• Young Lion's Cup Rd 1
• Joshua Kosidlo
• versus
• VARGA
• versus
• Raymond Pierce

Gibson: So, we’re ready for our triple threat match of the Young Lion’s Cup, and it’s going to be…

Ware: SILENCE.

Gibson: Excuse me?

Ware: This is a historic moment. We must give it the respect it deserves.

Gibson: You’re right, the first annual YLC is a very…

Ware: NO.

There’s a few seconds of dear air as the camera pans over the excited fans.

Gibson: I’m sorry, I…

Ware: No apologizing. No speaking. Only reveling. Because…

And it’s on cue. Why wouldn’t it be?

The lights go out. And we’re going to go a little old school with this one.

Ware: HE.

[P]

Ware: IS.

[R]

Ware: HERE.

[P]

And pyro explodes. You might not know this man, but if you did, you’d be out of your chair right now, whether with hands in the air or booing at the top of your lungs.

Myers: THIS MATCH IS A TRIPLE THREAT AND IS PART OF THE YOUNG LION’S TOURAMENT!

No one appears at the ramp. He’s waited for so many years, he figures he can wait a few more seconds.

Myers: IIIIIINTRODUUUUCING FIRST! Ha…

But suddenly the microphone is cut off, as a man grabs the microphone from Myers’ hands and shakes his head. We’re not just leaving this up to the generic man. No, sir. This is a job for Joe Bob Smith.

Ware: JOE BOB! YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A RIVAL, BUT TONIGHT I LOVE YOU LIKE A BROTHER.

Joe Bob Smith: HAAAAILIIING FROM. WOMEN’S MOST LUCRATIVE FANTASIES.

And the curtain flickers. Old NWC fans (yes, they exist, one of them updates the FUSE website) flash their cameras in anticipation.

Joe Bob Smith: WEIGHING IN AT THE PERFECT WEIGHT OF TWO HUNDRED AND [mumble] POUNDS.

Ware: I WISH I COULD GET DOWN TO THAT WEIGHT!

Gibson: Oh, Lord.

Joe Bob Smith: He’s a NINE-TIME NWC WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION…HE. IS.

Ware: PERFECT!

Joe Bob Smith: PERFECT!

Ware: RAYMOND!

Joe Bob Smith: RAYMOND!

Ware: PIERCE!

Joe Bob Smith: PIERCE!

And he appears.

Drawing back the curtain, “Perfect” Raymond Pierce stares at the crowd, and his smile is gleaming. He’s never left. He’s always been here. After tonight, he’ll be here as a FUSE legend.

He makes his slow walk to the ring.

Ware: I’m going to cry, Dave. I’m actually going to cry all over my suit.

Gibson: You’re not wearing a suit.

Ware: And now you’re going to tell me Ray Pierce didn’t win 9 World Championships.

Gibson: Actually, I researched that, and…

Ware: SILENCE THOSE BEAUTIFUL YET BLASPHEMOUS LIPS!

Raymond Pierce spins midway to the ring, taking in the atmosphere. Without much more banter or announcing, Pierce uses the steps to climb into the ring, then raises his arms in a glorious moment.

He is back, and the world will never be the same.

Ware: OH MY GOD I’VE NEARLY DIED FROM INEXPLICABLE JOY AND WE STILL HAVE TWO MORE WRESTLERS COMING.

Gibson: Well, you won’t likely like them nearly as much.

Ware: Well, that’s good.

Video clips of VARGA beating up people throughout his career begin playing on the FUSEWire. The intro to ‘Where I Stand' by Days of the New begins playing over the loud speakers.

Myers: Hailing from West Yellowstone, Montana but currently residing in hos hometown of Las Vegas, Nevada during the winter months. He stands at six feet one inch and weighs in at two hundred and thirty-five pounds! This is "The Arctic Wolf," wrestling's loose cannon, this is VARGA!

Some of us play life
Like a board game
It's new
Fun

And you play it
With people
There's a time
You get tired

And you put it away
Then one day
You get it out
And the pieces are broken

Ware: Varga was an angel of death in the NWC. It really improved his chances of winning. I promise.

VARGA then comes out wearing all white long tights (that have barely visbile white pictures of an Arctic Wolf on both legs) with white kneepads and the boots to match. His head is covered by the white hood of his ring jacket. On the back of the jacket is a picture of an Arctic Wolf with a full moon in the background. He has a scowl on his face as he comes down to the ring.

Self-discipline
I want to feel before you
Take it slow
Feel before you, yeah

VARGA ignores the crowd's taunts just to make them madder as he continues to the ring.

That's where I stand
Where I stand
Where I stand
Where I stand

VARGA strolls casually to the ring and climbs in with an ice cold look on his face. He then takes the hood down and glares out at the crowd looking almost half crazed. His steel blue eyes look around for a moment before he takes off his ring jacket. He has on white elbowpads and is revealed to have taped wrists as well underneath his jacket. He hands the jacket to a ringside attendant and then turns around ready to kick some ass.

Gibson: Two-thirds of the way done, and now we’re just waiting on…

The Paladin.

The Fusewire goes black, two golden horns appear on the screen draped with a black banner. They play a short heralding tune, and then is replaced with…

"Unholy Confessions" by Avenged Sevenfold Explodes through the arena, as a single white spotlight focuses on the entrance. A voice comes over the PA system, as the intro continues on.

Voice: Once in every generation a warrior is born destined for greatness. Destined to shine light where there is only dark. These warriors are Paragons of chivalry and remain Heroic Champions... These warriors, are Paladins.

Suddenly from behind the curtain Joshua Kosidlo erupts, as gold pyro explode around the entrance, sending large towers into the air. Kosidlo stands at the top of the stage, raising both arms high into the air, then he drops them to his side quickly in a determined manner, causing a second set of white pyro to explode in front of him.

Myers: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred seventy-five pounds, he hails from Rome, New York, “The Paladin” Joshua Kosssidddddlllloooo!

'I'll try,' she said as he walked away.
'Try not to lose you.'
Two vibrant hearts could change.
Nothing tears the being more than deception,
unmasked fear.
'I'll be here waiting' tested and secure.

Ware: Here he is, the man of alignment Chaotic Suck.

Gibson: He is also a number one contender to the Livewire Title, Eugene.

Ware: I’m more concerned with the Chaotic Suck part.

Joshua erupts through the remnants of smoke, and flecks of white pyro jogging toward the ring, stopping to slap hands with all the little kids, and die hard fans. Those who know who he is get into him, and the rest just gratefully slap the hand of a professional wrestler.

Nothing hurts my world,
just affects the ones around me
When sin's deep in my blood,
you'll be the one to fall.

Kosidlo gets to the ring and stands there for a moment looking around. Slowly he ascends the steps and stands on the apron facing the entranceway. He wraps both forearms and biceps around the top rope. He leans back on the ropes, gazing out at the audience, a boyish grin across his face.

I wish I could be the one,
the one who won't care at all
But being the one on the stand,
I know the way to go, no one's guiding me.
When time soaked with blood turns its back,
I know it's hard to fall.
Confided in me was your heart
I know it's hurting you, but it's killing me.

Kosidlo unravels his arms from the top rope, and pivots toward the ring, hopping over the top rope and landing in the ring. He runs to the far corner and hops up onto the second rope pointing out at various fans before hopping back down and turning to face his opponent. Avenged Sevwnfold fades out and leaves Joshua ready to battle.

Gibson: All three men are in. The Young Lion’s Cup Quarterfinal starts now!

DING! DING! DING!

Ware: RAY PIERCE IS RAISING HIS HAND FOR A PUNCH! I FEEL FAINT!

Joshua Kosidlo sees this motion and acts how anyone not enamored by Ray Pierce’s brilliance would do.

[*WHAM!*]

Gibson: MONSTROUS CLOTHESLINE TO PIERCE!

Ware: You mean BY Pierce! He took the Paladin’s head off!

Gibson: Uh, no, he didn’t.

Ware: Now he’s stomping on Kosidlo!

Gibson: Actually, it’s the other way around.

Kosidlo continues to stomp on Pierce before VARGA rushes at Kosidlo from behind. Luckily, The Paladin senses it and hits a back elbow, falling VARGA. The fans give a small cheer.

Gibson: Joshua Kosidlo the only man standing now, and he brings VARGA to his feet, hitting him with a punch, and…

Ware: NEVER TURN YOUR BACK ON RAYMOND PIERCE!

Gibson: OH! Pierce with a huge blow to the back of Kosidlo. And now he clotheslines VARGA, and HE is the only man standing!

Ware: THIS IS THE MAN! HE IS BACK! HE IS BEAUTIFUL! AND IF JONATHAN RHINE DOESN’T FORFEIT THE TITLE IN THREE MINUTES, GLOBAL WARMING WILL HAPPEN QUICKER THAN IT’S SUPPOSED TO!

Gibson: You’re a proponent of Global Warming, Eugene?

Ware: AL GORE PAID FOR ME AT DAVE AND BUSTERS ONCE.

Gibson: And now Pierce is going to capitalize…wait, no. What’s he doing?

Ware: He’s, uh…he’s just trying to expel all the greatness from his body…

Gibson: HE’S OUT OF SHAPE! He’s panting after that clothesline! It looks like he’s too tired to go on!

Ware: That’s simply not true!

Gibson: Kosidlo is up, and he sees Pierce looking winded. He grabs the former NWC Legend and whips him into the ropes, and waits for him to come back…sit-out slam from the Paladin! And he’s going for the first cover of the night!

ONE! “ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE!”

TWO! “TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

TH… “THREEEEEEEEEE-AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!”

Gibson: And VARGA with the break-up! Kosidlo has no time to react, as VARGA has lifted him up and has trapped him into the corner, sending some kicks and punches! And now he has exposed Kosidlo’s chest…we know what’s coming next.

Ware: RAY PIERCE WITH THE KNIFE-EDGE CHOPS!

Gibson: If by Ray Pierce you mean VARGA.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Gibson: Fierce chop from VARGA, and he’s not done yet!

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Gibson: Now VARGA is going to whip Kosidlo to the other side…but Pierce is waiting…hits Kosidlo with a low blow! Pierce raises his hands high…but here comes VARGA! VARGA takes him down with a T-Bone Suplex, and Pierce is out and covered again!

ONE! “ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEE!”

TWO! “TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

THRE… “THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-AAAWWWWWWWW!”

Gibson: No, Pierce kicks out, but he’s not doing well thus far in this match. He looks slow, out of shape, and if this is how the NWC legends were, Ware, I’d hate to see the jobbers.

Ware: You are seeing one of the jobbers. VARGA, remember?

Gibson: So why were you so high on that place?

Ware: BECAUSE RAY PIERCE IS KING OF THE SCHOOL BOY ROLLUP!

Gibson: Wow, Pierce caught VARGA out of nowhere with it, he was too busy arguing with the ref on the count! Cover!

ONE! “ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEE!”

TWO! “TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

THR… “THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-RAAAAAAAAH!”

Gibson: No, VARGA kicks out, but Pierce nearly stole it away!

Ware: He…He’s a NINJA.

Gibson: He most certainly is not. VARGA bounces up…flying spinning-leg lariat! And Pierce is on his back AGAIN! Kosidlo is up, but VARGA grabs him and hits a BIG STO, falling the Livewire #1 Contender! And VARGA is yelling to the heavens now!

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Ware: I’d normally be impressed. But BRILLIANCE is in the ring!

Gibson: Well, Brilliance is getting to his feet very slowly, and now VARGA is on top of him, and he whips him to the opposite side…and Pierce slides out of the ring! What cowardice!

Ware: BRILLIANCE IS OUT OF THE RING!

Gibson: That’s not his new name…VARGA sees Pierce outside of the ring, and…oh no!

*WHAMMM!!!*

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Gibson: That was…wow, let’s check the replay!

AT&T Replay

Pierce was shaking his head, consulting with Joe Bob Smith about the match so far, when VARGA ran towards the turnbuckle post, leapt up to the top, and walked across the ring ropes in a balancing act before launching into a dropkick, hitting one leg into eah chest. Joe Bob Smith merely falls, but Pierce – Pierce hits the barricade and flips over it, crashing onto the concrete below.

Gibson: What a big move by VARGA, and both Joe Bob Smith and Raymond Pierce are out!

Ware: BRILLIANCE IS IN THE STANDS!

Gibson: Stop it. Kosidlo is up again, and he sees VARGA on the outside…wait…no!

Ware: COPIER!

Gibson: Kosidlo lays VARGA out with a cross body that sends the two to the ground, and Kosidlo rolls into Joe Bob Smith, who is already looking worse for wear in his first managerial appearance in many years.

Ware: JOE BOB! IT’S OKAY, DON’T GO INTO THE LIGHT! I KNOW HYUK SUH KIM SAYS THERE’S BITCHES TO DANCE WITH THERE, BUT HE’S WRONG! THERE’S ONLY DOOM AND DESPAIR!

Gibson: You done?

Ware: Only until you say something about Ray Pierce again.

Gibson: Fair enough. It looks now as if Pierce…

Ware: BRILLIANCE!

Gibson: …is climbing over the barricade now, and he dusts himself off and views the carnage…time to take advantage! He grabs VARGA and rolls him into the ring…oh, man, he’s ridiculous! He’s going for a cover! AND HIS LEGS ARE ON THE ROPES, NO!

Ware: Yeah, you tell those ropes!

ONE! “ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEE!”

TWO! “TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

TH… “THREEEEEEEEE-RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Gibson: Kick-out!

[The fans aren’t cheering so much for VARGA as they are against Pierce. Even though he’s new to most people, it’s easy to see they won’t like him much.]

Gibson: He tried using the ropes to get the victory, but couldn’t do it! VARGA powered out, and now…OOH, VARGA just hit Pierce with a jawbreaker, and…

*CLANG!*

Gibson: Pierce is out of the ring again! And Kosidlo is sliding in! VARGA punches, but The Paladin blocks! Now he grabs the head of VARGA…BOTTOM OF REALITY! VARGA IS OUT, COVER!

ONE! “ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEE!”

TWO! “TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

THREE… “THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-BOOOOOOOO!”

Gibson: NO! VARGA’s leg is on the rope, and the ref calls for the break! Kosidlo almost had it!

Ware: Come on, Ray! Get in there!

Gibson: Kosidlo pulls VARGA up to his feet, whips him into the ropes…VARGA reverses, waiting for the back drop…but Kosidlo kicks him in the chest, sending him shooting up! Kosidlo grabs him…T-Bone Suplex!

Ware: Didn’t we already see one of those?

Gibson: Kosidlo is posturing now, he sees the next round! He’s got a shot in this thing, and the fans agree, hear that cheer!

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Ware: PIERCE DOESN’T AGREE!

Gibson: Pierce from behind with an axe handle, but Kosidlo isn’t fazed! He punches Pierce, and…knocks him out?

Ware: CHECK HIS KNUCKLES, REF! HE HAS A FOREIGN OBJECT!

Gibson: Even Kosidlo looks a little confused. He looks down at Pierce, checking on him…and here comes VARGA! VARGA grabs Kosidlo and turns him around…SCHWEIN REDLINE! SCHWEIN REDLINE ON KOSIDLO, AND VARGA MIGHT HAVE THIS WON!

Ware: Why’s he going over to Pierce? Why doesn’t he just end this match already?

Gibson: I think he wants to make sure Pierce isn’t going to break it up like last time, he’s getting Pierce ready for his own Schwein Red…no! Pierce slips over his back, and he bounces on the ropes, VARGA is waiting…

*SMEK!*

Gibson: MY GOD, WHAT A KICK! RAY PIERCE FINALLY MOUNTED SOME OFFENSE!

Ware: WHAT DO YOU MEAN FINALLY?

Gibson: VARGA is out, and Pierce is in the ring! He’s now celebrating like he won the Olympics! And look at Joe Bob Smith!

Ware: THOSE ARE TEARS OF JOY! WE’RE BOTH SO PROUD OF HIM! RAYMOND PIERCE IS BACK!

Gibson: Maybe Pierce should stop celebrating and turn around…

Ware: NO! RAY!

Raymond, unfortunately, does turn around, and he sees Joshua Kosidlo there, staring at him oddly. He then, of course, grabs Pierce.

*WHAMMMMM!!!!*

Gibson: KOSIDLO DRIVER ’07! KOSIDLO DRIVER ’07! IT’S OVER!

ONE! “ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNEEE!”

TWO! “TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

THREE! “THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

DING! DING! DING!

Myers: YOOOOOOURRR WIIIIIIIIINNERRRRRRRRRRR…JOOOOOOSHUAAAAAAA KOSIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Gibson: Well, your friend put up an…interesting challenge, but Joshua Kosidlo was able to overcome him and VARGA, and he moves on to the next round.

Ware: RECOUNT! CONSPIRACY! MULLIGAN! NO, RAYMOND, SAY IT AIN’T SO!

• Young Lion's Cup Rd 1
• Duncan Drake
• versus
• Jaiden Bridden
• versus
• Itachi

Gibson: God. Dammit. It's that time, isn't it?

Ware: It's becoming my favorite time of the night!

Jason Myers stands in the middle of the ring, looking chic and classy.

Myers: The following first-round YOUNG LIONS tournament match is scheduled for ONE FALL!

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Myers: Introducing first!

Do you think that FUSE has a guy in charge of flipping the lights on and off, or do you think they have a computer to do it for them? Because that's an awful lot of on and off and on and off and on and --

FWASH!

The FUSEWire gets bright with the sun, light coming off it in waves. Stars line the street, each imprinted with a name in gold. There's Chris Rock! There's Christopher Reeve! Did you know those stars were next to each other? Do you know where we are? It's a walk of fame and it's in --

Freeze frame. A typewriter bangs out words as thrumming guitars begin Chevelle's "I Get It."

HOLLYWOOD

We fired the person who spelled it wrong at the pay-per-view.

So you say you're ignored
As it is
Well give us your sad, sad trip

Myers: He is the self-proclaimed fourth number-one contender to the LiveWire Championship!

Gibson: But he lost the battle royal at Defiance!

Ware: Only because Elliott Rollins cheated by being a better wrestler!

SKEEEEEEV-BOOOOOOM!!!!!
SKEEEEEEV-BOOOOOOM!!!!!
SKEEEEEEV-BOOOOOOM!!!!!

Golden and red fireworks slide down to the entranceway. The sound is titanic and booming and thunderous and a lot of other synonyms for "loud" that we can't be bothered to look up.

In the wake of the explosions, the message has been changed again, as at Defiance.

DUNCAN DRAKE SECRETLY HAS A BYE TO ROUND TWO - SORRY

You're right - I get it
It all makes sense - you're the perfect person
So right - so wrong
Let's all live in your imaginary life

Myers: Hailing from Palm Desert, California! He stands six feet, two inches tall and weighed in this evening at two hundred thirty-six pounds!

Ware: Oh my god he gained weight, Gibbo! Binge and purge, Duncan! Binge and purge!

Gibson: It's a POUND, Eugene!

A feminine silhouette appears in the entranceway, hip cocked, hand placed on it.

Assumed is whether
We're right or wrong
We're doomed, and there's plenty for all

Ware: Ooh, ooh, here she comes! Here she comes! I wonder who she'll be wearing!

Myers: To be accompanied to the ringside area by the Belle of the Ball, MacKenzie Malone! (squinting at the card in his hand) Tonight wearing an Anna Sui original!

Gibson: This woman is... I think she's going to kill someone someday, Eugene. And she'll do it because it's FUN.

Ware: I know. It's GREAT!

MacKenzie's outfit is probably best described as "punked-out leather schoolgirl." The skirt should be plaid, but is snakeskin; it keeps to the same checkerboard pattern, though. The vest is there, a navy blue thing that's a little more dangerously cut than any private school would give to its students, and the white blouse underneath is probably there (there are flashes of white under the blue) but it's unbuttoned enough that it basically doesn't matter. She is wearing a tie, however, a black kerchief loosely bound around her neck. Her trademark tar-black hair is loose and dangling over her shoulders. Her shoes are like a stripper's imagining of what a private school should be wearing, all platforms, and no comfort, and the white stockings do not bring the shades of innocence that they should.

