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

“The sun will never rise again, never to fill the hearts of men. This dark light fills my eyes and slowly, all hope dies. This old home is my prison, I wish I could only listen. Nothing drowns out my awful cries as the dead begin to rise.”

[Static.] [In the middle of a dark and dreary night, a light dust kicks up from the gravel road with a soft wind passing by. Stood in the middle of a crossroads, holding a metal box within his grasp, is none other than Solomon Rhodes.] [He flips open the box and checks the contents. Inside is his drivers licence, a strand of hair and some odd looking items, bones and charms, mostly. He bends down, places the box into a small hole in the ground and covers it.] [Then he waits.]

“The mighty Solomon Rhodes in the delectable flesh,” [A disturbing voice hisses, belonging to a dark haired female. Rhodes turns around to greet her, her blackened eyes matching the colour of her pitch black hair.] “What brings you to my humble crossing?”

[Rhodes grimaces.]

“I need your help.”

[The demon smiles.]

“Yes, yes you do. You don’t quite seem whole, do you? You’re missing something, aren’t you? Yes, that’s right, you’re missing a slither of your soul. Abaddon did a number on you didn’t he?”

[Solomon almost growls, backing away in shame.]

“And the dead have risen because of it,” [she remarks wanting a response.] “Which is why you’ve summoned me here, is it not? You wish to make another deal, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t,” [he replies, pulling something from within his jacket.] “But I do need a demon.”

[He swings.] [Cut.]


[The stars and galaxies could not hold these two interplanar warriors as they are now here to collide for the last time!] [The bell sounds as these two circle around the ring before they tie-up in the center of the ring. Lyra Starchild gets the better of the exchange with an elbow strike to the side of Bobby Neptune! Neptune staggers away before Starchild leaps from the second rope with a springboard enzuigiri! Neptune falls to his knees as she rolls to her feet with a grin. She hits the ropes and nails a running knee strike, but Neptune rolls out of the way of it. He leaps into the air and nails a dropkick blasting Starchild backwards into the corner! He smirks as he comes down in a super hero landing.] [He whirls around to face Lyra seeing her in the corner. He springs towards her from the second rope and nails a knee to the face! RED GIANT! Lyra falls into the bottom corner of the turnbuckle as Neptune grins. He hits the opposite corner before rushing towards her and hitting a running dropkick right to her face and jaw! She’s motionless as he pulls her out and covers her. One…Two…THRE-FOOT ON THE ROPE! Starchild had the wherewithal to put her foot on the bottom rope! Neptune looks a bit shocked before he moves to the top rope.] [He motions for the end, but Lyra staggers to her feet and bumps the ropes! Neptune falls right onto his moons before making an O face in obvious pain. Lyra climbs to the top rope, hooks an arm, and leaps off for a SUPERPLEX! Both are down for a few second before Lyra quickly begin getting to her feet with evil intentions. Neptune staggers up to his feet and turns right into a roundhouse kick from her! However, Neptune manages to hook onto the foot and drive the knee down into the mat! Lyra cries out in pain before Neptune leaps to the top rope and just leaps off! The twisting Red Arrow hits… the knees of Lyra Starchild! Who hooks the legs of Neptune and rolls him over on top of himself in a pin! One…Two…THREE!] [Lyra Starchild slips out of the ring as she managed to outsmart Neptune here tonight and score herself a victory.]


[In a long-awaited Rematch we see two Prophet’s face off once again!] [The bell rings and Calypso explodes out of the corner and leaps onto Cross! She rains down a hailstorm of punches to the head of Desmond that forces him back into the turnbuckle! She unloads a ferocious headbutt that drops Cross to a knee and still keeps going with a flurry of knees! CROSS POWERS TO HIS FEET! HE THROWS CALYPSO INTO THE TURNBUCKLE WITH A TERRIFYING SPINEBUSTER! The Prophet has the wind knocked out of her and Cross isn’t finished! SWINGING NECKBREAKER TO THE DAZED CALYPSO! THE AWAKENING! The move shakes the ring as Calypso lands prone!] [Cross peels Calypso to her feet and throws her across the ring without a second thought. The Messiah tries to get to her feet but Cross goes for a big boot- TESTICULAR CLAW! CALYPSO CATCHES CROSS RIGHT BY HIS BALLS AND HE PRACTICALLY FLINGS OVER HER! The Fallen yells out in agony as Calypso leaps up with a modified chin breaker to the top of her head before letting go of the family jewels! LEAPING KNEE STRIKE! Cross stumbles back and Calypso flies forward- CLOTHESLINE! CROSS CAUGHT FLUSH WITH HIS OPPONENT’S HEAD AND SENDS HER DOWN TO THE GROUND!] [Cross lands a harsh boot to the spine of Calypso to stop her from rising before grabbing her by the back of the shirt and dragging her to the turnbuckle! He’s placing her face first on the bottom turnbuckle! LEAPING CURBSTOMP- CALYPSO ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY! Cross’ foot bounces off of the turnbuckle and Calypso tries to roll him up! Cross rolls through and forces his way to his feet! He grabs for Calypso- AND GETS DROP TOED ONTO THE SECOND ROPE! Calypso leaps over! ULTRA-VIOLENCE! CURBSTOMP! Cross is gasping for air as Calypso covers! One! Two! Three!] [Calypso has beaten Desmond Cross! The Fallen is still gasping for air as The Messiah stands in triumph!]


[Previously.] [Before Ring King 2018] [In the fiery pits of The Underworld, Lee Crowley sits upon his throne with the broken soul of Jonathan Heartsford at his feet. He kicks at him, almost playfully, with a demonic smile on his evil face.]

“Are you ready to submit yourself unto me, maggot?”

[Heartsford looks up, bleeding from the mouth.]


[Crowley stands abruptly.]

“How long do you wish to be here, tortured and abused at my hand? How long do you wish to be a slave to the King of The Underworld? Look at you, brother, you’re a mess. I’ve beaten you, broken you and tortured you for what must feel like a hundred years. Don’t you want peace? Don’t you want a return to glory?”

[The kid falls flat on his face, breathing heavy.]

“I can return you to the monster you once were. I can make you into my brother once more. Succumb to me, Jonathan and I will remove all Doubt from your mind.”

[He whimpers.]

“I succumb.”

[Crowley snaps his fingers and within moments, Jonathan Heartsford has vanished and Doubt has appeared. Cloaked in red, he stands before his King, his head tilted.]

“How does that feel?” [Lee asks.] “Do you feel empowered?”

[The Emotion only nods.]

“Good, because my soldier is closing in on a way to open a portal to the world that we can step through. I’ll take you with me, my good friend. Together we retake Old School Wrestling and prosper.”

[Crowley smiles.] [Cut.]


[Former allies join forces from the grave once more but they face off against the greatest tag team OSW has ever seen. Can the student and master seal the win or is there defeat a simple gesture away?] [The bell sounds as Crowley and TAM face off first, Lee rushing forward with furious lefts and rights that barely affect the machine before a wicked leaping knee nearly breaks Crowley’s jaw before he’s lifted up with ease and slammed hard into the mat with a viscious Body Slam. Lee slowly staggers up right into a Big Boot that sends him down to one knee as TAM leaps off the ropes, FIRST FLIGHT/LAST FLIGHT! That massive European Uppercut may have knocked Lee out cold as TAM covers, ONE…TWO…Lee just gets the shoulder up!] [TAM waits for Lee to get to his feet before rushing forward but Crowley ducks under a Lariat, SHOCK THERAPY! A low almost Chop Block variant cuts TAM down, slowing the machine enough for Lee to pull him up, driving him down with the ANTIDEPRESSANT! Lee doesn’t cover, instead tagging in Doubt who immedately leaps up, CAUSE OF DOUBT! It hits flush as he covers TAM. ONE…TWO…TAM kicks out. Smiley heads up to the top rope as Doubt lifts up TAM, nailing him with EATING YOURSELF ALIVE as he holds him over his knee, Lee leaping off, SLEEP PARALYSIS! Doubt covers, ONE…TWO…THRE…NOVAN BREAKS THE PINFALL!] [Crowley tosses Novan out of the ring by the back of his head as Doubt waits for TAM to slowly rise to his feet, springboarding off the ropes, PESSIMIST’S…UFO! TAM counters the End out of nowhere t he’s grabbed from behind by Smiley as Doubt sizes him up for a moment. BLACK MIST! TAM’s steel and circuitry begin burning from the acidic properties of the mist as TAM collapses to the mat. Lee pulls TAM up into an Electric Chair as Doubt climbs up to the top rope, leaping off FEVER DREAM! TAM is out cold as Crowley spears Novan through the ropes to the floor below, Doubt covering, ONE…TWO…THREE!!!] [Knock Knock dissect TAM here tonight, not even allowing Novan to tag in as they prove why they’re the best tag team in OSW history]


[A former Hero. A former King. A former Mortal. A former God. Tonight Hades and Ordell settle their differences once and for all!] [The animosity is palpable as Hades locks up with Ordell and throws him face first into the turnbuckle! HE SLAMS ORDELL HEADFIRST INTO THE TURNBUCKLE! ANOTHER! THEN ANOTHER! The Gateway to Greatness is already busted open as the former King of the Underworld grabs him and hits a German Suplex to the center of the ring! He peels the bloodied hero off of the ground and places him upon his shoulder HE RUNS TO THE TURNBUCKLE! WELCOME TO- NO! ORDELL FLINGS AROUND AND KICKS OFF THE ROPES! INCEPTION! HEADLOCK DRIVER! Hades’ circlet flies off of his head as blood pours from his brow!] [Ordell is fighting just as hard now as he did all those months ago as he waits for Hades to get up AND HITS HIM WITH A PUNT KICK THAT NEARLY BREAKS HIS JAW! He hits the ropes and flies off with a moonsault double knee right to Hades’ spine! He forces the fallen God off of the ground and goes for a roundhouse kick- HADES CATCHES IT! He wraps his hands around Ordell’s throat and lifts him in the air! THE RIVER STYX! DOUBLEHANDED CHOKESLAM TO THE TURNBUCKLE! Ordell rebounds and Hades picks him up once more!] [Ordell is limp in Hades’ arms as the God calls for the end! He turns around AND RUNS FULL FORCE TOWARDS THE OPPOSITE TURNBUCKLE! WELCOME TO THE UNDERWORLD! NO! Ordell catches himself on the turnbuckle! SPRINGBOARD ROUNDHOUSE KICK! HADES DOESN’T GO DOWN! The God stumbles and Ordell tries to keep up the pressure with a flurry of blows but Hades counters with a headbutt! BOTH MEN TRADE BLOWS! Punches land from each competitor! KICK TO THE GUT BY ORDELL! He pulls Hades in AND FORCES HIM UP WITH ALL HIS STRENGTH! THE FINAL CONCLUSION! PHEONIX-PLEX! Hades lands neck-first as Ordell bridges! One! Two! Three!] [Ordell has given his all as he finally closes the book on this feud! He’s completely spent, lying breathless in the ring next to Hades.]


