The video starts inside an empty arena. The ring and WWATron are setup, but there is not a single fan in the stands. Gary Trudeau appears at the entrance and begins to walk down the aisle, towards the ring. While he does, we hear his recorded voice, echoing over the PA system.

Trudeau: Your winner and NEEEEW WWA Champion...

As he lists off names, clips of the wrestlers flash by.

Trudeau: ...Randy Cross...Nik Segier...The Outlaw...

Cross locks on a figure four. Segier struts in the ring. Outlaw clotheslines a victim.

Trudeau: ...Denrol...Mantis...Jim Black...

Denrol waves the Canadian flag. The masked Mantis flies through the air with a headbutt. Black holds up "Stick".

Trudeau: ...Tracer Bullet...Shaman...TJ Donaldson...

Bullet drops someone with the Big Easy. Shaman stands on top of the Himalayan Pit. Donaldson runs down the aisle, slapping the hands of fans.

Trudeau: ...Vik Ventressa...Jackson Kraven...Craven Moore...

Ventressa hits the Ventressicator DDT. Kraven stands at the entranceway. Moore delivers a Box Office Smash.

Trudeau: ...Ian Tense...Kash...Damian Thorne...

Tense pounds someone in the corner with fists. Kash nails a victim with the Canadian Hammer. Thorne rises to the ceiling.

Trudeau: ...Mal Somers...Dave Harley...Armaan...

Somers holds up Rookie. Harley sends someone through a table with the Harley-Bomb. Armaan stands in a crowd of fans.

Trudeau: ...Kade Williams...Eddie van Dorn...Ry Ballard...

Williams stands in the middle of the Ultimate Glory cage. EVD delivers a dropkick in the corner. Ballard walks down a street in the town of Proof.

Trudeau: ...Jaymz Watkins...Lucas Black...Nick Adams...Jack Griffiths...

Watkins hits the Killdozer. Black stands over a fallen victim. Adams goes for the Rainfall. Griffiths signs an autograph for a fan.

Trudeau: ...and RJ STOOOOOOOOONE!

Stone stands square in the center of the ring, holding the championship belt above his head. The clips ends and Trudeau is standing the center of the ring. He brings the microphone up and speaks.

Trudeau: Ladies and gentlemen...

The camera zooms in tight to his face.

Trudeau: Welcome to UNDERGROUND!

The camera pulls back, reveling the packed Keystone Centre, where the fans are on their feet, chanting loudly.

Crowd: W-W-A! W-W-A! W-W-A!

"Another Brick in the Wall, Part II" plays as Eddie van Dorn makes his way to the ring, microphone in hand.

Jack: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Underground. We are kicking things right off with some in-ring action.
Denrol: That's the way I like it.
Jack: Eddie van Dorn suffered a loss in his first match back last week.
Denrol: Ring rust can be a brutal thing. He did show flashes of the ability he had before his injury, but it just didn't seem to be enough.
Jack: I'm sure he's disappointed and will be looking to make up for it this week against Greg Segier.
Denrol: Hah! Fat chance. If he can't get past Jevon White, Greg's going to mop the floor with him.

Eddie makes it to the ring and rolls in under the bottom rope.

Jack: Aren't you guys a little on the outs right now?
Denrol: Lies and slander. People will make a big deal out of anything hoping to derail the unstoppable freight train that is Greg Segier.

Standing up, EVD brings the microphone to within speaking distance.

EVD: I know what happens when one does this, but I'm going to assume something right now. Denrol, if you could just stop singing Greg's praises for a few minutes, I have some things to take care of that will require people hearing me over your loud mouth.

Jack: He's sure got you pinned down.
Denrol: And Greg will have him pinned down, too.

Eddie rubs his hand across his eyes, looking exhausted.

EVD: Now, I don't want to take up too much of your time this week. I know I have a match with Segier right about now, but there is another important matter that needs my attention. I've always been the type to want to kill two birds with one stone, so let's get this out of the way before the match starts.

He points to the video screen.

EVD: Now the plan was, everyone was supposed to see a clip from the 2008... or 2009, depending on your viewpoint... Birthday Bash. It's not a pleasant memory for me, but I was thinking lately that we might have some new fans who may not have seen it and don't have internet smark friends to clue them in. Suffice to say, for now, that there was an... incident involving Copeland, myself, a chain and the WWATron that caused me a severe neck injury that took me a year and a half to recover from and then another few months to pretend I hadn't. For someone to so carelessly rob a person of their livelihood for so long... especially when that person is ME... is unforgivable. So if any of you were wondering why all of my dealings with Copeland are so vitriolic, now you know. More importantly, I know a way to cow him.

At these words, he waves his hand in front of his face, miming the presence of a mask.

EVD: And if he thinks knotting his hair around it is any way to prevent me from taking it again...

Eddie reaches into his pocket and produces a pair of scissors.

EVD: He really does have another thing coming.

Suddenly “Destroy Everything” by Hatebreed thunders menacingly across the arena as Copeland slowly walks out onto the ramp, wearing his hunting jacket with the hood still pulled over his head. He is followed closely behind by the mysterious man in grey, who is holding a microphone. The fans greet both men the only way they know how: with uproarious boos of united searing hatred.

Jack: Well, here is Copeland and the man who blinded EVD last week, allowing Copeland to regain his mask after Eddie tried, and almost succeeded in, humiliating the silent machine in front of the world.

Copeland stares Eddie down without moving a muscle, and Eddie angrily stares back at him from the ring. The man in grey walks past Copeland and stands in front of the emotionless predator. The crowd continues to boo until the man in grey raises the mic to his mouth and the fans quiet down, obviously wanting to hear his first words.

Man in Grey: Hello there, Eddie. Allow me to introduce myself...

EVD: Your name is Humpty, prounounced with an Umpty?

Hey, remember the early '90s? The laughing members of the audience do.

Man in Grey: We're not in the mood for jokes. My name is Gabriel Roth and I am the one you all have been referring to as “The Voice.”

The crowd erupt in boos again as the Voice is finally revealed officially. EVD takes a few steps forward and leans on the ropes. The anger he feels is clearly etched on his face.

Jack: So he is real... and his name is Gabriel Roth, but who is he exactly?
Denrol: So Copeland isn't quite as nutty as we all thought.

Roth: But who I am is a question to be answered another time. However, why I am here can be answered and the answer is quite simple... I am here to guide my machine.

Eddie, looking somewhat confused, raises the mic to his lips, still leaning on the ropes.

EVD: So what you're telling me is that you're the guy who's been talking to Copeland this whole time.

Roth: You're quick. It makes one wonder why you failed in school.

EVD: Dropped out. Not the point. If this is true, then it's time for you to stop talking and start listening. No matter what kind of strategy you devise, no matter how much bigger or stronger your puppet is than I am, nothing is going to prevent me from breaking him down, piece by piece, in every way imaginable.

Roth: I'm sure Copeland would love the attempt on your part, and I'm sure everyone watching would much rather see you get destroyed than whatever snoozefest you're going to put on once that bell rings.

EVD: You know what?

The Extreme Revolutionary drops to the mat and slides to the floor.

EVD: I'm inclined to agree.

He drops the microphone and begins stalking up the ramp. At the same time, Roth motions Copeland toward him. The two are quickly approaching each other when...

Voice: That will be quite enough.

Denrol: Oh, not another voice from nowhere.
Jack: Quiet. You know who this is.

Rachel Beckett steps out behind Gabriel Roth, flanked by a few security guards. Eddie and Copeland, distracted by the sudden interruption, stop a few feet from each other, still staring wildly at each other.

Beckett: I'm going to put a stop to this in the best way I know how. If you two want to tear each other up so badly, I say go for it. But not here, and not at some indeterminate point in the locker room. There's this little thing called "protocol" that you both seem to be ignoring, and I'm not going to stand for it any longer. I'm making a match between the two of you to take place at Meltdown.

The crowd cheers. Eddie smiles that crooked, off-putting smile of his while Copeland stares at him blankly, chest heaving with rage.

Beckett: But not just any match. The way you two have been acting, that would either not solve anything or break down into a double disqualification at first opportunity. We'll have to come up with something a little more...final.

The crowd murmurs. Suddenly, Roth's eyes light up with sadistic glee.

Roth: If I may...

Beckett: You have a suggestion?

Roth: Yes, Ms. Beckett, I do. In fact, I have a match that will even test the self-proclaimed “Extreme Revolutionary.” A match devised by me, for Copeland, in which both of these men will feel pain like they have never felt before, dealt by each other’s hands.

The crowd murmurs again.

Roth: You people may have heard of, or maybe even seen, a Japanese Deathmatch. The concept of a sanctioned match so barbaric that it is illegal in most countries... a match where anything is legal, anything can be used to inflict unimaginable amounts of damage and pain, where nothing is off limits.

Eddie unlocks his gaze from Copeland and looks past him, up the ramp at the sadistically gleeful Gabriel Roth.

Roth: But what I am talking about here is my own version, what I like to call a “Razorback Deathmatch.” This match is not for the faint of heart. If you accept this match, Eddie, you will get your shot at revenge on Copeland, but I promise you that there will be blood... lots of blood, and you will never be the same again.

Jack: This sounds... absolutely horrible.
Denrol: You're still going to have to call the match...like it or not. Just bring some Pepto Bismol, I'm sure you'll be fine.

Roth looks down the ramp toward Eddie.

Roth: Unless, of course, you're afraid of getting hurt again.

Eddie backs down the ramp, never taking his eyes off Copeland, and picks up the microphone he dropped earlier.

EVD: You're on.

The crowd cheers. Beckett turns to leave, but then seems to remember something, raising a finger in an almost Columbo-like fashion.

Beckett: Oh, just one more thing. I expect both of you to be in top form by the time that match rolls around. That said, if there are any more physical altercations between now and then, I'm calling the whole thing off. So if you truly want this to happen, I suggest you stay away from each other. Let the hate build if you must, just release it at the proper time.

With these parting words, Beckett and her security team turn and leave. Roth, Copeland, and Eddie all look equally pissed. Copeland backs up the ramp and rejoins Roth as EVD stares them down from his position on the ramp.

Jack: Rachel Beckett laying down the law here tonight.
Denrol: And none of those three guys look happy about it in the slightest.
Jack: Razorback Deathmatch at Meltdown, Eddie van Dorn vs. Copeland.
Denrol: And tonight, Eddie van Dorn vs. Gregory Segier.
Jack: Yes, that will be happening presently.

Jack: Our third match is up next, Eddie Van Dorn versus Greg Segier. Who are you rooting for, Denrol?
Denrol: I don’t root for anybody, I’m a journalist. I’m unbiased.
Jack: Ha!

The house lights dim and “Another Brick in the Wall [Part 2]” by Pink Floyd. Some of the more musically knowledgeable fans hold their lighters in the air as another flicker of light appears as the top of the ramp, lighting up a deviously grinning Eddie Van Dorn.

Jack: There’s EVD, looking mighty confident.
Denrol: That he does.
Jack: That’s all you got to say?
Denrol: Journalist, remember?

Eddie walks to the ring, the fans cheering as his apropos entrance theme continues to play. He climbs the steps onto the apron, and climbs through the ropes. He stalks around the ring then hops up on the turnbuckle. He raises his eyes to the ceiling and his arms to the sky, the very picture of Generation X.

