The Boiler Room.

The Butcher lays dead on the floor, blood pooling around his prone body. It’s been less than five minutes since the fatal blow and the perpetrator is long gone.

By the time Flavo arrives, he’s missed everything.

He rushes to The Butchers side, apoplectic.

“No,” he yells. “This can’t be.”

He immediately puts his fingers to the throat of his once friend; drawing them back with a fierce passion.

“He’s alive.”


Present Day.

Reality has long resumed and we’re in the middle of New York Mercy hospital. The Butcher is led unconscious in a bed, surrounded by tubes and wires.

Flavo is understandably no-where to be seen.

But stood at the foot of his bed, with a Doctor, is none other than Edward Newton.

“What’s the prognosis?” The Riddler questions, touching his chin.

“He’s in a coma,” The Doctor responds, checking through the chart. “He’s had major surgery this week but he’s not out of the woods. He lost a lot of blood and wasn’t breathing for quite some time. We’re going to keep him in intensive care.”

“Will he wake up?” Newton questions, looking back at him.

“The prognosis for the wound is good, but we won’t know the extent of his injuries until he awakes from his coma. His brain was deprived of oxygen for a couple of minutes and that’s his biggest hurdle right now.”

Newton nods at the Doctor, shaking his hand with a thank you.

The Riddler turns, placing a hand upon the foot of The Butcher.

“Sweet Dreams, Colin.”




Inside the mind of The Butcher, we appear inside The Tap Room – a special building long ago destroyed. He’s sat at a desk opposite The Chief, smoking a cigar.

“This is a special night,” Chief says with a pearly white smile. “The meeting of two houses, like Game of Thrones.”

The Butcher smiles back.

“What do we have on the docket?” He asks. “Did you book that Main Event. I’ve wanted nothing more than to see Brent Kersh and Mike Lane do battle.”

The Chief stands up, grabbing a bottle of whiskey.

“What do you think?” He asks, pouring some into glasses. “Not only that but The Scarecrow versus Tommy Hawk, The Family vs. Bellatorum and Rain taking on Berengar. It’ll be fucking epic.”

The Chief raises a glass, watching as The Butcher does the same.

“To Old School Wrestling,” they say in unison.

Then they swig.

The Butcher sighs deeply.

“Two hundred events, spanning over a thousand matches across six years. What an accomplishment, eh?” Colin says with pride. “And tonight, we celebrate with some of the greatest matches with some of the greatest wrestlers in the world. Could it be any better?”

“Of course not,” The Chief says with another big smile. “It’s like a dream come true.”

They clink their glasses.



The issues between some of these competitors is already starting to boil over, as Dice and Kazaku shift from opponents to allies teaming with Malice to take on the unique trio of Ethan Rose, Fear, and Hex!

Kazaku and Hex start things out with a flurry of offense, each looking for the advantage over the other when Kazaku manages to catch the Songstress off guard with a drop toe hold! Before the Okami Princess can do any more damage, Hex gets the tag to an excited Rose!

The Phoenix charges at Kazaku, only to be met with a Rolling Savate Kick that sends him down hard! Malice shouts at the Yakuza Juvenile for a tag, but Dice gets tagged instead as he charges at Rose with a big running knee to the skull, causing even further damage!

Dice picks Rose up, sending him crashing into dangerous territory with Malice and Kazaku standing by. Dice preps himself for a roll when Malice slaps him on the back, the dice dropping down as Malice charges in after Fear who gets a tag in from Rose! THE STAR OF AZATHOTH!

Fear literally can’t see what’s coming as Malice drops him with a high impact spear! GORE! As the others pile in attacking each other, Fear manages to shake the curse off to go for Face Your Fear–REVERSAL! MALICIOUS INTENT! Malice with huge impact as he gets the cover! ONE! TWO! THREE!

Malice with a shady tactic that gets the job done for him and his team tonight!


Meanwhile, in reality…

A single spark ignites, somewhere dark and filthy.

Then there’s a giggle.

Heavy breathing.

Something like a moan.

Then, for an instant, Junkrat’s face is illuminated by an electric glow.

Then he flips a comically large switch next to him. It’s labeled SHINIES.

When he does, the lights come on, and his latest project is revealed.

Unsurprisingly, it’s an enormous, ramshackle bomb. Loose wires crackle with dirty power.

Above both the bomb and Junkrat, a small, faint blue dot hangs in the air, pulsing lightly. Junkrat is completely oblivious to it.

Suddenly, the Judge’s deep, commanding voice booms out from the pale dot.

“For what purpose do you build this tool of destruction?” he asks. “What ends do you seek?”

Junkrat doesn’t appear to hear.

“Eeny, meenie, miney, moe…” he says. He connects two large red cables.

The resulting shock knocks him flat on his ass. He giggles.

“You dare ignore my inquiries!?” The Judge booms.

Junkrat is, once again, too busy to notice. He connects two other big wires to a bank of rusty batteries, attaches one of them to the bomb…

And licks the other one?

“WHAT MADNESS IS THIS!?” The Judge asks.

Junkrat, meanwhile, is practically lifted off the floor by the electrical force. His entire body convulses wickedly before he falls to the ground.

“Oh…,” he moans, “fuck yeah.”

Then, with a self-satisified grin, he leaps back up to his feet.

“It’s more fun when you don’t know what you’re gonna get!” Junkrat says through hysterical laughter.

He picks up a large silver lighter, flicks the flame on, and uses the light to haphazardly rifle through a large container of C4.

