Static covers the screen as a Play ► symbol appears in the bottom right-hand corner.


At home in complete and utter misery, Luke Storm sits on his daughter’s bed, looking at a photograph of her. He hasn’t seen her in going on months, now. He thought that last week, both he and Edward had come together with a common goal but The Riddler outwitted him once more.

Suddenly, The Cryptkeeper appears.

Luke doesn’t even flinch.

“I warned you, did I not?” He growls, standing opposite The World Champion. “And I shall warn you once again.”

The Champion looks up.

“They’re here.”

With that warning heard, Storm jumps up and looks outside the window to see two black vans empty of men in black suits, Berkshire Ellison Green stood at the forefront. He’s come for Luke Storm.

The World Champion turns back to face The Cryptkeeper, who’s vanished just as quickly as he arrived.

The men burst into the house, storming the downstairs.

Only their warm is abruptly cut off.

Because in their way are the duo of Banzan and Aesop.

As the battle begins, Luke Storm climbs out of the bedroom window and leaps from the porch roof onto Green, tackling him to the ground. He delivers thunderous right and left hands, punching the absolute shit out of him.

All of his frustration, right there, on the face of BEG.

Inside the house, bodies fly left and right as the formidable duo of Banzan and Aesop more than hold their own against Green’s thugs.

Between punches, Storm grunts and growls.

“Why does everyone think they’re smarter than me?” He groans after another fierce right. “You don’t come for me, the Storm comes for you!”

By the time Aesop and Banzan drag Storm off of BEG, his face is a bloodied mess and he’s unconscious.

He walks away, shaking free his bloodied and bruised hands.

Banzan turns to his friend.

“Thank you for your assistance, old friend,” he says with a knowing nod.

“Of course. But why do you involve yourself in their fight, Banzan?” Aesop queries, confused. “You should take advantage of their distraction.”

“I see the field as it is whilst involved in their quarrels,” he admits. “That will serve me well. But my purpose cannot be a selfish one. This man has lost his child.”

Suddenly, The Cryptkeeper appears once more.

This startles both men.

“Fable, as you will choose to be known; hear me now, your tale is one for the ages, yet comes at great cost,” he cryptically teases. “One of your lives.”

He smiles as Aesop and Banzan look at each other.

Then he’s gone.



Madmen dealing in war, death, and fables must now face judgment!

It’s chaos from the get-go in this trios match, where tags aren’t necessary. Bodies are strewn as Mez and The Judge face off. Patient 10034 rears back for a colossal HEAD CHECK, but the helmeted headbutt bounces off of Order’s metal horns, reverberating throughout The Slaughterhouse! Mez stumbles back and receives THE VERDICT, a Sparta kick which sends him packing!

Aesop appears behind Judge and traps him in the dragon sleeper, concluding AESOP’S FABLE with the DDT! ONE… TWO… Bocamo breaks it up! The Blood King pays back the dragon sleeper with a guillotine choke, aptly named THE SUFFERING! Aesop is slowly fading into unconsciousness— BUT DARKNESS FALLS! The Red Death curb-stomps Obasi, saving the match for his team.

The Crimson Scourge turns round, catching a roundhouse kick from Ebadi just in time. Javad, however, shows him AROUND THE WORLD with the enzuigiri! The Historian springboards off the ropes and goes ARCHIVAL on his ass with the corkscrew forearm smash! ONE… TWO… THR—MEZ IS BACK, AND HE LIFTS JAVAD OFF OF DEATH WITH ONE HAND!

All-out war erupts as all six men make a final stand. Mez administers THE SEDATIVE spinning back elbow! Ebadi shows The Madman THE EIGHTH WONDER octopus stretch! Aesop breaks it up and delivers THE GIFT of a crucifix powerbomb! The Judge one-ups him with the RESTORATION powerbomb! The Red Death makes a RETURN TO ARKHAM with the double-underhook DDT! Obasi makes a splash with GREETINGS FROM AFRICA – but he hits the corner sternum-first! The Red Death grabs a bulldog and vaults off the turnbuckle – THE KILLING JOKE! ONE… TWO… THREE!

What an hellacious match! The Red Death seals the victory for himself, Mez, and Aesop.