Trudeau: First to the ring, weighing in at  181 pounds, EDDIE…VAN…DOOOOOORRRRN!

The fans pop as Eddie hops down off the turnbuckle and sits in the corner. That is when “Head in a Hole” by NiN begins to play over the speakers. Boos rain down on Greg Segier as he emerges.

Trudeau: Hailing from St. Pauls, Minnesota, weighing in at 232 pounds…

Bow down before the one you serve!
You’re going to get what you deserve!

Trudeau: He is the Second Generation…GREEEGGG…SEGIIIEEERRRR!

Walking to the ring with a “I don’t care” attitude, he ignores every jibe and comment by fans nearby.

Denrol: There he is! The man of the hour! Get him Greg!
Jack: I thought you were being unbiased?
Denrol: Hey Jack, gullible is written on the ceiling.
Jack: I’m not falling for that one this time.

Greg casually walks up the steps and climbs through the ropes. Eddie by now has gotten to his feet, staring Greg in the eyes. Greg walks towards him as EVD steps forward to meet him. In the center of the ring they both glare at each other, almost nose to nose.

Jack: This is one is about to begin very soon by the looks of it.
Denrol: Let’s face it, we all know the outcome by now. What’s the point in wasting our time?
Jack: EVD has been training hard all work. You can’t count him out.

Both men are talking trash to each other, letting their gums flap. It’s Segier who strikes first, heaving Eddie backwards with a huge shove. The ref rings the bell to start the match, right when Eddie catches himself. As he turns back to Greg, he’s caught with a stiff punch that knocks him into the corner. Greg continues towards him and takes a boot to his gut, but he shakes it off and launches another stiff punch. Eddie holds his jaw in pain as Segier grabs his other arm and whips him into the opposite corner. Greg follows him across, looking for a heavy clothesline, but EVD ducks out of the way at the last minute. Segier crashes into the turnbuckle chest first, and as he turns around, EVD greets him with his own flurry of open palm strikes.

Jack: EVD on the attack, pushing Segier towards the ropes with those punches.
Denrol: Palm strikes are illegal aren’t they?
Jack: No, closed fists are.
Denrol: They should be.

Segier gets backed into the corner, taking repeated strikes. Eddie goes to kick Greg in the abdomen but Segier catches his leg with a cocky grin. He walks Eddie into the middle of the ring, wagging his finger like he’s scolding a child. But he is surprised when Eddie jumps and kicks him in the side of the head with an audible thud.

Jack: Oh my, what an enziguiri!

EVD pops to his feet and throws his fists into the air, getting a giant pop from the fans. As Segier gets to his knees, EVD runs and bounces off the ropes, then front dropkicks Greg dead in the chest. Van Dorn is smiling as he picks Greg by his head and dead center in the ring, grips up Segier and hits him will a belly to belly side suplex. He then bounces off the ropes and tries to hit and jumping knee onto Segier’s head, but he rolls out of the way and continues to roll out of the ring. The fans boo.

Denrol: ‘Atta boy, slow it down a little.
Jack: The fans don’t like it very much. They’re letting him hear it.
Denrol: Go ask Greg if he cares.
Jack: I’m sure he does.

Eddie is in the ring laughing as Segier shakes off the cobwebs. The ref is telling him to get back into the ring, and when Segier doesn’t immediately comply, begins to count him out. But EVD gets impatient and slides out of the ring. Segier is ready for him though and kicks him in the gut. He grabs EVD and throws him shoulder first into the ring steps.

One!

Two!

Three!

Four!

Segier grabs EVD and lifts him to his feet, then drives his head into the guard rail. EVD is on shaky legs. Segier leads him into the ring and rolls him into the ring. Segier doesn’t immediately follow, but climbs onto the ring apron. When EVD gets to his feet, he turns around, takes a punch, then gets guillotined on the ropes as Segier grabs his head as he drops to the floor.

Denrol: Now that Greg is in control of the match, it’s over now.

Segier climbs into the ring and begins to relentlessly drive his knees into the right leg of EVD who is still catching his breath from the ropes cutting into his neck. Greg drops his knees into the leg of Eddie maybe seven times before he relents. He takes a little stroll around the ring, drawing the ire of the fans. EVD slowly staggers to his feet, holding his back. Segier approaches him, kicks him in the stomach and hits a DDT. Segier doesn’t relent for long though, as he pulls EVD to his feet. With his technical skill, Segier nails Van Dorn with a textbook snap suplex. Immediately he jumps and flips Eddie onto his stomach, applying a single leg boston crab on the hurt leg.

Jack: Greg Segier softened Eddies leg up with those knees and he now has him in a sticky position. That boston crab has to hurt.
Denrol: Segier is picking Van Dorn apart.
Jack: But the fans are getting into a frenzy cheering EVD on!

Even though you can clearly see the pain in EVD’s eyes, he hears the fans cheers and begins to struggle against Segier. Segier lets Eddie go because he didn’t have much of a grip. However, Segier puts boots into Eddie’s leg, then hits one more knee. Eddie starts to crawl towards the ropes. When he gets there, he grabs onto the bottom one, then uses the middle one to pull himself up. But before he fully gets to his feet, Segier grabs both of his legs and gives a great yank. EVD is forced to let go, and as he falls, Segier slams Van Dorn’s knee into the mat. He writhes in pain as Segier tries to apply a figure four, but EVD uses all of his strength to push Greg away.

Jack: Greg was looking for the Segier Twist, but EVD pushed him away.
Denrol: That would’ve been the end if he got it.
Jack: Certainly things wouldn’t have looked good for Eddie, but right now- OHH! Eddie quickly scurried up the ropes and hit a nice missile dropkick!

The fans go wild as EVD has a surge of energy, but he is favoring that leg. Segier stands up and is met by a forearm to his face, then one more. EVD turns and bounces off the ropes, leaping and hitting a spinning back elbow, knocking Segier off his feet. Van Dorn is feeding off the frenzied crowd. As Segier lies on the mat, Eddie looks towards the turnbuckle. He heads over to it and starts to climb.

Jack: Van Dorn going to the top rope!
Denrol: Segier will move….move Greg!

Before EVD can get to the top rope though, Segier heads to the turnbuckle and starts throwing haymakers, stunning Eddie. Greg hit’s a few before climbing to the middle rope. Eddie is throwing punches of his own. Both men are jockeying for position. But while the ref can’t see what Greg is doing, he rakes the eyes of Van Dorn. The fans boo the cheater as Greg Segier nails a giant top rope suplex.

Jack: What a cheater! He raked Eddie’s eyes!
Denrol: He what? I didn’t see that happen, and neither did the ref.
Jack: Eddie is in the ring damn near broken in half because Segier cheated.
Denrol: Sucks for Eddie.

Segier takes advantage of the situation by applying the Segier Twist. The only thing is, the impact of the suplex bounced Eddie’s body enough that he is not too far away from the ropes. The painful move is only applied for a few seconds before Eddie pulls himself just far enough to grab the ropes. Segier is pissed as the ref pulls him off, pointing to EVD hanging onto the ropes. Greg backs the ref into the corner, yelling at him.

Denrol: That is total bull! Eddie tapped out!
Jack: Not true at all.
Denrol: I saw it with my own eyes!

Greg shakes his head with disgust as he turns away from the ref, just in time to be met by another drop kick from EVD. Eddie picks Segier up to his feet and holds onto his arm as he climbs up the turnbuckles, tight ropes across the ropes, then hits one more drop kick from the ropes. The fans pop loudly as Eddie flips Segier over and applies Detention.

Denrol: Come on Greg, get him off you!
Jack: I can tell when you want something badly because your voice gets higher.
Denrol: Shut up, Jack.

Segier is struggling in the move, his face slowly starting to turn red. But Segier in his desperation throws his head back, head butting EVD in his face. Van Dorn is almost forced to let go. Luckily his nose isn’t broken, but Segier scrambles away from his grasp. Segier coughs in the corner, catching his breath. He barely even sees Eddie run towards him, springboard off the ropes and hit a beautiful hurricanrana.

Jack: Greg doesn’t look to be in a good position.
Denrol: It’s not over Jack, Segier has plenty of time.

Eddie goes over to Segier and goes for a pin fall.

One!

Two!

Kickout! Eddie curses under his breath, as he pulls Segier to his feet. He palm strikes him hard in the face twice, then irish whips him into the ropes. But Eddie can’t do much as Segier leaps off his feet and nails a forearm smash.

Denrol: That hurricanrana wasn’t effective as you though, eh Jack?

Segier looks to have a new focus as he picks up Eddie and hit’s a Russian legsweep. He pops to his feet, grabs EVD’s leg and drops an elbow to the side. Eddie lets out a cry as Segier pops up and nails another. When Segier gets to his feet again, Eddie rips his leg away from Greg and jumps to his feet. But again his leg is clearly bothering him. Segier sees this and charges at him, but at the last second EVD bends over and flips Greg up and over the ropes, sending him crashing to the floor.

Jack: That had to hurt! Greg hit the floor hard!
Denrol: I can’t watch this match, my blood pressure is through the roof.
Jack: That’s because of your diet.
Denrol: Was that supposed to be funny?

Eddie watches Segier struggle to his feet, then gets a crazy idea. He points to the corner. The fans go nuts. He ascends to the top rope, waiting for Greg to get to his feet. When he finally does, Eddie leaps off, landing on top of Segier. The fans start chanting Eddie’s name after that awesome move.

Crowd: E-V-D! E-V-D! E-V-D-!

Eddie rises and brings Segier up with him. He rolls him into the ring, follows him in, then picks Segier up to his feet. In a swift motion, EVD nails a double arm DDT. Segier’s head bounces off the mat. Eddie covers Segier as the ref drops to count.

One!

Two!

Thr-

Denrol: Yes! Segier managed to kick out before that outcast Eddie stole this match.
Jack: That certainly was close. Eddie doesn’t agree with it.

Eddie has a few words with the ref before turning to Segier. He tries to pick him up, but using Van Dorn’s own body as a screen, Greg pokes Eddie in the eyes.

Jack: He cheated again!
Denrol: Yeah, c’mon ref.
Jack: Oh give me a break.
Denrol: This is a travesty, Jack. I can’t believe it.

Eddie backs away in pain. He can’t stop Segier lifting him up and hitting the Evil Killer seemingly out of nowhere.

Jack: This may be over because of that cheat!
Denrol: So unfair.

The fans are rabid as Greg hooks Van Dorn’s leg.

One!

Two!

Jack: Kickout at two! There is still fight in that Eddie Van Dorn!
Denrol: I gotta say I’m surprised at that one. I thought he was less weak willed.

Segier is surprised he kicked out himself. Even more surprisingly, is that Eddie is actually starting to get to his feet. Greg goes up to him and nails a few forearms to Eddie’s face, but Eddie throws strikes of his own. The two men are in the middle of the ring, exchanging blows, with the fans cheering loudly for EVD. It’s Segier who gets the upper hand. He backs EVD into the corner. He cocks back, looking for a giant clothesline, but EVD ducks underneath him and throws him into the corner upside down in a Tree of Woe.

Jack: How did Eddie do that? Man, that parkour must really be paying off!

