the audio system. The crowd is ecstatic.
SKYE: And his tag-team partner, standing 6’2” and weighing in at 215 pounds…MAAAAAAAAAYSON COOOOOLBY!
Ambrose: This has been one of the most spirited feuds in FUSE as of late, Hunter.
Jones: Except for my blood feud with Curly the janitor.
Ambrose: I didn’t hear about that one.
Jones: FANS CALL THE HOTLINE!
Ambrose: We don’t have a hotline.
Mayson comes out of the back pumped up, as he is literally running down to ringside.
Ambrose: This is one of the biggest opportunities Mayson has had in his career, and he is excited about it!
Mayson slides under the bottom rope and immediately gets to his feet, his head going back and forth between his opponent and his tag-team partner. The members of both teams slowly approach their partners, and start a discussion.
Jones: In order for one of these men to get a shot at the Livewire belt, they have to at least attempt to co-exist with their most bitter rival in the first part of this match…and whichever team does that the best, is probably going to win.
DING!
DING!
DING!
Ambrose: And here we go! Mayson Colby will be starting this match off against Prince Pride.
The two men circle each other for a bit, before a standard collar and elbow tie-up.
Ambrose: And here’s Mayson with a go-behind on Pride, and Prince swinging back with an elbow, and there’s a duck-under by Colby, and Pride swings again with the other elbow and there’s ANOTHER duck-under…and there’s a go-behind by Pride now!
Jones: These two can really wrestle.
Ambrose: And thanks for a semi-serious comment, Hunter.
Prince attempts to lift Colby up for a german suplex but Mayson lands on his feet. Pride stands up and taps his head a few times as if to say “I’m pretty smart”.
Jones: Turn around Prince!
SLAP!
WOOOOOOO!
SLAP!
WOOOOOOO!
Ambrose: Mayson is chopping the hell out of Prince Pride! And there’s a standing dropkick!
Pride rolls to the corner and tags Paul Cain on the leg and leaves the ring promptly. Cain glares at him on the floor for a second, and the two exchange words. While they are doing that Mayson takes a running start at Cain who stands on the apron and hits him with a high knee to the back and Cain falls right into Prince Pride.
Ambrose: OH MY! COLBY IS ON FIRE IN THE EARLY GOING! And there’s a little meeting of the minds between Cain and Prince Pride.
Jones: I get it! You’re saying they collided! HAHAHAHAHA, shut up.
Prince Pride gets up, and promptly throws Paul Cain in the ring by the tights. When he arrives in the ring he scrambles to his feet and Colby is waiting. He grabs Paul from behind.
Ambrose: GERMAN SUPLEX WITH A BRIDGE! That really caught Cain by surprise…
1………..
Ambrose: Not even a two count! Prince Pride scooted in the ring quickly and kicked Colby right in the groin to break the cover up!
The referee admonishes Pride who quickly goes out to his own corner.
Ambrose: Cain now is picking up Colby, and here’s a kick to the stomach…and a forearm shot, backing him up against the ropes. And here’s an irish whip into the ropes now, Mayson coming back, ducks under a Cain back elbow off the far ropes…Mayson on his way back now, and Cain ducks under a clothesline and runs off the nearside himself…
The two men are running towards each other in the center of the ring as fast as they can.
Ambrose: OH MY! THEY BOTH MISS! COLBY WENT FOR THE SPEAR AND CAIN WENT FOR A FLYING FOREARM!
Both men tumble to the ground and pop right back up, Cain charges in and gets hit with a hip toss, and then an arm drag.
Jones: Mayson Colby came to play tonight.
Ambrose: And Paul Cain looks a little bewildered. Mayson off the ropes again now…
SLAP
Ambrose: And there’s Sean Sterling with a blind tag to the back of Mayson, and Colby just speared Cain and now he’s going for the cover! But he’s not the legal man!
The referee points at Sean Sterling, who smiles and waves at Colby, before coming in with a leg-drop on Cain and a cover himself.