A small cup of tea steams on a table, as Mark Gouldern studies a tablet. It seems to be giving him a readout of BEG’s fighting style. Across from the Herald is a mirror.

Behind him, in the mirror, stands Edward Newton.

“Did you find what you were looking for in Miami, Mr. Gouldern?” The Riddler queries. “I’m sorry you had to venture into that dreadful place. I didn’t enjoy my time there.”

“Our stays were quite different.” Gouldern replies.

“Your cipher was most interesting, Mr. Newton.” He continues. “In and of itself, it posed quite the riddle.”

The Riddler allows a slight grin.

“Your confidence indicates you believe yourself to have solved it.” Newton replies.

Gouldern merely nods.

“I solved two riddles, actually.”

Newton’s eyebrow raises behind his mask.

“The first was the one I set out to solve to begin with, the being why our esteemed Butcher decided to have us fight in a House of Mirrors.” The Herald says, standing up to face Newton. “The second, of course, was finding out exactly what you’d accomplished during your time in lockup.”

“And?” The Riddler asks.

Gouldern looks back to the mirror.

“You have quite the intellect, Mr. Newton, but you lack my vision. Your time there was spent yearning for that which you did not have. You wrote your cipher to only be able to be read if using a mirror, something you did without actually having access to one. Impressive, but easily solved.”

“And that’s why Colin has decided to make us enter the House of Mirrors?” Newton leads.

“You wear a mask now, refusing to look at the man underneath. You’ve put all that you have into taking back what you’ve lost, but first the Butcher wishes to have you face the man you once were.”

Newton’s eyes flash behind his purple domino mask, but he says nothing.

“And I will never allow you to execute your plan. Your vision is lacking, I’m afraid.”

The Riddler nods.

“You’ve cracked the code, Mr. Gouldern. I suppose all we have left to do is fight?”

Gouldern nods in return, and Newton turns on his heel.

“I’ll see you in the House of Mirrors. I hope your vision is as good as you believe it is.”

The Riddler walks away, leaving Gouldern to sit and sip his tea.

Who the hell won this exchange tonight?


In a grandiose fine dining restaurant, Marvolo II is patiently waiting for his second favorite person in the world. He sees a slim silhouette walking through the room, Marvolo gets excited as he sees the flowing black dress coming his way.

“Come here my sweet Ra-Junkrat? What is the meaning of this? Marvolo is here to enjoy a date night with Raquel!”

“I know sweetie. Why do you think I got all dressed up? I need to show I am more than number two, more than a piece of shit, I can be a lady for a perfect gentleman like yourself.”

Junkrat is laying it on thick but Marvolo blushes, always appreciating any compliment thrown his way.

“I’m just a lady needing a big strong man in her life, well a lady with extra parts.”

Junkrat shrugs and laughs.

“Where is Raquel, Junkie?”

“She’s all tied up at the moment.”

Marvolo stands enraged.

“Junkie, where is she?”

“You can call her if you like.”

Marvolo pulls out his phone and calls.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hey, I thought it was weird this email coming from you on our normal date night but I’m liking this beginner bondage class. I never knew you were so kinky.”

“Heh… yes, Marvolo loves the kinks. I’ll see you at home.”

Marvolo hangs up the phone relieved.

“You’ve got jokes, Junkie.”

“Well, obviously I can’t beat her at looks so I’ve got to show my sense of humor. Now where we? Do we get the steak or the lobster? Do we get an appetizer? Do we get a nice dessert for after or do we go straight home and bang!?”

Marvolo rolls his eyes knowing he might as well make the most of this dinner.

“Let’s take it slow, we’ll start with the steak.”

The server comes and takes their order. Junkrat is giddy, it’s not a bang but he’s counting it as a date.

”Bang later?”

“Maybe, for now, let’s just enjoy our steak, nice pick going rare by the way.”

“I do like it raw.”

Marvolo chuckles and thinks maybe he can enjoy Junkrat’s company.



Can Coach strikeout Pickpocket, or will the master-thief take the home plate!?

Pickpocket keeps out of arm’s reach of McCarthy, who has nearly 150 pounds on him. He ducks and weaves around the slugger with lightning-fast strikes, chipping away at him. A running dropkick sends the heavyweight reeling. The Prince of Paupers hits the ropes again – only to be flattened with a falling powerslam!

