Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada
The show opens inside a small, drably decorated room with a wooden table in the middle. On one side of the table is sat two men in suits, whilst on the other side Jack Griffiths is sat. He is dressed smartly, for him, in jeans, a "Sex Bob-Omb" t-shirt and a blazer.
Griffiths: Look, we've been at this for hours now and my match is coming up. Let's get down to the big stuff, what do you need to hear me say to re-instate my coverage?
Suited Man One: This is what our concern is, you don't seem to understand that it's not about what you say to us, it's about what you are willing to commit to in the future.
Jack leans forward as he next speaks.
Griffiths: I understand that, Mr. Henderson. What I don't understand is what you want me to commit to. It feels like we've been talking in circles for hours, I am prepared to make commitments but I need to know what they are.
Mr. Henderson turns to his colleague and share a hushed couple of sentences before turning back to Jack.
Mr. Henderson: Very well. Our first concern is the usage of barbed wire within wrestling. We need a commitment that you will not bring barbed wire into a match, nor to agree to participate in a match that includes barbed wire as theme.
Griffiths: What if other people bring barbed wire into a match?
Mr. Henderson: Obviously we are opposed to that as well, but we also recognise that, that is something you have no control over. As a result our stance is that as long as in those situations you demonstrate a willingness to dodge or attempt to avoid being struck by the barbed wire then your insurance will be valid.
A big smiles fills Jack's face, as the decision is a no brainer to him.
Griffiths: Done! Though that seems obvious, who would just stand there and let themselves be hit with barbed wire?
Mr. Henderson: Indeed. Similarly we are looking for the same commitments with regards to glass and nails.
Griffiths: Also done I have to admit if these are the main stumbling blocks then I am very disappointed.
Mr. Henderson: These are the ones we suspected you would agree to, the next few could prove contentious.
Jack leans forwards again, ready to get down to business.
Griffiths: Well let's get to them then; 'cause right now it feels that we are all wasting our time with things that I am obviously going to agree to.
Mr. Henderson: Very well, one of our biggest concerns in your use of top rope moves.
Griffiths: Hell no! I am dropping those from my arsenal for any man.
Mr. Henderson: This is as we thought, unfortunately this is something we have very little negotiating room on. Those moves are unnecessarily dangerous and put your life in risk.
Jack stands up, and leans forward onto the table.
Griffiths: My life is never in risk with those moves, I've practiced them a thousand times to ensure that I can pull them off under any circumstances.
Mr. Henderson: We understand that...
On hearing that, Jack truly snaps, cutting off Mr. Henderson.
Griffiths: NO, I don't believe you do understand! Those moves are what sets me apart, they are the reason that I got this contract with the WWA, and as a result, they are the reason I can pay my insurance bill. If one of your demands is that I stop doing these moves...
Jack pauses for effect.
Griffiths: ...Then I'll find another company willing to insure me. I've never made an insurance claim and I only stayed with you guys when this all started happening because you'd rewarded my loyalty; but lest ye forget... there are other insurance companies.
Another pause.
Griffiths: So that is my counter offer... take it...
An angry but resolute Jack pauses one more time.
Griffiths: Or leave it!
Griffiths sits back down and leans backwards and sits with his arms crossed, waiting for a response as the scene fades out.
The scene 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 Credit Union Centre, where the fans are on their feet, chanting loudly.
Crowd: W-W-A! W-W-A! W-W-A!
Jack: Here we are at Underground, a mere 9 days away from WWA Meltdown 2010.
Denrol: And just the way I like it, we start right off with some in-ring action.
Trudeau: First to the ring, from Chita, Japan, he is Kiiiiii Looooshimooo!
The instrumental Japanese inspired rock beat blasts through the arena. Ki Loshimo comes from the wearing his usual ring attire, Loshimo extends his arms to the crowd who don't greet him very kindly.
Jack: Loshimo, is a highly rated rookie here in the WWA and waits in preperation for the arrival of our returning star from last week. Albert Drabble.
He begins his walk to the ring in an almost strut. Loshimo ignores the crowd as Aika Anzai walks by his side. Loshimo walks up the steel steps and into the ring. Anzai stays on the outside looking towards Loshimo who climbs to the second turnbuckle telling the crowd to continue the noise.
Denrol: Loshimo is hot at the moment, any competitor looks inferior compared.
He enjoys their jeers as he jumps from the turnbuckle and prepares in his corner.
Jack: Maybe so, but Drabble isn't a pushover.
Denrol: Is that a weight reference joke?
The house lights are replaced with an eerie, orange glow as everyone’s attention turns to the stage. ‘Mysterons’ by Portishead starts to blare across the PA system as the curtain is pushed aside.
Trudeau: Making his way to the ring, from West Yorkshire, England…Albert Drabble!
Inside your pretending Crimes have been swept aside Somewhere Where they can forget
Albert Drabble is dressed in only what seem like black formal trousers, his topless torso revealing quite a chubby physique. Appearing beside him is Julia, in complete contrast. Very skimpily dressed, she skips alongside him, a smirk on her face. The two walk down the ramp towards the ring. While Julia is very receptive with the fans, winking and grinning at the confused fans, Albert has his eyes firmly set on the floor.
Divine upper reaches Still holding on This ocean will not be grasped All or nothing
The two finally part ways, Julia opting to stand at ringside as Albert climbs up the steps and into the ring.
Did you really want
Did you really want
Quietly, Albert walks to the near turnbuckle and stands, waiting as the music slowly fades out.
Jack: Both men being checked over by the referee and this match looks ready to get underway
Ding, Ding!
Both men hook up with Loshimo making the first move ducking under the large body of Drabble and locking in a nice chicken-wing. Drabble tries to escape but Loshimo just twists his body and catches Drabble square in the jaw with a slap, knocking the big man back a few steps. Loshimo wastes no time in attacking further taking full advantage of the slight dizzying state.
Jack: Full momentum attack from Loshimo. He's really going for the quick win.
Loshimo hits a flying fore-arm to the head of Drabble, causing the big man to wobble like jelly, however Drabble remains on his feet only to see the boots of Loshimo connect with his chest causing him to fall through the second and top rope. The crowd cheer and boo at this impressive move.
Jack: Powerful, aggressive attacking play, but Loshimo seems to be soaking up the boos from the crowd rather than capitalising further.
Loshimo's manager Anzai shouts furiously at him to concerntrate but Loshimo still revels in infuriating the crowd further. As the referee counts out a slowly rising Drabble.
One!
Jack: Looks like Anzai is furious at Loshimo, the man seems more pre-occupied with the crowd than Drabble.
Denrol: Show boating can only be done by a classy act... Like myself. He's going to find that this bites him in the ass, heavily.
Two!
Drabble is back to his feet and freely rolls into the ring, sparking off more shouting from Anzai to Loshimo to buck his ideas up. But it's too late and Drabble knocks the wind out of Loshimo hitting a powerful chop to the head. Some crowd members cheer. Others boo. No-one seems to know to to look at during this match.
Jack: Irish whip from Drabble
Loshimo comes bounding off the ropes and ducks under the arm of Drabble, gaining speed and momentum, Loshimo jumps up in the air for an attack, but Drabble grabs ahold of the strong styled man and squeezes in a bear hug. Loshimo arches his back in pain, attempting to escape.
Jack: Wow, great counter measure by Drabble, Julia almost foaming at the mouth with pleasure.
Denrol: Jack, keep that commentary going…
Jack: Well she is, look at her face filled with pleasure.
Denrol: Ohhh yeah.
Jack: You sicken me.
Drabble squeezes in the hold a little tighter, sensing he has done enough he twists Loshimos body, using his strength and hits a perfect fall-away slam, the ring shakes with impact and Jacks voice yelps. As a motionless Loshimo lays flat on the matting and Julia commands Drabble to make the pin.
One!
Two!
Thre…KICKOUT!
Jack: No! Loshimo kicks out, right at the last possible moment.
Drabble is frustrated and throws some heavy boots into the body of Loshimo. Drabble picks up the slightly taller man and throws him into the corner. Loshimo stumbles out like coming out of a late night bar and finds his head almost taken off with Drabble running in and hitting a stiff Lariat.
Denrol: Drabble really does have some power behind him.
Jack: But he seems like such a gentle giant though.
Drabble drops for the pin, the referee slides into position.
One!
Two!
KICKOUT!
Jack: Yet again it's not enough to keep Loshimo down.
Drabble on his knees, looks at Julia who is constantly barking orders at him, he looks back at the position where Loshimo was, only to find him on his feet swinging a stiff blow into his face. Drabble falls back onto the matting and gets back up. Both men start to exchange blow after blow. Drabble using his size advantage hitting a powerful shot, dazing Loshimo.
Jack: Loshimo looking unsteady against the ropes.
Drabble hits a phenominal shot to the chin of Loshimo sending him up and over the ropes. Drabble instantly goes for the advantage and rolls out of the ring and begins to beat down Loshimo outside of the ring.
One!
Jack: More power from Drabble, this man looks a formidable foe.
Denrol: Yeah, when he actually moves!
Two!
Drabble hooks Loshimo up and hits a perfect suplex on the outside of the ring, Anzai is holding her head in disbelief as Drabble continues the onslaught.
Three!
Jack: Anzai is really not showing the kind of support a valet should.
Drabble then uses his weight to sit on the fallen Loshimo and hooks in a camel clutch using his “slight” weight advantage to use. Pulling tighter and tighter, the face of pain is etched all over Loshimo.
Jack: Well using a submission move on the outside of the ring isn't the smartest but he's really winding Loshimo down, taking his strength away and his focus.
Denrol: Submission on the outside? You wouldn't see Segier doing that!
Jack: You need to give up on that boy!
Four!
Drabble releases the hold and picks up the aching Loshimo, tossing him into the ring. Drabble quickly slides into the ring and goes for the pin. Hoping enough damage has been done to the shoulders and body.
Jack: This could be it
One!
Two!
KICKOUT!
Jack: Wow, you cannot fault Loshimos' strength and determination.
Drabble picks up Loshimo and finds he gets a kick in the gut and is doubled over with a perfect single arm DDT. Loshimo rises to his feet and so does Drabble. Loshimo dodges a blow from Drabble and turns around grabbing Drabbles arm and hits his signature short arm Lariat, the force almost knocks Drabbles' head off. He drops to the matting like a heap of bricks and Loshimo goes down for the pin.
One!
Two!
KICKOUT!
Jack: Wow, Drabble took Loshimos' whole body off the ground with that Kickout!
Loshimo looks like he's regained some of his composure and connects with a european uppercut to the face of Drabble, he pushes Drabble into the corner and climbs up hitting the head, the crowd don't count along, however this doesn't stop Loshimo playing to the crowd.
Jack: Several blows to the head of Drabble
Drabble blocks one of the punches and pushes Loshimo off onto the matting, both men run at one another and Drabble gets his huge body under a blow from Loshimo, twits and hits a huge roaring elbow. The crowd “Ooh” at the impact.
Jack: Roulette wheel from nowhere!
Denrol: Wow, he hid that move well from Loshimo!
Loshimo drops to the mat with no energy as Drabble ungracefully drops to the mat to make the cover and the referee drops.
One!
Two!
Three!
Ding, Ding!
Jack: Drabble gets the win from nowhere, he worked well, and got the offensive edge over a lackluster Loshimo!
Denrol: Anazi does NOT look happy with her man!
Drabble raises his arms in victory, but Loshimo is still spread eagle out on the matting.