Ware: She looks like my fifth grade crush!

Gibson: Your fifth-grade crush looked like a stripper?

Ware: I didn't say I was in fifth grade!

How dare you catch me counting?
How dare you call at all?
How dare you call it suffering?
How dare you call at all?

Gibson: He's still coming out, isn't he?

Ware: Probably.

Gibson: Damn.

Myers: He is the HOLLYWOOD! HELLLLLLION! HE!! IS!!

Spotlights -- we've got a ton of them in one place, right at the head of that entranceway.

Myers: DUNNNNNNNN-CANNNNNNNNN! DRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!!

Ware: ENTER THE DRAKE, GIBBO!

Gibson: What does that mean?

Ware: I say what he asks me to!

You're right - I get it
It all makes sense - you're the perfect person
So right, so wrong
Let's all live in your imaginary life

Drake swoops through the curtains, all laughing grin and you-wanna-punch-him good looks. He's got a commemorative Duncan Drake 2007 Young Lions T-Shirt, depicting Drake in a very Günter Gebel-Williams get-up, all light tan coveralls and big brown boots, chair in one hand, whip in the other. The caption: Caution -- Professional Young Lion Tamer At Work.

Gibson: Where do people like him and Stevens get their t-shirts?

Ware: I make them in my van.

Duncan and MacKenzie join arm in arm and make for the ring. Work to do -- if you can call it that

The lights dim slowly as “The Flame In All Of Us” by Thousand Foot Krutch begins to play over the PA system.

This world has taken me by storm,
It makes me feel like running,
This place is making me transform,
Until I feel like nothing

From behind the curtain steps a young man, he stares at the ground and lets the moisture drip from the loose strands of hair that hang in front of his face for a moment.

It's the strength in you and me,
...that surrounds everything,
The way you look out for me, the way you burn...

In a flash, he snaps his head back, wet hair slapping the back of his head before he starts down the ramp and heads for the ring.

It's the flame, in all of us, the same,
That makes us feel this
Flame, in all of us, the same, that makes us feel it

Slapping hands with a few kids on the way down, his name is finally announced.

Myers: Coming to the ring next from Austin, Texas, JAAAAAY BRIIIIIDDEEEEN!!!”

We are the youth, of yesterday,
We've brought you pain and sorrow,
That's what they say, but they paved the way,
We are the new tomorrow

He slides into the ring under the bottom rope, and quickly springs to his feet in one fluid motion.

It's the strength in you and me,
...that surrounds everything,
The way you look out for me, the way you burn...

He points to the Heavens before making his way to the opposite corner of the ring as his music fades.

It's the flame, in all of us, the same,
That makes us feel this
Flame, in all of us, the same, that makes us

Myers: And their final opponent…

“When World's Collide” by Powerman 5000 hits the PA System, and out steps Itachi from the curtains.

Myers: From Osaka, Japan, “The Hero of Japan” Itachi!

Itachi makes his way down the aisle and climbs into the ring, before anything can happen however Drake comes up behind Itachi and connects with a low blow. He pushes the body of Itachi into the ring, points at him and signals for Bridden to attack.

*DING* *DING* *DING*

Gibson: Drake with a low blow before this match could get started, and now Bridden has a prone Itachi in the ring with him.

Ware: Bridden? Pfft, what kind of name is that? What happened to the days when people had normal sounding names? Now look at Drake, Drake is a very normal sounding name.

Drake circles the outside of the ring, Bridden just looks at him, then down at Itachi and decides to do what's best in a match of this style and fashion. He goes after the fallen opponent. Jay nails a dropkick to Itachi's face before he can climb to a standing position. He charges the ropes springboards off of the top and flips back onto Itachi with a moonsault. He hits the opposite ropes and delivers a second moonsault onto the fallen Japanese hero.

Gibson: Bridden with an early pin attempt.

Ware: Breadbasket is going for this way to early, the man might be Japanese, which automatically gives him a height disadvantage, but have you ever seen a Bruce Lee movie? These Japanese don't go down easily.

1…



2…


Kick out by Itachi.

Gibson: That was a pretty close one.

Ware: About as close as my underwear to my groin, seriously can't they make these things any bigger?

Drake watches from outside the ring, waiting for an opportune time to try for a win, meanwhile Bridden grabs Itachi by the head and snaps him over with a snapmare, following up with a dropkick to the back of the head.

Gibson: Bridden using a very high impact offense, and it looks like he's going to just keep coming.

Ware: Breadstick might be able to move fast, but all that means is he'll have an easier time running away from the ring after he loses.

Bridden steps over Itachi's body and hops over the rope onto the apron. He springboards off the top and lands onto Itachi with a well placed elbow into the sternum. He grabs the far leg.

Gibson: A second pin attempt, Jay Bridden is determined to get a victory.

Ware: Breadcrumbs is looking good now, but soon he's going to be more winded then Rosie O'Donnell trying to walk up a flight of stairs.

1…


2…


Kick out! Drake stands on the outside of the ring, looking a little nerved but decides to remain outside.

Gibson: Duncan Drake is just standing there and letting Jaiden Bridden do all the work.

Ware: Drake's not dumb, he knows what he's doing and if Breaddip is going to be dumb enough to do all the work, then that's his problem.

Bridden charges the far ropes, and as he rebounds off of them Drake grabs him by the ankles and trips him sending him face first into the canvas. Drake points to his head and then slides into the ring laying the leather into the back of Bridden's head.

Gibson: Cheap move from Duncan Drake, but it now gives him control over this match up.

Ware: Now if only I could get control over my underwear, these damn things are really cutting into the circulation.

Drake drops an elbow across the back of Bridden's neck, followed by a second, then a third. Drake grabs Bridden by the neck and begins to yank him to his feet, Jay quickly delivers a rapid succession of knees to the midsection that cause Drake to let him go. Drake drops to the canvas and rolls away. Bridden starts to get pumped the notices Itachi coming right at him.

Gibson: Itachi looking better off now, and here he comes after Bridden, NO! DRAKE INTERCEPTS!

Ware: If we had Drake at Pearl Harbor, maybe we never would have nuked them japs… okay, we probably would have anyway.

Itachi goes face first into the canvas with a drop-toe-hold from Drake, who rolls back outside of the ring. Bridden grabs him by the neck and hops to the top rope, springboards comes around and hits Itachi with the modified sliced bread #2.

Gibson: There it is, and this one is over!

Ware: Yeah, I've said that a time or two in my life.

Bridden looks down at Itachi and drops for the cover…

1…


2…


THRE……..

Gibson: No! Drake is taking advantage, Bridden just went flying out of the ring, and Drake is going to try and steal one!

Ware: HA!

Bridden lays on the outside of the ring clutching his head, as Drake steps onto the chest of Itachi with one foot, his arms in a pose.

1…




2…


…


…


…



THRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

*DING* *DING * *DING*

Myers: Here is your winner, and advancing to Round Two, “The Hollywood Hellion” Dunnnncaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnn Drrrrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkeeeeee!

• Young Lion's Cup Rd 1
• Joaquin Pierre
• versus
• Jason O'Neil
• versus
• Matthew Randall

Myers: The following match is a first round match of the Young Lion's Cup.

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Myers: First to the ring, hailing from Paris, France and now residing in New York City, he weighs in at two hundred fifty two pounds…

All lighting in the arena dims drastically, only the barest glow around the staging area as the sound of a guitar is head and the FUSEwire comes to life. A cross appears on the screen, made of two swords, and on each blade is a name. Joaquin on the vertical cross, and Pierre on the horizontal. At this, the crowd goes nuts as "Cold (But I'm Still Here)" by Evans Blue hits the speakers.

Myers: Joaaaaaaaaaaaaaquiiiiiiiiiiiiin Pieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeee!

Hello, I'm your martyr
Will you be my gangster?
Can you feel my trigger hand moving further down your neck?
When you hide, just hide inside that body
But just remember that when I hold you
The more you shake, the more you give away.

As the chorus begins, a single bright spotlight illuminates the stage area, shining down directly on the form of Joaquin Pierre, who stands perfectly still, his head bowed as if he in praying. He wears a black hooded sweatshirt and carris in one hand his ever present cane sword, the handle of which forms a cross, and a double sided flag featuring the French tricolor and the Stars and Stripes of the United States.

COLD, but I'm still here BLIND, cause I'm so blind, say never
We're far from comfortable this time.
COLD, now we're so cold MINE, and your not mine, say never
We're far from obvious this time.

Pierre slowly raises his head and pulls down the hood of his sweatshirt, allowing his cobalt blue eyes to sweep the cheering fans before locking on the ring before him. He begins a slow walk to the ring, acknowledging the fans good natured cheering of Old Glory and booing the French tricolor, but not taking his eyes off of the ring.

Wait, another minute here. Time will kill us after all.
Can you feel its second hand? Wrapped around your neck.
So fall into my eyes, and fall into my lies.
But don't you forget, the more you turn away, the more I want you to stay...

COLD, but I'm still here BLIND, cause I'm so blind, say never
We're far from comfortable this time
COLD, now we're so cold. MINE, and your not mine, say never
We're far from obvious this time.

As the second verse ends, Pierre makes a complete circle around the ring, stopping to hand his sword and flag to the timekeeper to hold onto. As he finishes the circle, he does a vertical leap, landing on his feet on the ring apron, and then again jumping over the top rope.

You're so endearing, you're so beautiful
Well I don't look like they do, and I don't love like they do
But I don't hate like they do
Am I ever on your mind?

COLD, but I'm still here. BLIND, Cause I'm so blind, say never
We're far from comfortable this time.
COLD, now we're so cold. MINE, and your not mine, say never
We're far from obvious this time.

He walks to each corner of the ring, at each corner pounding his chest with a fist three times before throwing the fist into the air and bringing the crowd to their feet. As the song reaches its final verse, he moves right to the center of the ring, bowing his head and closing his eyes. He pulls the sweatshirt off over his head and tosses it into the crowd.

COLD, you broke me from the very first night.
I'll love you till they day I die.
I'm far too comfortable this time.
COLD, I loved you from the very first night.
You'll break me till the day I die
I'm far too obvious this time.

Pierre raises his eyes, locking them on his opponent, and throws shadow punches and kicks, warming himself up for the upcoming battle.

Myers: And one of his opponents…

Orange spotlights dance across the arena ceiling as the human beatbox, Rahzel, spits a beat out of his mouth.

Myers: Weighing in at two hundred fifty-three pounds, hailing from Cleveland, Ohio…

As the guitars come in, a single pyro flash hits the arena, as "Absolutely" Jason O'Neil emerges from the back, his arms in the air.

Myers: “Absolutely” Jaaaaaaaaaaaassssssoooooon O'Neeeeeeiiiiiiiilll!

# Those haunted rhymes #
# are keepin' the time #
# but, they'll never get through to me. #
# It's my party, but, I'm waiting for someone to start it. #
# My party, there's no one but me in the corner, #
# Gotta get my mojo runnin', engine hummin', #
# Don't I? #

O'Neil makes his way to the ring, handing out high-fives to the fans, before walking up the ring steps, and into the ring.

# Now roll it up and smoke it again. #
# It's bottoms up and drink it again. #
# Now fix it up and shoot it again. #
# I can't believe I did it again. #

As he gets into the ring, O'Neil will stand in the center of the ring, and in Kane-esque fashion, push his hands out to his sides until Orange pyro shoots out of the ring posts.

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Myers: And their opponent…

Maroon and gold lights start flashing in the arena as “Smashing Young Man” starts to filter from the rafters.

Myers: Making his way to the ring….

Beggar's description
Of what I've been missing
Exploit your position
Don't think I didn't listen
Hey I hope you're feeling
A little better now

Out from under the FUSE Wire is Matthew Randall. As he enters the arena, he takes a quick spin in order to get the scope of how big the crowd is. He then stops right before the aisle way. After a couple of real quick hops, he dashes towards the ring.

Success is so tragic
Pain is your gadget
Your tongue's just lashing
Just bitching by habit
Hey I hope you're feeling
A little purer now
Hey I hope you're feeling
Securer now

Myers: From Kentwood, Michigan, and weighing in tonight at 170 pounds…….MATTHEW RANDALL!

Matthew slides in under the bottom rope and is quick to his feet as the music fades out.

Gibson: Well Eugene, we have three promising athletes in the ring tonight. For those who remember before Defiance Matthew Randall picked up a win in a triple threat match between Pierre, Tanaka and himself in what could be called a very close contest. Now, tonight if Randall can make lightning strike twice then it could be argued that we would be looking at the first ever holder of the Young Lion's Cup.

Ware: If Randall can get a win over Jason O'Neil then I'll eat a pile of Rhinoceros dung. But, since that will never happen I'll be safe from experiencing that again. Nothing you want to do more then once Dave, trust me on that one.

*DING* *DING* *DING*

The three men stand in a semi triangle formation, each prone and ready for attack. The first to make a move is Pierre who goes straight for Randall. The two of them lock up, and Pierre drops to the canvas slipping out and tossing Randall over with an armdrag. Randall springs back to his feet and charges Pierre for a clothesline, the French Fucker ducks and Randall connects with Jason O'Neil instead.

Gibson: O'Neil experiencing the dangers of a triple threat match, and Pierre is experiencing the benefits of one at the same time.

Ware: I take it Randall is the Jan of this Brady Bunch, right in the middle and he gets nothing?

Pierre from behind Randall drops him to the mat with a running facecrusher bulldog. Randall's face hits the canvas hard and Pierre rolls him up and over for the first pin attempt of the match.

Gibson: Pierre going for an early win, and in a tournament like this you need to get through your first two matches as quickly as you can.

Ware: It's like when you get two hookers, and you don't want to pay for two hours so you just get it done and over with as quick as possible.

The referee slides into position…

1…


2…



Thre…

O'Neil breaks up the pin attempt with an axe handle drop across the back of the Franc.

Gibson: Nice save from “Absolutely” Jason O'Neil there, otherwise we could have seen the end of the match.

Ware: Well, O'Neil has seen his share of matches in his time and he knows how to play off of these.

Gibson: No witty comments there Eugene?

Ware: Nope, not for O'Neil.

O'Neil pulls Pierre to his feet by the head, locking him in a very traditional headlock. Pierre wriggles free and spins around his foe, locking him in a hammerlock. O'Neil drives the elbow into the side of Pierre's head and spins around him locking him in a hammerlock of his own. Pierre drives an elbow of his own into O'Neil's head drops to a knee then flat to the canvas as he takes O'Neil over with an armdrag. O'Neil rolls through and springs back to his feet nearly decapitating Pierre with a clothesline.

Gibson: What a chain of events between Joaquin Pierre and Jason O'Neil.

Ware: I'm just waiting for the Absolution to be slapped on, and to see Pierre do what the French do best, and that's quit.

Randall rolls to the ropes and pulls himself up in the corner, just watching the other two go at it, being smart and conserving his energy. O'Neil drops to the canvas and locks on an armbar, wrenching back on the arm and shoulder of Pierre. Using his speed and agility to his advantage Pierre pushes with his legs and rolls through the armbar, but O'Neil doesn't release the hold and as Pierre struggles to his feet O'Neil jerks the arm down dropping Pierre to his knees. O'Neil steps over the arm, rolls forward and locks Pierre into a Fujiawa armbar.

Gibson: O'Neil still feeling out Pierre, and working over that arm and shoulder.

Ware: O'Neil is a household name in this business for a reason, and this is that reason Dave.

Gibson: Eugene to hear you speak without insult is such a weird thing.

Randall bounds off the ropes and leaps in the air for a legdrop, as he does this O'Neil releases the armbar and rolls away allowing Randall to drop the leg over Pierre's arm and shoulder instead of O'Neil himself. Randall gets to his and goes reaching for O'Neil. Jason ducks the grapple attempt slips behind O'Neil and takes him to the canvas with a double leg take down. O'Neil goes for the leg starting to hook it behind his neck for the Flying Leg Submission, Randall however wriggles his leg free and wraps his other leg around O'Neil's neck taking him to the canvas with a modified head scissors take down.

Gibson: Randall being resourceful and taking the experience O'Neil to the canvas reversing a submission attempt.

Ware: It wouldn't be the first time O'Neil has been reversed, and it will not be the last either, but don't expect that to change the momentum of this match.

Randall hits the ropes as O'Neil is getting to his feet and springboards off connecting with a huge clothesline. O'Neil hits the canvas, rolls through and bounds back to his feet. Randall charges ducks under a grab attempt by sliding between O'Neil's legs, comes up behind him and hooks him in a sleeper hold.

Gibson: Look at the quickness of Matthew Randall, Jason O'Neil might have bitten off more then he can chew with this promising young star.

Ware: What, sliding between someone's legs is an amazing feat? Please, you can oil me up and I could slide between legs all day long.

O'Neil begins flailing his arms all around as Randall applies the pressure. The referee kneels to check the hold, and to check on the status of O'Neil. Randall makes a show of the move, and continues applying pressure as it appears O'Neil begins to fade.

Gibson: Matthew Randall just might put Jason O'Neil to sleep right here and now!

Ware: You're forgetting about something important here Dave…

Gibson: Here comes Pierre, with a dropkick to the back of the head!

O'Neil drops to the canvas as Randall goes soaring over the top rope from the impact. Pierre pivots on his left foot and drops down onto the lower back of O'Neil while hooking a full nelson. O'Neil tries to wriggle free but to no avail.

Gibson: Out of the frying pan and into the skillet is Jason O'Neil, it looks like he has nowhere to go!

Ware: O'Neil is a submission specialist, you're not going to make a submission specialist tap out this easily.

THHHHHWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCK!

Gibson: Matthew Randall with a devastating kick to Pierre's face!

Pierre collapses to the canvas with O'Neil flat on his stomach. Randall looks over the carnage and decides to go after O'Neil. He grabs Jason by the head and yanks him to his feet O'Neil shoves him away and then lunges at him for a grapple. Randall pivots out and hooks O'Neil in a side headlock.

Gibson: Classic side headlock from the Matthew Randall.

Ware: When I hear Classic Dave, I think of Star Wars, not a headlock.

O'Neil places his hands under Randall's arms and shoves him towards the ropes. Randall rebounds and O'Neil catches spinning him around in a tilt-a-whirl then slamming him to the canvas with a spinebuster.

Gibson: Tilt-A-Whirl Spinebuster from Jason O'Neil, this could be the momentum shifter he needs to pick up a win!

Ware: O'Neil is more effective then condoms, he works 100% of the time.

O'Neil stares down at his fallen foe and grabs for the legs. Suddenly from behind Pierre grabs him by the shoulders, jumps and falls back placing a double knee into the spine, he rolls him over and hooks the leg.

Gibson: Pierre coming out of nowhere hitting the second part of his finishing move the Au Revoir!

Ware: Just like the French, let everyone else do all the work.

1…


2…




3!!!

Gibson: I can't believe it, Joaquin Pierre just picked up the win over Jason O'Neil!

Ware: This isn't accurate, history shows that the French are never victorious!

Pierre rolls off of O'Neil with a huge look of shock on his face. He springs to his feet and charges the turnbuckle hopping to the middle rope and shooting both arms into the air.

Myers: Here is your winner, and advancing into the second round of the Young Lion's Cup Joaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaquuuuuuuuuiiiiiin Piiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrreeee!

Gibson: What a big with this is for the French star.

Ware: Yeah, it's like winning the lottery… pure luck.

• Young Lion's Cup Rd 1
• Elliott Rollins
• versus
• Paul Cain
• versus
• Gunner Saint

Myers: This match is scheduled for one fall and is a triple threat match. First making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred and seventy pounds, hailing from Perdition, Kansas. He is GUNNAR SAINT!

