EWA Entertainment Presents: Battlelines 28March 31, 2017KFC Yum! CenterLouisville, KY

Battlelines 28 Results

Mike Malone: Ladies and gentlemen, the road to London makes its final stop right here tonight in the Bluegrass State! We are live from the KFC Yum! Arena in Louisville, Kentucky…and this is Battlelines 28! And what a show we have for you, as we’ll hear from our new World Heavyweight Champion – the man holding the gold for the incredible eleventh time in his career, Grady Smith.

Vincent Ashe: Malone, with any luck at all, Grady will come out here and forfeit the belt, retire, and save us all from having to watch another one of his matches! I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I think I’m actually pulling for Ray Willmott in the main event at Live From London!

MM: Tonight we’ll also have Grace Goeren challenging Maggie McIntyre in a championship match that she didn’t earn —

VA: — blasphemer!

MM: — and on top of that, we have a special treat for you all tonight. After a long three months, the Incomparable One, Chris Kage, makes his return to the ring here tonight!

VA: He should’ve stayed gone, Malone. Coming back to the EWA may be the biggest mistake of Chris Kage’s life…

(As quickly as the words leave the mouth of Vincent Ashe the lights in the KFC Yum Center go completely black and a single red spotlight shines alone at the top of the entrance ramp. A few moments pass and the crowd begins to stir as they try and make sense of what’s to come next. As the silence reaches it’s breaking point the Jumbotron begins to flash the words..)




(Suddenly the lights in the KFC Yum Center illuminate into a red and white strobe pattern and a musical interlude drops like a ton of bricks on the capacity crowd.)




(”I Will Not Bow” by Breaking Benjamin begins to blare over the PA system. And into the red spotlight steps the former three-time EWA World Heavyweight Champion Chris Kage and his beautiful girlfriend Stacy Vandervort. )

MM: It looks like we’re not going to have to wait any longer! Listen to this crowd! They’re on their feet for the former three time World Heavyweight Champion!

(Kage is sporting a different look than we have come accustomed to. He has on white tights with red lighting esque designs running up the legs, his boots are also white with red accents. His normal black ‘Incomparable’ tee-shirt has been replaced with a white a tee that just reads ‘I Will Not Bow’ across the front in a blood red font. Stacy also dressed to the nines for the occasion has on a black tight full body leather suit, with her hair pulled back into a single pony. The two take a moment at the top of the ramp to take in the roaring crowd whom has waited over a month to see Chris Kage once again walk the entrance ramp in the EWA. The music hits it’s most saturated moment as the two make their way down the ramp and into the ring.)




(Kage and Stacy finally make their way into the ring and begin to pander to the Louisville crowd. Kage motions for a mic which is tossed his way from ringside.)

Chris Kage: Holy fucking shit Louisville, I don’t ever think I’ve ever been this excited to be in the home of Sean ‘Fucking’ Sanders.

(Cheap yet effective crowd pop at the mention of Kage’s former rival and friend.)

Chris Kage: (laughs) I thought that might be a good way to start this thing off. But in all seriousness, I have a lot to get off my chest tonight, so apologies if I spare the formalities for a bit. At the Asylum I showed the world that Chris Kage is not dead, that Chris Kage is not broken, that Chris Kage is not beaten, and for fuck’s sake that Chris Kage is not scared!

(Crowd erupts at Kage’s declaration.)

Chris Kage: I am right fucking here! And I am ready to fucking fight!

(Crowd erupts again, anticipating the violence that is more than likely to follow Kage’s strong words.)

Chris Kage: Sure, I took some time off. I used it to get my head wrapped around exactly what happened at Champions Summit. I was able to change a few things in my life and also commit to others. I was able to for the first time in a long time see the whole picture as it was laid out before me. And what I saw, was a fucking coward that I used to call my best friend. What I saw, was one brother stabbing another brother in the back because he was too fucking scared of his own goddamn shadow. What I saw, was Alexander Haven showing the world what kind of man truly is for the first time ever.

(Kage begins to pace back and forth in the middle of the ring.)

Chris Kage: Alex, you might have killed The Youth. You might have taken the greatest accomplishment of our careers and shit all over it. And you might have destroyed a life long friendship as well. But you did not kill the man, oh no, Alex. You see, The Youth might be dead, but what stands before you tonight..

Is the Resurrection.

But this time there will be no forgiving of sins, there will be no saviors. There will only violence and treachery, there will only be pain. I am coming for you, Alex, and no force on this Earth will stop me. Fuck, you ran away to London to get away from me once. Well this time around I’m going to drag your ass there and kick your teeth in for all London’s finest to enjoy. So be a man, Alex, drag your sorry ass out here, oh and make sure to bring along that dime store whore you call your wife too, because it’s time for both of you to answer the fucking bell.

VA: Well the joke’s on you, Chris Kage! Alexander Haven already has a match at Live From London against the Stranger, Indrid Calder!

MM: Indeed he does, Vincent Ashe, but if Haven’s half the man he claims to be, he’ll answer the challenge from his lifelong best friend and accept the match. He’s wrestled twice in one night many times before, as longtime fans of the Latino Powers will remember.

VA: I…are you insinuating that Haven was one of the Latino Powers? Because that’s a fantasy world I don’t want to live in, Malo–




(Chris Kage doesn’t have to wait long as the thunderous drumbeats of Avenged Sevenfold’s ‘Hail to the King’ begin to pulse through the KFC Yum! Center. Alyssa Marie Haven, wearing her usual form-fitting black dress walks out first, a smirk on her face. Martin Robertson follows, taking up a position on her right – he’s soon joined by Michael Draven, standing alongside him. Alexander Haven then steps out, already in his wrestling attire for tonight. Haven steps next to Alyssa, glaring toward the ring at his former best friend, a look of disdain written all over his face.)

Alexander Haven: Welcome back, Chris. Although I’m somewhat confused as to what exactly you hope to accomplish. After all, you don’t have my coattails to ride anymore. Let’s face the facts. For nearly twenty years you’ve made a living off of the name of Alexander Haven. I plucked you out of obscurity from some bingo hall in Western New York. You didn’t earn your way into the NYSWF, Chris. It was me who got you the tryout in front of Corey Collins. It was me that jumpstarted your career in the sport of professional wrestling. It was me that held your hand as The Youth dominated this business, first in New York all those years ago, and now in the EWA. And yeah, eventually you overcame everyone’s expectations and became a World Heavyweight Champion…but only because I allowed it, Chris.

(Haven paces as he talks, with Alyssa, Martin, and Draven staring on at the ring. Kage, amazingly, is chuckling, shaking his head as the owner of the EWA continues.)

Alexander Haven: I allowed it because I had other things to deal with at the time. Namely fighting this man, the man to my left, Michael Draven. A man that, for all his faults, has more fight, more ambition, and more aggression in his left pinky than you’ve had in your entire miserable fucking life. While you’ve been chasing your own personal glories for the past year, I’ve been busy grooming this man, Martin Robertson. Preparing him for the day that he takes over and carries this business to heights it’s never seen before. That was the goal, wasn’t it, Chris? To take over this business and mold it into something for the real youth to make names for themselves in? That was our mission statement last January when we stood together in that very ring. And I held true to that statement. I own this company, and I’ve paved the way for the youth of this business. But you, Chris…

(Haven stops pacing, shaking his head in disgust.)

MM: This is ridiculous! Chris Kage was one of the most fighting World Heavyweight Champions of the modern era of the EWA! I may have disagreed with his methods at the time, but to say he was chasing his own glory…the man was devoted to Alexander Haven! He was his best friend!

VA: Nonsense! Chris Kage is a glory hog who only cares about himself!

Alexander Haven: Chris, you weren’t content with reshaping this business, with dominating it, with running the EWA into the ground and rebuilding it into our own image. You became greedy. And when it was time for you to step aside and allow the true king of professional wrestling, Alexander Haven, to ascend to the throne, you begged me for a shot at Indrid Calder instead, based on a petty fucking grudge.

MM: That’s an outright lie! Kage tried to turn down the title shot! He even turned one down to get into the Final Solution! And who is Haven to talk about grudges after all the time he spent ruining Michael Draven’s life?

VA: Shut up, Malone! I’m trying to listen.

Alexander Haven: But I was able to forgive that, Chris. I was able to forgive all of it. I understand the allure that being the World Heavyweight Champion has on a man. I was content with allowing you your own glory…until I realized that you weren’t devoted to the cause anymore. And the reason for that…

….the reason is the bitch in the ring next to you.

(An audible gasp from the crowd, followed by a chorus of boos.)

MM: Now that’s just out of line!

VA: The truth hurts, Malone! This is all Stacy’s fault!

Alexander Haven: Stacy Vandervort, you are the reason I had to kill the Youth. You twisted and corrupted Chris Kage into this…this joke of a man that stands before me today. You sent what could’ve been the most dominant family of all time into an early grave. As tempted as I am to send Alyssa Marie down there to slap the taste out of your mouth…thankfully, I don’t need to. At Battlelines 25, you quit your position as Executive Assistant of the EWA…meaning you have no role here. As of this moment, I, Alexander Haven, owner and Chief Executive Officer of the EWA, hereby BAN you from any EWA event, permanently. Security, escort Ms. Vandervort from the ring, plea–

Chris Kage: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa…Whoa! Wait one fucking second there ass hole. Stacy isn’t going anywhere, because she isn’t just anyone, she is my wife, you motherfucker.


VA: Whoa! So…that video of her in Vegas…

MM: They must’ve eloped! Congratulations to Mr. & Mrs. Chris Kage!

VA: Stacy Vandervort-Kage. What a stupid freaking name, Malone! This just gets worse by the second.

MM: Weren’t you Kage’s biggest supporter last year at this time?

VA: I was led astray, Malone. Grace forgive me.

Chris Kage: And as you know, Alex, there is a very concrete clause in my contract, that you helped draw up by the way back when we first showed up here in the EWA. And that clause states very clearly that any and all of our family members are permitted anywhere and everywhere that any other contracted EWA talent is. So, Stacy, will be staying right where she is, and you might as well get used to seeing her, because where I go….she goes. For example, she will be standing ringside when I stick my foot up your ass in London, assclown.

Alexander Haven: How sweet, Chris. The ultimate bachelor finally settles down. You know what they say, though…when you lay down with dogs, you wake up with fleas.

VA: He called her a dog! Hahahaha! Woof, Stacy! Woof!

MM: You’re disgusting.

Alexander Haven: As for your challenge…I’m already booked for a match at London, Chris. I’m facing the man that you couldn’t get the job done against, Indrid Calder. You remember, right? The man that humiliated your wife for months? The champion that you couldn’t defeat? You proved to me, to Alyssa, to Martin and Michael, and to the world on that night at Champions Summit II that this business has passed you by, Chris. So at Live From London, I’m going to do what you couldn’t, and that’s wipe out The Stranger of HATE, once and for all.

(Haven turns, but stops in his tracks, turning around slowly.)

Alexander Haven: Although…I could make time for a second match.

(The crowd begins to buzz in anticipation of the dream match – Haven vs Kage.)

Alexander Haven: What do you think, Louisville? Should I give Chris Kage the beating he so desperately needs, and put him out of his misery, once and for all? Do you want to see Alexander Haven and Chris Kage for the very first time in the ring against each other?

(The crowd explodes, and a chant quickly forms…)




(Haven looks out at the crowd, and suddenly begins to laugh.)

Alexander Haven: As if I’d listen to a bunch of fucking backwater Kentucky rednecks like you.

(The cheers from the crowd quickly change to boos.)

Alexander Haven: You’re not stepping in the ring with me, Chris. But I’ll offer you a consolation prize. At Live From London, you’ll be stepping in the ring with the man who defeated the current EWA World Heavyweight Champion at the same event that you failed to capture that title at. In London, you’ll go one on one with MARTIN ROBERTSON!!

(The crowd pops for that announcement…but Martin looks at Haven, a clearly bewildered and confused look on his face. Martin leans in to ask Haven a question, but Haven shakes his head as if to say, “we’ll talk later”. Kage begins to pace back and forth as he contemplates the offer placed in front of him by the Three Kings’ leader.)

Chris Kage: Ok, ok, Alex, if you want to throw your little lap dog in front of you to protect yourself from the big bad bear, then so be it. But let me make sure something is very clear to you, when I’m done stomping a hole through your bitch boy, I’m going to tear your fucking heart out, Alex, and I’m going to feed it to that vaginal canyon slut you call your wife. And that…

…Is a FACT.

(The crowd pops loudly, and Alyssa Marie steps forward, snatching the microphone from her husband’s hands.)

Alyssa Marie: Listen, you needledicked son of a bitch —

(But just as quickly, Haven takes the microphone back.)

Alexander Haven: What my wife’s trying to say is…just because we’re not having a match at London doesn’t mean the three of us can’t teach you to respect the throne here tonight. Just remembered…you asked for this.

(As ‘3K’ begins to descend towards the ring a buzz begins to ripple through the crowd. As the camera pans around to locate the disturbance we begin to see a mix of men and women, maybe 20 in total, making their way through the crowd towards the ring. As they reach the rail they all begin hopping over and surround the ring area. The men and women, who appear to range in age from 20-30 years old, all wearing the same tee-shirt Kage has on, it’s white with the words ‘I Will Not Bow’ printed on the front blood red font. And from behind Kage and Stacy appears Tyler Morris and Josh Osbourne – still scarred from being burned last summer by HATE – who step in front of the couple and begin to stare down the now halted members of ‘3K’. Whom upon noticing the arrival of the intruders had stopped dead on the ramp. Kage noticing the quick change in the Kings’ aggression quickly lashes out.)

Chris Kage: What’s wrong boys? Where are those big brass balls you’re always talking about. You want to fight, I’m right fucking here dipshits. Let’s go!

(Haven begins to shake his head and laugh, as he and the rest of the Kings begin to make their way back up the ramp.)

Chris Kage: That’s right bitch, get the fuck outta here. You thought you had it all figured out, didn’t you? You thought by killing The Youth and The Academy that you killed my army. But what you seem to forget, Alex, is that an army is always loyal to its general. And I am the general, Alex, and this is my fucking army. And we will not bow to you, we will not bow to your cronies, we will not bow to anyone. We are here for one thing, and one thing only, and that is to destroy your Kingdom motherfucker, and if it takes us an eternity to tear you down brick by brick, then it will have all been worth every fucking second. You can’t duck me forever, this war is at your front door, Alex, and we ain’t fucking going anywhere. Batten down the hatches, bitch, life just got a whole lot harder around here!

(Kage drops the mic and throws his hands into the air as the crowd roars with approval. Haven, and the rest of ‘3K’ look on from the top of the ramp in pure disgust as the former members of the defunct Academy make there way into the ring to join Kage and the rest as they celebrate their triumphant return to the EWA.)

Nikki Caldwell vs Rachel Ellsworth

Nikki Rogers: The following contest is schedule for one fall!

MM: Our first match of the night starts off with two of EWA’s newest Warriors!

VA: Jesus, what is it with the influx of hot broads lately? My pants can’t take this much more. I love redheads!

NR: Introducing first, weighing in at 147 pounds and hailing from Los Angeles, California…NIKKI CALDWELL!!


Anybody tell you I’m a fighter?
Wanna start a fire, I’m the lighter.
Think you burn bright? I burn brighter.
Never tire!
Did they tell you I’m a fighter?


The guitar riff of Sumo Cyco’s “Fighter” winds up and erupts over the arena, met with a burst of multicolored lights. Nikki Caldwell charges onto the stage, pausing at the top of the ramp where she hops a couple times and rolls out her neck, wrists, and shoulders. She runs down the ring and three quarters of the way around it, sliding into the ring and stepping up on the bottom and center ropes, raising her fists and yelling. She jumps down, finding her corner and grounding herself before the start of the match.

VA: Okay, I like brunettes too.

MM: Can you not? She’s a competitor, just like any other woman in this company and she deserves respect, not you ogling her.

VA: I can look, I just can’t touch.




NR: Introducing her opponent, weighing in at 151 pounds and hailing from Cochranton, Pennsylvania…”The Atomic Redhead”… RACHEL ELLSWORTH!!

The overhead lights dim as spotlights in shades of orange and red swirl over the crowd, the monologue of Doctor Death-Defying laying itself velvet-smooth over the building of ambient noise that may or may not have been piped from some sort of high-tech future world. As it gathers momentum, the energy in the arena builds, cheers rising up to fill the air in anticipation of the woman that’s about to come out.




As ‘Na Na Na’ by My Chemical Romance properly starts, the Atomic Redhead all but zooms out from behind the curtain, energy levels turned all the way up to eleven as she scampers from one side of the stage to the other. It’s impossible to hear what she’s shouting at the crowd, but mercifully for the production guys in the back? She doesn’t linger on the stage for long, instead choosing to run down the ramp. She remembers to reach out and smack the hands of the fans, before she slides beneath the bottom rope and pops up to her feet. She’s making a couple laps of the ring, almost poinging like a ferret during a war dance before finally settling in her corner, the music fading as she does a rudimentary stretch or two.

VA: Hell yes, let’s get this match underway!

MM: And here’s referee Danny Smith calling for the bell!

Referee Danny Smith calls for the bell as the two opponents, in a show of respect, meet in the middle of the ring to exchange a quick handshake before locking up. Despite her inexperience, rookie Nikki Caldwell holds her own for a while before Rachel takes a chances, shifting her weight to pull Caldwell off balance and executes a perfect hip toss. The rookie lands hard, but recovers quickly enough and jumps back into the mix of it with Rachel. The two newest EWA Warriors circle, keeping each other on their toes…exchanging strikes and halfway executed submissions with the other powering out quickly.

It is easy to tell halfway through the match that Rachel was making her opponent flustered, but the rookie is no slouch with her training. The redhead can counter damn near everything, but Nikki keeps coming and trying to alter up her approach. Rachel throws out a few playful taunts, inviting Nikki to step up for another lock up before feinting to the side to bounce off the ropes…using the momentum to take down Nikki in a vicious bulldog.

The rookie hits the mat forcefully, trying to roll away to recover and get back on her feet making it to her knees before the Atomic Redhead sees an opening…and she takes it!

MM: Rachel Ellsworth has Nikki locked in a dragon sleeper!

VA: And she has it cinched in TIGHT!

The younger of the competitors is yanked backwards, the redhead’s arm around her neck holding her firmly down on her knees. Referee Danny Smith stands close by to keep an eye on Nikki, watching for the submission. Rachel yells out to the cheering crowd, tightening her grip and wrenching Nikki’s back.

MM: There is no escape for her!

VA: You aren’t kidding, Malone!

MM: Wait, what is Caldwell doing?!

Nikki tries to twist her body to try and slip out, but to no avail! The rookie lets out a cry out of her own, having no choice but to try and clasp her hands together and locking her arms around Rachel. Struggling with all her might, Nikki pushes herself up to one knee and kicks off that leg, throwing her weight behind it with a yell and manages to roll the both of them! Rachel has little time to react as she’s pushed down to the mat and held there for the count!

MM: She managed to reverse and roll Ellsworth!

VA: What the hell sort of rookie BS was that?

MM: Nikki is holding on with all her might as Danny Smith drops for the count!












VA: No seriously, what the hell was that?!

MM: The best kind of rookie luck!

Danny Smith calls for the bell, prompting Nikki to immediately let go of Rachel. The redhead lays there for a moment, astonished at what just happened and laughing to herself. The brunette pushes herself up to her feet before reaching a hand down to help the Atomic redhead up. Rachel gladly takes it and the two share one more handshake.

NR: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner by pinfall, Nikki Caldwell!

MM: A big debut with a victory out of nowhere for Nikki Caldwell!

VA: All of this shaking hands nonsense makes me sick, Malone. I’d rather see them make out.

MM: You…(sighs) Let’s go backstage!


(We cut backstage to the inside of the Fallout’s private locker room as the God Queen herself comes into focus, one leg up on a stool while she laces her black boots with blood-red laces. She finishes the job and stands up straight, throwing a few jabs into the air at a no-doubt imaginary Maggie McIntyre as she bounces from one foot to the other.)

Grace Goeren: How much time we got?

?????: Calm down. Still plenty of time before they send for you.