Colby Korver is backstage in his locker room when, all of a sudden, Marcus Mancuso bursts in, a look of downright contempt on his countenance. Korver eyes him for a moment before addressing him.
Korver: a sly grin crossing his face We should have used protection, huh?
Mancuso: Dude, I'm in a mood to injure some folks tonight, and I seem to have received a written invitation to do so. Literally.
Mancuso raises something odd-looking into frame for a moment before slamming it down onto the nearby table. The camera pans down to it and reveals it's a weird invitation that resembles a highly-detailed pop-up book. It's a cityscape in flames with The Cog's disembodied head floating above the carnage; his mouth opens and closes constantly from some small contraption inside the thing, implying some sort of obnoxious laugh of evil. Across the city is written:
Your presence is requested in the Credit Union Centre
Saskatoon watches in awe of the presenter
The Clockwork Corner, a living, breathing blog
Saskatoon burns at the hands of The Cog
Korver looks at it for a moment, Mancuso gauging his reaction, but almost immediately Korver reaches off-screen and slams down on the table next Mancuso's invitation an identical invitation. The two friendly rivals lock eyes and shake their heads in unison.
Korver: This is retarded.
Mancuso: Yes, BUT at least this means I can finally break this guy's face.
Korver: Don't do that, bro. Just wait and let this foolishness run its course. You're going to get your hands on the asshole at Meltdown, finally.
Mancuso: I guess you've got a point there.
Korver: Of course I do. That's why I'm going to happily show up for this horse-hockey. He'll see there's nothing he can do to break my determination. I mean, I certainly expect the maniac to try and psych us both out.
Mancuso: Do you think Shaman got an invite?
Korver: Shaman would just eat all the food. He's a dick.
The door flies open again and a very angry Shaman storms into the locker room. Mancuso and Korver both stiffen up at the sight of the man that's escaped their clutches over the last few weeks, but he merely holds up a hand.
Shaman: The second I saw that stupid invitation I knew he was here. I've been looking high and low in every corner and shadow in this building and I can't find the little leech anywhere. He and only he is my target tonight; you two need not worry.
Korver and Mancuso exchange a look, and Mancuso shrugs.
Mancuso: I don't know, man. We want to kick his ass as badly as you do, but we haven't seen him. This ridiculous little show is the ticket, though.
Shaman: Do you even know what this thing is?
Korver: It doesn't matter. The guy isn't that scary that we'd crap our pants at the prospect of his tortuous methods or anything.
Shaman appears placated for now and turns to leave, but he turns back just before he leaves.
Shaman: What I'm going to do to The Cog tonight is going to be a sneak preview of what you two are going to feel at Meltdown, by the way. I suggest you watch my hands at work and flee in terror accordingly.
He finally turns and leaves, and the two friendly rivals share another glance.
Jack: The hunt for The Cog is on, I suppose! What is the Clockwork Corner?
Denrol: I'm sure it's going to be awesome!
Camera cuts backstage where Wallace Coleman is standing, talking to someone, possibly a production assistant. They are looking at a sheet of paper, discussing whatever is on it. The view is such that we see a hallway behind them. A door opens down the hall, and it is Mr. Mystery, mask and wrestling gear, who steps through. He spots Coleman with his back turned. With a big smile, he tip toes down towards him. When he gets close enough, he grabs him from behind and screams.
Mr. Mystery: RRRRAAAWWRRR!
Coleman: Ahhh!
Coleman jumps almost a foot in the air and Mr. Mystery bursts into laughter. Even the man Coleman was talking to, whom also jumped, starts to laugh. Coleman seems a little annoyed, but puts on a brave face.
Coleman: Wow Mystery, you really scared me there.
Mr. Mystery I know! That was a good one! You shoulda' seen the look on your face! What are you so jumpy for?
Coleman: I'm not jumpy.
Mr. Mystery: Whatever, man. Listen, I want to do an interview.
Coleman hesitates a moment, looking from the man, who shrugs, to Mr. Mystery, who gives an enthusiastic thumbs up.
Coleman: Right now?
Mr. Mystery: No, tomorrow. Yeah right now!
Not knowing what else to do, Coleman relents. He says goodbye to the man and turns to Mr. Mystery.
Coleman: Um, I don't have a microphone.
Mr. Mystery: Just act like you have one. And smile for the camera.
Coleman half heartedly smiles as he holds his hand to his mouth as if he really does have a microphone.
Coleman: Fans, I'm here with WWA newcomer, Mr. Mystery. Tonight, he has a match against-
Mr. Mystery: Joshua Curtis! Tonight me and you face off, one on one! We haven't met in the ring yet, but you can bet that I will pin you! A lot of people have been commenting on *holds up fingers for quotes* "my lack of skill." All I have to say about that, is that I'm 2-0! That means, I am undefeated! That also means, that I haven't lost! Which also means, tonight Joshua, I am going to defeat YOU!
Mr. Mystery stops and turns to Coleman, giving him a thumbs up again.
Mr. Mystery How was that?
Coleman: Wonderful, I guess.
Mr. Mystery: Bet your weet ass it was! WAHOO!
Coleman is speechless as Mr. Mystery turns and runs away, cheering "WAHOO!" at the top of his lungs. Someone exits the same door Mr. Mystery came from, and when Mr. Mystery sees them he runs up to them and screams in their face.
Mr. Mystery RRRRAAAWWWRRR!
They jump back, frightened Mr. Mystery is going to hurt them, but he just continues on, laughing and still cheering "WAHOO!" Coleman shakes his head with bewilderment.
Jack: We’re prepared for Mr. Mystery against Joshua Curtis. Curtis is on a little skid, and Mr. Mystery is well…
Denrol: Terrible? Seeing him wrestle makes me question my retirement.
Jack: He’s not that bad…
Denrol: I hope Curtis destroys him. Can’t say I’m a fan of his, but Mystery should be barred from my ring.
Jack: Your ring?
Denrol: You heard me.
That old familiar guitar from "Who Are You?" by The Who begins. Right as Roger Daltry starts singing, out comes Mr. Mystery. He is very energetic, raising his arms in the air, dancing to the music. He struts down the aisle, slapping almost every single hand on the left side from the entrance to the ring. When he reaches the ring, he walks up the steps and climbs through the ropes. He heads to the corner and jumps to the second rope, holding up three fingers, pointing them down to make two M's. The fans give lukewarm cheers before he jumps down.
Trudeau: First to the ring…Wearing in at 215 pounds…Mr. Mysteryyyyyyyy!
Denrol: Whoever is responsible for this guy being in a WWA ring needs to be fired.
Jack: Don’t be so tough on him.
Denrol: Why not? Everyone wants to love the cute guy, the guys that will make you laugh, but when it gets down to it the WWA is serious business. I don’t appreciate someone like him taking the WWA lightly.
Joshua Curtis comes out from the back to a lukewarm response from the crowd. He’s being escorted by the valet Brooke Evans. Curtis slides into the ring, eyeballing Mr. Mystery who bounces on his toes in his corner. Curtis plays to the crowd for a few moments.
Trudeau: His opponent also weighing in at a popular 215 pounds…He is…Joshua Curtissss!
Jack: This is a big match for Curtis; he’s shown improvement in each of his past few matches. Despite the rumors you hear backstage, he is on the cusp of turning around his fortunes.
Denrol: Hey if Roethlisberger can get off with questionable sexual conduct, anything can happen.
Jack: You went there?
Denrol: Yes I did.
Jack: Well there’s the bell and this match is underway!
Both men begin to circle each other, Curtis refuses to look Mystery in eye keeping his view on his feet. After a few moments the two come together in a Collar-Elbow tie up. Mystery quickly throws Curtis into an Arm Wringer, with a flash of technical prowess he takes Curtis down to the mat with an Elevated Reverse Armbar, better know as the Fujiwara Armbar.
Jack: That’s an impressive hold there, he’s wrenching back on Curtis’ arm.
Denrol: That didn’t last long Curtis quickly wraps his arm around the bottom rope.
Jack: Mystery forced to release the hold. He did catch Curtis by surprise though.
Mystery quickly breaks the hold. Curtis pops up to a knee, a look of shock on his face. He underestimated Mystery, he gets to his feet nodding his head. The two circle once more, Mystery shoots in for another tie up, he’s met with a Toe Kick to his abdomen that doubles the Human Slam Dummy over. Curtis pushes Mystery to back to an uptight position before knocking him down with a hard Knife Edge Chop! The shot echoes through the arena.
Denrol: Ouch, that shot had some venom, some glass, and a little bit of salt to add to the pain.
Jack: Where did you come up with that?
Denrol: I’m pretty creative.
Jack: Curtis continues his advantage and fires another Knife Edge Chop into Mystery.
Curtis immediately backs a stunned Mystery into the ropes, he whips him across the ring before firing off the ropes himself. As they approach each other in the center of the ring Curtis dives through the air drilling Mystery in the nose with a hard Flying Back Elbow that takes him down to the mat.
Jack: Very impressive move there from Curtis! He has a mission and a focus tonight.
Curtis goes for the pinfall, hooking Mystery’s far leg.
One!
Two!
Mystery shoots his shoulder up at the last instant, still showing the after effects of the Back Elbow. Curtis immediately pulls Mystery back to his feet, firing a Right Hand into the side of his head.
Denrol: Curtis almost won this match with that Back Elbow. I want him to run Mystery out of the WWA.
Jack: Curtis with another Right Hand backs Mystery into the ropes. He’s staying right on top of his opponent tonight.
Denrol: As he should.
Curtis Toe Kicks Mystery into the abdomen, again doubling him over. Mystery already looks like he’s had enough. Curtis grabs him by the back of the mask and sends him face first into the top turnbuckle. Mystery slumps onto the turnbuckle with little movement. Curtis presses his advantage and again slams Mystery’s head into the top turnbuckle causing his opponent to slump even more. Curtis turns Mystery around and sends him into the opposite turnbuckles with an Irish Whip. Or is it an English Whip? It seems like every country wants credit for tossing your opponent by the arm into an object.
Jack: This isn’t looking so good for Mr. Mystery. Curtis has him in a bad way.
Denrol: This match is actually curing my bad mood. Thank you Joshua Curtis for finally doing something right!
Curtis charges the corner, Mystery somehow manages to raise his foot. Curtis slams into it and is momentarily stunned by the impact. Mystery comes to life and throws a few Right Hands towards Curtis…Unfortunately; they aren’t what I would call Golden Glove level.
Jack: Those Right Hands aren’t going to have much effect on Curtis.
Denrol: Disqualify him! Those are more illegal than a chair shot!
Jack: I don’t know about that.
Curtis cuts Mystery off with a Knee into his abdomen that momentarily drops Mystery to a knee. Curtis times Mystery, spins around and drops him with an impactful Discuss Clothesline. He quickly attempts another pinfall.
One!
Two!
Thr!
Denrol: Curtis almost had him there.
Jack: Mystery shot his shoulder off the mat at the last instant there. I’m not sure how much Mystery has left.
Denrol: I hope not. I want this over with.
Curtis pulls the near limp Mystery off the mat. He’s quickly surprised as Mystery somehow rolls him up in a Small Package!
Denrol: What the?
One!
Two!
Three!
Ding, Ding!
Denrol: You’re kidding…
Jack: Mr. Mystery pulled that one out of nowhere! After all he is from the…
Denrol: Don’t say it.
Trudeau: Your winner of the match…Mr…Mystery!