“A being of pure chaos? Anarchy, embodied?” The Judge voice says, quieter now. There’s something like exasperation in his voice. “A threat to the universe’s fragile harmony. You must be watched, Junkrat. And perhaps, in time, you shall be judged.”

Junkrat, however, is holding up a particularly unstable looking brick of explosives and talking to it like a baby. The lighter’s flame is millimetres away.

“Dwid ywou hwear sumpin’ w-w-weird, Mr. Boomy Boomy?” he asks the incendiary device.

With a sigh, the blue dot disappears. Junkrat does not notice.


Will #1 repel The Bat’s Shadow with his dazzling aura, or will the darkness snuff out the flame!?

Graves prays to his deity before the bell. He catches Marvolo mocking his ritual, and #1 gulps nervously. A massive big boot takes his inflated head off, and he flops onto the mat face-first! He crawls into his corner – only to eat a cannonball! Michael—keen chiropractor that he is—knots Marvolo up with a torture rack!

Raquel tosses a black plastic bat into the ring to distract Graves, who sets his Chiroptera on her! The cloaked disciples stalk the mute latina – but Marvolo comes to her rescue, throwing them into the steel stairs and barricade! Michael manifests and pulls him into an STO into the ring skirt! He dumps his limp body into the ring.

He spikes him with a brainbuster! ONE… TWO… Raquel puts Marvolo’s foot on the ropes! The referee doesn’t see it, but Graves twigs it. He advances on Raquel, but Marvolo spins him round and leathers him with machine gun chops… which only seem to piss him off! The Prophet charges at Marvolo – who instinctively applies the TOUCH OF DEATH! The Tongan death grip, however, also does nothing!

Marvolo shrugs. He goes for the deadly FIVE POINT PALM EXPLODING HEART TECHNIQUE, but Graves plants him with an impaler DDT which leaves him in a headstand! Marvolo falls over… only to roll into a ball and extend his hand through his legs. Graves frowns and grabs it – LADY OF THE LAKE ROLL-UP! ONE… TWO… THREE!

Marvolo steals the win and hightails it as Barbatos seethes in the Black Realm!


Meanwhile, in reality.


In a convent, hidden away in the mountains, a religious gathering spend their lives in peaceful harmony.

One such member of the gathering sits on a pew in a hand crafted church, praying.

“Don’t you realize that God’s don’t exist?” Sigil says, appearing at the back of the church.

The man looks surprised, turning to meet him with a startled expression.

“That was true of a time, certainly,” he replies. “But things have changed, brother.”

Sigil steps forward and takes a seat next to him.

“What is your name?” The man asks.

“My name is Sigil and I have come to request your service to my cause,” he announces.

The man reels back in surprise. He stutters and stammers, unable to speak for a moment. When he finally gets his wits about him, he lowers his head.

“There is a prophecy, one that stated you would come. I didn’t in a million years believe it would be I who you come for. My father built this place, hopeful that Yahweh would return; he didn’t.”

That confuses the Collector, who tilts his head.

“I never knew your father, kid,” he admits honestly. “But if the prophecy states that I would come, does it state what your answer would be?”

The man stands up.

“I will follow you,” he commits. “I must. It has been written and therefore, it shall come to pass.”

Sigil stands up to meet him.

“Can you fight?” He questions.



Captain Zappa and Nightstick, both OSW legends in their own right, stand ready to square off in this dream theatre!

The bell rings, and Nightstick and Zappa circle each other a bit before locking up in the center of the ring. Five-O quickly transitions the Unorthodox Identity into a side headlock! Zappa counters by backing up into the ropes and bouncing off, using his momentum to shove Nightstick away!

MOONSAULT DROPKICK right into the officer’s back! Zappa reaches his feet only to be met with a BIG TIME LARIAT from Nightstick, sending Zappa hurtling backwards over the top ropes. Nightstick follows him out of the ring! He lifts Zappa up! ODE TO BOSSMAN! THE SPINNING SIDE SLAM!

It’s all Nightstick now as he lifts Zappa back up to his feet and rolls him back into the ring! Nightstick quickly pursues, but as he stands to his feet, ENZIGUIRI FROM ZAPPA! Captain Zappa quickly reaches his feet, Irish Whip– NOO!! HICCUP IN THE MATRIX! THE INVERTED DDT! NIGHTSTICK IS OUT COLD!!!

Captain Zappa stands up to his feet! The crowd, roaring with approval! He sends a few boots into Nightstick’s midsection! With a quickness he runs to the nearest corner! He climbs to the top rope! HE LEAPS!!! ZETAVARIUM!!! IT CONNECTS!!! HE MAKES THE COVER!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THREEEEEEEE!!!

Captain Zappa picks up the big time victory over the always-tough Nightstick!!!


Walking backstage is none other than Gabriel Drake, the Rewind Championship draped over his shoulder.

With each stride, he almost seems to float down the hallway. Unequaled grace and violence all at once.

Well, almost.

He freezes in his tracks as the unmistakable feeling of a gun barrel presses against his temple.

“Stop right there, mother fucker. I have questions.”

Major Thom.

A sneer from Drake reveals a sharp canine tooth. His eyes show no fear.

“Go ahead with your questions, then, Major. But first, might I request you remove that useless pistol from my cranium. You’ll find I’m much more candid when I’m not being threatened.”

Major Thom only presses the gun harder against Drake’s temple, drawing a smile from the monstrous monster hunter.