Eddie sprints into the middle of the ring and turns around quickly before Greg can react to what’s happening. Eddies leaps at hims and nails a vicious, VICIOUS spear.

Denrol: No!
Jack: The Dropout!

All of the fans are on their feet in a frenzy. Eddie is smart enough to pull Greg away from the corner and hooks his leg in a pin.

One!

Two!

Three!

Ding, Ding!

Jack: Eddie defeated Greg Segier!
Denrol: I can’t believe this at all. How did this happen?

Trudeau: Your winner of the match…EDDIE..VAN..DORN!

Denrol: I am just shocked.
Jack: I know you are Denrol, but give it to Eddie because he pulled this one off fair and square.
Denrol: I wish that I could be as lucky as him.

Jack: And now for something completely different.
Denrol: Is it time for the video?
Jack: Yep.
Denrol: Fine.
Jack: To make a long story short, the WWA received a video from Bruce Pepin that he has asked to be played here tonight. After reviewing it,
Ms. Beckett has received the go-ahead from Mr. Babb, so here it is.

We cut to an extreme close-up of Bruce Pepin's smiling face. Slowly the smile fades, as Pepin winks and puts a finger up to his mouth, making a loud shhh noise. A song starts up, as the camera pans back to see Pepin standing in front of an enormous Canadian flag, stretching almost the length of a city block.

You always were there,
Always beside me.
Holding my hand every step of the way.
Through these eyes, you could do no wrong.
In these eyes, you were brave and strong.
In my heart, those days live on.

The camera cuts to a scene of Pepin in an orphanage, pouring soup for the young victims of misfortune. A little girl runs up and hugs Pepin tightly around the leg, causing him to gently pat her head and look back at the camera, flashing his trademarked smile.

You were my hero.
Hero!
You were my hero.
Whoa, whoa!
Yeah.

Pepin appears the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto, shaking hands with Wayne Gretzky. The two men stop to take photos, after which time Gretzky asks Pepin to autograph his Canadian flag. Pepin does, again looking directly into the camera afterwards and smiling.

What does it take to be a hero?
What does it take to be a man?
I'm lookin' down into my young boy's eyes.
As I feel his love, oh I realize,
The joy you passed along,
All day long.

We cut to Pepin, outside with his shirt off, chopping down a tree that falls partway into water. After it falls, he walks along it and dives headfirst off, as the camera pans to a wide shot and shows Pepin diving over Niagara Falls. A second later, we cut to Pepin emerging from the bottom, walking out of the water and into a crowd of screaming ladies. They hand him a towel and he dries off, smiling as two ladies plant kisses on both sides of his cheeks.

I'll be your hero.
I'll be your hero.
I'll be your hero.
Oh, whoa.

Pepin stands in front of the Centre Block of Her Majesty's Government on Parliament Hill in Ottawa. He shakes his head no, with a smile, as the camera reviews a massive crowd of Canadians holding up signs urging him to run against Stephen Harper, Canada's Prime Minister.

Feeling is everywhere.
It's all around us.
It lives inside the hearts of you and me.
Now it's our time to keep our country strong.
Can see that no man's son will walk alone.
Oh just take my hand.
Come on, take my hand.

At a Canadian Army base, Pepin walks into a crowded room as the soldier's burst out in applause. Pepin bows to them, a huge smile on his face, as they all salute the "Canadian Crusader."

I'll be your hero.
I'll be your hero.
I'll be your hero.
Oh, whoa.

We cut to the Hart House in Calgary. Pepin hands over a check to a real estate agent and smiles wide. The camera transposes to the Dungeon, where Pepin works over two young wrestlers at the same time, causing them to tap out as he beams with pride, looking over towards a photo of Bret and Stu on the wall.

There's no greater pleasure,
Nothing greater to do.
Just feelin' your love can feel fear out of you.
I wanna be a,
I wanna be a hero.

Surrounded by Inuk's in Nunavut, Pepin eyes a target. Slowly, methodically, he advances towards his adversary - a polar bear. As Pepin is within striking distance, the polar bear lays down and slaps his paw on the ice, surrendering. The Inuk's jump up and down, applauding.

I'll be your hero.
I'll be your hero.
I'll be your hero.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Yeah.

Back in Toronto, we see Pepin on a date with a girl with multi-colored hair. They are at Colborne Lane, a romantic restaurant. Through the window, we see a slacker looking down as tears pour down his face.
Another man reaches over and hugs him. We cut back to Pepin, who pulls out a piece of paper and crosses off the name "S. Pilgrim". He then smiles and kisses the girls neck as she giggles.

I'll be your hero.
I'll be your hero.
I wanna be your hero.
Hero!
Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Yeah.

With mountains standing high in the background, Pepin swims laps across the world-famous Moraine Lake, known for its unique shade of blue. He quickly turns and heads back the other way, spitting water out of his mouth and then smiling. We see a family of moose watching his every move, with two elk joining them.

I'll be your hero.
I wanna be your hero.
Hero!

He walks down rue Sainte-Cathrine, eating a Montreal smoked meat sandwich and a large plate of poutine. Behind him is a parade of followers, throwing streamers into the air and blowing horns. Pepin looks at the camera, gives an innocent smile and does the universal sign for "I don't know," before giving a hearty laugh.

I'll be your hero!
Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Inside the MTS Centre in Winnipeg, Alanis Morrissette stands angrily on stage as the crowd focuses towards the back of the arena, surrounding Pepin as he quickly signs autographs. Pepin looks at Morrissette, smiles and winks, causing her to fall to her knees with a dreamy look on her face.

I'll be your hero.
Hero!

The camera shows Pepin again, standing with a Canadian flag and a Quebec flag drapped over his shoulders, with people wearing jersey's of all the Canadian NHL teams standing behind him cheering. A graphic appears over top of the picture reading...

CANADIAN BORN.

CANADIAN BRED.

CANADIAN HERO.

CANADIAN CRUSADER.

The music stops and the entire crowd yells out.

Crowd: BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Pepin: That's me!

A little girl walks forward, from off camera.

Girl: Mister Pepin, thank you for being my hero. I love you very much.

The crowd awwws.

Pepin: NO, little girl. Thank you for believing in me!

The camera rapidly zooms in on his face again, his huge smile filing the lens. We cut back to the announcers.

Jack: We're never going to get that part of our lives back. Three minutes, wasted.
Denrol: God dammit. That was... that was. That piece of shit!
Jack: What?

Denrol stands up and takes off his headset.

Jack: Where you going?

Denrol leaves the table.

We cut into a backstage locker room in the Keystone Centre where WWA Superstar, Jevon Alexander White. Jevon is wearing street, non wrestling attire and Oakley sunglasses, stepping into view holding a microphone is WWA reporter Wallace Coleman.

Coleman:  Wallace Coleman reporting for  Underground's live webcast from right here backstage in the Keystone Centre. I'm standing along side WWA wrestler Jevon White who has the night off tonight. Jevon, why are you here following what happened last week when Bruce Pepin accepted but counter challenged you to a match at Meltdown where if you lose that you must move you and your family from U.S.A to Canada.  Before that he unloaded some very brutal comments right back at you. How are you holding up and will you be ready  for your match against Pepin at Meltdown?

White: Why am I here Coleman? Maybe I'm here to see if Canada really is the right fit for Jevon Alexander White. Or maybe just maybe moving here to Canada is right for not only me but for my family. I love my country. I love America, but I feel like would they miss me if I left? Or would Canada mold my destiny where the U.S. of A could never. I call Canada the Country of Champions. That's what I want, but America is the land of the free and the place where I was born. Damn, such a conundrum. Where do I go from here.

White looks directly into the camera, staring intently.

White: In this business, you gotta be bullet proof. People are gonna talk trash to you. You can't let it sink in, but every now and again something breaks through the armor and penitrates like a bullet. And it festers and digs deep. Last week, Pepin hit me and part of me doesn't wanna believe that he could be right. But there's also a part of me that feels like he is. I've had to look at myself in the mirror and search inside myself. Am I a failure?

White inches closer.

White: As much as he countered challenged me and blasted me back to stone age, I have remind myself -- he did accept my challenge, as I figured he would. I even said that I would fight him on his home turf in Quebec City. I allowed Bruce Pepin to stack the odds against me so that when I walk into the Colisée Pepsi, with the entire crowd on Pepin's side,  I'll make them and the rest of the WWA locker room do a complete 180 and see that I won't quit, that I won't back down, that Pepin is in for a world of hurt.c

White smiles.

White: Cheering me, then I know that I will be on the path towards my destiny. But right now I have a 1000 foot wall in front of me and his name is Bruce Pepin. Listen up, Humpty Dumpty, I've got a Bionic Kick with your name on it and I'm gonna knock your ass right off of the top of that wall and send it crashing to the...

All of a sudden, a familar voice interrupts Jevon from completing that last sentence.

Voice: Do you really really believe that Jevon, do you?

Suddenly, Gorden "Denrol" Korth comes into view of Jevon White, Wallace Coleman and the camera. Coleman moves into position to pick up what Denrol has to say.

Denrol: Or how much of that are you just fooling yourself with?

White: So, finally crawled out from behind the commentary table just for lil ol me huh. I'm touched. By the way, nice hair cut. It is finally starting to grow back. I've got some money down saying that you'll have it back to your old length by...mmm, lets say Rage In The Cage...

Denrol: Nice try Jevon, but lets face it, Our match showed one thing and that is you are not in my league. I pinned you, but then you cut my hair when I tried to add insult to injury. Guess what: you still lost. Besides, it seems like you've got more important things to worry about than trying to get a match against me. If I were you, I'd focus right on Pepin and I'm gonna help you get ready.

White: Removing his sunglasses and looking Denrol right in the eye. Help, I don't want your help. I don't need your help. I can beat Pepin without anybody in my corner.

Denrol: Listen up, jackass. I'm not doing this for you. I'm don't this because quite frankly I don't want you anywhere in my country. This is my land and those are my people. The crowd roars See? Its bad enough enough that your here tonight and that your gonna be in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan next week. It's really, really bad that you are gonna be there and lose to Bruce Pepin  at Meltdown. So get this, I don't want you here in as you called it, the "Country of Champions" because you are not a champion and if you lose it opens the door to more losers like you.

Denrol is almost nose-to-nose with White.

Denrol: So I'm going to help you win against Bruce Pepin so that you can't pollute my country with your loser filth, and if I have to drag your ass across that finish line, you will beat Pepin. I'm gonna help you think like a French-Canadian so that you can have a chance to beat him.

White: First off, I don't need your help in dragging across the finish line or helping me pin Pepin. You wanna  help me train on how to beat him, that's fine. I can't stop ya, but trust me when I say this: I can win or lose without you. If you get involved in anyway, just so I won't live in your country, I'll kick your head right off your shoulderblades and into the first row of the audience. I go where winds lead me. I will do whatever it takes to win but if I lose I will roll and go with the flow and we can go watch the Maple Leafs together, as countrymen; as brothers.

Denrol: God I hate you...You're lucky I hate the idea of you being a Canadian more.

Denrol and Jevon shake hands tightly with a firm grip as the scene fades out.

Jack: Before we get to the Drabble Vs Mr. Mystery match, let us show you an interview that occured earlier this evening.