Curtis looks shocked as Mystery lies on the mat unaware of where he is or what just happened.
Jack: Wait, watch out!
Jack’s pleas are to Curtis, who is suddenly sent crashing to the canvas from a brutal chair shot to the back. Standing over him is one Albert Drabble.
Denrol: Payback’s a you know what, Jack, that’s what Curtis gets for freaking Drabble’s woman out.
Jack: Speaking of the devil…
A gleeful smile on her face, Julia skips down to the ring.
Jack: This Julia is quite the, umm…
Denrol: Slut?
Jack: Woman, I was going to say.
Albert stands over Curtis, as Julia enters the ring. She runs at Drabble and hugs him tightly, the big man just standing there motionless. Finally letting go, she points at Curtis, who is starting to get up.
Julia: Hit him again! Again!
On command, Albert hoists the chair up high over his head and slams it down with brute force, straight across Curtis’ back again.
Jack: Wow.
Denrol: For a fat guy, Drabble has some strength.
Julia screams in pleasure, it breaking into an excited giggle.
Julia: Again, Albert, hit him again.
Again, Albert brings the chair down on Curtis’ back.
Jack: Drabble seems quite content on doing Julia’s bidding and, after Curtis scared Julia last week, this was to be expected.
Julia takes the chair from Albert’s hands and throws it to the mat. She links her arm inside his and they both watch Curtis try to climb to his feet. While Julia watches on with excitement, Drabble’s expression remains cold and indifferent. Finally, Curtis starts to get to his feet. Drabble pushes Julia aside and, as Curtis is standing, lunges at him.
Jack: The Roulette Wheel!
Drabble’s devastating Roaring Elbow connects squarely with Curtis’ jaw, and the young star crumbles back down to the ground. Julia cries in joy again, clapping her hands.
Denrol: I like this guy.
Jack: You like him using a chair on an innocent wrestler?
Denrol: Yeah!
Jack: Well, Albert Drabble has certainly sent a severe warning, but I don’t think Joshua Curtis will lie quietly – the match at Meltdown between these two men suddenly means so much more.
Jack: Well up next, we have a training video from Jevon White.
Denrol: Yes. Longest 5 hours of my life.
Jack: Right. Well anyway, here it is.
The video opens to in front of the Colisée Pepsi Arena in Quebec City. The site of the next stop in the WWA Canadian tour on pay-per-view on Meltdown is set to air in almost less than a week from now.
Cut to: WWA Legend, Gorden "Denrol" Korth is standing and leaning up against an SUV in front of the arena quietly. He pulls out his cell phone and dials a number.
Changing views, to another location somewhere Quebec City is WWA wrestler, Jevon Alexander White. Who has just stepped out from a local gym after finishing what appears to have been a pretty grueling workout that he is preparing for when he faces his rival "The Canadian Crusader" Bruce Pepin. The stakes are high for White -- if Pepin wins, Jevon will have to relocate and defect to Canada with his family. His cell phone rings as he reaches into his pocket to answer it.
White: County Morgue, you count'em, we slab'em.
Denrol: God you're an idiot. Where you at?
White: Just finishing my work out. I'm coming out of the gym right now. Where you at?
Denrol: I'm at the arena. Meet me there...like as in right now.
White: What? You gotta be out of your damn fool. That's gotta be like a mile away. What do you want me to do jump into telephone booth and turn into Superman?
Denrol: Try two miles away, and yeah sure. You want me to train ya?
White: No, but do you want me to stay out of Canada?
Denrol: Obviously.
White: Quid Pro Quo. I wanna win against Pepin. You don't wanna me to live in Canada. Our goals align.
Denrol: I know and this is a little game that I like to called how well do you really know about this city so far? So how well do you know it...GeVon?
White: Enough...so far.
Denrol: Good, then this little exercise shouldn't be a problem for you then. You objective is to get to me in under five minutes here at the Colisée Pepsi.
White: I just done working out. Do I have time to re-stretch before I begin?
Denrol: No, idiot. GO NOW! I have another engagement to get to so I suggest that you haul ass....before you start cramping up. Clocking is ticking Mr. White. You have five minutes. Go-Go-Go.
Denrol hangs up his cell phone.
White: Canadian bastard.
Jevon puts his duffle bag across his shoulder and chest and swings to where it is behind him. Does a deep breath as he looks panning around to see his surroundings and survey the closed quarter layout of the city of Quebec City then takes off running down down the streets before the five minute count expires and Denrol-his coach leaves.
Music queue up, "Resistant" by Iron Sy as Jevon is running then following the compass and his direction, taking a little shortcut as he begins doing urban free running/Park'our up and over objects,wall running, and jumping up ladders and running on top of building jumping over alleyways as the song plays.
on veut m'formater, artiste qui passe partout
on veut qu'fasse des singles sur des bit de cartoon
on veut qu'ferme ma gueule on bref monte on casse tout
Jevon jumps over hurdling a park bench where a nice old couple enjoy their own company right before White cuts between what was supposed to be their kiss. Jevon just keeps running and not looking back or apologizing.
mais on laisse parlé les trav' et les babtous
j'changerais pas c'est comme voir Bush avec un chapelet
c'est comme voir mon frère Doum fréné a Chapelet
impossible qu'Iron devient, une saleté
audiovisuel comme les 3/4 du rap français
Jevon White hits a wall, Wall runs up the wall and catches a ladder of a fire escape as he climbs the ladder up to the top of the building continuing the run toward the direction of the arena.
j'suis
un résistant, résistant, résistant, mais quoi?
un résistant, résistant, résistant, mais quoi?
un résistant, résistant, résistant, mais quoi?
un militant devant la foule j'hésite pas
Jevon hits a long gap between two buildings and hits the edge, jumping over the gap, the camera picks it up in slow motion while he is in mid air and Jevon lands on the other building, does a foward roll and bounces up to his feet and keeps running on toward the arena.
j'suis fiancé a la rue, mais j'vais pas l'épouser
j'veux m'barrer d'cette vie j'pense a t'faire danser
mon rap culture une touche de vérité
je sais c'que j'écris et j'évite de m'emporter
j'ai tué personnes comme Michel Fournirai
y'a pas d'sérial killer qui traine dans mon quartier
trop d'rappeurs, on chiés, sur le hip-hop
les culs mal lavés c'est pas ta place à skyrock
Jevon runs to the edge of another building, he jumps, nearly almost misses it but his hands quickly grab a hold of the edge to the top of the building, Jevon then pulls himself right back up and lands on his feet as he keeps on running for the clock is ticking.
dans l'rap çai-fran aucun n'est millionaire
y'a qu'des frimeurs qui rapent pour des fuminaires
tous on des traces de giffles sur les non-per
baisé par les majeurs frieurs de p'tites carrieres
les médias s'aproprient, notre cultures hors-berne
la cultures française est les morte j'lai mis dans la benne
avec les lois, les flics et la ... Lepen
la tole, le fisc, et la double-BM
on peut pas m'chager c'est comme raser Bin-Laden
j'naratte c'que j'vois c'que j'vis j'touche à tout thèmes
j'lutte pour qu'on m'écoute pas pour qu'on m'suce le sgueg
le jour ou j'tourne ma veste moi-même j'me coupe les veines
Jevon sees another fire escape ladder, slides down the ladder down to the next level below him and runs down the hallway to the end of the hallway, he dives out of the window, catches a rope hanging from the top and then brings himself back to the wall, runs on the side while holding the rope then grabs the rope with both hands and shimmies his way back up to the top of the building and continues running.
Mon but c'est d'marquer la conscience des gens
mon a album un brelic qui s'lit avec les tympans
j'suis, un résistant devant la foule j'hésite pas
pour cracher mes phrases, écrire ces lettres la
vous étiez jamais ... tout ceux qu'on mentit
Iron l'élu j'me fait sainte par trénity
je chie, sur la célibriter
j'conduis mon rap mon état d'débriliter
joko sur joko j'écris la vérité
j'vis pas l'guettho depuis ma première récré
j'ai jamais rédis, dans la r'cherche j'avoue
trop joue les voyoux et après passe aux aveux
Jevon can see the arena in front and below him. He sees Denrol below him in front of his car looking at his watch. Jevon sees a nearby tree, he hits the edge, jumps off the building and onto a branch on the tree then shimmies down the tree to the bottom and jumps down right behind Denrol. Jevon, who is breathing hard, but still is controling his breath taps Denrol right on the shoulder. Denrol turns around to greet Jevon, although a bit surprised, Denrol doesn't let on whatsoever. At the close of the song, it fades out.
Denrol: What took you so long?
Jevon doesn't saything verbally, but through his eyes and facial expressions, you see this look that crosses Jevon's face that blatantly says it all.
Denrol: Oh wipe that look off your face before I slap it off. Let's talk Jevon. I'll tell ya what else you need to know about Pepin and what it REALLY takes to beat someone like him...Can't believe I'm selling out a fellow Canadian...even if he is from the hellhole of Quebec.
Jevon and Denrol walk in the direction of the arena.
Denrol: So, Country of Champions you call it...
The video fades out on Jevon and Denrol as they talk to one another. We return to the commentators.
Jack: Impressive.
Denrol: Please. Getting this idiot a victory may be the toughest thing I've ever done. Life would be easier if I had to just herd some cats.
Jack: Well either way, at Meltdown, it will be Bruce Pepin vs Jevon White.
Denrol: The pride of Canada on the line.
Jack: One of the bi...
Jack's words trail off as we suddenly cut to a close-up of Jevon White's face. A voice suddenly starts talking...a voice with a Scottish accent.
Voice: Martin Luther King Jr. once said that the ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy. But, does that including beating yoor wife like Jevon White has?
Words are stamped onto White's imposed head.
FACT
Voice: Ask yoorself if this is the kind of man yoo want to support. Ask yoorself if yoo want to cheer for a man who once was arrested by police for stealing medical marijuana -- an legal drug, used in an illegal manner!
We cut to White up in the air for Bruce Pepin's E.L.E. on Underground a few weeks ago.
FACT
Voice: Ask yoorself if a man who once was caught masturbating at a children's party while he was dressed as a clown is the kind of man yoo want to see winning at a World Wrestling Alliance pay-per-view.
Another close-up of White, in clown make-up.
FACT
Voice: Yoo obviously don't. Yoo want to cheer for a hero; a man on a mission. A mission to save professional wrestling from itself. Come Meltdown, raise yoor hands into the air and sway then from side-to-side in support of the Canadian Crew-Sadar. Not a clown who beats off while high on marijuana and then goes home and smashes his wife's face in.
The camera changes to Bruce Pepin, standing proudly in front of a Canadian flag.
Voice: Bruce Pepin. The people's choice.
Paid for by the Committee to Spread the Truth About Villains, and Sean Connery. This announcement has not been endorsed by Bruce Pepin or anyone affiliated with him.
The video ends.
Jack: I think we’re now setting up for our first tag match of the night.
Denrol: Sweet!
Trudeau: The following tag-team match is scheduled for one fall. Hailing first, from St. Pauls, Minnesota, weighing in at two-hundred and thirty two pounds.
"Head like a hole" by NiN begins to play over the PA system and the crowd are already getting to their feet to show anger.
"Bow down before the one you serve!"
"You're going to get what you deserve!"
Trudeau: He is the Second Generation... Gregggggg Segierrrr!
