The former WWA Champion returns for the rebirth, can he cap his return by winning Best of the Best?
Portland, ME
Jevon White is already in the ring, stretching against the ropes. The crowd is murmurring, and they begin to boo as "Psychosocial" by Slipknot starts up. Copeland pushes through the curtains, Randy Cross trailing close behind.
Denrol: The New God and his New Jesus, I suppose.
Jack: This is a very important contest, actually. If Copeland loses, he will have to face Jaymz Watkins at Rage in the Cage inside, obviously, a steel cage. If he wins, that match will not happen, and Cross's Trials for Jaymz Watkins will continue unchecked.
Denrol: This is certainly a very interesting contest, from that perspective alone. This is also Copeland's first match in several months. Of course, it's not like White is a tough guy to beat.
White looks down at Cross, who is smiling warmly, and Copeland, who shows no emotion whatsoever. Copeland stops at the side of the ring, his eyes locked upon White.
Cross: Prepare the sacrificial lamb, my disciple. Show Jaymz Watkins what carnage I'm capable of creating.
Copeland continues to stare at White, who bravely gestures for Copeland to get into the ring with him, the crowd still booing loudly. Copeland, however, takes a step backward, a sick smile tugging the corners of his lips.
Jack: What is he doing?
Copeland takes another step back, before turning on his heels and heading back for the curtain. The crowd begins to cheer now, and Cross doesn't hide his confusion.
Cross: What the hell are you doing, Copeland?! DESTROY HIM!
Copeland continues to walk away. The feed switches to the camera in front of Copeland, and he glances into the camera with his sick smile. Cross hurries along behind him, a look of total bewilderment on his face.
Cross: Copeland! Copeland, what are you doing?! COPELAND!
The American Psycho exits back through the curtain, Cross following closely. White begins to celebrate in the ring.
Jack: Well, that was strange! Did we just watch the fastest match ever?
Denrol: I know what just happened. No contest, and Copeland sent a big message to Jaymz Watkins.
Jack: What kind of message?
Denrol: He wants to face him at Rage in the Cage.
White smiles and exits the ring to clap the hands of his fans.
Denrol: This idiot thinks he won the match. Screw this.
A static burst can be heard over the audio as Denrol's headset is dropped.
Jack: Where are you going?
White keeps shaking hands and starts up the aisle. Suddenly Limp Bizkit can be heard over the PA.
Your Mouth is Writing Checks That Your Ass Can't Cash!
"Full Nelson" begins to play. The crowd boos as the WWA color commentator steps through the entrance curtain. Denrol ignores them and motions for the music to stop.
Denrol: Hey moron! MORON!
White has stopped shaking hands and is staring up the aisle at Denrol.
Denrol: Obviously you are not aware what just occured. You didn't win that match. It was ruled a no contest. The match never happened. Because once again White, someone would rather leave then waste their time facing you in the ring.
The crowd boos as White's stare turns into a glare.
Denrol: I'm going to explain to you why that is White. You are not the world' worst wrestler. It's nothing like that. You don't suck White. You are something more worse than bad. You White are below average. You are BOOOOOOORIIIIIING.
White makes his way up the aisle.
Denrol: Watching you wrestle makes my head hurt. It's this sharp pain right behind my left eye. I feel like the only way to get relief is to take a hammer and smash my skull in. Frankly, this company should release you. But they won't. You know why not?
White is almost up to Denrol, but suddenly two security guards appear and block him. One of them is carrying the infamous tazer. The other speaks to White.
Guard: Don't try anything Mr. White. Beckett's orders. The show needs a color guy.
White sneers at the guards. Meanwhile Denrol ignores the ruckus.
Denrol: It's because White, when you come out to wrestle, all these fans know it's time to stop by the concession stands. In that way White, you are a money-maker. You've sold so many hot dogs, you might as well be called "Oscar Mayer",
White charges forward, but the guards hold him back.
Denrol: So in that way, you do ahve some value. I just wish I didn't have to suffer through your matches.
Denrol smiles and waves at White, who is being escorted to the back by the guards.
Denrol: Hey White, got a new theme song for you!
Denrol starts to sing.
Denrol: Oh I wish I were an Os-car Mayer Wie - ner
That is what I'd tru-ly like to be
'cause if I were an Os-car May-er Wie - ner
Ev-ery one would be in love with me.
The scene cuts away as Denrol laughs to himself, to the boos of the crowd.
Jack: Earlier today, Vaughn Babb’s delicious assistant Rachel Beckett met with Kade Williams. We take you now to that footage.
Denrol: …Delicious assistant?
We cut to Beckett walking down a hallway and opening the door into her office. Williams sits on the coach, his eyes locked on her. She nervously walks past him, sitting down at her desk. An uneasy silence fills the air, seconds ticking by, before it is lifted.
Williams: Yes or no.
Beckett: Kade, I understand where you’re coming from but you kn…
Williams: Yes or no.
Beckett breathes heavily.
Beckett: Then, no. You know what Mr. Babb has said. You are a liability to the WWA moving forward.
Williams: That’s horseshit and you know it! I have given the WWA everything, doing what I felt was best for both it and myself.
Beckett: Especially yourself.
Williams: Cute. I’m glad you’ve become an expert on WWA history it the what, three months you’ve been here. I’m glad that my crimes are ruled worse than those of Damian Thorne, Ian Tense, Dave Harley and Shane Dorian, not to mention every other “bad guy” that has walked through that curtain and entertained. Yet somehow, my making the Damned has made me enemy of the state.
Beckett: So, the owner of the WWA should just overlook all that, because you were “entertaining” and because others have been allowed back? Sorry, it doesn’t work that way. We live in a new era of accountability.
Williams: So when is Trendkiller held accountable?
Beckett: When we see fit and how and possibly by whom we see fit. You are not the guy in charge of the WWA anymore. That boat sailed, right into the wall.
The anger drips off Williams’ face.
Williams: Why does Babb hate me so much?
Beckett is at a loss for how to answer that.
Williams: I…I can’t stop thinking about what happened to Somers and what could of prevented it. I could have prevented it.
Beckett: Excuse me if I find this disingenuous. All of a sudden, you care about someone – one of your chief adversaries. Now, you want to fight Trendkiller at Rage in the Cage, which would get you what you wanted – a high profile match back in the WWA. You’re using this as your excuse to sneak back in the door. We aren’t fools, you know. I understand that it seems like the only requirement to being in charge of a wrestling company is to have an IQ of 30 or less, but I’m no fool nor was I born yesterday.
The wheels are spinning in Williams head.
Williams: I want a full comeback. I want to be back in the main event. I want to see people buying my merchandise and acknowledging me, either through cheers or boos. But, I NEED to get my hands on Trendkiller. So either you give me what I want or one of these days you’re going to show up for Underground and see Trendkiller lying in a pool of his own blood in the parking lot. Maybe you’ll see Kade Williams jump off the Magic Castle at the Independence Day Rumble and level your new hot-shot free agent. But it is going to happen, whether you like it or not.
Williams walks off, stopping at the door.
Williams: And tell your boss that he’s a scared bitch.
“Descent" by Fear Factory, a song he chose to mock the fans and their descent into a 'savage, tribal state,' starts playing over the loud speakers as Varga comes out from the back with a slow, deliberate walk as the fans start booing very loudly. Varga is wearing the new WWA Civilization ‘Hate or Learn to Hate’ T-shirt as he heads down to the ring with a microphone in hand.
Falling victim from neglect
Designed thoughts and intellect
Forgotten and displaced
The crux of my dismay
I feel nothing
I am nothing
I feel nothing
Nothing
How deep I descend?