The lights dim throughout the arena and plain white strobe lights flicker, allowing people to see the scantily clad vixens known as the Grendel Twins lead Gunnar Saint towards the ring to the sound of "The Way I am", by Eminem. His eyes are focused on the ring and he dashes past the twins. The white stars and bars of a confederate flag on a black background can be seen on the tron, as Saint slides into the ring and launches his matching bandana into the crowd.

Lucy and Lilith soon slip into the ring under the bottom rope and crawl to him like a pair of sex kittens, as he tears his shirt off violently, exposing his heavily tattooed frame to the capacity crowd. The ladies soon situate themselves in the corner, sitting on the top rope on each side of the turnbuckle. Saint shadowboxes, as he waits for things to get started.

As the referee gets ready to call for the bell, the Grendel twins hhop down from their perch and kiss Gunnar on the cheek before slipping out of the ring.

Myers: His opponent making his way to the ring. Weighing in at two hundred and thirty-five pounds, hailing from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He is ELLIOT ROLLINS!

“ELLIOTT. FUCKING. ROLLINS.”
"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The crowd goes nuts as crunching guitar riffs and blast beats fill the arena.

## I'm a monster so don't walk my way. ##
## Don't trust my smile my teeth are like knives. ##
## I'll drag you down and suck you dry. ##

The FUSEwire fills with images of past matches. Elliott Rollins locked up with Prince Pride. Rollins landing vicious right hands on Gideon Fontaine. Rollins with a belly-to-belly, sending Timo over the top rope. Rollins landing a devastating head-and-arm suplex on Duncan Drake, sending both men crashing at ringside. The images become fast and visceral, an onslaught of battles that Rollins has had in his short career thus far in FUSE.

## Don't laugh at my jokes - the punchline is murder. ##
## Don't enjoy my touch, every caress hides a chokehold. ##
## I'm only happy when I've ruined everything I see. ##
## Believe everything you've ever heard about me- suck it up. ##

Smoke rises as Elliott Rollins appears through the entrance to another pop from the crowd. He is dressed in the traditional white 'Slayer' tee, black denim shorts, and black wrestling boots. He has a grin on his face, allowing the rush from the live audience to feed him. He begins headbanging to the music, and when he pumps two fists in the air, two shots of pyro go off in sync.

Behind him, his manager, William 'Slick Willy' McDormant makes his appearance, standing in the shadows and allowing his young student his chance to shine. As the smoke clears from the pyro, Rollins is intense as always, his eyes targeting the ring as he and his manager begin the long walk to ringside. Rollins extends his hands, slapping hands with the crowd but his eyes never leave the ring.

Ware: Who is this guy? SECURITY!

## Don't laugh at my jokes- the punchline is murder. ##
## Don't enjoy my touch, every caress hides a chokehold. ##
## I'm only happy when I've ruined everything I see. ##
## Believe everything you've ever heard about me- suck it up. #

Rollins reaches ringside and slides under the ring, popping up quickly and hitting a ring post. He holds a hand in the air, his eyes scanning the crowd. McDormant opts for the stairs, as he wouldn't want to get his nice new suit dirty.


Myers: Their opponent making his way to the ring weighing in at two hundred and thirty-five pounds from Denver, Colorado. PAUL CAIN!

Cain slowly walks down to the ring looking at his opponents standing there. Rollins with hate in his eyes. Cain slowly slides in the ring and awaits the bell to be rung.

Gibson: Paul Cain made his return at Defiance attacking Elliot Rollins after his battle royal win.

Ware: I expect Rollins to be on Cain like white on rice.

The referee signals for the bell and Elliot Rollins charges Paul Cain. Rollins connects with a European uppercut to Cain's jaw sending him reeling backwards. On the return Rollins catches him with a dropkick to the kisser.

Gibson: Rollins punishing Paul Cain.

Ware: If I were Cain I would make like a tree and get lost.

Saint comes from behind and takes Rollins out with a T-bone suplex. Cain slowly crawls to his feet as does Rollins. Much to everyone's surprise Rollins and Cain deliver a double team DDT to Gunnar Saint. With Saint down Rollins and Cain begin exchanging hard lefts and rights. Rollins drives a knee into Cain's gut doubling him over. Rollins picks him up and delivers a stunning brainbuster.

Gibson: One hell of a brainbuster by Elliot Rollins.

Ware: Maybe I should look for my Excedrin Migrane for Cain. It looks like he could use it.

Rollins moves on to Gunnar Saint. Saint starts climbing to his feet but Rollins plants him back on the canvas with a high impact short arm clothesline. Rollins climbs to the top rope and flies connecting with a diving headbutt to the sternum of Gunnar Saint. Elliot Rollins goes for the pin.

Gibson: Rollins going for the pin.

1...

2...

Paul Cain breaks up the pin attempt with an elbow across the back of Elliot Rollins' head.

Gibson: Cain breaking up the pin.

Cain rips Rollins to his feet and shoots him to the mat with and belly-to-back suplex. Cain follows up with a boot to the ribs. Gunnar Saint makes his way to his feet and puts Cain to the mat with the Crystal Lake Killer. A Pumphandle Piledriver that is one of his signature moves. Saint goes for the pin.

Gibson: Saint going for the pinfall.

Ware: Rollins wont let that happen.

The referee slides into position.

1...

2...

Elliot Rollins is on the top rope. He flies off with a double knee to the center of Gunnar Saint's back breaking up the pin and further damaging both men.

Gibson: OH MY GOD! Elliot Rollins crushing both of his opponents.

Ware: X-RAY... come get your X-Ray's.

Rollins picks up Saint and crashes him to the mat with a full nelson suplex. Rollins then picks up Paul Cain delivers the Alley Oop (reverse powerbomb) over the top rope. Cain falls to the outside of the ring and lies there motionless. Rollins turns around just as Gunnar Saint is getting to his feet. SPEAR by Rollins!

Gibson: Rollins taking out Paul Cain.

Ware: Do you think we should call 911?

Rollins rolls him up for the pin.

1...

2...

Kick out by Gunnar Saint!

Saint gets to his feet Rollins charges but is taken down with an Arn Anderson style spinebuster. He picks up Rollins and sits him on the top turnbuckle and captures hi arm and head. He pulls him out hooking his feet on the top rope and then quickly falls to his back, hitting a flatliner. Saint backs off and lets Rollins get to his feet waiting to hit The Maximum Overdrive. He charges Rollins but gets stopped dead in his tracks by a double knee facebreaker. Rollins picks him up off the mat and delivers a ring shaking Imapler DDT. He continues the offensive and climbs the ropes.

Gibson: Equal exchange by both Gunnar Saint and Elliot Rollins. Both men extremely impressive here tonight.

Ware: Im- press- ive. Hmmm.

He flies and connects with Reckless Endangerment. He rolls up Saint and holds him for the pin.

1...

2...

3!

Gibson: Elliot Rollins with the Reckless Endangerment and the pinfall.

Ware: What... What happened? Did I miss something?

Myers: Your winner via pinfall ELLLLLIOOOOT ROOOOOLLINS!!

• Young Lion's Cup Semi-Finals
• Duncan Drake
• versus
• Joshua Kosidlo

"Unholy Confessions" by Avenged Sevenfold Explodes through the arena, as a single white spotlight focuses on the entrance. A voice comes over the PA system, as the intro continues on.

Voice: Once in every generation a warrior is born destined for greatness. Destined to shine light where there is only dark. These warriors are Paragons of chivalry and remain Heroic Champions... These warriors, are Paladins.

Suddenly from behind the curtain Joshua Kosidlo erupts, as gold pyro explode around the entrance, sending large towers into the air. Kosidlo stands at the top of the stage, raising both arms high into the air, then he drops them to his side quickly in a determined manner, causing a second set of white pyro to explode in front of him.

Myers: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred seventy-five pounds, he hails from Rome, New York, “The Paladin” Joshua Kosssidddddlllloooo!

'I'll try,' she said as he walked away.
'Try not to lose you.'
Two vibrant hearts could change.
Nothing tears the being more than deception,
unmasked fear.
'I'll be here waiting' tested and secure.

Joshua erupts through the remnants of smoke, and flecks of white pyro jogging toward the ring, stopping to slap hands with all the little kids, and die hard fans. Those who know who he is get into him, and the rest just gratefully slap the hand of a professional wrestler.

Nothing hurts my world,
just affects the ones around me
When sin's deep in my blood,
you'll be the one to fall.

Kosidlo gets to the ring and stands there for a moment looking around. Slowly he ascends the steps and stands on the apron facing the entranceway. He wraps both forearms and biceps around the top rope. He leans back on the ropes, gazing out at the audience, a boyish grin across his face.

I wish I could be the one,
the one who won't care at all
But being the one on the stand,
I know the way to go, no one's guiding me.
When time soaked with blood turns its back,
I know it's hard to fall.
Confided in me was your heart
I know it's hurting you, but it's killing me.

Kosidlo unravels his arms from the top rope, and pivots toward the ring, hopping over the top rope and landing in the ring. He runs to the far corner and hops up onto the second rope pointing out at various fans before hopping back down and turning to face his opponent. Avenged Sevwnfold fades out and leaves Joshua ready to battle.

And then...

The boos --

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Start as soon as the Chevelle does. That'd be "I Get It," yeah.

Gibson: Aw, hell. How did he get through to the second round, again?

Ware: Wit and talent?

Gibson: And a lot of cheating, right?

You know the words by now -- sing along at home, if you're not too busy throwing stuff at the television screen.

So you say you're ignored
As it is
Well give us your sad, sad trip

Myers: And his opponent!

We here at FUSE do not like to consider our fans predictable. But we bet you can guess what's about to happen on the FUSEWire. Some famous landmark from a particular city in southern California (in this case Mann's Chinese Theater) is going to appear on-screen. Then, an old-style typewriter is going to bang the name of that city across the screen.

HOLLYWOOD

Then? Oh, yeah, we've still got pyro to shoot off tonight. It's pretty and red and gold.

SKEEEEEEEEEEEV-BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!
SKEEEEEEEEEEEV-BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!
SKEEEEEEEEEEEV-BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!

You're right - I get it
It all makes sense - you're the perfect person
So right - so wrong
Let's all live in your imaginary life

The message has changed again.

HATE TO SAY WE TOLD YOU SO ABOUT THAT BYE THING

Myers: From Palm Desert, California! The self-proclaimed FOREMAN OF THE FIRST ROUND, he claims he will be the Sovereign of the Semifinals!

Gibson: Does he even know how ridiculous he sounds?

Ware: Does he care?

Myers: To be accompanied as always by the Belle of the Ball, MacKenzie Malone!

Ware: Drool.

Gibson: Did you just actually SAY the WORD "drool"?

Ware: Wanna make something of it?

Gibson: And if I do?

Ware: Then you are perfectly welcome to do so -- look, a pretty girl!

Assumed is whether
We're right or wrong
We're doomed, and there's plenty for all

The Devilish Debutante has -- we know this is a big surprise -- changed completely from the first-round bout to the second-round bout. Gone is the snakeskin-and-leather schoolgirl look, replaced by something much more understated from Jil Sanders -- a semi-sheer white blouse (thank God for the combination of this being Showtime and artfully placed pockets) and silky black slacks. She's holding a small black clip-'n'-close clutch, her hair pulled back in a lazy tail.

Gibson: MacKenzie Malone taking it easy for this, the second of a possible three matches for Drake, judging from her ward--oh, God, did I just say that?

Ware: You're coming around!

How dare you catch me counting?
How dare you call at all?
How dare you call it suffering?
How dare you call at all?

Myers: He is! THE HOLLYWOOD HELLLLLLION! HE!! IS!!

Ware: Here it comes, Gibbo! Here it comes -- give it to me, Myers!

Myers: DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN-CANNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!! DRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!!!

Ware: He's always so excited!

Gibson: That's his job.

Ware: And this is mine -- ENTER THE DRAKE!

Drake isn't all cocksure and "LOOK AT ME!" after the earlier match; having to wrestle takes away from one's ego. Having to wrestle AGAIN after this, possibly? Yeah, he'd just as soon get this over with.

But a not-totally-cocky Duncan Drake is still more arrogant than half the roster. That smile doesn't stretch any less when he hooks MacKenzie's arm and they begin the walk to ringside. Drake's hair is always perfect (that's because he brings a hair-and-makeup person with him), his tights are always immaculate (that's because he's wearing a new pair) and his t-shirt? Always proves he's an asshole.

"Duncan Drake: Putting Down Young Lions Like Christi--Wait. It Was The Other Way Around. Nevermind, Then."

Gibson: And during the Holiday Season!

Drake slides into the ring -- we'd say, "it's go time!" but this is Duncan Drake we're talking about and we're not sure he knows what that means.

Ware: Drake!

Gibson: Stop that.

As Drake is conversing with Mac pre-match, the referee calls for the bell. Drake doesn't look all that concerned, as he and MacKenzie continue to discuss... well, whatever it is they're discussing. Kosidlo, on the other hand, looks INTENSE, as the whole not-giving-a-care routine isn't exactly the most respectful thing.

Gibson: And something tells me Kosidlo isn't going to be patient with a man of Drake's... personality.

Ware: What? Does he have a thing against awesomeness?

Drake is still sitting in the corner, using the second ring rope as a seat as MacKenzie stands on the apron. MacKenzie loosens her hair, shaking it free from the ponytail it had been in previously and tosses her hair-tie in to the center of the ring nonchalantly, as if it were a natural thing for her to do. The referee bends down to pick it up and then walks over towards the timekeeper to deposit it.

Gibson: I smell set-up.

Ware: I smell ketchup. Is that normal?

Gibson: And Kosidlo has had enough. He's stalking over to the corner --

Ware: I think I have a brain tumor.

Several things happen; the referee hands off the hair-tie, thus leaving his back to the events in the ring. Drake, well aware of Kosidlo's presence, drops quickly to the ring mat right as Kosidlo swipes at him. Kosidlo is left clutching at air, and as he stumbles in to the corner, MacKenzie is right there waiting with the dreaded SQUIRT BOTTLE.

Gibson: Not this again!

Ware: Brilliant!

Gibson: Where does she get these things?

Ware: Her lady-parts double as a tote bag.

While the contents of the water bottle remain a mystery, one thing is certain; it stings like a bitch. Kosidlo, blinded, doesn't see the following school boy pin coming, but the referee conveniently does as he turns his back just in time to see Kosidlo's shoulders pinned to the mat.

ONE!

TW--!

Gibson: Not even a two-count as Kosidlo kicks out quickly!

Ware: Emphasis!

Gibson: And Kosidlo stumbles to his feet blindly --

Ware: Literally.

Gibson: -- but Drake goes low with a dropkick to the knee – back up quickly, and he starts to stomp away at the knee here, trying to take the legs out from under the considerably larger Kosidlo.

And this is what Drake continues to do. He lays boot after boot in to the right knee of Kosidlo, who can't decide whether or not he wants to defend his knees or try to rub the substance from his eyes. Kosidlo opts for the former as he grabs ahold of Drake's feet and sweeps them out from under him. He's up quick for a man who just got repeatedly kicked in the knee.

Gibson: Kosidlo showing a quick burst here – goes for the snap elbow drop but misses, Drake rolled out of the way – Drake back up now, spinning kick missing the sitting Kosidlo – Kosidlo takes a swipe at the back of his legs and drops him to his back –

Ware: Can't... keep... up...

Gibson: Kosidlo back to his feet and takes a moment to clear his eyes, and when he does, he's met face-to-face with MacKenzie, who is standing on the ring apron. Get her down from there!

Ware: She can do whatever she wants. Plus, I can see up her skirt.

Gibson: Kosidlo doesn't allow it to distract him, however, as he moves back over to Drake and drags him violently from the mat. Kosidlo – Irish whip sends Drake in to the corner, and I'll be damned if he isn't selling that like he just got shot.

Ware: You didn't hear? FUSE replaced the turnbuckle pads with shotguns.

Kosidlo watches as Drake writhes around in the corner before launching himself in to it, crushing Drake with a powerful clothesline that drops Drake to the mat below. Drake rolls out to the apron and drops off, landing on the floor outside.

Gibson: I swear, Duncan Drake must be the most fragile person in existence.

Ware: No way! Haven't you seen Unbreakable?

Gibson: Now what's this about?

Ware: Well you see, there's this one guy who like, can't break. And then this other guy who breaks really, really easily --

Gibson: MacKenzie now at her man's side, helping peel Drake from ringside. Drake slowly crawling to his feet – it was just a CLOTHESLINE for Christ's sake -- Drake is up now, MacKenzie tending to him -- and suddenly, he looks like he's just seen a ghost!

Ware: That was The Sixth Sense. I can see how you'd get the two confused.

Gibson: KOSIDLO THROUGH THE ROPES! MY GOD!

Ware: Isn't he OUR God?


AT&T Replay

As Duncan Drake is helped to his feet, his eyes widen as he sees what is happening in the ring. Kosidlo is bouncing off the opposite ring ropes, and with a running head of steam he takes to the air, launching himself between the middle and top rope and nails his stunned opponent with a huge diving shoulder block, nearly taking MacKenzie out in the process.

Ware: My woman!

Gibson: Isn't she OUR woman?

Ware: Don't be silly.

Gibson: Miraculously, Kosidlo landed on his feet after nailing that huge shoulder block, and MacKenzie Malone looks absolutely furious after nearly being crushed by the six-foot-five Kosidlo. Kosidlo looks pumped as he drags Drake up by the head and rolls him in to the ring. He looks over to MacKenzie, who gets in his face!

Ware: If he hits her, I swear to God --

Gibson: Mac sharing some words with Kosidlo, and I tell you, that woman has a mouth on her.

Ware: A mouth that should be filled with Ware.

Gibson sighs.

Gibson: Drake still down in the ring, and Kosidlo better get his head together as his opponent is struggling to his feet – Kosidlo with one last comment, just a second longer, and he slides back in to the ring – but Drake was playing possum!

Ware: Possum! I mean Drake!

Gibson: Drake seems to have a new wind as he was up quick, far too quick to be as hurt as he seemed to be, and before Kosidlo could fully get in to the ring, he lays a STIFF boot to the ribcage. That kick echoed throughout the arena.

Ware: No it didn't.

Drake pulls Kosidlo up and begins punching away at his face and chest as he has Kosidlo backed against the ring ropes. He rears back and lets out a vicious knife-edge chop that instantly raises goosebumps on the arms of fans in the first row.

Gibson: Drake with some nasty chops to the chest of Kosidlo, and now – Duncan Drake with an Indian burn?

Ware: Careful, we need to be P.C. Bolamba may be listening.

Gibson: He can't be serious.

Ware: Native American burn on Joshua Kosidlo!

Gibson: What is Drake trying to do here?

Ware: Have you ever had one of those done to you? They sting like the dickens.

When Duncan Drake realizes that his grade-school tactics may not be as effective as he had hoped, two things click in his head simultaneously; 1.) maybe he's in over his head, and 2.) maybe he should try a different technique.

Gibson: Drake now, holding on to that arm – Irish whip, REVERSED, Drake on his way back – ducks the clothesline attempt from Kosidlo, and attempts a boot to the gut. Kosidlo grabs ahold of the foot and spins him around – STIFF SHORT ARM CLOTHESLINE! Good GOD, Kosidlo just took Drake's head off!

Ware: No he didn't.

Gibson: It's a figure of speech.

Ware (fading): I wish I could take that beautiful head of his off. Take it home with me, put it on my mantel, use it as a chalice. It was made for royalty, not to be abused by some 'roid-raging freak like Kosidlo. LEAVE DUNCAN ALONE!

Kosidlo goes for the cover.


ONE!



TWO!!!



TH----



Ware: HE KICKED OUT!

Gibson: More like floundered.

Ware: Speaking of flounder, where's my honey?

And speaking of “Ware's honey,” she is currently doing her best to rally her man, who looks to be dead on the ring mat. With a little bit of assistance, Drake is pulled back to his feet by Kosidlo, who has dangerous intent written all over his face.

Gibson: Kosidlo pulling Drake in – overhead belly-to-belly suplex!