Grace Goeren: Ugh. You work for these corporate fuck-gobblers, can’t you just bump this shit up so I can go on next? Who the fuck wants to see two crippled has-beens like Grady and Ray shamble around the ring in their goddamn Depends when the fucking QUEEN is ready to take the throne?

?????: You just answered your own question. They booked you in the Main Event for a reason, to keep those butts planted until that final bell rings. Have a drink. Relax.

Grace Goeren: Fuck that, I’m ready. I’m lit and I’m ready. I’m like the swoosh, just ready to fuckin’ do it, you feel me?

?????: I feel you. But you need to relax or those veins in your skull will pop.

(The camera pans over to reveal EWA Public Relations Officer Shawna Jackson standing in a dark grey business suit next to Grace, her demeanor stern and laser focused. In recent weeks, the two women have entered into a mutually beneficial partnership with many of The Fallout’s extracurricular activities being hidden by Shawna’s PR expertise in exchange for a growing notoriety in the EWA offices. So far, so good. Grace cracks her own neck and loosens up her shoulders, throwing a few more punches into the wall with dull thuds.)

Shawna Jackson: So, if you manage to win the Combat Championship later…

Grace Goeren: When I win it.

Shawna Jackson: IF you win it…

Grace Goeren: Such a bitch…

Shawna Jackson: IF you win it we’ll need to make the rounds, hit all the popular podcasts and radio shows. Make a couple of public appearances. Really get those fat sacks of bloated cash out there excited to drop some green on your new merch. We’ve got several new items lined up regardless that I think you’re really going to like…

Grace Goeren: Yeah, that all sounds like waaaaaaaay too much fucking work. You handle that shit.

Shawna Jackson: Oh sure, I’ll just pretend I’m you on all of those podcasts so you can stay up all night drinking Fireball and snorting coke. How many f-bombs do I need to drop per sentence to make everyone believe in you anyways?

(Grace lets out a laugh and throws another punch into the wall.)

Grace Goeren: Jesus you’re cranky tonight. You better take a quick shower while I’m out there breaking Maggie’s jaw, rinse all of that crusty sand right out of you. You need to lighten up, I’ve got everything covered. I’ll handle business out there…you handle it in the office, yeah?

Shawna Jackson: What do you think I’m trying to do here? It isn’t exactly a walk in the park trying to keep all of you Fallout girls from…

(The sound of a door opening distracts both women as they turn towards the locker room door to see who has entered. Grace very subtly rolls her eyes and mutters something under her breath.)

Grace Goeren: Oh fuck me…

(Walking into the camera shot is fellow Fallout member and former Combat Champion Sahara, stepping directly next to Grace. The God Queen forces a smile and holds her arms out wide towards her most loyal disciple.)

Grace Goeren: There she is! I’m SO glad you were able to make it here tonight, sweetie. I was worried that since you weren’t booked…

Sahara: You asked me to be here tonight.

Grace Goeren: Did I?

(Grace glances over at Shawna with a raised eyebrow.)

Grace Goeren: Did I?

Shawna Jackson: We thought it would be best for “team unity” and “Fallout cohesiveness” and “strategic advantages”.

(Grace turns back to Sahara with a big smile.)

Grace Goeren: That absolutely sounds like something I’d be say, damn right! Happy to see you! So here sweetie…why don’t you sit down on this little stool for the rest of the night, we’ll get a TV in here and you can watch your God Queen take apart that Hot Topic employee piece by fucking piece.

Sahara: Grace, I…

Grace Goeren: No, no, no. No talking. You know how much I HATE when you do that. Just sit right here and enjoy yourself tonight. Maybe takes some notes too, you know? Not that I’m saying you need some pointers or anything but…well…you know…Maggie has kinda beaten the fuck out of you since like…forever. It’ll be good for you to see what a real champion can do to her…

Sahara: GRACE! Please!

(Sahara reaches out and grabs hold of Grace’s wrist to get her attention. The act causes Grace to stare back in wide-eyed shock, not believing that one of her babies would dare touch her like that. Sahara quickly releases her grip, seemingly realizing what she has done but still spills out her concerns to her Queen.)

Sahara: I don’t see why we need this Shawna woman around. I don’t get why you need her…this isn’t how things are supposed to be in The Fallout, I don’t…

Grace Goeren: …you don’t fucking understand, is that what you were going to say? Someone call TMZ cause Sahara doesn’t understand something. Hashtag “what’s trending”, hashtag “no fucking duh”. You don’t get ANYTHING, do you Lauren? Is that what my father’s bitch has been teaching you? To be disobedient to your God Queen? Is that what I’m going to have to deal with again?

Sahara: No, I just…

Grace Goeren: Stop. Talking. Now.

(Sahara backs down, albeit extremely reluctantly as she still stands her ground right in front of Grace. The God Queen takes an exhausted sigh and keeps her head down, not even giving Sahara the common courtesy of looking her in the eye.)

Grace Goeren: I am going to go out there tonight to take advantage of the opportunity that I fought so hard for and so rightfully deserve. I am going to do all the things you can’t do and show you just why we need people like Shawna around us. When I’m back on top, things will change rapidly here in the EWA. We need to start expanding, little Sahara…so fucking deal with it. This isn’t about you. It never was and it never will be. It’s not about Gaunt or Lucy or anyone else. It’s about ME and what I can do for the rest of you as long as you STOP FUCKING QUESTIONING ME AT EVERY FUCKING TURN!

(Another deep breath and Grace turns towards Shawna, motioning for the door.)

Grace Goeren: We’re out. Suddenly I can’t stand the air in this room…far too dense for my tastes.

(Before she turns to leave, Grace stops and walks back over to Sahara…finally looking her in the eye. She leans in and holds Sahara’s head against her own, whispering in Sahara’s ear.)

Grace Goeren: You’re running out of chances, Lauren. I am a God of compassion and mercy but I’m running low on both of them with you. You need to do something spectacular here tonight. Show the world just how dedicated you are to the woman who saved your life.

(Grace slowly backs away as Shawna opens the door and the two women exit without another word. The door slams shut, leaving Sahara alone in the dressing room. She looks down at the stool that Grace mockingly set up for her and after a few seconds of silence, she leans back and kicks the stool halfway across the room before we fade back to ringside.)

MM: Folks I think it’s clear that Grace Goeren’s delusional behavior is at an all time high here tonight…

VA: What in the world are you talking about?

MM: Did you hear any of that? Talking about all the hard work she put in to get that Combat Championship opportunity?

VA: Yeah? And?

MM: She didn’t lift a finger for that title shot tonight, all she did was force Sahara to hand it over to her! Grace has put in zero time and zero effort while Sahara did all of the work for her!

VA: Do you know how hard that was for our God Queen?! She had to drop some serious parenting lessons on one of her babies. Someone like Sahara can’t be trusted with a title shot like that, she needed to give that over to Grace before she got hurt! And stop trying to cause problems with the Fallout! Everyone knows that Duane Gates was the real problem…he’s gone now and things are perfect in Fallout land again! Praise Grace!

MM: Looks like Grace isn’t the only one who is delusional here tonight.

MM: Well Vince, we’re just about ready fo…

(Without warning, the lights in the arena go dark, bringing the capacity crowd in the arena silent.)

VA: Can somebody do something withOUT always taking the lights out first?

(As the crowd stands in anticipation of whatever is about to happen next, the light sound of an acoustic guitar can be heard playing throughout the arena. As the capacity crowd recognizes the music being played, the roar from the crowd nearly drowns out any of the music playing. If the music didn’t give it away for the fans, then the flickering red and orange lights muted by a growing fog over the entrance ramp have clued them in as well.)




NR: Ladies and gentlemen, introducing at this time, he is the NEW… EWA WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION…. GRADY… SMITH!

(“Dogs of War” by Blues Saraceno continue to play over the loudspeaker as, striding through the foggy entrance ramp is the champion. His upper torso barely extending above the fog, the black cowboy hat appearing as it’s almost floating. The black suit jacket enhances the broad shoulders of the champion, the gold World Heavyweight title resting over Grady’s right shoulder. He pauses for a moment on the edge of where the fog begins and ends on the ramp, looking out towards the capacity arena before continuing his slow, steady stride down towards the ring.)

MM: … and here comes the new World Heavyweight Champion, folks!

VA: Why couldn’t it be ‘and there goes the World Heavyweight Champion folks’?

MM: Grady Smith defeated five other superstars inside the Asylum in Mexico City…

VA: More like four, or even three, Malone. If it wasn’t for outside interference… so much interference. And Chris Kage!

MM: Which is exactly why it’s a breath of fresh air to see a man… no, a legend of this industry leading the company as its’ World Champion, Vince. Someone who is above all of the deceit and treachery that many of the past champions have brought in recent times.

VA: It’s only fresh air, Malone, because he has it bottled and shipped to him from somewhere probably like Colorado and put into the oxygen tank he needs to carry with him!

MM: What could you possibly have against someone like Grady Smith?

VA: Who, me? Nothing… nothing at all.

MM: Ok the…

VA: Except he’s old.

MM: So because he’s old, you don’t like him?

VA: … and he smells… like denture cream.

MM: Good lord.

VA: Should I continue?

MM: Please don’t.

(As the music fades out, Grady is standing in the middle of the ring, microphone in his right hand and the World Heavyweight title still hanging over his right shoulder, using his left hand every so often to adjust it back in place. He tilts the brim of his hat up just slightly so we can see his face. As he brings the microphone up to his face…)




MM: Listen to this capacity crowd, Vince! They like him!

VA: Good, they can keep him and clean up after him.

(Grady, doing his best to compose himself, brings the microphone back down to his side and is now leaning against the front ropes, attempting with all of his might to keep his emotions from pouring out. But the facial expressions tell how deeply touched Grady is with the fan’s chanting. Doing his best to try and bring some control back to the crowd, he steps back away from the ropes, changing microphone hands, and raising the World Heavyweight title over his head, showcasing it to everyone in the arena. The chants stop, but they’re simply replaced with a raucous ovation for the champion.)

(Grady places the belt back on his shoulder, about to speak into the microphone, but not before…)




(Grady, once again, is leaning against the front ropes. He looks into the hard camera, smiling and shrugging his shoulders, and we think we see him mouth the words “What do you want me to do?”. The smile on his face is one that looks permanent, as the crowd has ended the chant but starts cheering again.)

MM: This crowd is going nuts, Vince!

(Grady steps back once again to the center of the ring, and this time, before the crowd can get into a third chant.)

Grady Smith: Hello, I’m Grady Smith.

(The ovation continues on as Grady continues talking.)

Grady Smith: … and listen everyone, you can see by the smile on my face, I’m loving every last minute of this. And I could sit out here all night long and listen to this tremendous crowd here in Louisville, Kentucky come up with all of these crazy chants…

(The crowd, like a well trained dog, pop.)

Grady Smith: … but if you don’t let me say what I came out here to say, I’m going to have a pissed off Alyssa Marie Haven out here yelling at me, and nobody wants that!

(Once again, the crowd pops, but a small subsection of them near the back of the lower section try to get a “FUCK 3 K!” chant going. Some around them catch on, but fortunately, for the sake of the timing of the show, it doesn’t catch on as well as the other chants have.)

Grady Smith: Now, unlike a few other people that have had this belt in their possession, I didn’t come out here tonight to brag, or to boast, or to strut around like a proud peacock and rub the fact that I’m the World Heavyweight Champion into the faces of everyone else in the locker room.

Simply, I came out here, to reintroduce myself.

Because for most of you here in attendance tonight, the last time you saw one of these… (lifts up the World Heavyweight title) … around the waist of Grady Smith, you were probably getting ready for your first middle school dance! There was no EWA Network back then. Instant messaging was something people only did on a BlackBerry phone. The Facebook was only something a select few college kids had.

(A small bubbling of laughter begins to come from the crowd.)

Grady Smith: Yeah, I know. I’m old, right? I know this guy right here… (pointing to Vincent Ashe at ringside) … I know he thinks I’m old. I know there are plenty of people in the back… (Grady moves to the opposite side of the ring, pointing towards the entrance curtain) … they all think I’m old. Well, you know what? I am old.

I’m the old man that points at clouds. I’ve seen empires and dynasties and legacies all come and go. Hell, I shook hands with George Washington once! And it has been nearly fifteen years since the marquee of any wrestling promotion had the phrase ‘Grady Smith – World Heavyweight Champion’ across it. But for the eleventh time, there’s only one man that can claim that they are on top of the wrestling world, and you’re looking at him!

(Massive pop from the fans…)

VA: He’s still old…

Grady Smith: And if there’s one thing I don’t plan on doing this eleventh time… I don’t plan on taking this title reign for granted. See, being old has its positives and negatives. It’s great because I get the discounted breakfast at Denny’s every Sunday morning. Trust me, for a guy my size, that’s a really great perk! But there’s also the drawbacks, and there’s none bigger than the one I’m about to tell you…

I know, at some point, this belt will no longer be around my waist.

(The crowd, shocked at what they’re hearing, start to produce a scattering of boo’s in the arena)

Grady Smith: Don’t boo… don’t boo. It’s just a fact of life. When Prudence Collins comes on the EWA Network and says his little catch phrase of ‘Nothing lasts forever,’ he’s absolutely correct. Careers, title reigns… relationships… nothing lasts. There’s an inevitable end to all of them, and I get that. I get that.

(Slowly, Grady sets the World Heavyweight championship down on the mat neatly, before reaching up and taking off his black cowboy hat, holding it in his hand…)

Grady Smith: But don’t… and this goes to anyone listening in the back, which should be everyone… don’t think for one second, that Grady Smith is not going to do everything in his power to ensure that the inevitable end to my title reign… doesn’t happen for another fifteen years!

(The crowd, hanging onto every word Grady is saying, burst into an eruption of applause and cheers. Grady leans down and swaps his hat for his belt, picking up the title with his right hand)

Grady Smith: Because I’ll be damned if I’m going to give this up as easy as Sahara gives it up!

(The crowd bursts into laughter…)

Grady Smith: I meant giving her title shot to Grace, you sickos!

(More laughter from the crowd)

Grady Smith: I’m not here to duck or dodge anyone. I’m going to London in a few weeks, and I’m going to fight Ray Willmott in his home country. And I like Ray… I like Ray a lot.

But I’m Grady Smith, so I’m going to go to London, and I’m going to beat Ray Willmott.

And then I’m going to come back, and I’m going to face whomever they put in front of me, and I’m going to beat them, too.

I am not letting this World Heavyweight title leave my possession without a fight. I will not go quietly into that good night. So whether you’re Ray Willmott (cheer), Grace Goeren (boo), Laura Seton (cheer), Alexander Haven (boo), Chris Kage (biggest cheer)… or even “Perfection” Martin Robertson (biggest boo)

(You can hear it in Grady’s voice. The energy coming from his words is slowly starting to build. It’s growing from that solemn, wisdom-speaking old man to that energetic young kid…)

Grady Smith: This time period in the EWA… it’s not the reign of the Three Kings. It’s not the reign of The Fallout. It’s not the reign of HATE….

It’s the reign of one person… one man!



(At this point, I’m not sure if the crowd is louder than Grady, but they’re right on the same decibel level…)

Grady Smith: You want to take this (Grady taps the face of the belt) away from me? Step up! Take your shot! Because at the end of the day, this belt is staying right here! You want to take it away from me, Willmott? You, Haven? You, Robertson?

Give it your best, but when it’s all said and done, the belt stays with me. And you? You’ll become..

(As the crowd chants along…)







(Grady flips the microphone forward, raising his arms — World Heavyweight Title included — in the air as “Dogs of War” begins to play over the arena sound system once again.)

MM: Grady Smith, back on top of the wrestling world, ladies and gentlemen!

VA: Yeah, but how long can Old Man Yells at Clouds keep that title around his waist? The line of people that want to take the belt away from him is as long as prescription medicine list at CVS!

MM: He’ll get his first opportunity to prove himself at Live from London when Ray Willmott gets his one-on-one rematch! You’ve got to think that if he can pull off the victory there, in front of what is anticipated to be a very pro-Willmott crowd in Ray’s home country, it’ll take a Herculean effort to pry the title away from him!

VA: He said he hopes to be the champ for fifteen years. I guarantee you in fifteen minutes he forgets where he put the title and is asleep in his reclining chair back in his locker room!

Elizabeth Gaunt vs Jacob Mephisto



NR: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the EWA Network Championship!

The familiar sight of the mushroom cloud envelops the jumbotron as the pulsing drums of ‘White Angel’ begin to echo through the KFC Yum Center. The White Angel herself, the Left Hand of Grace, Elizabeth Gaunt, emerges from behind the curtain, her stoic gaze falling upon the jeering fans who clearly aren’t supporting the Fallout member tonight.

NR: Introducing first, the challenger! She is from Las Vegas, Nevada, and she is a member of The Fallout…The White Angel…ELIZABETH…GAUNT!!!

MM: Elizabeth Gaunt has her sights set on gold tonight as she steps into the ring with the current Network Champion, and you have to ask yourself tonight, will Dan Stein show his face? There’s been no sign of him thus far, and his match with Laura Seton that was previously scheduled for tonight has been canceled.

VA: Malone, nobody’s heard from The Lights since it was revealed that Gaunt was the person who attacked Molly months ago in Las Vegas, and that’s for good reason – he’s terrified of the White Angel! If Dan Stein shows up in London, Gaunt will rip his throat out and feed it to the birds.

As Gaunt enters the ring, the lights briefly click out. A moment goes by, and the arena is illuminated in green, as…


The Rolling Stones’ classic cues up through the arena as the Network Champion steps out onto the entrance ramp.

NR: And her opponent! From Nazareth, Pennsylvania, weighing 275 pounds…he is the EWA Network Champion…JACOB…MEPHISTO!!

MM: And Jacob Mephisto has a date with his destiny at Live From London in two weeks, as the Purveyor of HATE finally gets his hands on this man. It’ll be Jacob Mephisto against NOTHING in an EWA first…a Dog Collar match.

VA: Malone, NOTHING is just that. NOTHING. He’s finished. This man you see before you, Jacob Mephisto, he’s completely broken Prudence Collins. The man is probably off in the wilderness somewhere foraging for mushrooms and barking at the moon! He’s cuckoo and in London, Mephisto will finish the job.

But as Mephisto would walk down the aisle, Elizabeth Gaunt, hell-bent on causing destruction, would leave the ring, racing down the aisle toward Mephisto with a demented scream. Mephisto saw her coming, and the two brawled for a moment, Mephisto’s size quickly giving him advantage. Mephisto would work Gaunt over at various points around the ring, including one vicious point where he sent her sprawling shoulder-first into the steel steps. Mephisto then threw Gaunt back into the ring, immediately setting her up for his Godless kick, but Gaunt was able to duck the kick, just barely saving herself from a quick defeat.

From there, Gaunt took the fight to Mephisto with a variety of wild offensive manuevers, including a series of roundhouse punches and kicks, the ferocity of which had the crowd gasping in disbelief. Gaunt quickly wore the larger Mephisto down, and hit her Heartless superkick to the chest, but Mephisto was able to get a foot on the rope to save his championship. Gaunt would pull Mephisto to his feet, leaping in the air for the Queen of Dirt – but Mephisto would catch her in the air at that moment, driving her down to the mat with a devastating variation of a powerbomb….

MM: Mephisto’s looking to put away Elizabeth Gaunt here…

Suddenly, the lights in the arena cut completely out, and we hear that familiar refrain…

It seems strange that my life should end
in such a terrible place…

The crowd explodes at the HATE mantra, anticipating the appearance of NOTHING. After a moment, the lights return to normal…but NOTHING is nowhere to be found. Mephisto, angry, screams toward the entrance ramp, calling out his rival, but to no avail – there’s no sign of HATE at all. Mephisto turns back around toward Gaunt…


VA: That bastard NOTHING!

Gaunt makes the cover…












NR: Here is your winner, and…NEW…EWA Network Champion…ELIZABETH…GAUNT!!

MM: What a huge win for Elizabeth Gaunt, capturing her first singles championship of her career here tonight!

VA: There’s going to be hell to pay for this one, Malone!