1……….
Ambrose: A quick kickout by Cain!
Cain immediately sits up.
WACK!
Jones: Well…ouch.
Ambrose: Sterling with a wicked kick to the back of Cain! And now he’s running off the ropes…
Cain, who was sitting down, immediately springs to his feet and almost takes Sterling’s head off with a clothesline. Sterling rotated a couple times in mid air, causing the crowd to gasp.
Ambrose: WHAT A SHOT BY CAIN!
Cain is immediately on the smaller man with a rear chin lock, applying a lot of pressure.
Ambrose: Sterling trying to power his way back up to his feet, but it’s not a successful endeavor so far.
Indeed, Cain keeps cranking on the chinlock. Sterling reaches out towards Colby, trying to get his bitter rival to pull him towards the ropes and Mayson simply stares at him. Sterling begins to scream obscenities.
Jones: Well, someone’s not a team player.
Ambrose: Someone’s sense of dignity is not for sale!
Jones: Thanks, Captain America.
Finally, Sterling gets his way to his feet and goes for a reverse jawbreaker but after jumping up, Cain kind of catches him in mid air and brings him down hard into a modified atomic drop.
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Ambrose: Nice counter! Sterling holding his backside…AND HE’S GOING FOR SLAIN BY CAIN BUT STERLING SLIDES DOWN HIS BACK AND DIVES UNDER THE BOTTOM ROPE!
Sterling around the outside of the ring for a moment, trying to get his wits back about him. While on the floor, he runs into another one of the match’s participants.
Ambrose: And there’s Prince Pride! Throwing Sterling back into the ring!
Jones: Sterling has no friends around here, maybe you and him should hang out after the show, you can show him around.
Ambrose: Probably not.
Sterling yells something at Pride, but is grabbed by Cain from behind before he can get too far into his rant.
Ambrose: Back suplex by Paul Cain and a cover!
1……………
2…………………..
Ambrose: And there’s a kickout by the Second Coming!
Jones: He might not be the biggest man in this match…but he might be the toughest.
Ambrose: Well, you can argue that point with any one of these competitors…they all have shown incredible resolve in their time in FUSE.
Cain walks over and makes a reluctant tag in to Prince Pride, who steps in the ring slowly, getting right in Cain’s face for a moment before advancing to Sean Sterling who is just on his way up.
Ambrose: Here’s Pride spinning around…and there’s a discus punch! That really leveled Sterling. And now he drops an elbow on his man, and there’s another! It really has taken Sterling a little while to get out of the gate in this match-up.
Jones: Slow and steady wins the race. A lizard taught me that.
Ambrose: Don’t you mean a tortoise?
Jones: What kind of lame story would that be?
Ambrose: Pride picking up Sterling once again now…and there’s a kick to the stomach, and a fisherman suplex!
1…………….
2…………………..
Ambrose: And a kickout again by Sean! And Pride looks just a little frustrated here. He’s got Sean up again and here’s a HAAARD irish whip into the corner, and Prince following him in…and there’s a boot up by Sean! Catching Pride right in the face!
Pride stumbles backwards for a moment and then turns around just in time to see what Sean is about to do. Pride has the same idea.
Ambrose: OH MY! THE SUPERSTAR SUPERKICK AND THE JE T’AIME! BOTH MEN STRIKE THEIR OPPONENTS WITH THEIR SIGNATURE SUPERKICKS! AND THE TWO BIGGEST LONERS IN OUR COMPANY ARE DOWN!
The crowd is buzzing quite a bit as both Sterling and Cain are going nuts on their respective apron, wanting a tag.
Jones: The tag division might be on its way out, but this is shaping up to be a very interesting tag match-up.
Both men begin to stir, and eventually crawl.
Ambrose: Whoever can get the tag first will have a huge advantage in this match-up.
At first it seems that Sterling has the edge, as he is closer to his corner, but Pride seems to be gaining ground quickly in his pursuit of a tag.