[In the remnants of The Cussen Family home, Jensen Cussen sits on a charred and burnt mattress, looking at the rubble of what he once knew. He isn’t sure how or why he’s been resurrected but he knew he must come here.] [And he wasn’t the only one.] [Because when he looked up, what he saw startled him; Don’t Trust Reason.] [DTR.] [The Virus.]

“I knew I’d find you here,” [DTR says, walking through the rubble to where Jensen sits.] “Back where it all began.”

“Back where it ended,” [Cussen interrupts.] “Back where I closed the chapter on this life of ours.”

[DTR smiles.]

“However, here we both are.”

[Cussen stands to meet his adversary. DTR stops in his tracks, trying to talk his way to a resolution.]

“We’re connected, you and I. You can feel it too, can’t you? Ever since the Internet Wrestling Federation, we’ve played a major role in each other’s lives. You’re the ying to my yang and I’m the plus to your minus. We were never supposed to be alone, Jensen. We’re brothers.”

[Vengeance sneers.]

“We’re not brothers,” [he barks.] “We’re not friends, we’re not family and we’re not connected. I killed you in this house, David. I ended our war but the universe saw a way to bring us back for one more fight.”

[The Virus nods.] “Then so be it.”



[When the dead walk the earth tonight, they seek not brains but revenge. Jack met his end as a pawn in the ultimate war now can he make Death suffer for his vivisection or will he be torn to pieces by the Necrospecter?] [The bell sounds as both men rush forward, fists flying with furious lefts and rights as both men despise one another. A stiff headbutt staggers Death back before a huge Boot sends him flying into the corner. Jack rushes forward, CHUCK THE CLOTHESLINE! DISCUS CLOTHESLINE INTO THE CORNER! Death staggers out right into a German. Jack rolls through dragging Death up as he plants him on the back of his head with a Dragon Suplex, Jack rolls through again, trying to wrap Death up in the Straight Jacket but Death begins to fight out, nailing Jack with stiff elbow after elbow to break the hold before dropping down with a neckbreaker that staggers Jack back] [ROLLING ELBOW! That lands square on Jack’s jaw but he’s not out as he’s lifted up high before spiked into the mat with a massive Brainbuster! Death drops down for the cover, ONE…TWO…Jack gets the shoulder up! Death pulls Jack up nailing him with a savage series of elbows and kicks, rushing to the ropes as he springboards off with a moonsault but Jack catches him! Jack spins him around as he lifts him up for a powerbomb, BOOGEYMAN BOMB!] [Death is driven down onto Jack’s knees but Jeckel doesn’t cover, heading up to the top rope before diving off, CAR CRASH! Both feet drilling down not on Death’s chest but his temple but Jack doesn’t cover again, rolling Death onto his stomach as he pulls both of his arms back, ECHO…JACK IN THE BOX! Death looks done but that’s not enough for Jack as he heads up to the top rope, SUPER JACK IN THE BOX! Black looks dead as Jack rolls him over, a satisfied smile on Jeckel’s face as he finally covers, ONE…TWO…THREE!!!] [The Boogeyman gets his revenge against his murderer here tonight, he may not be able to kill Creeping Death but he damn sure made him suffer]

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[Two men and a grave awaiting one of them to be placed back in the ground!] [A gravely bell sounds as that seems to indicate the beginning of this match at the cemetery. Isaac Danvers quickly grabs Cael Gable by the throat and begins to strangle him! However, Gable manages to get himself free before drilling a kick into the midsection of the obsessive, plague doctor! Gable grabs Danvers and hits a quick German suplex onto the soil beneath them. They are only a few feet away from the hole itself as Gable eyes it once he gets back up to his feet. While he’s looking at the hole, Danvers rises back to his feet.] [BIG BOOT! Gable slams down to the dirt as Danvers just kicks him square in the ribs. Danvers grabs the arm of Gable and begins dragging him towards the grave. The Plague Doctor seems ready to diagnose Mr. Gable! Gable begins to squirm once they get onto the close enough to the grave, but Danvers just digs his fingers into the temple of Gable and begins squeezing! Gable cries out in agony as Danvers just stands over him. THE LOBOTOMY! After a moment of torture, Danvers releases the hold and drags Gable towards the hole. He slowly lifts up Gable before running a finger along his face.] [Gable nails a headbutt narrowly dodging the beak of the mask! Danvers staggers backwards, on the edge of the hole! Gable lowers his shoulder and rams him! THE GOLD RUSH! Both men fall into the hole! Whoever climbs out of the hole first and buries the other first gets the win. Gable reaches up and begins pulling himself out of the hole, but he’s DRAGGED back in as his nails dig into the dirt as he goes. Danvers grabs the shovel from the top and… CRACK! The steel finds placement on the skull of Gable as he’s busted open. He falls backwards as Danvers crawls out. He picks up some dirt and begins the slow and eventual burial of Cael Gable!] [Isaac Danvers holds the shovel lovingly towards himself as he just shakes his head at the covered grave of Cael Gable.]


[With Cael Gable buried six feet under once more, Isaac Danvers steps away, holding his shovel close; only the sound of rustling disturbs him. He freezes. Reluctantly, he turns his back towards the grave to see the hands of Cael Gable once again ripping through the turf.] [He attempts to slam the shovel down on them, only Cael grabs it, using it to pull himself from within the mud.]

“You can’t finish this,” [Gable says, coughing up mud. He gets back to his feet, startling Danvers.] “Don’t you see? I’m finally free of you.”

[Isaac tilts his head.]

“You can bury me six feet under, time and time again, but I will rise and I will fight you. Your love doesn’t hold me hostage anymore, Danvers. Your hold on me is over.”

[The Doctor doesn’t say anything for a moment, he simply lowers his head.]

“Very well, Mr. Gable, have it your way,” [he says almost sorrowfully.] “But know that I just wanted to love you.”

[Gable shakes his head.]

“I didn’t want your love,” [he retorts.] “And it was foolish of me to think I could kill what’s already dead. I know that now. I couldn’t find peace in that grave, buried under hatred and lust. I couldn’t find peace knowing that you owned my soul.”

[He turns his back on the Plague Doctor.]

“But now I can.”

[Gable slowly begins walking away.]

“Goodbye, Isaac.”

[Danvers lowers his head.]

“Goodbye, my love.”



[It’s anything goes as the two of the most important members of The Family collide tonight!] [The bell sounds and Jensen rushes across the ring for a running knee strike! DTR dodges out of the way before pushing Jensen right into the corner, chest-first. DTR drills two quick strikes to the back before rolling out of the ring. Dave The Rattlesnake reaches underneath the ring and pulls out a trash can. He rolls the trash can into the ring as the contents seem to hold more than trash! DTR reaches into the can, but Jensen is back at it now. CURTAIN’S CLOSED! The springboard sit-down jawbreaker connects as DTR springs back! Jensen reaches into the trash can and smiles.] [He pulls out a bag and grins wickedly before pouring the contents of the bag onto the mat. THUMBTACKS! Cussen grabs DTR and pulls him to his feet. Cussen begins drilling into him with a flurry of kicks to the side of the leg before pulling him into a suplex and bouncing his legs off the top rope and turning back into a brainbuster! GUILT TRIP! The thumbtacks imbed themselves in the head of DTR who is in obvious pain! Cussen flips him over onto the tacks and covers him. ONE…TWO…KICKOUT! Don’t Trust Reason isn’t going down that easy!] [Jensen looks irritated before reaching into the trash can and pulling out a kendo stick. He raises it up as DTR gets to his knees. CRACK! The kendo leaves a welp on the chest of DTR. DTR is grinning! Cussen whacks him again! AND AGAIN! Once more! With each strike, DTR is rising to his feet with his tattered shirt only getting more and more destroyed. Cussen goes for an over the head shot, and it LAYS OUT DTR! Blood is now flowing from the top of his head as Cussen brings another shot STRAIGHT DOWN atop his head as he’s not moving! Cussen covers him! One…TWO…THREE!] [Jensen Cussen stands atop the unmoving body of DTR as lady luck has shone brightly upon him on this night.]


[Hysteria.] [Ozric Mortimer.] [They stand opposite each other in the middle of an abandoned house, their eyes meeting from across the room. They’ve been resurrected, their pasts continuing to collide right here in the future.]

“I can still taste it, you know,” [Ozric says with a grin.] “That unquenchable stench of their demise, it forever inhabits my taste buds.”

[Hysteria turns away.]

“How does it make you feel seeing me here, alive and kicking, when you thought you’d ended my life?”

[Again, nothing.]

“You can’t ignore me, Hysteria. I’m everything in your world. I took everything that made you Harrison and I created the monster you are today. I created your entire legacy. Look at me when I’m talking to you,” [he yells.] “LOOK AT ME!”

[Hysteria turns to face him.]

“I know what I am,” [he says in return.] “And I know what you made me. I was like you for the longest time, Ozric. I was killing mercilessly and without redemption. I took lives and I made people miserable, simply because I enjoyed how it made me feel. I know who I am. I know what I am.”

[He steps forward.]

“And I’m your worst nightmare. You didn’t just create a monster that night, you created your death. I killed you once and I’ll kill you again and again and again until the end of time. Whether you win the war, I will always win the battle.”

[They stand opposite each other, close enough to touch.] [Mortimer smiles.]

“It’s no laughing matter,” [Hysteria mocks.] “Just unfinished business.”