From out the back, Greg emerges walking to the ring, he seems to take an "I don't care" attitude towards the ring, ignoring every jibe and comment by fans nearby. Walking up the steps, Greg casually ducks through the top and second rope, cocking his head from left to right, he enters the ring and lets the music speak for itself.
Trudeau: And his partner…
Inside the arena, the lights dim down as the start of "O Canada" begins to play. There is a loud chorus of cheers in response as red lights illuminate the stage.
Jack: We all know who’s coming, but the Canadian fans can’t help showing approval of this anthem.
The song switches abruptly into "Holding Out For a Hero" by Emery. From backstage emerges the "Canadian Panty Soaker" Bruce Pepin. Wearing a black vest and his customary Canadian trunks, he walks to the ring with a purpose.
Where have all the good men gone and where are all the Gods?
Where's the street wise Hercules to fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need
Pepin hits the ring, acknowledging the presence of his tag partner, before stomping back and forth and signaling to the crowd. His smile shines as flashes fill the sky. Pepin pumps his first in the air and yells out 'we can do this, together!' Segier raises one eyebrow in confusion.
Trudeau: …from Montreal, Quebec, Canada…at 5’11’’ and weighing 218lb…THE CANADIAN CRUSADER…BRUCE PEPIN!!
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero till the end of the night
he's gotta be strong and he's gotta be fast
and he's gotta be fresh from the fight, fresh from the fight
Bruce gets into the ring, taking his vest of and launching it and launching it out of the ring. Pepin moves towards Segier and extends a hand.
Jack: It looks like Bruce Pepin is trying to make new friends.
Denrol: Ugh.
Cautiously, Segier shakes his hand, the crowd responding with boos.
Trudeau: And their opponents…coming to the ring first…
Some eerie guitar music begins to play over the speakers, but immediately breaks in to a faster beat. The lights have begun to have a strobe effect, and the stage entrance is back lit. The fans start cheering, since they've all figured out that the music in question is "Savior" by 30 Seconds to Mars.
Until you crash
Until you burn
Until you lie
Until you learn
Until you see
Until you believe
Out in to the back lighting, a man walks. He seems to be wearing a trench coat, and is dressed in very dark attire, potentially all black, but whatever it is, it seems to be pants and a tee shirt. The strobe effect makes it seem like he's walking in stop-motion as he stands at the top of the ramp.
Until you fight
Until you fall
Until the end of everything at all
Until you die
Until you’re alive
The lights all come up to reveal that the man on the ramp is Nicholas Adams, and the fans begin to cheer. He's wearing a grin that seems almost too big to humanly possess, and also happens to be wearing black face paint that forms ovals around his eyes, with a thick, pointed red line on either side, as well as red triangular shapes above and below the bridge of his nose. He begins to make his way down the ramp, slapping hands with some fans as he does so.
Don’t save me, don’t save me,
'Cause I don't care.
Don't save me, don't save me
'Cause I don't care!
Trudeau: …from Seattle, Washington, weighing in at two-hundred and twenty-five pounds - "THE RAINMAKER" NICHOLAS ADAMS!
The fans cheer even more loudly at hearing him announced, and Adams, in a burst of enthusiasm, runs the rest of the way to the ring, mounting the exterior of one of the ring posts before catapulting himself up, over, and in to the ring.
Jack: And Greg Segier hightails it!
As rightly pointed out by Jack, Segier slides immediately out of the ring, not wanting any part of Nick Adams.
Denrol: He’s merely showing Nick Adams respect in letting him enter the ring peacefully.
Jack: I think fear might be a better word than respect, don’t you think?
Denrol: I don’t, actually.
Jack: Well, y- What one earth is Pepin doing?
Pepin moves a couple of steps towards Adams, his hand extended with a broad smile.
Jack: Pepin seemingly showing some good sportsmanship.
Adams stares at the hand, then up at Pepin’s grinning face, then back down at his hand, a curious grin on his face.
HEEEHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
"WATCH THIS!"
At the sound of Jevon White’s voice, Pepin’s smile disappears and his request for a handshake is quickly forgotten.The WWAtron queues up a a explosive video package of Jevon White hitting numerous aerial moves on several known and unknown opponents. The main arena lights dim to almost to a near black out, but not quite only to be replaced with white strobelights, that start slow but then pick up as the song picks up in speed and intensity with an explosive blast of talented three electric guitar solos.
Music queue up: the beginning intro heavy guitar rifts of "Watch This" by Slash.
Mister Jevon White runs out from the black curtain and onto the stage to a nice pop from the arena crowd. He jogs down the aisle slapping as many outstretched hands as he possibly can enroute to the ring.
Trudeau: And his partner…hailing from St. Louis, Missouri. Weighing in at 235 lbs...THE EPITOME OF DESTINY! MR SERENDIPITY! JEEEEEEEVVVVVVOOOONNNNN ALEXANDER WWWWWHHHHIIIIITTTTTTEEEEEEE!
Mister White arrives at ringside. He jumps up onto the ring apron and then vaults himself over the top rope doing a half reverse cartwheel flip into the ring.
Jack: And now it’s Pepin’s turn to leave the ring.
The Canadian Crusader climbs quickly out of the ring as soon as White’s feet touch the canvas, and he joins Segier on the outside. Jevon runs to each of the four turnbuckles soaking in the cheers of the crowd. On the final turnbuckle he jumps down and claims that rope as his turnbuckle. He removes his shirt exposing his nice firm chisled toned body to the pop of many girls in the crowd as they respond in unisone and his Oakley sunglasses. He slaps hands with Adams, exchanging a few pre-match pleasantries.
Jack: White and Adams are clearly on the same page tonight. Time will tell if Pepin and Segier can say the same.
Denrol: Is that cynicism, Jacky boy?
Jack: A touch.
"Watch This" slowly fades out, as the referee tells Segier and Pepin to get in to start the match. Both men are reluctant to get in, instead complaining about the two men in the ring. The referee pushes Adams and White back, who are more than happy to oblige, leaving the ring open for their opponents.
Denrol: Nick Adams and Jevon White should be disqualified for not letting this match get started and holding everything up?
Jack: Nick Adams and Jevon White…?
Denrol: Yes. Textbook cheating tactics.
Jack: What about the two men standing outside the ring?
Denrol: Strategy briefing.
Finally, with some caution, both Pepin and Segier climb into the ring. Jevon White has already left the ring and stands on the apron, letting The Rainmaker start. Seeing this, Greg Segier is quick to exit the ring himself.
Jack: I don’t Greg Segier wants to be in the ring with Nicholas Adams.
Denrol: He’s keeping Adams healthy, is all.
Jack: Sure.
Ding, Ding!
With the call for the bell, the referee finally gets the match underway. Pepin and Adams slowly edge towards each other, neither man letting his guard down in front of the other. That is, until, Pepin drops his arms, smiles broadly and holds his right hand out again.
Jack: Again?
Adams puts his hands on his waist, shaking his head in disbelief; Pepin, meanwhile, is almost frozen in his stance. Cautiously, Adams extends his own hand and the two men shake.
Denrol: Get your cameras out, ladies and gentlemen.
There is a brief handshake, before Pepin suddenly pulls Adams towards him for a short-arm clothesline. Much the wiser, though, Adams ducks underneath the lariat.
Jack: Neckbreaker from Nick Adams and Pepin is down!
The crowd roar with approval as Pepin hits the mat. The Canadian immediately jumps to his feet and backs off. Unfortunately, he backs off towards the wrong corner. He turns just in time to see White glaring back at him, and backs off the other way before Jevon can get a hold of him. The inconvenience is that he backs off straight back at Adams.
Jack: And Bruce Pepin hits the mat hard again with a back body drop.
Clutching his back, Pepin rolls quickly away and slides out of the ring. Straight away, Jevon climbs off the apron and starts to run around the ring towards Pepin; noticing this, the Canadian slides quickly back into the ring, right into a right hand from Nick Adams.
Jack: Not a good start from the Canadian here.
Denrol: Giving Canadians a bad rep again!
Adams picks Pepin up from the hair and whips him into the ropes. Pepin bounces off the ropes and is met with a flying cross-body, Adams following up with an early cover.
One!
Jack: Pepin kicks out easily there. He won’t go down that easily.
Adams picks Pepin up by grabbing the hair again and puts him in a tight side head-lock. Jevon slaps the turnbuckle hard, signalling his desperation to enter the match. Adams follows suit and starts to drag Pepin towards his corner. A rabid struggle from Pepin allows the Canadian to break free of the headlock and, as Adams tags White in, Pepin has already sprinted to his corner and tagged Segier in.
Jack: Pepin wants nothing to do with Jevon White here.
Denrol: Damn French-Canadian!
Jack: And Segier wants nothing to do with Nick Adams. Not the best strategy from these two men.
Denrol: Psh.
Segier enters the ring with his eyes locked on White, who smirks back. The two men meet in the centre of the ring, Segier greeting Jevon with a tight slap to the face.
Denrol: Ouch!
Jack: That’s probably not the best way to get Jevon’s attention.
Jevon rubs his newly-slapped cheek and looks out at the crowd, winking with a grin. Suddenly he lets loose with a flurry of right and left hands, pushing Segier back with each blow. Once Segier is teetered over the ropes, Jevon grabs his wrist and attempts an Irish whip. Segier manages to reverse, however, and Jevon rebounds off the ropes. Before Segier can attempt anything, though, Jevon has leapt off his feet, smacking Segier with a pitch-perfect flying elbow.
Jack: Beautiful!
Denrol: Eh. Average.
Both men climb to their feet at the same time, but Jevon is still the one in control. Again, he jumps up and rattles Segier with a standing front dropkick. Segier stumbles back helplessly and crashes into the turnbuckle. Jevon runs at Segier into the corner, but Segier manages to duck and hit a back body drop.
Jack: Jevon White floats over and lands on the apron.
Segier turns to see what damage he has done, only to be met with an uppercut to the face. As he stumbles into the centre of the ring, Jevon springboards off the top rope.
Jack: Springboard hurrincarana!
Denrol: That had to hurt.
Jack: Within seconds, this match has moved from first to fifth gear!
There is a huge round of cheers from the Canadian fans as White hits the hurrincarana. For whatever reason, Segier is back on his feet but clearly disorientated. Jevon tags Adams in, who jumps in and charges at Segier. This time, though, Segier pulls the referee in the way and stops Adams short.
Jack: Come on!
Denrol: What? The referee got in the way.
Jack: The referee got put in the way.
Denrol: Tomayto. Tomaato.
Adams tries to get the referee out of the way and this temporary lack of focus from the referee allows Segier to poke the former World champion in the eye.
Jack: And you have an excuse for that too?
Denrol: Slip of the hand?
Jack: Shut up.
Adams holds his hands up to his face, being momentarily blinded. Seizing his chance, Segier clotheslines him to the floor and quickly tags himself out. Pepin climbs into the ring as Adams is getting back to his feet.
Jack: Side Russian Leg Sweep!
Adams’ head collides off the canvas as the crowd boo collectively. Keeping Adams on the ground, Pepin executes a succession of knee drops to the chest.
Jack: Thanks to cheating on Greg Segier’s part, Bruce Pepin is now in control.
Denrol: Whatever works, Jacky. Did you learn nothing from my career?
After some hard kicks to the ribs, causing Adams to wince in pain, Pepin lifts him up to his feet. Keeping him under control with some kicks to the gut, Pepin whips Adams into the corner. The Canadian Crusader runs at Adams and smacks him with a clothesline; in one fluid movement, the clothesline is followed by a sweet belly-to-belly suplex onto the mat, finished off with a hook of the leg.