Until I reach my end?
How deep I descend?
The crowd boos loudly as Varga looks at the fans with disdain before reaching the ring. Varga then climbs into the ring and continues to look on with disgust before smiling deviously.
Deeper into this abyss
Weighted down and sinking fast
Life did not offer me
More than false destiny
I feel nothing
I am nothing
I feel nothing
Nothing
How deep I descend?
Until I reach my end?
How deep I secend?
Varga looks out at the fans, almost disgusted that he has to be in the same building with such filth before starting to plot out what he is going to say. You can almost see the wheels in his skull turning as he gets ready to address the audience. The music stops playing and he begins his monologue of hate.
Varga: After my first appearance on WWA Underground a lot of the wrestlers around here weren’t too happy with me.
He seems to have a smile on his face over all of this which is strange.
Varga: Well it seems as though they all are now wanting to steal my thunder because they’re jealous that I got more of a crowd reaction in one night than they have in their entire pathetic careers. This led to some interesting banter back and forth between me and several competitors here in the WWA. It’s not my fault that they feel threatened by me. They should be because I am better than them and I will destroy them in the ring.
The crowd starts booing which only brings a smile to his face. It only seems to encourage him to get everyone mad at him.
Varga: I’m not just some guy out here talking who can‘t back it up. I can wrestle, actually wrestle not this garbage that they call wrestling now days. I’m talking about REAL wrestling, not entertaining a bunch of pathetic fans with bland storylines and comedic garbage. I’m here to show everyone just how wrestling should be. And if anybody has a problem with what I’m saying, I’ll back it up every time.
This draws another negative from the crowd which only draws a smirk from Varga.
Varga: But before I degrade you fans, the mongrel race of society, like I normally do I must have you all meet some of my friends.
Jack: Uh-oh…
Denrol: Varga has friends?
Varga nods his head, and with a smile, starts addressing the crowd once again.
Varga: Oh yes, the rumors are true. Without any further adieu, let me introduce you people to the saviors of humanity. These are the men and women that will bring civility back to a society that worships violence and degradation. I now bring to you CIVILIZATION!
"Survivors 2" instrumental track from the KKND 2: Krossfire computer game soundtrack starts playing over the loud speakers as Civilization comes out from the back as a unified force to the boos of the fans. The team is led out by the three Reapers, they are followed by billionaire heiress Natasha, the hired thug known simply as Painmaster Tyrone, the infamous Killer Pirates of the Outer Caribbean, the Doom Ninjas, and nationally televised horror show host and actual count from Romania known as Count Von Braun come out behind them.
Jack: This is Civilization? Not what I expected.
Civilization climbs into the ring one at a time. The music stops playing and the group members stand in the ring as the crowd is booing. Varga motions to all of the Civilization members in the ring with him.
Varga: YES! Behold the brilliance that is Civilization! Do these guys look like they know how to party or what?! Who in here wouldn’t want to party with these guys?
Varga motions to his buddies as the crowd starts booing over his sarcasm as it relates to this whole introduction.
Varga: Come on! You know you’d want to party with this guy, right?!
He motions to the giant, evil looking clown standing behind him as the crowd starts booing. However there’s three guys laughing hysterically in the middle of the audience in the midst of all of this which is kind of weird dynamic.
Varga: Let me introduce you to some of my friends here. First are the former PTC World Tag Team Champions the Killer Pirates of the Outer Caribbean.
The crowd boos as the Varga motions to the pirate, Captain Jack Morgan, and the giant clown, the ‘Killer Klown from Outer Space,’ who are standing behind him. Varga smiles and then motions to everyone else in the ring.
Varga: Also here are Count Von Braun who used to compete in GCW, the cyber soldiers known as the Reapers, the Doom Ninjas formerly from GLOBAL wrestling, this big man over here is Painmaster Tyrone, and the last person over here is my girlfriend. Some of you may know here as the billionaire heiress Natasha Smirnoff.
The crowd boos as Varga winks at her before turning back to the audience.
Varga: Hey, Bishop Steele. My girlfriend has a billion dollar fortune under her control. She’s worth more than your crappy little clothing line that nobody wears.
This draws a smile from Varga who clearly is plotting and scheming some more.
Varga: Now then, let me tell you people a little about this fine organization that you see in front of you right now. You as a society lack civility. There are murders in every city, rapes are more frequent, violent crimes are on the rise, and society as a whole is slowly devolving back to a tribal state. Everyone has tattoos and piercings like they do in the tribes living in the jungles. Drive by shootings and gang warfare are basically different tribes fighting over land. Turf warfare is the new war of the tribes like ancient battlefields filled with death. Hieroglyphics are replaced now by tagging. This world is on the verge of collapse. Economies are falling apart, volcanic ash is creating chaos with world travel, world leaders, oil spills are creating environmental disasters, mining disasters are now commonplace when they used to be rare, and there’s been a lot more catastrophic earthquakes recently than in any other time in history. This world is on the brink of going into all out chaos. Who’s going to save you all?
Varga stops and motions around.
Varga: CIVILIZATION, THAT’S WHO! We are your salvation from the nightmare you are soon going to experience. When the world goes to hell, Civilization will be the only ones to bring civility to a world gone to hell. We are only here to help. Trust us…
The crowd boos much to Varga’s dismay.
Varga: Don’t boo me because I’m telling the truth. You all can boo all night but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re the type of scum that is taking this country straight down the toilet.
The boos are still pretty prominent. The three laughing guys in the crowd are still laughing like this is some comedy showcase.
Varga: That said, later on tonight I’m going to give you peons and plebeians a show. Real wrestling with lots of technical moves and skill wrestling. Bishop Steele and Jack Griffiths won’t know what hit them. James Varga is the new power of the WWA and none of the haters backstage in the locker room, many of whom can’t even put on a good match with an inanimate object, can do anything about it.
The crowd boos as Civilization heads out of the arena. Last out of the ring and heading to the back naturally is Varga who is taking the time to enjoy himself by messing with some crowd members some more before finally going backstage.
Jack: Well that was…interesting.
Denrol: This guy’s a genius. He knows just how to get underneath everyone’s skin. That’s a man that children can look up to and be proud of.
Jack: He’s a liar is what he is.
Denrol: He may be a liar but he’s a good one, right?
Jack: Sadly I have to agree with you on that one. Let’s see if he can back it up later tonight.
Jack: The final two from the Bourbon Street Brawl, Chris Bagwell and winner Jaymz Watkins, had a rematch of their Brawl encounter earlier tonight. It was a great back-and-forth contest; let’s pick it up late in the match!
Bagwell has Jaymz locked tightly in his Full Nielson, and the fans are chanting away.
Crowd: Let’s go Jaymz! Let’s go Jaymz!
Jaymz begins shaking his arms, clearly feeding off of the love of the crowd. Bagwell, however, has him locked tight and won’t let go. The ref checks on Jaymz but the Cajun refuses to submit.
Jack: Bagwell won’t let go! Jaymz is going to have to tap out!
Jaymz finally pulls one arm loose, and elbows Bagwell hard in the side of the head. Bagwell releases the hold, and Jaymz leaps and puts a rough Pele kick right upside Bagwell’s head. Bagwell crumples, and Jaymz knifes over for a cover.
One!
Two!
Thr-
But Bagwell kicks out. Jaymz gets to his feet and moves over into the nearby corner, slapping at his leg. The fans know what he’s preparing for, and they begin to stir.
Jack: Jaymz about to put Bagwell under Dark Water!