“I dreamed of days I worked very hard to forget, days beneath that hot middle eastern sun. You were there.”

“Was I?”

“Yeah, and you were tearing everyone to shreds.”

Drake laughs through the smirk on his face.

“Interesting. Tell me, Major. Are you aware of my occupation?”

“Should I be?” Asks Major Thom.

“I hunt monsters, Major. I must admit, I find it interesting you dreamed of me committing atrocities on the battlefield. Sometimes, we simply cannot handle the blood we spill. Isn’t that right, Major?”

“What the hell are you on about?”

Drake turns his eyes towards Major Thom.

“Perhaps that monster in your dream that looked like me was someone else entirely.”

“What do you mean?”

But Gabriel only winks.

And just like that, he disappears, leaving Thom’s gun pointed at nothing in particular.



It’s a classic battle of man versus machine, as The Automaton takes on Cael Gable!

Gable charges at the Automaton, who easily dodges before connecting with some hard punches that send the Olympian reeling to the corner. Showing his tenacity, Gable shakes this off best he can before going after TAM again, who responds with a knee to the skull! V TRIGGER! DOWN GOES GABLE!

TAM lifts Gable up, not letting up as he continues the attack with some more lefts and rights before taking a swing with a lariat…but Gable ducks, sending TAM down to the canvas with a drop toe hold instead! Gable tries his best to work the arm of a machine…

…but TAM is not having any of it, quickly getting back up to his feet before sending Gable down with a cradle DDT! Picking Gable back up now, TAM rests the Olympian on his shoulders as he spins around! UFO! Gable’s dizzy coming back down, but he’s not out yet!

TAM hits some hard knees and elbows, but Gable manages to stop the end of the Automated Joint Test, reversing it into a German suplex…and another…AND ANOTHER…10 KARAT! GABLE’S HIT ALL TEN OF THEM! Second wind for Gable as he lifts TAM up–PUGHPLEX! CUTTER AND THE COVER! ONE! TWO! THREE!

Cael Gable has raged against the machine tonight, picking up the win over The Automaton!



SeeSaw is backstage, a collection of his toys surrounding him which he is inspecting. He is busy looking over a classic collection of tin toy soldiers.

“Now troops. It’s been a while since you’ve been out of the toybox hasn’t it?”

He listens, as if the silent toys are replying to him.

“No, no, no. It’s nothing like that, I’ve just been busy with some new projects that’s all. Let’s just say that there were some… design flaws.”

Again, silence as he listens to a reply that is clearly only in his own head. In that silence, another presence enters the room. Marvolo II stumbles across the scene, and his eyes instantly light up.

“Does Marvolo’s eyes deceive him?”

The voice is enough to spur SeeSaw out of his conversation with the soldiers. He spins around to see Marvolo looking past him with a twinkle in his eyes. SeeSaw steps in front of him, as if guarding his collection, but it is too late. Marvolo has seen enough to tickle his pickle.

“Marvolo has not seen the likes of that in years. Marvolo has fond memories of toys exactly like these, back in Molvanîa…”

He reaches past SeeSaw and picks up a classic robot toy, which promptly falls to pieces in his hands. The head, spring-loaded, fires itself across the room and hits SeeSaw in the cheek.

SeeSaw lets out a noise that sounds something like the air being squeezed out of a balloon.

“What did you do?!”

His eyes flare and he turns to face Marvolo, who is still holding the pieces of the robot in his hands. Marvolo simply shrugs.

“Clearly, this one was not made in Molvanîa.”

He tosses the pieces into a nearby trashcan and makes a hasty exit, while the reality continues to sink in for SeeSaw.

“You… BROKE… IT!” SeeSaw’s voice comes through gritted teeth. “YOU BROKE IT! YOU BROKE IT! YOU BROKE IT!”

He turns, temper at a fever pitch, but Marvolo II is nowhere to be found. SeeSaw lets out a guttural cry. One thing is for sure… Marvolo is going to have hell to pay!



The Emotion swallowed Johnathan up in its jaws long ago, but there’s always a bigger fish…

Having teamed together and fought each other countless times before, Doubt and The Sharkman sweep across the canvas in a violent dance. The Scarlet Redemptor takes control with blazing-fast, dizzying offence. Dropkicks, hurricanranas, and a headscissors driver into the turnbuckle all offer The Sharkman a MOMENT OF CLARITY! ONE… TWO… The Finned Avenger kicks out!

Fighting back, The Sharkman grounds the aerialist over Suplex City. Smelling blood, he goes for the kill – trapping the highflyer in the SHARKMAN SPECIAL! Doubt is in over its head, but will it sink or swim!? The Sharkman rags his prey a little too fervently – pulling its GLOVE off! Doubt seizes his chance and escapes to ringside with a limp.

Its reprieve is short-lived, however, as The Sharkman torpedoes through the ropes with a TORNADO DDT! Both competitors stay down while a 10-count is initiated. The Sharkman is up by 5, but Doubt runs him into the steel ringpost and beats the count itself. The Sharkman just barely rolls in at NINE!

Doubt wants a little HEART TO HEART – but its injured leg gives out! Spanish fly swatted, The Sharkman serves up a SUSHI KICK shining wizard! He points to the skies and climbs the ropes… SHARK DIVE! The Free Willy moment ends with a splat as he nails the senton bomb! ONE… TWO… THREE!

The Sharkman prevails over his long-running friend and foe!


Meanwhile in Reality…

At the Enigma Headquarters, The Red Death is sat in a corner of his room with both of his hands on his head.