[One of the greatest rivalries in OSW history gets revisited one last time here tonight. Will the Spirit Walker emerge victorious or will the Shadow remain, even in death, the King?] [The bell sounds as both men rush forward, nailing one another with heavy lefts and rights, an exchange that neither man can seemingly get the better of before a stiff headbutt from Hawk staggers Lane back enough to allow him to rush forward, clotheslining Lane over the ropes to the floor below. Lane quickly gets to his feet right as Hawk rushes forward, GOING NATIVE! A huge running double fist hits Lane flush as he’s pulled up by the back of the head and tossed back into the ring by the Spirit Walker.] [Hawk doesn’t cover, instead pulling Lane up to his feet as he hoists him up high trying for the Red Arrow but Lane manages to slip down, rolling back, ROLLING IN THE FAST LANE! Lane hits that to the back of Hawk’s knee, a vicious chop block variation that sends Hawk screaming to the mat. Lane zeros in on the bad knee, drilling it with knee drop after knee drop before rolling it up into a sadistic kneebar. Hawk screams out in pain but refuses to tap as he slowly pulls himself towards the ropes, nearly getting to them as his finger tips scrape the edge] [Lane pulls Hawk back, letting go of the kneebar for a moment before locking Hawk up into the STF! Tommy screams out in pain as agony tears through his body, Lane wrenching back on the hold as he tries to force Hawk to tap out but the Spirit Walker refuses, finding inner strength somehow as he rises to his feet, Lane clinging to his back as he rushes forward, spinning around before slamming Lane backfirst hard into the steel turnbuckles. Lane lets go, slumping backwards as Hawk tries to lift him up into the air for the Red Arrow but his knee gives out, the Shadow rolling back, SHADOW KICK TO THE BACK OF THE HEAD! Hawk slumps to the mat as Lane drops down for the cover, ONE..TWO..THREE!!!] [His attack was viscous and pinpoint as the sheer power of Tommy Hawk was nothing to the wrath of the Shadow here tonight]


[After that fantastic match, both Mike Lane and Tommy Hawk get back to their feet and meet in the middle of the ring.] [They stare at each other, intensity in their eyes.] [And then it happens.] [The Dead suddenly begin swarming the ring. Like zombies, former deceased staff members, followers of Calypso and more begin entering the ring. Hawk and Lane go back to back, storming forward to fend off the assault.] [Hawk swings his axe, chopping through walker after walker with it, cutting them down where they stand.] [Lane nails a Shadowkick, then another, then another, inviting a whole host of the dead to his very own Shadowkick Party.] [Mike turns to see Hawk overwhelmed, pulling one away and nailing them, right hand after right hand until none remain. Tommy then throws his axe, watching it wisp past the face of The Shadow to bury in the head of an enemy behind him.] [With the deceased defeated, they turn to face each other, smiling.] [Then it happens.] [Tommy Hawk offers a handshake.] [Mike Lane thinks about it.] [Then accepts.] [The crowd go wilds as these two icons share a handshake and a hug in the middle of the ring. They came to finish unsettled affairs here tonight and they succeeded. These two legends will forever be remembered in OSW lore.] [Cut.]


[It’s the main event with Creator versus Creation with Ozric Mortimer squaring off with the man whose family he burned to death, Hysteria!] [The steel cage gleams as these two rivals stare at one another from across the ring. Ozric Mortimer grins as the fists of Hysteria begin to ball up. Ozric doesn’t budge, but he does beckon for Hysteria to approach.] [Hysteria’s hands ball up in anger as he rushes across the ring and begins throwing punches wildly! Ozric covers himself before getting his hands on the chest of Hysteria and pushes him back. Hysteria staggers backwards on the back of his feet before Ozric rushes towards him.] [BIG BOOT!] [The foot finds placement on the metal mask of Hysteria as he’s knocked off his feet. Ozric grabs Hysteria up by his mask before sending him into the ropes. Mortimer stops there, places his hands together, making himself into a bat-like figure, and NAILS Hysteria with a huge lunging punch once he returns!] [CIRQUEBOMB!] [Ozric doesn’t go for a cover or try to escape. He just looks down at Hysteria pitifully. He grabs the arm of Hysteria and drags him to the corner. He puts a finger up to the mouth-slit of the mask of Hysteria before hoisting him up to the top rope. He climbs up behind him before hooking the head of Hysteria and leaping off!] [ODE TO THE SPAR-NO!] [Hysteria managed to cling to the top rope and allow Ozric to fall on his own!] [THE CATACLYSM!] [The diving moonstomp from Hysteria drives his boots into the sternum and abdomen of Ozric! Hysteria grabs Ozric and pulls him towards the center of the ring before he covers!] [ONE…] [TW-KICKOUT!] [Hysteria looks a little surprised by the early kickout from Ozric, but he quickly kicks him in the side of the head and begins looking around the ring as if deciding his next pattern of attack. He grabs Ozric by his arm before hoisting the big man up. He rushes towards the ropes with his head, but Ozric stops him! Mortimer grabs Hysteria around the waist and tries for a German suplex, but Hysteria rolls through! He’s rolled him up!] [ONE…] [TWO….] [T-KICKOUT!] [That was almost it right there as Hysteria used the weight of Ozric against him. Ozric gets back to his feet and leaps up for a neckbreaker! Hysteria slams into the mat, but Mortimer doesn’t stop there. He grabs The Mad Mastermind, Hysteria, by his eyeholes of his mask before lifting him to his feet. Ozric grabs Hysteria and FLINGS him over the top rope!] [Hysteria SLAMS into the steel mesh surrounding the ring before falling onto the hard apron. Mortimer walks over and begins pressing his boot into the back of Hysteria’s head as his masked face is pressed up against the bottom of the steel cage!] [Mortimer grabs the leg of Hysteria and pulls him back into the center of the ring before reaching down and pulling the mask from his face! Hysteria’s hands cling to his face.] [Ozric pulls the mask over his own face as the crowd seems stunned. He grabs the head of the former LH Harrison and HEADBUTTS HIM WITH HIS OWN MASK!] [ONE…] [TWO…] […] [TEN HEADBUTTS!] [The forehead of Hysteria is now pouring blood as his face is coated in the crimson.] [MIRROR, MIRROR!] [Hysteria falls to his knees, but not to the floor! Hysteria looks up through the newly bestowed crimson mask at the man wearing his other red mask. Hysteria is shuddering from the pain he’s sustained, but he looks into the eyes sockets of the mask and raises two hands.] [Before giving Ozric Mortimer two middle fingers to show his appreciation.] [Ozric BACKHANDS him! Hysteria falls back onto his heels as he’s barely sitting up.] [Ozric hits the ropes and prepares another size fourteen boot to the face!] [THE LOST HOPE!] [Hysteria just hit the codebreaker out of nowhere! Ozric is shot back as if by a cannon as he hits the ropes and slumps to the floor. The mask sliding across the ring! Hysteria is laid out too though!] [Both men are prone and unmoving!] [Hysteria begins the slow crawl as he moves towards Ozric. He slumps an arm over his Creator!] [ONE…] [….] [TWO….] […] [THREE!] [NO! Ozric got a shoulder up at the very last second!] [Hysteria looks up puzzled. That was his Hail Mary so what’s next?!] [The Mad Mastermind staggers towards his mask and quickly pulls it over his head before beckoning for Ozric Mortimer to stand up. Mortimer slowly does as Hysteria hoists him up onto his shoulders. Hysteria begins circling as he’s preparing for his original finisher!] [But Mortimer elbows out of it!] [Three quick shots to the side of the head forces Hysteria to a knee. Ozric wraps his arms around his waist and HEAVES him across the ring with a release German suplex. Mortimer is standing, but his former happiness has turned into fury. He grabs Hysteria and lifts him OVER HIS HEAD! He sends him once more into the steel wall of the cage. Mortimer drags Hysteria into the center of the ring where he just stares down at him.] [Hysteria begins crawling up him slowly, but Mortimer just stares him down. Hysteria manages to get a kneeling position before he reaches up and punches Mortimer! The deranged clown just takes it on the chin. Hysteria throws another, but Ozric catches the punch before delivering a retaliatory one into the gut of Hysteria!] [The Mad Mastermind falls over in pain as Ozric grabs him and runs him HEADFIRST into the steel cage wall!] [Hysteria staggers back into the ring, still standing. Ozric Mortimer nails a kick to the ribs before pulling his head between his legs and leaping for a corkscrew motion!] [THE PAROXYSM!] [Hysteria’s head is spiked into the mat as Ozric just looks down at him. He walks over and pins him.] [One…] [….] [TWO…] […] [THREE!] [NOOOO! Hysteria got a shoulder up!] [Ozric Mortimer can’t believe it! He grabs Hysteria and yanks him to his feet as he holds him by the collar of his shirt.]

“You couldn’t save them, Harrison.”

[Ozric slaps him.]

“You couldn’t save your wife, Jessica.”


“You couldn’t save your daughter, Eva.”


“You couldn’t save your youngest, Grace.”


“You were never supposed to save them, Harrison!”

[SL-Hysteria catches the hand as his entire body is shaking with rage.]

“I don’t need to save them. I just need to AVENGE THEM!”

[KICK TO THE BALLS! Ozric recoils from the sudden impact as he releases Hysteria who straightens himself.]

“This is for Jessica… Eva… Gracey…”

[Hysteria delivers a vicious uppercut before grabbing Ozric by his hair to get within an inch of his face.]

“This is for me.”

[Hysteria kicks Ozric in the gut and lifts him up onto his shoulders before turning around the ring once again. Hysteria screams!] [But Ozric pulls the mask sideways on his face! Hysteria staggers before Mortimer pulls himself off. Hysteria rights his mask as Ozric is just staring at him.]

“This… is over, Harrison.”

[Ozric nails a jumping side kick before quickly pulling Hysteria between his legs and leaping up for another corkscrew, modified brainbuster!] [THE PAROXYSM!] [Hysteria’s face is buried in the mat as Ozric rolls him over and goes for the cover.] [One…] [….] [Two…] [….] [THREE!] [It’s all over. Ozric Mortimer rises to his feet as he has bested his creation on the night of The Risen. Hysteria isn’t moving as Mortimer walks over and places a boot upon his chest.]


[An abandoned warehouse.] [The sounds of groaning pollute the air with terror as we slowly enter an abandoned warehouse, in search of the person responsible. We finally approach Solomon Rhodes, stood above a hanging demon, bleeding them dry of what looks like a black tar like substance.]

“With the blood of this demon, I summon Abaddon.”

[Suddenly, Abaddon appears.]

“You took something from me, Abaddon,” [Rhodes says, closing in on the terrified Demon.] “And I want it back.”

[The demon looks around him, unsure of how to escape this predicament.]

“W-we made a deal,” [he begs.] “I can’t return your soul.”