We cut to the backstage area of the arena where we find WWA wrestler Joshua Curtis backstage grabbing a cup of java when Wallace Coleman spots him. The two exchange pleasantries as Joshua leans up against the table and begins talking to the vet reporter...

Curtis: So what's on your mind Wallace?  Health good?  Life good at home?  What's on your mind my friend?
Coleman: Well its no secret that you have been a little on the short end lately with your matches.  How do you feel about your future in this company?

Curtis shrugs before giving his answer

Curtis: About how anyone could feel at this point.  You look at the situation and go "Well...here's the options management gives ya:  Shape up or you know where the door is.
Coleman: And how have you answered it usually?
Curtis: Before I met a very important person in my life...like I needed to just get away from here, re-evaluate and then make a decision out there Points to the ring and tell the fans my decision.  Now...now its a bit different.  Now with this important lady in my life I'm going to be around a bit longer to show the fans what I got and...

Just then Joshua spots two individuals making their way towards him and Curtis ain't too pleased...

Curtis: sarcastically Hi my name's Joshua Curtis and who in the hell are you?!
Voice: Joshua...that's a lovely name.

The two individuals finally come into shot. The first, newly resigned Albert Drabble and standing in front is the second, Julia, owner of the voice and Drabble's valet.

Julia: Josh-oo-aa. Doesn't it sound lovely, Albert?

Drabble says nothing.

Curtis: What do you want?
Julia: Nothing, nothing. I wa-...I mean, [we] were just walking here and saw you, and came to tell you just how much [we] admire you. You're very...admirable, Mr. Curtis.

Julia starts to play with her hair, a seductively innocent look on her face.

Julia: Don't they call you the Dark Angel?
Curtis: Used to.
Julia: Have I told you how much I love...dark things, Joshua?
Curtis: Are you done? Because I am.

Shaking his head, Curtis brushes past Drabble and Julia out of camera-shot.

Curtis walks off away from the camera, Julia not taking her eyes off him. Drabble contines looking nonchalant and largely ignorant.

Coleman: Just while you’re here, Mr Drabble, could we get a few words about your match coming up against Mr Mystery?

After a brief few seconds of pause, Drabble shrugs carelessly. Finally returning to focus, Julia turns to Coleman.

Julia: I’ll answer this!

She pulls the microphone to her mouth as Drabble wanders off-camera without reason.

Julia: Mr Mystery, my man Albert is gonna kick your ass! He is going to kick your ass! You hear? And I’m gonna watch as he breaks every bone in your bo-

She is caught off guard momentarily as the big man wanders back into the shot, holding a sandwich, one bite already in his mouth. She shakes her head, before continuing.

Julia: I’m going to watch as he breaks every bone in your body, and I’m going to love every second of it. Albert Drabble is the real deal, and he’s my man, and we’re going to win!
Drabble: Can we go now?
Julia: sigh Yes, Albert, we can. Come on!

Julia smirks at Coleman seductively before grabbing Drabble's and pulling him along. The camera follows the pair as they walk away. Julia stops for a second, spins to face Drabble and snatches the sandwich away from him.

Julia: Gimme that!

Disposing of the sandwich, the duo continue walking as the camera cuts back to the announce table.

Jack: Well, umm, interesting words there from Albert Drabble and Julia.
Denrol: Talking not their strong-point, eh?
Jack: A safe assumption.

We return to the announcers, just as Denrol sits back down.

Jack: Welcome back Denny.
Denrol: Whatever.
Jack: Anyway, Tonight’s Underground taping started with the re-debut of Albert Drabble.
Denrol: A weird, weird guy.
Jack: An understatement if there ever was one.
Denrol: And he took on the very “talented” Mr. Mystery.
Jack: Why the quote fingers?
Denrol: Mystery sucks, man. Reminds me a lot of Christian Matthews, another dude who sucked around here.
Jack: Easy now…Let’s take you back to the last few minutes. 

We cut to the Keystone Centre earlier in the evening. As fans filter down to their seats, Drabble has Mystery locked in a chinlock.  

Jack: Drabble wrenches back tight on the hold.
Denrol: Chinlock.
Jack: Chinlock.
Denrol: Ol’ Albie could have done a few sit-ups while he was gone, you know? It seems like he went on the Chris Conway diet.
Jack: Whatever happened to that guy?
Denrol: I think it was like the first few minutes of “Seven”. Remember the gluttony guy? 

Mystery starts fighting out of the hold, elbowing Drabble low. Drabble retreats to the corner, but flies out, spinning like the top at the end of Inception. Well, except he doesn’t start to teeter.  

Jack: He calls this the Roulette Wheel.
Denrol: I call it a miss! He whiffs! 

Indeed, Mystery ducks and Drabble overshoots. Mystery quickly grabs Drabble and rolls him up in a small package.  

One!

Two!

Kickout!

Denrol: What is he doing here? 

Mystery is on top of the sitting Drabble, locking his head between his legs. He grabs Drabble’s leg and pulls back.  

Denrol: Stump Puller!
Jack: A devastating maneuver…
Denrol: Maybe it would be if he did it the right way…See, he’s not applying the proper pressure to the neck area. This move works by wrenching the neck area and pushing it forward. Instead, he’s merely stretching him out!
Jack: I…I see what you’re saying… 

Drabble slides out the back, pushing the cobwebs out. But Mystery is there and lifts him high in the air.

Denrol: Are we going to see the worst bodyslam ever?
Jack: It looks like it…Mystery going for his finisher!
Denrol: That is its name? I was referring more to the fact that Mystery is terrible! 

Mystery slams Drabble down, hitting his head on the mat and not getting the proper rotation.  

Jack: OUCH! 

One!

Two!

Three!

Ding, Ding!

Jack: A huge victory for Mr. Mystery!
Denrol: Do we call this an upset? 

Trudeau: The winner of this contest, MIIIIIIISSTERRRRRR MYYYYYYYSSTERRRRRRRRRYY!

The camera cuts backstage to Rachael Beckett's office where she is sat at he desk working. There is a knock at the door.

Beckett: Come in... Jack!

The door opens and Jack enters the room, he looks confused but takes a seat opposite Beckett nonetheless.

Griffiths: How did you know?

Beckett: Firstly I asked you to come here remember and secondly you are the only one who knocks remember?

Griffiths: Indeed but I still don't understand why I am here? Has my insurance come through?

Beckett: Your insurance is why you are here, but you aren't covered yet.

Griffiths: I don't understand, am I not going to be involved in that title match at Meltdown then?

Beckett takes a sip from a cup of coffee before answering Jack.

Beckett: The match I announced is the plan for Meltdown, as long as your insurance cover comes through. 

Griffiths: And if it doesn't?

Beckett: Then the match will go ahead without you, and you will have forfeited your rematch by being unable to compete.

Griffiths: Thats ridiculous, its not my fault that I am not cleared to compete!

Beckett: Its completely your fault... you were the one who didn't understand your insurance details and YOUR actions last week, have made your insurance company asked for even tighter restrictions on how we handle you.

Jack looks at Beckett in shock at the truthful revelation as the camera cuts away.

The scene shifts backstage, where The Cog is alone in his dressing room, the US Title around his waist and the ARW Championship around his neck. He is seated before a set of the unmistakable Rock Band drums, upon which he's flailing about nonsensically; the camera is trained on him only while the television he's playing on is off-screen. It sounds as if he's trying to struggle through Megadeth's "Rust in Peace... Polaris," but it's clear that it's way too much for him, as the music cuts out and the crowd boos. His face grows stern, the annoyance clear.

WHACK!

He obviously restarts, as the crowd on the game stops booing and starts murmurring again. Before long, the song begins again, and once again it's not long before he fails out. His annoyance morphs to anger, as he bares his teeth and lets out a low growl.

WHACK!

Another restart. After struggling at first, he starts to get the hang of it, and the crowd gets behind him more. His bared teeth slowly formulates a sneer, and he loosens up a bit as he plays. He's really enjoying himself now, at least until there's a loud and sudden knock at his door, which causes him to start to lose his rythym.

The Cog: C-come in, it's o-open! Wha-?!

He clearly loses it completely, as he fails out shortly thereafter. He stands slowly, a look of shock on his face, that is soon replaced by utter rage. He lets out a loud roar in the direction of the television, grabbing the sides of his head. He hits himself in the head once or twice as he roars, and from behind him the familiar form of the Native American Badass, Shaman, makes its presence known.

The Cog: still at the television WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH?! YOU'RE AN INHUMAN MONSTER! RRRAAAAAAAAAGH!

He turns, still snarling, to his visitor, and his snarl ends almost immediately with a squeak. The two men merely look at each other for a moment, a look of contempt on Shaman's face and a look of fear on The Cog's. The Cog chooses to break the awkward silence finally.

The Cog: quietly Uh... Hey there, buddy. What's crack-a-lackin'? Want a soda?

Shaman moves past The Cog slowly, raises his boot, and stomps the Rock Band drum kit into oblivion. Pieces of plastic go flying, the screen makes the requisite selection noises, and the song sorta begins again. The Cog's mouth falls open; Shaman turns back to The Cog, lets out a contented sigh, and extends a hand. The Cog looks back and forth between Shaman's outstretched hand and the drum kit, the devastation clear all over his face and body. Finally, he reaches down, unlatches the US Title, and hands it over to Shaman. At the same time, the song that isn't being played gets failed and the crowd in the game appropriately begins to boo. The Native American throws the belt over his shoulder, mockingly dusts off the gold faceplate, gives a little smile, and leaves, the sound of the door opening and closing behind him present. The Cog falls heavily into his chair, picks up his drumsticks, and merely looks at the wreckage before him. He meekly tries to his the drums, a little tear in the corner of his eye; he's a child that has just had his toy truck victimized by a bully. The sound of the door opening again can be heard, and Xaeroh walks into the shot, a couple of pizzas in his hands. He surveys the carnage silently, before The Cog turns slowly to him, a new kind of anger overtaking him; his anger is no longer the simple kind, as he's to the kind of anger that comes with the stages of grief, the one coupled with total and utter loss.

The Cog: Where were you when I needed you, you retarded superweapon?! WHERE WERE YOU!?

Xaeroh is taken aback a bit, and he raises the pizzas. The Cog slaps them away violently, cardboard and delectable Italian cuisine sailing through the shot.

The Cog: Why do you always do what I tell you to do?!

Xaeroh doesn't seem sure of what to do, and finally, after another awkward pause, he reaches off-camera and produces a Rock Band guitar and extends it to The Cog, who looks as if it's the most insulting thing in the history of humanity.

The Cog: I WILL NOT PLAY BASS! I AM THE DRUMMER, THE DRIVING FORCE OF MUSIC!

The Cog runs screaming from the scene, arms waving wildly. Xaeroh watches him as he goes, the door opening and slamming off-screen. Xaeroh is obviously crushed, his head drooping and his chest heaving a silent sigh. After a beat, the shot fades out.

Jack: We’re going to take you back to earlier tonight now for…
Denrol: Another recap.
Jack: Well, what can I say? There’s a lot of action on tonight’s Underground and we had to condense to get it all to fit.
Denrol: But we’re a webcast. Can’t we make it all fit?
Jack: I have no idea. I take all commands from above. Anyways, let’s take you back to closing moments of Colby Korver versus the Cog.
Denrol: Heh, more like Cog and Xaeroh versus Korver.  