Bagwell gets to his feet slowly, and as he turns Jaymz takes off for him. The Cajun leaps at Bagwell, but Bagwell has it scouted, and he snags Jaymz across the chest right out of the air and plants him with the Torn Identity!
Jack: Whoa! Torn Identity! What a counter!
One!
Two!
Three!
Ding, Ding!
Trudeau: Your winner… CHRIS BAGWELL!
Jack: And Chris Bagwell stays undefeated in singles competition! Nicely done for him!
Denrol: It’s not easy beating Jaymz, either. This kid’s going places.
Intrepid is standing in the doorway of his locker room arguing with D.Filed. The cameraman approaches as Intrepid is explaining to her that her ‘sacrifice’ was necessary last week when he threw into Chris Bagwell.
D.Filed: That still doesn’t make me not mad about it Intrepid! What kind of a co….
Intrepid lunges at her, pinning her against the doorjamb, breathing heavy through his mask. He stands silent for moment, staring at her with the cold passive eyes of a devoted man.
Intrepid: You will hold your tongue darlin’…I know you are only speaking from a weak faith in the ‘Father’ right now…so I won’t hold it against you.
D.Filed is livid at this point, removes herself from him, and slams the locker room door shut in Intrepid’s face. He turns to find the cameraman standing there and pushes past him as if he weren’t there.
Jack: This man is clearly not stable any longer.
Denrol: I don’t want to talk about this man…apparently we a clip from last week.
Jack: I agree with you for once Denrol, let’s show you what happened last week on Underground.
A little box pops up in the corner of the screen reading: ‘Last Week’
Bagwell: The fact that he wishes he could've done more damage to me than he did? Nahh - that doesn't bother me. What bothers me is that I marched my ass down to New Orleans and I was cracking nine other guys heads against the concrete when he decided to get himself involved. If the WWA security staff did their job, you would've opened this interview by saying, "Ladies and Gentlemen, your WINNER of the 2010 Bourbon Street Brawl..."
Coleman: Well you certainly bring up a valid point, Chris.
Bagwell: God help me if I see that little...
Coleman: ...that little what?
Bagwell: Excuse me.
Bagwell shoves Wallace Coleman out of the way and begins power-walking down the hallway. As the camera pans out, it reveals Intrepid and D.Filed stepping out of one of the locker rooms. Intrepid peers down the hall and notices Bagwell.
Jack: It looks like Bagwell is about to cash in on his revenge!
Denrol: I think Intrepid might've spotted him!
Bagwell quickens his pace to a light sprint. Intrepid, quickly realizing Bagwell's intentions, takes off in the opposite direction just as Bagwell gets within arm's-length. In doing so, he also shoves D.Filed into Bagwell.
Jack: Intrepid is getting away!
Denrol: But I don't think D.Filed is going to be so lucky. Intrepid just shoved her into Bagwell's arms!
Bagwell glares at the woman. But he places her out of the way. He turns to go after Intrepid, but he's vanished. Bagwell sighs in frustration. Another box pops up now reading: ‘Live’
Trudeau: At this time, coming to the ring…He is WWA's Hellbilly from Hot Springs. He is...the one known as...INTREPID!
'Must Kill' by Cavalera Conspiracy begins playing and not even a second after that the entrance ramp begins flashing with a quick burst of white strobe light and Intrepid comes out quickly holding a microphone. He stares out into the crowd grooving to the beat of the music, glaring at them through the eyes of his mask. He suddenly thrusts his arm into the air and yells to cut the music. You can hear nearly everyone in the small arena screaming his or her hatred at him. Intrepid begins a slow march down to the ring.
Intrepid: The WWA just doesn’t seem to understand the situation it has gotten itself into…
The crowd continues to berate him as he makes his way down the aisle. One crowd member steps out holding a sign that reads; ‘Intrepid Is A Heathen Douche bag!’ Intrepid stops walking and steps up to the barricade to instigate staring the man down. He then looks up to the sign before suddenly shoving the man back into two other fans who catch him to keep him from falling down. The offended fan lunges forward only to be caught by event security. The security member begins screaming at Intrepid to get out of here. Intrepid shakes his head and continues the path toward the ring.
Intrepid: Where was I? The WWA has stepped in it big this time…you have no right to interfere with the ‘Father’s’ will and you will suffer for your transgressions in that act. But, that isn’t what I am here for tonight.
Jack: Father…what is he talking about?
Denrol: I’m sure I’ve got an idea but I’d rather not share my sick thoughts right now.
Intrepid: Chris Bagwell…you fight incredibly too hard to deny who you really are deep down. You just don’t seem to get do ya son?
The crowd is nauseated and Intrepid hasn’t really begun to rant yet.
Intrepid: Don’t you see that you’re not a Heathen like all these folks…yet you fight it. I am trying to preach to you and teach to you who it is that you ought to embrace.
The crowd begins to chant.
Crowd: You Suck…
Now chanting from the opposite side of the ring.
Crowd: …Heathens!
The entire crowd chants together.
Crowd: You Suck Heathens!
*clap, clap! clap, clap, clap!*
Intrepid: That’s cute…original but it still only shows your ignorance! But Chris…you fight what you are deep inside and you strive to reach out and attack the messenger who delivers to you a sermon of hope. The ‘Father’ wants you to repent and to relent from your aggression towards me…because you should understand that the ‘Father’ would never allow it anyway.
The lights fade and a combination of gold and white lights beat to the music of "Breathe" by Fabolous. As Chris Bagwell walks out and stands with his arms crossed, watching Intrepid with a look of disgust.
Intrepid: You see…Chris…the ‘Father’ tells me that the only reason why you couldn’t succeed in winning at BSB is the fact that you fight and struggle and deny the faith that he has to offer…the faith that you once had believed! Maybe not in His telling of it but you still believed…
Bagwell is tired of Intrepid’s rant but before he could take off for the ring one of Stone’s masked bodyguards pops from behind the curtain and delivers a nasty shot to the bag of Bagwell’s leg with a baton. Bagwell crumples to the aisle way floor and is quickly scooped up by the bodyguard and held in a restraining maneuver to where Bagwell cannot respond. Intrepid slides out of the ring and flies down the aisle to meet the restrained foe, face – to –face.
Intrepid: All off of this can just go away…you will return to your former glory and honor if you only will say it…say that ‘I believe’ and that ‘I am relieved that I am not like these Heathens.’
The crowd is electric, reaching, and pushing against the event security team lining up along the barricades to restrain the fans. Bagwell leans forward and puts his mouth against the microphone and boldly answers:
Bagwell: NO!
Intrepid leans back and then springing forward in a fluid motion, aiming a closed fist at Chris’ head. Bagwell however kicks backward into the bodyguard’s knee causing both men to be brought forward just enough for Intrepid’s punch to miss its mark. Intrepid cold cocks the bodyguard, releasing Bagwell who latches onto Intrepid immediately.
Jack: This doesn't look good.
The crowd explodes with the sudden turn of events as the two men grapple on the ground. Intrepid gets to his feet and begins searching for his exit but Bagwell catches him by the boot, pulling his foot out from under him. Intrepid lurches forward and topples over the barricade and into the crowd. Bagwell is quick to follow the masked man who is struggling to get out of the predicament. The two battle back and forth, trading punches and flinging the other over chairs and guardrail.
Denrol: This is out of control.
Intrepid makes it to an aisle way and this is where the entire ordeal goes South. Intrepid lunges toward another fan, shoving him to the ground, only to turn toward another fan holding a drink and swats the drink onto the floor. This causes an instant riot to where Bagwell actually begins to continue his chase after Intrepid but stops.