Ware: Drake!

Gibson: Kosidlo isn't done. He's back up quickly, and he's bringing Drake up with him – overhead belly-to-belly number two!

Ware: Speaking of number two, when's the commercial break?

Gibson: Kosidlo and Drake both up again, Kosidlo looking for the trifecta AND HE NAILS IT! Duncan Drake tossed haphazardly on to his head like a rag doll, and Joshua Kosidlo looks to be in complete control of this match.

Kosidlo drops down for the pin attempt, but only gets two before Drake somehow manages to get his shoulder off the mat. Kosidlo doesn't look angry or impatient or anything; he looks very, very calm as he mounts Duncan Drake.

Ware: Gross.

Gibson: Kosidlo now – he's pulling Drake up by the hair, and he's raining down punches! One fist after another to the bridge of Duncan Drake's nose, and that cannot be pleasant.

Ware: Really, Gibby? It can't be pleasant to get punched in the face? Who hired you?

Gibson: After a few more vicious punches from Kosidlo, Drake almost looks ready to tap.

Ware: No way. Dunc's Superman. Don't tell.

Gibson: Kosidlo pulls Drake up again – Irish whip to the ring ropes gets reversed, Kosidlo bouncing off the ropes now – Duncan Drake – DROPKICK – AND HE WHIFFED! Drake went for the dropkick in an attempt to mount some sort of offense, but Kosidlo was nowhere to be found.

Kosidlo motions to the crowd, who let out a roar. They enjoy this just as much as he does. Kosidlo bounces off the ropes and comes down with a huge knee drop to the back of Duncan Drake's skull. Kosidlo keeps his knee across the back of Drake's neck and shoulders and pulls his head up.

Gibson: Damn, that's vicious.

Ware: ... Drake ...

Gibson: Drake looks lost, and Kosidlo looks like he's going to rip his damn head clear off his neck!

Ware: What is it with you and decapitation?

Gibson: Kosidlo pulling back with all his strength, and Drake is screaming in agony.

Ware: Let him go!

Kosidlo must have heard him, as he lets go of the hold, but doesn't let go of the cranium of Drake as he drags him up. An Irish whip sends Drake in to the ropes –

Gibson: SPINEBUSTER! Huge spinebuster that sent Drake down hard!

Ware: I wonder where that name came from...

Gibson: Kosidlo has Drake back up, and Drake looks unconscious in the middle of the ring there. Kosidlo just toying with him for a little, dragging him back and forth by the arm, building momentum – Kosidlo with another Irish whip – Drake off the ropes – and Drake goes low! Drake, out of sheer desperation, with a diving shoulder block straight to the right knee of Kosidlo!

Ware: The weak right knee, no less. I think Drake did his homework.

Gibson: I think MacKenzie did his homework, as Drake pulls himself up – barely – but pulls himself up and goes right back to work on that right knee, stomping away. Kosidlo trying to cover up, but Drake keeps raining down shot after shot and MacKenzie is cheering it on from ringside!

Ware: Boobs.

Drake continues to work over the knee of Kosidlo. A few more stomps, and then he clutches the leg and cinches down with a leglock. Drake spasms violently as he tries his hardest to shatter that weak right knee of Joshua Kosidlo.

Gibson: What is he doing?

Ware: That boy's got the Devil in him.

Gibson: Drake trying with all his might to bend that tree trunk of a leg, and Kosidlo is the one now who is writhing in pain.

Ware: I thought you said he couldn't wrestle.

Gibson: Congratulations, he's successfully done one wrestling move.

Ware: Oh, how quickly we forget the Native American burn.

Gibson: Drake wrenching back one more time, and then lets the leg of Kosidlo go. Drake now, rising to his feet – and he looks down at Kosidlo like he isn't quite sure what to do next.

Ware: Oh, he knows. He's just plotting. The man is meticulous and immaculate.

Drake calls MacKenzie up from ringside and she meets him at the apron. They begin to discuss what his next move should be.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Gibson: And the crowd obviously disgusted by this blatant disrespect of the sport of wrestling.

Ware: How is he being disrespectful? The man's an innovator.

Gibson: You're right. Wrestling without actually knowing how to wrestle is the new black.

Ware: He knows how to wrestle! Watch!

MacKenzie lifts a water bottle up to Drake's lips and gives him a drink.

Ware: Soon enough. You'll see.

Drake dumps the contents of the bottle over his head, then rubs his hair. He smiles at MacKenzie, who gives him a kiss on the cheek. Kosidlo is now moving behind him, making an effort to rise to his feet. The referee comes over now, trying to get MacKenzie down off the ring apron.

Ware: Any time now.

As MacKenzie and the ref argue, Drake turns around, bottle in hand, to see Joshua Kosidlo standing behind him.

Ware: Uh oh.

Gibson: Drake's life just flashed before his eyes.

Ware: His impeccable, charmed life.

Gibson: Kosidlo charging in now – and Drake just threw that water bottle at the face of Kosidlo!

Ware: WATER BOTTLE DRIVER '07! I told you he could wrestle.

Gibson: The bottle bouncing off Kosidlo's face! Drake now bouncing off the ropes, and before Kosidlo can recover Drake nails him with a reverse bulldog, dragging Kosidlo down to the mat by his head!

Ware: Eat your words.

Gibson: Drake with a cover!



ONE!




TWO!




TH--




Gibson: No! Kosidlo kicks out, and judging by how far Drake flew across the ring, he's got quite a bit of fight left in him. Drake up quick, scurrying across the ring, and he's dragging Kosidlo up with him. Drake pushing Kosidlo back in to the corner now --

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Gibson: And Drake with a vicious knife-edge chop! Drake with the Irish whip to the opposite corner – double running knee lift to the spine of Joshua Kosidlo!

Ware: Draaaaake!

Gibson: Innovative maneuver by Drake, and he's managing to mount a little bit of offense here. Drake now – don't get too confident, son.

Ware: Wait... he's your son?

Gibson: Drake with his arms around the waist of Kosidlo, and he's trying to German suplex him out of the corner but that's easier said than done, my friend.

Ware: He's definitely not your friend.

Drake tries to lift Kosidlo over with the German suplex, but Kosidlo will have nothing of it. Kosidlo with a back elbow not once, not twice, but three times, and Drake stumbles out of the corner. Kosidlo turns around, and Drake stumbles back in to the corner and right in to the waiting arms of Joshua Kosidlo.

Gibson: Kosidlo now – he's got Drake up on his shoulder – HUGE running powerslam out of the corner! The ring just shook!

Ware: No. It didn't.

Gibson: Kosidlo with a cover.



ONE!



TWO!



THR---



Gibson: No! Drake somehow got a shoulder up.

Ware: I love him.

Gibson is quiet.

Ware: Not like, in a sexual way. Just in a “I worship the ground you walk on” kind of way.

Gibson: Kosidlo now... he looks a little surprised that Drake managed to kick out. This kid does have some fight in him, and somehow, this match isn't over quite yet. Kosidlo, that calm confidence he's displayed all match, dragging Drake up by the head now.

Ware: He's just... he's magical, you know? I can't quite explain it, but the way he makes me feel...

Gibson: Kosidlo sends Drake to the ropes – flapjack! Kosidlo lifted Drake up and just dropped him face-first to the mat! Kosidlo quickly up, and he's got Drake in a wheelbarrow position – wheelbarrow suplex on Drake! Kosidlo with a flurry of offense now, and so far in this match, Drake has been out-wrestled and out-classed by the The Paladin.

Ware: Out-wrestled, maybe, but definitely not out-classed.

Kosidlo drags Drake back up, and hits a few punches square to the bridge of the nose of Duncan Drake. Kosidlo pulls Duncan Drake in, and wraps his arms around him and lifts him off the mat in a brutal bear hug.

Gibson: Kosidlo with the bear hug, and he's squeezing the air out of that windbag Drake.

Ware: Why are you so mean to him? He likes you, he told me when we went to lunch that one time.

Gibson: Kosidlo trying to squeeze the life out of Drake, and it looks like he may be succeeding – the referee asking Drake if he wants to give up, but somehow Drake is fighting off the urge to do so. Kosidlo just squeezing tighter and tighter like an anaconda around the waist of Duncan Drake!

What happens next is sick.

Gibson: Drake now, trying desperately to fight off Kosidlo – he just clapped the head of Kosidlo, who tries shaking it off. Drake again with another two-handed clap around the skull of Kosidlo, and that one stumbles him a little. Drake again – NO! OH MY GOD!

Ware: OH OUR GOD!


AT&T Replay

Before Drake can crush Kosidlo's skull again, Kosidlo bends at the knees, briefly, before lifting Drake again and sending him over in a suplex. Unfortunately for Drake, Kosidlo held on to the bear hug at the same time, turning the move in to an inverted German suplex of sorts and sending Drake face-first in to the mat.

Gibson: That... was...

Ware: He's not supposed to bend that way.

Gibson: My God, Drake bent in half, and his neck, back, Hell, his whole body could be broken.

Ware: Hopefully he's Stretch Armstrong as well.

Gibson: Kosidlo just standing over Drake, who has since curled up in a ball, and I really don't blame him after that move. Kosidlo trying to pull Drake to his feet, but Drake, I think, is pretty much dead.

Ware: That'd make MacKenzie a widow then, right? I have a thing for those.

Gibson: Kosidlo forcibly pulling Drake to his feet – Drake with a slap to the face!

Ware: He's alive!

Gibson: That son of a bitch. Kosidlo looks PISSED as he just decks Drake. Drake back up, and gets put back down with a right hand. Drake up again, and Drake down again. Kosidlo just leveling Drake with right hand after right hand.

Drake up again slowly. Kosidlo sends Drake to the ropes, but instead of bouncing back, Drake launches HIMSELF over the top rope and out to the mats below.

Gibson: What a coward.

Ware: Innovator!

Gibson: Duncan Drake, instead of enduring another move by Kosidlo, has taken himself out of the match by throwing himself over the top rope and crashing hard at ringside. MacKenzie, of course, is quickly over to his side.

Ware: The way all women should be. Subordinate.

Gibson: MacKenzie has Drake's head in her lap now --

Ware: Sexy.

Gibson: -- and she's rubbing his head as if he were a child. These two, I swear, are the most ridiculous tandem we've seen in FUSE in quite some time.

Kosidlo will have nothing of it, as he slides out of the ring and drags Drake by the leg out of the comforting embrace of MacKenzie Malone. He pulls Drake up, and with a shoulder to the gut, drives Drake's back in to the barrier.

Gibson: Kosidlo just manhandling Drake here, and MacKenzie looking on, helpless – MacKenzie now, slipping something over her finger – what the Hell is that?

Inside the ring, the referee has counted to two now.

Outside of the ring, Joshua Kosidlo has turned around just in time to be met with a swift punt to the testicles.

Ware: Three-inch stiletto meets three-inch dick!

Gibson: What bullshit.

Ware: Language.

Gibson: MacKenzie with the low-blow! Kosidlo just hunched over, and now – he looks up at Mac, and is met with a stiff right hand! MacKenzie Malone with a shot to the face of Joshua Kosidlo, and he's busted open quick!

Ware: Blood.

MacKenzie displays a big, fat, giant ring on her finger, possibly a gift from her man, to the camera.

Gibson: These two will do absolutely anything to get a win.

Ware: Exactly the way it should be.

Inside of the ring, the referee has counted to five.

Gibson: Drake is pulling himself up by the ring apron, and rolls in to the ring slowly – but he rolls back out to break up the count from the referee. Drake pulling Kosidlo up by the hair, and he rolls him back in to the ring now.

Ware: Ew. Drake has Kosidlo on him.

Gibson: Duncan Drake's hands are just covered with some of that blood that is pouring profusely from the forehead of Joshua Kosidlo. Drake – what audacity!

Ware: What's audacity?

Gibson: Drake pulls MacKenzie in to him and attempts to wipe the blood off on her nice, white blouse, but Mac will have none of it. She just points to the referee, and Drake mopes back in to the ring. Drake now, motioning to the ref, who walks over.

Drake motions to the ground in front of him sternly, and the ref plants his feet there. Duncan Drake tugs at the shirt of the ref, and then wipes the blood on the front of his nice, freshly cleaned white-and-black-striped tee. The referee looks absolutely humiliated as Drake points at Kosidlo, and then attempts the pin.

Gibson: Drake with a cover, and this one is all but over. Kosidlo is a mess.



ONE!





TWO!






THREE!




Gibson: No! Kosidlo kicked out, just in the nick of time!

Ware: Son of a bitch.

Gibson: Drake now, spazzing out – he's just stomping around the ring like a fucking toddler.

Ware: Language, David!

Gibson: I'm sorry, but this is just – this is absolutely ridiculous. Duncan Drake throwing a temper-tantrum in the ring is not what this sport is about, and I feel bad for the people at home and all the people who paid to see this show.

Ware: Why? He's entertaining, and isn't that what they get paid to be?

Gibson: Don't you have a vagina joke you should be telling?

Drake walks over to Kosidlo and drops a knee across the open wound of Kosidlo. Drake then grabs ahold of Kosidlo's head and continues to drive knee after knee in to the skull, opening that wound even wider than it was before.

Gibson: And the master of opportunity with vicious knees to the head of Kosidlo, and he's going to do whatever it takes to win this match. Drake now, rolling Kosidlo over, and he goes straight for that right leg of Joshua Kosidlo.

Ware: Admit it. He's the best wrestler to ever live.

Gibson: Never. Drake taking that leg and raising it high, and then DRIVING the knee right in to the mat. Again and again, Drake continuing to smash that knee and Kosidlo looks like he's in pain.

Ware: How can you tell? His face is covered in blood.

Gibson: Drake just won't stop! I think he's lost it.

Ware: The match isn't even over, don't jump to conclusions.

Gibson: What?

Ware: Drake!

Ware's best friend drops the leg flat and just begins jumping up and down on it.

Gibson: Unorthodox move here, but nevertheless effective as Drake continues to punish the only Achilles heel Kosidlo has.

Ware: That's his knee, Gibby. Lay off the sauce, it's work time.

Drake hulks up.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Gibson: And the crowd lets Drake know exactly how they feel about him.

Ware: It's a love-hate thing. They'll cheer him soon.

Gibson: Drake now dragging Kosidlo up, and Kosidlo can hardly put any pressure on that knee – punch to the gut by Kosidlo! Drake with a right hand now! These two are going back and forth, and I'm amazed Kosidlo can even see his target at this point.

Ware: All he can see is red DOUBLE ENTENDRE.

Gibson: Drake driving a knee in to the midsection of Kosidlo – twice now – three times – four times – BUT NOT A FIFTH!

Ware: I need a fifth!

Gibson: Kosidlo has the leg – CAPTURE SUPLEX FROM KOSIDLO! Capture suplex and that took everything Kosidlo had to get Drake up and over on that bum knee of his.

Ware: His knee asked me for change once.

This is where the referee does the obligatory ten count of doom.

ONE!


TWO!


THREE!


FOUR!


Gibson: Kosidlo's moving slightly, but I haven't seen Drake do anything more than twitch.


FIVE!


SIX!


Gibson: Kosidlo on his knees now.

Ware: Now? Try all the time DOUBLE ENTENDRE.


SEVEN!


EI--

The referee doesn't make it to eight. Kosidlo manages to get to his feet, of course. Somehow, someway, he is standing, and that doesn't bode well for Duncan Drake, who would be standing if the ring was vertical. Joshua Kosidlo limps over to Drake, who is still motionless on the ring.

Gibson: I don't think Duncan Drake has anything left in him.

Ware: Boobs.

Gibson: MacKenzie now, pounding the ring mat, trying to get Drake's attention and failing. Kosidlo certainly succeeds though, as he lifts Drake off the ground – a couple of right hands, and Drake is punch drunk!

Ware: Speaking of sucking dick, have you seen that movie?

Gibson: We weren't talking about – Kosidlo pushes Drake against the ropes – right hand, and Drake bounces back off the ropes – right hand, and again Drake bounces back.

Ware: Weeble-wobble, weeble-wobble...

Gibson: Kosidlo with the Irish whip – Drake holds on now – Drake with a clothesline attempt, but Kosidlo ducks it – BELLY-TO-BACK SUPLEX!

Ware: Oh look, they do fall down.

Kosidlo pulls Drake back up.

Gibson: Kosidlo with the go-behind --

Ware: Is that like a reach-around?

Gibson: -- and CRUSHES Drake with a German suplex! He isn't done yet, though!

Ware: Glutton.

Gibson: Kosidlo holding on to the waist, and he's dragging Drake up again – ANOTHER German suplex! Kosidlo up again, and Drake down again! Kosidlo just suplexing the shit out of Drake right now!

Ware: Watch your tongue!

Gibson: Kosidlo has him up for a fifth German suplex – he sends Drake over -- but Drake flips out of it and lands on his feet! His momentum takes him to the ropes, and he bounces off – THE KNIFE TWIST! THE KNIFE TWIST!


AT&T Replay

Drake hits the ropes, and bounces towards Kosidlo at a high rate of speed. Drake grabs him as he goes by, reaching around his torso, with one arm across the opponent's chest with his hand holding onto his other hand, locked behind the opponent's head. Their momementum carries them around in a complete circle before Duncan stops on a dime, falling backwards to drive Kosidlo into the mat face-first.

Ware: DRAKE!!~!

Gibson: The Knife Twist out of nowhere, and Kosidlo never saw it coming! Drake, completely out of it, somehow managed to muster up the momentum to perform such a devastating maneuver, and now both men are down on the mat.

Ware: Pin him!

Gibson: Drake now, draping an arm across Kosidlo...







ONE!










TWO!










THREE!








Gibson: AND DRAKE STEALS THIS ONE!

Ware: THERE IS A GOD!

Gibson: Somehow, someway, Duncan Drake has clawed and scraped and water-bottled his way to a victory, and Joshua Kosidlo just had too much to handle in the two of them. You have to give Kosidlo a ton of credit, he was in control for most of this match, but somehow Drake continues to find a way to win.

Ware: Exit the Drake!


AT&T Replay

Kosidlo with the diving shoulder block outside.
Drake with the reverse bulldog.
Kosidlo nails Drake with a bear hug suplex.
Drake with those vicious shots to the knees.
Kosidlo with the capture suplex.
MacKenzie kicking Kosidlo in the balls.
Kosidlo with the repeated German Suplex.
And then finally, the Knife Twist to end the match.

Ware (wiping a tear from his eye): That was beautiful.

Gibson: My God, Eugene. We've seen some great action here tonight, and thankfully for all of us, it isn't close to ending. Up next we have...

• Young Lion's Cup Semi-Finals
• Joaquin Pierre
• versus
• Elliott Rollins

Gibson: Okay! Time for the first of the two semifinal matches in the Young Lion's Cup!

Ware: This isn't a match I'm going to be excited about.

Gibson: How can you say that? These are two fine competitors!

Ware: But... okay, Rollins? I mean, really? Rollins? And the other guy? Totally French. I mean -- French man. How do I choose?

Gibson: While you're going through that quandary, let's head up to Jason Myers, in the ring, for the introductions.

Dave Gibson is a lot of things -- a dyed in the wool, hardcore lover-of-things old, and not the biggest Eugene Ware fan in the world among them. But he's not a liar. Indeed, there is Jason Myers! He is in the ring, he has a microphone, and he is about to begin.

So let's do that.

Myers: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL with a thirty-minute time limit and is a SEMIFINAL match in the 2007 YOUNG LION'S TOURNAMENT!

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Myers: Introducing FIRST!

All lighting in the arena dims drastically, only the barest glow around the staging area as the sound of a guitar is head and the FUSEWire comes to life. A cross appears on the screen, made of two swords, and on each blade is a name. Joaquin on the vertical cross, and Pierre on the horizontal. At this, the crowd goes nuts as "Cold (But I'm Still Here)" by Evans Blue hits the speakers.