Indeed, as the video footage roars to life, Korver is outside the ring and Xaeroh stands with his arms raised, proclaiming his innocence to the referee.

Jack: He just kicked Korver’s head off!
Denrol: That’s not what I saw.
Jack: Oh no? What did you see?
Denrol: …It appeared that Korver slipped.

As Xaeroh distracts the ref, the Cog slips outside. He heads over to Gary Trudeau and tosses the announcer down.

Jack: Easy now!
Denrol: Trudeau’s a fossil. Sometimes, you have to break some bones to make change happen.
Jack: Uhh…What? 

The Cog has the ARW Championship belt and aims drops it by Xaeroh’s feet. He slides back into the ring, complaining to the ref that Korver has been pulling his hair.

Denrol: Ha ha ha ha! Classic Cog!
Jack: Classic Cog, huh? Except Korver is still out!

Well, not exactly. Korver is getting to his feet, but Xaeroh has the ARW belt lined up. Korver doesn’t see it coming, as the big man connects flush with his dome.

CRAXT!

Denrol: A brutal shot…the blood is pouring out all over the place now.
Jack: And there’s no DQ?
Denrol: The Cog is now showing off his tattoos to the ref.
Jack: And he didn’t see the belt shot…do these refs even pay any attention?

Xaeroh rolls Korver in. The Cog darts over and slaps on the Headscissors Choke.

Denrol: Korver is fighting it, weakly. Can he make it to the ropes?
Jack: He’s a ways away…

Korver inches closer, as his hand shakes. When his foot is close, he pauses, gaining all his remaining strength. He stretches…

Jack: Son of a-! Xaeroh just grabbed the bottom rope and pulled it away!
Denrol: Ha ha ha ha! I love this guy!

The Cog rolls Korver over, away from the ropes, as the referee gets in Xaeroh’s face. Turning around, he sees the life fade from Korver. The ref raises his arm up.

It falls once.

It falls twice.

It falls thr-NO!

Denrol: How is he finding this strength?!
Jack: The Cog looks shocked…and tightens his legs. 

Korver’s face turns blue and he has no choice but to tap out.

Denrol: The Cog dominated Korver! It seemed like Colby never got out of the blocks.
Jack: It’s a lot easier to dominate when it’s two-on-one!
Denrol: You claim that happened, but I didn’t see any of it.
Jack: Very convenient. 

The Cog and Xaeroh celebrate as Korver is attended to.

Trudeau: Your winner by submission, THEEEEEE COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGG!

We return to the commentators.

Jack: Well as you saw, Korver was laid out. Thankfully he did get treated and is doing much better now. We will hear from Korver later tonight.

Back in the locker room area we find Joshua Curtis sitting on a chair in front of his locker when he hears a knock at the door...

knock knock

Joshua Curtis: Come in

In walks Julia, the woman that Joshua met earlier with Drabble.  He looks up once at her and just kind of goes off into his own world as she speaks...

Julia: Hey Cutie...remember me?

Unfazed Joshua just continues in his trancelike manner and just leans back in his chair waiting to hear what she has to say

Julia: I was just thinking you know.  Albert is a nice guy and all but you runs her hand up his leg seem to be more my type!

Julia makes herself more..."comfortable" by having a seat on Joshua's lap and tries to kiss him...

BIG MISTAKE!

As if he was shot out of a cannon Joshua bolts up out of the chair and looks down at a now visibly terrified Julia.  He carefully stalks his prey as she backs up not knowing what Josh will do next and as she makes a break for the door he catches up to her and holds the door shut with a strength that not anyone has seen before!  What's more...the next time he speaks its in a tone that sounds almost demonic in nature...

Curtis: Julia my child.  You have awoken something that you shouldn't have my dear.

Julia: W-what the...

Joshua shushes Julia with a finger to her lips before speaking again...

Curtis: We despise people like you Julia.  You care about no one and you know not of true love.  We have someone in our lives that is very important and soon enough we will reveal that woman to everyone.  My dear Julia consider yourself lucky.  We don't hurt women or anyone that is truly innocent but your friend Drabble...he's not innocent in our court and at Meltdown we'll show you what we do to people like him!

Curtis takes his hand off the door and allows Julia to leave and as she does Joshua holds his head in his hands wondering what had just happened!  The scene cuts back to Jack and Denrol whom are just as puzzled

Jack:  Um folks...
Denrol:  You don't know either...do ya Jack?
Jack:  Its been rumored that Joshua has a bit of a split personality but...let's get back to the ring!

Backstage, The Arms Collector sits amidst his ever present entourage of cornermen and trainers. The tension of the upcoming match lingers over the room like a black cloud. Standing over his shoulder, Max Mancuso looks on as the final wrap of tape is pressed into place.

Marcus: That's fine.

Marcus closely examines his wraps and nods.

Marcus: Yeah, that'll do just fine.

Marcus gives the taping a few test punches into the open palm of his other hand, creating a solid THUD sound. A sly grin crosses his face as he looks up to his tape man.

Marcus: Thanks.

Marcus looks up at his Dad, who is almost dismissive of the goings on around him.

Marcus: Pops? You okay?

Max answers with an unconvincing nod. Marcus looks at the other men in the room.

Marcus: Guys, you wanna give us a second?

Everyone gets up and leaves, leaving Marcus and Max alone in the locker room. Marcus stands up and looks at his dad.

Marcus: Dad?
Max: Yeah?
Marcus: What's wrong?
Max: ...nothing.

Marcus grabs his dad.

Marcus: Dad? Be honest with me.

A moment a thought crosses Max's face.

Max: Marcus...no one knows better than I do how skilled and tough you are, you understand that, right?

A look of confusion crosses Marcus' face.

Marcus: ...and?
Max: I just hope you know what you are going to have to do to win this match tonight. What depths you will have to go to. What sorts of pain you will have to endure. You're as tough as they come, Marcus, but you've never faced something like this before.

Marcus turns away from his dad, trying to listen to his dad, but at the same time trying to force down the anger swelling inside him.

Marcus: What are you trying to say, Dad? You don't think i can win?
Max: I didn't say that. Look, I'm your father. I'm going to worry. Especially when you are stepping into the ring with someone like Shaman in this sort of match when you don't have a clear grasp of what is ahead of you. I want you to be careful.

Marcus grins, finally understanding what it is his dad is trying to say.

Marcus: Did Mom tell you to say that?
Max: Of course, do you think I can think up crap like that on my own?

Marcus slaps his dad on the shoulder.

Marcus: Well, do you think we should go win this title, Pop?
Max: Ready when you are.

Marcus turns and heads towards the door. Max reaches out and stops him.

Max: Marcus...

Max slowly extends his hand.

Max: Win or lose, I'm proud of you, son.
Marcus: ...

Marcus reaches down and grabs his hand.

Marcus: I know. Now let's go.

The camera cuts backstage to WWA Senior Interviewer Wallace Coleman, who is standing by with Colby Korver.

Coleman: I am here with Colby Korver, who earlier tonight suffered a tough loss at the hands of The Cog and his new superweapon, Xaeroh. I know that had to be frustrating, especially on the heels of last week's incident involving Shaman and your former high school wrestling coach.

Korver: Frustrating? Missing out on a threesome because your roommate snagged the last rubber out of your drawer while you were on a beer run for him? That's frustrating. Settling for a late night straggler's run through the local bar crowd instead and then waking up next to a less athletic Snooki the next morning, that's frustrating. Yeah, losing to The Cog tonight was frustrating, since I beat him like one of Shaman's old war drums the last time we met. But what happened last week, that wasn't frustrating. What happened last week was a goddamn national tragedy.

Korver motions for Coleman's microphone, who nervously hands it over, not so much for fear of Korver himself, but of his unedited mouth.

Korver: Thank you, sir.

Korver takes a step forward and looks directly into the camera with a look of seriousness yet unseen since his arrival here in the WWA.

Korver: Now you listen to me, you Chief Wahoo wanna be, self-important, over the hill and past his prime, poor excuse even for a paper champion. You have f#*ked with the wrong guy, Tonto.

Coleman: Colby, you know you can't...

Korver: I'm good, Walls. There's a reason we rock the seven second delay around here. Plus, you can always just tell them that I strong-armed you for it.

Coleman: But there's a camera rolling.

Korver: So now you also have visual proof that you had no chance of getting it back, perfect.

Coleman: I guess...

Korver: Relax, I was built for this.

Focusing back on the camera.

Korver: You think that you throws up air quotes "made a statement" by attacking a sixty-year old retiree? Well, you're right. You did make a statement. But do you know what you really stated, every bit as loud and clear as my d*#k is long? That you just don't have it anymore.

Korver shrugs his shoulders, before continuing on.

Korver: You simply had no other options, because you are no more capable of a US Champion than you are of living up to your own name. Now odds are, you only picked that ring name because it sounded a hell of a lot cooler than Big Chief Curtain Jerker, but had you done even a little research, you probably would have found out that 'shaman' isn't even a Native American concept. It comes from Siberia, you big dummy. And I don't think I even have to point out, but of course I will anyway, the irony of someone misusing a name that he assumes means someone respected and of great wisdom. Your own people cringe at your name and yet somehow I'm supposed to respect you?

Korver takes a deep, measured breath before delivering his closing statements.

Korver: Well, I don't respect you. And I sure as hell don't fear you, as you oh so desperately desire us all to do. The only thing people fear, is that when they wake up tomorrow, you'll still be the WWA United States Champion. But there is hope, because tonight you step into the ring with a man more deserving, more talented, and...here's your favorite...infinitely tougher than you. And I believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that Marcus Mancuso will put you down tonight and take your US Title. And nothing will make me happier than to see him realize that goal and you make what I hope is your first stop on your inevitable and long overdue farewell tour.

Korver motions the camera in for a final closeup.

Korver: But know this. If you somehow lie, cheat or steal your way to victory tonight, I will be waiting. And whether it's tonight, tomorrow or next month, it doesn't matter to me when, only that there will eventually be a reckoning. And there is nothing that you can do about it, except wait...

Korver holds his glare for a few long moments, before finally breaking it with a smirk. Flipping the microphone back to Coleman, Korver takes his leave as the camera fades to black.

The lights dim and the WWAtron starts to flicker with life as it beams out various x-ray pictures of broken arms.

Trudeau: Ladies and Gentlemen, from Des Moines, Iowa. The Arms Collector! MARCUS MANCUSO!!

Can you read between the lines?
Or are you stuck in black and white?
Hope I'm on the list of people that you hate
It's time you met the monster you've helped create!

Mancuso emerges from behind the curtain as "Meet the Monster" by Five Finger Death Punch blares out from the house PA, wearing a sponsorship shirt and hat, bouncing from one foot to the other as a hoard of corner men, all wearing "Team Mancuso" shirts emerge behind him.

Crowd: Man-Cu-So! Man-Cu-So!

Marcus turns and slaps hands with his entourage and starts walking down the ramp towards the ring. Without hesitation, he slides into the ring and yanks his shirt and hat off, tossing them into the crowd.