Sparky stands on Pickpocket’s ankle. He snatches him up by the hair and hurls him into the corner, where he pancakes him with a big splash! Coach winds it up as Pickpocket staggers forwards – HIT BY PITCH! The trademark overhand punch floors the street urchin. ONE… TWO… Shoulder up! The gentleman’s thief is showing real grit here tonight.

McCarthy stalks him. MOONSHOT German suplex – but Pickpocket LANDS ON HIS FEET! He rolls Coach up. ONE… TWO… Shoulder up! Pickpocket damn-near stole the victory. An incensed Sparky lobs the Lil’ Scoundrel into the ropes and doubles over for a back body drop – but Pickpocket gets CARRIED AWAY with a sitout facebuster! ONE… TWO… THREE!? NO! So close!

Fagin’s favourite pupil waits for Coach to get up, but he ain’t movin’. Pickpocket moves in, only for McCarthy to sit upright and grab him by the throat! Sparky gives the crowd an ominous thumbs up, before turning it down… but Pickpocket strikes first with the SNATCH & GRAB knee to the head! Coach is out like a light. ONE… TWO… THREE!

Coach’s gameplan didn’t account for loss prevention tonight!


Sigil stands among ash and charred remains.

Half his citadel still stands, relatively unscathed.

The rest is a smoldering ruin.

Sigil has worked tirelessly to save and salvage what he could and stop the flames.

With every step, his fury for the man named X has grown.

He stands among the destruction and considers what has been lost. Irreplaceable relics. Sacred treasures. Objects of impossible wonder.

Then, for an instant, the cloud of sorrow clears. He sees a path forward.

Or, rather, backward.

The pocket watch ticking away in his satchel. The Time Crystal.

He gets it out, holds it in front of him. Reflections of dying flames flicker on its surface…

And then everything disappears. At once, the world becomes an endless black void.


A voice booms from above.

“It seems you stand at a crossroads,” it says.

Suddenly, Flavo appears in front of Sigil.

“With that, you could change it all,” Flavo says. “Rewind the clock. Retrieve your relics from their doom. It’d be so easy.”

Sigil is silent.

“Do you feel it, Sigil?” Flavo asks. “The power you hold in your hand? The burning desire to wield it?”

Sigil says nothing.

“With that artefact,” Flavo says, “you could erase the one they call X from history. Leave no trace of him or his arm behind. Ultimate revenge. You can taste it, can’t you?”

Sigil still holds the pocket watch in front of him.

His hands shake with fury, but he looks down.

Finally, he says:


Flavo glares at him.

“My rage overwhelms me, but I’m no fool. I haven’t forgotten what you said. Time is a fickle beast,” Sigil says. “To change history could be… catastrophic.”

“Then you’ve learned another lesson, passed another test,” Flavo says. “Anger is a master of temptation. It will call to you, overtake you, beg you to do the most foolish things. Even at your lowest, darkest moments, you must be mindful of it. Resist anger’s temptation. Your emotions can betray you if left unchecked. Remember that.”

Sigil nods.

“Until next time.”

Flavo clicks his fingers.

Instantly, Sigil is returned to his realm.

He places the pocket watch back in his satchel.

He looks up at the smoking ruin of his citadel.

There is only one thing on his mind.




Flash Forward.

The Week of The Eliminator.

The sky, blackened by clouds, our ears assaulted by the sounds of wicked winds, and, even beyond that, the sounds of sniveling, whining, and worrying.

I speak, of course, of Pickpocket standing at the front of the ship as he looks into the distance, a large island in his sights, thunder and lightning raging around it and causing the poor thief to jump with each crack of the wind.

“N-no! BJ can’t be there! He hates storms! And wind! And most things from nature! He’s an indoor monkey! Well, a street monkey… But still!”

“Oh shut yer blabberin’. LAND HO!”

The ever callous Captain Scrimshaw brings his ship towards the island, almost crashing into the shore, the large stone vessel careening into the sandy shores, Pickpocket tossed overboard by the momentum and send flying into the sand, his legs sticking in the air as his top half is buried beneath the shore. Scrimshaw leaps from the boat onto the coast and plucks Pickpocket from the ground without a second thought.