Hello, I'm your martyr, will you be my gangster
Can you feel my trigger hand, moving further down your back
When you hide, hide inside that body
But just remember that when I touch you
The more you shake, the more you give away

Myers: He hails from PARIS, FRANCE, but now resides in New York City and weighed in tonight at two hundred FIFTY-TWO pounds!

As the chorus begins, a single bright spotlight illuminates the stage area, shining down directly on the form of Joaquin Pierre, who stands perfectly still, his head bowed as if he in praying. He wears a black hooded sweatshirt and carries in one hand his ever-present cane sword, the handle of which forms a cross, and a double-sided flag featuring the French tricolor and the Stars and Stripes of the United States.

Cold, but I'm still here. 'cause I'm so blind, say never
We're far from comfortable this time.
Cold, now we're so cold, mine, and you're not mine say never
We're far from obvious this time

Gibson: Joaquin Pierre is perhaps the most talented wrestler in the field tonight, only matched by his opponent tonight.

Ware: But THAT guy is American!

Gibson: Pierre lives in New York!

Ware: I used to work in New York. That barely counts.

Pierre slowly raises his head and pulls down the hood of his sweatshirt, allowing his cobalt blue eyes to sweep the cheering fans before locking on the ring before him. He begins a slow walk to the ring, acknowledging the fans good natured cheering of Old Glory and booing the French tricolor, but not taking his eyes off of the ring.

Wait another minute here, time will kill us after all.
Now can you feel its second hand, wrapping around your neck
So fall into my eyes and fall into my lies
But don't you forget
The more you turn away, the more I want you to stay

Myers: He is the French Guy! He is... JOAQUIN! PIIIIIIIIIIIIERRRRRRRRE!

Cold, but I'm still here. Blind. Cause I'm so blind. Say never
We're far from comfortable this time.
Cold, now we're so cold. Mine. But you're not mine. Say never
We're far from comfortable this time

Ware: ...The French Guy?

Gibson: That's his nickname, yes.

Ware: That's all he could come up with? He speaks two languages, but... "The French Guy"?

As the second verse ends, Pierre makes a complete circle around the ring, stopping to hand his sword and flag to the timekeeper to hold onto. As he finishes the circle, he does a vertical leap, landing on his feet on the ring apron, and then again jumping over the top rope.

You're so endearing - you're so beautiful
Well I don't look like they do, and I don't love like they do.
But I don't hate like they do, am I ever on your mind?

Cold, but I'm still here. Blind. Cause I'm so blind.
We're far from comfortable this time
Cold, no we're so cold. Mine. But you're not mine.
We're far from obvious this time

He walks to each corner of the ring, at each corner pounding his chest with a fist three times before throwing the fist into the air and bringing the crowd to their feet. As the song reaches its final verse, he moves right to the center of the ring, bowing his head and closing his eyes. He pulls the sweatshirt off over his head and tosses it into the crowd.

COLD, you broke me from the very first night
I'd love you till the day I die.
I'm far too comfortable this time.
COLD, I love you from the very first night
You broke me till the day I died
I'm far too obvious this time

Pierre raises his eyes, locking them on the rampway, and throws shadow punches and kicks, warming himself up for the upcoming battle.

Gibson: Joaquin looks very much ready for this match -- he's had a lot of success in FUSE, and I think that he's right on the cusp of getting to that level here in FUSE.

Ware: I think he needs a new nickname. And perhaps to not be French any more.

Gibson: Are we really going to go the whole match with you just making French jokes?

Ware: Pretty much, yeah.

Myers: And his opponent! The number-one contender to the FUSE LiveWire Championship!

Ware: One of them, anyway.

Myers: ELLIOTT! FUCKING!! RRRRRRROLLLLLINNNNS!

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The crowd goes nuts as crunching guitar riffs and blast beats fill the arena.

I'm a monster so don't walk my way
Don't trust my smile my teeth are like knives
I'll drag you down and suck you dry

The FUSEWire fills with images of past matches. Elliott Rollins locked up with Prince Pride. Rollins landing vicious right hands on Gideon Fontaine. Rollins sending Timo Bolamba over the top rope with a belly-to-belly suplex. Rollins lands a devastating head-and-arm suplex on Duncan Drake, both men crashing at ringside. The images become fast and visceral, an onslaught of battles that Rollins has had in his short career thus far in FUSE.

Don't laugh at my jokes - the punchline is murder
Don't enjoy my touch - every caress hides a chokehold
I'm only happy when I've ruined everything I see
Believe everything you've ever heard about me- suck it up

Smoke rises as Elliott Rollins appears through the entrance to another pop from the crowd. He is dressed in the traditional white 'Slayer' tee, black denim shorts, and black wrestling boots. He has a grin on his face, allowing the rush from the live audience to feed him. He begins headbanging to the music, and when he pumps two fists in the air, two shots of pyro go off in sync.

Behind him, his manager, William 'Slick Willy' McDormant makes his appearance, standing in the shadows and allowing his young student his chance to shine. As the smoke clears from the pyro, Rollins is intense as always, his eyes targeting the ring as he and his manager begin the long walk to ringside. Rollins extends his hands, slapping hands with the crowd but his eyes never leave the ring.

Ware: Seriously, why do they keep letting this headbanging fan walk down the ramp?

Gibson: That's Elliott Rollins, Eugene.

Ware: THAT'S Elliott Rollins? Right -- I saw him get hit in the face by a camcorder earlier tonight.

Don't laugh at my jokes- the punchline is murder
Don't enjoy my touch - every caress hides a chokehold
I'm only happy when I've ruined everything I see
Believe everything you've ever heard about me - suck it up

Rollins reaches ringside and slides under the ring, popping up quickly and hitting a ring post. He holds a hand in the air, his eyes scanning the crowd. McDormant opts for the stairs, as he wouldn't want to get his nice new suit dirty.

Ware: Here's what I don't get.

Gibson: Ohgodwhatnow.

Ware: Seriously, Gibbo. Let me ask my question.

Gibson: (sighs) Fine.

Ware: Why is Slick Willy hanging out with this guy? I mean, he's Slick Willy. And that's Elliott Rollins, a deformed jagalope from somewhere in, I don't know, Pennsylvania or something.

Gibson: Why do I even bother?

Ware: Because I am irresistible!

(SFX: DING-DING-DING!)

Gibson: Thank god there's the bell.

Ware: I was not done with my dissertation!

Gibson: This should be quite the technical contest, Eugene.

Ware: Until they get punchy. My vote is that it's jagoff that throws the first punch.

Gibson: Do I even want to know which one that is?

Ware: Pick one and it will be right!

Gibson: Collar-and-elbow tie-up in the middle of the ring.

Ware: How exciting!

Gibson: Pierre and Rollins are about the same height, but the Frenchman's got almost twenty pounds on Elliott.

Ware: Someone did some research!

Gibson: That's our job, Eugene!

Ware: Maybe yours. Mine is to talk about bananas!

Gibson: Pierre shoving Rollins back into a neutral corner!

Ware: Are there any non-neutral corners? Corners that have perhaps declared war on the rest of the world?

Gibson: Rollins puts his hand up -- will we actually see a clean break?

Ware: I dunno, the odds are 50/50, I'd say -- Joaquin IS French, after all.

Gibson: Joaquin raises his hands and backs away!

Ware: Aw! C'mon! Give a Ware a chance!

Gibson: Rollins in, ducks the lock-up attempt, locks on a waistlock!

Ware: You're excited.

Gibson: I am -- this is a fantastic bout!

Ware: It's a waistlock! Look, I've been broadcasting with you for a while now, and it's been fine, good, whatever. But you need to understand that you do not need to sell the waistlock!

Gibson: Rollins with a takedown and he leaps forward, locking on a side headlock. Pierre grabs hold of a wrist, rolling over and bridging into a hammerlock!

Ware: Stop it with the wrestling thing! All this movement makes me seasick!

Gibson: Rollins with a clubbing blow to the midsection, breaking Pierre's bridge, and, as both men pivot to their feet, Rollins with a heel trip and a standing seated senton! Sharp, crisp movement from the number-one contender to the LiveWire belt!

Ware: Man, if it's this boring when he wrestles a normal match, imagine when the DeadWire Rules are in place!

Gibson: Rollins now -- drops a leg across Pierre's throat and we've got our first pin attempt of the match!


ONE!

Ware: Hah! What a weak attempt!

Gibson: Not even a one count! Rollins back to his feet, pulls Pierre up with him, side headlock... Pierre with a forearm shot, backed Elliott up into the ropes, shoots him across the ring! Shoulderblock from Rollins on the rebound!

Ware: Rollins on the Rebound! Sounds like a kick-ass band for that Henry Rollins guy. I wonder if they're related.

Gibson: Elliott off the far rope again, Pierre pops to his feet -- ippon seoinage!

Ware: I'm sorry, I thought this was on American TV!

Gibson: That's a judo move, Eugene -- a one-armed shoulder throw, and it's the reason that Elliott fellow is on the ground.

Ware: Ohhh. I just thought Joaquin kinda threw him across the ring.

Gibson: That's what I just said!

Ware: No, you said it was a Yip-pawn sausage!

Gibson: Pierre drops a double knee to Elliott's chest, then shifts to a reverse jack-knife pin!

Ware: Damn European-style wrestlers!

Gibson: ONE!



TW--kickout! Rollins shoots the shoulder up!

Ware: It's going to take some time to get this done!

Gibson: And Joaquin rolls over to a cross-arm breaker! Going right to work on the arm he used to --

Ware: -- don't say those words again, David Kenneth Gibson!

Gibson: (sigh) To THROW Rollins across the ring.

Ware: Better.

Gibson: And he's got the arm submission cinched in tight and is in the middle of the ring!

Ware: Tap out! Tap out so I don't have to hear these fans chant again!

Gibson: Elliott puts one foot solidly down on the mat, other fist in the air and -- I think he's going to try to stand!

Ware: That's not the way to break this hold! Even I know that!

Gibson: Rollins manages to get to his feet! Pierre's shoulders are down!

ONE!!






TWO!!!


Ware: I told you this isn't the way to break the hold!

Gibson: Pierre leverages Rollins back down to the mat with a hard yank on that arm!

Ware: BREAK IT OFF! I'd like to see someone take another guy's arm home. Y'know, as a trophy.

Gibson: Rollins again trying to get to his feet!

Ware: I think all that headbanging has damaged brain cells.

Gibson: Pierre clutching, Pierre pulling, Pierre yanking! But Rollins! Rollins will not be denied! We've seen the tenacity of Rollins before!

Ware: You say tenacity; I say stupidity. It's a po-tay-toe/poh-tah-toe thing.

Gibson: What's he doing now? What's Rollins doing now?

Ware: I don't know... he's not trying a pin or something smart.

Gibson: And he's not trying for the ropes -- he's...

Ware: No.

Gibson: Rollins is trying to LIFT Pierre! Joaquin Pierre is a two hundred fifty pound man, Eugene! He's a two hundred fifty pound man!

Ware: Is he INSANE?

Gibson: WHAM! WHAM! Modified one-arm suplex! Modified one-arm suplex by Rollins!

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Gibson: Rollins is down, though! He's down and he's clutching that arm! Elliott's trying to get some feeling back in his arm!

Ware: He's lucky he didn't rip the damn thing out of his socket! Although -- woulda been cool.

Gibson: Rollins is down! Pierre is dazed! Can we get another look at that?

AT&T Replay

Watch as Elliott Rollins tries initially to reach out for the top rope, but he can't get there. Pierre rolls his shoulders up to prevent them from touching the mat. So Rollins grits his teeth, shifts his stance, and pulls, eventually putting his free hand underneath Joaquin's hips to guide him over. The Frenchman lands heavily on the back of his neck. Rollins falls to his knees.

Gibson: Pierre climbing to his feet -- the Frenchman's got to be sensing some weakness here, doesn't he, Eugene?

Ware: You've gotta think so. I mean, Rollins has an injured arm and all.

Gibson: Holy crap, you just did your job.

Ware: They do pay me, you know. My contract says I am required to do precisely seven "color comments" every year. And that was, I believe, the seventh.

Gibson: You read your contract?

Ware: Come on, are you kidding! Of course not! I had other people read it to me to the dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra.

Gibson: I'm not even going to ask. Pierre stalks over to Rollins, still favoring that left arm and -- ROLLINS! Rollins with the right-armed clothesline!

Ware: I'd call him intelligent, but he still thinks Slayer is cool.

Gibson: Rollins retreats to the corner -- I think he's getting some feeling back in that arm. Pierre up again, flying into the corner, under a second clothesline, floatover into the single-arm DDT! Right back to work on that arm!

Ware: Yadda-yadda, wear a guy, yadda-yay.

Gibson: And Joaquin turns the move into a wakigatame armbar!

Ware: Why does he have to have a bunch of moves that I can't say the name of! Do you realize how much I hate the easy joke?

Gibson: Rollins turns, rolls through! He rolls through to release that pressure!

Ware: Elliott Rollins is the only luchador ever named "Elliott".

Gibson: Rollins drops a lightning quick elbow across Pierre's back -- but that was the bad arm! That was the bad arm, Eugene!

Ware: I'm tellin' you -- kid's got rocks for his brain.

Gibson: Pierre's clutching at his lower back, though he's getting to his feet -- Pierre going to clutch at the arm again, Rollins snatches it away!

Ware: Give him your arm and you'll never get it back, Rollins!

Gibson: Pierre going for the arm again and again Rollins puts it behind him! Elliott's smartly -- WHAM! Jumping knee-strike to the side of the head by the Frenchman!

Ware: That'll loosen your marbles!

Gibson: And it also makes Rollins less cognizant of the arm -- which Pierre now has hold of! Pierre switches behind Rollins and hooks a hammerlock. Rollins pulls Pierre forward leaps up to the top rope still in the hammerlock! Elliott jumps down to the apron and the referee beginning the five-count for Joaquin to break the hold!

Ware: He couldn't just stick his foot out? He had to jump OVER the top rope like some kinda big damn showoff?

Gibson: Pierre breaks the hold and Elliott slips off the apron -- looks like Rollins is going to be chatting with his new manager here.

Indeed, Rollins is on the outside of the ring, chatting with Slick Willy. Willy is smacking his fist into his hand.

Ware: Yeah! Tell him to punch at Joaquin!

Gibson: They're having a perfectly fine scientific contest -- why would William McDormant want this to devolve into fisticuffs?

Ware: Because this is BORING.

Gibson: Pierre steps to the apron -- looks like he's had about enough of the strategy session! Running start -- Thesz Press off the apron!

Ware: But Willy got out of the way!

Indeed, for once, Eugene Ware is not lying to us, either. At the last second, Slick Willy McDormant slide-steps to the side, making certain not to get hit by any of those flailing arms and legs. He adjusts his suitcoat with a grin.

Gibson: Pierre pops back up to his feet and Willy raises his hands innocently.

Ware: But he IS innocent!

Gibson: I doubt that fact entirely.

Ware: You are biased!

Gibson: Pierre pulls Rollins back to his feet, locks on the front facelock -- suplex on the outside? No! Blocked by Elliott!

Ware: Which guy do I choose? I have to root for someone or I have no purpose!

Gibson: Rollins turns this into one of his own -- WHAM! Across the security barrier! He just dropped the Frenchman chest-first across the security barrier!

Ware: I can't do it. I can't cheer for that. Don't get me wrong -- violence is awesome. But still -- it's Elliott Rollins, man. ELLIOTT ROLLINS.

Gibson: Now what's Rollins doing? He's going to the apron himself! "What's good for the goose is good for the gander," he's saying!

Ware: I doubt very much he's saying that.

Gibson Elliott leaps off the apron -- Joaquin! Joaquin levers himself off the barrier! My god -- that's a planche! Straight out of men's gymnastics! What upper body strength as Pierre holds himself PARALLEL to the security barrier and --

THHHHHWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCK!

Ware: Eats a knee to the chops! Can get all fancy and European as you want, but you can't beat good, old-fashioned American know-how.

Gibson: Joaquin Pierre's been knocked into the crowd and -- Elliott! What's he doing! He's got a chair! C'mon, don't! Don't --

Ware: DO IT!

Gibson: He's... okay, we were hasty there, he's just setting the thing up, though McDormant doesn't look happy about this whole thing.

Ware: Because he wasn't going to SWING the chair!

Gibson: Rollins nudges Willy out of the way, gets a running start and -- JIMINY!

Ware: ...jiminy?

Gibson: He just jumped off that chair into the crowd! Elliott sails over the security barrier into a cross-body block! Both men are outside the ring!

Ware: Get to counting, referee! If neither of these guys wins, that will mean I have less work to do tonight!

Gibson: Ryan Davis has a ten count to work with here! If both men are counted out.... I don't know what will happen with this tournament.

Davis: ONE!!

Ware: Clearly, the winner of the other semi will win. Which will be GREAT!

Davis: TWO!!

Gibson: Elliott to his feet -- picks up Pierre out there! Waistlock -- I think he's going to try to German suplex Joaquin back into the ringside area!

Ware: Genius! German suplex a French guy and he's SURE to surrender!

Davis: THREE!!

Gibson: Rollins hefts -- Pierre! Pierre rolls through! Pierre lands on his feet here at ringside! Rollins turns and steps onto the security rail and jumps into a clothesline!

THHHHHWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCK!

Ware: Airmail! One set of Slayer fan teeth! You could probably sell them on eBay.

Gibson: JOAQUIN PIERRE JUST KICKED ELLIOTT ROLLINS' FACE OFF!

Davis: FOUR!!

Gibson: Pierre slow to get to his feet! I think Elliott Rollins may be completely unconscious!

Ware: Like that's different than his normal day-to-day existence?

Davis: FIVE!!

Gibson: Joaquin pulling himself up by the apron, but Rollins hasn't moved since he got cold-cocked coming off the barrier!

Ware: Good. Let him stay there.

Davis: SIX!!

Gibson: Joaquin back into the ring -- you know, the actual French pronunciation of his first name is "joe-ah-keen," not "hwa-keen."

Ware: WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS.

Gibson: I just thought it was interesting. I think I've been mispronouncing it a good deal of the time, but I'm a country boy.

Ware: You're also not a frog.

Davis: SEVEN!!

Gibson: Pierre rolls into the ring -- he's safe, but will Rollins break his count? He's starting to stir on the outside, uh, impelled shall we say by William McDormant.

Ware: It's called shouting, Dave. Also works with small children.

Gibson: Elliott reaching blindly for the ringpost.

Davis: EIGHT!!

Ware: He'd better hurry.

Gibson: Indeed -- Ryan Davis is up to eight now, but Rollins has found his feet, can he find the ring?

Ware: I don't think he could do that before he had his brain kicked out.

Davis: NINE!!

Gibson: Rollins with one foot on the apron and -- WILLY WITH A SHOVE! Shades of the Bush-to-Leinart push, Rollins is back in the ring, only this time, it's legal.

Ware: Still holding a grudge? That was a lifetime ago.

Gibson: Pierre runs across the ring as Rollins tries to get to his feet -- leaps to the top with no hands! Back into the ring -- ASAI MOONSAULT! He's got the leg hooked!


ONE!!








TWO!!!








NO!! Rollins just barely gets the shoulder up!

Ware: Flippy Frenchmen flick frowns on my fecund form.

Gibson: What?

Ware: It's a tongue twister! Try it at home, children!

Gibson: Pierre gets to his feet, pulling Rollins with him.

Pierre shouts to the crowd, because they like those things. "C'est fini! Au revoir, mon ami!" This is what the crowd does in response.

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Gibson: Pierre is calling for the end here!

Ware: I think we got that.

Gibson: Rollins thrown across Pierre's shoulders, time for the Au Revoir! Pierre spins Rollins out -- Rollins pushes off Pierre's shoulders! Rollins pushes off, spins Pierre around! Kick to the midsection! Standing headscissors! Hey, Eugene!

Ware: Hey, what? I'm trying to --

Gibson: ALLEY-OOP! Reverse powerbomb across the top rope! Pierre lands throat first across the top rope!