Jack: Mancuso is in the ring.
Denrol: Mancuso again against Shaman..
Jack: Both these guys have a lot to gain and lose.
Denrol: I guarantee Shaman is in his own element here.

Dimmu Borgir - The Serpentine Offering blasts over the PA system as pyrotechnics explode around the entrance as Shaman steps through as Blue and red lights highlights his form eerily as if his eyes are glowing he razes his gaze towards the ring. Suddenly words flicker on the WWAtron as if through static.

CAN YOU FEEL IT!!!
CAN YOU FEEL IT!!!

Shaman steps forward swinging his arms back in forth in a boxers fashion.

Trudeau: Making his way to the ring hailing from Mojave New Mexico the WWA US Champion SHAMAAAAAAN!!

Shaman stops cracking his neck back and forth as he raises his arms up as two lightning bolts crash down around the ring entrance as he begins making his way down to the ring.

CAN YOU SEE IT!!!
CAN YOU SEE IT!!

Shaman walks slowly towards the ring his eyes staring at nothing but the ring. His gaze as if in a trance as he makes his way to the ring. He reaches up and grabs the ropes. He stands on the outside as he pulls himself up. He then simply steps himself over the top ropes and walks to the center of the ring and looks around at the ring itself. He then raises his arms high into the air and yells as loud as he can. A war cry from the huge Native American.

Denrol: Shaman isn’t a stranger to the unknown.
Jack: Come on, like he has to prove anything anymore.
Denrol: He proves things to everyone.
Jack: Prove what? That he is thick headed?
Denrol: You have always been jealous of the Franchise players.

Shaman and Mancuso lock up as Shaman quickly counters before Mancuso and executes a arm bar on Mancuso. Mancuso quickly counters slipping in behind Shaman. Shaman counters once again by slamming an elbow to the side of Mancuso's head causing him to release the hold. Shaman spins around quickly as Mancuso steps away. Shaman and Mancuso step hard into each other and go to lock up again. This time Shaman raises a knee into Mancuso's midsection. Pulling Mancuso's head up Shaman executes a head butt that staggers Mancuso. Shaman grabs Mancuso again and goes to send him out of the ring, but Mancuso quickly grabs the ropes and pulls himself to the side as Shaman turns. Mancuso suddenly nails him with a kick to Shaman's midsection and unloads a lot of fists into Shaman.

Denrol: Not a bad way to escape for Mancuso.
Jack: I am shocked that Shaman didn't get him out of the ring.
Denrol: Do you really think Mancuso wants to be in Shaman's element.
Jack: No smart wrestler would.

Mancuso grabs Shaman and slings him into the ropes as he jumps up hitting Shaman with a flying shoulder block. He staggers Shaman. He hits the ropes again and slips under Shaman between his legs and gets up grabbing ahold of Shaman executing a solid bridging suplex.

Jack: My god he hoisted Shaman enough to execute that?
Denrol: Leverage Jack he used leverage while Shaman was staggering.
Jack: Still impressive.
Denrol: No not really.

The referee drops for the quick count, But Shaman kicks out before the hand even hits the mat. Mancuso hurries up to his feet to keep the offensive going. He kicks Shaman in the side as the big man is getting up. Mancuso grabs Shaman and pushes him into the corner and begins driving his shoulder into Shaman's midsection. He quickly signals upwards as he climbs the ropes pummeling Shaman with lefts and right. Shaman suddenly grabs Mancuso's legs and steps forward executing an atomic drop. Mancuso comes down hard as he is bent at the midsection.

Denrol: How's that for a counter?
Jack: He just drove Mancuso's nether regions into his throat.
Denrol: Not like Mancuso would be able to use that area at the moment.
Jack: Still just the principle.

Reaching forward Shaman grabs Mancuso and spins him into the corner. He grabs Mancuso by the throat. He chokes Mancuso in the corner he literally is pushing him onto the top corner ropes as Mancuso's feet are off the mat.

Denrol: And the referee can do absolutely nothing.
Jack: These matches sometimes are too dangerous.
Denrol: What are you a wuss?
Jack: It is simply the principle.

Mancuso wraps his legs up and around Shaman upper arm and shoulder as he grips the wrist trying to break Shaman's vice grip lock on his throat. Mancuso applies pressure as Shaman realizes what's going on. Shaman struggles a bit, but cannot seem to pull Mancuso backwards.

Jack: Shaman in a bit of a predicament.
Denrol: Mancuso is just playing it smart here.
Jack: Take one of the man's weapons away and what do you have?

Shaman quickly gets a foot on the bottom rope and climbs as Mancuso lose balance and falls to the side dragging Shaman over with him. Halfway down Mancuso releases just before he hits the arena floor. Shaman lands hard right next to him. Shaman and Mancuso both roll to the side slowly getting up.

Denrol: Taken to the outside now this should get interesting.
Jack: The crowd is loving this.
Denrol: Of course they do it's the WWA.

Mancuso gets to his feet slowly as Shaman follows suit. Mancuso turns around as he and Shaman begins exchanging blows. Mancuso grabs Shaman's arm and pulls him into the corner post. Mancuso takes advantage quickly as he grabs Shaman and pulls himself up slightly and then slams Shaman down hard onto the ring steps.

Jack: Mancuso taking charge now.
Denrol: Shaman looking for a bit of a breather.
Jack: Not likely happening.

Shaman pulls his head back up as he stands back to his feet and staggers as Mancuso steps in and punches him several times in the head. He grabs Shaman by the hair and slams his face down onto the ring post. Shaman turns as a slight trickle of blood flows down from his forehead from a small scratch on his forehead. Mancuso steps back as Shaman begins to laugh.

Denrol: The beast has been released Jack.
Jack: I don't think I like the way this looks.

Shaman steps into Mancuso as they both begin to fight. Neither man giving an inch as the brawl becomes just that a straight up brawl. Both men fall to the ground fighting each other as Mancuso quickly rolls back into the ring as Shaman quickly follows. Mancuso gets to his feet nailing Shaman with a kick to the side of the head rolling the big man sideways under the ropes. Mancuso reaches down and grabs Shaman by the hair, But Shaman wants nothing to do with this as he grabs Mancuso by the feet and drags him out from under the ropes. Executing a short arm Lariat Shaman grabs Mancuso and drags him back to his feet. Shaman spins sending Mancuso into the guard rails.

Denrol: Shaman finally making something out of nothing.
Jack: Did he need to bleed slightly to wake up?
Denrol: Could be worse.
Jack: Yeah he could of won right away.

Shaman walks over and pulls Mancuso to his feet and slings him into the ring again. Shaman turns and makes his way around the ring slowly as he goes underneath the ring and pulls out a chair and looks to the crowd smirking. He slips the chair into the ring and looks at Mancuso as he slowly gets to his feet. Shaman slips into the ring slowly as he grabs Mancuso dragging him back to his feet. Shaman looks at where the chair is and sends Mancuso to the ropes as Shaman executes a tilt a whirl back breaker on Mancuso. Standing up Shaman looks down at Mancuso and the chair as he reaches down again and pulls Mancuso to his feet and executes a sidewalk slam down onto the chair. Shaman smiles as he hooks the leg as the referee drops down for the count.

One!

Two!

Jack: NO! Mancuso kicks out at the very last possible second.
Denrol: Mancuso showing a bit of resilience here.
Jack: Only time will tell if he can pull this out.

Shaman stands up grabbing the referee as he tells him to count faster. He turns and grabs Mancuso dragging him back to his feet. Shaman sends Mancuso to the ropes as he executes a powerslam on Mancuso. He reaches down once again and lifts Mancuso back to his feet and begins throwing a couple jabs at him. Suddenly Mancuso blocks one of the jabs and then fires a left out at Shaman, Shaman fires back as the two begin exchanging lefts and rights in the center of the ring.

Jack: Mancuso is back in control.
Denrol: You really should pay more attention.
Jack: How so?
Denrol: Look in the ring rookie.

Shaman exchanges another series of lefts and rights and he then grabs Mancuso's head and drops to his knees bringing Mancuso's chin right down onto the top of his own head. Shaman gets up quickly as Mancuso is holding his chin and mouth. Shaman grabs Mancuso and sends him to the ropes and charges the opposite side of the ring hitting the ropes. Mancuso suddenly grabs a hold of the top rope as Shaman comes charging at him with a full head of steam. Mancuso drops and pulls down causing Shaman to sail out over the top rope.

Jack: Yup momentum changed as Shaman landed on the floor.
Denrol: Yeah and Mancuso didn't prepare for this either.

The Cog and his henchman Xaeroh suddenly appear on the ramp and head towards the ring. Xaeroh slips into the ring first and begins attacking Mancuso. Mancuso starts firing back with a lot of heavy punches. The Cog slowly and methodically climbs into the ring watching all directions as he comes up behind Mancuso.

Jack: No, no, not The Cog!
Denrol: Mancuso has bitten off a bit more than he could chew here.
Jack: Mancuso is out numbered where's Korver?

The camera flashes backstage showing Rockband drumsticks holding Korver's locker room door shut. Someone is heard banging on the door from the inside. Back to the ring The Cog nails Mancuso with the chair that was in the ring and he and Xaeroh begin beating him afterwards. Shaman slowly rises to his feet and looks inside the ring seeing the action at hand. Shaman slowly walks up the ring steps and into the ring as he simply looks at Xaeroh and The Cog. Both men suddenly turn seeing Shaman standing behind them both. They all three begin to stare down one another as Shaman walks forward they back up. Shaman kneels to one knee and places a hand on the unmoving Mancuso's chest.

Denrol: This is it, take it where you can get it.
Jack: This is just so wrong.
Denrol: What Shaman taking a win?
Jack: No, Shaman needing The Cog to win.
Denrol: Shaman hates the Cog as much as Mancuso and Korver.

The referee drops down for the count.

One!

Two!

Three!

Ding, Ding!

Denrol: Shaman wins the match folks!
Jack: By less than spectacular means.

Shaman rolls out of the ring looking back at The Cog and Xaeroh. He stops at the timekeepers table and retrieves his US Title and backs up the ramp way watching the action in the ring. The camera zooms backstage quickly showing that Korvers locker room door is open wide.

Denrol: Korver is free somewhere.
Jack: This does not bode well for The Cog who trapped him in there.
Denrol: Those were his Rockstar drumsticks.

Suddenly from backstage Colby Korver blasts through the curtains and nails Shaman from behind knocking him down as the US Title lands a few feet away from him.

Denrol: Cheap display of heroism there.
Jack: Evened the odds did he?
Denrol: Well not by much.

Korver sneers looking down at Shaman and then looks towards the ring. He looks back and forth for a few seconds and charges the ring fast and quickly. He slips in attacking Xaeroh as The Cog bails out of the ring sprinting up the ramp. The Cog stops and notices Shaman just recovering he reaches down and grabs the US Title and hurries through the backstage curtains disappearing.

Denrol: He did it again!
Jack: Someone needs to stop The Cog and his antics.
Denrol: He steals things that aren't his.
Jack: You are just angry it happened to a friend of yours.

Shaman stands up not looking around as he heads to the ring after Korver. He is obviously angry as he enters the ring. He and Xaeroh have Korver cornered as Korver keeps the brass knuckles between himself and the two. Suddenly the melee begins as Shaman and Xaeroh attack him and begin beating him down a bit.