One!
Two!
Jack: And easy kickout there from Adams.
Denrol: It won’t get any easier.
Pepin drags Adams into the centre of the ring and nails him with an elbow drop to the sternum, keeping the Rainmaker on the mat. He motions Segier for a tag, but his partner does not accept.
Jack: Segier is scared of getting in the ring, Denny.
Denrol: He’s just fatigued.
Pepin, to his credit, is not too annoyed by this and resumes his offensive. He holds Adams down on his back with his foot, before executing a sweet leg drop across the sternum. The continual punishment to his ribs causes Adams to moan in pain, Segier watching on in glee. Pepin lifts Adams up and tries to whip him into the corner; Adams manages to counter, though, and Pepin’s back lands hard against the turnbuckle. Adams charges after Pepin, but the Canadian moves out of the way. To a groan from the audience, Adams crashes sternum-first into the turnbuckle. Stunned, Adams pedals back.
Jack: German suplex from the Canadian Crusader! That was beautifully delivered.
The momentum of the move forces Adams back onto his feet but Pepin is one step ahead, sending the Rainmaker back to the ground with an enziguri to the back of the head. As the crowd boo at Adams’ misfortune, Pepin goes for another cover.
One!
Two!
Adams kicks out, but he is clearly shaken up from the flurry of offence he has endured. The camera cuts to Segier, who is now screaming to be let into the ring.
Jack: Oh, now he wants to!
Denrol: He has his breath back.
Pepin tags Segier in who, with an evil grin, begins to stalk around the fallen Adams. Segier keeps a distance but, every so often, smacks Adams with a right boot as the former champ tries to get up. Segier starts taunting Adams, challenging him to get up. Ever the hero, Adams does his best to get up. He eventually gets as far as standing on one knee before Segier lunges at him again; unfortunately for Segier though, Adams blocks it and holds on to his leg.
Denrol: Uh oh.
Segier’s eyes widen in horror as Adams starts to rise to his feet. Somehow, though, Segier manages to counter with an enziguri and Adams falls back to the ground. Frantically, Segier runs back to his corner and Pepin is tagged back in.
Jack: Segier nearly got caught there.
Denrol: He responded with intelligence.
Jack: He ran like a mule.
Denrol: An intelligent mule.
Pepin is quick to get back onto the offensive; as Adams starts to climb back to his feet, Pepin sends him back down with a bulldog, before making the cover.
One!
Tw-
Jevon runs into the ring and kicks Pepin in the head, breaking the count. The referee is quick on the mark, lecturing White.
Denrol: Pfft. Cheater.
Jack: Jevon White is desperate to get back into the ring, but it doesn’t look likely right now.
While the ref admonishes Jevon, Pepin drags Adams towards his corner. Segier re-enters the ring too and both men start to pummel away at Adams with stuff boots to the body. Pepin slaps his hands loudly, pretending a tag has been made, and exits the ring. Segier continues to kick away at Adams as the ref returns to the action inside the ring. The kicks are followed up by knee strikes to the side of the head. Maybe moreso out of hope than anything else, Segier goes for the cover.
One!
Two!
Adams kicks out, and tries to jump to his feet, albeit groggily. Segier is ready and waiting, however, and hits a stiff belly to back suplex. Adams lies on the mat, holding his head and writhing in pain. Segier stands tall over his Meltdown opponent, smirking with his arms raised.
Denrol: That right there, Jacky, is a triumphant man.
Jack: Easy to call yourself that when someone else does the dirty work.
Rather than cheer Segier, the fans in attendance rally behind Adams, chanting his name. Adams starts to stir, seemingly gaining energy from the chanting of his name. Segier, meanwhile, shows frustration at the lack of respect for him, and starts to yell at random fans.
Denrol: Segier is demanding the honour that he deserves. For Canadians, they sure are a little disr-
Jack: Lightning Strike!!
There is a massive cheer around the arena at what just happened – in the space of seconds, Adams kips to his feet and smacks Segier in the face. Both men now lie motionless in the ring, as a fresh round of rallying from the fans ensues. Jevon also joins in now, clapping his hands in encouragement, and the crowd claps along too.
Jack: The tide of this match has turned instantly, and Jevon White is begging for the tag!
White has his arm outstretched as far as it can physically go, as Adams starts toe dge slowly towards his corner. Similarly, Segier starts to worm towards Pepin.
Jack: This is literally a race, Denny.
Denrol: I didn’t come here to see a race.
Both men are close to their tag partner. Much to the approval to the fans, Adams is able to kip up a second time and leaps at Jevon, making the tag. On the other side of the ring, Pepin realizes that White has entered the ring and refuses the tag from Segier, who stands there dumbfounded. Pepin backs off the apron, shaking his head. Frustrated that his tag has been refused, Segier climbs to his feet and turns around. White runs at him with a clothesline attempt, but Segier manages to duck underneath. White continues his run and runs effortlessly up the turnbuckle.
Jack: The Bullet Timer!
Denrol: Lord almighty!
Jack: Jevon White connects with a brutal roundhouse kick to Greg Segier’s face.
Jevon kips back to his feet, adrenaline rushing through him. He leans over the ropes and screams at Pepin to get into the ring, but the Canadian Crusader stays put where he is. Jevon turns his attention back to Segier, picking him up and whipping him into the turnbuckle. Jevon charges at his opponent, jumping for an attempted monekyflip. Segier manages to hold on to Jevon though, and, with a good degree of power, turns Jevon around and sits him up on the top turnbuckle.
Jack: Hard uppercut to the chin from Greg Segier…and again!
The two uppercuts have Jevon dazed, giving Segier the chance to climb the turnbuckle himself.
Denrol: Get those cameras out again!
Segier climbs up until he is level with Jevon. After some right hands to the sternum, Segier tries for a superplex. White has it scouted though and keeps himself rooted on the turnbuckle. Segier tries again and, again, Jevon refuses to budge. White smacks Segier twice in the face and pushes him off the top, Segier crashing hard onto the mat.
Jack: Jevon’s going aerial!
The crowd gasp as Jevon launches off the turnbuckle, hitting Segier square across the chest with an inch-perfect top-rope leg drop. Immediately, the former tag champion goes for the cover.
One!
Two!
Th-
Jack: Bruce Pepin with the save.
An axe-handle smash breaks the cover, as Pepin arrives just in time. Pepin continues to lay shots into Jevon, who is trying to block them. Pepin drags Jevon to his feet and whips him into the ropes. Jevon uses the ropes as a springboard though and gasps come from the crowd again as Jevon leaps backwards with an amazing somersault, hooking the leg.
Denrol: He’s not the legal man, you idiot!
The referee is also aware of this and refuses to make the count. Jevon’s frustration is short-lived and he turns his attention back to Pepin, but that is short-lived too as Segier enters the fray again. He grabs Jevon from behind and delivers a beautifully brutal German suplex.
Jack: Jevon White’s might just have broken his neck.
Denrol: So sad.
Jack: And now Segier is directing traffic!
As Jack points out, Segier is directing Pepin to the turnbuckle. Pepin climbs the buckle as Segier holds Jevon down.
Jack: Here comes help!
Nicholas Adams reappears, to cheers from the crowd. First he clotheslines Segier to the mat, and then turns his focus to Pepin, who is standing completely helpless on the top turnbuckle. Adams runs up the turnbuckle and throws Pepin to the canvas with a great top-rope arm drag. As the fans cheer, Pepin slides across and out of the ring, landing onto the concrete with a thud. When Adams gets to his feet, slightly off-balance himself, he is met by Segier, who kicks him in the gut.
Jack: Evil Killer!
Denrol: Nick Adams is out!
Quickly, Segier goes for the cover. The referee refuses to count though.
Denrol: Count, you fool!
Jack: Adams isn’t the legal man!
Enraged, Segier argues the referee. Not getting anywhere, he moves back to Adams and attempts the figure-four leg lock. Adams is able to counter though, pushing Segier away with his free leg. Segier stumbles into the now-standing Jevon, who grabs him from the head and throws him up and out of the ring.
Jack: This is crazy! Bruce Pepin and Greg Segier both out of the ring, and Jevon White and Nicholas Adams are both in the ring!
Denrol: You can see. Well done.
Suddenly, Jevon sprints across the ring and leaps over Adams, who is still getting to his feet.
Jack: Plancha through the ropes straight into Bruce Pepin! Good lord!
Denrol: Does he never stop?
This incredible show of agility is met with loud cheers from the Canadian fans. By this time, Adams has come up to his feet. He looks behind him, where Pepin and White are on the floor, and then at Segier, who is across him, outside the ring. As if mimicking his partner, Adams also sprints across the ring and planchas through the ropes himself, crashing straight into Greg Segier.
Jack: And now Adams is airborne, this match is out of control!
The referee clearly has no order, watching the chaos with complete bemusement. With all four men out of the ring, he has no choice but to start counting.
One!
Two!
White and Pepin are both on their feet, Pepin trying unsuccessfully to get out of harm’s way as White rattles him with hard shots to the face. On the other side of the ring, Adams sits on top of Segier, pummelling him with hard right hands.
Three!
Four!
Five!
White’s attacks send Pepin up the ramp, and the TLC member follows after him, sending him to the hard floor with a clubbing blow to the head.
Jack: Someone needs to get back into the ring…
Six!
Seven!
Segier has managed to fend off Adams and climbs over the guardrail to escape. Adams isn’t done yet, though, and follows after him, the two now battling into the crowd.
Eight!
Nine!
Ten!
Ding, Ding!
Denrol: It’s over?
Jack: I guess so, the count reached ten!
None of the four men seem to have noticed the bell, as they continue to fight.
Trudeau: Due to a double countout, this match has been declared a draw!
The official result is met with a few boos from the crowd, but the majority remain transfixed on the action spreading around the arena.
Jack: This match spiraled into chaos, and it’s not getting any better.
Denrol: Here come reinforcements!
Security arrives at both scenes, pulling the men apart from each other.
Jack: Right now, at the request of Eddie van Dorn, we're going to show you some footage from the match that put him on the shelf for almost two years. We had originally intended to show this last week, but we did experience some technical difficulties. We urge younger or sensitive viewers...
Denrol: By which we mean children and wussies...
Jack: ... to look away, as this is very graphic.
Denrol: And you said Eddie asked to have this shown? I've seen this. I'd think he wouldn't want to relive it.
Jack: I may not know him as well as you do, but I'm sure he has some ulterior motive.
The footage begins playing. EVD tries to continue up the ladder slowly, oblivious to the fact that Copeland has gotten back to his feet and is looking up at him from below. The American Psycho looks up at EVD with a look of pure evil and then begins searching for something; he finally spots one of the “Birthday Bash X” signs hanging up over the top of the WWATron. He walks over and reaches out to grab the sign, as EVD continues to climb, slipping off the rungs several times.
Jimmy: Come on Eddie, there’s nobody near you, become World Champion again!
Randy: I wouldn’t be so sure of that if I were you Jimmy, look…
Randy is alluding to the fact that Copeland has successfully torn one of the massive signs off and has commandeered one of the support chains. He looks up at EVD and notices that he hasn’t climbed far at all, due to complete exhaustion. Copeland kneels down and starts to threat the chain through a steel ring on the end of it, finally standing up and holding the chain like a lasso.
Jimmy: Oh no, what’s he thinking?!?