Ambrose: Fans, this is going to be close.
Jones: Closer than your Mom when…(sigh) I got nothing.
SLAP
SLAP
RAAAAAAAAAH!
Ambrose: BOTH MEN MAKE THE TAG!
Two fresh men hit the ring in unison and charge towards each other in the middle of the ring.
Ambrose: Cain goes for a clothesline and Colby ducks under…both men off the far ropes, and now Cain ducks under a Colby clothesline! OH THERE’S A KNEE TO THE BACK ON COLBY BY PRINCE PRIDE! AND CAIN HAS COLBY! GOING FOR THE SLAIN BY CAIN AGAIN BUT MAYSON SLIDES DOWN HIS BACK! CAIN GOES FOR THE MULE KICK BUT MAYSON CATCHES HIS LEG BETWEEN HIS OWN AND SHOVES CAIN OVER ON HIS FACE!
Jones: I think I’m having a heart attack.
Ambrose: Mayson going for an elbow drop but Cain moves, both men up to their feet…Cain going for THE SLAIN BY CAIN AGAIN! AND AGAIN COLBY ROLLS OVER HIS BACK!
Cain turns around and blocks a right hand by Colby and hits a kick to the stomach, and then follows that up with a swinging neck breaker. Colby pops up pretty quickly after that, holding his neck and walks right into a shoulder.
Ambrose: And there’s a high impact move by Cain! A cover!
1……………
2………………………
Ambrose: AND THERE’S A SPRINGBOARD LEGDROP BY STERLING THAT BREAKS UP THE COVER!
Jones: You have to know it’s killing him to save Mayson Colby in this spot.
Cain pops up, angry as a hornet. He grabs Sterling by the hair, and Sterling begs off.
Ambrose: AND HERE’S A ROLL-UP FROM BEHIND BY MAYSON!
1……………..
2……………………..
Ambrose: AND PRINCE PRIDE BREAKS UP THE COUNT! HE KICKED COLBY RIGHT IN THE FACE!
Sterling runs off the far side ropes and springs off of Paul Cain’s back and hits Prince Pride with a flying leg lariat.
Ambrose: Well, the ref might lose control of this one. He’s trying to get Sterling to go back to his corner…
And while the referee does that, Prince Pride grabs something from his tights.
Jones: Well, this is as old school as Prince’s dad.
Prince grabs what looks like brass knuckles out of his tights.
Ambrose: Oh my goodness…HE JUST NAILED MAYSON IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD WITH THOSE BRASS KNUCKLES!
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Ambrose: AND THERE’S A SHOT RIGHT TO THE FACE OF PAUL CAIN WITH THE SAME KNUCKLES! MY GOD!
Prince steps over quickly and lays Cain on top of Colby and then bails out of the ring.
Jones: THIS PLAN IS PERFECT! Colby will lose, and Cain will be out of it so he can pin him right away!
Ambrose: Ref back on the job!
1……………………..
2………………………………
Ambrose: SEAN STERLING AGAIN! HE GOT THERE IN THE NICK OF TIME AND DRAGGED THE DEAD WEIGHT OF CAIN OFF OF MAYSON COLBY! And now he’s dragging Mayson back to his own corner!
Jones: See, these bad guys…they really got this thing figured out.
Ambrose: Sterling tags the lifeless arm of Colby, and immediately springs up to the top rope…I’m not sure what he’s going for here…SWANTON BOMB! HE CALLS THAT THE KAMIKAZE! SEAN STERLING WITH A FREAKISH JUMP ACROSS HALF THE RING!
1………………………..
2………………………………….
RAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Ambrose: KICKOUT BY CAIN! KICKOUT BY CAIN! WHERE IN THE HELL DID HE GET THE ENERGY TO DO THAT!
Jones: Roids!