[Rhodes shakes his head.] “I don’t want it,” [he admits.] “It was a price I paid to see the key but you tricked me and allowed the dead to rise. I want you to close them, or I’m going to leave you here for eternity.”

[Abaddon shakes his head.]

“There’s no way.”

[Enraged, Rhodes beats on him violently.]

“Close them!”

[Abaddon screams.]

“There’s no way! I can’t! I can’t!”

“You will!”

[Cut.] [Static.] [Hours later.] [Solomon Rhodes kneels weeping in the middle of the abandoned warehouse, a bloodied mess where Abaddon once was and a demon bled dry before him. He was no close to answers.] [With his head bowed, he puts his hands together.]

“Dear Lord, please hear my prayer. I’ve made it my mission to rescue my brother, like you asked, but I’ve made a mistake along the way. I sold a piece of my soul to a demon who tricked me into allowing the dead to rise. My foolishness has once again put the world in jeopardy and The Tap Room is the only thing stopping it from ending. Please, help me. Amen.”

[He stands up, looking to his left at the carnage in his wake.] [Flash.] [A piercing bright light appears before him, blinding him. With his eyes barely able to stay open, he shields his face with his arm, only to eventually see once more.] [Abaddon is gone.] [The Demon is gone.] [The Chief stands in their place. He offers a hand to Rhodes who takes it.]

“I will always protect you, Solomon,” [he says softly.] “On this you have my word.”

[Rhodes mouth gasps.]

“And the Tap Room?”

[The Chief puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles.]

“The dead no longer rise and those who rose have found peace. Their souls have returned to heaven with me.”

[Rhodes nods, grateful.]

“Now, you must complete your mission, Solomon. You have work to do.”

[Click.] [He’s gone.] [Cut.]



There’s nothing fancy about the way this pilot edition of Afterburn kicks off. There’s no music, no pyrotechnics, just a long hallway in the backstage area of Madison Square Garden’s and the roaring crowd in the background, making themselves well heard.

Just then, a man flies across the screen, crashing into a wall with a giant bone crunching thud.


“Please, just hold on a minute?” Errol Flynt is our Chairman and right now, he’s whimpering in a bad way on the floor, his hand raised to try and protect himself against whomever we’ve not yet seen in frame.

Instead of waiting though, the unknown masked assailant steps into the scene and stomps directly on his head, knocking him unconscious. He doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t even look into the camera, he simply turns around and walks away, heading down the corridor.

The camera shot then changes to the ring where two men are standing, each with a microphone and surrounded by the jam packed MSG crowd. The first man, brown and gray hair, introduces the show.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Old School Wrestling!” he says enthusiastically to a cheer from the crowd. “My name is Rick Walker and alongside me is Richard Roman and we’re your commentary team. Errol Flynt was on his way out here to introduce himself, the company and all of us to you but I’m afraid that unusual circumstances have prevented that from happening.”

Richard interrupts, “Like him getting his ass kicked, you mean?”

The crowd don’t like that and neither does Rick, who in turn just shakes his head and moves on.

“So instead, myself and Richard will take over that responsibility for you here tonight. As we’re sure you’re aware, there’s a massive sixteen man tournament for the World Heavyweight Championship that is due to begin-“

Audioslave’s “Cochise” suddenly interrupts and a ring of fire opens to display Mike Lane. He is clad in all white, and has his head down. As the funky beat kicks in followed by the lyrics, Lane looks up and grins as Destiny walks out from behind the curtain to join him. He walks with a confident stride down to the ring, ignoring the calls of the fans in the audience. A brisk jog up the steps is followed by Lane stepping between the ropes and walking to the middle of the ring to bask in the power he has brought to it.

“Excuse me,” Rick loudly announces, stopping the music and addressing Mike Lane. “Can’t you see that we’re trying to introduce the show?”

Mike laughs at him, shaking his head and then snatching the microphone.

“You were trying to introduce the show but now you can waddle your asses over there,” he points aggressively to the announce table. “And do your damn jobs. This ring is for professionals like myself, not amateurs like you.” Mike says pointing to Rick and Rick alone.

With that says, Rick Walker has enough experience that he doesn’t need telling twice and quickly exits to the outside with Richard smirking, but following in tow. Meanwhile, the fans let Mike Lane have it both barrels.

“Oh please, shut your whining, alright? My future father in law is lying down unconscious backstage because some animal thought he was target practice. I don’t honestly give a damn what any of you people think. Now you’re all here for wrestling, right? So bring out my first victim and let’s get this damn tournament started.”

Mike throws the microphone down and gives Destiny a kiss, looking towards the entrance ramp in anticipation of his match.

Mike Lane’s request to get on with his match is quickly obliged by Fate who makes his way to the ring with a purpose. Mike meanwhile leaned over the rope to bad mouth him and caught a right hand to the face that kicked this thing off. The bell rung and Fate was straight on the offensive, whipping Lane into the corner and following up with a massive Leaping Knee. He pulls him straight out and into a Snap Suplex, rolling straight over into the cover. One…. Kick Out! Lane quickly rolls to the outside and tries to regain some composure but Fate isn’t willing to let him rest and follows.

Mr. Inevitable storms after him, spinning him around and attempting a right hand that’s blocked and subsequently returned. Mike grabs him by the arm and drags him chest and face first straight into the ring post, taking him down to the floor. The Phoenix pulls him to his feet and rolls him back into the ring, going to work with boots before dropping down into the cover himself. One…. Two.. KICK OUT! Another kick out and this time, both men are getting back to their feet.

Lane is still a little fresher and catches Fate with a kick to the gut, planting him with a Single Arm DDT. This time he neglects he cover, getting back to his feet and signalling for the end. Fate slowly stirs back to his and LEAPING SUPERKICK! THE SHADOW KICK! NO!! Fate ducks under it perfectly, ADVERSITY! DOUBLE KNEE FACE BUSTER! Fate scrambles into the cover.. One…. Two….. THREE!! Fate shuts Mike Lane’s mouth and advances to the next round of the tournament. What a way to kick off the debut edition of Afterburn with such a brilliant match.

Hayden Hardkore is preparing for one hell of a match up with Desmond Cross here tonight but when he arrives in frame, the fans go wild for him. A smile creeps across his face as he listens in, only for the door to open and DTR of all people to walk in. Hayden, who knows Dave all too well, hops straight to his feet with a readiness to fight.

“Hold on, I’m not here to fight you man,” Dave explains with his hands out, trying to calm the situation down before it possibly escalates. “I’m not the same guy I was in the IWF, I’m not here to cause trouble.”

Hayden doesn’t believe him.

“You realize that I saw the things you did, right? You burned down houses, brutalized people, burned people. You can’t honestly expect me to believe that you’ve changed? I believed you had been burned. I believed you had a scarred face but you know what? It was all lies, wasn’t it?”

Rick Walker: “I watched IWF as a fan frequently and I have to say, I don’t really believe him either.”

Richard Roman: “You don’t? What does a man have to do to change?”

“I have a lot to make up for, I get that. I’ve done some despicable things in my life but that was a life time ago,” he pleads, trying to show himself to be a new man. “I’m going to prove it to you and to everyone else here. People can change,” DTR says with a handshake offered. “I know you know that.”

“I don’t think so,” Hayden says refusing to shake his hand. “I think The Virus is still swimming around inside there and this nice guy act will soon wear off. I’m not buying it and you can bet your bottom dollar that no-one from the IWF in this federation will either.”

Rick Walker: “It may sound harsh but he isn’t wrong. I was just a fan and I’m telling you now, if DTR pulled this back then, you wouldn’t go near him with twenty foot barge poll.”

Richard Roman: “You talk about being a fan but I competed there and Dave was a stand up athlete. He was the kind of guy you could trust with your kids.”

Rick Walker: “He was the kind of guy that’d set your kids on fire, make no bones about it.”

The Rattlesnake takes back his offer of a handshake, looking dejected. He heads towards the door and stops, turning to Hayden, wanting to try one last time.

“Eventually you’re going to realize that I’m not the man I used to be.”

Hardkore sighs.

“I hope so David, I do,” he says honestly, making The Rattlesnake smile. “Because if you are the man you used to be the Old School Wrestling is in for a torturous time of it.”

This match started in a one sided manner, Lennox taking control quickly with kicks and punches, backing The Reverend up into the corner and going to work with hard shots to the stomach and face. The Incredible One wasted no time in sending him across the ring to the opposite side, connecting with a massive Corner Clothesline on the return. He pulls him from the corner and into a Belly to Belly Suplex, dropping him hard on the canvas.

Refusing to cover and clearly looking to make a statement of intent, Lennox pulls him back to his feet and scoops him up, dropping him with a Backbreaker. The fans don’t like the pure arrogance of this guy who gets back up and smirks at the carnage he’s causing. The Incredible One finally signals for the end, pulling The Reverend to his feet, ducking a feeble Clothesline attempt and slammimg him down hard with a German Suplex! THEN ANOTHER… A SWIVEL OF THE HIPS AND A THIRD! THE 410 SPECIAL!

There’s just no chance of a comeback now and Lennox knows it. He gets back to his feet and goes straight to the legs of the Reverend, turning him over with a SHARPSHOOTER! THE INCREDIBLE LOCK!!He’s bang in the middle of the ring and Damon has no choice but to tap out. An incredibly one sided match here tonight that shows the world how impressive this young Matt Lennox is.

In what has already begun as an extremely frustrating night for Mike Lane, he’s backstage and storms into the office of Errol Flynt – who after being attacked earlier this evening is nursing his head with an ice pack.

“Before you say a damn word kid, I know you’re pissed off,” Errol stops him in his tracks. “And what, you want revenge against Fate for beating you? We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”

Mike frowns at him.

“Like who?” Mike sneers back.

Errol stands up and walks over to his drinks cabinet, pouring himself and Mike a whisky then handing him the glass.

“The American Capitalists, that’s who. It was John Pathlow who attacked me earlier tonight kid and from what I understand, he was paid to do it.”

Rick Walker: “Hold on a second, John Pathlow did that?”

Richard Roman: “That wasn’t the smartest move of his part.”

“What do you mean; paid?” Mike responds, taking a sip of his whisky. “Are you saying he didn’t attack you because he wanted to?”

“The American Capitalists are all about capital, Mike. Someone paid them to beat me up and I want you to find out who. That means that we’re going to war with the American Capitalists because you know they won’t give up that information easily,” Errol says with a command over his business and ideas. “That also means that you’re going to need a partner.”

Rick Walker: “I don’t know if anyone on this roster is going to want to take part in that war.”