Denrol: Korver is doomed.
Jack: He can hit one, but not two.

Suddenly from no where Mancuso spears Shaman taking him down to the mat with a double leg takedown. He gets up quickly as Korver nails Xaeroh with an overhand that knocks Xaeroh through the ropes.

Jack: Look out Shaman, you're all alone in the ring.
Denrol: Not the first time he has faced uneven odds.

Shaman looks at the two men as he prepares to attack, but changes his mind as he drops backwards over the top rope to outside the ring. He simply backs up the rampway watching the two as Xaeroh stands up looking at Mancuso and Korver from the opposite side of the ring. Korver and Mancuso are standing back to back watching the two.

Denrol: Trapped like rats.
Jack: They have the high ground and the edge.

There's a loud clearing-of-the-throat sound, and all eyes suddenly are on the big screen. The camera follows and reveals that The Cog is there. He's apparently somewhere backstage, a grin on his face. The fans boo LOUDLY.

The Cog: Stand down, Xaeroh. That'll do.

Xaeroh stops what he's doing and leaves.

The Cog: I'd like to thank you for keeping this warm for me, my kindly Native American friend.

He holds up the United States Title belt, and the boos that come from this act are monstrous. Shaman looks around on the ramp for the title a second and then looks up at The Cog with a look that could kill.

Jack: The Cog is back with Title in hand.
Denrol: Shaman won't let this go unchecked.

Korver and Mancuso observe the departing Xaeroh, but stay ready to fight if necessary. Both men pay close attention to what's going on as well with The Cog speaking.

The Cog: As the rightful holder of this belt, I am putting it on the line at Meltdown, as any good and fighting champion does. I, United States Champion The Cog, will face off against... SHAMAN! Cheering and mostly booing. But that's not all! In this match will also be... COLBY KORVER! Mostly cheering mixed with booing now. BUT WAIT! If you act now, which you are, I guess, I'll even include in this mix... MARCUS COLLECTOR! BIG pop. That's right, FOUR men, all battling for MY US Title! And all will fall in my wake. Boos now. Eat lightly leading into Meltdown, boys... Because that night you'll all be eating crow by the bucket.

Shaman seethes as he looks up at the screen and then heads backstage quickly. Korver and Mancuso stand in the ring simply watching the screen as they are still prepared to fight.

Denrol: There you have it four men for the one and only US Title.
Jack: That match is going to be crazy nuts.
Denrol: None of these men will know what will happen till the match.

Greg Segier is seen picking up his kit bag and walking to the exit. With a simple shirt and jeans combo, Greg looks refreshed but tired after his match to Eddie Van Dorn. A roadie with greasy black hair waves at Greg as he leaves towards the car park.

Roadie: Good job tonight Mr. Segier

Greg turns round and nods. He merely smirks at the Roadie and continues his walk.

Greg: Idiot.

Greg pushes back his hair to the side and stands still at the car parking area. He turns his shoulders to see nothing but shadows, narrowing his eyes he looks for the rented car to take him back to the hotel. The camera hangs back to see lurking in the shadows the loose shaggy blonde locks of Nick Adams. He's fully kitted out in his "Rainmaker" attire, perched on some crates with a "BARSTON COOKIES" label. Nick waits for Greg to be just out of reach before leaping down and landing silently like a cat.

Greg: Where is it.

Greg mutters under his breath, looking down at the concrete carpet. Whilst Nick Adams pulls out a Singapore cane and holds it high above his head. The lighting causes Nick's shadow to fall right in front of Segier.

Greg: I know you're behind me, Adams. I suggest you put down the weapon.

Greg turns round slowly, his eyes wide open looking at the slightly taller man who is smiling from ear to ear.

Adams: Was it the landing Segier? Or maybe the fact you can hear my thoughts and heard the William Tell overture in my head. Or... wait, wait, I know - you're psychic!
Greg: Cute. But you don't want to do this. This... This isn't you Adams.

Greg holds up a hand ready to defend himself, but clearly realizing this isnt looking good. Adams' smile gently fades as he pulls the cane back down to his side. The camera picks up a sigh of relief from the "Second Generation".

Adams: You're right. This isn't me - I'd rather just win in the ring. You, me, Meltdown. Then you'll see the meaning of "any means possible".
Greg: I refuse. You don't deserve to fight me again Adams. You're pathetic.
Adams: Sure. How's knowing that you've never legitimately won a match going for you? I bet your dad's really proud.

Greg snorts cocking his head to the side, you can see the anger in his face, but with the cane still prominent in Segier's vision, he takes a step back.

Greg: You know if you didn't have that thing, you'd regret saying that!
Adam: But alas Segier, I do.  So here we stand.  I would suggest accepting that match.

Greg takes another step back and Adams counters with a step forwards. Greg looks to the side for help, but sees nothing coming.

Greg: I'm not facing you Adams. I refuse.
Adams: These are not the droids I'm looking for.
Greg: What?
Adams: Sorry - answer. That's not the answer I'm looking for.

Greg assesses his options and looks around, the exit only one hundred yards away. He throws his kit bag into the face of Adams and runs. Adams, having caught the bag with his free hand, looks at the running Segier. Setting the weapon down, Adams opens the bag and starts looking through it.

Adams: He's trying to bribe me with his ring gear and ten pairs of boxer briefs? What a weirdo.

At a safe distance Greg turns around towards Adams and screams.

Greg: You won't get the better of me Adams! You hear me?
Adams: No, I can't! You ran too fast and are all the way across the garage!

Segier just turns and keeps going. Adams smiles; the week has ended on a high.

Jack: Wow, third time lucky for Nick Adams, setting down a challenge for Gregory Segier on Meltdown!

And the scene fades.

The camera opens on RJ Stone stalking down a nondescript corridor in the back. He is wearing his familiar leather trench coat, dark sunglasses, a black skull cap, jeans, combat boots, fingerless gloves and a black t-shirt. The WWA title rests on his shoulder. He remains as expressionless as always, but walks with a purpose. Suddenly, a female voice rings out behind him.

Beckett: RJ! RJ!

Stone finally wheels around, sighing and speaking to Rachel Beckett in a very condescending tone.

Stone: As long as I am this company’s champion, most recognizable face and main investor, you may refer to me as “Mr. Stone.”

Beckett tries to sidestep this.

Beckett: Of course, but I need to-

RJ smirks arrogantly and clears his throat.

Stone: Of course….what?

He removes his sunglasses and cocks an eyebrow. Beckett looks at him in disbelief. He turns to leave. Rachel swallows her pride and stares ice daggers at RJ, and through her teeth she produces a…

Beckett: Of course, Mr. Stone. I just needed to give you a word of advice, straight from Mr. Babb himself.

Stone: And what may that be? To not interrupt the number one contender’s match later tonight? But I would have thought that I’d end up getting a reward for it. After all, Chris Bagwell did it and ended up getting to be thrown into the WWA title picture. Funny how some get a pat on the head for disobeying you and others are told they have to win the belt or don’t get to challenge again for the rest of the year. Luckily you save the real challenges for the men who can live up to them. But tell me, was I right?

Rachel rolls her eyes, sighing heavily.

Beckett: In not as many words, but yes, you were right.

RJ smiles again.

Stone: Oh my, I’m good aren’t I? Vaughn and I seem to operate on a similar wavelength. Maybe he and I could actually meet for once? I’ve been dying to meet him finally, if you couldn’t tell. How are those ten poor gentlemen doing? They never responded to the letters I sent them.

Beckett is clearly done with RJ, having communicated what she needed to.

Beckett: If you’ve finished with me R….Mr. Stone, I have some other business to attend to. And remember, stay out of the main event tonight.

Stone: Or what, you’ll throw something else at me that I’ll overcome? You and your mysterious Mr. Babb can’t beat me, Beckett. I don’t care how many number one contenders you groom and send at me. I’ll take them all and show them how weak that they, and more importantly you, are.

RJ puts his sunglasses back on and makes a conscious decision to stalk off in the opposite direction from where he was going. He bumps into Beckett rather roughly.

Stone: Excuse me.

This causes Rachel to drop the manila folder and paperwork she was carrying and the final image is of Beckett kneeling down to pick up the papers, muttering to herself.

Jack: The match to decide who faces STone at Meltdown, is next!

Trudeau: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and will determine the number one contender to the World Wrestling Alliance Championship at Meltdown!

Cheers. They're replaced immediately with boos, though, as "The Great Southern Trendkill" by Pantera plays over the PA, positively bursting the ear drums of anyone unfortunate enough not to wear ear plugs, the visceral shriek of Phil Anselmo streaming into the venue. A strobe flashes behind the curtain, and as the cloth slides to the sides, the big, bald badass is revealed in silhouette against the flickering light. He raises his arms and strides forth.

Trudeau: Introducing first, from Dallas, Texas, weighing in at 355 pounds... TRENDKILLER!

As the primal shriek of Phil Anselmo fades into the first verse, Trendkiller makes his way down to the ring, steps in over the top rope and stalks in the ring, raising his arms in the air from time to time.

Jack: This is one frightening man.
Denrol: The next number one contender, too.

BREATHE

That single word echoes throughout the arena, stirring a loud but neutral reaction from the capacity crowd in attendance. The beat drops as Mike Hardy’s rendition of "Breathe" blares over the PA system. Chris Bagwell steps through the curtain, wearing his trademark torn blue jeans complimented with only wristbands. He pauses at the top of the stage before flicking his arms up and out to the sides, palms facing the sky. His body language screams, "Idolize Me."

Trudeau: From Newark, New Jersey, weighing in at 227 pounds... The Rajah of Ratings... CHRIS BAGWELL!

Bagwell whips his arms down to his sides, signaling a huge pop from the crowd. He triumphantly marches down the aisle towards the ring, slipping under the bottom rope and into the ring. He pops back up to his feet and once again flaunts his "Idolize Me" pose to the crowd, causing Trendkiller to scowl.

Jack: Don't count your chickens before they're hatched, Denrol. This man, and the other man in the match, might have something to say about your assurance of Trendkiller's dominance.
Denrol: Nope.

As he brings his arms to his sides, the music fades. Over the loudspeakers, a distorted voice can be heard, vaguely singing, and the very words overtake the big screen...

THE WORLD NEEDS A HERO

The crowd goes wild, heavily distorted guitar grinds through the speakers, and in kicks "Dead Man's Party" by Oingo Boingo shortly thereafter. Jaymz Watkins bursts from behind the curtains, smiling but still obviously determined. He holds his arms out wide, as if to embrace the whole crowd, pumps his fist, and with a skip, takes off down the ring steps at full-speed.

Trudeau: And from New Orleans, Louisiana, weighing in at 275 pounds... JAYMZ WATKINS!

The Master of Five Magics slides under the bottom rope and is to his feet quickly, and there he stands, eying both men cautiously as his music fades out. For a moment, he and Bagwell's eyes meet, but then...

Ding, ding

Jack: Who's going to Meltdown to face off against RJ Stone and Jack Griffiths? We'll find out right - Whoa!
Denrol: That's how you start off a match and make a statement.