Sean Sterling stands up to express his frustration with the situation, when he is struck in the back of the head by Prince Pride on the ring apron with a big forearm. Then Pride reaches down and tags Cain, who seems to be still dealing with the effects of the last few moves.
Ambrose: Pride hitting the ring now, immediantly he picks Sterling up…AND THERE’S A DRAGON SUPLEX! WHAT A MOVE BY PRIDE!
Upon getting up, Pride surveys the scene. There is a downed Sean Sterling, and Mayson Colby has not regained his feet on the apron yet either. He puts one hand in the air, as if to signal for the end.
Ambrose: Pride is stalking Sterling now…THIS COULD BE IT! THIS COULD BE THE RISING SUN!
Jones: Or he could be about to hand him a really interesting pamphlet. I’m not entirely certain.
Just as Pride is about to leap on the back of Sterling, he is spun around by his own partner.
RAAAAAAAAAAH!
Ambrose: SLAIN BY CAIN! SLAIN BY CAIN! PAUL CAIN OUT OF NOWHERE JUST NAILED HIS OWN PARTNER! THAT BRASS KNUCKLES SHOT WAS NOT EASILY FORGOTTEN!
Paul Cain is more than just a little animated after landing the move, he spits on Prince Pride, and talks a bit of trash right in his face.
Ambrose: And here’s Mayson Colby! He just blind sided Cain with a clothesline that sends Paul to the floor! And Sterling back up….and there’s a split legged moonsault right onto Prince!
1…………………….
2………………………………
Cain reaches in the ring to grab Prince’s foot, suddenly realizing what he had ultimately done. But he’s too late.
Ambrose: AND WE’RE ONE-ON-ONE!
DING!
DING!
DING!
SKYE: The winner of the first part of our match…MAYSON COLBY AND SEAN STERLING!
Cain looks angry at a lot of people at this moment in time.
Ambrose: What a finish! Mayson Colby is dumping Pride’s body out of the ring, and we are getting ready to start…AND STERLING IS NOT WAITING! HE JUST A SPINNING HEEL KICK TO THE BACK OF MAYSON AND COLBY JUST FELL FACE FIRST INTO THE MIDDLE TURNBUCKLE!
DING!
DING!
DING!
Ambrose: And here we go! Colby sitting on the ground now…and Sterling getting a running head of steam now and…
WHACK!
Ambrose: Ugh.
Jones: I believe that’s called…Pardon the Blood.
Ambrose: Nothing fancy about that, he just kicked Colby in the face.
Sterling seems to be getting a second wind here. He hits a split legged moonsault on Mayson, the same move that pinned Pride.
Ambrose: And here’s a cover!
1……………….
2…………………….
Ambrose: KICKOUT! AND COLBY IS STILL ALIVE!
Jones: This match has no shortage of drama.
Upon getting back to his feet Sterling drops a quick legdrop on Colby, followed by another, followed by another, followed by yet another.
Ambrose: Look at the determination on the face of Sterling…he wants this shot, and he wants it bad. Another cover!
1……………..
2……………………..
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Ambrose: ANOTHER KICKOUT! AND STERLING IS NOT HAPPY!
“COLBY!”
“COLBY!”
“COLBY!”
“COLBY!”
“COLBY!”
“COLBY!”
Ambrose: The crowd is on their feet! Meanwhile Prince Pride and Paul Cain are exchanging blows on the ramp! Security is trying to pull them apart!
Sterling quickly gets Mayson back to his feet, only to drop him immediately after with a falling reverse DDT.
Jones: Sterling has the same look on his face that I usually do at the DMV. Except he’s not going to follow it up by taking a dump on the floor until he gets his spot in line.
Ambrose: That’s disgusting.
Jones: I know, how could they not let me to the front automatically anyway!
Ambrose: Looks like Sterling is going to the top…
The crowd becomes anxious as they know he is capable of a lot of things from this spot.
Ambrose: Hang on to your seats, fans!
Sterling leaps. Flash bulbs pop.