Gaunt is handed the Network Championship, and she clutches it to her chest as though it were a newborn baby before diving out of the ring, walking back up the ramp with the belt cradled as Mephisto looks on from inside the ring, in disbelief.

MM: For months, Mephisto has gotten the upper hand on the Purveyor, but finally tonight, NOTHING is able to fire a shot of his own across the bow, and he did it without even making a physical appearance!

VA: Malone, he’d better hope he doesn’t come out here later. I promise you, Prudence hasn’t seen hell until he sees what Jacob Mephisto is going to unleash on him now!


(We fade backstage to a large ovation from the KFC Yum! Center crowd, as our camera view shows us the Banshee of the EWA, Maggie McIntyre. The HATE Pillar walks with a purpose, already adorned in her ring gear…the black leather halter top with the matching biker shorts, complete with those fishnet stockings tucked into her knee-high boots, and the EWA Combat Championship around her waist. Maggie stops in front of a door, taking a deep breath and cracking her shoulders. We zoom in on the nameplate of the door to reveal…)


(On cue, the crowd boos vociferously. Maggie takes another deep breath, her facial features showing a look of determination, and shoves the door open to reveal Haven sitting behind a desk. He smirks, standing up at his desk.)

Alexander Haven: Maggie! It’s great to see you. I missed you down in Mexico City. Stopped at that bar that we spent the evening together at last year. Such a memorable evening, wouldn’t you say?

(She takes a deep breath, making the smart decision to hold back a snarl. The things this man had done to her, helped be done to her…Maggie clenches her fists to avoid shaking with anger. Though, she cannot keep the snark in her voice at bay.)

Maggie McIntyre: The shit you drugged me with kinda kept me from remembering anything, but I didn’t come here to relive happy memories with you.

Alexander Haven: Oh, how quickly they forget. I believe it was actually your “Stranger” that drugged you, was it not? You certainly didn’t seem to object later on…you know, when you were in bed with Alyssa and I? (He chuckles) But I digress. If you’re not here for another round of fun, what exactly are you here for?

(Another deep breath. This man will do everything in his power to get a rise out of her, but Maggie is steadfast despite how much she wants to jump across his desk and throttle him. It is best to just come right out and say it. The sooner she speaks, the sooner she can get out of here.)

Maggie McIntyre: I want my match with Draven to be no-DQ at Live From London, just like it was with you at Battlelines 20. I think it’s a fair enough thing to ask…especially since I didn’t press charges against all three of you royal bastards for what you did to me.

(Haven chuckles, stepping around the desk and approaching Maggie, stopping a few feet away.)

Alexander Haven: Poor little Maggie, always living in the past. What is it with you and this need to lash out at Mikey? Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it you that shoved him off the ladder in Tokyo? You actually helped ensure that I become the owner of this company, you know. I suppose I should repay that debt…

…but no. I’m not going to sanction a no-disqualification match.

Maggie McIntyre: Why the fuck not?

Alexander Haven: Because you don’t get to come in here making demands, Maggie. You thi–

???: Let her talk, Alex.

(Maggie’s face twists into a snarl, the hatred in her eyes evident as she lunges forward. Alexander Haven quickly grabs her, holding her back, as Michael Draven steps into the frame, a stoic expression on his face.)

Michael Draven: It didn’t have to be this way, Margaret. We had a good thing…didn’t we? Until you shoved me off the ladder in Tokyo. You ruined it. YOU! So…

(He chuckles dryly.)

Michael Draven: So I paid you a receipt in the form of a few chairshots to the head. After all, what’s a few migraines, after what you did to me? But we could’ve been done after that, Maggie. We could’ve been finished. But instead…you decided to escalate things with the baseball bat. And after that…well…we all remember what happened with this, right?

(Draven motions downward, toward his belt. Maggie struggles to free herself from Haven’s grasp, but to no avail, as the owner has her arms pinned behind her back. The chords in her neck stand out as her eyes blaze in the direction of her former lover.)

Michael Draven: This…thing, between us, Margaret…it needs to be settled. We both know that, right? So here’s the deal. I’ll accept your stipulation on one condition. HATE, 3K, Sahara, everyone…all barred from ringside.

Alexander Haven: Michael, are you su–

(Draven never takes his eyes off of Maggie as he responds to Alex’s question, interrupting him in the process.)

Michael Draven: It’s fine, Alex. This is personal. It started with the two of us…and it needs to end with us. Do we have a deal, Margaret?

(The Banshee of HATE relaxes her slight frame, glaring up at the EWA CEO before he releases his hold on her. Should she try something, they are more than equipped to handle her. Maggie, visibly shaking with rage to be so close to the target of her ire, is quiet for just a moment before she looks up into the eyes of her former fiancee. He knows best of all that she hates being called Margaret.)

Maggie McIntyre: It’s a deal, Mikey. No HATE. No side-bitches. No royal assholes, especially this one (she motions to Haven). Just you and me putting an end to this bullshit once and for all. Shake on it.

(She holds out her hand, the smallest Pillar of HATE looking up at Michael Draven expectantly. Draven stares at her, clearly taken by surprise at the act of sportsmanship from the woman that used to share his bed. His eyes gaze up over her head to Alexander Haven, and then back down to Maggie…and he steps forward, shaking her hand.)

Michael Draven: Deal.

(Maggie smirks, pumping his hand once…and then lurches forward, spitting directly into Draven’s face! The crowd in the arena pops as Haven springs forward, grabbing Maggie and slamming her against the wall as she laugh mockingly at her former lover. Draven reaches up, wiping the spittle from his face, seething with anger, and stares at his former lover.)

Michael Draven: You’re going to regret that one in London, dear.

(Maggie hits the wall hard and keeps laughing, taking only a moment to lick her lips and push herself out of Haven’s grasp. She grins up at the both of them and goes to the door, stopping in the frame for a moment.)

Maggie McIntyre: I’m counting on it, asshole.

(Maggie steps into the hallway, taking her leave, as we linger on Draven’s face, intent with anger, for a moment, before fading back to ringside.)

Minxy Jones vs Natalie Burrows

NR: The following match is scheduled for one fall!

The arena descends into a darkness that lingers for a few seconds as the opening chords of ‘Monster’ by Paramore begin to play as the jumbotron springs to life. Grainy footage shows the Southern Belle fighting her way back up to her feet after being knocked down as the crowd cheers loudly for the fan-favorite that is about to make an appearance. As the blond regains her footing in that video footage, bruised and battered but still willing to fight, the chorus hits the sound system with a vengeance as Natalie Burrows makes her way out from behind the curtain with a bit of a bounce in her stride.

NR: Introducing first, weighing in at 160 pounds, hailing from Durham, North Carolina, Natalie Burrows!

MM: It should be interesting to see what these two have in store since they’ve never faced each other before!

VA: While both can fly, Natalie is more of a striker than a flyer and it’d be in her best interest to keep the flippy dippy Minxy Jones grounded throughout. Despite the fact Jones has slowed down on the higher flying antics as of late, as you can see by her entrance, she still has the ability to fly with the best of them.

MM: Interesting you’d actually offer up some legitimate thoughts, you feeling okay?

VA: Never been better now that Grace, hallowed be thy name, will be getting a shot at the World Title in the main event tonight against none other than Maggie McIntyre.

As Burrows makes her way to the ring, Mike Malone can be heard audibly sighing.

MM: You know it’s for the Combat title, I know you do…just as Grace does, which is a title shot she didn’t earn and doesn’t even deserve!

VA: Can’t we talk about the match at hand, Malone?

MM: You’re the one that brought it–no, nevermind…and yes, let’s focus on Jones versus Burrows!

As coral and white lights flash along the rampway, Natalie still slaps a few of the hands that reach out as she charges toward the ring. She slides into the ring on her stomach before she jumps to her feet and rushes toward the nearest turnbuckle. Looking out over the crowd, she raises her fists to evoke more cheers. She lingers for a few moments before hopping down, doing a couple stretches to prepare for the match at hand.

NR: And her opponent…

The Ramones’ classic ‘I Wanna Be Sedated’ pumps through the speakers as the one and only Minxy Jones steps through, a big smile on her face. She looks to the ring, pointing, before sprinting down the ramp! As she gets to the apron, she springs up, sailing over the top rope, and rolling through, running immediately to the corner, raising her hands into a heart shape! She hops down, going to the opposite corner, and doing the same! She backflips off the top turnbuckle, rolling her shoulders, and waiting for the match to begin.

NR: Weighing in at 157 pounds, from Wantagh New York, the one, the only, Minxy Jones!

MM: Wow, she’s so fluid! Such poise and balance. Natalie will have her work cut out for her tonight!

VA: I told you, it’d be in Natalie’s interest to keep her grounded, I know what I’m talking about, Malone.

MM: It’s interesting that she’s not accompanied by Hueso tonight, perhaps out of respect for Natalie Burrows?!

VA: It’s not all that interesting, Malone, but thanks.

In a match that showcased both competitors strengths, from Minxy Jones’s technical prowess to Natalie Burrows high impact striking ability, the affair was one of the more even keeled matches we’ve seen recently. David Tucker had no issues keeping things in order as the match started slowly with both competitors attempting to feel each other out, as their unfamiliarity with each other was apparent. Patience was on full display on both ends. While the crowd was quiet at the start, they got surprisingly involved as the match rolled on, and as Jones reverted to some of her flashier ways, they got even louder. Recognizing Burrow’s vicious striking ability would make it hard to continue bringing the match down to a technical level, Minxy Jones put on a bit of a show much to the crowds delight! Anyone that thought she couldn’t still fly high when it mattered now knows otherwise.

The match went through a couple of momentum swings before things really got interesting when Sahara, known enemy of Natalie Burrows, seemed to have enough. The crowd was HOT on Sahara’s appearance, and while her presence favored Minxy Jones, it was clear Minxy wasn’t in on anything with the Fallout member. Burrows did her best to overcome the blatant interference by the former Combat champion, but it proved too much to overcome. When David Tucker was momentarily stunned by an accidental shot from Minxy Jones, Sahara pounced at the opportunity dragging Natalie Burrows out of the ring and walloping the Southern Belle with a stiff chairshot. While Minxy was careful in her protest as to not lose by disqualification, the referee never saw it happen, so it never happened. Needless to say, Burrows was never quite the same in this match from having her brains scrambled. Sahara then dared Minxy to get involved on the outside, but the fact she brandished a weapon and didn’t have a match at stake favored the blonde. Minxy eventually went on to win the match and had a bit of an odd standoff with Sahara post match, but took her tainted victory over Burrows with a tinge of disappointment. Unpleasant words were exchanged with the Fallout member, and we aren’t quite sure what Minxy had to say in return to the blonde, but the two didn’t come to blows as Minxy eventually vacated the ring.


Post match, it was apparent the Fallout member was just getting started as a bit of an argument ensued between her and Burrows. While David Tucker did his best to keep the peace, Sahara turned up the heat when she grabbed a mic and made her spat with the Southern Belle a LOT more public.

Sahara: Really? You wanna discuss this with me right here in front of alllll these people, one on one? With me?! You sure you aren’t concussed?

Natalie nods, not managing any words in her post match condition as she catches her breath.

Sahara: Alright…okay, fine…how about I even make it fair and request that my Fallout sisters don’t come out in the case you somehow get the upper hand? This is between you and I you little bitch.

MM: Wow! A one on one confrontation! After just costing her the match against Minxy Jones, I’d love to hear what Natalie Burrows has to say!

VA: This isn’t the Sahara of old, Malone…she has a newfound confidence and she looks to be in better shape than I’ve ever seen.

MM: Oh, I almost forgot you’re back in Sahara’s corner after she gave away a title shot to the quote-unquote God Queen last week.

Natalie Burrows: I–

Sahara: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up. Nobody cares, Nat. You had your chance with me…you coulda been Fallout. Instead, all you are is this little goody-good that I’m gonna make life miserable for. Not only that, but I’m gonna expose you for the liar you are. Hey! Look at me you little virgin nothing. LOOK AT ME!

Taking a step toward the Southern Belle, the ever confident Sahara stands nose to nose with the slightly smaller woman.

Sahara: I’m personally gonna make sure you don’t win a single match so long as you wrestle here in the EWA. You fucked with the wrong girl.

Sahara stops, reading Burrow’s reaction.

Sahara: What? Aww…are we gonna cry?!

Lowering the mic, Sahara smiles in Burrow’s face and without warning, the Southern Belle SMASHES her head into the bridge of Sahara’s nose, sending the blonde down on her ass to a massive pop from the crowd! Dropping the mic with a resounding thud as she cups her hands to her face, Sahara tries to back away from the Southern Belle. Reaching down, Natalie ignores her own wounds that came at the hands of Sahara during the Minxy Jones match and yanks the blonde to her feet. While she has difficulty getting Sahara up, she finally sends her her into the ropes and nails her with a perfectly placed jumping roundhouse that sends Sahara horizontal as an arc of blood swings off of the blondes face as she smashes down onto the canvas!

MM: Ohhhhh, woah my God! Sahara’s hurt bad!

Rolling on her side, blood pours from between her fingers with her hand cupped over her face as the Southern Belle tees off with a few kicks to Sahara’s side, the crowd roars its approval for every blow that lands!

MM: She’s leaking like a sieve!

VA: Burrows with a sucker headbutt to the face…how underhanded can ya get?

MM: Natalie, you’d better get the hell outta there!

Storming the ring, The White Angel, Elizabeth Gaunt, slides in through the bottom rope as Burrows escapes through the other side of the ring, jumping over the ringside barricade into the crowd. Lucy Blaylock storms around the outside of the ring and yells something in the direction of Natalie Burrows. Another roar of approval echoes across the arena as the fans celebrate with Burrows, who has a fist raised in victory.

VA: Those cowards fans won’t let Lucy give chase!

MM: Those fans are doing exactly what they should do…standing up to a group of bullies! Wow, Sahara’s must have broken a blood vessel because wow, that’s a lot of blood!

(Back in the ring, blood is smeared all over the former Combat champions face as more continues to leak from her nose. Leaning up against the bottom turnbuckle, Sahara grabs the mic as she pushes herself up to a knee.)

Sahara: You stupid bi–

(Dropping the mic due to the sheer amount of blood that continues leaking from her face, Sahara pushes herself up into the corner and leans her head back against the turnbuckles.)

MM: Someone FINALLY did the impossible…they shut the mic queen up!

VA: That’s real funny, Malone. Real funny. She’s obvious sustained some form of massive injury, oh wow, even Furman’s coming out, something must seriously be wrong.

(Rushing into the ring with a couple of EWA officials, the Fallout girls rejoin Sahara in the ring and gather around her in the corner. Pushing through those gathered around her, Furman presses some sort of ice pack on the back of her neck and a towel across the bottom half of her face.)

MM: Wow, that’s a lot of blood, Ashe! Take a look at that headbutt in slow motion…it-it doesn’t look like she broke her nose or anything, but something ruptured in there for sure.

VA: It was a vicious hit just above the nose, but she broke something open in there.

MM: It’s about time Natalie got some comeuppance on Sahara, after weeks of beatdowns and political maneuvers designed to keep her down.

(Staggering up against the ropes, the entire front of Sahara’s shirt is covered in blood as even the towel Furman’s holding against her face turns a dark shade of pink as blood soaks into it.)

MM: Natalie only got a few additional shots in there as the Fallout girls stormed the ring, but she sure as Hell made them count!

(Helping Sahara through the ropes, Doctor Furman and a few EMT’s keep an icy compress on the back of her neck as they help her to the back.

The camera cuts backstage… but not to the gorilla position. Instead, Allison Haines can be seen hustling down one of the hallways of the arena, her microphone in hand. It’s clear she’s trying to head someone off at the pass–and it’s not long at all before she manages it.)

Allison Haines: Natalie! Natalie! Can I have a moment?

(The Southern Belle herself, having just stepped out into view from making her way through the crowd, is still huffing and puffing a little from her match… but she’s managing a polite smile.)

Natalie Burrows: Sure, why not?

Allison Haines: Thanks.

(The two fall into pace as they walk down the hallway together slowly, Allison not so much as batting an eyelash when Natalie stops long enough to snag a bottle of water off of one of the catering tables.)

Allison Haines: I know you can’t be happy about Sahara interfering in your match with Minxy Jones, ultimately costing you the victory–but I also think you got more than a little satisfaction in shutting the so-called ‘Mic Queen’ up at the end there. Are we going to be seeing more of that same take-no-prisoners action when you two face off in London?

(The Southern Belle nods after taking a swig of water.)

Natalie Burrows: If ‘take no prisoners’ means I’m going to beat the ever-loving daylights out of her… then yes, Miss Haines. You see, I’ve tried to be polite in dealing with Sahara–I really have. I’ve tried to be reasonable. I’ve tried to be respectful… but after everything she’s done to me? The time’s come for me to put her square on her ass so that she learns that when someone says no, you respect that.

(Allison nods.)

Allison Haines: She really has put you through a lot, hasn’t she?

Natalie Burrows: Yes. From her beating me down with Lucy Blaylock’s help to meddling with my paperwork after said match so I wouldn’t be booked to screwing Maggie and I over in Mexico City, I was already fed up with her nonsense before she saw fit to once again poke her nose in where it wasn’t welcome. What you just saw was me losing my patience with her childish, immature antics–and she’s going to get more of the same in London.

(Natalie takes another swig of water, Allison choosing to fill the silence with another question.)

Allison Haines: Any other comments on your upcoming bout?

(Putting the cap on her bottle, the Southern Belle’s expression goes vaguely thoughtful.)

Natalie Burrows: You know, I seem to remember Sahara saying something about how God wasn’t gonna come and save me from her and Lucy when they beat me down… but how her charlatan of a leader would. Isn’t it funny, how the one person she swore would be a savior was nowhere to be seen? I could’ve told her that would happen for one simple reason; God doesn’t exist to save us. To lead us, maybe–to guide us? Absolutely, if one’s willing to hear it. But to save us from the consequences of our actions?

(Natalie shakes her head.)

Natalie Burrows: No. I knew that there’d be consequences for turning her down, but I did it anyway because I knew I could handle them. What you just saw out there was me proving that Sahara wasn’t prepared to face the consequences of her actions yet again. She might like to think that she’s above facing the repercussions of her actions–

(Natalie suddenly falls silent, Haines stepping to one side as Doctor Furman and Sahara come into the shot, the doctor still assisting the former Combat Champion with her nose. The Southern Belle takes a small step closer, that mic still able to pick up what she’s saying.)

Natalie Burrows: But I’m nowhere near done showing her that karma catches everyone in the end.

(Sahara recoils when Natalie takes a step toward her, clearly still shaken by the wound she’s dealing with. Doctor Furman tries his best to move with her, and continues ushering her on down the hallway. Allison clears her throat after a couple seconds have passed.)

Allison Haines: And I, for one, can’t wait to see what happens when you two get into the ring at Live From London. Thank you for your time, Natalie.

(The Southern Belle nods.)

Natalie Burrows: You’re welcome.

(And with that, Natalie exits the shot–heading off to tend her own wounds after her match with Minxy Jones. Haines turns her attention to the camera’s lens more directly.)

Allison Haines: Vincent, Michael, back to you at ringside.

MM: Thanks, Allison. Wow, a statement made by Natalie Burrows tonight on Battlelines.

VA: I can tell you what, Malone, Sahara’s gonna be out on the prowl for revenge this week and leading up to London, Natalie Burrows better grow eyes in the back of her head, because there is no way Sahara’s gonna forget about what went down tonight.

MM: You can bet on that. Let’s take you backstage once more, where Terry Bull is standing by. Terry?

(We cut to the main lobby of the KFC Yum! Arena as intrepid backstage reporter Terry Bull is ready to bring you all the news that’s fit to print. He glances down at his watch and then mumbles something under his breath into his ear piece.)

Terry Bull: I don’t know what to tell you guys, he’s not here…

(A few seconds go by.)

Terry Bull: What do you want me to do, find Jada and ask her…she got here early…

(The sound of a backfiring car pulling up outside the arena suddenly gets Terry’s attention as he turns quickly to the glass doors that lead out to the front steps of the arena. Pulling up into the shot is a busted rental Cadillac with black smoke billowing out from the exhaust pipe and steam rising from underneath the hood.)