Randy: You already know it’s not going to be good.
Copeland looks up at Eddie, full of hatred, and starts swinging the chain above his head. He whirls it around a few times and lets go of it, the chain sails upward, finally wrapping around Eddie’s neck, Copeland jerks viciously and Eddie falls to the side, 15 feet off the ladder, and hit’s the reinforced wood of the scaffolding. The entire structure shakes as the entire crowd gasps in shock. The camera picks up Eddie moving extremely gingerly on arching his back because of the pain. Copeland kneels down over EVD and speaks.
Copeland: Tonight Eddie, I will succeed where both the Ballard’s have fail, especially Tarin, because I am now going to end your career, the way that little punk tried and failed to do.
With that Copeland stands back up and jerks on the chain, Eddie puts his hands in between the chain and his throat, as Copeland drags him up to his feet. Copeland and EVD are now the only two men stand on their feet. Thunderous boos come from the crowd as Copeland helps Eddie to his feet, the Extreme Revolutionary, still trying to fight, but not having the energy, slumps back down before Copeland grits his teeth and grabs him by the throat. Copeland looks into his eyes and whispers something to EVD before suddenly and shockingly throwing Eddie over the side of the WWATron. The crowd gasp in shock and fear as EVD falls, seconds later coming to a vicious and brutal stop as Copeland violently jerks up on the chain, hanging EVD in front of the world, and completely knocking Eddie out. The entire crowd and WWA roster all stop and fall silent, as they look up and witness the unbelievable. Copeland continues to look down at Eddie as he swings from side to side, with his right arm hanging at his side and his left hand still stuck between the chain and his throat.
Jimmy: This has gone beyond anything I’ve ever witnessed in all my time calling professional wrestling.
Randy: I’m in complete shock…I can’t believe he just did that. I know EVD is a pain in the ass, but I’d never wish anything like this to happen to him.
Jimmy: I’ve never seen anything like this.
Randy: Sure you have. About thirteen months ago, to be precise.
Jimmy: But last time, he was able to fight against his restraint and miraculously win the whole shebang. Just look at him, Randy… Eddie van Dorn is completely limp.
Randy: I hear there are pills for that now.
Jimmy: Randy, this is serious.
Randy: Surely you don’t think Copeland went too far? He said he was going to end van Dorn’s career, and you’ve seen how resilient that little bugger is. Drastic action needed to be taken.
Eddie swings lifelessly from the chain, his face turning a deep red from the flow of blood from his head and lack of flow of oxygen to his lungs. Copeland looks down at him triumphantly as the WWA title hangs above him, his path toward it seemingly unimpeded. The fans are apparently too much in shock to boo him, as all eyes are trained on the motionless form of the Extreme Revolutionary. A team of paramedics has appeared on the ramp below, but they seem to have no immediate method of reaching him.
Jimmy: The longer he's up there, the more likely it becomes that we won't be seeing him in action again. It looks like the paramedics have gotten their hands on a cherry picker, and not a moment too soon.
A pair of EMTs stand in the basket as a third works the controls, sending some much-needed help up toward the dangling EVD. They cautiously work at the chain around his neck as Copeland continues to watch with an evil grin. Eddie is lowered into basket of the cherry picker and Copeland’s eyes then fall to the belt, to a smattering of boos, but mostly dead silence.
Jimmy: This has been…horrific, Randy. Eddie van Dorn was close to choking to his death, to the man who is now about to become the next WWA World champion.
Randy: It’s a cruel irony, Jimmy.
As EVD disappears through the curtain amongst a crowd of concerned EMTs, Copeland sets up a ladder under the hanging title belt. The video package ends.
Jack: Unbelievable what some men will do in the pursuit of... whatever it is Copeland is ever after.
Once back in the arena, the ring has been covered by a snot green carpet, and hideously angular and art deco chairs are set up with a similar small table between them; upon the table are two mics. The crowd is murmurring with confusion.
Jack: I'm not sure what's about to happen here.
Denrol: I have a suspicion.
Yeah, I get it, you're an outcast
Always under attack, always coming in last
Bringing up the past, no one owes you anything
I think you need a shotgun blast, a kick in the ass
So paranoid, watch your back
Oh my, here we go
As "Sound of Madness" by Shinedown pops over the arena speakers, Colby Korver bursts onto the stage, playing to the cheering crowd as the steady thrash metal rhythm pours from the speakers.
Jack: Ah, I know now.
Another lose cannon gone bi-polar
Slipped down, couldn't get much lower
Quicksand's got no sense of humor
I'm still laughing like hell
Trudeau: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, from Orlando, Florida, weighing in at 232 pounds... COLBY KORVER!
Korver slaps hands with passerby as he makes his way to the ring; he appears to be focused as he does so, though, probably planning out what he'll do once he enters the "Clockwork Corner." He rolls into the ring and pops up, moving over to one of the seats and examining it to make sure it isn't booby-trapped or anything, as his music fades out. The lights dim and the WWAtron starts to flicker with life as it beams out various x-ray pictures of broken arms. 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 and jeans this day, bouncing from one foot to the other.
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 breate!
Trudeau: And from Des Moines, Iowa, weighing in at 265 pounds... The Arms Collector... MARCUS MANCUSO!!
Crowd: Man-Cu-So! Man-Cu-So!
Jack: I'm a little concerned with what The Cog may be planning here tonight... These are two of our most up-and-coming superstars!
Denrol: Um, maybe he's just going to interview them?
Marcus walks down the ramp towards the ring, looking as focused as Korver before him. Without hesitation, he slides into the ring and yanks his hat off, tossing it into the crowd, retaining the shirt this time. He looks at Korver, who has seated himself in one of the angular chairs; Korver nods, mouths, "It's okay," and Mancuso sits down, as well. His music dies down, leaving the arena with nothing but the murmurring of the crowd for a few moments.
Jack: All right, it's time to see what the Clockwork Maniac has on the dockett.
Nothing happens for a few moments, but finally, the house lights darken and take on a disturbing reddish tint, and the power chord and thunderstorm that precedes Slayer's "Raining Blood" fill the arena amidst large amounts of booing. All of a sudden, from up on the stage, what appears to be an actual storm begins, falling in waves from who knows where. With each drum strike from Dave Lombardo, the lights flash white for a moment; the booing begins to subside, replaced more by the murmuring of fear amidst the crowd.
Jack: The Cog smartly sending his cohort Xaeroh out first.
Denrol: Smartly? The Cog doesn't need to do this! He's just using Xaeroh as a scout, obviously!
The music builds and builds, until finally the riff begins, the lights continuing to flash momentarily white with each drum strike. Then, once the intensity has built to a fever pitch, the double-kicks and alt-picking tear through the speakers, and the lights begin to strobe viciously along. From out of the back Xaeroh emerges, a gigantic human being, a skyscraper capable of crushing anything smaller than itself.
Jack: What is he holding?
The massive man is struggling a bit, oddly, as he's trying to juggle a small portable television of some sort with an odd antenna on the top of it in one hand and an umbrella in the other. On the television screen is an extreme close-up of The Cog, sitting in some room.
Denrol: What the hell?!
Jack: Where's The Cog? He's certainly going to come out here, isn't he?
The Cog shakes his head on the small screen. The camera's close enough to Xaeroh and the TV to pick up The Cog's words.
The Cog: I am NOT walking through that. You'd best be carrying that umbrella of yours, kiddo.
After another moment of struggling, Xaeroh opens the umbrella, which is very small and only covers the monitor, and walks through the rain of blood, the screen being protected but Xaeroh being drenched as before. In the ring, Korver and Mancuso don't know what to think.
Jack: Um... Is he really protecting the image of The Cog on the screen with that umbrella?
Denrol: Of course! That would just be gross, walking through that deluge!
Jack. Uh. Hmmm.
Once out of the storm, Xaeroh discards the umbrella.
The Cog: Ah, thank you, my good man.
The crowd boos more, having merely watched the foolishness for a few moments. His strides are long, and he reaches the ring quickly, where he simply steps over the top rope. The massive man, coated in liquid that might as well be blood, stands there, awkwardly holding the monitor as Mancuso and Korver simply stare. He sets the screen on the table where the two mics once were, which are both in the possession of Mancuso and Korver. Xaeroh then goes over and fetches another mic and holds it up to the television.
Jack: Well... Who's going to break the ice?
It ends up being...
The Cog: Welcome to the Clockwork Corner, my friends! I'm so very excited that you could both join me here! I regret that I couldn't be there in person, but you see, I am unfortunately not a complete fool, and found it prudent to avoid direct contact with the two of you and the big stinky Indian. LOTS of boos. Oh, you'd avoid it at all costs, too, wouldn't you, you silly crowd?!
Mancuso looks as if he's had enough.
Mancuso: Seriously, bro. You brought us here with a false sense that we would be getting our hands on your dumbass once and for all, but you don't even show. I'm tired of your stupid little games, Cog.
The Cog: For starters, you'll never get hands on my ass, no matter how dumb you think it is. That's not how I roll, friendo. And secondly, I made no such promises. This will be the interview format, whether or not you like it. Savvy? Boos. So, anyway... Hey, Colby. CHECK THIS SHIT OUT!
Immediately, up on the big screen, the footage of Korver tapping out to Mancuso at Rage in the Cage is showed, and the crowd in attendance this evening boos loudly. Korver doesn't seem too affected by this, though.
The Cog: Ooh, sorry to bring up a sore subject there, buddy. And by sore, I meant your arm and shoulder. Which probably both still hurt you from this picture-perfect flying armbar Marcus Collector slapped on you that one time. Am I right?
Korver: Dude, that was like six months ago. It was one match. I don't -
The footage plays over again, only this time, the volume is WAY louder. The Cog on the screen cups his hand to his ear.
The Cog: I'm sorry, Colby. I didn't catch that. What were you saying?
Korver: I don't -
And again it plays, even louder than before. Korver and Mancuso both look like they're getting irritated.
The Cog: Really, man, I'm sorry. You're just tapping out so loudly over the space-time continuum I can't really hear you talk in the present. You shouldn't even try to talk again, honestly.
Jack: This is ridiculous.
Denrol: No, it's not! I'm wiping away tears, this is so funny!
Mancuso: So your plan was to just show us this old footage and hope we'd turn on each other immediately? You're so -
The footage changes, this time to the Friday the Thirteenth show, where The Cog pins the unconscious Mancuso, only... Instead of The Cog's face, someone has hastily and very poorly Photoshopped on Colby Korver's headshot from the WWA website. The ref counts one-two-three, and the crowd in the past and the present show their distaste. Mancuso almost laughs at the stupidity of it all.
The Cog: Well, would you look at that! Your friend turned on you! How very dishonest of him! It was so sudden and unexpected, I'll bet you don't even remember it happening, Marcus Collector! Your mind has tried to wipe it all away. But I remember, Marcus! And I care about you enough to show it to you. Don't let your mind rule you!
The footage suddenly loops the pinfall count over and over again endlessly. The Cog shakes his head on the screen.
The Cog: Man, dude, that's cold. He got you down for like a nine-thousand count there. Or maybe it was OVER NINE-THOUSAND!
The crowd boos even louder, and Mancuso and Korver both look annoyed at The Cog's antics.
Korver: Dude, stop it. Seriously. This isn't working. It's a total joke.