Denrol: What are you doing! Follow him!
Jack: According to the history that Chris Bagwell has had with the other companies that he has worked for…this is a change of character for him. He is actually choosing to stop and help those poor fans the Intrepid assaulted.
Denrol: Who cares…get that hackling hillbilly!
Chris lets Intrepid escape through a nearby exit to lean down and help the fan up off his feet. He brushes the concessions off the poor man and the two shake hands proudly. The crowd is alive and cheering for the rebuttal that Bagwell had given to the insane masked man.
Crowd: Bagwell’s Awesome!
*clap, clap! clap, clap, clap!*
Denrol: You mean to tell me that all of this was a waste of my time?
Jack: No…no, it was not Mr. Glass – Half – Empty.
All of a sudden, the transmission of the show stutters, slows, and grinds to a halt altogether. Before you, the viewer, can become infuriated, your attention is nabbed by a small pop-up window with the WWA logo at the bottom that appears to the right of the video window.
Underground Failing? Click Here!
Confused, but nonetheless intrigued, you click on the pop-up, which promptly causes your screen to become filled corner-to-corner with fifteen to twenty black pop-ups. Slowly, within the collection of windows, an image begins to come into focus: a series of interconnected gears, turning steadily. You can even begin to hear the sound of a clock ticking, quietly at first, growing steadily louder, until it reaches the level of the Underground broadcast. Amidst the dark gears, ghostly white words snake across the screen, each phrase coming into focus for a second or so before being replaced by others...
Feed Subjugated?
Growing Frustrated?
Sweating Bullets?
Discombobulated?
The image zooms and tilts, with the largest gear on the screen ending up filling the bottom half of the image and all other gears fading out. The gear itself eventually stops turning, and it goes out of focus a bit.
Seek Asylum with a Clockwork Champion
As the image returns to focus, it's no longer a gear, but a tremendous side mohawk cut into the shape of a gear. The top of the owner of the mohawk's head can be seen, barely, at the bottom, his bulging eyes staring into your eyes. Across the gear that is his mohawk are two words:
THE COG
Just as quickly as they all appeared, the windows all close at once, leaving behind one of the wildest, most frantic fits of laughter you've ever heard. As it fades, the Underground feed returns to normal as if nothing had happened, and you're left wondering...
Who is The Cog?
"Another Brick in the Wall, Part II" plays as Eddie van Dorn walks out from behind the curtain holding a microphone. He is wearing a tuxedo coat over his t-shirt and shorts, and also a bowtie around his neck brace.
EVD: Good evening, everyone. I trust you're having a great time, as you should be since it's a WWA show and all.
The crowd cheers.
EVD: That's good, but I wish I could say I was having a great time as well. As I'm sure you're all aware, I was the acting manager for one Nicholas Adams.
He gestures at the embellishments to his normal outfit.
EVD: Recently, he has decided to take a more lax schedule. He's taking the callow way, if you will. But clever puns aside, that left me with a bit of a problem regarding what to do with myself now that Nick won't be wrestling on a regular basis anymore. After putting a bit of thought into this, I decided
that I have been left with no choice but to make my return to the ring.
The crowd cheers again, a bit more loudly.
Jack: Is he serious? With that neck brace?
Denrol: He's done dumber things.
Eddie begins walking slowly toward the squared circle.
EVD: In fact, how would all of you like to see me return to the ring... right here tonight?
More cheers as he climbs to the ring apron and steps through the ropes. He stands in the middle of the ring, a hand in the pocket of his shorts.
EVD: You've got it.
He pulls an index card from said pocket and begins reading from it.
EVD: Our next match of the evening is scheduled for one fall, with a fifteen-minute time limit...
Denrol: Oh, you've got to be kidding me.
EVD: Introducing first, from Atlanta, Georgia... weighing 255 pounds... he is a time traveller and former member of the X-Men...
Eddie puts a hand to his ear as if he's being given instructions.
EVD: Oh, sorry. I've been slightly misinformed. Anyway, accompanied by Alexis, this is Bishoooop Steeeele!
The lights dim and "I'm Back" starts to play. Bishop Steele appears from behind the curtain, the hardened WWA fans recognize him from his time in GCW and cheer for him as he makes his way to the ring.
Denrol: Are there cue cards somewhere? Because really, I was the only rookie good enough to have people chanting his name so soon.
Never let you down I’ma shine on sight
Keep your mind on your grind and off mine alright
He slides into the ring, climbs a turnbuckle and throws his arms into the air, absorbing the cheers of the crowd; his attention turns to the curtain as "Tip the Scales" by Rise Against hits.
Denrol: Seriously, when am I going to be let in on the joke here?
Jack: He's very charismatic. It's not hard to understand.
EVD: His partner, from London, England... he weighs 220 pounds... The Uncrowned Champion, Jack Griffiths!
These machines feed on the tears of broken lifes and dying dreams
From behind the curtain Jack Griffiths appears, dressed ready for a fight he high-fives a few members of the audience before breaking into a sprint for the ring.
We’re throwing wrenches in the gears
Our lifes will not be lived in vain
He slides into the ring where he pops up to his feet and throws up a devil's horn symbol to the crowd before taking off his t-shirt and throwing it into the crowd.
Jack: One lucky member of the audience is going home with an original run "Uncrowned Champion" t-shirt!
Denrol: Lucky? Pfft!
As Jack and Bishop prepare for their match with the customary motivational talk, "Descent" by Fear Factory a song he chose to mock the fans and their descent into a 'savage, tribal state,' starts playing over the loud speakers as Varga comes out from the back with a slow, deliberate walk as the fans start booing very loudly. He is accompanied to the ring by Natasha Smirnoff, his new girlfriend and the heiress whose money funds the entire organization. The three mysterious Reapers guard the entrance as Varga and Natasha walk to the ring holding hands.
EVD: And their opponents... introducing first, weighing in at 235 pounds and hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada... this is madness! No! This... is... VARGAAAA!
As the crowd becomes increasingly annoyed by the slow moving debutant, their boos get louder; finally reaching the ring he leaves Natasha at ringside and enters the ring, stopping yet again to absorb more boos. When they realise all is safe, the Reapers return to guard the Civilisation dressing room.
Jack: Denrol! Wake up!
Denrol: Sorry... entrance so long... fell asleep.
Jack: I promise you folks that Denny will be back to his best before the match starts!
Denrol: DON"T CALL ME DENNY!!!
Jack: Thought that might work!
Jack and Denrol are suddenly interrupted.
EVD: And last but certainly not least, he weighs 240 pounds and comes to us from Denver, Colorado... he is both The Torture Machine and the current WWA Champion... Luuuuucas Black!
Flashing red strobes engulf the arena, leaving the assembled crowd in staccato, jerking movement. Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones echoes throughout the small venue. Lucas Black, with short hair as black as night, steps from behind the curtain, clad in black leather pants, black boots and black elbow pads.
I see a red door and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
Jack: And there he is. Our heavyweight champion.
Denrol: It really seems like he's been champion much longer than he actually has.
Jack: He's just that dominant.
The flashing red strobes change to flashing black light as Tiffani Andrews, clad in black leather, steps from the behind the curtain to stand at his side. He places his black gloved hands on his hips and glares at the assembled masses, the worms that writhe beneath his notice.
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes
I see a line of cars and they’re all painted black
With flowers and my love both never to come back
As he moves toward the ring, Tiffani falls into step behind him, head held high. His lips curl into a morbid grin as he moves ever closer to the ring.