Terry Bull: …what the?

(The driver’s side door suddenly pops open and Azrael Goeren bounds out, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, a faded pair of sneakers and an unbuttoned white shirt. He runs up the stairs and gets halfway up before he swears loudly in German and backtracks to the busted-down car he drove to the arena. He pops open the trunk and grabs a black duffle bag before storming up the front steps and blowing through the glass doors as quickly as he can.)

Terry Bull: Azrael! They’ve been looking all over for you, your match is up next!

Azrael Goeren: I know! I know! I had some…wo zum Teufel habe ich diese Schlüssel gelegt? I had some car trouble…

(Terry Bull quickly trails after Azrael as the German speedily heads for the locker room area of the building. He glances down at his watch and swears again, knowing that he has extremely limited time to get his gear on.)

Terry Bull: What happened to that car out there?

(Azrael throws up his hands, shaking his head.)

Azrael Goeren: Your guess is as good as mine, Herr Bull. I told Jada and Josh to get here before me, that I’d take the rented Caddy to the arena instead of Jada’s car. I head out to the rental and the entire damn thing looks like someone took a sledgehammer to it.

Terry Bull: Someone vandalized your rental car?

Azrael Goeren: It would seem so…and after dealing with the police…who by the way seem to remember me from a certain public nudity misdemeanor at a local McDonalds some years back…I had to haul ass to get here on time. Is this an empty locker room? Good. Yes. Wunderbar.

(Azrael slams his shoulder into the door and sets his duffle bag down on the wooden bench, smiling back at Terry.)

Azrael Goeren: Now as much as I’d love to give you a show, I need to get ready for Herr Boden…so if you’ll excuse…me…

(The demented German trails off in mid-sentence as he unzips his duffle bag and peeks inside at its contents. Instead of his normal ring gear, Azrael slowly pulls out…)

Terry Bull: Are those…hotel towels?

(Staring down into the bag in disbelief, Azrael throws out towel after towel, his ring gear nowhere to be found.)

Azrael Goeren: Son of a bitch! What is this?! Someone’s been…they’ve been…

(Reaching down into the bottom of the bag, Azrael spots a single black piece of clothing buried underneath the white linens. He slowly removes it and holds it up, shaking his head as Terry Bull gets a look.)

Terry Bull: A Hierarchy t-shirt? I haven’t seen one of those in a long time…

(Azrael lets out a chuckle, almost like a “what else can go wrong” type of laugh.)

Azrael Goeren: If that mother fucker thinks he can play mind games with me, he’s got another thing coming. Looks like I’ll be wrestling in jeans tonight, Herr Bull…with one little extra thrown in.

(Removing his white button-down shirt, Azrael throws the old Hierarchy shirt up and over his head. He glances down at the old logo and gives his chest a good pound.)

Azrael Goeren: Screwing with a wrestler’s gear is amateur hour, but I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised knowing who’s behind all of this. At least he’s not attacking me from the crowd or jumping me in the locker room. Guess I’ll just have to go retro tonight and remind him who the REAL talent of that team was. See you out there, Herr Bull. Wish me luck.

(Slapping Bull on the shoulder, Azrael walks off-camera and presumably heads to the ring for his match up next. Terry glances back down at all of the towels littered in the empty locker room before we fade back to ringside.)

Sean Boden vs Azrael Goeren

NR: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!

MM: This one’s bound to be a bloodbath, Vince, even without a stipulation.

VA: These are two of the most violent men ever to hit the squared circle, Malone, they don’t need a stipulation to bring the pain.

The opening strains of the Who play through the KFC Yum! Arena, and a chorus of boos comes from the crowd as the lights die down. Boden’s silhouette stands, head down, at the entranceway.




The red spotlight hits him, head down, his trademark black suit and red tie as devilish as ever. He raises his head as the next line hits.




Boden starts the slow march to the ring, the smirk on his face ever-present.

NR: Introducing first, from Las Vegas, NV, weighing in at 230 lbs, representing Pariah, SEAN BODEN!

VA: He might be representing Pariah, Malone, but even they weren’t enough to seal the deal for Boden in the Asylum.

MM: Maybe not, Vince, but you have to believe it sent a message to NOTHING and, for that matter, Indrid Calder, that Pariah was on the same page, even after Boden’s loss of the Network title.

VA: But that message doesn’t include his opponent here tonight, the Megastar himself. Boden looks to send a different message against Azrael Goeren.

MM: That’s really going to depend on Goeren, Vince, and I don’t think he’s quite as agreeable to that message.

Boden steps over the second rope into the ring, sharing some words in Japanese with referee Kazuya Ito that don’t exactly make Ito too happy. Boden chuckles as he pulls off his tie, jacket and shirt, staring down the entranceway.

MM: What did he just say to Ito?

VA: Do I look like I speak Japanese, Malone?

MM: You do have that La Blue Girl DVD collection…

VA: THAT WAS BETWEEN US, MALONE. Besides, they’re dubbed.

The arena lights dim as the opening chords of “Sieben” by Subway to Sally blare over the arena’s loudspeakers. The fans jump to their feet amidst a chorus of cheers as the video screens crackles to life with a revolving pair of gold letters: A.G.

NR: And his opponent, from Eberswalde, Germany, weighing in at 215 lbs, the Megastar, AZRAEL GOEREN!

A massive red and gold pyro explosion goes off at the top of the ramp and rattles the arena as the curtain is pulled back and Azrael Goeren sort of rushes through the curtain, in a pair of old blue jeans and a faded Hierarchy T-shirt. He stops, looking around, as if a threat could come from anywhere at any time.

MM: Azrael Goeren is not in the best mindset right now, Vince.

VA: Someone has been attacking him, Malone, and they took his ring gear too! Who knows where they’re hiding right now? They could be waiting under the ring to strike!

MM: Jeez, Ashe, you’re going to give Goeren a complex.

VA: He’s right to be paranoid, Malone! We all know that this… someone is trying to end his career!

As he approaches the ring, red and gold glitter begins to fall from the rafter, but Azrael seems almost surprised to see it. He finally makes it to ringside but stops, looking around at the ringside crowd. He isn’t slapping hands, or surprised… he’s scanning for his attacker. Satisfied that he’s OK, he slides underneath the bottom rope and climbs to the second turnbuckle, glaring out at the cheering audience with a very slight smirk before jumping down, staring down a smirking Boden.

As Ito calls for the bell, the two men meet in the middle of the ring, chaining moves together, going from a collar-and-elbow to a rear waistlock on Goeren, who turns it into a hammerlock, but Boden rolls forward, kipping up, and bringing Goeren down with an armdrag. He wastes no time, coming off the ropes with a spinning wheel kick that connects with Goeren’s face, sending him into the ropes, and Boden immediately rolls into a clothesline that puts both of them on the outside, early in the match. As Ito starts the count, the pair get up, with Goeren the slower to his feet. Boden slams his head against the apron, stunning him, before whipping him into the steel steps! Goeren hits with a clang, knocking the top section off. Boden steps up to him, but Goeren elbows him in the gut, and slams his head onto the step! As Boden stumbles back, the Megastar drops him to the floor with a neckbreaker! Goeren drops a knee across Boden’s head, and turns to get into the ring– Boden grabs his leg! Goeren turns around, kicking him in the face– Boden catches it, pulling Goeren back to the floor with a schoolboy!

VA: What is he doing?! He can’t get a cover out here!

Boden doesn’t hold it, but grabs Goeren’s legs, launching him into the guardrail with a catapult! Goeren hits the steel, and Boden rolls under the top rope, then back to the outside, restarting the count!

Boden: C’mon, Megastar! You can do better than this!

He pulls Goeren up, whipping him to the ring post– reversed! Boden hits with a clang, stumbling back into a massive German suplex from Goeren! Boden is on the floor, and Goeren gets on top of him, pressing his shin across Boden’s throat! Ito yells from in the ring, and Goeren gets up, looking around the crowd!

MM: Azrael Goeren looking for his assailant again!

VA: This is not the match to lose your focus!

Sure enough, Boden catches him with a low blow, pulling the Hierarchy shirt over Goeren’s head, before tossing him into the ring apron! He yanks the shirt off of Goeren, tossing it into the ring, before sending Goeren in after it! Boden hops onto the apron, slinging himself over the top and dropping onto Goeren with a senton! He grabs the T-shirt, pulling Goeren to his feet, and wrapping it around his neck! Boden pulls Goeren, back to back, up into the air by the shirt, and Goeren is scrambling to breathe! Ito starts a five count, and Boden stops him at the 4! Ito snatches the shirt away, tossing it out of the ring!

Boden shouts something in Japanese at Ito, and Ito gets up in his face! Boden laughs him off– but Goeren is up as soon as he turns around! Boden swings, but Goeren ducks, pulling him into a Northern Lights suplex! Boden hits the mat hard, and Goeren floats over, grabbing his legs! Boden shakes his head, trying to fight it, but Goeren’s just too fast!

MM: The Officially Licensed Azrael Goeren Cloverleaf! Copyright 2017! And look at Goeren putting particular pressure on Boden’s back!

VA: Goeren might be afraid of his attacker, but he’s certainly not above taking advantage of his handiwork!

Boden taps furiously, and immediately scrabbles to the corner as Goeren breaks the hold, holding his back, eyes wide!

NR: Here is your winner, Azrael Goeren!

VA: Boden looks shocked! Goeren took advantage of Boden’s biggest weakness, and it worked out for him!

MM: Not just weakness, his biggest fear! He looks absolutely livid!

As Ito raises Goeren’s hand in the air, Boden snaps, charging him and clubbing him against the back of the head with a forearm! Ito tries to get in the way, but Boden throws him through the ropes to the outside! Goeren turns around, and Boden grabs him– diamond cutter! No! Goeren throws him aside, and as Boden gets to his knees– Blitzkrieg! But Boden ducks it just in time! Senior referee Danny Smith, along with Juan Cardillo and several members of security, rush the ring to separate the two!

The officials manage to corral Boden out of the ring, but he grabs the Hierarchy shirt on his way out, throwing it at Goeren!

Sean Boden: You’ll be x-terminated soon enough, Henrik!

Goeren screams something back in German, before looking around the audience while Boden backs up the entranceway!

MM: And a hell of a victory for the Megastar here tonight, making Boden tap in the middle of the ring!

VA: This is why Goeren has the reputation he does, Malone! He knew where to put the pressure to make his opponent tap!

MM: But will it be enough to evade his attacker?


MM: Folks, at this time, we want to take you to some prerecorded footage from the newest signee on the EWA roster…but I want to preface this by saying something. The EWA, and even moreso, myself personally…we do not condone some of the language used in this promotional video. Some of the language was so vile, that the EWA front offices took the unheard of action of censoring some of it.

VA: Folks, when we censor something, you know it’s bad.

MM: Nonetheless, we intend to air the footage, and allow our viewers to judge for yourselves. With that said, roll the tape.

(There are moments that the ability to smell an image on a TV or computer screen is a god send, and the image that the camera opens to is definitely one of those moments. This doesn’t stop the image of this scene from an affront of the other senses, though. The first thing someone would notice is Sworn In’s “Snake Eyes” playing OBSCENELY loud, or, at least, if they knew the song, or could make out the song from the insane amount of volume. What most people would notice is down tuned, distorted guitars and harsh, screaming vocals. But that isn’t even the worst part about the scene. The WORST part is the littering of half-naked bodies, passed out drunk or high out of their minds. There are plastic cups everywhere, many of which are knocked over, either revealing piss-yellow, low quality beer and malt liquor, or revealing brown liquid littered with cigarette butts and roaches. A closer examination begins to reveal pill bottles, mysterious white powder, and needles covering the scene. Everything else in the room seems to be tinged with yellow or brown, either from the smoke or vomit stains. It cannot be overstated how terrible the room has to smell, and if Bosch had seen this seen, he probably would have depicted this room in his famous painting “The Garden of Earthly Delights”.)


(A half-full 40 oz of Olde English comes flying across the room, smashing into the old, outdated boombox where the music is coming from. A couple of sparks fly and loud pops resonate through the room. One of the passed-out patrons, lying in a corner with a rubber hose wrapped around his arm, comes out of his dope induced coma for a moment, looks around in fear, and then passes right back out. The camera suddenly pans over to the source of the 40 oz. Standing across theroom from the boom box is a scummy individual. His ears are massive tires with big, black gauges. His arms, which are a rough sort of muscular, are covered in tattoos. The amount of ink makes it hard to tell what all the tattoos are, but there are a fair number of naked women, dicks, and various offensive imagery, such as broken or inverted crosses, pentagrams, shredded American flags, and possibly at least one swastika. He wears a Black Dahlia Murder tank top, an Infant Annihilator snap back hat, and Acacia Strain gym shorts. For those unaware of the bands, think loud, aggressive, and difficult to listen to. The man himself has a black hair creating a rough beard and mustache, more five o’clock shadow than full beard, with angry brown eyes. As far as cleanliness and health is concerned, the only thing separating this man from the rest of the rabble in this room is that he is fairly muscular, but in a very rough sort of way.)

???: I told you fucking **CENSORED** that we aren’t listening to that fake brutal shit! Next guy who puts on a third-rate deathcore band trying to sound fucking hard is getting my cock rammed right up his or her fucking ass!

(The man grins at what he’s done, even though everyone in the room seems to fucked up to be able to actually tell what has happened, or even that the music has stopped. The man turns towards to the camera and spits on the ground.)

???: Oh yeah, I asked you fuckers to come by. Got to get to the old fucking grind I guess. Can’t just relax with some of my good fucking friends here, jam some fucking tunes, have some fucking drinks.

(The man turns around and quickly shoves all of the 40 ozs and drug paraphernalia off of the table behind him. Glass shatters everywhere and, again, we see a few tweakers awaken from their dope coma for a moment. From off camera, a voice can be heard complaining.)

Stoner: Hey dude, you just smashed my bong, man. Not fucking cool, Ethan.

(The man, apparently named Ethan, turns around, again taking on the angry grin that seems to be his trademark facial expression.)

Ethan: The fuck did you just say, **CENSORED**?

(Ethan walks over to the other side of the room, the camera following him. The stoner realizes that complaining was probably not in his best interests, so he casts his eyes down like a cowardly dog.)

Stoner: It’s just…nothing man, nothing.

Ethan: No, what the fuck did you just say? You come into MY fucking house and complain about MY fucking behavior? Is that it, you cunty piece of shit!?

Stoner: Come on man, ple-

(Ethan quickly lashes out, slamming the man in the face with a right hand. He then grabs an almost empty bottle of Colt 45 and SMASHES it against the man’s head. The stoner goes down, whimpering and clutching his face, which has begun to bleed pretty badly.)

Ethan: You get the fuck out of my house before I fucking kill you, you understand bitch. You go bleed out-fucking- side!

(The stoner stumbles away as fast as possible, not wanting to see any more glass enter his face. Ethan snickers, walking back over to the counter he had cleared. He leaps up and sits down, looking directly into the camera.)

Ethan: Well…I guess I did break his fucking bong…

(Ethan laughs sadistically.)

Ethan: Anyway, where the fuck were we? So, I’m Ethan Leers. I don’t need to come over there and do some kind of stupid fucking fanfare or make a big fucking entrance. I just want to fucking talk for a second. I’ll be over there soon to fist fuck all of you assholes to death. For now, though, let’s just fucking talk.

EWA is a piece of shit. You call your program Combat fucking TV, but that moniker is such fucking bullshit. I mean, REAL fucking bullshit. Your Combat Champion is a fucking woman? A fucking WOMAN!? I mean, come on, how bullshit does a title have to be for a fucking WOMAN to hold the title?! I mean, that Maggie bitch weighs what, 100 pounds soaking fucking wet? Please, this is bullshit on a fucking stupid level that I can’t even fucking comprehend, and I can comprehend a shit load of advanced fucking shit.

(Ethan spits again, making his disdain for the Combat Champion and EWA as clearly as possible.)

Ethan Leers: So, here’s the thing, EWA. My plan is to skullfuck all of you to death. To…fucking…death. That’s fucking it. Just like when I took the No Limits Championship to its actual fucking Limits at that piece of shit LEGACY company, I’m going to do the same fucking thing here. I’m going to show you real ultraviolence. We’re all going to bleed very REAL fucking blood. And that is all I have to say. Fuck you and fuck off.

(Ethan grabs a random 40 oz off of the counter and takes a swig. He then spits it out in one big stream at the camera, and it gets all over the lens. The camera man, not wanting to get any dirtier or have his camera destroyed, quickly turns around and leaves the building as the camera fades out.)

MM: Now we head backstage to Allison Haines who is with Hank. Allison?

(We cut backstage to a waiting Allison Haines standing by a dressing room door with an ugly, handwritten “HANK” on it. She knocks gently on the door.)

Allison Haines: I’ve been instructed to find Hank to get his reply to the challenge issued by Tanya Black at the last Battlelines.

(With no answer forthcoming she knocks again, this time a little louder. Still no response. She purses her lips and turns back to the camera.)

Allison Haines: How does one excellent journalist track down a mons…

(Before she can complete her light hearted complaint the opening bars of “Red Right Hand” by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds play and we immediately cut to the arena where the lights have dimmed to blood red and the fans instinctively draw back from the guard rail as the hulking frame of the Australian mad man pushes through the curtain.)

MM: Well it looks like Allison can stop looking now.

VA: What the hell is he coming out here for?! This was scheduled to be a backstage interview! What’s that on his belt??

(Attached to Hank’s belt are a half dozen rabbit carcasses, skinned and gutted already. As he slowly makes his way towards the ring he hands off each carcass to scared and crying children, each one dropping the disgusting gift as soon as it is handed to them. Hank is wearing his usual filthy jeans, black tee and blue flannel shirt, topped off with his trusty but dusty Akubra. He’s covered in an extraordinary amount of dried blood that is obviously flaking off and falling like tiny snowflakes behind him.)

VA: He’s not even allowed to do this, Malone! Do something!

MM: I’d rather not, Vince.

VA: Coward.

(Hank steps through the ropes and removes a microphone from his pocket.)

Hank: G’day. I aint meant t’be out ‘ere.. somethin’ ‘bout improper conduct or somethin’.. But hey.. who’s gonna bloody stop me? TANYA?? Ehehehe nah.. sorry Allison but I don’t need no fancy interviewer promptin’ me with questions that don’t bloody matter. I only got one thing to say anyway.

(Hank looks out into the crowd and does a slow half turn. Everyone seems to be waiting for his response to being called out publicly for the very first time.)

Hank: That ugly goanna lookin’ bitch Tanya Black reckons she wants to call me out? Reckons she’s got somethin’ to offer me.. can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em or some bloody shit. Reckons that because I nearly killed her once, she might have a better chance at gettin’ the bloody better of me! Ehehehe. The only way that’ll ever fuckin’ ‘appen is if I’m asleep!

(Slight pop from the crowd.)

Hank: We can do it again, but. I aint got no issues destroyin’ anyone more than one time just ask Mephisto. But this time, this time I’ll make sure Tanya Black ain’t ever heard from ever a-fuckin’-gain. I might make a nice coat out of ‘er skin if I can find enough that ain’t all pock marked or diseased, filthy rat she is. Got pretty hair, but, that’s ‘bout all she’s got that’s worth anythin’. I’ll donate it so someone can make a cancer wig out of it.

(The crowd chuckle in unison. Hank grins and nods to the crowd.)

Hank: Liked that huh? Ehehehe. Anyone with half a brain’ll be able to figure out what Tanya actually wants outta this rematch. She wants to get on the good side of this monster. Just goes to show how thick that piece of pure crap is! I AINT GOT A BLOODY GOOD SIDE! Ya think I’m gonna be ya friend, Tanya? Why? ‘Cause I made nice with Maggie? Nah, Maggie’s special. Tanya, ya ain’t got what it takes to be that close to someone like me. Ya just gonna end up missin’.

(Hank reaches inside his left sleeve and removes his trusty fork friend and holds it up, an even more menacing look on his face.)

VA: Oh Lord! Not the damn fork again!

MM: Just be thankful he doesn’t intend to use it on you, Vince.