Something happened to him last week.

He felt a change.

When he finally looks up at the door way, he notices that Sigil is stood before him.

“Bill, we need to talk,” he says, entering the room and closing the door behind him.

“Leave me alone!” He replies, lowering his head.

“I understand that you’re confused. Last week, I saw the look in your eyes when The Sharkman removed your mask; something happened.”

“I want to know who killed my fucking family,” he growls. “When my mask came off, I started to feel differently. I started to doubt that Luke Storm was ever the man. Now, sitting here, I feel like I should be convinced that he is. What’s happening to me?”

Sigil takes a seat opposite him on the bed.

“I can show you the truth,” he beckons. “You just need to follow me.”

Death looks up at him, and immediately flies into a rage. He grabs Sigil by the throat, but The Collector zaps away, appearing behind him.

He turns with a big swing of the elbow, but Sigil grabs him around the waist and BACK DROPS HIM STRAIGHT ONTO THE CHEST OF DRAWERS BEHIND THEM!

The sound of broken wood echoes throughout the house as both men lay in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Sigil is the first back to his feet, albeit slowly.

“If you want to fight, we’ll fight at Grave Consequences – but when I win and I will, you will follow me.”

He dusts himself off and stumbles out of the room, leaving Death to groan in agony on the floor.



Mother meets Calypso tonight. Both women are hard hitting and take no prisoners. What will be left standing when the brawling Calypso meets the Strong Style of Mother?

Calypso charges at Mother, aiming a Running Knee lift that Mother dodges by bending over backwards, Matrix Style. Turning as Calypso catches her balance, Mother hits a ROUNDHOUSE KICK that sends Calypso into the corner. SHINING WIZARD TO CALYPSO! The Prophet crumples to the ground and Mother follows with a Fist Drop to the Sternum.

Mother springs to her feet, looking for a second Fist Drop but Calypso catches her fist and twists it around into an awkward Wrist Lock. With the wrist locked in, Calypso HEADBUTTS MOTHER REPEATEDLY, driving her backwards into the ropes. Mother is left dazed, hanging on the ring ropes!

Calypso only breaks the Wrist Lock to charge across the ring and bound off the ropes. She runs in, aiming a CLOTHESLINE at Mother, but Mother ducks under and FLIPS CALYPSO TO THE OUTSIDE! Stepping onto the ring apron, Mother aims a DIVING KICK at Calypso, but Calypso DROPKICKS HER IN THE AIR!

Mother is down at ringside, Calypso rolling her back into the ring. The Messiah slides in with a Steel Chair! Mother is struggling to her feet. SKULL FUCKED! CHAIR SHOT TO THE TOP OF THE HEAD! Mother drops like a sack of potatoes! Calypso tosses the chair aside and covers for the pin on the unconscious Mother. One! Two! Three!

Calypso wins tonight, thanks to a well timed chair shot that nearly took Mother’s head off. The meek shall inherit the earth tonight!


Meanwhile, in reality…

Warden Johnson leans back in a leather office chair.

His attention is focused on the window in front of him–bulletproof, impenetrable glass–and what’s happening behind it: Mez, gone absolutely berserk, laying waste to the other inmates in teams of five.

The warden grins uncontrollably.

As one group of helpless souls approaches the madman, Mez rears his head back and screams. Then he is upon them.

He grabs a sobbing woman by the throat and hurls her against the warden’s window. She hits it with a sickening thump and slides to the ground.

Johnson stands up and applauds.

But then there’s a blinding bright flash of flame within the window.

And the being called Helstrom appears.

The inmates that can still move crawl away from it in horror. Helstrom motions its hand and a red aura surrounds the only entrance to the chamber, sealing it tight.

Mez shows no fear. He stands tall against King Enma’s Will.

“You do the bidding of a despicable soul,” Helstrom says. “Are you merely an empty vessel?”

Outside the chamber, Warden Johnson is screaming, but neither Mez nor Helstrom notice.

“Empty?” Mez asks, his strange voice muffled through the mask.

Helstrom begins to pace around the room.

“A void within,” it says. “You seem to have lost your soul.”

Mez is frozen, unmoving.

“But where has it gone?” Helstrom asks.

Mez doesn’t move. He’s still breathing heavy, like his anger is growing. He points at the irate Johnson through the glass.

“Did he take it?” Helstrom asks. “Or had you lost it before? Has it been destroyed? Imprisoned? Lost to the wind?”

A moment passes.

“Do you know?”

But Mez has heard enough questions. He charges at Helstrom with the intensity of a confused, frightened animal.

Helstrom gracefully sidesteps the assault, sending Mez crashing into a wall.

“There may be a way to reveal what’s happened to you,” Helstrom says. Mez looks barely conscious. “It must be known. King Enma and the other kings of the underworld demand it.”

“Leave me alone,” Mez manages to mutter.

“That is a path that cannot be walked,” Helstrom says. There’s pity in its voice. “Preparations must be made. When the time comes, be ready.”

Helstrom disappears in a puff of smoke as Warden Johnson comes rushing into the room.



It’s a Family reunion tonight, as Jensen & DTR battle Bellatorum!

DTR and Solomon start things off. Solomon floors DTR with dropkicks and crossbodies. DTR vacates the ring and slaps the apron in frustration. Jensen jumps down to calm his partner – only for Solomon to flatten them both with a plancha! The Grand Master rolls DTR back into the ring, but DTR strikes with a neckbreaker!