Ware: Do not cut me off, Gibson!

Gibson: Haha. Rollins off the ropes -- clothesline! Pierre back to his feet! Clothesline again! Blocked, reversed! Backslide -- now that's reversed! Rollins with a backslide of his own!


ONE!!








TWO!!







NO! So close!

Ware: They're moving fast again!

Gibson: Rollins to his feet again, pulls up Pierre by the arm -- knee to the midsection, rechambered, drops the leg into a rocker-dropper!

Ware: Make them stop moving so fast!

Gibson: Rollins to the outside! He's going upstairs, Eugene!

Ware: To STD's office? Doesn't that usually happen between matches?

Gibson: I meant to the top rope.

Ware: Oh. Gotcha.

Gibson: Could be time for Reckless Endangerment -- but Pierre pops back to his feet! Pierre going to throw Rollins off! Rollins -- lands a solid kick to Pierre's face! The Frenchman stumbles back! Elliott leaps -- top-rope sunset flip!


ONE!!!












TWO!!!









NO!

Ware: Why won't this torture end?

Gibson: This is one of the most spectacular WRESTLING matches we've had on our airwaves in quite some time, Eugene.

Ware: My point exactly.

Gibson: Rollins up, blocks another attempted kick from Joaquin with both hands! Pierre spins around in the ring, backfist! Rollins underneath that! Rollins locks on the full nelson! Up goes Pierre! DOWN goes Pierre! Full nelson bomb!

Ware: Zip-zip-zip. I need some booze. Really, these guys could sit down for a while and I would be okay with that.

Gibson: Rollins to the apron again, he's waiting on Pierre to get up -- Lord knows what he's got planned now.

Ware: Probably something that involves a splatter sound.

Gibson: Pierre up! Rollins leaps to the top rope! Pierre! Pierre runs to the corner, races up the turnbuckles and delivers a snap-kick to the gut!

Ware: This move he's about to do... it has a French name, doesn't it?

Gibson: Pierre locks on a waistlock, has him in the side-slam position -- yes, Eugene, I think it's the Bonne Nuit!

Ware: Sigh. We get it. You're French.

Gibson: Pierre setting up for that moonsault side-slam... Rollins holds onto the top rope! Rollins has his arm wrapped around the top rope!

Ware: Like can do anything, face-up in Pierre's arms?

Gibson: Pierre with an overhand right to Rollins' face! Pierre is trying to get Rollins to let go! But Rollins won't let go! Rollins is wriggling!

Ware: Spear him! Spear him like a frog's leg!

Gibson: I thought you weren't rooting for anyone.

Ware: I'm not. Strictly impartial. But it's a chance to land a frog's leg joke.

Rollins manages to pull him out of the side-slam to a seated position on the top turnbuckle, though Joaquin still has hold of the LiveWire contender's legs. Pierre throws a forearm. Rollins reaches back to the connector between the turnbuckle and the ringpost and shoves.

Gibson: They're overbalanced! They're overbalanced!

Ware: Leverage is a bitch. I want to fuck leverage. I like them nasty.

Rollins rides Pierre awkwardly to the mat. Joaquin smartly lets go of the legs (otherwise Elliott would ride down right on the Frenchman's ribcage. Instead, Rollins manages to roll over and ride Pierre down. This is pretty much the antithesis of the textbook cross-body block, as Pierre hits rather high up on the top of his shoulders and back of his neck.

Gibson: Cross-body block... of sorts!

Ware: That's... unique.

Gibson: Rollins does have the leg hooked!


ONE!!














TWO!!












THREE!


Ware: He got him? Man, we have more Rollins to look forward to?

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

(SFX: DING-DING-DING)

Myers: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner, advancing to the FINALS of the Young Lion's Cup! ELLLLLLLLIOTT!!! FUCKING!!! ROOOOOOOOLLLLINNNSS!!!

Gibson: What a fantastic bout! I don't think there was a single punch thrown in that entire match!

Ware: I KNOW HOW BORING RIGHT?

Gibson: Why are you shouting?

Ware: Because it seemed to require it.

Gibson: Elliott Rollins advances to the finals of the 2007 Young Lion's Cup tournament, where he'll meet the winner of our second semifinal match, still to come tonight! We've got a helluva lot more show, folks, so stay tuned... here on Showtime!

Ware: Home of the L-Word, which is about lesbians! Let's scissor, Dave!

Gibson: ...no.

• Steel Cage
• Aimz
• versus
• Timo Bolamba
• versus
• El Diablo

“Feed my Frankenstien” by Alice Cooper is playing through the arena. A large man is parting the curtains and smiling as he walks towards the entryway. It is “The Canadian Heart Throb” Caleb Alan. The fans are booing and the women are cheering as he is making his way ringside to where Dave Gibson and Eugene Ware are. They look up at him wondering why he is there.

Caleb: My apologies Mr. Gibson. I can only assume that Mr. Duluth is busy with a stripper or a particularly intriguing letter in Penthouse forums. Gideon has gotten clearance for me to commentate in this match. I think there may have been a bribe involved but he never went into details and quite frankly I only want a chance to see what clothes Miss 84 is almost wearing up close.

Gibson: Gideon has sent YOU to commentate this match.

Caleb: I told him that I was a big fan of yours. Why it was just the other day he told me about you, Timo, and some Asian guy whose name I forgot. He said that Danny Gibson is a hell of a……

Eugene is laughing and Dave looks annoyed.

Gibson: The name is Dave Gibson.

Caleb: Of course it is. I really should pay attention more. He told me you were announcing now and Dave Gibson sounds a lot better then Danny. You should have used that name when you were wrestling.

Eugene lets out a snort of laughter as he sees the look on Dave’s face as he is listening to Caleb.

Gibson: You are an idiot. Screw it. I’m going to the back and getting something to drink then I’m going to have a long talk with Gideon.

Ware: See you after the match…… Danny.

Ware is laughing his head off as Dave Gibson gets up cursing under his breath and giving both of them looks of annoyance. Caleb is sitting down putting on a headset and Gibson is walking to the back.

Caleb Alan: Danny seems a tad hostile. I think perhaps he needs to get some. Honestly I’d hate to even imagine the stress involved in going without sex for long periods of time.

Ware: Well, if he hurries I might be able to sneak him in the last twenty minutes I have the hookers secured for in my dressing room.

Caleb Alan: You pay women for sex? I have heard about that custom and quite frankly I disapprove. Paying for sex is something more suited to marriage.

“Death in Fire” by Amon Amarth accosts the crowd and the raucous fans explode as the words “The Samoan Silencer” flash across the FUSEWire.

Ware: AH! Holy F%$k, every time that music hits I shit myself!

Caleb: He is a fan favorite the fans respect Mr. Bolamba’s dedication and drive as he is entering the ring to the music of some god awful Independent band. I can only blame a head injury for the selection of that music.

Ware: You aren’t a fan of Amon Amarth?

Caleb: I’m not even able to fathom the language they are attempting to speak. I think I have it narrowed down to Russian, German, an Icelandic dialect, or Texan.

“The Samoan Silencer” himself steps out from under the entryway, Tiki Torch blazing in one hand, and he spins it around, much to the delight of the fans. He pauses and gestures several times, holding his torch high in the air before making his way to the cage.

Ware: Someone has been giving Timo false flags and messed up messages, and I don’t know if he’s very happy about it!

Caleb Alan: I was talking to Gideon before the match and he told me that Timo was more worried about getting too close to Miss 84’s nether regions.

Ware: Wait, is he insinuating that Timo is gay? Like Samoan Butt Sex gay?

Caleb Alan: No no no…Dear god no… I do not need any of those images running through my head. Why looking at half of the men in this Young Lion’s tournament I have to wonder if this is a wrestling company or a reality show for juiced up ex boy band members and male prostitutes. Have you ever watched any of the Alien movies?

Eugene nods.

Caleb Alan: Gideon was comparing contact with Miss 84’s lower regions to that toxic acid blood they have… Imagine poor Timo. A simple go behind generally quite innocent unless you are wrestling in Memphis where I believe it is a form of polite greeting. Then all of a sudden BAM. Dick burned off. Not burned…BURNED OFF.

Ware: Wait wait wait…what about Darcy Crisis?

Caleb smiles and nods.

Ware: Wow, that sure explains a lot, doesn’t it?

Back to the action, Timo has now made it ringside. He pauses and takes off his patent shark toothed necklace. He finds a youngster with an amply chested mother and drapes it around his neck shortly before producing a Sharpie and tattooing his phone number on her chest.

Ware: You know, it’s times like these that I really wish I was a wrestler.

Caleb Alan: Not everyone is blessed with a body chiseled from granite and the virility of Atlas himself. There is hope for men hideously fat and out of shape like yourself. Ron Jeremy has made quite an impressive living in the Adult Entertainment industry. I took the liberty of preparing this short shill for Timo though, so ladies, if you are listening…

Caleb clears his throat.

Caleb: Ladies Mr. Bolamba will be staying at the Holiday Inn. Room 512 I believe and I’m told his nickname beer can isn’t related to his drinking prowess. It is related to the girth of the Samoan Sausage and if the rumors are correct a good 9 and a half easy.

Eugene looks at Caleb in confusion.

Ware: Why in the hell are you talking about Timo’s dick?

Caleb: Gideon asked me to put over his friend Timo and I don’t know what else to mention other then him having a larger penis then the women in this crowd will ever see on something not possessing 4 legs and hooves.

Timo grabs a chair with each hand and waits to enter the ring. Aaron Rogers is checking Timo for weapons and when his hands go to Timo’s hips there is a snicker from Timo that causes him to remove his hands quickly then go to the kneepads and boots.

Caleb: This makes little sense to check a man for weapons yet completely ignore the chairs he has in each hand.

Ware: Well he isn’t exactly the smartest referee. I’ve heard that there he isn’t allowed to referee last man standing matches because no one knows if he can count to 10.

“Almost Easy” by Avenged Sevenfold starts playing and the fans cheer.

Caleb: Finally Miss 84 is coming to the ring.

Ware: Why do you call her Miss 84 anyway.

Caleb: Because when you have sex with over 80 different women on a given day you really can’t be bothered to remember names. I do remember the tattoo on her posterior because it was something that held my interest for almost half an hour.

Aimz appears at the top, her hands high. She is walking to the ring when she looks at ringside and sees Caleb Alan sitting there. When Caleb waves she waves back…… Well if you call the gesture that she made with one finger raised towards Caleb a wave.

Ware: She doesn’t like you very much.

Caleb: Gideon has explained it all to me. Miss 84 has gotten married to some person named Darcy. As he put it. Being married to Darcy will likely make her insane or a Lesbian. He said she had to be insane to marry him in the first place so I assume that means she must have a fondness for comfortable shoes and movies involving Gwyneth Paltrow.

Ware is snickering as Aaron Rogers starts patting down Aimz for weapons.

Ware: This is the first time that Aimz has gotten groped without a 20 dollar bill changing hands.

Caleb: So that is how much she charges. She really should charge more to weed out the riff raff like that gentleman there. MISS 84 IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO MAKE 100 AFTER THE MATCH I WOULD PAY THAT FOR A LAP DANCE!!

Ware cringes when he hears those words. You can see the sudden look of anger and rage in her eyes as she looks at the smile on Caleb. Aimz starts yelling obscenities at Caleb and looks to be going to beat the living hell out of him. As soon as she goes towards Caleb a man jumps the rail and cracks Aimz in the side of the head with a chair.

Caleb: You really need better security here.

The man removes the hat and the brown wig falls to the floor. The camera zooms in on the man and it is El Diablo in street clothes!!

Ware: El Diablo just jumped Aimz from the crowd!

Caleb: He really should invest in some ring attire. If I saw him in the back I would assume he was one of those backstage lackeys you get to fetch your water or a coffee.

He starts smashing the chair across Aimz back 3 times and once across her right shoulder then walks to the cage door. Diablo waits for Ryan Davis to unlock the door with a dented chair in his right hand. As Diablo is entering the ring Aaron Rogers grabs the chair from Diablo’s hand. This leaves an opening for Timo to crack Diablo in the ribs with the chair.

Ware: I wouldn’t want to be Diablo right now.

Caleb: I can’t say I blame you there. The man is obviously a tad crass and I suspect that if he was asked to take a drug test he would likely need 3 attempts to hit the cup.

CLANG!!!! The sound of metal on metal echoes throughout the arena. Timo is cursing and drops the chair holding his hands in pain as Diablo kicks him square in the crotch with a vile soccer kick. Diablo is snickering as he opens his jacket and starts uncoiling the chain he has wrapped around his chest. As he is threading the chain through the door and the cage Ryan Davis tries to stop him but is punched. Diablo pulls a padlock out of his jacket pocket and locks the cage door.

Ware: Diablo was prepared for this and he’s gonna fuck up Timo.

Caleb: This really is unprofessional. I’d assume that FUSE would have a chain already here and he wouldn’t have to bring one with him. Do you realize that somewhere near here there is a bike unprotected from theft?

As this is going on both Aimz and Timo are getting to their feet. Diablo picks up the chair Timo has dropped and throws it at Timo’s face. This knocks him back and Diablo runs at Timo with a baseball slide taking the legs out from under him. Diablo is kicking at the right ankle of Timo after the baseball slide keeping Timo from getting back to a vertical base before chopblocking that leg.

Caleb: This is the time where I look at the notes Gideon wrote for me and mention something of interest for the wrestling fans watching…… This can’t possibly be correct Mr. Ware. The Caleb Spike is nearly 11 inches and Gideon just a shade under 12 himself. With such blatant steroid use by this Diablo fellow he cannot possibly have the largest dick in professional wrestling.

Ware: What?!

Caleb: Ah I stand corrected. I misread that. It appears in his haste to write me up notes for the match Gideon’s handwriting leaves a tad to be desired. It says that El Diablo “IS” the biggest dick in professional wrestling.

While Timo is down Diablo grabs a chair and swings it at Timo’s leg. The Samoan Silence is starting to recover and grabs the chair and the 2 men struggle for possession of the chair. Aimz can be seen at the cage door cursing as she sees it is locked and starts screaming at Diablo. The words aren’t clear but you can tell from the enthusiasm she is saying them with that they are likely very graphic in nature. Diablo suddenly stops pulling on the chair and throws it back sending Timo staggering back as he picks up the other chair.

Caleb: I don’t think that what she is saying is even possible Mr. Ware.

Ware: There are porn videos that show guys doing a hell of a lot worse then what she said.

Caleb: I realize that but I think with his drug use even maintaining an erection is wishful thinking at best. Plus I’d be very surprised if it was long enough to be capable of reaching there.

Ware: One word Caleb. Viagra.

Timo swings at the head of Diablo as it is ducked. Timo jumps a swing at his right leg by Diablo. As Timo lands he limps from the earlier shots. With the opening Diablo kneelifts the chair into Timo’s chest hard. As both men are down on the ground from the chair shots Aimz starts climbing the cage. Seeing that Aimz is halfway up the cage Diablo tosses the chair at Aimz hands causing her to drop 10 feet to the floor with a sickening THWACK!!!!

HOLY SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT!!!

Ware: OUCH!

Caleb: I’ll have to give her the name of a good doctor. If she had bought herself a decently large set of breasts she would have had a much softer landing. Plus they can hold a lot more 20 dollar bills after she is done her pro wrestling career.

Timo swings the chair hard at the head of Diablo but he dodges it as Timo is snarling at him. He sees that Aimz isn’t moving from that sickening drop to the floor and is pissed off. He manages to corner Diablo and drops the chair and bull rushes Diablo into the corner post. The fists are going at the head and jaw of Diablo as he is covering up from the assault of Timo. Ryan Davis is starting to regain his senses and is starting to get to his feet.

Ware: It is about time the referee got up.

Caleb: Truly pointless. A man that size trying to maintain order is much like a poodle trying to hump a great dane. It is amusing and somewhat tragic to watch but you know the poodle has no chance of doing anything but leaving a wet spot on someone’s leg

Ryan Davis looks to the outside and sees Aimz being attended by EMTs. Timo grabs Diablo by the hair and smashes him face first into the cage multiple times. A back elbow to the jaw of Timo gets Diablo free. While Timo is stunned Diablo uses that opening to reverse Russian legsweep Timo face first into the cage with a CLANG!! Diablo is trying to shake out the cobwebs and Timo is on the mat dazed.

Caleb: I think I should say “my god that sadistic monster seriously hurt him” to help show all the fans how brutal that move was.

Ware: That’s pretty good you sounded sincere. I lost interest when Aimz splatted on the floor.

Caleb: Quite frankly the fans are only watching this match in hopes that Miss 84 pops out of her clothes. Still these men are in the ring and we should really talk about the match at least until the strippers come out.

Ware: STRIPPERS!!

Aimz is being helped back to her feet when she sees Timo laying on the mat and blood on his forehead. Diablo notices Aimz and goes to where she is standing and points at Timo. He blows on his knuckles and nonchalantly dusts off his hand on his T-shirt mocking Aimz. This pisses her off and she throws back all the EMTs trying to get her to the back. Timo is getting to his feet dazed and feels the blood on his forehead. Once he sees the blood he snarls. As soon as he hears the noise Diablo turns as Timo charges and drives him backfirst into the cage. The CLANG!! Echoes through the arena and the cage shakes from the impact.

Ware: Tell me more about the strippers.

Caleb: They are women with large and often surgically enhanced breasts that men pay money for states of partial nudity. I’m told it is similar to marriage minus the larger breasts and the states of partial nudity

Ware: Not that! I mean when are they coming out!

Timo is driving Diablo’s back into the cage. The EMTs on the outside are trying to get Aimz to go to the back for medical help when she pops one in the face with a right hook. The others see her punch him and the blood on her hand from the guys nose and suddenly decide to back off this crazy woman. Timo Northern Lights Suplexes Diablo and holds the bridge. With adrenaline coursing through his veins the Samoan Silencer rolls and does 3 more rolling Northern Lights Suplexes before driving Diablo into the cage with a Northern Lights Fracasplex. The CLANG!!! Echoing through the arena.

TIMO!!! TIMO!!! TIMO!!!

Caleb: The fans really love this Timo fellow.

Ware: The fans are also the same reason Seinfeld had multiple seasons.

Aimz is starting to climb the cage in obvious pain. There are 2 women walking to the ringside area. The more forgiving person would define what these ladies are wearing and in the blonde’s case attempting to wear as bikinis. Unfortunately said bikinis possess less fabric then a decent sized handkerchief. Timo is picking up Diablo by the hair as he watches Aimz slowly trying to climb the cage out of pure stubbornness and anger. The women sit on the laps of Eugene Ware and Caleb Alan.

Ware: You are my favorite wrestler EVER!!

Caleb: Of course. I am everyone’s favorite wrestler.

Timo doesn’t see Diablo reaching into his pocket. Aimz is nearly halfway up the cage when Diablo sprays Timo in the eyes with Mace. Timo is clawing his eyes in pain trying to clear them. Diablo watches Aimz climbing the cage and picks up a chair. Timo swings wildly and Diablo is measuring him. He looks at Aimz and points to his ass then cracks Timo in the head with the chair causing the chair to break with a snap of metal. The seat of the chair dented and bloodstained on the mat next to the unmoving Timo Bolamba. Aimz is nearing the top of the cage and Diablo picks up the other chair.

Caleb: Pardon me for your seat getting a tad uncomfortable miss. Miss 84 truly possesses a very nice posterior and the Caleb Spike is starting to make itself known.

Tanya: No problem big boy.

She is giggling and Ware isn’t paying attention as the blonde’s breasts are obscuring Ware’s vision of pretty much everything in the arena. Aimz is at the top of the cage and looking at Diablo with a look of hate in her eyes. Diablo is waving his finger no at Aimz and motioning to the chair in his hand showing he is going to hit her with it if she tries to get in the ring. There are several tense moments. With a scream Aimz flips over the top of the cage and crashes on El Diablo and the chair he’s holding.