“By god, boy. Learn to hold on if yer gonna sit at the front.”

“Sorry! I didn’t think you’d, you know, crash.”

“Ain’t a crash. Is a tactical beaching.”

Pickpocket wipes the sand from himself, the sound of thunder causing him to jump into Scrimshaw’s arms! The captain, however, drops him back to the ground and shake his head.

“Stop with the jumpin’! I told ya, if yer gonna whine and moan you can stay on the boat.”

Pickpocket hangs his head as he stands back up, hands in his pockets.

“Sorry captain.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, follow me, I know where that damned bird took yer monkey.”

Pickpocket looks to Scrimshaw, his eyes saying what but his mouth, wisely, saying nothing. The Salty Sea dog points upwards towards a mountain in the center of the island, a temple sitting on top of it.

“Up there, boy. You see, this here is called Thunder Island. A bit on the nose, but we weren’t pirates because of our creativity. Sittin’ up there is where the chest was before we snatched it. It’ll be where they took yer monkey. I just hope they fed the damn thing.”

Scrimshaw, upon saying that, cringes as he looks back to the wide-eyed Pickpocket who obviously never gave this idea any thought.

“Oh for fuck’s-”


The street thief took off in with impressive speed, rushing towards the mountain. Scrimshaw merely watched him run, lighting his pipe before giving chase.”

“No. Stop. Come back. Fuckin’ idiot.”

The last thing we see is Pickpocket failing to leap over a fallen log, landing face first before bear crawling towards the mountain in unrelenting fashion.


An odd couple in Junkrat and Marvolo II square off against the Imperium pairing of Alton Whitlock and X!

X and Junkrat start things off, much to Junkrat’s delight as he immediately targets X’s arm in the hopes of giving it to Marvolo! X denies this opportunity, throwing Junkrat down to the canvas with ease before swinging away at him! Junkrat yelps with every punch, but manages to escape!

Tag to Marvolo as the marvel from Molvania lunges at X, who responds with a hard body slam that brings Marvolo down with a thud, continuing the attack with lefts and rights before tagging in Alton, who takes advantage of the situation with a flurry of offense on El Macho!

SUPLEX TO THE FACE! Marvolo catches the politician by surprise, unloading on Whitlock with his famed offense before getting a tag to Junkrat, who looks to impress Marvolo with some hard-hitting offense of his own! CONCUSSION MINE! Whitlock is down hard after that tilt-a-whirl DDT, and X comes charging in!

X with a big clothesline on Junkrat, which prompts Marvolo to run in…only to be met with another clothesline by X! The two men brawl, which sends them both out of the ring as Junkrat gets to his feet, climbing the turnbuckle…RIP-TIRE! Whitlock’s out of it after that 450 Splash as Junkrat gets the cover! ONE! TWO! THREE!

Imperium falls tonight to the combined efforts of Junkrat and Marvolo II!


In the middle of an abandoned warehouse, The Red Death and SeeSaw stand, having chosen to meet once again.

SeeSaw looks pissed, as does Death.

As you can imagine, their plan didn’t quite work out, did it?

“You told me I’d have a new friend,” SeeSaw angrily complains. “You lied to me! You’re a liar!”

“I didn’t lie to you,” Death interrupts. “I gave you all the information you needed and you fucked it up.”

The language coming from Bill Kirby is surprising.

“You let Edward Newton, Luke Storm, BEG and Banzan into your home, where you ought to have been hiding. What kind of idiot does that?”

“I like new friends,” he retorts. “The more the merrier!”

The Red Death angrily storms off, waving his arms away in frustration. SeeSaw grimaces.

“You don’t want me as an enemy, Billy-boy,” SeeSaw yells. “But you’re gonna have me as one! You just wait until The Eliminator – I have a special present for you!”

Death scoffs as he slams the door behind him, exiting into the street.

As he does, he finds BEG stood before him.

A lot worse for wear.

Stitched and bandaged up, he thrusts his cane into the throat of The Red Death, driving him backwards into the wall.

“We ought to have a little talk,” he groans, his voice strained. “You told me where to find Luke Storm, you told me where to find the girl. What you didn’t tell me is that when I arrived, I was walking into a trap.”

“An unknown variable,” Death whines.