VA: Yeah I’d like to see him try!

MM: I can arrange that for you…

Hank: I’m bringin’ all of ‘em to play with ya Tanya. Little piggies like you make for a fun forkin’ time.

(Hank drops the mic in mid ring and holds up his fork again to a massive prop from the crowd before he makes his exit through the fans who give him plenty of space.)

MM: Folks, Hank has accepted the challenge of Tanya Black. At Live From London, on April 18, it’ll now be Hank in a rematch against Tanya Black.

VA: This challenge was foolish, Malone. Does Tanya not remember what Hank did to her at Champions Summit II? She’s walking into a massacre!

MM: Indeed, it’s looking li–

(Vixtrola’s “Gunboat” starts playing, prompting cheers throughout the arena.)

MM: With no match scheduled and her current status with Ray Willmott, we wondered if Laura Seton was even going to be in the building tonight.

VA: I guess we have our answer.

(She becomes visible, back turned to the camera at the top of the ramp as the song fully kicks in. She turns, lifting her head just prior to the lyrics kicking in, then heads for the ring.)

MM: It’s been a tough last few weeks for her. We all know the tension existing between her and Ray, but even as a wrestler it hasn’t been easy as she’s without a match for a second straight show.

VA: And that’s hard for a wrestler how?

MM: Come on, Vincent, you know her. She hates sitting, watching things happen, especially when she’s healthy and ready to go.

VA: And this means one extra week of keeping her health. What’s the problem?

(She slides into the ring, getting a mic as she makes it to her feet. She runs a hand through her hair, enjoying the ovation for herself. Her music fades out and just as she gets ready to speak…)


‘Ray’s Up….’


(A thunderous roar from the crowd as the former EWA World Heavyweight Champion appears at the top of the ramp with a smile on his face. ‘Moth into the Flame’ by Metallica revs up over the PA system as he slaps some hands and slides into the ring.

She embraces her husband-to-be. Ray calls for a mic and has one thrown to him within seconds.)

Ray Willmott: How are we all doing tonight?

(The crowd ROAR with appreciation. He feeds them all a smile.)

Ray Willmott: How are you doing, tonight?

(Ray winks at Laura which draws some wolf whistles from the crowd.)

Laura Seton: Just fine. Possibly better later on when we get home.

(She returns the wink, getting an excited reaction from everyone.)

Ray Willmott: It’s been a tough few weeks. Obviously The Asylum didn’t work out the way I wanted, and I’ve had to do a bit of soul searching. But after a match like that, all I can say is that I’m feeling fortunate that I’m able to stand in this ring with my health, in front of all of you, with the opportunity to go into my own backyard in three weeks time to win back the EWA World Heavyweight Championship!

(Another loud roar from the crowd.)

Ray Willmott: But there’s something else I want to address tonight. Someone else…

(Ray turns to face his partner.)

Ray Willmott: Laura, I know you and I have had our difficulties lately. I’m sorry for the part I’ve played in that. I’m sorry if you felt I’ve been cold, distant and uncaring.

Laura Seton: Ray, I …

Ray Willmott: But we need to thrash this out. We need to have a conversation about what’s next.

Laura Seton: This hasn’t been as much your fault as you seem to be saying it is.

Ray Willmott: I’m not the Champion anymore, I know that was difficult and confusing for you. And that no matter what happens with me, I know you’ll get your shot. I know that, someday, you’re going to be the EWA World Heavyweight Champion again.

(There’s a loud cheer for this.)

Ray Willmott: But right now, you have to understand that there’s a chance I can walk out of London a Two Time EWA World Heavyweight Champion. And you have to respect and appreciate that I am going to do everything – and I do mean EVERYTHING – I can to make sure that happens.

Laura Seton: And I do. This is YOUR moment to shine. It’ll be YOUR moment to be the leader again.

Ray Willmott: I just need to know that if I’m able to knock Grady Smith off his perch and strap that title around my waist once again, that you and I are going to be cool. That we can get on the same page.

Laura Seton: We had that rough patch. I… heh… I think those weeks taught me how what it means to keep “business” and “personal” lives separate. I can assure you this time will be much different.

Ray Willmott: Because if we can’t, then I ….

(Right as their moment really heats up, they’re interrupted by the chorus of Nirvana’s “In Bloom.”)


MM: What’s this??

Heeee’s the one…

(From the back, out steps a male, 6-foot tall, wearing glasses, a Milwaukee Brewers hat featuring the ball-and-glove logo, navy blue shirt, jeans and black Nikes. For those with excellent memories, a face from long ago within the circuit. For those with mediocre memories, he’s been seen on true EWA event programming within the past year.)

MM: Is that…?

VA: What is he doing here?

Who likes our pretty songs…

(He has a look around the arena, as if nostalgic for the surroundings and noise. A handful of fans have that excellent memory from when he performed and cheer loudly but otherwise it’s a general tone of excitement for the drama of what could happen next. He has a lift of his cap in awe of the experience at the top of the ramp before putting it back on and heading to the ring.)

And he likes to sing along…

MM: We’ve seen him backstage here in the past–most recently, relatively, at Path of the Warrior in Chicago–

(As he approaches, the shot goes to Laura who appears frustrated, hands on her hips, an expression of readying to whine and actually appears to do so with an extra tone of exasperation. You can barely hear her off-mic voice, but even lip-reading it’s easy to see her word.)

Laura Seton: Dube…!

MM: Folks, he hasn’t been in an arena in close to 16 years! A former NYSWF Lightweight Champion and TV Champion–

VA: And you know who he lost that TV Title to, right Malone?

MM: Indeed. Alexander Haven.

(He gets to the end of the ramp and heads for the steps, climbing them and taking another look of nostalgia as she stands on the apron before climbing into the ring.)

MM: And most importantly for this moment–he’s Laura’s ex.

(He calls for a mic himself. Ray politely tosses him his and turns for the new one for himself. The music dies off as Dube looks towards the engaged couple, smiling–mostly towards Laura before looking to the crowd again.)

Dube: Sure has been a long time.

(That handful of overly excited fans let out a “DUUUUUUBE!”)

Dube: Gosh you two look so great together.

(Laura snatches the mic from Ray, looking further upset.)

Laura Seton: What are you doing here!?

Dube: I always did love that fiery spirit of yours. Anyway–look, I’m not here for trouble. I just–

(Ray takes the mic back, knowing Laura may say something to ruin what appears to be a legit peaceful encounter.)

Dube: First off, man, it’s an honor to meet you. Never did see each other much in New York before I retired. Certainly never spoke.

(He gives a quick glance to Laura before focusing on Ray again. Ray gives him a respectful nod.)

Ray Willmott: Likewise.

(Ray licks his lips during a pause.)

Ray Willmott: With all due respect, this doesn’t concern you.

Dube: This? In a way, it kinda does.

(Willmott furrows his brow, looking Dube up and down. A loud ‘Y Ddraid Goch’ chant breaks out as the former champion sizes up Laura’s ex-lover.)

Ray Willmott: Alright, look. You’re a talented guy and if Haven and co managed to snag you to a contract then they’ve bagged themselves a sweet deal. But you haven’t answered my question and you’re starting to test my patience. So I’ll ask again.

(He gets in a bit closer to Dube.)

Ray Willmott: The fuck are you doing out here?

Dube: Let’s say this is a way of checking on her–

Laura Seton: And I want you to leave

Dube: And I’m going to, but first–

Laura Seton: Every time I encounter you, there’s an issue. I thought that call satisfied you.

Ray Willmott: Call?

Dube: Almost. Still one thing I wanted to do, which–

Ray Willmott: She has asked you to GO!

(Ray is nose to nose with Dube now and the crowd is electric!)

Dube: Let me finish a sentence. Ray, you’ve got a load of respect from me but Christ, dude, take a chill pill.

Ray Willmott: Fuck sakes …. Fine….just….say what you’ve got to say.

(Laura looks at Ray with some anger and a bit of concern, but he shrugs allows Dube the floor. Dube has a breath of frustration before taking a step back and pacing a small circle before turning again to the two.)

Dube: So, I know you two are coming closer and closer to tying the knot, and I’d love to congratulate you… but I don’t know if this is a great idea. Yet. Ray, just answer honestly. If I like what I hear? I stick around here and fulfill my new contract with no trouble. If not? Well… Then we have issues.

Ray Willmott: Excuse me?

(Willmott glares at Dube.)

Dube: Like everyone else here, I see promise with you two. I know Laura very well, but you Ray? Sometimes I don’t know if you can keep it together. Right now, for instance– and just hold it…

(Seeing Ray about to blow a gasket, he again steps back. Ray holds his temper, beginning to cool down within a few seconds.)

Dube: See, I want to know just how much you’ll care for her. Because she deserves the BEST. Not just now or tomorrow. Not only on your wedding day and honeymoon, but a year from now. Four years from now. The rest of your respected lives.

Ray Willmott: You’ve got some nerve talking to me like that after the way you’ve treated her.

Dube: When Laura and I spoke, she mentioned a memory to me. It was our freshman year. She had a basketball game against our school’s rival. She had a last-second shot that would have won the game, but? She missed. She came out of the locker room later distraught as could be. It pained me to see her like that. She shrugged away her own family. I came over and she fell right into my arms, crying. Can YOU do that, Ray? Be that comfort for her? Be the person she would rather be with than her own parents and siblings when she loses a big match?

Ray Willmott: It’s not a question of CAN or WOULD. As Laura will tell you, I’ve been there for her many, MANY times.

(The answer was firm and the eye contact never broke. Laura nods, satisfied by Ray’s answer.)

Dube: Do you promise–

(Ray sighs heavily as Dube gives a harder glare into his eyes. More emotion and care comes to his voice.)

Dube: Do you PROMISE to NEVER strike her outside the ring? Hitting her in a match is one thing, that’s your job–

Ray Willmott: Oh, now you want to tell me how to do my job? Really? When nobody’s seen you for years? I’ve been more than fucking patient here man. I ….

(Willmott composes himself, sucks in a deep breath, lets out a deep sigh, and starts again.)

Ray Willmott: Alright, I’ll bite. Yes, I love this woman. And I care about her too damn deeply to even THINK about doing something like that. Not just because the very idea of that repulses and disgusts me, but because I actually have some concern for my own safety.

You think I’d get away unscathed if I did lay a finger on her? You clearly don’t know Laura as well as you think you do…

(Dube continues staring Ray down, as if thinking that answer over. If it was a legit answer. Ray never moves an inch. A nod comes from Dube before he extends his free hand. Ray waits a moment, as if expecting some kind of action, but Dube just motions towards the hand. Ray extends his own, the two shaking.)

Dube: Congratulations, man. You’ve got a great one there and I wish you the best.

(He then pulls Ray face-to-face.)

Dube: But if you’re lying and you ever DO lay a hand on her at home? Anyone in her family coming after you should be the least of your problems.

(Willmott allows the moment to pass though you can tell he is seething with rage. He softly speaks into the microphone.)

Ray Willmott: And if you ever interfere in my business or come anywhere near her again, then the only person I’ll be putting my hands on…

(He speaks in a deep growl and leans in even closer.)

Ray Willmott: … is you!

(He drills the mic down into the mat so hard that it pops and crackles. He takes Laura by the hand and they both leave Dube in the ring on his lonesome as ‘Moth into the Flame’ by Metallica roars to live on the PA system. After a moment, Dube heads to the back as well, and we fade to another advertisement for EWA Live From London.)

Michael Draven & Alexander Haven vs Lunatikk Crippler & Tyler Morris

“Hail to the King” kicks on and the lights dim.

Three spotlights being to flicker back and forth on the stage, like a strobe. The center one and the one on the right are occupied.

As the song hits the chorus, the spotlights stoo flickering, and Michael Draven and Alexander Haven begin their descent to the ring.

NR: The following tag team contest is schedule for one fall! Introducing first, representing 3K, the team of Michael Draven and Alexander Haven!

MM: The men are leaving the women in the back tonight, in case this gets ugly.

VA: It’s about to. The deformed freak is coming out soon.

MM: And in three. Two. One…

VA: And his partner, Lunatikk Crippler!

MM: And there it is. Jerk.

Two of the Three Kings make it to the ring, smirking as their music shuts off.

MM: I don’t think these two think enough if their opponents to take this match seriously.

VA: Just wait until the bell rings. We’ll see how serious they are when it’s time to throw hands.

The music shuts off, followed by the unmistakable sound.


It seems strange that my life should end
in such a terrible place…


“America” continues on as the Masochist of HATE makes his way out, the lights flickering off his mask, making the fangs and teeth shimmer.

NR: And their opponents! First, from Las Vegas, Nevada! He is The Masochist of HATE…..Lunatikk Crippler!

VA: This fool tried to take on both Haven and Draven at the same time. Would have been ripped to shreds had Tyler Morris not stuck his nose into things.

MM: The Three Kings have made a lot of enemies all across this company since their formation. I doubt they care, but their actions formed the union in their way tonight.

Crippler waits at ringside as his music shuts off. “This Means War” kicks on, and Tyler Morris is headed straight down the ramp!

NR: And his partner, from Chicago, Illinois….Tyler…….Morris!

Morris wastes little time coming down the ramp.

VA: And here comes another lamb to slaughter!

MM: Morris is focused. He’s even willing to team with a man he’s at odds with to get at 3k

Crippler and Morris both slide into the ring and the fight is on! Morris targets Haven while Crippler singles out Draven, all four swinging fists furiously! The bell sounds to signal the start of the match, but it’s moot at this point.

Morris ends up sending Haven to the outside while Crippler ducks a clothesline from Draven, using Michael’s momentum to propel him over the top rope. Morris and Crippler look to each other, and in a moment of rare cooperation, wow the crowd with a pair of suicide dives through the ropes, taking out both members of 3K!

David Tucker finally gets control, with Haven and Crippler on the inside. Haven, angered, charges, and Crippler sidesteps. He reaches around Haven’s waist and takes him down with a snap German suplex! There’s no bridge, and Crippler brings Haven to his feet and tosses him into his corner.

Morris makes the tag and enters the fray, peppering the former leader of The Youth with rights and lefts. Tucker backs him off and out of the corner, allowing Lunatikk Crippler to scale the middle turnbuckle and begin pounding away at the forehead of Haven!

VA: Blatant cheating by Crippler and Morris!

MM: There’s a lot of bad blood brewing in this match! I don’t think either side is going to play it clean!

Morris and Crippler keep up the frequent tags, working surprisingly well as a team. They keep control of Haven in their side of the ring, seemingly working in tandem on weakening the neck and head.

Morris tags himself in after Crippler dropped Haven neck first across the top rope, much to Crippler’s surprise. He hesitates, watching Morris snare Haven in a side headlock, before David Tucker ushers him out of the ring.

VA: Looks like there’s trouble in paradise!

MM: These two aren’t friends, but until that blind tag, they’ve been working quite well with one another.

Haven somehow fights his way to his feet, Morris still applying his hold, and drives the point of his elbow into the gut of Tyler Morris. He breaks free, looking to tag Draven, but Morris snaps him down with a backcracker!

Draven has had enough, and tries to enter the ring, but David Tucker rushes over to stop him. Draven is arguing with the ref, with Morris daring him to come and get a piece, but Haven lunges upward, catching his former running buddy with a low blow!

Once Draven returns to the apron, Haven staggers over and tags him in. Morris is back up, reaching out to tag Crippler, but Draven takes out Tyler’s knee with a chop block!

MM: A cheap, but effective way to prevent the tag.

VA: Crippler and TyMo have been cheating all night. I was wondering when your bias was gonna kick in!

Draven whips Morris towards Haven, who puts his boot up, allowing Morris to run face first into it! Morris collapses in the corner. This opens the for 3K to take over, and indeed they do. Draven tags in Haven and the duo begin pounding away on Morris in the corner! Tucker tries to push Draven away, but all this does is allow Haven to use the tag rope to strangle TyMo!

Crippler tries to rush into things to break it up, bit is stopped by the referee before he can get into the action. Haven steps back out onto the apron, despite being the legal man, as Draven slaps his own hands together in the air and goes back to work on Morris.

Crippler is finally corralled into his corner, and Tucker turns to see Draven back in control. He signals for the tag, since he DID hear one and allows Draven to irish whip Morris into the ropes. Morris rebounds, catching a dropkick to his kneecap!

MM: Referee Tucker needs to keep his eyes on the ball here! There was no damn tag!

VA: He’s doing a tremendous job! He stopped 3K from their double team, and kept Crippler fron illegally interfering!

Draven and Haven, newfound BFF’s, work over Morris now, further damaging his knee, as well as punishing his neck and back. They attempt several covers, but TyMo shows his resilience by continuously kicking out!

Draven draws his thumb across his throat, signaling that he’s ready to end things.

He sets up for the Downfall but before he can hook Tyler’s arms, Morris lifts Michael Draven over his head with a huge back body drop! Both men are down, and begin crawling to their respective corners!

Draven dives and tags in Alexander Haven….


And the crowd actually roars as Morris tags in Lunatikk Crippler!

Haven charges straight into a Crippler clothesline! He pops back up and Crippler drops him again!

Draven reenters the ring and gets cut in half by a huge Blood Drive! The Masochist stands tall for a second before being caught from behind by Haven with a forearm blow! Haven quickly scoops up Crippler and sets him up for the Fall From Glory!

But TYLER MORRIS guns him down with a superkick! Crippler drops to the mat and now its Haven on the shoulders of Tyler Morris! He hefts Haven up for The Headshot!

BUT DRAVEN CLUTCHES AT THE LEG OF TYLER MORRIS!! Haven bounces harmlessly off the canvas as Morris kicks at Draven in frustration!

And Lunatikk Crippler crawls over and is attempting to Bitchify Michael Draven! Draven fights, as Morris is tripped to the ground. Draven isn’t allowing Lunatikk Crippler to clench his hands together to lock in the hold!

Alex Haven breaks up the struggle with a stiff boot to Crippler’s head! Crippler rolls off Draven, attempting to get to his feet to face Haven, but Haven scoops him up again!


Crippler slides behind Haven at the last second!



BUT NOT WITH HAVEN! Haven ducked at the last second and Morris absolutely DRILLED his own partner! Crippler’s eyes roll into the back of his head as Alexander Haven scoops him up one more time! Morris tries to intervene but is tackles through the ropes by Michael Draven!

Fall From Glory CONNECTS! David Tucker makes the count, as Haven hooks the leg!











The bell rings as Haven rolls out of the ring, all smiles.

NR: Here are your winners….Michael Draven and Alexander Haven!

MM: Dammit! One mistake and 3K steal this one!

VA: Steal? That didn’t look easy to me, but I’m pretty sure the right men won here, Malone.

Haven and Draven celebrate on their way to the back as Morris reenters the ring, looking down right crestfallen.

MM: It was one miscalculation from Tyler Morris that cost this team the match, and their revenge.

VA: Was it really a mistake though? He and Crippler have been at each other lately. Maybe Tyler was out for a different type of revenge tonight!

Crippler begins to sit up, shaking the daze out if his eyes as the music shuts off. Morris slowly makes his way over towards Crippler and extends his hand to help him up.

MM: Morris being the big man here. He’s owning up to his mistake here, offering the proverbial olive branch.

VA: The guilt of his failure is hanging heavy in his heart.

MM: Will you just STOP?

Crippler looks at Morris’ hand and says something inaudible. Morris answers back. We can’t tell exactly what is said, but it looks like he mouthed the word “Sorry” in there.

Crippler pushes himself to his feet, staggering a bit, refusing Morris’ attempt at aid. He immediately gets in TyMo’s face.

VA: Uh oh! Looks like we’re gonna have a lover’s quarrel!

MM: Please choke slightly on your next delicious burger from Five Guys.

Crippler is very upset in the ring, raising his voice at Morris, who is beginning to look agitated himself.

All of the sudden, Crippler hauls off and SLAPS Tyler Morris!

Morris then apologizes and offers a batch of homemade cookies.

Just kidding. He returns fire, slapping the taste out of Crippler’s mouth!

Both men are throwing fists at one another now, and the crowd is torn between wanting them to fight, and wanting them to stop!

MM: You hate to see this, folks. Crippler has definitely overreacted to an honest mistake from Tyler Morris!