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
Ambrose: HE MISSED! HE MISSED! THAT’S HIS SIGNATURE CORKSCREW SHOOTING STAR PRESS! MAYSON MOVED! MAYSON MOVED!
The crowd cheers emphatically for Colby who slowly makes his way to his feet, about the same time Sterling does.
WACK!
Ambrose: OH MY! AND STERLING TAKES MAYSON RIGHT BACK DOWN TO THE GROUND AGAIN! THIS TIME WITH A RUNNING ENZEGURI!
1……………
2……………………….
Ambrose: AAAAAAAAAND…KICKOUT!
RAAAAAAAAAH!
At this point, Sterling just starts pounding the mat with his hands out of frustration. He starts lobbying to the referee, slapping his hands together, signifying what he thought was a slow count.
Jones: I think he might have to just cut Mayson’s head off in order to win this match.
Sterling finally regains his composure and turns back towards a prone Mayson Colby. He bends over to pick him up once again, but is suddenly surprised.
Ambrose: SMALL PACKAGE! COLBY WITH A SMALL PACKAGE!
1…………..
2………………………
Ambrose: HE GOT HIM! HE GOT HIM!
DING!
DING!
DING!
Ambrose: MAYSON COLBY! MAYSON COLBY HAS DONE IT! RUNNING ON PURE INSTINCT! MY GOD WHAT A MATCH!
Sean Sterling is left sitting alone in the center of the ring, shocked, as Mayson Colby rolls out of the ring, followed by the referee.
Jones: Well, didn’t see that coming.
Ambrose: MAYSON COLBY WILL TAKE ON JASON CRUISE NEXT WEEK FOR THE LIVEWIRE TITLE!
After getting his hand raised on the floor, Mayson Colby simply collapses.
Ambrose: Fans, we’ll be back in a sec!
Reborn, Rebranding, Revenge
Starring:Smitty T Duluth, Clinton Sage, Lane Stevens, Jonathan Rhine, Aimz
Ambrose: Well folks, as you can see we’re coming to a close on the FUSE careers of Hunter Jones, and myself.
Jones: I’ll still be around….IN YOUR NIGHTMARES!
Ambrose: It’s been no secret this past week that Riley Black will be leaving FUSE, and the contracts held underneath of him will be taken out the door as well. I just want to point out that while usually morally offensive and odorifically challenging, working next to Hunter Jones for these past few years in front of all of you has been a blessing.
Jones: And I would like to thank Jenna Jameson for all those nights where I had too much stress bottled up, and it just needed to be shot all over the computer monitor.
Ambrose: Must you ruin a touching, heartfelt moment?
Jones: …but that’s what I was talking about. Touching!
Ambrose: Regardless, it’s been fun ladies and gentlemen. I’m sure we’ll see each other in the future somewhere down the line, but right now we’re going to be treated to our commissioner, Smitty T. Duluth, making some major announcements about the future of FUSE Wrestling.
Jones: A future without Hunter Jones is no future at all!
Ambrose: It’s a less vulgar future, that’s for sure.
“Girls, Girls, Girls” erupts over the PA system, causing the crowd to explode into a chant for their beloved commissioner, Smitty T Duluth.
”SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY!”
”S – T – D! S – T – D! S – T – D!”
”SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY!”
Stepping out from beneath the FUSEWire, clad head to toe in a sharp pin-stripe suit is none other than the man of the hour, Smitty Duluth. His blonde-highlighted hair is pulled back into a semi-businesslike ponytail, and the smile across his face can be seen from space.
To his rear, a large bald man steps out through the curtains. Tree trunks for legs. A pointy beard extending half a foot off of the tip of his chin, and nothing but a stare of seriousness as he follows the commissioner of FUSE down to the ring.
Ambrose: Who the hell is that?
Jones: He looks like the bastard lovechild of Tank Abbot and an actual World War II tank! HIDE THE PRISONERS OF WAR! Bald Hitler is back!