“I’ll show you an unknown variable. Look at my beautiful face. Look at it. Because of you, I look like death itself. You came to me and offered to be the turncoat in this war between Imperium and Enigma. I know you have your reasons, but give me just one why I shouldn’t turn you over to Newton?”

“Because the only way you win this war is with me,” Death announces proudly. “Think about it, smarty-pants. If two of your four don’t win, you draw. You’re in the Main Event with me and we represent our factions. If you want to ensure you not only take back your title from that bastard Luke Storm but win the war, you need me.”

Green thinks about it, lowering his weapon.




A nice showcase match between two of Enigma’s most talented ranks! It’s the Shepherd of Souls, Helstrom, versus the Planeswalker, Sigil!

The bell rings, and Sigil immediately moves in on Helstrom, throwing kicks and punches, elbows and headbutts, each one connecting, each one staggering Helstrom further back until he finds himself in the corner! But Helstrom GRABS Sigil by the throat! He lifts and throws Sigil across the ring!

Sigil skids into the opposite corner! He reaches his feet just in time to eat a BIG SPLASH from Helstrom! Helstrom whips Sigil into the opppsite corner! ANOTHER BIG SPLASH! One more time! Helstrom whips Sigil into the corner! ANOTHER FUCKING BIG SPLASH– NO! SIGIL COSMIC LEAPS! HELSTROM COLLIDES INTO THE TURNBUCKLES!

He stumbles backwards out of the corner and right into the waiting arms of Sigil! RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX! Sigil is feeling it now! He lies in wait as Helstrom climbs to his feet! HE’S GOING TO END IT RIGHT FUCKING NOW! PLANESWALKER! NOOOO!!! HELSTROM SIDESTEPS IN AND SIGIL LANDS ON HIS BACK!

Helstrom DROPS a massive leg across Sigil’s chest! He stands up and brings Sigil to his feet. Irish whip! Sigil bounces off the ropes! HE DUCKS HELSTROM’S YINGLONG’S FLAME ATTEMPT!!! Sigil bounces off the other side of the ropes! SIGIL CHARGES HELSTROM!!! THE PLANESWALKER CONNECTS!!! HELSTROM COVERS!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THREEEEEEEE!!!

In a showcase of two of the best that Enigma has to offer, it is Sigil that gets its arm raised in victory! A nice feather in the proverbial cap!


Marvolo II’s home, Raquel is tied up and ready to have some fun with number one.

“Honey, Marvolo is home!”

Raquel is delighted but a second voice enters the halls.

“Boom! Junkrat is too!”

The two seem to have had a great night getting to know each other but Raquel is not happy, it was supposed to be their night. She screams so Marvolo can hear her.

“Marvolo, bedroom now!”

“I know I’m number two buddy but I think you’re about to feel like shit, hopefully, number one is only pissed off. I know what it’s like to get pissed on.”

“Thanks, Junkie.”

Marvolo walks up the stairs ready to face the consequences but not before Junkrat in the most earnest of ways chimes in.


Marvolo rolls his eyes and walks into the bedroom and his eyes are like saucers seeing Raquel completely ready for him.

“Maybe Marvolo isn’t in trouble after all!”

Marvolo II puffs his chest and mounts on top of Raquel. She shakes her head.

“No, you’re in trouble and we’re certainly not doing this with him here.”

“Come on Raquel, you know how much he likes explosions.”

“Well, maybe you can go make fireworks with him then because we’re certainly not making any.”

Raquel turns her head away from Marvolo II who simply sighs.

“Please don’t be like that Raquel. Junkrat and Marvolo are just friends.”

“A friend you’ll blow me off for.”

“Marvolo was waiting for you at our restaurant.”

“Then why is he here and why did I get an email about beginner rope-tying from you?”

“Marvolo didn’t send an email…”

“Then who is”

“Not Marvolo, Marvolo’s email is, Number one without the extra stuff was already taken.”

“You need to talk to your friend. He’s hurting our relationship.”

“You’re right, Marvolo will talk to him tomorrow.”

“No, now, this is serious, it’s me or him.”

“Okay… you know you’re number one right?”

“Prove it.”

Marvolo sighs and goes to the living room.

“Junkie, Raquel doesn’t like our friendship.”

“No bang for us?”