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like a new born baby it just happens every day
I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and it has been painted black
The worms boo and hiss, spewing their blind judgments. But then the cattle always hate their predators.
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts
Its not easy facing up when your whole world is black
Lucas enters the ring nimbly, hopping over the top rope and slowly advancing on his prey.
Denrol: Don't forget Jack, that if your namesake lays his hands on Black at any point tonight then he loses his title shot at Rage in the Cage!
Knowing that, Griffiths goes and stands on the apron; allowing Varga and Black to decide who is starting the match against Steele. They eventually settle on Varga starting.
Jack: Black letting the debutant Varga know who is in charge tonight!
Denrol: And so he should, he isn't WWA Champion for no reason!
Black steps on to the apron and the bell rings.
Ding, Ding.
Griffiths immediately reaches over the ropes and blind tags himself into the match.
Jack: Griffiths wants to make sure that he is involved tonight, cause if Black is in the legal match when Steele makes a tag then Griffiths won't be able to fight back!
Wanting to teach the debutant Varga that things are different in the WWA Griffiths jumps to the top rope before springing across the ring catching Varga off his guard with a flying clothesline, knocking the leader of Civilisation down.
Jack: Griffiths wasting no time!
Varga however is not down for long, almost immediately getting to his feet, only to be met by a dropkick.
Jack: Varga is down again!
As Varga gets up Griffiths pulls him in tight, locking him in a side headlock; Griffiths then hooks his right leg behind Varga's right leg and drops him with a leg hook DDT.
Jack: Thats new! We've never seen Griffiths do that.
Denrol: I may have, but I don't really care!
Griffiths covers.
One
Two
Varga kicks out and Griffiths looks down in disbelief.
Denrol: Griffiths looks like he wanted that to be his new trademark move!
Griffiths lifts Varga up before nailing him with a picture perfect Northern Lights Suplex.
Jack: That was a beautiful move!
Griffiths covers again.
One
Two
Varga kicks out again!
Denrol: Still not good enough!
Griffiths looks down at Varga and then smiles, he throws himself backwards looking for Fantaisie Impromptu.
Denrol: Varga gets his knees up!
Griffiths rolls around on his back, before getting to his feet. He goes to pick Varga up but his met by a finger poke to the eyes.
Denrol: We knew his superior skills would be displayed at some point, but I wasn't expecting it so soon!
Jack: You mean his cheating skills?
Denrol: No...
Seizing the opportunity Varga nails Griffiths with a european uppercut, knocking him down for the first time and before Griffiths can get up he is met by a follow up elbow to the throat.
Denrol: If you can't breath, you can't fight! I like this Varga!
Varga quickly picks Griffiths off of the mat before dropping Griffiths back to the ground with a reverse neckbreaker.
Jack: Varga appears to be in control now!
Varga covers.
One
Two
Griffiths kicks out but keeping the pressure on, Varga rolls Griffiths over and attempts to lock in a Camel Clutch, however as soon as he starts trying to apply pressure Griffiths fights to his feet, falling backwards landing on Varga.
Jack: Griffiths breaks the hold!!
Scrambling to his feet, Griffiths reaches down and lifts Varga to his feet, only to be met by a kick to the gut. As Griffiths doubles over Varga grabs him by the neck and pulls him down for a DDT.
Denrol: Varga is firmly in control of Griffiths.
Varga looks down at Griffiths with a look of utter disdain, he sees Griffiths as a piece of garbage and isn't ashamed to admit it. He lifts the self proclaimed champion to his feet and passes Jack's arm over his shoulder.
Denrol: We could get our first glimpse of MACGRUBER!
Griffiths however is able to elbow out of it and lunges towards Steele tagging him in.
Jack: Griffiths gets the heck out of dodge!
Denrol: Heck?
Jack: Yeah, I don't swear remember!
Steele enters the ring and is immediately met by a kick to the gut, once doubled over Varga attempts to snap suplex Steele but it is blocked and Steele reverses into a suplex of his own.
Jack: Steele nails a suplex and once again Varga is down.
Steele wastes no time, he snaps back to his feet before lifting Varga back to his feet and pulling him ready for a powerbomb.
Jack: Steele looking for a big move!
Steele hoists Varga on this shoulders before spiking him down witha huge powerbomb; however the powerbomb leaves Varga close enough to reach into the ring and tag himself in.
Denrol: A chance now for Black to make his impression!
Jack: Similarly though Steele could truly make a huge impression on his debut.
Black enters the ring and Steele charges at him, knocking him down with a clothesine, Black effectively shrugs it off though, getting to his feet straight away.
Denrol: It takes much more than that to put a Champion down!
Steele attempts to get close to Black again but this time he is met with a stiff roundhouse kick which staggers Steele long enough for Black to nail him with a russian leg sweep.
Jack: Black showing his talent here, I might not agree with his actions but he is champion for a reason!
Black stares across the ring at Griffiths, who stares back at him not even blinking! Blank then turns his attention back to Steele, stalking him as he gets to his feet. As Steele gets to his feet, Black is stood behind him and locks him up for a Reverse Underhook DDT.
Denrol: THE MALEDICTION!
Without stopping to thing, Black locks in The Curse of Suffering.
Jack: Its all over now! Unless Griffiths can make the save!
Griffiths jumps into the ring, and goes to break the hold up but stops.
Denrol: He can't! He'd lose that match at Rage in the Cage.
Griffiths grabs Steele's leg and tries to pull him towards the ropes but the combined dead weight of Black and Steele is just too much.
Steele: BREAK THE DAMN HOLD GRIFFITHS!!!
Griffiths finally realises that he can't do anything to help and instead begins to plead with the ref to ring the bell.
Jack: Griffiths is powerless to stop Black adding another victory, Steele needs to break the hold himself!
As Griffiths is pleading with the referee, Steel starts trying to push himself to his feet using his one free hand. Powerless to go on Steele taps.
Ding, Ding.
Jack: Black picks up another win and now we have to watch as Black holds on for longer!
The referee starts a count.
One
Two
Three
Four
Fiv...
Black breaks the hold as Griffiths removes himself, dejected and embarassed from the ring, ready to make his way to the back.
Jack: Jack Griffiths is out of here.
Denrol: So he should! He had a chance to stop Black winning but he wouldn't do it! He was selfish!
Jack: Wait a minute, Black doesn't want Griffiths to leave.
In the ring, Lucas has a microphone in hand.
Lucas: Not yet, Jack. You and I have unfinished business.
Griffiths turns, but doesn't move toward the ring.
Jack: He's keeping his distance.
Lucas: I know that you're a little upset by the challenges that have been thrown around in the locker room lately. It seems that everyone wants a piece of the World Title. But you're absolutely right. I promised you a shot at my title – assuming that it was still in my grasp – at Rage in the Cage.
Griffiths nods, but keeps his eyes carefully trained on Lucas.
Lucas: So, I'll make you a deal. If you come to this ring, step between these ropes and show the courage to shake my hand, then I will forsake all other challengers until you've had your title shot.
Griffiths appears to ponder the thought for a moment, but then shakes his head with a smile. A WWA tech hands him a microphone.
Griffiths: I'm not that stupid, Black. That would qualify as laying my hands on you and then my match would be gone. I'm not going to fall for it. You can sit around playing all your little games, but when it comes down to it you don't want to face me at Rage in the Cage. Because you know that I'm going to bring everything I have to take you down!
The fans burst into cheers, chanting Jack's name.
Crowd: Griffiths! Griffiths! Griffiths!
Those cheers quickly turn to gasps when Tiffani slams a steel chair down over Jack's head.
CRAXXT!