Richard Roman: “Hold on a second, you just have to think about this one. Whoever helps Mike Lane take on those two idiots and find out who’s responsible will be in the bosses favour; I don’t care where you work, that’s the best place to be.”

Mike nods in agreement.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure I can find someone on this roster who given the right reward, will be extremely helpful,” Mike boasts with a smirk, only to down the rest of his drink and place the glass on the cabinet. “Just leave it with me.”

And with that, The Phoenix heads out of the office, leaving Errol to finish his drink with a wry smile on his face.

Waldo The Clown wastes no time in getting the shenanigans underway in this one by offering a handshake only to whip it away and honk his nose. This doesn’t impress Acid who quickly attacks with swift kicks, backing Waldo into the ropes and whipping him across the ring, connecting with a Crossbody Block on the return. That sends The Clown sprawling to the outside to recover, except he finds Acid leaping over the top rope with a giant Splash that catches him off guard.

The Green Dragon pulls him back to his feet but is suddenly stunned backwards, a buzzer on the palm of Waldo’s glove responsible for shocking him. Waldo fights back with buzzing right hands – literally, that turns into a DDT on the concrete floor. The Clown throws Acid back into the ring and attempts a cover.. One… Two.. Kick Out! He pops back to his feet and drags The Dragon over to the corner, running back to the opposite run and taking a long run up before leaping into the air – WHOOPIE CUSHION BUSTER!! NO!! ACID WITH A LEG UP CATCHES HIM DIRECTLY IN THE MID-SECTION!

With the Bronco Buster missed, Acid is quickly up onto the top rope.. ACID RAIN BOMB!! HIGH LEAPING SWANTON!! NO!! THE CLOWN MOVES!! Unbelievably, Waldo rolls out of the way and Acid plants himself firmly on the canvas. Both men slowly get back to their feet and GREEN MIST! WALDO SPITS IN HIS FACE!The mask helped catch some of it but Acid doesn’t know what to do, he stumbles forwards and The Clown catches hm.. SHIRANUI!! NO!! STEAM RELEASE!! STEAM JUST CAME OUT OF ACID’S MASK AND NOW WALDO IS BLINDED! ACID WITH A ROLL UP… ONE…. TWO… THREE!! Out of no-where and in the most crazy of circumstances, Acid has put himself into the final eight with a strange display indeed. Both men ended up blinded by it was The Green Dragon who managed to pick up the all important win.

After that amazing match, we catch Acid walking through the curtain backstage to be greeted by John Pathlow. John doesn’t look too impressed and with a stern expression on his face, clearly has some bad news his victorious partner here tonight.

“Remember the job we took tonight?” he says looking at the blank expressionless eyes of his partner.“Well it has come back to bite us, just like I said it would. I don’t care about Errol Flynt and his future son in law, effectively putting a price on our heads but what I do care about,” he says pointing to the ring, “Is the World Heavyweight Championship and our 50/50 split.”

Rick Walker: “How are these two souly about money? They don’t care about representing the OSW, they just want the money that title brings.”

Richard Roman: “Some people are in this business for titles, some for kicking people’s asses and some for making money, Ricky. These boys just want a quick buck and it’s going to get them hurt.”

Acid nods and suggests with his movement that John following him down the corridor and he does, entering a locker room where inside, a suited man sits tied to a chair.

“What’s this?” The Alpha Dog seems confused. “He paid us, right?”

Acid again nods.

Richard Roman: “Is this guy mute or something?”

“Alright then,” John cracks his knuckles. “I suppose it’s time we found out who paid you to pay us.”

And with that, Pathlow shuts the door on the camera, locking us out. Whilst the commentators remark about what they’ve just seen, all we can hear is the sound of a man yelping in pain whilst physically beaten and tied to a chair.

Rick Walker: “This is just gruesome! Utterly gruesome.”

Richard Roman: “But you something Rick? It proves that even the American Capitalists don’t yet know who paid them to take out Errol tonight.”

Rick Walker: “Of course, you’re right, it could of been anyone on the roster.”

When the bell sounded in this one, both men locked up in the middle of the ring and exchanged technical locks until Marcus dropped The Rattlesnake with a big Hip Toss. He quickly got back to his feet and walked into a Clothesline, accompanied by a quick cover.. One…. Kick Out. DTR wasn’t going to be pinned after that. The Black Knight wasted no time in getting him back to his feet but it was Dave with right hands to the mid-section that stopped him in his tracks. Dave pushed him back into the ropes, sent him across the ring and launched himself with the Double Knee Strike.

The Rattlesnake quickly helped him up only to connect with a DDT and go for the cover. One… Two… Kick Out! The Black Knight refuses to be bounced out of here that easily. Both men are slowing now and back up, DTR whipping Marcus into the ropes but it’s reversed, Marcus spinning him back around and connecting with a Belly to Belly Suplex. He covers, hooking the inside leg.. One… Two… KICK OUT! Another kick out and by now, The Black Knight finds himself getting a little frustrated.

Marcus is back to his feet first and attempts to pick Dave up, only for a quick inside roll up out of no-where… One…. Two.. THREE!! KICK OUT! He barely kicks out and both men roll away from the pin fall, getting back to their feet and THE RATTLER! WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM? The Stunner that see’s DTR drop to his knee’s absolutely takes The Black Knight’s head off. He covers.. One…. Two…. Three!! There you have it! Dave The Rattlesnake is heading to the next round and that came literally out of no-where.

“The fresh prince of wrestling is filmed if front of a live audience.”

Music from the 90’s can be heard blaring out of a locker room that we soon arrive and enter, the camera faced with partying youth, women and cups of beer. Right in the middle of the party is none other than Matthew Cories, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Welcome to the show more exciting than an episode of the Power Rangers,” he beams, only to be interrupted somewhat by a girl who walks past. “Sup b?”

The girl scoffs at him and after a long stare, he finally he turns his attention back to us again.

“I already told that I’m all that and a bag of chips and I’m not lying. In a few minutes time I’m going to put on a wrestling clinic. It’s going to have everything. It’s going to have emotion, just like when Will and Carlton were arrested for being black. It’s going to have action like an episode of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the unpredictability of Dawson’s Creek.”

“Excuse me?” Suddenly comes a voice that interrupts him. Standing there with a smug look on his face is Professor Bordeaux. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your schooling out there, instead of partying like some kind of animal? This isn’t prom, Matthew.”

The music suddenly screeches to a halt and everyone turns to look at the obvious intruder.

“Who do you think you are; Mr. Belding or something? I know Mr. Belding and sir, you are no Mr. Belding.

“Rick Walker: “That’s right, he is no Mr. Belding.”

Richard Roman: “No Mr. Belding, you say?”

Rick Walker: “No Mr. Belding.”

All comedy aside, Matthew doesn’t seem too impressed and neither does Professor Bordeaux.

“Listen child, out there tonight, class will be in session. For you in just a moments, there will be no sitting at the back of the class firing spitballs from your little pea shooter. This match is a tournament for the OSW World Heavyweight Championship and there will be none of these shennagins.”

Everyone laughs at the word shennagins, which irritates the Professor to the point of storming out. The music quickly continues and Matthew, with a grin on his face, heads towards the door.

“Feenay! Fee-hee-hee-hee-nay! I said fa-ha-ha-Feenay! FEEE-NY!”

Rick Walker: “Well folks, if that wasn’t something then guess what; Professor Bordeaux vs. Matthew Cories is up next.”

Richard Roman: “Time for that kid to get taught a valuable lesson if you ask me.”

These two had already been introduced after their earlier confrontation but that only made them disike each other more. The match started quickly with Cories agility seeing him duck a Clothesline, launch himself from the middle rope and connect with a Crossbody of his own.. One… Kick Out! The quick pin throws Bordeaux of his game and The Fresh Prince has him back up, into a Side Headlock and quickly a Hip Toss. The Professor slides to the outside to regroup, and as Matthew approaches the ropes, whips his legs out from underneath him.

With that The Professor is back in action and slides back into the ring, stomping away at Cories as much as he can before helping him back to his feet and sending him into the ropes, connecting with a big Clothesline. He drops into the cover.. One… Two… Kick Out. Cories gets a shoulder up but is dragged back to his feet, only to fight back with a shot to the mid-section, another, another, and a MASSIVE DDT! The Fresh Prince covers one more time… One… Two… Kick Out! Another kick out and this one is quickly coming to an erratic close.

The Fresh Prince decides it’s time to go up top and heads to the top rope, positioning himself andSHOOTING STAR PRESS! NO! THE PROFESSOR MOVED! He slams into the canvas and now it’s anyone’s game. Slowly both men get back to their feet and it’s Bordeaux with a kick to the mid-section, pulling the kid in with a Double Underhook Facebuster position – BUT NO, CORIES DROPS DOWN AND SCOOTS THROUGH HIS LEGS, SPINNING BORDEAUX… THE CHUMBAWAMBA!! NOO!! BORDEAUX FROM BEHIND THIS TIME WITH A ROLL UP AND A HANDFULL OF TIGHTS… ONE… TWO.. THREE! HE STOLE IT! THAT BASTARD STOLE IT! Professor Bordeaux is heading to the next round and by God, what a shame as well. He utterly stole this one.

Fate is standing by backstage with Charlie Thompson, looking rather pleased with himself after an impressive debut victory earlier tonight.

“Fate, earlier tonight you defeated Mike Lane to advance into-“

“Hold on a second Thompson, can you hear that?” both of them stop speaking and listen in as the fans begin chanting his name. “That’s the people, baby. Tonight they got their first taste of Fate and can’t you tell they’re salivating for more? It was destined that tonight I would advance in the tournament, just like I believe it is destiny that I’ll be standing on the mountain apex as your OSW World Heavyweight Champion.”

Rick Walker: “These fans are really behind Fate here tonight.”

Richard Roman: “Why? I don ‘t get it. He barely scraped past Mike Lane.”

Rick Walker: “That’s not exactly true.”

“Destiny?” suddenly scoffs a voice from out of frame. That voice belongs to the mammoth Desmond Cross, who walks towards Fate with a shake of his head. “Destiny has nothing to do with it, nor does fate. I don’t believe in destiny or fate, I believe in God. I believe in the Messiah and it is he who deserves credit for your success.”

Fate looks at him sideways, closing in.

“No-body takes credit for what Fate does in that ring, do you understand me? You shouldn’t be concerned with God or what I’ve done here tonight. You should be concerned with Hayden Hardkore.”