“Marvolo isn’t even getting to bang Raquel tonight, Junkie. You need to go home, she doesn’t want us to be friends anymore.”

“Can number two at least have a match? She gets to have you her whole life, I only need a few minutes.”

“Sure, Junkie, you can touch Marvolo in that ring.”

“Yes! I still get to be close to you. Maybe you can tie me up.”

Junkrat winks and Marvolo II shakes his head.

“Bye, number two.”

“Bye, number one.”

Junkrat hugs Marvolo and sadly walks away.



Hours before The Eliminator…

Helstrom, with the hellfire hues of his armor faded, lays on an alter, unconscious.

Lording over him?

Alton Whitlock.

And to his left?

A Japanese woman in business attire whom we have not yet met.

They stand in a small, bamboo building.

The alter sits in the center of an otherwise empty room, lit only by paper lanterns.

“You’ve done it,” she says. “I can’t believe it, but you’ve done it.”

“It wasn’t hard,” Whitlock says. “It talks a tough game, but it trusts too easily.”

She nods. “You understand what happens now?”

Whitlock nods. He reaches into his coat and withdraws a knife.

It appears to be the average knife.

But on the blade, glowing with all of Helstrom’s fire, is a script which no one can read.

The woman looks at Whitlock.

“Are we square?”

Whitlock looks at her and smiles. “Ambassador, we are more than square. You may leave.”

She starts to speak, but something in Whitlock’s smile seems more like a snarl. So she closes her mouth, turns, and exits the room.

Alton grins, “You know, Helstrom. I told you I’d get that armor.”

He lifts the knife over his head.

“But even I’m surprised that I’m removing it posthumously.”

What the fuck?

Is Helstrom DEAD!?


BEG faces off against Gouldern in a friendly contest but a week before the war begins, will this battle be a costly one for Imperium?

The bell sounds as BEG rushes forward, diving for the ankle of Gouldern but getting a boot to the face for his troubles. A flurry of lefts and heavy rights pepper BEG before he’s planted face first into the mat with a stiff bulldog. BEG staggers to his feet into a kick to the gut before his head is roughly thrust under Gouldern’s arm.

PLANNED OBSOLESCENCE! The Elevated DDT hits flush as Gouldern covers. ONE…TWO…BEG gets the shoulder up but as he kicks out, he swings an arm up, dragging Gouldern down into a STF out of nowhere! Gouldern quickly scrambles, getting to the bottom rope as BEG is forced to break the hold.

Both men get to their feet as a big uppercut stuns Gouldern before a Snap Suplex sends him crashing to the mat. Gouldern manages to roll to his feet, bouncing off the ropes as he rockets forward, RUTHLESS INSPIRAT…BEG manages to dodge the Dropkick, leaping up as Gouldern turns around.

PYRAMID SCHEME! The Triangle Choke is locked in tight as BEG pulls back, Gouldern looking like he’s about to tap out before the TeleGauntlet whirs to life. With one hand, Gouldern powers BEG up off the mat, POWERBOMB! BEG looks out of it as he stumbles to his feet, THE DISRUPTION! Gouldern collapses onto the unconcious BEG as the referee counts, ONE…TWO…THREE!!!

Gouldern picks up the victory over BEG , proving his technology superior to BEG’s submission skills here tonight.


Javad Ebadi sits upon a folding steel chair in quiet contemplation. As he does, he feels the unmistakable feeling of eyes on the back of his head. He is being watched.

He unfurls his legs from their crossed position and swivels his body around in his seat. Quickly, he is up to his feet, as he sees the person that has been watching him.


Fists raised, ready to defend himself, Javad asks The Judge, “What is it you want?”

The Judge raises a hand, signifying a lack of aggression.

“Javad Ebadi. I have watched you for aeons. Time has passed us both by at great speed. Yet, without any effects of time ravaging our bodies.”

Javad clenches his jaw.

“I have been keeping track on you since the rise of Persia. Through its good times and its bad. I have watched as you punish your men, and I have watched as you tend to them. You have left me with quite the quandary…”

“Who ARE you?” Javad asks.

“I am The Judge. And your time has come, Javad Ebadi, to sit before me and receive your own FINAL judgement.”

Javad steps forward, he has no fear for the man before him.