Jack: Oh, that's terrible! Lucas was just keeping Griffiths distracted!
Denrol: And the ploy worked brilliantly.
Lucas leaves the ring quickly, making his way to Griffiths. Griffiths begins to regain his feet, but Lucas charges forward, delivering a hard roundhouse kick to Jack's chest. Griffiths hits the ground again.
Jack: This is terrible. He can't even fight back without giving up his match at Rage in the Cage!
Lucas pulls Griffiths up by the hair and drags him back to the ring. Once there, he whips Griffiths across the aisle, directly into the steel post.
Denrol: Those steel ring posts do not move, trust me.
Jack crumbles to his knees, but Lucas doesn't relent. He pulls Griffiths back up and drags him up onto the ring apron.
Jack: I don't know what Lucas Black has in mind here, but it can't be good.
Lucas continues the ascent, pulling Griffiths unsteadily to the top turnbuckle before following after himself.
Denrol: That is a dangerous place to be. Both men are precariously positioned on that top turnbuckle.
Jack: And look at Tiffani!
On the outside, Tiffani has set up a steel chair, sitting sideways to the ring corner. She smiles and backs away quickly.
Jack: Oh no.
Lucas Black pulls Jack Griffiths from the top turnbuckle in a three-quarter facelock. They soar through the air, coming down in a horrifying ace crusher. Jack's head bounces from the steel chair, Lucas just barely clearing it. The chair snaps in a rending, shattering squeal. The crowd roars its disapproval.
Denrol: Jack Griffiths has been decimated by The Gallows to a steel chair on the outside!
Lucas takes a moment to overcome the impact, but eventually climbs to his feet. Blood pours from the wound on Griffith's forehead, pooling around him. Lucas looks to Tiffani and holds out his hand. She hands him a slip of paper, a photograph. He stands over the helpless Griffiths and smiles before dropping the photo on his chest.
Jack: Get a camera in there. What did Lucas just drop on him?
Lucas and Tiffani walk away. There on Jack's heaving chest lies a photograph of a beautiful young girl, full of hope and innocence, her face scratched out with deliberate malice.
Jack: That's a photo of Samara. My god, that's just ...disrespectful.
Denrol: Mind games, Jack. Mind games.
Backstage, we see The New Sensation Scotty Carnage. He is searching the corridors.
Denrol: Is Carnage lost?
As he reaches Ms Beckett’s door, it bursts open and Dave Harley bounces out, nearly knocking his partner over in the process.
Carnage: There you are. Been looking for you all day, man.
Harley: Look no further, partner. The Extreme Machine is in the building.
Harley grins and holds up a sheet of paper.
Carnage: What’s that all about?
Harley: Just a simple matter of a clause in my Retribution contract. It’s taken a couple of weeks to iron things out, but it looks like the Devil finally has his day.
Carnage: A clause in the contract?
Harley: The match we signed for Extreme Carnage v Team Kash at Retribution contained a little hidden clause which Fincher and I drew up. We won the match, my clause comes in to effect. Beckett argued against it, but now it’s ironclad.
Harley hands the contract over to Scotty.
Harley: I’m gone. The contract stipulated that if we won at WWA Retribution, I would be entitled to my contract release and paid for the loss of earnings from Hollywood that I would have received for never rejoining this stinking company.
Carnage: So that’s it? You’re gone from the WWA?
Harley: Well, almost. My contract covers me for one final week in the company. I’ve just been over the paperwork with Beckett and I can officially announce that not only will next week be my final night working for the WWA, but it will also be Dave Harley Appreciation Week - a token gesture for my years of dedicated service to the company.
Carnage: What about Extreme Carnage, man?
Harley: Don’t worry, dude, your contract is safe. But next week on Underground, the Extreme Machine retires.
Harley walks away from Carnage, who looks shocked.
Jack: Is that correct? Harley retires next week?
Denrol: That’s the word I’m getting from the office. I guess this is the end of an era.
Jack: And next week? Harley Appreciation Night?
Denrol: And why not? Is the Extreme Machine not deserving of your appreciation?
Jack: No comment!
John Grant [c] Vs RJ Stone
Denrol: Well, it seems that after all our drama of the evening we can get down to business.
Jack: That’s right ladies and gentlemen, as my respected colleague put it…it’s our main event.
Denrol: Respected?
Jack: Yeah, well…
A metal version of “Lux Aeterna” comes on over the PA. As the eerie piano beginning ends the song kicks into full gear, RJ Stone stalks out from behind the curtain. Hendrick follows next, clad in a black suit, the rest of the security team march behind Hendrick and they fan out behind RJ. He glares out at the audience, a cold, predatory look on his face.
Trudeau: Ladies and gentlemen, now making his way to the ring, weighing in at 244 pounds, from Fresno, California, RJ Stoooone!
He slowly makes his way down the aisle, his eyes full of grim determination. He pays no attention to the fans slathering him in boos. He slides under the bottom rope when he reaches the apron. The security team surrounds the ring, one man for each side. Once in the ring, RJ slowly moves over to the closest turnbuckle and climbs up onto it. He stares a hole in the fans, his arms hanging at his side. He hops down after a few long moments and proceeds to sit down in the corner and coldly stare off into nothingness.
Denrol: You still need to get your money in Jack if you plan to pick your winner…
Jack: Mic…ro…phone!!
Denrol: Well, uh, hmm…
A loud bell is heard, and the lights in the arena swiftly fade to darkness. A second bell follows, followed by a third and a fourth, and as the hard guitar riffs of "Hells Bells" by AC/DC play as the bells eventually cease. The music picks up and John Grant pops out from behind the curtain with his arms crossed in front of him in an X shape, with his fists balled, he holds the pose for a moment, and then stretches his arms out to his sides, as far as they'll extend. Just before the lyrics start, Grant can be seen speaking a single word.
Grant: YEAH!
Trudeau: Here is your WWA United States Champion, weighing in at 227 pounds, from San Francisco, California, Joohhn Grant!
Grant starts making his way to the ring, his attention fully focused on front of him. Halfway up the ramp, he stops, and raises his right arm, fist held high to the sky. He holds that pose for a moment before continuing on his way to the ring. About this time, Grant has reached the ring, and he's mouthing the words "Hells Bells" along with the song. Entering the ring, he makes his way to the far corner, and lifts himself onto the second turnbuckle, again lifting his right fist high, and straight, into the air. Then he moves back down to the ring canvas, getting into his corner and rolling his shoulders to loosen up a little before his match.
Ding, Ding!
Both men circle each other cautiously, reaching out at each other and stomping the mat, testing the reaction times.
Jack: I have a feeling these guys are going to rip each other apart.
Denrol: That’s what I’m hoping for.
Grant finally slides in, dropping to one knee, hooking Stone by the waist. Stone throws a stiff elbow into the side of Grant’s head, popping him loose. Grant is able to keep his wits to himself as he grabs the arm that delivered him the elbow shot, spins slightly around on his knee while locking Stone’s arm over their shoulder. Grant leans forward pulling on Stone’s arm and throws him over, lifting him off the ground, slamming onto his back.
Jack: Grant just tested the structural integrity of the ring with Stone’s body on that one.
Stone doesn’t hesitate as he flips onto his stomach, pushing up off the mat onto his knees. He is able to deliver a vicious short-armed opened palm strike into the stomach of the incoming Grant. Grant doubles forward and Stone pushes up with a strike to the throat, stunning Grant as he continues to fall forward. As Stone is gaining momentum up onto his feet, he locks onto Grant’s head and quickly stuffs him under his arm. Stone returns to the mat with Grant in tow, finisher the combination with a stiff DDT.