Desmond smiles, agreeing.

“You’re right, I should be. But you see Fate, I have the holy Lord on my side. I have God in my corner, helping me to fight and win my battles. Hayden is Hayden, I’ve fought him before but you? You irk me. I will defeat him tonight and God willing, I will meet you in the tournament.”

Rick Walker: “Fate vs. Cross? Can you imagine that match?”

Richard Roman: “Those are some strong views on the line in a wrestling match, lemme tell ya.”

Both men stare each other down and it isn’t until Cross is about to walk away that Fate smiles.

“As fate would have it.” he responds.

Cross chuckles and continues to walk away, leaving Fate with a big smile on his face.

World Heavyweight Championship Tournament

The beautiful flow of Ecstasy of Gold hits and out from behind the curtain walks two men, holding it from each side as Lord Merriweather steps through with his arms in the air, seeking the fans immediate approval, which never comes. He turns his nose up in disgust at their boo’s and makes a purposeful walk to the ring, waiting for his two “men” to clean each ring step and then spread the ropes for his entry.

Rick Walker: “Well folks, we’re about set for our next match of the evening but it appears that Lord Richard has one or two things he wants to get off his chest before hand.”

Richard Roman: “I can’t believe a man of his stature is being forced to compete against Cosplay here tonight.”

With a microphone now in hand, the wrinkled befuddled Merriweather speaks.

“Tonight, in front of all you idiotic, moronic imbeciles,” he says to a roar of boos from the crowd. “I’m supposed to perform.”

Rick Walker: “That’s why he’s on the roster.”

Richard Roman: “I disagree. He’s simply adding class to the roster, that’s all.”

“I’m supposed to face some oversized man-that-looks-like-two in the middle of this ring for an opportunity to hold a Championship that would be better suited around my waist in the first place,” he scoffs looking angrily around the audience. “So I’m out here to tell you exactly what I tried to tell Errol Flynt earlier tonight; I will not be competing.”

Rick Walker: “He can’t do that, can he?”

Cosplay steps out into the arena dressed as Batman as the theme tune to Batman plays. As he comes down to the ring he runs along the crowd trying to high five people, but everyone ignores him. He walks up the ring steps and stumbles his way over to Lord Merriweather.

Richard Roman: “Look at this moron and tell me he can’t.”

Batman – as he apparently wants to be known has a microphone in hand and one or two words for Lord Richard Merriweather.

“Alfred!” he screams in a deep voice. “Why aren’t you in your outfit and in the Batcave? We have no time for these shenanigans.”

Merriweather looks towards Edwards and Stephen who shrug in confusion.

“The world needs saving and you’re taking time out of my busy schedule to stand here and complain? Go and get dressed, darnit. Batman needs a sandwich before he goes and saves the world.”

“Excuse me?” Merriweather asks somewhat perturbed. “Who exactly do you think I am, young man?”

Batman scoffs loudly. “You’re ALFRED, MY BUTLER!”

Rick Walker: “That’s has not gone down well.”

Richard Roman: “Fly away Batman, fly away.”

Now looking like the angriest man alive, Merriweather nods at his henchmen who quickly attack poor Batman. They knock him to the canvas with right hands and stomp the holy hell out of him, all the while, the words BOOM, POW, THWACK appear on the Tron.

Richard Roman: “Hahaha! That’s brilliant.”

Stephen and Edward hold Batman down as Lord Richard hits the ropes, comes back and leaps into the air…


Richard Roman: “What agility for a man of what, eighty?”

Rick Walker: “How can you condone this? Instead of wrestling this match, Merriweather has had his henchman attack poor Cosplay and lay him out.”

Merriweather bends down, shaking his head at Batman.

“Maybe one day you’ll understand, Cosplay. Maybe one day all of you will too,” he points to the crowd around him as well. “But only first class will do.”

He drops the microphone and demands that his henchmen open the ring for him so he can exit.

Richard Roman: “Maybe Cosplay can look on the bright side, huh? At least he’s into the final eight with a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship. Our Lord has just declined his opportunity to take part.”

Rick Walker: “Yeah and good riddance.”

The scene fades to the backstage area with referee’s attending to a poor unconscious Cosplay.

Poor Cosplay is being helped to the backstage by four officials who despite their number are still struggling to assist him. They finally drop him in a chair near the curtain and leave him there, where he’s quickly approached by Fred Sanders.

“Cosplay, can I get a quick word with you about what just happened out there?” Fred asks without much compassion, only to receive silence for his trouble. “Cosplay? Hello?”

Cosplay doesn’t even look at him.

“Batman?” That gets his attention. “You realize that you’re not actually Batman, right?” Fred growls at him. “Batman wouldn’t get his ass kicked by a feeble old man.”

Rick Walker: “That’s not exactly true.”

Richard Roman: “That’s how I saw it.”

Cosplay looks up at him, his mask still on and roughly grabs the interviewer by his shirt, using all his weight to slam him against the wall.

“Batman didn’t get his ass kicked,” the gruff impersonated voice of Cosplay responds angrily.“Sometimes the Batman has to fake getting his ass kicked so that he can trap the joker.”

With that said, out of the corner of his eye, Cosplay notices Waldo The Clown walking nearby.

“JOKER!!” he yells angrily in the direction of Waldo. “You may think you’ve gotten the upper hand on Batman but you’ve only succeeded in making me want to lock you up in Arkham Asylum even more!”

Rick Walker: “That’s not the Joker.”

Richard Roman: “You could’ve fooled me.”

Waldo walks over, a giant smile on his face.

“OOOHHHHH HEHEHE HAHA, YOU’RE A SILLY LITTLE BOY AIN’TCHA?” the clown reacts loudly, startling Batman – I mean Cosplay. “You want me to tell you a joke?” he says pulling out a flower. “What did the flower say to the silly boy?”

Cosplay reluctantly leans in to look at the flower, Waldo spraying water in his face and then running off. Cosplay shakes his head angrily, looking back at Fred and slamming his hand into his fist.

“The Joker must be stopped!”

Rick Walker: “I honestly have no words to describe what we just witnessed.”

Richard Roman: “That’s why I should be lead commentator. I’ll summarize this whole thing for you and the audience, shall I? Batman over there, well he put on a fuck-ton of weight and Joker – he’s the one that just sprayed water in Batman’s face, has given up his job as a criminal mastermind to blow up balloons for children wearing floppy shoes and a big Ronald McDonald wig..”

Rick Walker: “Why thank you Richard.”

Richard Roman: “Not a problem.”

The insane Marvellous Master Chef is quickly taken down to the canvas with a Clothesline as the bell rings. The massive monster of a man in John Pathlow wastes no time and as he gets back up catches him with a Belly to Belly Suplex. MMC is reeling now and rolls to the outside, looking for his skillet. The Alpha Dog follows him, catching a rake to the eyes for his trouble, followed up by Chef hamming him head first into the ring post. He quickly rolls him back into the ring and goes for the cover… One… Two..MASSIVE KICK OUT! Pathlow quite literally launches Master Chef off him to kick out.

That surprises The Marvellous One who rushes off towards the ropes as Pathlow gets back to his knees, nailing him with a brutal Basement Dropkick. He covers again.. One… KICK OUT! By now he’s losing his patience and heads up top…. SHOOTING STAR PRESS!! HE GOT IT!! An instant cover this time… One… Two.. KICK OUT! Furious with his inability to put Pathlow away in this one, he rolls to the outside again, grabbing his skillet and heading back into the ring. The referee backs him into the corner and refuses to let him use it which inadvertently gives Pathlow a chance to get back to his feet.

By the time MMC pushes the referee to one side and storms at The Alpha Dog with his skillet, Pathlow is well aware and ducks under the intended shot, dropping him with a Swinging Neckbreaker that sends the weapon flying. Both men are soon back to their feet and John nails him with a Running Knee Strike and signals for the end. He waits for Master Chef to get back up and when he does, he stumbles forward..BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA! LEAPING SIDEKICK!! NO!! Marvellous Master Chef ducks under and rolls him up, grabbing the middle rope… ONE…. TWO… THREE! He cheated! That bastard just cheated by holding the ropes! Either way, MMC is heading to the final eight at the expense of John Pathlow and you know there’s going to be some hell to pay for that.

The sound of “Chariots of Fire” by Vangelis is heard throughout the arena, prompting the crowd to rise to their feet with a roar of excitement as the lights slowly begin to dim. Suddenly red, white, and blue pyrotechnic effects begin to explode from the base of the entrance ramp that last several seconds before “The Enforcer” Brent Kersh appears on the upper portion of the structure. The OSW superstar steps out onto the steel stage with his hands on his hips and looking around the arena in appreciation of the response from the crowd. Kersh is wearing a loose fitting black tee shirt embroidered with the letters ‘OSW’ and soaked in sweat. In addition,

Rick Walker: “Well here comes Brent Kersh, some of whom have called a massive coup for OSW.”

Richard Roman: “He’s a huge star in the world of wrestling and not one many expected to make a debut with us. Personally though, I can’t say I rate the guy.”

Rick Walker: “Brent is a multi-time Champion, which is multiple more times than you. Perhaps you should show the guy some respect, just like this sold out MSG crowd here tonight.”

“The Enforcer” is wearing his traditional wrestling attire of black tights, boots, kneepads, kneebraces, and white tape wrapped tightly around his wrists. As the colorful collage of sparks begin to die down, Kersh begins his approach to the ring. Maintaining a calm and collected mannerism, Brent moves back and forth from one side of the walkway to the other, slapping hands with the fans lining the security railing. Once the professional wrestler gets to within several feet of the ring apron, he sprints the remaining distance — sliding under the bottom rope and coming to his feet in the middle of the ring. The OSW superstar lifts both hands into the air as he maneuvers his way around the ring and soon receives a microphone.

“It’s been a long time no see, huh?” Brent asks the crowd who cheer at his return to professional wrestling. “The last time I stood in a ring ready to compete, it was two years prior and I must admit, I’ve missed this. There’s been a lot of questions asked of me recently, like where I went, will I stay and what am I looking for but know this, if only this; I’m ready to fight.”

The fans pop, chanting his name.

“Now tonight, there appears to be a World Championship tournament that I’ve not been invited to participate in,” Brent remarks to a boo from the crowd, only to put up his hand and signal that it’s okay.“No, it’s okay, really. I don’t mind working my way up from the very bottom but that means starting with my opponent tonight; 9… 1…. 1!”