VA; YOU hate to see this. I hate that I’m out of popcorn. Kick his ass, whoever!

EWA officials begin to storm the ring to break up the fight, but Crippler and Morris end uo turning their attention to THEM! The crowd roars as Crippler anand TyMo take out the small fleet of referees in order to begin pummeling each other again!

VA: Man, that’s gonna be a bunch of fines! Oh, who cares! Tear his head off, somebody!

Both men are trying to take each other’s heads off as two more figures emerge from the back to try and break things up.

Misty Giovanni and another woman, a brunette, have entered the ring, and have SOMEHOW managed to pull the men apart!

VA: I’ve always said that women have the power of several referees. Maybe the stripes make Rick Iley a tad weaker I dunno.

Misty has Tyler pushes into one corner, and the brunette has Crippler in another, both pleading with the men to stop fighting.

Crippler is shouting at the unnamed girl, pointing his finger accusingly at Tyler Morris, as Misty seemingly is making sure TyMo’s attention is on her. Crippler tries to advance, but the woman puts her hands on Crippler’s chest, absolutely begging him to stop.

VA; I’ll tell you what, Malone. That girl looks pretty familiar.

MM: All women look the same to you, and none of them will touch you.

VA: No, I’m serious. I feel like I’ve seen her before.

MM: Whoever she is, she’s apparently close enough with Crippler to get him to back off. He’s leaving!

Sure enough, the brunette has convinced Crippler to leave the ring, even if hasn’t fully taken his eyes off Morris.

MM: These women have diffused a bomb tonight. But who knows for how long with Live From London right around the corner?


(We cut backstage to a view of Michael Draven’s private locker room. The 3K member is in the process of untaping his wrists, stopping periodically to towel sweat away from his brow after his tag team match with Alexander Haven earlier in the night. Suddenly, the lights begin to flicker, causing Draven to snap to attention. A moment later, darkness surrounds him…but only for a moment, as the lights flicker back to life, revealing that Draven is no longer alone.

There’s a Stranger in his presence.

Indrid Calder wears a gunmetal gray suit, his merciless eyes seeming to pierce right into the fibers of Draven’s soul. The Stranger approaches slowly, taking his time, the fingers of his right hand reaching out to casually “walk” over the locker doors as he approaches his enemy.

Each hollow tap is punctuated by Calder stepping closer and closer to Draven until they’re almost nose to nose.)

Indrid Calder: All hail King Draven. Behold his miniscule crown…his miniature scepter…and his bloated, rot-gut ego. Such a lavish kingdom, Michael. You don’t mind me dropping by for an informal visit, do you?

(Indrid’s teeth shine as he smiles.)

Indrid Calder: My visit is a lesson for one of three craven Kings. The lesson is this, Michael….I can infiltrate your little kingdom whenever I choose. I can slip past the archers, slit the throats of the guards, and stand over your sleeping form without making a peep. I can light the biggest fire you’ve experienced in your life, and burn you alive while you sleep, motherfucker.

(There’s actual VENOM in Calder’s voice when he says this, swirling, unfamiliar emotion bursting up into his chest with each word.)

Indrid Calder: I can be anywhere, Michael. I can be anyone. I can wear the flesh and faces of those closest to you…and pull out the insides of 3K before the group draws another arrogant breath. It’s a feral Banshee that waits for you in London, but once she’s torn you asunder and you’re crawling away from her as a bleeding, broken, RUINED sack of spoiled meat…

(Calder actually lashes out and grips Michael by the beard with one hand, drawing his face closer to his own, holding Draven’s lower mandible in a death grip.)

Indrid Calder: That will not be the end. I will be your END, Michael. You’ll crawl and skitter across the dirt, and your bleeding eyeballs will fall upon a pair of gray boots. You’ll look up…and I’ll grin at you. I’ll grin because Maggie is just the first chapter of HATE for you to experience…and I am waiting for you in the epilogue.

(The room is silent for a moment, before Draven reaches up, shoving the Stranger’s arm away from his jaw. The two men, drawn together through this conflict stemming from their connection to the Banshee, stand face to face, regarding one another, before Draven’s face slowly contorts into a smile.)

Michael Draven: Is that…is that actual emotion, Stranger? Are you angry with me? And to think…everyone around here regards you as the boogeyman. The shadow that haunts the warriors of the EWA, void of all feeling. The nightmares you’ve inflicted on the denizens of our kingdom are vast, Indrid…and yet, as you stand before me now?

(Draven leans in slowly, whispering into Calder’s ear.)

Michael Draven: All I see is a man.

(He leans back, resting his upper back against the lockers behind him, crossing his arms over his chest as Calder looks on.)

Michael Draven: Truthfully, after seeing this, I’m not so sure what Margaret was afraid of. All those times she woke next to me, screaming in terror at yet another perverse invasion of her dreams by the mythical creature from Nothing, Arizona….they all seem so very silly now. But I’m glad you feel the anger, Indrid. Perhaps now you know what I felt when you took the only thing good in my life away from me.

(The king lurches forward, forehead nearly touching Calder’s, as his expression quickly flashes from a mocking smile to one of unbridled anger.)

Michael Draven: I’m glad you paid me a visit tonight, Stranger. I’m happy that we’re finally face to face, so I can tell you, man to man – because, after all, that’s all you are…just an ordinary, plain, man. After I finish the job I started with this…

(Draven, never taking his eye off of Calder, reaches down, grabbing his belt from the bench below him. The same belt he used to whip The Stranger’s Banshee into a screaming, crying mess at Battlelines 26.)

Michael Draven: …I’ll be coming for you, Stranger. Oh, the sweet music this belt here will make as it smacks across your flesh. I’ve been waiting a long time, Indrid. Two hundred and twenty four long days I’ve waited for this moment, and sadly, I must wait just a bit longer…but after I finish off Maggie?

(Again, he leans forward to whisper into Calder’s ear.)

Michael Draven: You’re mine, Stranger.

(Chuckling, Draven grabs his bag, slowly backing out of the locker room, never taking his eye off of Calder.

The locker room is blanketed in silence after Draven’s departure. Calder remains wholly motionless, his placid eyes drilling into the empty space that Michael inhabited only moments prior. Something is occurring in the physiology of The Stranger. It is subtle, slow, and almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

His fists draw inward, the knuckles cracking. A small blue vein begins to pulse in the side of his neck. He begins to grind his teeth without even realizing that he’s doing so.

A schism opens in his vacant soul, and what pours out is acidic and horrible, a stockpile of personal hatred that has been building and building for months now.

Calder pivots on his heels and locks his hand around a locker door, RIPPING it from the hinges, and then he promptly crushes his fist into another locker door, bending the metal to his will. Both hands piston outward simultaneously, and he rips another two locker doors free and throws them to either side of him before driving his boot into a bench with such stomping force that the wood actually cracks and then sags downward.

Once this Hyde-like rage finally dissipates, The Stranger is left in a ruined womb of twisted metal, the sour aftertaste of his hatred still lingering in the back of his throat. He very slowly adjusts his suit and rolls his neck on his shoulders, a little hiss of air escaping past his lips.

Indrid Calder calms himself with the thought of a serene waterfall in the middle of the wilderness.

A waterfall built from Michael’s split bones, his gaping innards, and a gout of blood that pours forth eternally from a throat torn to tatters with nothing but Indrid’s own teeth. The Stranger imagines that he is bathing beneath this red torrent, a baptism in King’s blood.

The visualization does the trick.)

Tanya Black vs Chris Kage

MM: Next up, Vince, we get to see “The Incomparable” Chris Kage, back in an EWA ring!

VA: Christ, what’s with all the crying over Kage? He was gone for three months. He should have been gone for three years!

MM: After what he went through, with his former best friend stabbing him in the back…

VA: Wah, wah, wah… I was just stabbed in the back three days ago, I still showed up to work!

MM: Who stabbed you in the back?

VA: Mrs. Buttersworth. Lying bitch. Nobody said she was pure sugar. I blame her for the February fifteen.

MM: Oh good lord.

NR: Ladies and gentlemen, this next match is scheduled for one fall!

You hear the voice of Tanya Black break out over the speakers proclaiming “The Fight Begins Now” before we hear the opening of “Lights Go Out” by Fozzy. After a moment out emerges Tanya Black causing a big pop from the audience. Standing at the entrance Tanya bows her head and prays for a moment. Lifting her head Tanya smiles and begins blowing kisses to the fans before she starts to head to the ring.

NR: Coming to the ring from Albuquerque, New Mexico by way of Boston, Massachusetts! Weighing in at one hundred fifty pounds and standing five feet, six inches tall, she is TANYA BBLLAACCKK!!!

MM: Tanya Black has her date for Live from London set, as she’s set to take on Hank in a one-on-one match!

VA: Date with a mortuary is more like it! Why would anyone be stupid enough to call out Hank?!?

MM: I think she’s looking for a bit of revenge, having lost to him a few months ago! She’s a prideful competitor here, and she needs to get that win.

VA: She needs to get her head checked, is what she needs!

MM: You’re just jealous that she’s got more courage in her pinky than you have in your body altogether.

VA: Barely.

Waving to the fans and shaking a few hands she takes her time getting to the ring, all smiles and upon entering the ring does a dance for the fans before mounting each turnbuckle in turn and bowing in respect to the audience as the song winds down. Once the song ends Tanya Black waves to the commentary table before she faces the center of the ring and stretches out her neck and shoulders, letting out a primal scream, her eyes going serious as the time to compete begins. A few moments later, the lights in the arena go out once again.

Suddenly, the darkness is filled with red and white strobe lights that flash throughout the arena. As the lights pick up their pace, we begin to hear a familiar guitar refrain play over the arena speaker before a huge flash occurs on the stage…




The strobe lights concentrate on the entrance ramp as “I Will Not Bow” by Breaking Benjamin begins to play…

NR: … and her opponent! He hails from Buffalo, New York. Accompanied by his wife, Stacy Vandervort, he is the former three-time EWA World Heavyweight Champion… Here is… “THE INCOMPARABLE”… CHRIS… KAGE!

Stepping through the entrance curtain with an energy rarely seen during any of his prior entrances, Chris Kage emerges, still wearing the mostly-white ring gear he had on earlier, including the white ‘I Will Not Bow’ t-shirt. Holding his hand as he walks to the center of the ramp is his wife, Stacy, in the full body black leather suit that shows off every single curve of her body. The couple stand on the ramp for a minute looking out at the crowd — possibly with some shock that the arena fans are legitimately cheering for them now — before beginning to make their way to the ring.

MM: Did you ever think you’d see the day where almost everyone here is a Chris Kage fan, Vince?

VA: It makes me sick, Malone.

MM: Says the guy that tried to ride the coattails of Kage for the past year.

VA: Yeah, because he didn’t listen to these stupid idiots in the crowd. He listened to Alexander Haven, who gave him everything he’s ever accomplished in this business! Without Alexander Haven, Chris Kage doesn’t have a career! He’d be just another Joe Lemon…

MM: … who has a victory over Martin Robertson…

VA: We’re not talking about the Three Kings here. We’re talking about how Chris Kage is a jealous old man that Alexander Haven has finally seen how little he means!

MM: … who will face Martin Robertson at Live from London.

VA: Look, Chris Kage has the same chances of coming back over the Atlantic after Live from London that the Concourde has of making another flight across the Atlantic in one piece. He is going to be dismantled by the Three Kings, put back where he belongs!

MM: But I thought we weren’t talking about the Three Kings…


Kage, now in the ring, helps escort his wife out of the ring before taking off his white t-shirt and throwing it out into the crowd. He turns around and starts to limber up for the match.




Chris and Tanya circle each other for a moment before locking up in the ring. Chris, with the obvious size advantage, is able to back Tanya in the corner before the ref calls for a clean break, and actually receives one. Back to the center of the ring move the two combatants, and another collar and elbow tieup this time results in Chris putting Tanya in a side headlock. He quickly elbows Kage in the midsection, loosening his grip enough to be able to reverse it and place Chris in a side headlock. Chris backs Tanya up to the ropes before pushing her across the ring. Tanya rebounds off the ropes, but eats a Kage shoulder tackle, putting her on her backside.

Tanya looks up at Chris, nodding her head as she spins around to stand back up. The two meet in the center of the ring again, but this time, Tanya kicks Chris in the midsection, catching him off guard and doubling him over. She looks at the former champ for a second before grabbing his head and snapping him down to the mat with a snap suplex. She looks down at Chris before landing a quick elbow strike to the sternum and going for a cover, but only getting a one count. Tanya is back to her feet quickly, but she’s met with a blow to the midsection by Kage from his knee. Kage pops up to his feet, whipping Tanya across the ring and sending her to the mat with a clothesline.

Kage picks Tanya up, landing a forearm to the side of her head, using the blow to push her back into the corner. In rapid succession, Kage trades back and forth between forearm shots and knife edge chops, keeping Tanya off balance. He whips Tanya across the ring, where she slams back first into the corner turnbuckle. As she starts to straighten up, she’s immediately met with a clothesline from Kage, pulling her out of the corner and to the mat. Kage make a cover, but Tanya kicks out at 2.

MM: Not too many signs of ring rust from the former champion, Vince.

VA: If you hit rusty things enough, eventually they fall apart, Malone. That’s what’s happening to Kage after going soft and getting married.

MM: Getting married isn’t a sign of things falling apart.

VA: Tell that to my three ex wives.

Kage picks up Tanya from the mat, dumping her to the outside through the middle ropes near the feet of his wife. Kage climbs out and stands on the ring apron, waiting for Tanya to stand up. As Tanya gets to her feet, Kage dives forward towards Tanya…

MM: Good lord! Kage just jumped towards Tanya, but out of nowhere, she just landed a version of the Divine Kiss on the floor, smashing Kage’s face into the mat on the outside!

VA: Think Stacy’s going to want to stay married to him with a busted up face?

MM: I think there love is stronger than a broken nose.

VA: I don’t know. I thought my love for my second ex was strong until she broke my nose.

MM: Do you have anything good to say about any woman in your life?

VA: I would if I didn’t get rid of them after the hour I paid for is done.

Tanya, shaking off the few remaining cobwebs, stands up and tries to lift Kage back into the ring. The effort is proving a little more daunting than she probably figured, but she manages to lift him onto the apron and push him into the ring. She climbs into the ring and positions Kage near the corner, keeping him down with a standing leg drop. Next, she climbs up to the first turnbuckle, dropping another leg across Kage.

MM: Tanya looks to be going for her Heavenly Descents, Vince!

VA: There is nothing heavenly about this match.

MM: Black lands the legdrop from the second turnbuckle, and now she’s starting to climb up to the top!

VA: She’s looking out at the crowd, Malone. She might be taking too much time.

Well, Vince’s prediction was correct, because as she finally made it up to the top rope, Kage moved out of the way at the very last second, rolling in towards the turnbuckle, causing Tanya to land on her back side. Kage pulls himself up in the corner, looking at Tanya who’s just starting to try and get to her feet herself, still holding her back side. Kage charges and takes her down with a clothesline. Tanya pops right back up, but is put down again with a second clothesline. Tanya manages to duck the third clothesline, but before she can turn around, Kage has his arms wrapped around her waist, and he throws her into the corner with a nasty belly to back suplex!

MM: Did you see the way Tanya’s head hit that turnbuckle? She might be out!

Kage heads over to the corner, pulling Tanya up by her head before tossing her back towards the center of the ring. He looks down at his wife Stacy, who is applauding, before heading towards Tanya, but she catches him with a drop toe hold, sending him to the mat. Kage holds his face for a second before trying to get up. But before he can…

MM: TANYA! EPIPHANY FROM THE EAST! That shining wizard, smacking Kage in the back of the head! She covers…











MM: Oh, I think he just got out of that one, Vince!

VA: Well, I don’t think Kage expected Tanya to have any viable offense here tonight. Remember, she hasn’t fought since Champions Summit as well, Malone.

Both Tanya and Chris struggle to get back to their feet, but Kage is obviously the one more hurt at the moment. Tanya gets up and lands a forearm to the face of Kage, but he fires one right back at Tanya! She staggers back a step, but gives Kage a taste of his own medicine, and lands another forearm. Kage goes for a forearm of his own, but Tanya ducks, swinging Kage around, and attempting a back suplex. But Kage floats over behind Tanya…

MM: CRACKDOWN! Kage, out of nowhere, just nailed Tanya with the Crackdown!

VA: Yay. Wait, hold on… let me act like I care more… yay.

Kage stands up, looking down at a prone Tanya, who hasn’t moved in the past few second. With the crowd going nuts, Kage picks up Tanya again, standing her up in the middle of the ring, and smiling at Stacy before we see him look up at the hard camera…

Chris Kage: This is for you, Robertson!

MM: Kage with a message… AND A SECOND CRACKDOWN! It’s academic now…












NR: The winner of the match, CHRIS KAGE!

MM: Chris Kage probably got more of a fight tonight than he was expecting from another returning superstar, but he pulls off the victory tonight!

VA: He tried to send a message to the Three Kings, but I don’t know what that message is. That he likes to beat up women?

MM: And look, Vince! Out on the entrance ramp is Martin Robertson! He’s out here, yelling something at Kage!

VA: And look at Kage, acting like he’s actually going to d…

MM: And there goes Kage! He’s sprinting after Robertson! And Robertson’s running like a dog with its’ tail between its’ leg!

VA: Maybe he was here to just talk to Kage. He doesn’t need to be chased down by a madman!

MM: Well, Robertson won’t be able to run when they meet at Live from London! Let’s he…

(As a defeated Tanya Black attempts to make her way out of the arena the lights suddenly drop the arena into darkness.)

MM: I have a bad feeling about this Vince..

VA: I hope it’s just a power failure, Malone.

(A section of the crowd suddenly reacts in the inky blackness as though something or someone untoward has gotten too close to them. A voice above the din announces what most have already figured out.)

Hank: ehehehe HERE PIGGY PIGGY!

VA: Oh Lord…

(The monster lets out an ear pitching squeal as the arena lights kick back in and Hank is in the ring standing inches from Tanya Black! They are eye to eye! Or eye to chest might be more accurate. Hank is saying something to Tanya who refuses to take a backward step. Instead she launches, catching Hank with a crescent kick high on his left hand side not quite collecting his head. It doesn’t phase the big man. Instead he grins and scoops her up in a crushing bear hug. Tanya refuses to give in as she begins headbutting Hank on the bridge of his nose causing it to explode with blood. Hank roars with fury as his own blood begins filling his mouth. He spits it right in Tanya’s face before slamming her violently into the mat with a belly to belly suplex.)

MM: That’s disgusting!

(As Tanya lays prone on the canvas Hank pulls his fork from the pocket of his jeans and plunges it deep into her forehead. Now both are wild eyed and bleeding.)

MM: Someone get out here! This has already gone too far!

VA: Wait, let’s see where this goes, I think she’s got his number!

(Before anything can escalate any further, the ring fills with referees and officials who separate the two brawlers, forcing Tanya from the ring and up the entrance. None of them engage Hank who is wielding that fork like it’s a six foot sword. He backs off before exiting the ring and disappearing into the crowd again.)

MM: Well that’s going to make for an interesting matchup.

VA: I hate him, Malone. Who in the hell hired that mad man?!


(We cut backstage again and show Azrael Goeren walking gingerly down a hallway, the black Hierarchy shirt he wore in his match against Sean Boden now draped across his neck. He looks around him for a few seconds, trying to get his bearings before a voice yells out to him from behind.)

?????: Henrik! Get over here!

(Instantly recognizing the voice of Sinnocence, Azrael barrells down the hallway and heads towards the locker room he left his duffle bag in earlier in the night. He turns the corner and spots Jada standing off to the side of the door as white smoke billows out from underneath the frame.)

Azrael Goeren: Holy shit! Is anyone in there?!

Sinnocence: I don’t know, I just came back here to grab your bag and saw all of this!

Azrael Goeren: Okay…fuck…okay, grab an extinguisher! There’s one near catering!

(Jada turns around and heads down the hallway, searching for an extinguisher to put out the fire behind the door. Azrael calls to a few backstage employees to stand back as he braces himself in front of the door and delivers a stiff kick, knocking the door partway in. He leans back and kicks it again and again before the door finally buckles and caves in as plumes of hot, white smoke cascade out into the hallway.)