Denrol: Tylenol anyone?
Stone is back onto his feet pulling a stunned Grant up with him. Without much pause, Stone slips Grant into a front face lock, and then lifts the Grant by their head, neck, and falls back, snapping Grant over onto his back. Stone rolls over covering Grant, adding a hook of the leg for assurance. The referee moves in and begins to count.
One!
Tw~!
Grant gets an arm up but Stone sits up without so much as a look of annoyance. The crowd is yelling and hollering at the guard detail but they continue to keep their post without acknowledging the insults. As Stone methodically gets up from the mat, he turns to grab Grant but finds that he is already one step ahead of him. Grant pushes forward delivering a forearm smash across the bridge of Stone’s nose. Stone stumbles backward, staggering as he reaches and covers his nose. Grant uses the brief amount of space, popping up from the mat, launching himself at Stone and both men go back down as Grant straddles Stone reigning down mounted punches. The referee runs in pulling Grant up off from Stone, warning him about the punches.
Crowd: Break his nose!
Apparently, the crowd had seen it before the camera did, but as Stone sits up he is reaching at his nose which is now bleeding. Stone pats at the oozing blood, and then looks at it and a glimmer of a smile breaks. One of the hooded guards moves forward but abruptly halts when Stone shoots him a silent command with a look.
Denrol: So, you think Stone actually liked that?
Jack: Probably so.
Stone stands up as the referee finishes reprimanding Grant and walks over to ask if he is okay, and the referee is sent a long cold stare in response. Grant marches forward to take advantage of the exchange but Stone simply reaches out to slap him in the face once he is close. Grant steps back understanding quickly that Stone is not as unaware as it might seem. The referee removes himself from the two and they begin circling again.
Denrol: It is almost like a dogfight between these two.
Stone reaches out again, slapping Grant, which produces the result he was hoping for but with an unexpected twist. Grant snaps forward, feinting a move for Stone’s upper body that brings Stone toward him. Grant drops down to the mat hooking Stone’s leg with one foot in front of the ankle, tripping him down by pushing with their other leg on the back of the Stone’s legs. With a smile on his face Grant follows Stone down with an elbow to the back of the head, forcing Stone’s head hard into the mat.
Jack: That opened that nose up more.
Denrol: If it weren’t broken before, it is now.
With Grant behind Stone, he straddles Stone’s neck with his legs and then places his legs between the Stone’s legs. Grant maneuver’s and puts his feet under the Stone’s knees, sits back so that he is now sitting on the mat pushing Stone’s shoulders onto the canvas. The referee moves in to quickly investigate the maneuver before starting his count. With more blood staring to pour out of Stone’s nose he tries to shift his weight as the referee counts.
One!
Two!
One of the hooded guards who are in plain sight of the referee jumps up onto the mat and begins waving. The referee has no choice but to break his count and move to reprimand Stone’s associate. Grant lets go of the move, jumping up to head off the other guard who is climbing in from the referee’s blind spot. Seeing an excellent opportunity, Stone gets up as quickly as he can, runs over to block the referee’s sight as he argues with the one guard and actually tries to buy a precious few more seconds by scolding the guard for coming to his aid.
Jack: This doesn’t look good.
As Grant reaches the other guard who is making a very slow attempt to get into the ring, Hendrick slides in belly first behind him. The guard Grant chooses to head off decides to move away so Grant turns around only to find Hendrick. Hendrick reaches around one side of Grant’s body and locks his arms around him in a waistlock. Hendrick quickly lifts Grant off the mat until he is upside down and drops Grant forward. Hendrick kneels down and Grant lands stomach first across his knee. Hendrick pushes him off and retreats back onto the floor as the referee is about to turn.
Denrol: Wicked Gutbuster by Hendrick.
Jack: It ought to be against the rules to have that many men at ringside with you.
Stone wipes the blood from his nose only smearing it for a more dramatic look. He rushes past the referee to Grant, grabbing one of his arms, bending it behind Grant’s back. Stone reaches around Grant’s body with his free arm and dead lifts Grant up over his shoulder and falls backwards, dropping Grant onto his back and onto the hammerlocked arm.
Jack: Stone is brutalizing here Grant tonight.
Stone rolls Grant onto his stomach and grabs both of Grant’s arms. Stone stands with on foot in the middle of Grant’s shoulder blades and pulls back on his arms. The crowd is electric and tossing insults and actual objects at both the guards and into the ring. The referee briefly removes himself from the action just long enough to sweep the foreign objects out of the ring. Instantly Stone nods to his guard detail and one of the guards quickly marches down the aisle and through the curtain. Another guard member steps up onto the ring steps, which draws the referee away to the corner.
Denrol: The referee is getting his workout tonight
Jack: Yeah, I have a feeling that he is about to get something else.
As soon as the referee is in the corner reprimanding the guard, Stone quickly scoops up a stunned Grant and spins him in full circle. Once Stone had created enough momentum, he launches Grant stumbling toward the cornered referee. Grant plows into the referee and Stone follows closely behind, sandwiching them further. The referee’s face is an utter look of shock as the air is forcefully driven from his body. The referee crumples to the mat and the guard rolls him out on to the floor. Grant hits the mat also and Stone sets him to face the entrance.
Jack: What is going on?
Stone marches over to Hendrick who hands him a microphone, towel and cell phone. Stone returns to the middle of the ring as he towels off the bloodied nose before speaking. The one hooded guard returns from behind the curtain leading out a small, hooded individual. He stops the person and makes them get onto the knees in the middle of the aisle. Grant is attempting to get up, watching the commotion ahead of him. Stone drops the towel and wags his finger at Grant.
Stone: Hold on one minute there John. I have something I want to show you no that we have a minute alone.
Stone points over to the guard nearest the referee.
Stone: I’m on the clock, so tell when it is up.
Directing his attention back to the hooded figure and Grant Stone continues.
Stone: Now, where was I? Oh yes, I have a little thing I would like to call…leverage. You see John, I’m tired of you and well…
Stone points toward the hooded figure and smiles.
Stone: …you know whom getting in my way. The two of you have caused me more time and energy in my quest to accomplish my goals.
Grant’s face goes pale and he warily attempts to pull himself up using the turnbuckles. Stone holds up his hand and the guard standing over the hooded figure pulls out his baton and readies himself. Grant snaps to and freezes like a statue when he makes it up to his knees.
Stone: Now that I have your attention John, all I simply want you to do is…get…out…of…my…way.
Grant yells at Stone that there is no way that the hooded figure is who he is implying that it is.
Grant: There is no way that you are going to make me believe that is who you say it is…
Stone smiles broadly, staring coldly at Grant kneeling helplessly in the corner. Stone checks the guard over the referee who nods his approval and then Stone tosses the cell phone to Grant.
Stone: I knew that you would saw that John…so I came prepared. Call her…I promise that I did nothing other than have escorted to your match. Call her…I assure you that she’ll be able to pick up. Now tricks, you dial it for yourself.
Grant kneels there for a moment staring at the phone on the mat in front of him. The crowd is screaming at him to call her and assailing Stone with much harsher remarks. Grant suddenly leaps at the phone and dials the number. As if almost like a switch, the crowd hushes itself down enough to listen and after a brief moment, a cell phone begins to ring. The second ring chimes out as the hooded figure pulls a cell phone from a pocket. Grant doesn’t bother to finish the call as he explodes off the mat toward Stone.
Denrol: Oh my dear God! This man is insane.
Jack: Here comes John’s friend Jens Müeller.