Finally reaching the ring, the gigantic bald man ascends the steps first, quickly holding open the ropes for STD, and both men make their way to the center of the ring rather quickly. Around them, the fans continue to chant and cheer. Perhaps it was Mayson Colby stealing away a victory from Sean Sterling, but tonight the fans are pumped.
PUMPED.
Pulling a microphone out of his jacket pocket, STD waves to the crowd, a whimsical-yet-serious smile crossing his face as he nods the cheers down to silence.
Duluth: I wouldn’t have asked for a better city on earth to make such a great announcement than Madison, Wisconsin!
”RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Jones: Cheap.
Ambrose: But brilliant.
Duluth: As you can see by the size of the crowd in the arena, and the fact that FUSE actually has pyrotechnics…things are changing around here. So let’s get to the short of it. You’ve cheered for me for the last year as the commissioner of FUSE Wrestling, and I’ve loved you for it. Each and every one of you. Through destroyed stripper poles and silly Clinton Sage staring contests, you’ve stood by my side as we’ve traveled around this great country…
”RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Duluth: Tonight, it gives me great pleasure to announce that the journey will continue. With a bigger budget. With a new head of security, who is standing behind me right now, Mr Alan Branch. And most importantly…with a new owner and CEO of FUSE Wrestling…ME!
Jones: What! How can they let this idiot have the keys!
Ambrose: This is great news for FUSE, folks, as Riley Black didn’t seem to have a clue as to what he was doing!
”SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY!”
”S – T – D! S – T – D! S – T – D!”
”SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY!”
Smitty stands there, opening his arms and embracing the reaction. He wouldn’t look more at home unless he had two stripper poles installed inside the ring, and had a feathered boa wrapped around his neck.
Duluth: But with flying panties of change, some things don’t always go how you expected them to. As many of you have heard because of those marvelous internet dirt-sheets, FUSE Wrestling is losing nearly 90% of it’s staff. I compromise 10% of the staff simply because I want to. So, what I’d like from everyone here is one final round of applause for the current referee staff, the current security staff, and our beloved announcers Scott Ambrose and Hunter Jones!
”RRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”
The camera jumps to the two announcers, where Ambrose is blinking back a tear of joy while Hunter Jones is smiling like a retard. Why? We don’t know.
Duluth: You two have been around longer than any roster member, and FUSE loves you. But like I said, thigns have to change and I’ve gone out on a limb to find you two replacements, and it hasn’t been a very fun search, but I think I like what I’ve found. Dave, come on out here!
Stepping out from behind the curtain is none other than wrestling legend Dave Gibson, causing the crowd to once again roar to life with approval. Dressed professionally rather than in wrestling tights, Dave Gibson smiles and claps hands with the fans.
Duluth: Our play-by-play will once again be carried by in ring expertise, courtesy of wrestling legend Dave Gibson! And replacing Hunter Jones on the offensive and inadequate knowledge, will be none other than former National Wrestling Council color man, Eugene Ware!
Creeping out from behind the curtains, unsure of where he is, is Eugene Ware. He is dressed in a black t-shirt tuxedo print, and is holding a pink flower, which he proceeds to give to a young girl in the front row.
Then he yanks it away.
”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Jones: That was genius!
Ambrose: Eugene Ware, everyone. Good luck with that.
Jones: His shirt is amazing. It must’ve cost thousands of dollars!
With both future announcers standing at ringside, Smitty T. Duluth paces around the ring, amping himself up. Clearly he’s having a good time with this, and amid all the changes, he hasn’t lost the casual fans in all the confusion. This makes STD happy. Just like his strippers.
Duluth: FUSE is entering a new era, and as a result, that means it is also leaving an era. When the credits roll tonight, you will have watched the last edition of Killzone for quite some time. It was my idea to help usher FUSE into it’s third era by causing an uproar, if you will. Creating a little bit of excitement for you, the fans.
”SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY!”
”S – T – D! S – T – D! S – T – D!”
”SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY, SMIT-TY!”
Duluth: And as you saw earlier tonight, things are changing. The promo for Seymour Almasy was only the beginning. Next week, we will be debuting quite a few new faces around these ring ropes, and to Main Event the very first edition of UPROAR…
”RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!”
Jones: What is an uproar?
Ambrose: It’s FUSE’s new flagship program! The Killzone Era is ending tonight, and the UPROAR era is beginning next week! This is nothing but revolutionary for FUSE Wrestling!
Jones: And guess what? We aren’t going to be a part of it.
Ambrose: Not as announcers, but as fans! And I can live with that.
Jones: Where am I supposed to steal towels from, now?
Duluth: …I have in my hands the contract for a tag team match between Clinton Sage and Lane Stevens…
”BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Duluth: …squaring off against the team of Jonathan Rhine and Amy ‘Aimz’ Campbell!
”RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Ambrose: MY GOODNESS FOLKS! The Affliction vs The Highwaymen! Right here on…ummm.
Jones: Exactly.
Ambrose: Next week on UPROAR! Sage, Stevens, Rhine, and Aimz! Let the stable wars begin!
Duluth: So what I’d like right now is for both Jonathan Rhine and Amy to come on out here. I know you two have been itching to get your paws on that bastard Lane Stevens and the daughter-stealer, Clinton Sage. So, come on out and ink your names onto this paper and next week they’re yours!
And suddenly, Johnny Cash’s voice silences the audience for only a moment, before they once again roar to life.
# I was a highwayman. Along the coach roads I did ride #
# With sword and pistol by my side… #
Stepping out from behind the curtain to nothing short of a world-record for crowd cheering is both Jonathan Rhine, holding the FUSE Custom Chaos Championship high above his head, and next to him, tossing back her red hair and slapping hands with the audience, Amy Campbell.
Both Aimz and Rhine quickly make their way to the ring, passing by both of the new FUSE announcers. Dave Gibson nods his head in approval at Jonathan Rhine, while Eugene Ware straightens the printed-on tie of his t-shirt and stares at Aimz with lust-filled eyes.
He even licks his lips.
Duluth: This is a glorious night, especially for you two. Amy, go ahead and put your name on the dotted line. There is something I want to say to Jonathan here, something that is very important.
As Aimz grabs the contract and scribbles her name on it, STD grabs Jonathan Rhine and pulls him close. He cups Jonathan’s head between his hands, like a loving father. Even Smitty’s eyes have found sort of a loving, adoration-filled stare onto the FUSE superstar.
Duluth: You’ve done so much in such a little time. I don’t think there has ever been a superstar this-side of Smitty Duluth that has risen so quickly, and been so loved by the fans. And by administration. You’re providing direction where Clinton Sage and Lane Stevens are trying to provide anarchy.
”RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Duluth: And I just wanted to show you how I, Smitty T. Duluth, thanks you.You’ve been wrestling in those crazy, stipulation filled matches, putting your body on the line when you could at one quick moment cut this brilliant career of your short. So…kiss the Custom Chaos Championship goodbye, Jonathan.
”*GASP*”
Duluth: …and say hello to the Gateway Championship. No longer will you be forced to wrestle in gimmicky matches that could end your career, instead, you’ll be defending a belt that is the true stepping stone to the Universal Championship. A path you have already taken, and a standard you have already set for this very belt. Jonathan Rhine, you are now the FUSE Gateway Champion!
“
RHINE RHINE RHINE!”
Duluth: Now head on over and sign your name alongside Amy’s, so you can square off against that bastard Clinton Sage. The man who stole my beloved Michele –
“
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Ambrose: I knew it couldn’t last too long, folks! Clinton Sage and Lane Stevens have decided to interrupt what is turning out to be one of the top defining moments in FUSE History!
Jumping out from behind the curtains is Lane Stevens, clad in a black T-shirt with bright red lettering that simply reads “SHE AIMZ TO PLEASE!” and has a giant red arrow pointing down towards his crotch.