HOLY SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT!!!

Everyone is on the mat not moving and Ryan Davis motions for the bell to ring to officially start the match.

Ware: It’s over! Who won! Can I keep the stripper!

Caleb: Miss 84 just did one of those flippy lucha things and dove on that Diablo fellow. She seems to take lap dancing very seriously but I’d recommend waiting until he sits on the chair first.

None of the people in the ring are moving. The impact of a steel being snapped over a man’s head has Timo down. An undisclosed weight between 100 and 200 pounds driving a steel chair into the head and shoulder of Diablo has him down. A drop 15 plus feet onto hard unforgiving wood and steel has Aimz knocked nearly unconscious. Ryan Davis looks at the 3 people in the ring. There is a silence in the air.

Caleb: I will attempt to call the action. The brunette sitting on my lap has moved and the Caleb Spike is now shifted to a more comfortable position. As for in the ring none of them are moving. Would you like to say anything Mr. Ware?

Ware: Huh? Oh go Diablo! What a move!

Caleb: You do realize he hasn’t moved.

Ware: He hasn’t? Oh…… Go Timo!

Caleb is shaking his head and smiling as Ware continues to stare aimlessly into the silicon valley of the blonde on his lap. Timo starts moving. Aimz rolls to her left side and starts trying to get up. Diablo is shaking the cobwebs loose and is getting up to a knee. They are slowly getting to their feet. Timo and Aimz start circling Diablo.

FUCK HIM UP!!! FUCK HIM UP!!! FUCK HIM UP!!!

Ware: Whoa!! Kinda forward of the fans. I like it!! I’m game baby!!

Caleb: I think they meant the man in the ring is going to be messed up somewhat severely by Miss 84 and Timo. Diablo has gotten under their skin quite a bit and I can only assume that they are going to do something violent. By the way miss before I forget your breasts are quite remarkable. If I wasn’t so familiar with all the different breast augmentation procedures I would think your breasts are completely natural. Not that I’m complaining mind you. They are very comfy and appealing to the eye.

Timo lunges for Diablo with a clothesline that he dodges. Aimz cracks Diablo in the side of the head with a flying shin kick. Diablo is knocked back and Timo bull rushes Diablo into the cage. The cage shudders from the velocity of the impact and Timo is burying shoulders into the ribs of Diablo. Aimz builds up a head of steam and clotheslines Diablo. Timo and Aimz smile. Diablo is getting mauled by forearm shots from Aimz and shoulders to the ribs by Timo.

Ware: What a move by Diablo!!

Caleb: I know the average wrestling fan is a tad dull-witted but I really think that holding up your arms and saying “Mommy please don’t hurt me anymore” while Timo and Miss 84 beat the living hell out of you is likely not considered a move.

Ware: Oh: Then go Timo!! Kick his ass!!

Timo and Aimz grab Diablo by the hair and run Diablo full speed into the opposite side of the cage face first. Diablo bounces off it hard and you can see a large gash on his forehead where he hit the cage hard. Timo points to the turnbuckle as he is picking up Diablo and Aimz nods. With Aimz climbing the rope Timo picks up Diablo. With a smile Timo drives Diablo head first into the mat with a DDT and Aimz goes flying off the top with the Dead Aim. She lands on the back of Diablo causing him to let out a cry of pain.
She goes for a pin and the ref starts counting. 1… 2… Diablo kicks out.

Timo: My turn.

Timo is picking up Diablo and hooks him up for a suplex. After lifting up Timo he holds him in the air and then after a minute spins him in midair and chokeslams him from the vertical suplex.

Caleb: That was an interesting move. I think I will have to use that some time.

Ware: There was a cool move? I’ll have to watch it on the replay.

Caleb: You really should pay more attention Mr. Ware. Truthfully I was more impressed by Miss 84s rear end as she jumped but that move by Timo was pretty nice.

Timo goes for the pin and the ref starts counting. 1… 2… Diablo rolls a shoulder at the last minute. At ringside Ware shifts so he can see the cage. Timo and Aimz are talking and thinking about what they should do now.

Ware: Come on!! hit her Timo!!

Caleb: You want Timo to strike Miss 84?

Ware: She is a ROYAL bitch!

They walk over to Diablo and are picking him up. Diablo rakes Timo’s eyes and kicks Aimz in the knee dropping her to her knees and forearms Timo across the jaw hard. Diablo grabs Timo and Aimz by the backs of their heads and smashes their heads together. They are stunned and Diablo starts climbing the stage quickly before they can recover.

Caleb: Ah the match will be over soon. I’m sure the Caleb Spike must be very uncomfortable. I can’t guarantee that it would be anymore comfortable but I’ll feel a lot better. That is assuming of course that your blood testing is in order.

Ware: You make them take tests before having sex with them? You are my idol dude!

Caleb: Men like Gideon and myself often make time for 100s of our female fans in the run of a week. It would be reckless of us not to have proper testing done to make sure that……… How to put this. “Drilling for oil doesn’t land us in a septic tank.”

Diablo is halfway up the cage when Timo and Aimz start climbing up after him. Diablo is climbing over the top and they are all at the top of the cage. Timo and Aimz are trying to pull Diablo in by the hair. Diablo with a headbutt knocks Aimz off the cage and she goes sailing back and crashes on the mat hard hitting the back of her head. Timo and Diablo are punching each other.

HOLY SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT!!!

Timo!!! Timo!!! Timo!!!

Caleb: How do you say please don’t hurt me here is my wallet in Spanish Mr. Ware?

Ware: Why would you want to know that?

Caleb: Looking up I see Diablo and while I don’t speak Spanish it looks like this table is speaking it fluently if he falls our way.

Ware: OH CRAP!! I’M TOO SEXY TO DIE!!

Timo rakes the eyes of Diablo and is suplexing him from the top of the cage. At the very last second Diablo grabs the top of the cage and gets loose. Both men come crashing down to the mat hard. Diablo hits hard on his spine while the momentum from the superplex off the cage has Timo landing hard on his shoulder and the back of his head. None of the 3 wrestlers are moving.

HOLY SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT!!!

Ware: Wow!!

Caleb: I can’t understand why a person would want to climb over the top of the cage. I can see letting the rookies do it because they can be replaced by a member of the janitorial staff which likely is better groomed and dressed. Look at Miss 84 for example. When she eventually does Playboy or some other pornographic endeavors do you really want to see scars and bruises? It would be a lot like looking at the wife of Jason Kidd.

A big Samoan must be over 7 ft tall and over 350 pounds steps over the rail and walks to the cage door. He's bald, and has a scar running down his face. One look at this man and you know that behind those eyes there is an angry man that cares nothing about anyone or anything. He kicks the cage door hard and you can hear a CLANG!! Those have to be steel soled work boots to give that kind of metal on metal sound. Aaron Rogers is trying to stop him but gets grabbed by the neck and lifted off his feet with one arm. In the ring no one is moving from the falls from the top of the cage. After Aaron Rogers blacks out from loss of oxygen and blood to the head from the large hand of the Samoan he is tossed away like garbage.

Caleb: You do really need better security.

Ware: What the hell is that.

Caleb: Since he is Samoan I have 2 guesses. The first is that Timo has nailed the wrong man’s daughter. My other guess is that Miss 84 is going to do a Bangbus photo shoot and he is too horny to wait for the fans to leave before the taping starts. Either way I’m sure someone is going to be his bitch.

CLANG!! You can see the look of fear in Ryan Davis’s eyes as he sees the big man kicking the cage door and the impact causing the entire cage to shudder. Timo groans and rolls to his stomach. Diablo stretches out his leg from the mat and puts it over Aimz’s chest. The ref starts counting 1… 2… 3… The referee is motioning that the match is over.

Myers: Your Winner!! The Mexican Devil!! The Master of Manipulation!! The Creator of Controversy!! El Diablo!!

CRACK!!!!

The door hinges break from the kicks and the big Samoan enters the ring as Diablo is starting to get to his feet. The big man walks past Diablo and Aimz and pulls Timo roughly to his feet by the back of the neck and then grabs him by the throat.

Caleb: Too bad I was really hoping for option 2.

Ware: Look at the size of that guy!

Diablo goes to Aimz and dropkicks her in the head as she is trying to get to her feet. The big man picks up Timo and chokeslams him against the cage. Timo is staggering on his feet after hitting the cage but can’t stand dropping to the mat holding his throat. Diablo is unlocking the door and unwrapping the chain. While Diablo is busy with the door trying to get the chain Aimz picks up the chain and smashes it hard across the back of the large man. The big man is gritting his teeth at the pain as he pulls Timo up by the hair. There is a second and a third chairshot by Aimz. The THWACK of metal on flesh and bone echoes through the arena. You can see the pain on the mans face but he is blocking it out.

Caleb: Shouldn’t security be coming out to do something when a fan jumps the rail?

Ware: He’s gonna turn any second and murder her on live TV. This is AWESOME!!

Caleb: He doesn’t seem to care about anything other then hurting Timo. I shall have to make a memo never to have sex with this man’s daughter or wife.

As Aimz is hitting the big Samoan with a chair a fourth time she is blindsided by El Diablo in the side of the head with the chain. The big Samoan grabs Timo by the neck and lifts him up in the air. You can barely hear the words “Sila Mauga”. After those words the big Samoan converts the chokeslam into a neckbreaker.

Caleb: I like this guys style. I never would have thought of doing a neckbreaker while holding a guy up in a chokeslam.

Ware: What in the world did he say? Sounded like Silly Mocha.

Caleb: Whatever happened to a person at least learning a few words of English before they commit a felony in the ring. Not that I don’t understand the message he is sending but I really hate reading subtitles saying “fuck yo momma bitch” or whatever that translates to in English.

Diablo is chaining Aimz to the corner wrapping the chain around her waist and the ropes. The big Samoan grabs the cage door and brings it over to the corner and grabs Timo dragging him to his feet. Diablo walks over to the big Samoan and taps him on the shoulder and points to the corner. There is no reaction and he drops Timo and stares at El Diablo with a look of cold hatred. El Diablo motions that he will lift up Timo and help him. The big Samoan is going to the top and El Diablo is picking up Timo and putting him on his shoulders for what looks like the electric chair.

TIMO!!! TIMO!!! TIMO!!!

Aimz is struggling to get free but the chain is wrapped around her tightly keeping her in the corner. She is looking on in horror as the big man stands on the top and Timo is on El Diablo’s shoulders. Security is coming from the back being led by Branch. Gideon Fontaine and Dave Gibson with an iron pipe are close behind.

El Diablo: This is for Lane Stevens…… Cunt!!

There is a scream of rage and fear by Aimz as El Diablo walks over to the corner. The big man hooks the arms of Timo and with amazing power lifts him up and Tiger Drivers Timo off the top rope onto the cage door. There is a THWACK and rattle of metal as Timo’s body is driven down onto the cage door from over 10 feet up. Aimz slumps in the corner as she sees Timo’s body laying on the door and him barely breathing. The crowd goes deathly silent.

Ware: HOLY SHIT!! HE KILLED TIMO!!

Branch and his security are going after the big Samoan. El Diablo climbs up the cage and is at the top smiling. Gideon and Gibson go over to Timo. The big Samoan lays out 4 of the security guards before Alan Branch pulls a taser out of his jacket pocket. The big man is still standing from the taser but the second shot drops him to the mat and security is picking up the big Samoan and handcuffing him.

• Young Lion's Cup Finals
• Elliott Rollins
• versus
• Duncan Drake

Gibson: What a night it has been so far.

Ware: I feel cheated to be honest.

Gibson: Cheated? We've had an amazing display of young talent here in FUSE, a cage match to remember --

Ware: Yeah that's great and all. But where are the tits? The boobs, the angel cakes, the gum drops, dueling banjos, bra buddies, beanbags, headlamps, mushmelons, sugarplums, sweater puffs, mau maus, maraschinos --

Gibson: I think we get it.

Ware: The balboas!

Gibson: That sounds more like balls than anything.

Ware: Oh, so sorry Mr. Creativity! The man that brought us such zingers as…

Gibson: As what?

Ware: My point exactly.

Myers: Ladies and Gentlemen it's time for the main event of the evening.

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Ware: The Duncan Drake and Crew Christmas Special continues!

Gibson: I'm just oozing with excitement.

Ware: You really should save comments like that for your blog on gay.com.

Are those guitars we hear? Think they are. Believe you're accustomed to this song by now. Chevelle. "I Get It". The racing acoustic guitars are joined by an image on the FUSEWire.

Ware: Oooh! What's he going to show us?

It's Rodeo Drive, all glitzy, high-end shops lined with palm trees. Expensive (like, well into the six-figure range) cars breeze down the Avenue of Avarice, where the pretty people get their pretty things to take home to their pretty life. Sometimes for their pretty cats. The trouble with all of this is...

Gibson: That's not even in...

The typist's skill is speedier, a rapid-fire rat-a-tat-tat as Gibson speeds.

HOLLYWOOD

Gibson: ...Hollywood.

Ware: They gotcha!

So you say you're ignored
As it is
Well give us your sad, sad trip

Myers: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is the FINALS of the 2007 FUSE YOUNG LIONS TOURNAMENT!!! Introducing first!

Can you say, "PYRO GO BOOM-BOOM," kids?

******SKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEV-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!******
******SKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEV-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!******
******SKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEV-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!******

Red. White. Black (yes, there's black pyro -- shut up). We've been saving that array explosions, just for this one. Sure, people don't like this guy. Sure, this means he's been through an awful lot. Sure, he's about to get publicly crucified by his opponent.

BUT THIS IS THE MAIN EVENT AND WE WILL HAVE A MOMENT.

Myers: He stands six-foot-two and weighs in and two hundred and thirty-five and three-quarters pounds! The self-proclaimed Favored Son FUSE Never Had!

Ware: He lost a quarter pound tonight! Wrestling is fantastic exercise!

We have a new message on the screen. Don't deny it -- you're dying to know what it is.

DUNCAN DRAKE FOR PRESIDENT OF AWESOME

You're right - I get it
It all makes sense - you're the perfect person
So right - so wrong
Let's all live in your imaginary life

Myers: He... (Jason pauses to read from his card) ...will NOT be accompanied to the ringside area by the Belle of the Ball, MacKenzie Malone!

Ware: GASP! NO! I must see her! She is like the air I breathe! The food I eat! The poon I wish to stick my wang in!

Gibson: Why do I think it's a bad thing that she's just conveniently isn't coming down for the most important match?

Ware: I think she has a hair appointment, is all.

Gibson: Right now.

Ware: Uh-huh.

Gibson: During the most important match in Duncan Drake's life.

Ware: Sure, sure.

Assumed is whether
We're right or wrong
We're doomed, and there's plenty for all

Myers: He is YOUR HOLLYWOOD HELLLLLLION!!! (Myers gestures expansively with his card.) HE!!! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS!!!

Ware: I wanna do it too!

Myers: DUNNNNN-CANNNNNNNNN!!!

Ware: DUNCAN!

Myers: DRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!!!!

Ware: DRAKE! Damn, I can't say it that long. Probably because of all the meth I did when I was a kid -- DON'T DO DRUGS, KIDS! Then you'll never be a gay ring announcer!

Gibson: Are you quite, quite done?

Ware: Quit--no, wait -- ENTER THE DRAKE.

How dare you catch me counting?
How dare you call at all?
How dare you call it suffering?
How dare you call at all?

Shimmering fireworks and thunderous explosions swallow the entranceway, creating a black hole singularity, which sucks in the stadium, the state of Texas and the entire universe.

Or not.

But it's really, really loud, and in its wake stands a right-bastard of a man with gelled-up brown hair, deep red tights with the word "HELLION" scrawled in an Olde English font down one leg, black boots, and a smirk that just won't quit.

Oh, yeah. There's no t-shirt this time. Aw, we know you're disappointed, but -- here's a secret. The t-shirt company (which is actually not the back of Eugene Ware's van, as awesome as that idea is) didn't actually think he'd make it to the finals. He'll yell at them later.

Ware: Whaddafux up with the no shirt! How do you from mocking Christianity last match Christmas to nothing?

Gibson: I smell a rat.

Ware: They told me that was pepper steak!

You're right - I get it
It all makes sense - you're the perfect person
So right - so wrong
Let's all live in your imaginary life

So he walks bare-chested and, without that you-know-what on his arm and a t-shirt that says something offensive, he just looks like a "real" wrestler. A slightly scrawny wrestler. With a smirk that still makes you wanna punch him. But he's still semi-wrestler-looking.

At least for now. Let's be honest -- if you don't think Something Is Up, then you might as well turn off your television set, because, clearly, you're too dumb to be watching professional wrestling.

Drake clambers into the ring as the music dies down and --

Gibson: Aw, crap, who the hell gave him a microphone? Myers, you're supposed to protect those things!

Drake: I just want to tell you all that...

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Ware: That's not really deserved -- he hasn't said anything yet!

Gibson: I think it's a general principle thing, Eugene. His actions tonight deserve all this and more.

Drake: As I was saying.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Drake: Y'all can keep booing, you ain't getting your main event until I get to talk.

That shuts them up -- but only a little.

Drake: I just want to say that... this town sucks.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Gibson: NOW will you admit that was called for?

Ware: He might have a reason!

Gibson: Is there ever a reason for that?

Duncan raises a hand, beseeching for silence. It takes a moment, but he gets it.

Drake: So there we are, right? Kenzie and I, enjoying some of your "vittles" to celebrate exactly how, well, how totally awesome I've been tonight. And, hey, I know you Texans like your barbecue sauce on, like, everything, but those ribs they're serving in Section 18? I totally think they've got E. coli, and I've called the health inspector on your stand.

Ware: Wa! Isn't that the same place I ate?

Gibson: You don't know?

Ware: I can't count that high when I'm craving ribs!

Gibson: You could have ended that sentence at "high" and I would've believed you.

Drake: Now my Kenzie is in the back, getting' all sick in her cute little belly. And I'm out here and, hey, Guy Whose Name I Can't Be Bothered To Learn?

Drake glances down the rampway, pointing a finger.

Drake: I'm doin' this for my girl. An' you? Can't get in between a boy an' something he's doing for the twat-juice. Boo-yeah! Now, that is a good, old-fashioned...

We don't think Duncan Drake is ever going to get to tell us what his catchphrase is. Because there's another guy -- coming out RIGHT NOW.

Myers: And his opponent..

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Myers: Hailing from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania standing six foot three and weighing in at two hundred and thirty-five pounds.. Here is..

“ELLIOTT. FUCKING. ROLLINS.”

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The crowd goes nuts as crunching guitar riffs and blast beats fill the arena.

## I'm a monster so don't walk my way. ##
## Don't trust my smile my teeth are like knives. ##
## I'll drag you down and suck you dry. ##

The FUSEwire fills with images of past matches. Elliott Rollins locked up with Prince Pride. Rollins landing vicious right hands on Gideon Fontaine. Rollins with a belly-to-belly, sending Timo over the top rope. Rollins landing a devastating head-and-arm suplex on Duncan Drake, sending both men crashing at ringside. The images become fast and visceral, an onslaught of battles that Rollins has had in his short career thus far in FUSE.

## Don't laugh at my jokes - the punchline is murder. ##
## Don't enjoy my touch, every caress hides a chokehold. ##
## I'm only happy when I've ruined everything I see. ##
## Believe everything you've ever heard about me- suck it up. ##

Smoke rises as Elliott Rollins appears through the entrance to another pop from the crowd. He is dressed in the traditional white 'Slayer' tee, black denim shorts, and black wrestling boots. He has a grin on his face, allowing the rush from the live audience to feed him. He begins headbanging to the music, and when he pumps two fists in the air, two shots of pyro go off in sync.

Behind him, his manager, William 'Slick Willy' McDormant makes his appearance, standing in the shadows and allowing his young student his chance to shine. As the smoke clears from the pyro, Rollins is intense as always, his eyes targeting the ring as he and his manager begin the long walk to ringside. Rollins extends his hands, slapping hands with the crowd but his eyes never leave the ring.