What the two commentators are referring to are the fact that Chris Bagwell and Jaymz Watkins both lunged full-tilt at Trendkiller and nailed him with a double clothesline that sent him tumbling over the top rope to a great deal of cheering. Before Jaymz can react, though, Bagwell seizes the opportunity and and rolls Jaymz up tightly, drawing a quick gasp from the crowd.

One!

But Jaymz gets out almost immediately, and the two men roll away from each other before coming to a stop and staring at each other, calculating.

Jack: These men have had some great contests over the last few months. Will this be another?
Denrol: I assure you it will be... At least, until Trendkiller gets back up! Ha!

At almost the same time, the two men lunge for each other and lock up tightly. Bagwell gets a moment of leverage, drawing a mixture of boos and cheers, before Jaymz gets the upper hand, launching Bagwell backward and causing him to land flat on his back. The fans cheer loudly, and he rolls and gets to his knees, looking up at Jaymz, who smiles and gestures for him to bring it on. Bagwell does so, locking back up.

Jack: Jaymz gets the leverage and wins the initial standoff, but Bagwell wants another go. Will this end differently?

Once again, Bagwell looks as if he's going to get the advantage for a moment until Jaymz takes control. Immediately, though, Bagwell trips Jaymz and takes him down with an STO, to a mixed reaction. Bagwell transitions pretty seamlessly into an armbar.

Jack: The Rajah of Ratings looking to ground the World's Hero here, which is a great strategy, as Jaymz Watkins certainly has the advantage in power.
Denrol: Until Trendkiller shows up and swallows them both whole. And then has a beer.

Jaymz tries to jockey for position, but Bagwell has the hold in there pretty good and doesn't look like he has any interest in letting go. Jaymz tries to pry his arm out, but Bagwell doesn't appear interested in allowing this, either. So after a few moments of struggling, Jaymz somehow rolls through and ends up in an awkward-looking sorta-schoolboy, which draws cheers.

One!

Jack: Oh, good counter, but Bagwell has a nice one of his own!

Bagwell doesn't release the hold on the kickout, instead forcing Jaymz back onto his back and reapplying the pressure to a smattering of cheers and boos. Jaymz grunts loudly, struggles to reposition himself, but it's more difficult this time, as Bagwell is looking out for such a thing now. Jaymz tries to force himself up over Bagwell again, but the Rajah of Ratings resists mightily. Jaymz counteracts this by flipping himself up and over Bagwell, which ends up with him in a very awkward bridge position and Bagwell once again in the sorta-schoolboy. Jaymz groans VERY loudly as the move puts a TON of pressure on himself. The fans gush.

One!

Two!

Jack: Bagwell barely gets out. That was a very risky idea on the part of the World's Hero!
Denrol: You're right, but as much as I don't care for him, it was a very good call on his part. Watkins positioned himself in such a way that, even though it had to have KILLED his arm, he forced Bagwell to release. Well done. beat He's still gonna lose, though.

Both men get to their feet pretty quickly, Bagwell first by a tad. Jaymz shakes out his now-sore arm all of once, then quickly tries to hide the pain.

Denrol: That was like blood in the water. If I'm Bagwell or Trendkiller at this point, I start salivating at the prospect of torquing that arm some more.
Jack: Jaymz is a tough competitor, though, Gordon; I don't think it would be that easy. In fact, to my knowledge, Jaymz Watkins has NEVER tapped out in his career!

The two men quickly move to tie up again, but Bagwell is swift to squeeze around Jaymz and put that bothersome arm into a hammerlock. Jaymz winces in pain, but quickly hides it before elbowing Bagwell in the side of the head. Bagwell releases the hold of his own volition and changes it into a rear waist lock. Jaymz runs into the ropes in front of himself and grabs them, bouncing Bagwell off into a backward roll. The World's Hero turns to the Rajah of Ratings and charges in; Bagwell snatches Jaymz's arm and sends him into the opposite ropes. At exactly the same time...

Denrol: I told you so.
Jack: Oh, my God!

Trendkiller, who has recovered and gotten back into the ring at this time, nails Bagwell with the Death Rattle the instant he throws Jaymz into the ropes to a great deal of boos. As Jaymz rebounds, Trendkiller lights him up even brighter with the Death Rattle, and the crowd lets out a loud gasp before booing louder.

Jack: That was intense.
Denrol: Trendkiller kills more than trends, I must say.

The referee even looks a bit intimidated, looking from the broken men on canvas before to Trendkiller, who sneers in response.

Crowd: TK SUCKS! TK SUCKS!

Denrol: No, he does not. And I bet they wouldn't say that to his face, either.

Trendkiller, instead of pinning either man, chooses to dish out more punishment, picking up Jaymz and sneering in his face. He grabs Jaymz around the waist and throws him up and over the top rope with a belly-to-belly, causing the World's Hero to crash heavily on the outside. The fans don't appreciate it.

Jack: He's so strong...

The big, bald Killer of Trends immediately moves over to Bagwell, picking him up and sneering some more. Instead of a belly-to-belly, though, he hoists Bagwell effortlessly into the air with a gorilla press, drawing loud "oohs" mixed with boos from the crowd. He presses Bagwell a couple of times before moving over to the same side where he'd tossed Jaymz and throwing him over the top rope. Jaymz has recovered at this time, and Trendkiller uses Bagwell as a human javelin thrown directly into the World's Hero. The crowd gasps once more, before commencing booing again.

Denrol: As if he needed to show you again how strong he is. That's inhuman strength.

Trendkiller follows the two men to the outside and looks down upon their fallen bodies, contemplating. Eventually he picks up Bagwell and Irish whips him hard into the barricade. Shortly thereafter he whips Watkins into Bagwell, and the two rest there as Trendkiller sizes them up. The crowd begins to stir.

Jack: What does Trendkiller have planned here?

It's not long before that's revealed, as TK takes off full-tilt for the two men. At the last minute, they are both able to dive out of the way, and with a loud CRASH, Trendkiller plows through the barricade by himself. The crowd goes wild.

Jack: Nobody home for Trendkiller! What a costly mistake!
Denrol: He is a war machine, though. He'll be fine.

The other two men finally get to their feet, shaking out the cobwebs, and glance over at the fallen Trendkiller, where the fans have backed FAR away from his carcass. Bagwell, as at the beginning, makes the first move and blindsides Watkins with a forearm to the head. At this time the official has exited the ring and implores the two men to return to the ring, but Bagwell shoves him away. The Rajah of Ratings rams the World's Hero hard into the side of the ring, whipping Jaymz's head back hard from the impact. As Bagwell tries to back away, Jaymz hops up and smashes a knee into Bagwell's head, staggering him.

Jack: Stiff blows coming from both me.
Denrol: That'll continue until Trendkiller gets up, of course.

Jaymz rolls into the ring, and shortly after Bagwell follows. The official moves over to check on Trendkiller, who still hasn't moved much since crashing and burning. He prods the sleeping giant, and causes him to stir.

Jack: I hope he knows what he's doing...

In the ring, Jaymz takes Bagwell down with a Russian Leg Sweep and locks in tightly a Triangle Choke. Back outside, Trendkiller has struggled back to his feet, and angrily eyes the official, who looks like he immediately regrets bringing him around. With a roar, the massive Texan destroys the ref with a clothesline, drawing LOUD boos from the crowd.

Jack: What!? That was completely uncalled for!
Denrol: Oh, he deserved that, for sure.
Jack: Are you insane?

Trendkiller bares his teeth and slides into the ring. Once there, he delivers a sick and stiff stomp right into Bagwell's trapped head, and then delivers a second into the skull of Jaymz, once more leaving both men laying. He hoists Bagwell up and whips him hard into the nearest corner before following closely with a nasty spear, and continuing with a vicious string of shoulder thrusts to Bagwell's gut. He then grabs Bagwell by the throat, raises him high, and pitches him into the corner with a modified version of the original Southern Comfort to a great deal of booing.

Jack: Man, Trendkiller is a man possessed at this moment.

TK moves over to Jaymz now, clamping on a visegrip-like bearhug. Jaymz groans loudly, but the sound is cut off immediately when Trendkiller tightens his grip and shakes Jaymz around hard. The official has finally begun to stir now, as Bagwell has rolled out of the ring and landed next to him. The crowd begins to swell in support of their hero, trapped in the evil clutches of the Killer of Trends.

Jack: Can Jaymz Watkins find a way to escape this nasty hold, or will he pass out?

Jaymz's face has begun to turn red now, and he throws an elbow into TK's face to try and break up the hold, but the big, bald badass won't have any of it. All of a sudden, from out of nowhere, Chris Bagwell launches in and blasts Trendkiller in the side of the head with what appears to be a thick chain wrapped around his hand, drawing a loud mixed reaction as Trendkiller releases Jaymz and crumbles to the canvas.

Jack: What a nasty blow!
Denrol: You're not going to call that a cheap shot?!

Jaymz is on wobbly legs for a moment before he spies Bagwell throwing an identical punch at his head, and the Cajun is able to duck the blow and latch a go-behind waist lock on Bagwell.

Jack: Whew, Jaymz ducked it!
Denrol: Ah, so a hit on him would have been evil?!

Bagwell struggles against the hold, dragging Jaymz over to the ropes, which he grabs. The official has finally gotten back to his feet now, shaking the cobwebs out, and Bagwell sees this, dropping the chain outside the ring immediately. Jaymz, through sheer power alone, yanks Bagwell away from the ropes and delivers a sick and high-angling German Suplex that he finishes with a bridge. The official moves over, checks the shoulders, and makes the count.

One!

Two!

Three!

Ding, ding

Jack: He did it! With a German Suplex, no less!
Denrol: How disgusting!
Jack: Jaymz reacquired his shot at Meltdown in a hard-fought matchup!

Jaymz gets up and pumps his fist, as the referee moves over to the timekeeper and Trudeau. Finally...

Trudeau: Ladies and gentlemen, both men's shoulders were down for a count of three; therefore, BOTH MEN have been named Number One Contender!

Jack: WHAT?!

Jaymz turns to the official quickly, a look of utter confusion on his face, but the official will have none of it. Before long, Bagwell blasts Jaymz and the official, for good measure, with that chain, leveling them both.

Jack: Cheap shot! What is Bagwell thinking?!
Denrol: Getting an advantage?

Bagwell stands over their bodies, raising his hands with the chain between them. All of a sudden...

Beckett: I'm REALLY getting sick of this!

Bagwell turns to the entrance, and the camera reveals that Rachel Beckett has emerged onto the stage, mic in hand. The crowd cheers for her appearance.

Beckett: This has got to stop. At Meltdown, this war is going to end, no matter what, as the two of you AND Jack Griffiths will face RJ Stone for the WWA Championship. I'm sick of this carnage and so is Mr. Babb. He's prepared to take drastic measures to protect his investment; we can't have you maniacs running around and attacking each other and WWA personnel for no reason!

Bagwell frowns, as does Beckett.

Beckett: It may be questionable that you're in the match now, Chris, but you're there. You'd better watch out, though; the more people you piss off, the more people will want to hurt you come Meltdown.

Bagwell looks from Jaymz, who clutches the back of his neck and glares at the Rajah of Ratings, to Trendkiller, who has only just begun to stir. He glances back over to Beckett, appearing nervous for maybe an instant, but he simply sneers, drawing loud boos. The scene fades to black...