Müeller fires through the curtain and launches at the guard over the hooded figure and performs a standing head scissors, flinging the guard into the barricade. Meanwhile, Grant has successfully overwhelmed the arrogant Stone, grabbing him and bending him forward slighting. Grant then jumps and drives both knees into Stone’s head, pulling him down onto the mat.
Crowd: Let’s go referee…get up!
Intrepid is the next to pop through the curtain as the crowd screams with disgust. The Hellbilly delivers a flying shoulder tackle into the German luchadore, sending both men over the barricade and into the crowd. Intrepid stands him up and the two begin to brawl through the crowd.
Denrol: I don’t if that was a good idea on Intrepid’s part.
Jack: I’m quite sure that he cares.
The referee is finally standing up out on the floor and begins to shake his cobwebs loose. The guard that had been nearby quickly feigns that wants to help, tried to assist the referee to his feet, and is rewarded with a firm reprimand. The referee sees the chaos inside the ring as Grant is mounted on Stone reigning down mounted punches galore. He slides in and rushes to the scene, again pulling Grant off.
Referee: I warned you about those punches John!
Grant sits looking at the referee in amazement.
Grant: Where have you been all this time?
As Grant is standing, searching for the hooded figure and arguing with the referee, Stone lurches towards Grant, raises him up over his shoulders and places him into a fireman's carry position. From here, Stone twists the opposite way and quickly switches back throwing Grant’s legs out backwards, dropping down to the mat while taking hold of Grant’s head to force him to fall into a high impact cutter. Stone hooks the leg for a pin and the referee is forced to count.
One!
Two!
Three!
Ding, Ding!
Trudeau: Here is your winner by pinfall…and NEW WWA Untied States Champion…RJ Stooone!
Jack: I can’t believe what just happened.
Denrol: I can’t believe I just lost in the betting pool!
With his newly acquired championship belt in his hands, Stone looks down at the fallen Grant and then stomps him across the back of the neck.
Jack: Hey, that's uncalled for!
Grinning, Stone wraps the championship belt around his waist and then proceeds to stomp on Grant repeatedly across the spine and back of the neck, to the boos of the crowd. Then he rolls out of the ring and grabs a chair, slides back in and raises it menacingly over his head, staring down at Grant.
Stone: Excuse me! John! Thanks for finally getting out of my way!
Crowd: You suck! You suck! You suck!
Not paying the fans any heed, Stone swings at Grant's head, but Grant rolls out of the way and Stone hits nothing but canvas. Hands hurting from the impact, Stone clinches his fists and balls up around his abdomen, but as Grant goes for a DDT, Stone drops to his knees and throws an uppercut into the holy of holy on Grant.
Denrol: Ding dong, anybody home?
Jack: If they are, they're not coming out for a while after that shot!
Shaking his hands, Stone picks Grant up with both his hands wrapped around Grant's neck and then stare him straight in the eyes as he applies pressure, slowly strangling Grant. Intrepid makes his way back to ringside, minus one luchadore.
Jack: And here's the cav... al... ry?
Denrol: Doubtful.
Intrepid slides into the ring under the bottom rope and Stone grabs Grant from behind in a choke, wrapping his arm around Grant's neck. Intrepid gets right up in Grant's face and shouts incoherently at him, though the words "heathen" and "enemy" can clearly be heard. Then Intrepid starts laying into Grant's abdomen with his fists, doubling Grant over despite the choke around his neck. Intrepid steps back, Stone spins Grant around, kicks him in the gut and...
Jack: Impaler DDT!
Denrol: Grant's skull might well have caved in!
Seeing that Grant is down and out, Inrepid goes to the corner and climbs the turnbuckles, positioning himself perched atop the ring ropes. He stands up, points at the crowd, that boos him with renewed vigor and then he leaps off, cracking his own forehead into Grant's skull. Intrepid staggers back to his feet and leans into the ropes trying to clear the cobwebs, while Stone grins widely at the pain Grant obviously is in.
Stone: Check this out John.
The hooded figure enters the ring. Stone whips the hood off to show that the person under the hood is actually D.Filed, Intrepid’s little witch. She smiles cryptically, grabbing Grant by the head and kisses him passionately on the mouth. The dazed Grant can barely defend himself.
Crowd: BOOOO!
D. Filed releases Grant and leaves the ring. Stone and Intrepid start to circle the beaten Grant.
Jack: Are they done?
Denrol: I don't thi-
"The Great Southern Trendkill" obliterates the PA and from behind the curtain comes the mad bull-rushing Trendkiller, who charges into the ring and before Intrepid has a chance to react, Trendkiller grabs his head, shoves it in between his legs, hoists Intrepid up and plants him with a Southern Comfort. Rolling to his feet with surprising speed, Trendkiller turns to Stone, who has barely had time to react, but now finds himself in a spot of trouble and drop-kicks the big man in the chest, bouncing him off the ropes. As Trendkiller comes back, Stone out of desperation tries a clothesline, but Trendkiller ducks Stone's arm, then puts his own arm across Stone's chest for a yurinagi, hoists Stone up, and twists the smaller man's body in mid-air to drop Stone down spine-first across his knee.
Jack: And Trendkiller is here to save the day with a spinebreaker!
Denrol: What's his problem?
Stone gets back to his feet, grimacing and holding a hand to his back, but as Trendkiller charges at him with a spear, he leap-frogs him and sends Trendkiller head-first into the turnbuckle. As the big man staggers out of the corner, Stone leaps onto his back and applies a rear naked choke. Trendkiller huffs and puffs, but since Stone has locked his hooks in Trendkiller's groin, the big man can't just shrug him off. Trendkiller leans forward, shrugging Stone further up his back, until Stone's head protrudes above his own and then drops to his knees, spiking Stone's head into the canvas. Stone bounces wildly off the mat and rolls around, clutching at the top of his head, until he rolls out of the ring and, with help from the now-recovered Intrepid, stagger back towards the curtain.
Jack: Looks like Trendkiller wants to be friends with John Grant.
Denrol: I wouldn't be too sure.
Grant gets up from the mat and stares at Trendkiller. Then he walks over to the large man and extends his hand in a show of respect, urging Trendkiller to shake it. Trendkiller stares at the hand incredulously and then grins and grabs Grant's hand. The crowd cheers! Trendkiller grins at Grant, holding on to Grant's hand. And Trendkiller's grin fades. And Grant's grin fades. A headbutt staggers Grant long enough for Trendkiller to shove Grant's head between his legs and bring him up and DOWN with a Southern Comfort! And the crowd once again boo.
Jack: I don't think he's capable of having any friends.
Denrol: Hang on, I think he wants a microphone.
Trendkiller gets in the center of the ring and raises the newly acquired talk stick to his mouth.
Trendkiller: I don't take sides. Boo me, cheer me, I don't give a damn. If you're in my way, I will take you out! But what I do give a damn about is Kade Williams at Rage in the Cage. Make it happen! I want to destroy him!
Trendkiller drops the microphone and stalks out of the ring and out through the curtain, fuming and shouting at everyone.
Denrol: Couldn't he just have asked for an interview?
Jack: This could be said to be slightly more impactful. We out of time, we will see you next week on Underground.
Next WWA: Underground
Main Event
Rookie Battle Royal
Winner gets US Title Shot
Bagwell
Price
Shame
Varga
Steele
KHOAS
Korver
Trendkiller Vs Shaman
"Chapter I" By Oliver White
"Chapter IV" By Oliver White
"Chapter VI" By Jack Griffiths
"Chapter VIII" By Travis C. St.Clair
Produced by Joe Stock