“I sit for no man.”

Whoomph! A portal opens beneath Javad’s feet.

Whoomph! A portal opens above the steel chair.

Javad falls through the two portals, landing on his steel chair. Seated.

The portals close.

“Then, Javad Ebadi, it is fortunate for me that I am not a man.”

Javad’s eyes grow wide. He looks around trying to grasp what has just happened.

“Next week, you shall receive your judgement. But for now, I have some thinking to do…”

A portal opens and shuts and once more Javad Ebadi is left sitting in his chair, alone.


It is a rare moment of late that we find Aesop alone, and the Mountain not at his side. But with all attention on the ring where Luke Storm and SeeSaw are about to do battle, Aesop sits alone. It is at this moment that he is greeted somewhat by a rampaging Mez, who bursts into the room.

HE AIMS A SKULL CRACKER AT AESOP’S HEAD BUT AESOP DUCKS. The pair struggle and squabble for afew moments before a third figure enters the fray. The Warden. He enters with a large needle, the type he uses to subdue Mez for transport back to the Asylum.

Only, he does not stab it into Mez’s neck, but Aesops.

Aesop falls silent and still. Catatonic.

“Tut, tut, tut. Aesop. How I hate to see you like this. But perhaps a taste of how lucky you are to be free will help you decide. If you will not join me willingly, I’ll make sure you do by force.”

He waves a hand and a host of orderlies swarm Aesop, placing him on a Dolley-Trolley much like Mez’s. With his target acquired, Mez’s job is done, and the warden soon follows the same process with him. Soon, both Aesop and Mez are in the same subdued state and being wheeled toward the transport van bound for the Asylum together.

“We’ll see how another little stay in the asylum changes your mind. Away from the influence of that Banzan.”

With that, he follows the orderlies, a spring in his step.



A feud turned bloody personal, Luke Storm went through hell to save his daughter last week, now all that’s left is to make the man who kidnapped her suffer. But can he or will he be forced to once again play Seesaw’s twisted games?

The bell barely gets to sound before Luke Storm is on Seesaw, pounding the living crap out of him with heavy lefts and rights, each blow punctuated by laughter from the insane Mr Make Believe which just spurs Storm on more. A devastating headbutt busts Seesaw open, a thin line of blood trickling down the white makeup before Storm lifts Seesaw up onto his feet


The snap of the Superkick echoes throughout the arena but Storm doesn’t even let the referee get out a one count before lifting Seesaw up off the mat and getting a massive headbutt to the jaw for his troubles. Storm staggers back dazed


Seesaw just speared both himself and Storm right out of the damn ring, Storm getting the brunt of the move as the back of his head slams down on the unforgiving concrete. But you wouldn’t know it from seeing him as he quickly gets to his feet, rushing Seesaw in a rage once more before grabbing the back of his head and throwing him temple first into the nearby ring post.

Seesaw’s skull bounces off the steel with a thunk, leaving a bloodied print behind before Storm picks him up, slamming his head over and over into the steel as he leaves Seesaw a bloodied mess, barely able to stand as Storm backs up, venom in his eyes before rushing forward.


Seesaw just rolls away as a visible crack is heard through the arena, Storm may have broken something from the force of that move and judging by the grin on Seesaw, his opponent knows it too. Storm tries to hobble away, barely able to stand on his injured leg but Seesaw is on him, tossing him on the back of his neck onto the concrete with a vicious Half Nelson Suplex. Storm is dazed as he staggers up, Seesaw whirling around an invisible lasso behind his head.

WOODY’S ROUNDUP! Storm is slammed head first into the same steel post he bathed in Seesaw’s blood before getting rolled back into the ring. Storm is dazed on the mat but not flat out as Seesaw lifts him up, punishing him with a series of hard knees to the gut before lifting him up high, trying for a Powerbomb.

Storm is fighting though, pounding down on the open wound of Seesaw’s with heavy lefts and rights, forcing Seesaw to drop Storm before Storm winds up with his good leg and hoofs Saw right into the clowns!