“911! 911! 911!”

The booming, emblematic sound bite of “NINE-ONE-ONE” (similar to that of the nWo’s “NEW-NEW-NEW WORLD ORDER”) precedes the start of Pearl Jam’s Even Flow. Three pyrotechnics erupt separately at the head of the entrance to the arena, before the masked form of 911 is propelled into the air from beneath the staging area to a chorus of cheers.

Richard Roman: “Ask and you shall receive.”

Rick Walker: “This is going to be one hell of a match but I wonder what 911 has to say for himself.”

He jogs along the aisle, clapping hands with any fans holding their arms out in anticipation. Leaping onto the apron, he holds the top rope and uses the bottom rope as a springboard to leap and forward somersault into the ring. He then heads over to the corner and grabs a microphone of his own, laughing.

“You know Kersh, I didn’t exactly know what to expect when I came out here. It would seem that you’re not the only one starting from the bottom and that our match tonight, it’s a show stopper for the pair of us,” he says as Brent nods in agreement. “Which means only one thing; we both want and have to win. By the end of this match, only one of us will be leaving here in an ambulance and I can tell you something, it won’t be me.”

Brent chuckles to himself as well.

“I’ve done this dance before, son. I’ve been in the ring opposite cocky young guys like you for many years and do you know what’s always happened? Whether it’s a one-two-three or a tap-tap-tap, you always end up eating your words,” Brent lets him know with a smile. The fans meanwhile are quickly beginning to split between them, with chants directed at both men. “So how about we stop with the yapping and get to the fighting?”

The Enforcer chucks his microphone to the canvas and give 911 a wink, who hasn’t quite finished.

“Sounds good to me. But let me leave you with something to dwell on whilst I’m kicking your ass; when I’m done with you, who you gonna call?”

With that, 911 also drops his microphone and it looks like this one is on.

Before this ambulance match can even start it’s like a war of words between the crowd. Split directly down the middle between those who love Brent Kersh and those who love 911, The White Ranger rallies them up by yelling “Who ya gonna call” loudly into the audience, receiving “911” back in support. Kersh meanwhile stands focused, listening with a big ol’ smile as his half of the crowd chant back “You’re going home in an ambulance.”

The match starts with a goodwill handshake before Kersh offers a lock up that 911 foolishly takes, ending up with him on his knees and back to his feet in a Headlock. The White Ranger manages to send the big man into the ropes, only to find himself on the receiving end of a Shoulder Block on the way back. Kersh though seizes the opportunity and quickly dumps his opponent over the top rope and to the outside. He soon follows him out with clubbing forearm blows to the back of the head and neck as 911 stumbles away, eventually turning to duck under and connect with a surprise Dropkick.

That buys him some time and he utilizes that fast, hopping onto the barricade with cat like agility and as The Enforcer gets back to his feet, he catches him with a Hurricanrana that sends Kersh tumbling to the concrete floor. 911 is back to his feet first, albeit slowly and reaches under the ring, grabbing himself a steel chair. By the time he turns around though, The Enforcer is waiting and BIG BOOT TO THE CHAIR, TO THE SKULL! THAT HAD TO HURT! Kersh grabs the chair and throws it down, pulling 911 to his feet and dragging him over to the entrance ramp.

The fans are urging their man on as 911 fights out, bouncing Kersh’ head off the guardrail and stumbling him. He goes at him with kicks, lefts, rights, then a massive SPINNING HEEL that could of damn near knocked Brent’s teeth out. The Goodwill Samaritan grabs Kersh by the head and hops onto the ring apron, spinning off with A THUNDEROUS TORNADO DDT!! “Holy Shit” chants reign out as both men lay feeling it on the concrete floor. 911 is first back to his feet and grabs Kersh, trying his best to drag him up towards the ambulance – barely succeeding given his giant frame.

With that, 911 has made it to the ambulance and rushes him back first into the double doors. The Enforcer hits the floor and that gives 911 the opportunity to open the doors, though by the time he has, Brent is back up and pulls him forward into a Short Arm Clothesline. This match is reaching its conclusion and both men know it. Kersh grabs The White Ranger and pulls him to his feet, attempting to throw him head first into the ambulance – except 911 spins out and reverses, attempting to throw Kersh inside BUT NO! He reverses and with all that momentum, launches 911 straight into the ambulance. He quickly slams the doors shut and this one is over, The Enforcer has picked up the win in a fantastic match.

The match might be over and the ambulance driving off but that doesn’t stop the doors from suddenly flying open in mid-drive, 911 launching himself out and into a roll across the concrete floor.

Richard Roman: “WHAT THE HELL?!”

Rick Walker: “Did we REALLY just see that?”

Brent can’t believe his eyes as 911 pulls himself back to his feet and stumbles over to him, stopping by to stare him down for a moment before attempting to walk away.

Richard Roman: “This might get a little rough.”

But instead of letting him go, The Enforcer stops him.

“Damn kid, you’ve got some balls,” Brent says off microphone, clearly eluding to the fact that despite being beaten here tonight, 911 refused to leave the building in an ambulance. He offers a handshake and 911, who takes his cue from the roaring crowd, takes him up on it. “Good match, man.”

Both men raise their arms in unison and soak in the crowd reaction before heading to the backstage area, having put on one hell of a match here tonight.

Rick Walker: “That has to be the most sportsmanlike match we’ve seen here tonight?”

Richard Roman: “It makes you sick, doesn’t it?”

“GOD DAMNIT!” is what we hear as the segment opens backstage with The Black Knight throwing his gym bag against a wall. He’s pissed off at being beaten by DTR toight, if only by a small margain. He’s about to storm out when laughing behind him, is Matt Lennox, getting ready to go home himself. The infuriated Knight turns around quizicially, staring straight at the Incredible One. “What’s so fuckin’ funny?”

“Oh come on, you don’t see it? There’s this big idiot in front of me, crying because he lost tonight. I suppose we can’t all taste the sweet taste of victory, can we?” Matt says with a I-want-to-knock-his-teeth-out grin.

“And who the fuck are you?” bluntly asks Marcus, who obviously isn’t a happy man.

Matt stands up and gets closer, tilting his head.

“Yeah, that’s a good one. The era of incredibility started tonight and you’ll have me believe I’m a fool if you didn’t witness it. But I’ll tell you this, if you don’t want to witness it again, I’d get outta here.”

Rick Walker: “Them be fighting words, me thinks.”

Richard Roman: “Marcus doesn’t want any piece of the Incredible One, let me assure you.”

“I’ll tell you something, if you think you’re so tough that you won’t get bounced in a match with me, how about we put that to the test?” Marcus considers. “Next week on Afterburn, The Black Knight vs. Matt Lennox inside a Steel Cage.”

Rick Walker: “Well Holy crap.”

Richard Roman: “That escalated quickly.”Matt grins.

“If you want to lock yourself inside a Cage with me, that’s your problem. I’ll see you next week on Afterburn.”

With that, Marcus turns his back to leave and FOREARM TO THE BACK OF THE SKULL! Lennox catches him with a blindsided shot and bundles him into the nearest locker head first.

Rick Walker: “THAT’S A CHEAP SHOT!!.”

Matt finds it hilarious and steps over the fallen body of The Black Knight, with his ring bag, ready to exit the building. Marcus may of made the challenge but he didn’t expect that, which means next week on Afterburn, Lennox is going to have an angry Knight on his hands.

Many heated words had already been exchanged by the time these two men hit the ring and when they did, it was a drag out brawl. The bell sounded and they went straight at each other with fierce right hands, brawling across the ring until Famous Clotheslined Zeek to the outside. Of course he followed and was caught, slammed into the barricade and then levelled with kicks. Wrestling didn’t take part in this contest as Williams launched Famous head first into the steel ring post.

The referee came to the outside and gave up on the count, quickly realizing that this would end in a disqualification if he wasn’t careful. The RIP City Saint pummelled Ed up the entrance ramp, only for Famous to Drop Toe Hold him face first on the steel ramp. Ed stomped away at him before pulling him back to his feet and connecting with a Snap Suplex. Both men writhed in agony before Ed dragged him to the ring and rolled him inside.

Famous finally covered… One…. Two… KICK OUT! Somehow the tough as nails Williams managed to kick out and the match was suddenly afoot again. Both men got back to their feet, Zeek connecting with some clever Muay Tai strikes, running to ropes, leaping off the middle and SPRINGBOARD KNEE!! THE SILENCER!! GOODNIGHT ED FAMOUS! The RIP City Saints covers… One…. Two… Three!! What a victory and what a war of words. These two just tore up Afterburn but it’s Zeek Williams heading to the final eight.

The fans are on their feet and rightfully so as an impressive glass case with a velvet red cloth sits in the middle of the ring. Richard Roman is up from commentary and standing with it, a big grin on his moustached face as he begins to talk.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we hope you’ve been enjoying the show,” he says to a big cheer from the crowd.“Good, good. Tonight, I have been placed in charge of revealing the OSW World Heavyweight Championship. As you by now know there is a tournament comprised of sixteen competitors here tonight and they’re all fighting for the gold underneath this cloth.”

“LET US SEE IT!” clap clap clap. “LET US SEE IT!” clap clap clap.

Rick Walker: “I think he’d better hurry up.”

“Okay, so without further ado-“

Suddenly the hyped up beginning of Lil Wayne’s “Watch My Shoes” interrupts, the legendary rapper spitting game immediately, working the crowd into an immediate stir. Pyrotechnics fire off as Marvellous Master Chef steps out from the back with a skillet in one hand, a middle finger lifted by the other.

Rick Walker: “Uhm…”

He lays the skillet down on the entrance ramp and humps it for a bit, before picking it up and running to the ring. After sliding under the ropes, he stands opposite Roman, who doesn’t quite know what to make of it.

“What can I do for you?” Roman asks, stepping forward with confidence.

SKILLET TO THE SKULL! Where the hell did that come from? Marvellous Master Chef suddenly reacts, whacking poor Roman in the skull with his skillet. He quickly rushes over to the Championship case and whips off the red velvet covering, placing it around his neck as if a cape.

Rick Walker: “I think Roman had better get the hell out of there.”

Suddenly, SKILLET TO THE GLASS CASE! The skillet crashes straight through it, making the Championship readily available and MMC doesn’t even hesitate before yanking the belt out and turning to run.

Rick Walker: “Hold on a second, he can’t do that! Somebody stop him! He’s trying to steal the OSW World Heavyweight Championship!”