(As the smoke starts to filter out into the hallway, the locker room becomes clearer as Azrael sees nobody else is inside of it but notices a flickering orange flame on top of the locker room bench. Jada soon shows up behind him and blasts the area with the fire extinguisher, focusing on where the smoke seems the heaviest. After a few seconds, the crisis is over and the fire is put out as Jada exhales loudly.)

Sinnocence: What did you have in your bag?

Azrael Goeren: Nothing that would have started a fire, I haven’t carried explosives with me to the arenas since 2012. Wait…what is…what is this?

(Moving towards his torched duffle bag, Azrael notices that something was draped over the bag and set on fire as an accelerant…he grabs the edges of the item and holds it up as pieces of burnt fabric drop to the floor below. Despite the damage, one particular logo can still be made out…)

Sinnocence: Another Hierarchy shirt?

(Azrael shakes his head, seeing the burnt remnants of the shirt fall apart in his hands. He lets the rest of it drop and looks angrily behind him towards the door.)

Azrael Goeren: He’s here. That son of a bitch…he wanted me to know he could have gotten me whenever he wanted. Fucking bastard. I don’t know what he wants or why he’s doing this but I’ve got to put an end to this…

(He looks back down at the smoldering ashes of what used to be the Hierarchy shirt and his duffle bag before shaking his head.)

Azrael Goeren: It’s time for me to find my old friend X-Calibur and bring this war to him.

NOTHING & Indrid Calder vs Ray Willmott & Grady Smith

MM: Coming up next, Vince, we’ve got a really intriguing tag team match coming up. Four of the best at playing the mind games in our sport, squaring off in tag team action!

VA: You mean two of the greatest minds, and two of the oldest!

MM: Vince, you don’t last as long as all of these men have in our business without having a great mind for it.

VA: No. HATE sticks around because they’re smart at what they do. Grady and Ray aren’t smart… quite the opposite. They’re too dumb to know when to quit!

MM: Either way, we’ve got two former EWA World Heavyweight Champions in this match, plus the current World Heavyweight Champion! Let’s head to the ring… take it away, Nikki!

NR: The following contest is a tag team matchup scheduled for one fall!


It seems strange that my life should end
in such a terrible place…




The distorted vocals of Placebo fade away, rolling into the opening of Puscifer’s ‘Smoke & Mirrors’, as a fog slowly begins to roll through the darkened entrance ramp. Through the camera flashes and the gray lighting we see the Purveyor and Stranger step out from the entrance curtain, side by side, brothers in HATE.

NR: Representing HATE…first, from Nothing, Arizona, weighing in at 225 pounds…THE STRANGER…INDRID…CALDER!! And from Albany, New York, weighing 255 pounds, he is the Purveyor…NOTHING!!

MM: When you see these two men walking together towards the ring, I don’t care who you are, it’s a scary sight!

VA: There probably hasn’t been a more formidable duo in the EWA as there has been in Indrid Calder and NOTHING.

MM: And we’ve seen that they’re not afraid to get their hands dirty, as earlier we saw NOTHING cost Jacob Mephisto the EWA Network Title.

VA: There are few men you never want to cross in this world, and these two men are near the top of that list, Malone.

As Calder and NOTHING enter the ring from opposite sides of the ring, the duo comes back together in the center of the ring, the slightly taller Calder standing just behind and to the side of NOTHING. The void that is felt when these two men stare directly into the camera sends chills down the spines of even those watching at home. NOTHING begins to remove his long black entrance robe as the Stranger also begins to remove his soot gray suit jacket, draping it just over the ring ropes.

As the entrance for HATE winds down, the lights dim and the riff at the beginning of ‘Moth Into Flame’ begins to play.

NR: … and their opponents! First, he hails from Cardiff, Wales, weighing in tonight at 220 pounds. This is… ‘RED… HOT’… RAY… WILLMOTT!

Fire starts to spread toward the ring. After a few seconds, the music kicks in and Willmott’s entire path to the ring is ablaze with fire as he makes his way to the ring. He is dressed in a Willmott t-shirt, and has black tights with fire down both sides and a dragon-symbol on his rear. Once Willmott is in the ring, he moves toward the furthest turnbuckle, raises his chin to the ceiling, and spreads out his arms in an angelic pose.

MM: If there’s any one person in the EWA now that has been on one of the most chaotic thrill rides so far in 2017, it has to be this man, Ray Willmott!

VA: I wouldn’t call anything having to do with Ray Willmott a “thrill ride”, Malone…. Or when does it become acceptable to finally start referring to him as Mr. Seton?

MM: Would you stop?

VA: Why start now?

MM: The man has gotten engaged and won the World Heavyweight Championship so far in 2017. That’s not too bad.

VA: No, it is too bad. Laura Seton is just an attention whore, and do you see him wearing the belt anymore?

The lights in the arena go out one more time…

MM: No, but you’re about to see the man who is!

The faint acoustic guitar sound begins to play over the loudspeaker…




NR: … and his tag team partner! He hails from Cortland, New York. Weighing in tonight at 257 pounds, presenting the EWA World Heavyweight Champion… This is… GRADY… SMITH!

Emerging from the curtain is the reigning World Heavyweight Champion, but you wouldn’t initially know it based on his entrance. Wearing the traditional long black duster and black cowboy hat, Grady slowly strides out to the center of the ramp, standing stoic before undoing the button on his duster, where we get our first glimpse of the World Heavyweight title wrapped around his waist.

MM: … and there he stands, Vince! For the eleventh time, Grady Smith is the reigning, defending World Heavyweight Champion of the wrestling world!

VA: … and the hottest stock on the New York Stock Exchange since the Asylum has been Sunsweet, the world’s largest producer of prune juice!

MM: Oh, give the man some credit, Ashe! He was the first one out of a pod in the Asylum and managed to outlast five other incredible athletes to win the title!

VA: Really, four, because Chris Kage interfered and took the title away from Alexander Haven!

MM: So then what about the interference that cost NOTHING his opportunity?

VA: No clue what you’re talking about. But I will give Grady some credit, Malone. He’s making sure ambulance operators around the country are making bank due to the overtime they have to log sending geriatrics back to the nursing home after they started to believe that they could now do anything they want to!

Grady strides up the steps and stands in the middle of the ring, hat and duster removed, World Heavyweight title slung over his right shoulder. A slight smile has come across his face as the fans applaud his appearance in the ring. The referee comes over to take the belt from Grady as he proceeds to head towards his corner, shaking the hand of Ray Willmott as the two of them begin to talk in the ring.

MM: Four veterans of the squared circle, Vince. Who do you have in this one?

VA: Insomnia, listening to you.

MM: They don’t call him the best color man in the business for nothing.


MM: And there’s the opening bell

As the teams discuss in their respective corners, we see NOTHING step towards the center of the ring as Willmott and Grady continue to stand in the corner, looking over at the duo of HATE pillars across the ring. Grady, suddenly, pats Willmott on the shoulder, sensing he wants to start the match. Willmott pats Grady on the back as he’s exiting the ring, and suddenly turns towards the center of the ring, charging at NOTHING with right hands! NOTHING covers up quickly, trying to absorb the onslaught, but gets pushed back into his own corner by Willmott. Willmott begins to come towards the corner, but sees Calder standing there and decides to wait for NOTHING back in the center of the ring.

NOTHING takes a moment to shake off the cobwebs before stepping away from the corner. He turns, though, and tags in Calder, who slowly steps through the ropes. Willmott begins to bounce around for a moment, waiting for Indrid to come closer. As the two meet together in the center of the ring, Indrid steps into Willmott, landing a thrust to the throat, stunning Willmott, who staggers to the rope. Calder steps towards him, whipping him across the ring, and landing another throat thrust as Willmott comes back from the ropes. Willmott grasps at his throat as Calder steps towards him again, draping an arm over his neck and bringing Willmott to the mat with a snap suplex. Calder stands over Willmott quickly, but then is slow in his movement towards the corner where Grady is standing, looking over towards the current World Heavyweight Champion. The two lock eyes for a moment, an intense staredown that doesn’t materialize, as Calder turns around and plants a boot to the side of Willmott’s head, sending him back down to the mat.

Calder walks back over and tags NOTHING back into the match, and the two men together pick up Willmott, pushing him towards the ropes. They whip Willmott across the ring, but on the rebound, Willmott ducks under the double clothesline, tagging in Grady just as he hits the ropes. On the second rebound, Willmott tackles NOTHING as Calder turns around to see Grady standing there right behind him, landing a right hand to the side of Calder’s temple. Calder staggers back as Grady lands two more right hands, pushing him to the ropes. Willmott and NOTHING are up, and Willmott has NOTHING backed up to the same ropes. Willmott and Grady look at each other before charging towards the HATE duo, clotheslining both men over the top rope to the floor, as the arena erupts in cheers for the men still standing in the ring.

MM: Willmott and Grady taking control of this match early, Vince.

VA: Hold on… the ambulance said they’d be here in about 7 minutes to pick these two up. Which entrance should I tell them to go to?

As NOTHING and Calder regroup on the outside, Willmott turns and heads back to the corner as Grady is still the legal man in the match. NOTHING hops back up to the ring apron on one knee before raising up and stepping through the ring ropes. Grady stands in the middle of the ring looking out at NOTHING, who comes right up nose to nose with the World Champion. NOTHING starts talking to Grady for a moment before turning around and walking over to tag in Calder. Calder looks at NOTHING bewildered for a second, before NOTHING whispers something into Calder’s ear. With a wry smile, Calder steps into the ring and now he’s standing face to face with Grady as NOTHING slips to the outside. The crowd comes to life with anticipation of Calder and Grady in the center of the ring as the two men, both expressionless, stare into the eyes of each other…




The blank stare of Calder is replaced, again, with that very thin, wry smile as suddenly, NOTHING has come around to the other side of the ring, pulling Willmott down off the apron and throwing him into the barricade! Grady, for a split second, turns to see what happened to Ray, which gives Calder just enough time to land an open-hand uppercut on the World Champion, sending him backwards. Quickly, Calder lands a second uppercut… then a third, before pushing Grady back to the ropes. Calder whips Grady across the ring, but Grady reverses in the middle, sending Calder into the ropes. Indrid comes back off the rebound and ducks a Grady clothesline. He rebounds a second time, ducking a second clothesline, but manages to grab onto the ropes to stop his momentum. Grady straightens up, but is send down to the mat face first by a double axehandle to the back of the head from NOTHING. Both NOTHING and Calder begin to surround the World Champion, taking turns stomping at him each time he makes an attempt to stand back up.

After more kicks to the midsection by the men of HATE onto Grady, NOTHING picks up Grady by the sides of his head, standing him up before landing three well-placed forearm shots to the side of Grady’s head before kicking him in the midsection, doubling him back over. The ref tries to step in to stop him, but a glaring look from Calder reminds the referee that he doesn’t really have a whole lot of power in the match. NOTHING locks Grady in with a double underhook, and plants him in the middle of the ring with an impressive Tiger Driver! The crowd begins to express their displeasure as NOTHING and Calder step back towards their corner…

MM: These two men look like they’re trying to make a point tonight!

VA: They’re using this match to put everyone on notice that HATE is truly alive and well, and when you can destroy the World Heavyweight Champion in the process!

MM: Calder is still the legal man here as the referee is having no luck getting NOTHING out of the ring… uh oh! This is not looking good for Grady…

VA: Calder’s calling For The Horsemen!

MM: Calder charges….

VA: WHAT?!?!


VA: But Willmott’s not the legal man!

MM: Well, neither is NOTHING, yet he’s still in there!

VA: Stop with your logic, Malone. He was barely inside the ring!

The force from Willmott’s spear on Calder has caused the two men to roll out of the ring to the outside floor. Willmott, still grimacing, bends over to pick up Calder and slam his head face first into the guardrail as, inside the ring, NOTHING moves towards Grady, picking him up and landing a few more forearm shots to the head. But Grady, with a small bit of energy, manages to push NOTHING back towards the center of the ring. NOTHING steps towards Grady, but Grady reverses positions with NOTHING, and now has him leaning against the ropes, landing three vicious knife edge chops across the chest of NOTHING! NOTHING holds the top rope with his right hand as Grady bounces off the far ropes, charging at NOTHING. At the last second, though…

MM: Here comes Grady…

VA: NO! NOTHING just flipped him over the top rope!

MM: But Grady landed on his feet on the ring apron. NOTHING turns around and eats a forearm shot from Grady. Grady hooks an arm from NOTHING…

VA: Don’t do it!

MM: Grady, trying for a vertical suplex, but can’t manage to get NOTHING over… and now NOTHING’s trying to suplex Grady back into the ring! But he can’t do it, either! Grady again, trrrrrrryyyyyyying….


MM: Second time’s the charm for Grady! He just suplexed NOTHING out of the ring and onto the ring apron! And now both men are down on the outside, just as Calder throws Willmott back into the ring!

VA: Everything’s breaking down here!

MM: It’s been back and forth action this whole match as both Ray Willmott and Indrid Calder stand in the middle of the ring, trading blows with each other! And now, on the outside, NOTHING and Grady are picking up right where they’ve left off, and they’re trading blows with each oth…. WHAT IN THE HELL?!?


MM: Sean Boden and Jacob Mephisto have come out! Boden just shoved Grady face first into the far ring post on the outside, and now both he and Mephisto turn their attention to NOTHING! Boden has his arms hooked behind his back as Mephisto is just pouring blows onto NOTHING!

VA: This has to be payback from earlier!

MM: I think you’re damn right, Vince. I think the ref has called for the bell here, but I’ll be damned if I heard it with all of these fans in Louisville, Kentucky, screaming their heads off… oh, wait a minute! Indrid Calder with a baseball slide square into Sean Boden, sending him into the guardrail!

VA: And Ray Willmott… suicide dive to the outside, taking out Mephisto! What is going on here?!?

MM: I can’t imagine they’re working… together…. Are they?

VA: Don’t be ridiculous, Malone!

MM: Grady’s back up now, grabbing Boden and throwing him into the ring as NOTHING is leaning up against the ring post, and Calder looks to have his eyes set on Mephisto as Willmott heads back into the ring as well.

VA: This isn’t looking like a wise idea for Boden and Mephisto at this point!

MM: Grady charges at Boden, but he ducks out of the ring just in the nick of time! And Calder on the outside, looking to hit For The Horsemen, but Boden grabs Mephisto and pulls him out of the way… But here comes NOTHING, charging into both men!

VA: This is carnage, Malone!

MM: And now Calder’s charging in, and those four men have started to brawl all the way to the back up the entrance ramp… oh! Calder hits hard, but is right back up!

NR: Ladies and gentlemen, the referee has declared this matchup to be a double disqualification!

VA: I don’t think Boden and Mephisto cared who they cost the match… they were just looking to get back at NOTHING from earlier!

MM: I think you might be right, Vince.

“Dogs of War” by Blues Saraceno begins to play over the loudspeaker as the referee hands Grady the World Heavyweight belt in the center of the ring, with Ray Willmott standing next to him. Grady grabs the top of his head with his right hand, holding the belt in his left as Ray walks over to check on Grady.

MM: I’m sure it’s still a chaotic scene in the back, but in just a few weeks time, Live from London, these two men standing the ring, Grady Smith and Ray Willmott, will square off one-on-one in the main event for the World Heavyweight Championship.


MM: Oh, would you please…

Ray claps his hands a few times before walking over to Grady, checking on him to make sure he’s ok. Grady, with his right hand, pats Ray on his shoulder as Ray raises Grady’s right hand to the crowd’s approval. Grady looks at Ray and smiles before extending his right hand for a handshake. Ray and Grady shake hands….but neither man initially lets go, and in an instant, it goes from an innocent handshake to a very tense one, as both prideful men refuse to be the one that let’s go, which causes them to go nose to nose.

MM: Look at the intensity between these two men!

VA: It’s like two senior citizens fighting over the last pair of Depends!

MM: It’s two men who will be fighting for the richest prize in all of professional wrestling, and even more so for Ray, he’ll be fighting in front of his home country!

VA: Get ready to be disappointed, England!

MM: Let’s send it backstage…


(Allison Haines walks down the hallway with a grin on her face. She knows this interview would be one where she could predict and expect the reactions of her interviewer. If nothing else at least this interview would take place. Making sure the cameraman was following her, Allison opens the door to the Trainer’s room to see Tanya Black sitting there by herself. Tanya was drinking a bottle of water as she sat there in her grey sports bra, with medicinal patches on her body and a bandage over her freshly wounded head. Looking up she smiles and leaps up to hug Allison who simply smirks and hugs Tanya back. Tanya grinned and made sure to lean into the microphone that Allison had a firm grip on.)

Tanya Black: Hug Buddy! I’m so happy to see you. I thought you might be upset with me after I didn’t invite you to the dance party. It was my return party and you were stuck in the back interviewing boring people. I wanted to keep it a surprise though and as a reporter you are a bit of a secret-spiller.

Allison Haines: It’s okay I promise I don’t mind doing my normal job. Besides you have a lot going on. I see your match with Chris Kage left you beat up. Then Hank came out and made it worse. A lot worse.

Tanya Black: Kage is a jerk but he’s talented. I knew it would be a hard match. But Kage is the past and Hank is the future and Doc Furman says I’ll be at a hundred percent for Live In London. Just playing it safe because hey, I can admit I’m human. No shame in that. A little patch-job and I’m good to go.

Allison Haines: Well you have managed to call out just about everyone on the roster. Aren’t you worried about how hard it will make things for you here in EWA?

(Tanya grins and hugs Allison again, seemingly oblivious to how sweaty she is. Allison just takes it in stride and waits for Tanya to speak up again, grateful that Tanya’s not actively bleeding.)

Tanya Black: Well Allison my dear you aren’t someone who has faced as many wars as I have. The Three Kings, HATE, Pariah, Fallout. They are all about themselves and think they know what is best for the future. I disagree. They are for later though. All I care about now that Kage and I have had our mutual return match is Hank. Hank the Hunter. I need to fight him. I need his challenge.

Allison Haines: Well he did answer you tonight for sure. In his own depraved way. The man was carrying around dead rabbits for god’s sake. It’s confirmed that at Live In London it will be Tanya Black vs. Hank and it seems blood may flow again and again if you two keep going at each other. I have to ask though. Why? Hank left you wrecked after Champion’s Summit II. You barely returned and you are going back into that lion’s den.

Tanya Black: Because I’m Pro Wrestling. Challenges and Defeats don’t depress me, they make me excited. Besides Hank needs me. I said that before.

Allison Haines: What does he need you for?

Tanya Black: Allison it’s all about the mindset of a professional wrestler. Wrestlers don’t get better just by going out there and winning and losing. Wrestlers don’t become indispensable to a company by letting people screw with their career and rob them of championship victories. Hank doesn’t realize it, but great professional wrestlers are made from Rivalries. From facing someone who truly desires deep down inside to out-wrestle you. Not end your career. Not destroy your life. Not a War. Any sociopath can go to War. Rivalries are special though, that is what pushes your limits and drives your hunger to improve and become more than you ever thought possible.

Hank will get better by facing me over and over again, seeing how every time I get better. How I won’t stop and I won’t let him rest even after a defeat. If Hank wants to stay ahead of me, he’ll have to become a better monster, a better murderer. The Ultimate Hunter. I’m busted up and haven’t even had time to take a shower but I’m conscious and I’m still calling him out. So much better off than what happened the first time he forked me.

Look at tonight! Hank cut a in-ring promo! Instead of waiting around for someone to tell him to go to the ring and get screwed over by his “friends” like Maggie, and hey he brought her up not me. He even came out again to beat me up and fork me! Hank is showing initiative! It’s so exciting! I have motivated Hank!

Allison Haines: And what could you possibly get?

Tanya Black: The same thing. Someone to push me to a point where no one in EWA will be able to deny me the best matches. The greatest challenges. I can steal the show and give the fans something they deserve: An EWA with proud champions who earned their titles and where the ultra-violence stays between the bells. Selling out is worn out. It’s time to bring back fighting for Honor and Pride.