Throwing Solomon into the corner, DTR distracts the referee while Jensen works him over. Solomon stumbles forwards right into the BRAINBUSSTAAAA! He doesn’t cover, instead tagging in Vengeance himself. Jensen further isolates Solomon with punishing blows and crippling suplexes. He inflicts some BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA with the leaping superkick – but Solomon evades it and gets the hot tag to Lux—

Springboard forearm to Jensen! DTR tries to cut him off, but the Light Warrior takes both men down with arm drags, headscissors, and hurricanranas! The ARM OF GOD reaches out to Jensen! Will he tap to the Fujiwara!? DTR BREAKS IT UP! He kneels over Lux and pummels him—DARK WISH! Solomon out of nowhere with the superkick, saving his partner!

This match is getting biblical! HAIR-TRIGGER & REASONABLE DOUBT – stereo jawbreaker and stunner! Jensen looks to finish Solomon with the INFINITE CHAOS – but the CHAOS THEORY trumps it! DTR goes for a quick cover on Lux. ONE… TWO… Solomon pulls him off! LAZARUS CHAMBER! DTR fights the Tongan death grip, but he fades away into unconsciousness! He’s out!

Bellatorum shine bright tonight as they stand over The Family!



…at the CRYPT.

The Cryptkeeper sits, as he often does, peering over his precious Crypt. A smile forms on his face.

“Have you finally come to discuss your tale?” He offers, a sinister tone in his voice as he turns to face two intruders.

Aesop. Banzan.


The two men look at one another, and then back at Cryptkeeper.


The Cryptkeeper stands before a surprised Aesop and Banzan, after they have just assisted Luke Storm against BEG’s henchmen.

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


Startled for a moment, understanding comes to the face of Banzan.

“You have many gifts, don’t you?” The Mountain offers.

“But is your gift of foresight,” Aesop chimes in. “Or more of a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

The Keeper stands up from his desk to face the two large men. He regards them with little more than curiosity.

“No wise words, Aesop?” He retorts. “No morality tales of the folly of prophecy? Do you really only have accusations to levy at me?”

Banzan steps in front of Keeper, his tone dark.

“You’ve threatened our lives.” He says.

“Only one life.” Cryptkeeper interjects. “For two wise, learned men, I wonder why you are so focused on the end of your tale. After all, the tale is truly in the telling, isn’t it?”

The Keeper sits back down, undisturbed by his intruders.

“Leave, now.” He commands. “If you desire more information on your fates, come alone to the places where you learned who you truly were.”

Before Fable can respond, they find themselves carried up and out of the Keeper’s domain by some invisible force.

Meanwhile, Cryptkeeper draws out his pen, and begins to write in the Crypt.



Death himself is set to take on the Knight of the Void tonight in the dream theatre!

The bell sounds, and Rain immediately charges across the ring! But Berengar catches him right in the jaw with a big elbow, taking him down. Berengar stomps Rain a few times as the Ghostwalker works his way to his feet! SLAP! GOD DAMN! Rain backhands the piss out of Berengar, turning him around!

BULLDOG by Rain! He tries to lock in a crossface, but Berengar scurries out from beneath him! Both men reach their feet! Kick to the gut by Berengar! DDT by the Void Knight! He rolls Rain over and hooks the leg! ONE! TWO! THR– NO!! KICKOUT by Rain! Close, but no cigar!

Berengar drives his elbow once more into Rain’s jaw, stands and brings Rain to his feet. He whips Rain into the ropes! HE POPS RAIN INTO THE AIR! VANQUISHER! NO!!! DROPKICK BY RAIN INSTEAD!!! Berengar stumbles backwards into the ropes! Rain charges right towards him! BACK BODY DROP OVER THE TOP ROPE!!!

But Rain lands on the apron! Berengar turns around! OOF! He hangs Berengar’s neck over the top rope! Berengar lands on his back, grabbing his throat! Meanwhile, Rain springboards! Leg drop across the neck! Rain beckons Berengar to his feet! ACID RAIN!!! BERENGAR IS BLINDED!!! BROTHER MINE FOLLOWS!!! RAIN HOOKS THE LEG!!! ONE!!! TWO!!! THREEEEEE!!!

Rain shows Berengar that death cannot be escaped in this big time win!


Meanwhile, in reality.

A pair of hands open a crisp white envelope, revealing a letter within that’s read in the narration of an old female voice.

My Dearest Son,

After everything that happened, after you rebelled like you did, I had no choice but to let you go.

Your father and I were long finished. He left me when he found out I couldn’t give him anymore sons. He vanished.

He left you too.

I know that what you did was my fault. I know that I’m the one responsible for all of it. I took that burden a long time ago when I pleaded guilty.

That’s why I’m here. Maximum Security.

Because I knew that what happened, what you did, was because of me.

I’ve shouldered that blame for the entirety of the last twenty years. I sit looking at these four walls, at these bars, and I know that I did the right thing. For all the abuse and torment you suffered at our hands, it was my recompense.

I don’t feel ashamed about that. I have no regrets. I took the blame because it was the right thing to do.

But watching you now, seeing what you’ve become and why; it makes my blood boil. I’m so proud of you, I really am. It’s just… so much of who you are and why you’ve come to be is down to us, your parents.

We’re responsible.

I need you to know that you can be different. You can be saved. You are a good man, deep down within, I know it. I know that knowing the truth about who you are and why will change everything.

I love you, son.