The opening riff from “Open Your Eyes” blares throughout the arena, the lights strobe along to the music. Dave steps out from behind the curtain with a microphone, trying to slow this up pretty quickly.

“Cut the music, cut it!” he yells successfully. “Now whoa, hold your horses there cookie,” Dave says with a hand raised. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to steal the OSW World Heavyweight Championship, am I right?”

Rick Walker: “Don’t state the obvious, just stop him!”

Marvellous nods enthusiastically.

“I have to be honest with you, it isn’t the first time I’ve seen it done. I’ll give you an A+ for enthusiasm but a D- for creativity,” Dave says to a crowd chuckle whilst heading down the ramp towards the ring. “So being that we’re both still in the tournament and both still within a shot of winning that thing, I’d ask you to put it back. You see, when I win the tournament and collect my Championship, I don’t want to be picking pieces of burrito off of it for the foreseeable future.”

By now DTR has rolled under the bottom rope and entered the ring. He looks down at Richard Roman who’s holding his head in pain and smirks.

“The seventies called, they want their moustache back,” The Rattlesnake comments to a rapturous ovation of cheers. “Now look Chef, I don’t want to have to take it from you and put it back but if I have to, I’m going to. So how about you save us both the throw down and simply pop it back inside that case and we’ll be on our way.”

The Chef sighs a big puff of air before turning around and facing the case.

“That’s a good-“



Rick Walker: “Jesus Christ! This animal is out of control!”

Master Chef clocks him hard with the belt and before you know it, DTR is spark out on the canvas in dreamland. With the fans booing, The Marvellous One throws the title through the ropes, spreads his arms out in celebration and the finally exits the ring, grabbing the World Championship and making his way backstage.

Rick Walker: “Someone needs to stop him now! He’s stealing the OSW World Title!”

Desmond Cross and Hayden Hardkore locked up straight away in this one, Desmond taking him back to the ropes before sending him across the ring and connecting with a Clothesline on the return. Quickly he pounced back off into the ropes, Hardkore rolling under him as he jumped and popping back up, catching him on the turn with a Hip Toss. The Kiki headed to the ropes, leaping onto the middle andHURRICANRANNA! He covers almost instantly.. One… Two.. Kick Out! Hayden hops back to his feet and heads to the top rope, leaping off and DIVING HEADBUTT !NO-BODY HOME!!

Cross somehow moved out of the way and is back to his feet, grabbing The Kiwi and levelling him with numerous punches before scooping him up and driving him down to the mat with a Powerslam. He covers.. One… Two.. Kick Out! Both men roll away but it’s The Messiah’s Messenger who this time heads up top and when Hayden gets up.. LEAPING CLOTHESLINE! BOOM! He got all of it. Again into the cover.. One… Two… THREE! KICK OUT! “Ohhhh” cheer the fans as Cross nearly had it. Desmond is looking to finish this now and pulls Hardkore up – kick to the gut, F-5! AMAZING GRACE!! NO!! Hayden spins out and drops down behind him.. HIGH ANGLE BACK DROP!!

The Flying Kiwi covers… One…. Two…THR-NO! That’s not going to do it. He begins winding up his left hand to a buzzing “OOOOHHHHH” from the crowd and when Desmond gets back to his feet – POWER OF THE SOUTHPAW! A CRACKING LEFT HAYMAKER THAT COULD’VE BROKE HIS JAW! Cross falls flat on his back and Hayden leaps to the top rope like an agile cat, only to steady himself then leap with a Moonsault turned half barrel roll into a SWANTON BOMB!! THE FLYING KIWI! NOOOO!! DESMOND MOVES! The impact is so severe that Cross pulls him straight to his feet, kick to the gut.. THE REDEEMING!! CRUCIFIX POWERBOMB!! INTO THE COVER… ONE…. TWO…. THREE!! Desmond Cross is going to the final eight!

We’re just moments away from the Main Event when we head backstage to see Ed Famous and Zeek Williams beating the holy hell out of each other. They brawl across the backstage area, bouncing off walls and pillars as they struggle to try and gain the upper hand. Ed finally releases, backing up with a kick to the gut, only to grab Zeek and run him HEAD FIRST INTO A WALL!

Richard Roman: “What a shot!”

Rick Walker: “We need security back there to break this up as soon as possible.”

Williams falls to the floor in a heap and is visibly busted wide open but Ed doesn’t appear to be finished. He stomps away at him before walking off and grabbing himself a steel chair. He places it over Zeek’s throat and takes a seat, lording over him.

“It isn’t that I’m a sore loser, I hope you understand,” Ed says catching his breath. “It’s just that I don’t like you very much, Ezekiel.”

Richard Roman: “You don’t say?”

Rick Walker: “You could tell by their match earlier that this one wasn’t going to be settled so quickly.”


Rick Walker: “ENOUGH, DAMNIT!”

Security suddenly storm across to break it up, dragging Famous away as others attend to poor Williams. One can only imagine that as soon as Zeek is able, there will be hell to pay for this.

Rick Walker: “I’m telling you right now, there’s going to be a match between these two soon and when there is, they’re going to tear the house down.”

Richard Roman: “Good riddance to bad rubbish, is what I say.”

The bell sounds and the instantaneous brawl begins, all eight of these tired stars getting into the mix as quickly as possible. Mike Lane and John Pathlow end up on the outside whilst Lord Richard Merriweather rushes off to hide by the announce tables. The Black Knight and Waldo The Clown meet in the middle of the ring to slug it out and Hayden Hardkore takes is to Matthew Cories as Ed Famous gets himself a steel chair. The One Man Rebellion enters the ring, swinging the chair for the back of Cories, then for the head of Hayden, taking both men to the canvas. He pops down into the cover… One… Two… Cories kicks out.

Our first Champion was nearly crowned right there but on the outside, John Pathlow has been rattled into the steel steps – sending both them and he flying. Mike Lane is the man with a plan and is of course looking to send a direct message to the American Capitalists here tonight. He goes under the ring and reaches for a table, setting that bad boy up on the outside before Waldo The Clown comes over to interfere. Waldo slams his head off the table and drags him back to the barricade, slamming him back first into that as well. The Black Knight on the other hand is back to his feet in the ring and storms across the ring, launching himself to the outside and LANDING STRAIGHT ONTOP OF WALDO AND LANE!

“Holy Shit!” chants break out as all three men lay crumpled on the floor. It’s then that Lord Merriweather shows up out of no-where, diving into the cover on Waldo.. One… Two… THREE!! We have our first Hardcore Champion! The fan’s can’t believe it and boo’s echo out around the arena as Merriweather takes a hike and storms off up the entrance ramp. Ed Famous meanwhile spots him and is quickly in pursuit, accompanied by John Pathlow. Only the Champion can be pinned for the belt to change hands and that makes Merriweather a marked man with ten minutes left on the clock.

The brawl is now backstage and that’s where both Stephen and Edward wait for their boss and open a limousine door for him to hop inside. They quickly turn around to tend to Famous and Pathlow who in turn, immediately start brawling with the security team. The limousine is about to speed off when Hayden Hardkore appears in front of it with a lead pipe – causing it to come to a crashing halt. Hayden starts beating the holy shit out of the limo with his pipe and that’s when Merriweather escapes, running into a giant JUMPING REVERSE ROCK BOTTOM! RIGHT ON THE CONCRETE FLOOR! THE BLACKOUT!! The Black Knight nails him and now he’s into the cover.. One…. Two… THREE! A second Hardcore Champion with only five minutes left on the clock. Marcus grabs his Championship and rushes back towards the ring, hoping to escape the melee of brawling happening backstage.

When he arrives there, he rushes through the curtain only to walk into Waldo The Clown and RED MIST!!The Knight stumbles backwards holding his eyes, giving Waldo the chance to SNATCH HIS TITLE AND CRACK HIM IN THE SKULL WITH IT! WHAT A SHOT!! Waldo drops into the cover… One… Two… THREE!!We’ve a new Hardcore Champion! There’s about three minutes left and The Clown struts back to the ring, dancing along the way as the fans boo, clearly not impressed. It’s then that Hayden Hardkore comes barrelling out from behind the curtain with his led pipe, CRASHING IT OVER WALDO’S HEAD! The fans roar and we’re about to have our fourth Hardcore Champion… One… Two… Three! Hayden takes the Championship belt and runs back to the ring, sliding in and immediately looking to protect himself.

What he doesn’t realize is that from behind comes Mike Lane with a steel chair. Hayden spins to catch him, receiving the steel chair thrown at him for his troubles – to which he catches.. SHADOWKICK!! SHADOWKICK TO THE STEEL AND TO THE FACE OF HAYDEN FOR HIS TROUBLES!! Lane drops into the cover as the final fifteen seconds appear on the clock. One…. Two…. Three! We’ve a new Hardcore Champion and surely that’s it, surely. Lane barely has a chance to get back to his feet though before Matthew Cories rushes him with a LEAPING INVERTED STO!! CHUMBAWAMBA!! HE NAILED IT! HE HAS FOUR SECONDS TO COVER AND DOES… ONE… TWO… THREE! THE BELL SOUNDS ONE SECOND LATER AND MATTHEW CORIES IS OUR NEW HARDCORE CHAMPION!

Matthew Cories is back to his feet holding the Hardcore Championship high into the air, clearly pleased with what is a phenomenal victory here tonight – one that he damn near stole after staying ringside for a majority of the match. The fans though are on their feet with applause until suddenly, the arena goes dark.

Rick Walker: “What the hell is going on?”

Richard Roman: “I can’t see a thing, can you?”

The arena is suddenly thrust into darkness as the sounds of squawking crows can be heard. They flutter away and the lights turn back on, revealing the Scarecrow standing in the middle of the ring, his arms spread and his head lowered.

Rick Walker: “Holy shit! What the hell is that?”

Richard Roman: “That’s the thing nightmares are made of!!”

Matthew doesn’t even spot him at first, turning around to see Scarecrow stood behind him, his head lowered. He almost falls down at first but before you know it and quite literally out of no-where, Scarecrow snaps his arm out and hand around the throat of Cories, lifting him high into the air andCHOKESLAM!! THE HARVESTER!!


Richard Roman: “Why!? What’s going on here?”

Cories crashes into the canvas with an enormous thud and stays there as Scarecrow spreads his arms again and the lights go off. When they return, he’s no-where to be seen and the crowd have no idea what to make of it.

It’s then that we fade to black.