Slowly stalking behind him, a smirk across his face, is none other than the FUSE Universal Champion himself, Clinton Sage.
As both members of The Affliction step past the new FUSE announcers, Dave Gibson stares on in disgust at the two pinnacles of asshole in FUSE, while Eugene Ware drops to his knees and starts bowing and chanting ‘I’m not worth, I’m not worthy’ at the top of his lungs.
Jones: HE STOLE MY IDEA! WHERE DOES HE GET THOSE WONDERFUL IDEAS!?!?
Ambrose: Assholes R Us.
Jones: Speak for yourself, I’m no asshole.
Hopping up to the mat, Lane Stevens sits on the middle ring rope and holds it open as ‘The Seventh Sin’ steps between them, still brandishing the Universal Championship over one shoulder, and a huge chip on the other.
Duluth: Don’t act as if you were interrupting anything, boys. I was going to invite you both out here anyhow.
And with that, Smitty T Duluth claps his hands twice.
Jones: CLAP OFF! THE CLAPPER!
Pouring out from the entranceway, rushing down the aisle towards the ring, is an army of men in black FUSE Security shirts. Inside the ring, Alan Branch produces a whistle from beneath his shirt and blows it at the top of his lungs, doing so, the security force splits into two lines, which bisect the ring.
One line facing Lane Stevens and Clinton Sage, the other facing Jonathan Rhine and Aimz.
Duluth: You might have stolen the heart of my little Michele, Clinton, but I’ve got brains and tactics that you aren’t prepared for. That
nobody is prepared for. As you can see, our new Head of Security – Mr Alan Branch for those like Clinton who weren’t listening – has assembled a team that will run a much tighter ship. Please pass Mr Sage and Mr Stevens the contract for next weeks tag team main event…
One of the security members snatches the contract out of Jonathan Rhine’s hands, who doesn’t even notice because his gaze is locked on Clinton Sage. Sage winks back, before flicking the middle finger towards Rhine and his newly rebranded championship.
Passing the contract like a bucket of sand in hurricane country, it files its way down to Clinton Sage. Snatching it, never taking his eyes off of Jonathan Rhine, Clinton Sage signs the contract using the back of one of the new security members, jabbing the pen especially hard while doing so.
Lane Stevens takes the contract and wipes his ass with it, effectively signing it. Nobody contests this.
Duluth: And there you have it, folks. Next week on FUSE’s first edition of UPROAR, announced by none other than Dave Gibson and Eugene Ware…the very first meeting of The Affliction and The Highwaymen!
“
RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Duluth: And let me just leave you four with a little bit of a warning, more for Lane and Clinton than anyone else. I might have my flighty moments. I might love stripper poles. Hell, I even love a good N’Sync CD. But now I’m the boss, and I make the matches and I sign the checks.
Turning towards Sage, pointing through the army of security that is making any conflict impossible, Smitty T. Duluth winks, before tossing his hair back non-chalantly.
Duluth: I’m your boss. And as long as you’re dating my little daughter, things aren’t going to be easy for you. Keep her safe, and you’ll earn some clemency. The minute she comes crying to me about how you mistreated her is the day you never, ever, want to arrive. There have been villains swimming in these waters since you two arrived, but now there are heroes banding together. I don’t think you two ever thought this day would arrive…
Clinton Sage’s gaze darts back between Smitty and Jonathan Rhine. Back and forth. And then he spits down on the canvas at the center of the ring, and holds his FUSE Unviersal Championship up high.
“
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Across the ring, Jonathan Rhine knows what to do. He grabs the FUSE Gateway Championship and thrusts it into the air as well.
”RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Ambrose: Next week on UPROAR, it’s Clinton Sage and Lane Stevens against Jonathan Rhine and Aimz! WHAT A SHOW! IT’S BEEN A PLEASURE FOLKS!