Two of OSW’s greatest world champions go head to head here tonight as the Spirit Walker goes into battle against the Hayman

The bell rings as both men rush in, exchanging heavy rights and lefts before a stiff elbow to the jaw rocks Scarecrow. The Hayman counters in kind with a hard headbutt, before a massive Big Boot takes Hawk off his feet. He quickly stumbles to his feet into a hard knee to the gut before he’s slammed roughly down to the mat with a massive Bodyslam. Hawk stumbles up, holding his back in pain right into a hand across his throat as Scarecrow lifts him up high, BYE BYE…SPIKE DDT!

Hawk reverses the Chokeslam just in time as Scarecrow now is the one stumbling up to his feet as he walks into the ropes just as he’s flung down to the floor below with a massive clothesline. Hawk doesn’t waste time, rushing across the ring as Crow easily gets to his feet right as Hawk dives through the middle ropes. GOING NATIVE WITH A PAIR OF FISTS TO THE SKULL! That dazes Crow as he’s grabbed by the back of the neck and thrown back into the ring.

A running knee to the skull rocks Crow as he rises to one knee before he’s lifted up high and slammed down onto the mat with the RED ARROW! Hawk quickly hooks the leg for the cover, ONE…TWO…IT’S BROKEN UP BY A HUGE HAND ON THE THROAT AS SCARECROW SITS UP! Hawk is fighting the hold but he’s not able to counter it this time before he’s lifted up high and driven nearly into the mat with the BYE BYE BIRDIE!

The Hayman doesn’t go for the cover, knowing he needs more to put down the Spirit Walker as he calls for a second Chokeslam. Hawk fights out of the second one however, stunning Crow with a stiff headbutt before a snap DDT drops him to the mat. Hawk rolls back, pulling the tomahawk from his back as he rushes forward…right into a massive HAYMAKER! Hawk is out on his feet as he’s grabbed around the throat by both hands, FULL FORCE BYE BYE BIRDIE! Scarecrow holds on for the cover, ONE..TWO…THREE!

The Hayman does it here tonight, fighting through a tremendous battle against Tommy Hawk but just like when he held that OSW World title high, he was just too much for the Spirit Walker.


Meanwhile in Reality,

Backstage, Malice is pacing around looking for The Plague Rat, he runs into Dice and Kazaku instead.

“Have you seen him!?”



“No I haven’t seen him anywhere, have you Dice?”

“No, but maybe they have.”

Dice pulls out a dice bag with the number 4 stitched into it, he pulls out one D4.

“This is a directional dice, it helps me find exactly where I need to go, it has all 4 directions on it, roll for yourself Malice.”

“Fine, but don’t think I’m playing Dungeons and Dragons with you anytime soon.”

“So be it.”

Malice rolls and the dice lands on N.

“Go North, you will find what you seek.”

Malice rolls his eyes and marches North.


The Plague Rat blasts him with brass knuckle shot to the back of the head!

“Looking for me? You found me and you’re going to regret every second of that search.”

He starts stomping on the back of Malice’s head! Malice is almost unconscious but The Plague Rat isn’t done! He pulls out the broken stick from last week! He jams the jagged edge into Malice’s spine! Malice is screaming in agony!

“Hah! You think you’ve been in wars man. Afghanistan is nothing compared to me.”

He twists that stick deeper and deeper into Malice’s back!


Dice and Kazaku each swing a chair to a side of The Plague Rat’s head. Con-chair-to!

The Plague Rat falls to the ground. Dice and Kazaku help Malice up.

“Why did you two do that?”

“You saved us last week, it’s the least we could do.”

“Well, I appreciate it but what are we going to do about him?”

Malice gestures to The Plague Rat. Dice speaks up.

“Leave it to me. I’ll take care of him.”

He rolls a D20 on The Plague Rat’s chest. It lands on a 1.

“Ooh, crit fail, he’ll be wishing I rolled anything different by the end of this week.”



A war that runs deep for a kingdom both believe they truly own, can the slayer of gods regain control of the underworld or will the Mad King once again wear the thorned crown?

The bell sounds as Ordell rushes in, taking Lee by surprise with a stiff running kick to the jaw before leaping up with a hard enziguri to the back of the head that puts Crowley down on one knee. Lee looks stunned as Ordell leaps up, drilling him into the mat with a leaping DDT before springboarding off the ropes with a Senton Bomb. Ordell quickly hooks the legs, looking for the early victory.

ONE…TW…CROWLEY GETS THE SHOULDER UP! Ordell quickly pulls Lee up to his feet, pulling him into a headlock, INCEP…Crowley spins out, CHELSEA GRIN TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD! Ordell may be out on his feet as Lee spins him around before lifting him up into the air and spiking him into the mat with a stiff Brainbuster! Ordell looks out as Lee looks to add a little high risk as he quickly climbs up to the top rope, diving off legs first

TRAUMA..SELF INFLICTED as Ordell moves out of the leg drop! Crowley gets up to his feet holding his back as Ordell leaps up, trying for a Sunset Flip but Lee holds onto Ordells legs, flipping him back around into the STEPFORD SMILE! Crowley holds on for the cover, ONE…TWO…THR…ORDELL JUST KICKS OUT!

Crowley pulls Ordell up by the hair as he looks for the end but gets a sharp headbutt for his troubles before a leaping knee leaves Crowley out on his feet. Ordell pulls him into a Powerbomb, lifting him up high but Crowley rakes the eyes, dropping down behind as he grips Terminus’s mouth with fish hooks before delivering a huge Backstabber. Crowley rolls through, the fish-hooks still applied as he locks in a modified Crossface, THE GLASGOW LAUGHTER! Ordell tries to fight but he’s in the middle of the ring as he’s forced to tap out!