Seesaw drops to his knees in pain as Storm rushes to the ropes, hopping for a moment as he tries to fight through the pain before he bounces off, delivering a stiff running single leg dropkick to the face of Seesaw. Storm winces in agony before leaping up and clipping Seesaw in the back of the head with an enziguri before backing up, clenching his fists from his throbbing knee


Storm didn’t get all of it though as he had to go goofy foot to hit this one but Seesaw is down, can he be out? The referee begins to count





FIV…Seesaw is up as he throws something at Storm, a small doll that he used effectively last week. Storm doesn’t recognise Magic Molly with Misting Action for a moment, not realising his mistake before

BLACK MIST TO THE EYES! Storm is blind as he staggers around for a moment,

LOW SUPERFINE TURBINE BLAST! Seesaw gores Storm right to the injured knee as Storm is screaming in pain, his knee has to be completely done at this point.

Seesaw pounces on the hurt Storm, beating him down with hard strikes before spinning him onto his back


Storm screams in pain as Seesaw uses his considerable strength to try and break more of Storm’s limbs, but Storm refuses to give into unconciousness, despite the pain shooting through every muscle in his body. He tries to fight out but he’s just not strong enough as Seesaw delivers a sickening headbutt to the back of Storm’s head, before hoisting him up onto his shoulders with ease.

DELIVERING A MASSIVE TEETER-TOTTER! The Reverse DDT absolutely drives Storm into the mat with force and that may be all she wrote for the world champion here as the referee counts.










But not for long as Seesaw drops him to the mat with another low Gore. Storm screaming in pain as Seesaw rolls out of the ring, grabbing something out of his magic toybox.


Seesaw’s grin is a mile wide as he rolls into the ring, setting up the table in the middle of the ring before pulling Storm up to his feet. Seesaw knocks him for a loop with a stiff right hand before laying him onto the table in the midst of the wire. A series of hard rights leave Storm dazed on the table as Seesaw slowly walks over to the corner and begins to climb up to the top rope.

Seesaw has his back to the ring, steadying himself slowly on the top rope before he’s met by a huge right hand from Luke Storm who somehow has scrambled up onto the apron and is staring Seesaw face to face!

Storm climbs up to the top rope with Seesaw, both men beginning to exchange rights and lefts before Seesaw grabs Storm’s head and delivers a sickening headbutt. He grips Storm by the head, screaming in his face.

“Why won’t you just play the game with us Luke”

Storm slips out, delivering a hard low blow with his right hand.

“Fuck Your Games!”


The Codebreaker sends Seesaw crashing off the top rope, down onto the table which doesn’t break upon impact but does when

THUNDER HITS! Storm Moonsaults off, sending both him and Seesaw right through the table. Carnage is everywhere as both men look to be a mutilated mess in the broken wire and table fragments. The referee counting both men out.







SEVEN…Both men are stirring.

Eight…Storm is up to one knee but as he tries to stand, his other gives out as he collapses to the canvas.

NINE…Seesaw pulls himself up by the ropes as he subtly kicks out Storm’s bad knee, dropping him to the canvas once more.


Seesaw wins this hellacious Last Man Standing beating the world champion but can he do it on a grander scale in one week’s time and survive the Eliminator?


SeeSaw, having picked up an incredible victory over Luke Storm, salivates at the idea of having his way with the World Champion.

He inches closer, but here comes Banzan!

The Mountain slides into the ring and begins nailing SeeSaw with chops, sending him backwards into the ropes. He whips him across the ring and chops him to the throat, dropping Mr. Make Believe to the canvas.

Banzan goes to help Luke Storm up but here comes The Red Death with a steel chair!

Death slides into the ring, lamping The Mountain across the skull with the steel.

A shot to the back of Luke Storm is next and Death is making a statement.

Suddenly, Berkshire Ellison Green appears, slamming his cane into the throat of Death. He sands there for a moment, victorious, reaching down to grab the World Championship.

The lights go off.

When they come back on, The Cryptkeeper is stood there in all his terrifying glory.

Green runs at him, being clocked with a MASSIVE BIG BOOT!

As the former Champion gets back to his feet, he’s met with a EUROPEAN UPPERCUT!


The Keeper stands tall as the rest of The Eliminator lay unconscious in the middle of the ring. He’s been on the cusp all month, watching, playing his role, but could it be his time?

Will their stories come to an end?

Has his just begun?

The show goes off the air with The Cryptkeeper stood tall.