## Don't laugh at my jokes- the punchline is murder. ##
## Don't enjoy my touch, every caress hides a chokehold. ##
## I'm only happy when I've ruined everything I see. ##
## Believe everything you've ever heard about me- suck it up. #

Rollins reaches ringside and slides under the ring, popping up quickly and hitting a ring post. He holds a hand in the air, his eyes scanning the crowd. McDormant opts for the stairs, as he wouldn't want to get his nice new suit dirty.

Ware: Sir Duncan Drake is not impressed with Elliott's monkey shenanigans.

Gibson: Like he's one to talk with his 42 different ring entrances.

Ware: Since when was dressing for the occasion considered a crime?

Gibson: Since it started cutting into our sponsor time.


** DING! DING! DING! **


Gibson: Here comes Rollins, he's charging in immediately towards Drake!

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Gibson: And Drake just high tailed out of the ring.

Ware: Genius strategy by Drake.

Gibson: Run and hide?

Ware: No! Cat and mouse, dumbass.

Gibson: More like lion and lamb.

Drake paces on the outside finally coming to a stop near the railing where he lifts his right leg up on the steel gating and leans forward.

Ware: Safety precautions by Duncan Drake.

Gibson: He's stretching ten seconds into the match!

Ware: He doesn't want to pull a muscle and get hurt.

Gibson: Then maybe he shouldn't have taken up wrestling.

Finally Drake straightens up and hops up onto the apron and then steps in. The two men circle, and for once it looks like Elliott Rollins has found an opponent who is even more cocky than he is... as Drake is grinning at him... that is, until...


SSSSLLLLAAAAAPPPP!


Ware: Holy Crap! Rollins starts off with an ILLEGAL CLOSED FIST to the mouth of Drake! Call for the bell, Rollins should be disqualified!

Gibson: Duncan is in a rage. He charges Rollins who drop toeholds the younger man to the mat! Drake's anger clouded him, and Rollins took advantage, but still barely took the speedster down! Now, with Drake on his face, Rollins with a nice roll... locks on a front face... no, he lets go of the face-lock, and just starts slapping him across the head with both hands!

Ware: Rollins is trying to make Drake look like a fool! Normally this is what Drake does!

Gibson: Now THAT'S a stretch.

Rollins stands back up, looking down at Drake and smiles... and then backs off. Drake stands back up, and just stares at Rollins before leaping up in less-than-the-blink-of-an-eye (literally!), and takes Rollins down with a sloppy Hurracanrana from a standing start! With Rollins down, and disoriented Drake stands right back up and is a blur of motion as he whips his body back into a standing moonsault! He barely is able to get his body around as he crashes down on Rollins.

Gibson: It may not be perfect form, but Drake is evolving right in front of our eyes.

Ware: Give the man his Oscar!

Drake presses off his hands , shooting back to his feet, but no
sooner is he there than he lunges forward again... forward rolling, and landing a backsplash squarely onto Rollins!

Gibson: Drake off the ropes again, and he EATS Rollins's knees on that leaping, fourth senton!

Ware: Now you can take a breath!

Drake hits Rollins's knees, and rolls off, landing on his face! Rollins is back up, and now he's not laughing... he takes a breath... and then pulls Drake back up, from behind, muscles in a back waistlock... and flips him back and overhead with a release German Suplex! Drake is launched by the power and fury Rollins puts into the move, and flips two hundred and seventy degrees...




WHAAAAAAAAAAAAM!!!




...and lands directly on the front of his head, collapsing into the corner!

Gibson: What ferocity by Rollins!

Ware: That can't help him juggle all the women in his life.

With Drake down on the mat, just starting to pull himself up Rollins stands over him and reaches down...

Gibson: Rollins takes immediate advantage. What a suplex! Making full use of his power advantage, and he turns Drake inside-out with it! Now Rollins taking his time, methodically hooking one arm... double underhook...





THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!!!





Crowd: OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!


Ware: Jesus, this match got dead serious, real quick!

Gibson: And Rollins yanks him all the way up... and smashes him down with that double underhook piledriver!

With Drake looking dead to the world for the moment Rollins stands back up, looming over his opponent. He looks down, then nudges Drake with his foot a bit. Drake barely moves... and Rollins looks out to the crowd as if to ask "Is this it?" then yanks Drake up by his hair (ignoring the referee) and . . lets go of him? Rollins stands there for a second, looking at Drake, who still looks like he might collapse, then shakes his head at him. A quick double bicep flex by Rollins ( Rather Impressive ) and then just shoves him roughly towards a corner. Drake stumbles into the corner, facing the crowd not quite knowing where he is, Rollins shrugs again... charges forward.. and lowers his shoulders...

Gibson: SPEAR! Spear by Rollins and only the corner is holding Drake's body up!

Rollins grabs Drake from behind, lifts him up, and seats him on the corner, still facing away from him then he steps in, and with a quick spin, he goes back to back with Drake. Then he reaches up and hooks around Drake's neck, grabbing his own wrist with his free hand...

Gibson: Rollins has Drake nearly senseless at this point... What is this...

Rollins runs forward snapping Drake out of the corner by his neck then leaps forward and kicks out his own legs.





THHHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUDDD!!!





Gibson: Flying hangman's neckbreaker out of the corner by Elliott Rollins! My god, Rollins is pulling out every move in his repertoire tonight.

Ware: I've seen better.

Unsatisfied, Rollins climbs up to the top rope taking his time, balancing, stands straight on the top rope...

Gibson: We all know what this means, Rollins signaling for the end!

And he leaps...



Twisting his body.



Flipping.



And crashing down.



Ware: HE MISSES! He took too much time, and Drake rolled out of the way!

Gibson: Rollins went for the Reckless Endangerment and came up just short!

Ware: Something Drake has never had a problem with.

Gibson: You would know.

Ware: Get your mind out of the gutter, homo.

Drake rolls away, presses up onto his hands and shakes his head from side to side a few times... At the same time Rollins rolls over onto one knee, cradling his arm, as the jolt from the landing seems to have him stunned. Drake forces himself to his feet rapidly and takes off into a run. Drake steps off of Rollins's knee, with great agility and executes an absolutely dynamic basement-style dropkick right into Rollins's face!

Gibson: ... And look at the speed of Drake! The man is fast, I'll give him that.

Ware: And in a moment, he'll be King of the Jungle.

Gibson: Lets not get carried away.

Drake rolls out to the apron, and stands back up! He still looks woozy, but this young man only knows one speed and one direction... fast forward. He measures Rollins as he slowly gets up, and he slingshots himself to the top rope, and leaps off at an angle looking
like he wants to catch Rollins's head and drag it down into an Inverted Bulldog... ]

Gibson: Slingshot... into an bulldog?!

But instead, Drake's body just hangs seemingly forever in mid-flight and Rollins shows surprising quickness of his own, leaping up, and catching Drake over his shoulder and snapping him down in the opposite direction...




Crowd: GASP!





THUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!!!





Gibson: HUGE SPINEBUSTER SLAM!!! The ring just rattled with that one! Whatever Duncan Drake does, Rollins seems to have an answer for!

Rollins stands back up, and drops a vicious knee into the back of Drake's head! Then he stands back up, behind Drake, hooks his head into the crook of his arm and throws an arm in the air before bringing it slashing across the chest of Drake as he spikes his body down!

Gibson: INVERTED DDT!

Ware: Drake looks out of it!

Gibson: Rollins, going for the cover...

ONE!





TWO!





THR-

Ware: YES, KICKOUT!

Rollins stands back up, shrugging it off, and points to the corner of the ring.

Gibson: But Rollins isn't going to give up that easily, he's heading for the ropes.

Elliott Rollins climbs to the corner facing the crowd and looks out to them, smiling, as he stands up on the top
rope..

Gibson: I think... maybe...he could be trying this again!

And suddenly there's a commotion.

Gibson: The crowd is buzzing, I'm not really sure what is going on..

Rollins spreads his arms out wide and then lifts them overhead.

Gibson: RECKLESS ENDANGERMENT BY ROLLINS!!!




And with his knees bent, he begins to spring into the air...




Only to have a thin, feminine set of hands coil around the top ropes just as Elliott tries to absorb the spring from the ropes.




Gibson: MALONE!

Ware: Mac Baby in the house!

And Rollins tumbles to the canvas, landing square on his right knee where he collapses down in pain.

Ware: MacKenzie Malone saves the day through all the adversity and sickness! What a trooper!

Gibson: Shoving your finger down your throat so you stay under one hundred pounds is hardly considered being sick.

Ware: It's a disease that young, beautiful women battle with on a daily basis. Have you no heart?!

Drake gathers himself up, using the ropes to get to his feet and he winks to Mac who slaps down on the canvas, telling him to get going. He nods, and like a shark, begins to prey on the rising Elliott Rollins.

Gibson: Drake is sizing him up for something, what I'm not exactly sure.

Ware: The move of the century.

Gibson: I'll believe it when I see it.

And sure enough, as soon as Rollins is up, Drake grabs him and whips him into the ropes.

Ware: Here it comes!

Gibson: I'm on the edge of my seat. No, really.

As Rollins comes bouncing back Drake dips down, wrapping his right hand underneath the armpit of Rollins and flipping him up into the air...

Ware: YES!



Thud...



Ware: HOLLYWOOD HIP TOSS!!! IT'S OVER, CROWN HIM ALREADY!

Gibson: You've got to be kidding me.

Sure enough Drake covers him.. with one foot.. on top of Rollins' chest.. And he strikes the double bicep pose.





ONE!

Gibson: He kicked out already.

Ware: Slow count, what the hell was that?!?!

Drake begins yelling at the official as Rollins crawls up behind him, places his head between his legs, and then stands up.. Drake hoisted up on his shoulders.

Gibson: Rollins is gonna send him for a ride!

Ware: I still say it was a fast count.

Gibson: ELECTRIC CHAIR DROP! HE NAILED IT! Rollins is arching up into a bridge for the cover!


ONE!





TWO!





THREE!

Ware: TWO! He only got two!

Gibson: Indeed he did. Elliott Rollins pulling Drake up to his feet here, Eugene and... jaw breaker!

Drake reels back, clutching his jaw. Rollins leaps up...

Gibson: Jumping clothesline right across the jaw!

Ware: That's a way to get someone to shut up for a while.

Gibson: Drake down, I think he might even have a bleeding lip and... Rollins with a cover!


ONE!






TWO!






TH--

Drake kicks out with dome force.

Ware: Yes! Give him any room and he's going to get his shot in, Elliott. I swear it!

Gibson: He will. Duncan Drake has been in some wars tonight and against a better breed of wrestlers but he has found a way to beat them all. Elliott Rollins better be at his best here till the very end.

And tries to be, scooping the Hollywood Hellion up and planting him with a bodyslam. He looks down at him, running off the ropes...
stutter stepping and coming down on his sternum with both feet! OUCH!!!

Gibson: DOUBLE STOMP TO THE CHEST!

Ware: Blatant cheating again!

Gibson: Rollins off the ropes and... DRAKE MOVES!

And with a free hand, as he rolls away, he sweeps out Rollins's legs!

Gibson: One move too many by Elliott Rollins and it cost him, Drake up...

Rollins rolls over, getting up himself...

Gibson: ...AND HITS AN AXE KICK!

Ware: Ouch! Right in the back of the skull!

Gibson: Rollins bouncing chest first off the mat, his neck beaten to death by that axe kick... trying to get up and...


"THWAAAP!"


Ware: OUCH! DAMNNNNN!

Gibson: Kick right to the side of the head! He got him RIGHT in the ear there and...



THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!


"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Gibson: A SIDE SALTO SUPLEX DUMPS DRAKE RIGHT ON HIS HEAD! He went for the same move one too many times and Rollins caught him!

Clutching his neck he tries to roll away, only Rollina grabs him, rolling him back and his shoulders down.

Gibson: Forearm across the face! Another!

Ware: Eye gouge by Drake, that's one way to stop the attack!

And Drake immediately seizes the moment and blasts Rollins with a forearm that Elliott never had a chance to see coming and it knocks him flat on his back. Drake pounces on him, grabbing a fist full of tights as he makes the cover.

ONE!





TWO!





Rollins kicks out again, managing to get free and away as Drake argues counting with the referee. Holding his face, he rolls away, collapsing down to the floor. Drake turns... and is wondering where the hell his opponent went.

Ware: He's injured, get him Drake! Kill! Kill! Kill!!!

Gibson: He got out so quickly, Drake didn't even see him go... oh now he sees him! Elliott Rollins up, leaning against the
ring side barriers, still holding his neck. He looks bad and... MAC...



SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!



"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Ware: BITCH SLAP BY MACKENZIE! YOU GO GIRL!

The crowd goes NUTS as Drake just stands in the ring wide-eyed as Rollins body bends over the railing. He wonders around the ring before ascending the corner turnbuckle and climbing to the top of the corner nearest to Rollins.

Gibson: MacKenzie is waving her hands, she's screaming at Drake to get down!

Ware: Show her who wears the pants, Duncan!

So he does.. He points both hands down at Rollins and makes little pistols with his fingers, shooting down Rollins with his fingertips as he steadies himself up top. Finally he raises his hands and leaps..






...spreading his arms like an eagle...






...soaring through the air...







And smashing his body chest first into Rollins, both going down in a heap right in front of the crowd, right against the railing. STOMPING! CLAPPING! CHEERING!

Gibson: Eight matches in and they're still going crazy!

Drake pops up, arms skyward in celebration! Several Drake followers up front pat him on the back, high-fiving him and still cheering even
as he peels a dazed Rollins from the ground, rolling him into the ring.

Ware: These fans are actually loving him! All bitter, saying he's here to change wrestling as we know it and they still like him! Suckers.

Gibson: Duncan Drake is out to make a statement here ladies and gentlemen. He is absolutely taking it to Elliott Rollins, barely giving him any breathing room whatsoever! He's coming up onto the apron and... oh! Elliott Rollins with a shoulder to the stomach!

Drake bends over, holding his stomach. Rollins gathers every bit of energy he has left, grabbing the ropes and sling-shotting himself over, down the back of Drake. He holds his waist, feet flipping towards the floor...

Gibson: SUNSET FLIP TO THE FLOOR--BLOCKED! DRAKE IS HOLDING THE ROPES! HE IS BLOCKING THIS POTENTIAL MATCH ENDER AND...

...leaps up, turning perpendicular...






THHHHHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMPUGHHHH!






...landing back first across the bent in half backwards chest of Elliott Rollins.

Gibson: Oh... my...

Ware: ...GAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWD! ELLIOTT ROLLINS IS DEAD!

Gibson: A BACK SENTON OF SORTS RIGHT ACROSS THE CHEST, RIGHT ON THE APRON!

Ware: Did you say of sorts because the move was probably on accident?

Gibson: Dumb luck was more along the lines of what I was thinking.

Rollins flops away as Drake rolls under the ropes and back in... the crowd going EFFFFFIINN NUTSO!

Ware: Listen to these crazy bastards! Some of them are cheering The Hollywood Hellion breaking Elliott Rollins in half! Eat your heart out Timo Bolamba!

Gibson: What's that supposed to mean?

Ware: I have no idea.

Gibson: Elliott Rollins's spine is going to be a contorted mess after this match, win OR lose. He is out on the floor again, holding his back... Drake in the ring and... OH MY LORD! -- BIG ASS POP! – ANOTHER DIVING SPLASH OUT OF THE RING AND ONTO ELLIOTT ROLLINS!!

LOTS OF CLAPPING AND STOMPING!

Ware: Duncan Drake has went insane!

Gibson: Insane enough to put this Elliott Rollins away whenever he wants. He has absolutely BRUTALIZED him in these past couple
minutes!

Drake doesn't bother getting up too fast, sitting on the floor and reveling in the moment. Rollins simply groans in pain, writhing slowly... fighting back none as he's pulled off the floor and into the ring. Drake follows.

Ware: He's not even bothering with a pinfall attempt. He's just going to end this one.

Gibson: Elliott Rollins can barely stand whatsoever as he's once again drug up to his feet. Drake is shockingly dominant right now, as dominant as anyone tonight picking up Rollins, putting the him into a facelock and...




THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!




Lifts him for a normal looking suplex but drops him with a devastating brainbuster!

Gibson: BRAINBUSTER! ELLIOTT ROLLINS DOWN!

Ware: AND DRAKE UP!

Gibson: Way up! He's heading to the corner and up top! He's looking for air! He's looking to put down Elliott Rollins once and for all!

And the crowd senses it, coming to their feet, cameras out, cell phones open, everyone paying rapt attention as he perches on the very top turnbuckle... leaping!

Ware: MOONSAULT! DUNCAN FUCKING DRAKE WITH A MOONSAULT!!!












THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!!!












"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Gibson: NOT EVEN CLOSE!!! Duncan Drake got caught in the moment and went for a move waaaaaaaaay out of his league!

Drake bounced off the mat nearly head first as his body never completely flipped around. Rollins, lying in the corner, begins to pull himself up.. fighting his way to his feet.

Gibson: Elliott is up, he's moving towards Drake who is trying to get up himself. MacKenzie Malone is screaming at him on the outside.. Both men up! Drake lunges with a wild right, misses! Rollins staggers him with a right of his own.. kick to the midsection.. Drake buckles over!

Ware: Get out of there!

DG Rollins hoists him up, he's got him at his mercy!








THUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUD!!!








Gibson: EXPLODER!!! HE DRILLED HIM INTO THE CANVAS WITH THAT ONE! Rollins with the cover!






ONE!







TWO!






THREE!





Gibson: THREE?!

Ware: MAC PULLED THE OFFICIAL OUT!

Gibson: NO!

The official begins screaming at Malone on the outside who is halfway around the ring by the time he's up to his feet. Rollins quickly gets up, confused, and sees the official yelling at Malone. Mac, with her attention diverted towards the official, doesn't see Elliott coming towards her.

"RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Gibson: Elliott has Mac by the hair! He's pulling her up to the apron!

And as Mac squirms to break free, she manages to heave her full-sized shiny leather Juicy Couture purse into the ring. Drake, starting to put it together, crawls towards it and peels it open... pulling out... a framed 8x10 photo.

Gibson: You have to be kidding me.

Like a snake, he slithers up to his feet and almost expecting him, Rollins drops Mac and turns...










CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCKKK!!!










...right into a face full of glass!

Gibson: NO! NOT LIKE THIS! WHERE IS THE OFFICIAL?!

Ware: Attending to the woman that Rollins brutally attacked.

The official indeed is attending to Mac who pushes him off, yelling at him to get back in the ring. He peers up, seeing Drake covering the lifeless body of Elliott Rollins, and he slides back into the ring.






ONE!







TWO!








THREE!







** DING! DING! DING! **

Ware: YES, HE DID IT!

Gibson: This isn't right.

Ware: Duncan Drake defied the odds and battled his way through twelve men to win the first inaugural Young Lion's Cup!

Myers: HERE IS YOUR WINNER OF THE 2007 YOUNG LION'S CUP...

DUUUUUUUUUUUUNCAN! DRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!!!

Gibson: Elliott Rollins gave everything he had out there tonight and –-

Ware: And it wasn't enough, was it?!

Gibson: It was more than enough, he was robbed. Flat out, no question about it... robbed.

The camera zooms in on MacKenzie Malone raising Drake's right hand in the air as the pair hold up the large Young Lion's Cup over their heads together.

Gibson: This site makes me sick, he doesn't deserve that, nor does she.

Ware: At all costs, that's what I always say. They did whatever it took to win and they did. There's nothing wrong with that.

Gibson: Everything is wrong with that. Rollins had his number. He beat him at DEFIANCE and he should have beaten him tonight. This is far from over.

Slowly the camera fades.. but not before it zooms in on the broken glass at the feet of Drake.. the loose shards dangling from the 8x10 framed and signed autographed photo of one...

Duncan Drake.