The Cog: Listen to me, Frank the Tank. YOU are the total joke here. You've done shit from zero since you showed up here in the WWA, and these idiots out there still scream your name. Maybe they're all so lonely and lifeless that's just there way of getting off, and they view you as someone in their league. And by league, I of course mean someone who is equally lonely and lifeless.
LOUD boos.
The Cog: And you, Marcus Collector. I beat your ass a couple of weeks ago, and you and everyone else still seem to think you're hot shit for some reason. Why don't you just realize you're almost as worthless as your little butt-pirate buddy there?
The crowd is livid at this point, as are Korver and Mancuso. The Cog just smiles, though.
The Cog: Hey, put that other footage up, monkeys!
The screen changes again, this time showing Shaman backstage, where he's tearing everything up, knocking over tables, wrecking anything in his path. The Cog is a bit surprised at this, but doesn't let it play with his mind too much, though.
The Cog: Silly monkeys, that's not the footage to which I was referring! Please to switch to it?
The Native American Badass comes upon a door and kicks it hard, and all of a sudden, on The Cog's screen, the door behind him responds to what was obviously the kick. The Cog lets out a loud squeak of fear, and Shaman, who looks as if he was about to continue on, hears this, and turns back to the door.
Jack: Uh-oh, for The Cog!
Shaman tries to open the door, and starts beating the crap out of it when he realizes it's locked tight. On the little screen, The Cog grins nervously.
The Cog: I'm sorry to end the transmission so abruptly, but... Uh... Bye!
The little screen winks out, and on one powerful blow from Shaman on the big screen, it switches back to the shot of the arena. The crowd cheers at the prospect of a Cog beatdown. Mancuso and Korver and Xaeroh all stand there awkwardly for a few more moments, before Xaeroh gestures and nods as if to say, "Okay, then. That's done." He turns to leave the ring, but Korver and Mancuso both share a look, and Korver launches in and blasts Xaeroh with a Headshot, to the delight of the crowd!
Jack: BOOM! HEADSHOT!
Xaeroh staggers backward from the blow but doesn't fall. Korver turns to Mancuso and gestures to Xaeroh, but Mancuso shrugs.
Mancuso: Dude, I don't have a finisher, you know. I just beat guys.
Korver shrugs in response, and the two men launch themselves at Xaeroh at the same time and clothesline him over the top rope. He lands on his feet, though, staggering about, to the love of the crowd.
Jack: Well, that'll send The Cog a message!
Denrol: I hope Shaman takes it easy on him. Who's going to make me laugh every week?
Eddie van Dorn is seen standing in front of a soda machine, digging through a pile of coins in his hand.
EVD: Isn't that always the way? You can never find a second nickel when you need it. Or maybe that's just me.
Gabriel Roth approaches Eddie from behind.
Roth: You remind me an awful lot of the Mountain Dew in that machine. A lot of young people seem to really like it, but anyone with a refined palate is left with a horrible taste in their mouths.
Eddie turns around nonchalantly.
EVD: And you remind me of swamp water. You stink and provide direction for dumb, violent beasts. Speaking of Copeland, where is he?
Roth: Come now. Surely you do not think me a fool? My charge is sitting in his dressing room, letting his hatred fester from afar. Would I seriously risk our chance to be rid of you by bringing him along, violating Ms. Beckett's orders? However, there is a message that I must deliver.
EVD: Isn't that what Insider is for?
With an exasperated look, Gabriel continues.
Roth: Not all messages are verbal. And Ms. Beckett never said I had to stay away from you.
Eddie smiles, puts the change back in his pocket, and cracks his knuckles.
EVD: That is a phenomenally good point. Not to mention, if you're suggesting you came to give me a beating...
Roth: Oh, no. Copeland handles the physical side of our dealings. I'm purely mental... or, in this case, symbolic.
Roth reaches into his pocket and retrieves a small circular token and flicks it in the air, Eddie’s hand shoots out and catches it.
Roth: A little something that holds a deeper meaning, a meaning that would escape your simple mind Eddie. That token simply means that very soon, you will breathe you last breath. Copeland wants you to know exactly what you have coming at Meltdown.
EVD: Why am I reminded of open mic night at any coffee shop in a college town right now?
He pounds his fist into his other hand.
EVD: Oh, right! The pretentiousness!
Roth: Mock and joke all you like, Edward.
EVD: Please don't call me that. I have no desire to sparkle.
Roth: Be that as it may, the jokes will cease come Meltdown.
Eddie's face suddenly turns deeply serious.
EVD: You have no idea how right you are. It is the thought of getting Copeland one on one again that drove me to return to the WWA in the first place. I could very well hand wave the whole thing... claim the footage of what happened that night was unable to be found, or maybe that it was destroyed in a mysterious fire. I could live in absolute denial, but that wouldn't change all the time I spent rehabilitating.
Eddie takes a step closer to Roth, eyes blazing.
EVD: All the time stuck in a hospital bed, then a wheelchair, and so on... all the pain and suffering I had to go through to walk properly again, let alone step back into active competition...
He gets nose to nose with Roth before surprisingly picking the older man off the ground by his lapels... and given Eddie's slim stature, that's something that has to be fuelled by righteous fury. He yells in Roth's face.
EVD: THAT'S NOT SOMETHING I CAN JUST IMAGINE AWAY! You can't take a man's livelihood from him and not expect him to come looking for retribution unless you finish the job! You want to deliver a message to me? Fine. Now you're going to deliver one FOR me. You tell Copeland that if he has no intention of finishing me off next weekend that he may as well stay home, because I'm damn sure not going to be an easy target.
With this, he pushes Roth backward, sending him ass over teakettle. After a few seconds, he brushes himself off and indignantly stares down the Extreme Revolutionary, before shaking his head and chuckling to himself.
Roth: Honestly Eddie, I understand your rage. But do you still believe after everything that has happened; that Copeland’s hatred for you and subsequent raping of your career and life was unprovoked? You’re more naive than the morons that cheer for you, every time you enter that ring.
Gabriel stops for a moment and smirks at EVD who stares with a burning desire into the eyes of his enemies guide.
Roth: Make no mistake Eddie, your career and life is a desolate waste and I promise you that Copeland has every intention of finishing what he started. By the way, how’s the neck? I know you say the neck is fine, but c’mon... you were hung fifty feet above the arena by a steel chain... Eddie the neck is not fine and if you’re not careful, Copeland will tear your entire head off. Deep down you know that though... but your foolish pride is driving you to commit self-righteous suicide.
Eddie watches Roth leave, seething. He then calmly turns back to the soda machine. He looks at the small token Roth gave him, shrugs, and deposits it into the coin slot. He then presses a button and receives his drink. He opens it, making a nice, refreshing "Fsssh!" sound.
EVD: You know, underneath all that bulls***, that thing makes a darn good slug.
He walks away, drinking.
Special Guest Commentator Jaymz Watkins
Denrol: Why is Jaymz Watkins sitting down next to me?
Jack: Because the next match is our Main Event, and is the tag match between the team of RJ Stone and his partner Hendricks and the team of Jack Griffiths and Chris Bagwell.
Jaymz: That’s of course if Jack is allowed to wrestle!
Jack: As it stands however, we believe he won’t be involved tonight!
The lights in the arena go to black and the sound of a distant thunderstorm can be heard. The WWAtron flickers to life and you see the shadowed figure of a man standing on the top of a mountainous ridge. The camera zooms in on this figure as the rumbling of the thunder grows more ominous. The figure finally becomes lit by a flash of lightning, it is RJ Stone. The sky behind him begins to burn and \"Alpha and Omega\" by Stratovarius destroys the PA system. The crowd erupts in boos as the man himself methodically emerges from the back. He stands at the top of the ramp, the WWA championship resting securely on his shoulder. From behind him comes Hendrick, trying to keep a low profile.
I am the earth and sky
I am the low and high
I am the snowflake in the winter evening
I am the birth and death
I am your final breath
I am the one that gave you life and freedom
Choosing your own way
Trudeau: Ladies and gentlemen, making his way to ring, from Fresno, California, weighing in at two hundred and forty four pounds, he is the WWA Championnnnnn, R...JAY...STOOOOOONE
I am the Alpha, I am the Omega
I am the beginning and the end of time
I am the Alpha, I am the Omega
My whole creation stands before me tonight
RJ makes his way down the ramp as the slow and powerful guitar churns along, being followed all the way by Hendrick. The fans are white hot with nuclear hatred for Stone, who takes every opportunity to pause on the ramp down to the ring and disgustedly glare out at the fans. He finally reaches the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He stands in the center of the ring. He holds the WWA title aloft with one arm, staring off into nothingness as the crowd showers him with distaste. He eventually hands the championship belt to the referee and leans back in the nearest turnbuckle, staring a hole at the entrance, awaiting his next victim.
Jack: We are just waiting on Griffiths and Bagwell now!
BREATHE
That single word echoes throughout the arena, stirring a positive reaction from the capacity crowd in attendance.
Trudeau: Coming to the ring, weighing in at 227 pounds and hailing from Newark, New Jersey…
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 to ‘Idolize Me’
Trudeau: He is the ‘Rajah of Ratings’….
Bagwell whips his arms down to his sides, signaling a huge pop from the crowd. He triumphantly marches down the aisle towards the ring.
Trudeau: He is…CCCCCHHHRRRIIISSS BBBAAAAAAAAGGGWEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!
Bagwell slips 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! As he brings his arms to his sides, the music fades.
Jack: This could be make or break time for Bagwell… is Griffiths going to make it?
A few seconds tick by and nothing…
Denrol: It doesn’t look like it…
Jack: Maybe you should go out there Jaymz?
Jaymz: Haha funny! That would require me to trust Bagwell.
A few more seconds tick by and still nothing, the referee looks at Bagwell and shrugs before signalling for the bell.
Ding, Ding!
Hendricks looks at Stone with a look that almost begs, please don’t make me start; Stone smiles and ushers him out of the ring before stepping out and starting to circle Bagwell.
Jack: Looks like its Stone and Bagwell to start here then!
Bagwell steps forward looking for a collar and tie but Stone steps backwards and slaps Hendrick across the chest.
Denrol: Or not! Looks like its Hendricks to start after all.
Hendricks begrudgingly steps in as Stone steps out and immediately finds himself having to dodge a clothesline, which he does by ducking underneath and standing up behind Bagwell.
Denrol: Bagwell hits nothing but air!
Hendricks smiled, proud of himself but as he tries to fire off a kick to Bagwell’s gut as the Rajah turns, but instead he finds himself flying through air via a capture suplex.
Jack: Bagwell is wasting no time here, looking to make an impact quickly!
Bagwell gets to his feet and waits, and as Hendricks stands he is whipped across the ring towards the corner.
Jaymz: That’s the corner where Jack should be.
Jack: “SHOULD be” being the phrase.
Denrol: Jack is plain cowardly, he should’ve just signed a waiver and competed.
Jack: Unlike you Gordon, Jack has people who rely on him!
Hendricks collapses against the turnbuckles and Bagwell charges at him looking for a viscous clothesline but Hendricks manages to lift his legs up, however Bagwell checks his run in time and grabs Hendricks legs.
Jack: Quick thinking from Bagwell!
Bagwell pulls Hendricks forward, which causes Hendricks to fall to the ground before Bagwell falls backwards throwing Hendricks across the ring causing him to crash face first into the canvas.
Jaymz: Hendrick’s lack of experience showed there, he should’ve tucked his head in and rolled through.
Bagwell stands up and goes over to Hendricks and locks in a Single Leg Boston Crab.