The Mad King does it, outsmarting Ordell once more as he proves why he’s the true ruler of the Underworld


Meanwhile, in reality…

The sound of a car engine roars through the night and we find ourselves inside of an 80s pickup truck, the rusted vehicle flies down the road, Scrimshaw sitting behind the wheel. Water pelts the road as he puffs from his pipe. He looks to his passenger, Pickpocket, and shakes his head.

“We’re in deep waters, Pocket. Imperium ain’t gonna be off our trail anytime soon and with that USB in our hands… they ain’t gonna back off until they got what they want.”

Pickpocket looks at the USB in his hand, his once cheery demeanor being completely absent from his face as he scratches BJ’s head behind his ears.

“I should have just let them have the USB, huh? We’d give up the score and they would have probably been happy to just scare us off.”

Pickpocket puffs his pipe again and grunts.

“Don’t think so, Pocket. They wanted one of us dead, we’re witnesses to some information they don’t want others to know they have. You taking that drive was brave, boy. I ain’t no hero, kid. Neither are you. But now, we have to be.”

Pickpocket nods his head as they speed down the road. And then, behind them, headlights appear in the rear view mirror. Scrimshaw tightens his grip on the wheel and lays down on the pedal.

“Hold on, Pocket. I knew they’d be on us, The Chase has begun, and for once in my life, I ain’t the predator huntin’ down prey. We’re on the choppin’ block.”

Pickpocket nods his head as they speed off, the car, a black SUV, chases them down the road. Scrimshaw takes a quick turn down a back road, roaring through muddy ground as the SUV struggles to keep up to the four wheel drive.

Shots fire from the SUV, but thankfully, as far as we can see, nothing lands, and the truck disappears into the night, safe for one more day.


Somewhere else, in a dark, damp and cold room.

Major Thom and Malice wait.

They’re patient, as if they’ve been told that this is what they must do.

So, when the door opens and in walks the figure of man, they stand to attention.

“At ease,” the figure says, closing the door behind him. “I’m not The General. My name is Bishop and I’ve been deployed to join this unit.”

Malice is the first to offer a handshake, followed by Major Thom.

“The General has asked me to bring us together so that he can deliver his orders.”

Bishop walks over to a table across from them, picking up a remote control. He turns on a monitor that reveals a darkened figure, purposefully blacked out of view.

Their voice is also distorted.

“Soldiers, welcome to your new Unit; The War Machine. I have assembled you because you are the finest in your fields, from Office of Strategic Services to the Marine Corps, you’re the finest warriors on the planet.”

All three men stand at attention, as if they’re strictly in obedience.

“You have been employed and will subsequently be compensated greatly for the mission you are about to undertake,” the voice continues. “There will be causalities. You will be asked to do things that test your moral compass.”

They look at each other.

“But rest assured, it is for the greater good of not only the United States of America, but the world at large.”

There’s a brief pause.

“Next week, an impact statement must be made.”

Documents suddenly flash up on screen, littering them with various pieces of information.

“All these documents have been compiled in folders for you at the barracks,” he continues. “You will be safe there. It’s time The War Machine begun.”



Two of the greatest that ever laced a pair of boots in OSW step into that ring against eachother one more time. Will the Shadow endure once more or will he finally falter to the Enforcer?

The bell sounds as both men circle the ring, not taking their eyes of one another for a single moment before Kersh stops, extending a hand out in respect to Mike Lane. Lane looks at it for a moment, silently considering the token of sportsmanship before brushing it away and slapping Kersh square in the face. The Enforcer keeps his face turned for a moment, a scowl growing on his face before he rocks Lane with a massive right hand.

The Shadow staggers back as The Enforcer explodes with a flurry of lefts and rights before nearly taking his damn head off with a massive Clothesline. Lane stumbles up into the corner right into a running knee from Kersh who pummels the stunned Shadow into the corner with another flurry of blows before backing and driving Lane into the steel with a brutal running facewash that could’ve damn near broken Lane’s jaw.

The Shadow crawls out of the corner, rolling out of the ring to get away from the Enforcer’s wrath as Kersh gets onto the apron, sizing the Shadow up as he rests on the barricade before diving off.


Mike Lane was playing possum as he turns a double axe handle into a Superkick in the blink of an eye and the Enforcer may be out cold just like that. Lane pulls his limp body up, rolling Kersh into the ring before hooking the leg for the cover








Brent Kersh is just barely stirring on the mat as he gets a stiff kick to the side of the head by Mike Lane who pulls him to his feet before hooking him into a muay thai like clutch and begins to deliver knee after knee to the unprotected skull of the Enforcer. A final one slightly busts open Kersh as he staggers back


The T-Bone drops Kersh on his goddamn head as the blood begins to flow a little more now, the Enforcer slowing down as he can barely get to one knee before he sees Lane rushing forward, not able to roll away

FROM THE FAST LANE! The rolling knee hits its mark as Lane once again goes for the cover






Mike Lane gets up, slight frustration showing on his face but he shakes it away as he patiently waits for the Enforcer to get to his feet before rushing forward again





Mike Lane sits up, beside him with how Kersh refuses to quit before shaking his head as he gets to his feet before rolling out of the ring and grabbing a steel chair from underneath the ring. The Shadow rolls back in, chair held up high as he teases slamming it down onto Kersh for a moment before simply opening it up and sitting down as he stares at the Enforcer who’s struggling to get to his feet.