Hank will make me strong enough to conquer Hell, at the same time I’ll make him strong enough to hunt the worst demons. Hank has needs. Hank has desires just like me. He doesn’t need to be my friend but whether he likes it or not, he will be my iconic foe here in EWA. I control this hunt.

Allison Haines: But Tanya… what if Hank ends your career at Live In London?

(Tanya stares for a moment and the silence becomes long enough to be awkward. Leaning in Tanya kisses Allison on the cheek.)

Tanya Black: Then it wasn’t meant to be. God is with me and his Plan will always happen. I have to be true to myself and that means doing what no one else is willing to do. I’m going to show Hank that sometimes what you think is a harmless piggie is really a rabid boar.

(With that Tanya leaves the trainer’s room as Allison Haines stares in surprise. Seeing the camera is still rolling, Allison recovers her composure.)

Allison Haines: Ladies and Gentlemen that was Tanya Black, who is mentally prepared for Live In London. Or mentally unhinged. Make sure to watch as we find out if anyone can ever be physically prepared to challenge the homicidal Hank.

Main EventGrace Goeren vs Maggie McIntyre


Nikki Rogers: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is schedule for one fall for the EWA Combat Championship!

The crowd boos, fully aware of how this title shot was “acquired”.

MM: A title shot schemed and scammed by her “beloved” general, Sahara, no less…

VA: Blasphemy, Malone. Grace Goeren not only deserves this title shot, but earned it every step of the way!

MM: Nobody outside of the blind followers of the church of Grace would agree.

“Chaos Royale” by the Sister Sin hits the arena loudspeakers as Grace Goeren makes her way out from behind the curtain. She stops front and center at the top of the stage, glaring out at the crowd as an arrogant looking smirk forms on her lips. Wearing a black t-shirt with the blood-red lips logo of The Fallout, a pair of red MMA combat gloves, a red compression top and a pair of black vale tudo shorts, she slightly bounces from side to side seeming to psych herself up for the pending match.

NR: Introducing first, the challenger, from Dortmund Germany, the God Queen of the Fallout, Grrrrrrace Goeren!

She holds her hands up high with the announcement of her name, waving off the fans absolute hatred as she starts jawing with them and making her way down the ramp. As fans reach out to touch her, she slaps their hands back, appalled they’d have the audacity to touch the God Queen, and flips off the entire arena in the process. She finally hits the ring and rolls underneath the bottom rope before jumping to her feet. After taking a few moments to glare out at the seething audience, Grace cracks her knuckles and starts stretching out her legs in the center of the ring, taking up as much space as she needs with no regard for the referee or the ring announcers presence.

NR: And her opponent…

The jeers suddenly shift to cheers as the opening drum beats of AFI’s ‘I Hope You Suffer” reverberates across the arena.

VA: I still don’t get why people cheer this woman they call the Banshee of HATE, Malone…

MM: Likely because people like Michael Draven, Sahara and Grace Goeren have made her life a living hell for no reasons other than petty jealousy, contempt and the fact they’ve been out blood for what seems like forever?

VA: Other than that, I mean…


I got two letters from you
Last words of the runaway
Your love was written so true
And now I can’t speak your name


As Banshee of HATE, Maggie McIntyre, appears at the top of the rampway, the crowd reaches a fever pitch in anticipation of her shutting the God Queen down. Dressed in a tight black top, buckled corset and fishnets tucked into knee high boots, she begins to stride down the ramp, her long black hair braided with raven’s feathers softly bouncing as she moves with the Combat championship proudly displayed around her waist.


I faced destruction and you
Just killed me and walked away
I gave my heart to the cruel
Now, it will not beat again


MM: Listen to this reaction!

VA: Yeah, yeah…brainwashed sheep.

MM: The only ones brainwashed around here are you and the rest of the followers of Grace Goeren, who’s slowly destroying everything she created with the Fallout.

As the Banshee climbs into the ring, stepping through the ropes and raising a fist to the roar of the crowd, she unbuckles the Combat title and holds it up for all to see. Shedding her leather jacket to the outside, her music slowly begins to die down as she stares across the ring at Grace Goeren and holds the Combat title out toward referee Danny Smith. Taking possession of her prized title, the referee shows it to Grace before holding it up for all to see.

NR: From Albany New York, the Banshee of HATE and reigning, undisputed EWA Combat Champion, I give you Maaaagggieeeee McIntyreeeeeeeeeee!

Throwing both fists into the air, the crowd cheers as her name is announced. As Nikki Rogers vacates the ring and Danny Smith hands the Combat championship off to the timekeeper, he motions for the bell and the start of the match.


MM: And here we go!

Without hesitation, Grace charges across the ring and collides with Maggie, sending her face first into the turnbuckles, dropping her to her knees. Shaking her head from the impact, Maggie grabs the ropes on either side of the turnbuckles and attempts to push herself back to her feet, but Grace clubs her back down to the canvas with thunderous rapid fire forearms across the upper back.

MM: She didn’t even wait for her to turn around!

VA: The bell rang, Malone, Maggie shoulda’ been ready!

MM: It’s called sportsmanship, Ashe…the spirit of competition. She was just turning and Grace was already on her! I suppose this is what we should all expect out of these Fallout ladies, and I use the term ladies quite loosely.

VA: That’s what they say about Sahara.

Sending Maggie into the ropes, the God Queen hits her in the midsection with a lifted knee, sending the Banshee up and over, who rolls into the bottom rope and wraps her arm around it for stability. Getting back to her feet in a hurry, Maggie sends a solid kick into the side of Grace’s knee as she approaches, stunning her momentarily. Following it up with another, Maggie grabs the top rope and yanks herself all the way up before diving at Grace, hitting her with a lunging clothesline, sending them both toppling to the mat.

MM: This is no nonsense action from the get go!

VA: With Maggie taking a cheap shot just below the knee to gain an advantage!

Scrambling back to her feet, Maggie follows it up with a vicious boot Grace’s upper shoulder and grabs her by the back of the shirt, spinning her to gain momentum, Maggie lets her go and sends her like a missile into the turnbuckles! ‘OHHHHHH!’ goes the crowd as Grace flies right through the turnbuckles and slams her shoulder off the ring post with a thud!

MM: She felt that one! That hit hard.

VA: Oh, really, Doctor Malone? She felt a steel ring post to the shoulder? Moron.

MM: I’m just highlighting the action, Vincent…

Falling on her back while clutching her shoulder, Maggie clears the way and stomps down, focusing on Grace’s now injured shoulder. Grabbing hold of her hand, the Banshee twists Grace’s arm behind her back, once again wrenching on the shoulder. Yanking her in, she gives her a short shoulder block, and repeats the motion, dropping Grace to a knee.

MM: This is how you put on a clinic, Ashe, you zone in on a weakness and go to work.

VA: Well thanks for that veteran lesson, Grady Smith.

Stepping through the ropes onto the ring apron as Grace staggers, Maggie grabs hold of the top rope and waits, timing the move…springing up onto the top rope Maggie’s hit’s Grace flush in the injured shoulder with a springboard superman punch!

VA: And now she’s stealing Sahara’s moves…she’s so petty.

MM: Oh my God?! Stealing SAHARA’S moves?!

VA: You said it!

Stomping down on Grace’s shoulder again, the Banshee drags Grace toward the corner and begins ascending the turnbuckles which elicits a huge response from the crowd!

MM: She’s setting up the Outlaw Star! If she hits this, say goodnight to your precious God Queen!

VA: She got lucky when Grace lost her footing and hit that ringpost, Malone, she’s been off her game since the injury!

MM: Excuses.

The negative crowd response drowns out the action momentarily as Maggie stops short of the top rope and her gaze moves toward the entryway.

MM: Uh oh, what’s Michael Draven doing out here?!

Shaking her head as she sees Michael Draven approaching ringside, the Banshee yells something toward him as his smile merely grows, holding his arms out as if it play innocent.

VA: It’s not that difficult to put two-and-two together, Malone. There’s no love lost between Maggie McIntyre and Michael Draven, but let’s be honest about it, Michael Draven has done nothing wrong to this point…he just wanted to get a better view of the action, and I can’t blame him!

MM: A better view of the action?! He’s serving as a distraction because his little girlfriend can’t be out here after what Natalie Burrows did to her earlier tonight, and you know it!

Dropping off the turnbuckles, Maggie decides it safer to abort the move with Draven standing so close and grabs Grace and yanks her back to her feet. Pointing out toward Michael, the Banshee hits her with a quick kneelift and follows it up in one motion by grabbing her around the throat and slams the former world champion backwards off the mat with a mini-chokeslam! Stomping down on her shoulder again for good measure, Grace writhes in pain as the relentless assault from the Banshee continues. Keeping an eye on Michael as well as Grace’s whereabouts, Maggie yells something toward the referee about Michael’s presence in the match. The Banshee once again continues her focus on Grace’s injured shoulder.

MM: With a series of quick stomps followed by an elbow drop to Grace’s shoulder area, the Banshee has been on fire, Ashe! Michael or no Michael, she’s keeping her wits about her. I just wonder who they hired this time to keep HATE from ringside?

VA: Knowing those weirdos, this just serves as another circus freak test for Maggie.

MM: Or knowing the competitor Maggie is, she asked they let her deal with the likes of Grace and Michael Draven on her own.

Once again grabbing hold of a stunned Grace, Maggie keeps her off balance with a barrage of punches, continuing her focus on the shoulder before sending her into the ropes–desperation REVERSAL! Grace ducks a clothesline and hits Maggie with a flying leg kick across Maggie’s upper torso, sending both toppling to the mat. Grabbing hold of her sable hair with her good arm, Grace screams something in Maggie’s face before putting her throat across the second rope and choking the life out of her against the ropes with her knee, pulling down over the top rope for leverage.

MM: Maggie got the wind knocked out of here there with that leg kick coming in across her face! Danny Smith needs to restore order here with Michael Draven, he’s not even seeing the blatant illegal choke!

VA: Grace seems to have gotten her second wind after that amazing reversal.

MM: Nobody ever said Grace was a slouch in the ring, Ashe, but Michael’s presence is obviously weighing on Maggie.

Finally getting his eyes back on the match at hand, Danny Smith begins counting five to force Grace to break the hold.


















Waiting until the last second, Grace relinquishes the hold before shoving Maggie in the back of the head, once again yelling something at her. Reaching over the top rope, Grace once again pushes her knee into the back of Maggie’s head, choking her across the ropes! Danny Smith grabs Grace and yanks her off to massive cheers from the audience!

MM: There ya go, Danny boy! Take control!

Looking back at the opposite ropes, Grace pushes Smith out of the way and runs against the opposite ropes with a head of steam and jumps up to crush Maggie’s throat against the ropes! NO! MAGGIE MOVES and Grace lands squarely between the second rope, falling on her injured shoulder awkwardly!

MM: Don’t tell me that doesn’t hurt a woman, Ashe!

VA: I think landing on that injured shoulder did more damage, Malone…Grace is hurt!

With Maggie draped over the bottom rope and and Grace grasping her shoulder, writhing in pain, Danny Smith puts both hands in the air, set to begin a ten count for the double countout. Stopping for a second, Smith first points out toward Michael Draven who’s approaching the ring apron! Throwing an arm in the air and pointing toward the back, the crowd suddenly POPS as Danny Smith EJECTS Michael Draven from ringside!


MM: It’s about damn time!


MM: Get him the hell outta here so we can get a fair match! Bye bye, Michael Draven!

Pointing toward the back, the fans join the referee pointing toward the entryway and wave goodbye as Michael Draven slowly backs up the rampway, shaking his head, yelling something at Danny Smith.

A huge burst of boos suddenly breaks out at ringside!

MM: Wait, WHAT! What the hell?!

Down on one knee ringside as a local contingent of fans leans over the barricade yelling obscenities, Sahara’s shakes her hand out not far from where Maggie is slung over the bottom rope. The crowd reacts with thunderous boos as realization sets in that McIntyre’s out cold, but Grace hasn’t noticed!

MM: She must have hit her with with Ride of the Valkyrie when she was leaning up against the ropes, and knowing Sahara, she did it with a loaded fist while all eyes were on Michael Draven!

VA: Hahaha! Michael and Sahara had it set up the entire time! GET UP GRACE! GET UP!

MM: You were talking about travesties?! How is Sahara even out here considering that injury she sustained earlier in the night? Reports were that Doctor Furman had to cauterize a broken blood vessel in her nose, and she was NOT cleared for further action!

VA: Take it up with Alyssa Marie Haven! That bruise on Sahara’s face is sick, Malone…putting her body at risk for the God Queen! ALL PRAISE TO GRACE!

Seeing Sahara on the outside, Grace shakes her head and slowly get’s to her feet, dragging Maggie away from the ropes. Wincing in pain as she gingerly holds her shoulder, Grace falls to her knees and drops backwards over Maggie, bridging herself up for added leverage. Holding his arms out wondering what happened, Danny Smith jumps into position for the count and the capacity crowd counts along with him!

MM: Maggie had this match!















MM: Nooo!


A collective groan sweeps across the audience as various fans can be seen shaking their heads, holding out hope in anticipation of Danny Smith waiving off the victory. A brief slut chant directed at Sahara breaks out ringside as the angry fans show their dismay at what went down.

MM: NO! NO! Michael Draven and Sahara may have just ended Maggie McIntyre’s Combat title reign!

VA: And NEWWWWWW WORLD Combat Champion!

MM: Oh God…please tell me that didn’t just happen…


MM: This has got to be a disqualification or something…


MM: Anything but…hold up…Danny Smith is talking it out with ringside officials and Nikki Rogers. Let’s go to to Nikki Rogers for the official decision…I guess…

As confusion reigns on the outside, a few of the officials ringside point to Sahara, as Danny Smith points toward the entry ramp and an argument ensues amongst them.

After a brief animated conversation, Danny Smith waves it off and motions for the bell.

MM: I think they’re gonna restart the match!

VA: The’d better NOT restart this match, this match is OVER!

NR: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match, and NEEEWWWWWW EWA Combat Champion–

The boos drown out Nikki’s announcement as the capacity crowd shakes their collective heads as Sahara springs up, her arms in the air!

MM: Oh my God…


Nikki Rogers lowers the microphone in disgust as Grace kneels in the center of the ring, trying to process what happened.

MM: I’ll tell ya, these fans are none too happy with the result and there’s almost no point in complaining to management, as I’m sure they’ll bury their heads in the sand and pretend Sahara and Michael had nothing to do with the finish of this match!

VA: Stop whining Malone and enjoy the moment!

Wrestling the Combat title away from the timekeeper and doing her best to ignore the random insults thrown her way, Sahara rolls into the ring and hands the Combat title over to Grace who falls forward, hugging it tightly. Sahara attempts to hug Grace, but the new Combat champion seems to completely ignore her while caught up in the celebration of her victory.

Sahara looks from Grace to the prone body of Maggie McIntyre and the officials tending to her when a cup of soda suddenly explodes off her back, showering the ring with the sticky liquid. Turning toward the crowd, the blonde screams something back at the legion of upset fans and complains audibly about fans throwing things at her. Oblivious to her surroundings, Grace holds the title and stares down at it before lifting it to her face and kissing it’s faceplate.

MM: You’re getting what you deserve from these fans, Sahara, you just sold your soul for this despicable woman AGAIN.

VA: Sahara knows her place beside the God Queen and she did a fine job, but Grace Goeren is the new champion! Just look at her in all her golden glory!

MM: Without Sahara, none of this happens for your precious God Queen or to Maggie McIntyre, who had this match well at hand.

VA: Shhh, quiet, our new lovely champion might have some parting words for us!

MM: We’re never going to hear the end of this…never…

VA: I know, it’s going to be great!

(A huge smile breaks across Grace’s face as she hold the Combat Championship belt high in the air, getting even more venomous hate from the crowd. She climbs to the top turnbuckle and holds the belt up again, laughing hysterically as she pulls the belt down and kisses it before taking a victory lap around the ring for every section of the arena to see her new prize.)

MM: What is this now? Is she calling for a microphone?

VA: YES! Our first address by the God Queen as our new World Combat Champion! How lucky are we?!

(Grace angrily screams at Nikki Rogers to give her the microphone before reaching through the ropes and snatching it out of her hands and berating her all the while. Grace stands in the center of the ring and flings the Combat title over her shoulder before staring out at the deafening audience with a smug, satisfied smile on her face. She brings the microphone up and starts to speak, still breathing heavily after the match, as Sahara stands behind her and slightly to her right, where she belongs.)

Grace Goeren: My babies…my babies…you have all been saved!

(With her free hand, she hoists the belt back up into the air as the raucous booing continues, the fans clearly pissed at seeing her with another title belt as Sahara applauds the God Queen.)

Grace Goeren: I just want…I just want to thank a few people who made this happen here tonight. I want to thank all of my babies out there in the crowd who have pledged your undying faith to your God Queen. I want to thank my two angels, Elizabeth Gaunt and Lucy Blaylock in particular. Through your love and devotion, you gave me strength…I did this for you two! I did this for The Fallout! Praise Grace!

(Taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to compose herself, Grace is clearly getting emotional.)

Grace Goeren: But there is one very special person that I need to single out and thank right here and right now. This person has been through so many trials and tribulations lately and has shown nothing but dedication and hard work to get herself to the top. Without her, this moment would not be possible and there was never any doubt in my mind that I could always rely on her when things got tough. So please…let me just publically thank…

(Trying to hide an almost uncontrollable smile as she stands proudly behind Grace, Sahara soaks it all in as the God Queen pauses a moment and looks up at the crowd with legitimate tears in her eyes.)

Grace Goeren: ME! I want to thank ME! I showed each and every one of you out there in the stands all of the bitches in the back just who is the most talented and dominant wrestler in the world today! I did this! I did it all!

MM: Look at that stunned look on Sahara’s face, Ashe!

Grace Goeren: And now that I’ve got it, this belt is the REAL World Championship and I am the REAL World Champion. I’m the future of the EWA! I’m the one and only champion here! SO PRAISE ME BITCHES! PRAISE ME!

(Throwing the microphone as far as she can into the stands, Grace ascends to the top rope again as “Chaos Royale” by Sister Sin starts playing over the loudspeakers as Grace decadently soaks in her moment.)

MM: I can’t believe this, Grace Goeren is the new Combat Champion and she tried to say she did that all on her own?! Did she not notice Michael Draven OR Sahara? And speaking of Sahara…she gave her no credit at all! Without Sahara, Grace Goeren simply would not be the Combat Champion right now!

VA: We gotta get you off of all those conspiracy theory subreddits, Malone! Grace came into this match tonight and earned her new title fair and square! Sahara had nothing to do with this victory!

MM: Yeah, okay. I just…ugh…this is horrible. I don’t know what else to say. Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Mike Malone, for Vincent Ashe, thanks for joining us tonight and we’ll see you next time from across the pond when we go Live from London! See you all then!


(We cut back to the ring with Grace screaming out toward the jeering crowd, pointing victoriously at her new Combat Championship as behind her in the ring, the Crimson Queen stoically gazes up at the God Queen as we slowly fade to black.)


© 1998-2017
EWA Wrestling – a Division of EWA Entertainment
This event may not be rebroadcast without the expressed written consent of EWA Entertainment.

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“Five Guys Burgers and Fries,” “Five Guys Enterprises” and “Five Guys” are registered trademarks of Five Guys Operations.
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“Schadenfreude.com,” “Midget Albino Donkey Sex,” “Surprise Wedding Sucker Punch” and “Dieter” are registered trademarks of Schadenfreude.com & Azrael Goeren Enterprises.

Nikki Caldwell vs Rachel Ellsworth – Joyce McGuire
Elizabeth Gaunt vs Jacob Mephisto – Gates
Minxy Jones vs Natalie Burrows – Harlan Heubaum
Sean Boden vs Azrael Goeren – Sean Boden
Michael Draven/Alexander Haven vs Lunatikk Crippler/Tyler Morris – Will Santa
Tanya Black vs Chris Kage – Chris Furman
Grady Smith/Ray Willmott vs NOTHING/Indrid Calder – Chris Furman
Grace Goeren vs Maggie McIntyre – Harlan Heubaum