Jack: Bagwell looking to exert some serious damage here.
Bagwell cranks back, increasing the pressure and as his eyes close with the strain, he doesn’t notice Stone enter the ring.
Denrol: Bagwell could be in trouble here.
Stone bounces off of the ropes and boots Bagwell square across the jaw before the referee forces him out of the ring; Bagwell meanwhile forced to relinquish the hold collapses to the ground, as Hendricks crawls away.
Jaymz: That’s the numbers game in action right there.
Jack: Yes, remember, if the situation was reversed there is no-one to help Bagwell out!
Hendricks, seizing the opportunity, crawls over to Bagwell and covers him.
One!
Two!
Bagwell powers out, showing his resilience.
Jack: Not even close!
Hendricks crawls towards Stone, looking for the tag; however Bagwell reaches out and grabs his foot.
Jack: Bagwell not letting Hendricks make a tag.
Jaymz: It makes sense, Hendricks is the less experienced, weaker man in this equation and Bagwell needs to take advantage of that!
Bagwell pulls Hendricks up and from a dead lift he is able to German Suplex his opponent, sending him crashing into the canvas but rather than release he holds on, turns and nails another.
Jack: Bagwell could be looking forward to the traditional three here!
As he pulls Hendricks up again, the less experience Hendricks, now facing Stone again is able to take advantage by nailing Bagwell with a kick to the instep and then an elbow to his face before jumping forward and tagging in Stone.
Denrol: Here we go… business is about to pick up!
Stone steps into the ring and Bagwell charges RJ with an attempted clothesline. RJ ducks nimbly, this causes Bagwell to wheel around to try and face RJ.
Denrol: Its going to take more than a clothesline to catch out the champion!
Jack: Unfortunately I have to agree.
Jaymz: Indeed, Stone is different kettle of fish to Hendricks.
Bagwell tries to charge again and Stone tries to drill him in the sternum with a spinning thrust kick, but Bagwell catches it and tries to clothesline RJ again, this time connecting full force; knocking Stone off of his feet, but before Bagwell can capitalise Stone is back on his feet.
Denrol: It’s going to take more than that…
Jack: Much more!
Squaring off again, Bagwell takes RJ down with a flurry of punches, much to the delight of the crowd.
Jack: But the momentum is definitely with Bagwell.
Jaymz: Don’t expect it to last though, the numbers are against him!
RJ slowly gets to his feet and is brought down by a clothesline. He tries to get up and the result repeats itself. The crowd cheers more as Bagwell gets more fired up.
Denrol: Oh lord, Stone needs to get back in this… and fast!
RJ remains floored, seemingly dazed and out of it. Bagwell reaches down to pick RJ up and gets surprised when Stone moves quickly and locks him in a guillotine choke with a leg scissors.
Denrol: HERE WE GO!
Jack: Stone with a guillotine choke!
Bagwell writhes around, completely locked in the hold. RJ arches his back and cinches the lock in even tighter.
Denrol: Bagwell is fading fast!
Jack: You’d be too in this situation!
Bagwell finds his second wind though, and manages to start to drag himself towards the ropes.
Jack: Come on Bagwell!!!
Denrol: No, go Stone!
Jaymz: You two really are like children.
The crowd grows louder as Bagwell is able to reach out and grasp the bottom rope with his hand. The cheers turn to boos as RJ locks the guillotine in deeper.
Jack: That’s it… Stone has to break the hold!
Denrol: He has till the count of five!
The referee moves in.
One!
Two!
Three!
Four!
Fiv-
RJ releases the hold and stands, glaring down at Bagwell as the crowd boos.
Jack: Gah, about time!
Denrol: Count of five… that’s all I have to say!
Stone lifts the near lifeless Bagwell to a seated position before locking him in a crucifix hold and, as was about to be proved crucial, his back was facing towards the ramp.
Jack: Bah… the Code of Silence, it could all be over.
Suddenly an almighty roar goes up around the arena as, unbeknownst to Stone, Jack Griffiths comes running down the ramp and climbs onto the apron.
Jack: Griffiths is here! Griffiths is here!
Denrol: Does this mean?
Jaymz: Well from the looks of things it does!
Jack: In fact, I’ve just been handed a note… apparently Jack’s insurance company stood strong but Griffiths is cleared to wrestle again, he just has to pay them more money.
Griffiths immediately jumps to the top rope, and springboards towards Stone nailing a leg drop on his way down breaking the hold but before Stone is able to come back at Griffiths the referee gets between them and attempts to force Griffiths out of the ring.
Denrol: Lets hope the referee can re-instate some order here!
Stone however doesn’t care that the referee is between him and Jack and immediately drop kicks the referee in the back, collapsing Jack in the corner with the referee leant against him.
Jack: That’s the second week in a row, that a referee has been assaulted!
Still not caring about the referee, Stone attempts to use him as a weapon and runs towards the corner nailing a splash against the referee’s back; however Griffiths is able to duck under the bottom rope meaning only the referee takes more damage,
Jaymz: Griffiths out quickly but Stone is still in control here.
Wanting to take an advantage Hendricks climbs into the ring and lifts Bagwell to his feet looking for a scoop slam but Bagwell reverses; meanwhile Griffiths pulls himself to his feet and looks to springboard in at Stone again, this time looking for a forearm.
Jack: Griffiths looking for a strong forearm here.
Stone however rolls underneath Jack and out of the ring, but as he does so Bagwell plants Hendricks with a viscous belly to belly and seizing the opportunity Jack tucks his head in and is just able to turn through 180 degrees nailing a Senton to Hendricks.
Jack: Quick thinking from my namesake but where is Stone going?
Denrol: I think he has had enough.
Sure enough, Stone grabs his belt from ringside and sets up off the ramp; mean while Griffiths and Bagwell turn their attention back to the Hendricks, laying into him their boots. The referee comes round and motions towards the timekeeper and Trudeau.
Ding, Ding!
Trudeau approaches the referee and they exchange a few words before Trudeau makes his announcement.
Trudeau: Ladies and Gentlemen, the referee has ruled this match a no contest.
Stone stares angrily at two of his challengers at Meltdown, threatening to walk back down the aisle and into the ring where his “partner” lies in shambles. A sudden crowd roar fills the arena.
Jack: Jaymz Watkins is heading towards our champion!
Denrol: Stone is cornered…one way leads to Bagwell and Griffiths, the other to Watkins!
Stone sees Watkins and inches backwards, not in a hurry to go either way. But…
Voice: ENOUGH!
Rachel Beckett emerges from backstage, to a mixed reaction. Her face is bright red and she appears angry.
Beckett: This is turning into a madhouse! Mr. Babb just personally came backstage and told me to come out here and make an announcement.
Hearing this, Stone starts to walk towards the entrance – presumably towards Vaughn Babb’s location.
Beckett: Stop right there, Stone! You’re going to want to hear this.
Watkins stands next to Beckett, a slight smile on his face. Bagwell stands leaning on the ropes looking at boss’ assistant, while Jack Griffiths has slid out of the ring and is watching everything.
Beckett: Mr. Babb has received and heard the official protest filed by Trendkiller. Mr. Bagwell, you have twice cost Trendkiller title shots, through questionable methods. As such, Mr. Babb has agreed to insert Trendkiller into the main event at Meltdown.
A boo fills the air and Stone starts to protest.
Beckett: I’M NOT FINISHED!
The crowd cheers as Stone fumes.
Beckett: You all have wreacked havoc upon the WWA in recent weeks. Now, right before one of our biggest pay per views ever, I have every one of my main eventers trying to destroy the others!
As if on cue, the roar of the crowd signals that something is happening. Unfortunately for Chris Bagwell, it’s too late when he realizes Trendkiller has hopped the barrier and is behind him. One quick kick to the head later, Trendkiller now occupies the spot Bagwell was in, with Bagwell holding his head on the mat.
Beckett: God dammit Barnes, can you control yourself for one minute?
A head nods says no.
Beckett: A normal match isn’t going to be enough for you…you animals! Mr. Babb went through the WWA’s history and found something just as barbaric and sinister as you all are. A match that has changed lives and ruined careers. A match called Ultimate Glory!
The roof is now officially blown off, as Stone storms towards Beckett, spit flying from his mouth as he flips out. Trendkiller in the ring looks very calm, while Griffiths looks up at the sky, as if asking God why. Watkins’ mouth is wide open, as he looks shocked by the announcement. Bagwell still holds his head but gives a thumbs up. Seeing this, Trendkiller walks over and kicks him in the ribs.
Beckett: Ultimate Glory. A steel cage circling the ring, featuring a half-enclosed ceiling, with the other half open. Men have become legends by risking life and limb jumping from the ceiling onto their opponents. Other men have won the WWA Championship inside its confines. A brutal match, for six brutal individuals…
Denrol: Six?
Jack: Huh?
Beckett: Not surprisingly, our referees have unanimously protested being involved in Ultimate Glory III. Mr. Babb realized this match was going to get out of hand, so he went outside the WWA roster to find a man who could handle the chaos. A man who knows Ultimate Glory very well. A man all of you – bar Bagwell – have a history with.
Anticipation builds, as the competitors all share varying degrees of intrigue – from Trendkiller’s apathy to Watkins’ edge-of-his-seat intrigue.
Beckett: Ladies and gentlemen, your special referee at Ultimate Glory is this man…
The crowd buzzes as the lights inside the Credit Union Centre go out. Flashbulbs illuminate the darkness, before it all suddenly stops.
This is what I brought you, this you can keep
This is what I brought, you may forget me
I promise to depart, just promise one thing
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep
A blue spotlight shines down upon the WWA entranceway, where a kneeling man rises. The crowd cheers as Kade Williams has made his WWA return.
Jack: The man who won the first Ultimate Glory!
Denrol: Hmm. With help from Ian Tense…
Trendkiller’s apathy is gone; replaced by anger. Griffiths squints and rubs his forehead, obviously not thrilled with this announcement. Stone, angry only moments earlier, starts to applaud, a huge smile on his face. Watkins just stares at Williams, likely remembering Retribution.
Beckett: In one week, this all ends. The WWA Championship will be decided inside Ultimate Glory, at Meltdown. The best of luck to all six of you – even you, Barnes.
Jack: What…what have we seen tonight?! Meltdown’s Main Event just grew by leaps and bounds!
Denrol: More like leaps and Barnes!
Jack: Weak.
Fade to black…ish… because through the darkness comes a final voice.
Voice: Kade Williams isn’t who she meant by ‘six’. Oh no no no. That slot belongs to me. Gentlemen, the bar has been raised.
The voice begins to laugh and after a few moments is cut off by the real fade to black.
Main Event
WWA Championship Match
Ultimate Glory III
RJ Stone [c] Vs Jack Griffiths Vs Jaymz Watkins Vs Chris Bagwell Vs Trendkiller Vs The Sixth Man
WWA United States Championship Match
Four-Way Fray
Shaman [c] Vs Marcus Mancuso Vs The Cog Vs Colby Korver
Razorback Deathmatch
Eddie van Dorn Vs Copeland
Nick Adams Vs Greg Segier
Jevon White Vs Bruce Pepin
If White Loses, He Must Become A Canadian
"Dark Angel" Joshua Curtis vs. Albert Drabble
Mr. Mystery vs. Ki Loshimo
"Match One" By Joe Stock
"Match Two" By Walter Yeates
"Match Three" By Jafar Iqbal
"Main Event" By Jack Griffiths
Produced by Josh L