“Don’t make me do this Brent, just stay down before I hurt you”

Kersh sits up with a wild right that Lane easily dodges, along with another before a stiff slap takes the fight out of the Enforcer before Lane piefaces him back down onto the mat and gets up to his feet. Shaking his head, The Shadow waits for Kersh to get up to his knees once more before rushing forward.


Mike Lane staggers up dazed as Kersh grabs him from behind, dumping him on the back of his head with a Backdrop Suplex, The Shadow’s knee slamming down onto the fallen chair as he begins to scream in pain.

The Enforcer smells the blood in the water, pouncing on the wounded knee with strikes and knees before wrapping the knee up and snapping back as pain shoots throughout the injured wheel. The Enforcer gets to his feet, wiping the blood from his eyes before quickly trying to lock in the Lonestar but as he spins around, Lane just gets his other foot up and manages to kick Kersh off him. The Shadow hobbles to his feet into a hard right hand


Kersh peels Lane up off the mat, not even bothering for the pinfall before he grabs Lane by the injured knee, rushing forward before throwing him knee first right into the turnbuckles. The Shadow yells out in pain, dropping down to the mat as The Enforcer gets out onto the apron, pulling Lane through the ropes as he locks in a Figure Four Leglock AROUND THE RINGPOSTS!

The Shadow is screaming in pain as The Enforcer pulls back with all his might, he can’t win this way as the referee begins to count him down but a four count is all Kersh needed as once he breaks the hold, the damage has allready been done. Lane’s right knee is basically broken at this point as the Enforcer rolls back into the ring, locking in the LONESTAR!

Mike Lane has to be damn near crippled at this point but the Shadow does nothing if not endure as he refuses to give in. Lane begins crawling to the ropes, pulling the entirety of the Enforcer’s body weight across the ring until his fingertips just scrape the bottom rope but Kersh scurries back, pulling Lane back into the middle of the ring as the Shadow collapses back, both shoulders down onto the mat as the referee counts.





LANE GETS THE SHOULDERS UP AS ADRENALINE FILLS THE SHADOW KING! Mike Lane roars out as he begins to reverse the pressure and turn the hold around with the Enforcer resisting him at every turn but eventually Lane turns over the Lonestar as Kersh is forced to break the hold but the damage has been done as Mike Lane can barely move let alone stand. Brent Kersh looks to finally end this as he pulls Lane up into the air as he lifts him up onto his shoulder.






THRE…THE ENFORCER NEARLY LOST TO HIS OWN MOVE! Kersh is pissed as he gets to his feet, rushing forward as Lane limps up before taking his damn head off with a massive LARIAT! BUT LANE IS UP IMMEDIATELY! FIGHTING SPIRIT SHADOW KICK!

Kersh drops to the canvas but Lane immediately collapses as well, both of these legends are down as neither man wants to lose here tonight. Slowly Mike Lane rises to his feet, hobbling on one knee as Brent Kersh rises, slumped down on his knees, staring Mike Lane dead in the eyes as he slowly motions for him to bring…it…on.

A gesture that The Shadow King obliges




Brent Kersh does it, winning this tremendous contest between two OSW legends as tonight, the Enforcer was the one who endured.



There’re crowds moving up and down Ocean Blvd. Beautiful people walking. Beautiful people watching. MUSIC BLENDS from nightclub to nightclub. A POLICE RADIO, holstered to the hip of a street cop, crackles.

“Report of an officer down. Be advised, all units. Corner of Lennox and Taylor.”

Slipping by the street cop: Intro LUKE STORM and EDWRD NEWTON. They shimmy through the hotel doors.

There, the buffed DESK MANAGER gets off the phone to greet the effeminate pair.

“Good evening. I’m Mike,” Luke Storm says with a look of confusion on his face.

“And I’m Marcus,” continues an equally as awkward Edward Newton.

“We’re lookin’ for a couple of our Latin friends who checked in a little while ago. You might remember them?” Storm continues.

Suddenly, Newton steps back.

“What the hell is going on?” He questions. “Where the hell are we?”

Luke shrugs.

“It seems familiar, doesn’t it?”

Newton puts his hand on his pistol, slipped inside his waistband. He’s never been dressed quite like this before in his life.

He draws it, pointing it at Storm.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but it ends now,” Edward growls. “I didn’t want it to end it like this, but if you push me. The last thing I remember was being in the hospital and now I’m here. I don’t know what you did to me but…”

“Relax,” Luke says, hands raised. “I’m in the same boat you are. The last thing I remember, I was getting into bed and then I wake up here, dressed like Will Smith.”

Suddenly, it clicks.

“Wait a damn minute, I know where the fuck we are.”

“Where?” Edward pleads.

“Bad Boys. We’re on the set of Bad Boys.”

The Riddler looks around, even more confused.

“None of this is a set, Luke. This is real.”

“Look,” Storm says convincingly. “This is my world. I know this movie. I’m Mike Lowry and you’re Marcus Burnett.”

“That explains very little,” Edward replies, aiming his gun at the desk clerk instead. “So, what happens if I do this.”


Blood and brain matter explode from the back of the desk clerks head as men, women and children start running in a panic.

Edward drops the gun in shock.

Storm can’t believe it.

“What did you do?” He yells, rushing to check on the clerk. “What the fuck did you do?”

To be continued.