(The camera pans around the Combat Zone in Boston, looking at a sold out, capacity crowd. Fans begin to wave their signs and show off their colorful costumes of their favorite wrestlers, including a couple of people on the floor dressed as Hank and Indrid Calder.)
(Without warning, the sounds of trumpets begin to echo throughout the arena, but not from the speaker system. As we look up towards the stage, we see three men step through the curtain, lock step with each other, moving towards the center of the entrance stage. They are dressed in what could only be considered royal medieval costumes — long, puffy, alternating red and blue robes draped almost the entire length of their body, with tight black pants and black boots, and a matching alternating red and blue bourrelet on their heads. The telltale sign of the clothing, though, is the crest that sits smack in the middle of the front of the robes.)
(The two outside men in the formation have, not actual trumpets as we originally thought, but long bugle horns, adorned with matching red and blue ribbons. The third man, in between the two trumpeters, carries what appears to be a scroll, holding it in both hands by the ends. As the trio reaches the edge of the stage, they halt their formation, and the glorious sounds coming from the horns entertains us for a few more seconds before cutting off.)
Royal Scribe: Here ye… here ye…
(The noise from the horns has now been replaced by an equally loud chorus of boos, reigning down from the EWA faithful…)
Royal Scribe: A Royal Proclamation By Order of Their Highness, The Three Kings
Whereas it has been taken into our Royal Consideration the enormity of the War of the Three Kings, We have thought fit, with the Advice of our Privy Council, to issue this our Royal Proclamation, hereby to publish and declare to all our loving Subjects, that we have, with the Advice of our Said Privy Council, declare that today, a special day in honour of the Three Kings Kingdom.
And whereas great Frauds and Abuses have been committed throughout the kingdom, to the great Prejudice of our Interests and to the great Dissatisfaction of said people of the Kingdom, We do, with the Advice of our Privy Council, strictly enjoin that no private Person within the Kingdom shall no further be disillusioned by falsehoods spread throughout the Kingdom.
And whereas it is just and reasonable, a celebration shall occur in honour of the conclusion of the Great War, and that a royal coronation that shall commence forthright following the reading of this proclamation.
And we do further expressly conjoin and require that all People throughout the Kingdom rejoice in the splendor that is the Kingdom of the Three Kings.
Given at our Court at the Combat Zone the Fifth day of May 2017, in the Second Year of our Reign.
God Save The Kings.
(Upon completion of the reading of the “proclamation”, the trumpeters begin to play as the royal guard trio move, in unison, from the center of the stage off to the right hand side. However, they are quickly replaced by what has to be 40 – 50 more royal guard members, all dressed exactly the same, as they march out from behind the curtain in pairs. The front two stop at the end of the entrance ramp and turn to face in towards the ramp. Each subsequent royal guard member falls in line next to the previous one, until they have all lined the entire entrance ramp and stage. As the last of the royal guard have fallen into place…)
HAIL TO THE KING
HAIL TO THE ONE
KNEEL TO THE CROWN
STAND IN THE SUN
HAIL TO THE KING!
(Avenged Sevenfold’s “Hail to the King” blares throughout the loudspeaker, and now coming through the curtain are the Three Kings of Wrestling. First through the curtain is “Perfection” Martin Robertson, dressed in jeans and a black 3K t-shirt, also sporting a floor-length red and blue cape matching the clothing of the royal guard, and a golden crown atop his head. As he stands at the edge of the ramp, attempting to do the most regal pose he can come up with, next through the curtain is Alyssa Marie Haven, wearing a gown fit for a queen while still leaving very little to the imagination. Coming through the curtain with her is the man of the hour, the new EWA World Heavyweight Champion, Alexander Haven. Dressed in the finest black suit that money could possibly buy, he and Alyssa stride to the edge of the stage and take their place next to Martin. Alex has the EWA World Heavyweight Title draped over his left shoulder, but it appears to be encased in some sort of plastic film, obstructing us from truly seeing the actual belt.)
Mike Malone: Good evening everyone, from the Combat Zone here in Boston, Massachusetts…
Vincent Ashe: … WHAT AN ENTRANCE!
MM: … and on the heels of one of, if not, the most controversial endings we have ever seen, folks, you are looking at the end result, and that is Alexander Haven, for the first time ever, is the EWA World Heavyweight Champion.
VA: Bow to the king, Malone!
MM: And now, after the unscrupulous manner in which he won the title…
VA: He pinned Grady Smith fair and square, Malone… Don’t you go trying to sully the name of the good king!
MM: … he now wants to have a coronation and a celebration of his accomplishment?
VA: What king wouldn’t?
MM: He can have his celebration, but as we learned earlier this week, Grady will get his rematch for the title in tonight’s main event!
(As the crowd continues to rain down boos and jeers towards the Three Kings, the trio stride through the line of the royal guard towards the ring, where Martin is the first in, rolling under the bottom rope, holding onto his crown to not lose it, and barely managing to not get himself entangled in the royal cape he’s wearing. Alex and Alyssa use the stairs instead, where Alex holds the ropes open for Alyssa to enter first before he climbs into the ring behind her. The group pose in the center of the ring for a moment before Martin walks over and grabs the microphone from the ringside area. He stands in front of Alex, dropping to one knee to “present” him the microphone. Alex takes it, then waves Martin back to his feet.)
(Just as he’s about to speak, the crowd begins to jeer the trio, causing Alex to pull the microphone away from his face for a few moments, letting the fans quiet down before attempting to speak again…)
Alexander Haven: Thank you… thank you for that wonderful ovation for our arrival into the Kingdom’s Court tonight! It truly… It truly means a lot to be YOUR… EWA World Heavyweight Champion!
You know, for so long, I’ve dreamed about this moment. But for the sake of the industry, I’ve always done what was best for business, and put so many other people before me and the things that I wanted to achieve. Put them ahead of my dreams and aspirations. Guys like Chris Kage, guys like Grady Smith… I put them ahead of myself. Out of pure benevolence, by the way!
So when the opportunity presented itself, to give me the opportunity to finally do what’s best for Alexander Haven… I took it! And look…
(The crowd starts to boo Alex…)
Alexander Haven: Don’t boo me. Listen, you all would do the same exact thing if you were put in my position! If someone told you that you could go out and achieve your dream… a dream that you’ve allowed so many others to achieve ahead of you… you’d all do the same exact thing! And don’t pretend like you wouldn’t! This city is synonymous with teams that will do anything… ANYTHING… to win a championship, including cheat! That’s right, you’re all a bunch of cheaters out there!
(The boos grow even louder for Alex. Martin is in the ring, trying to tell the crowd to calm down. Obviously, it’s not working…)
Alexander Haven: And if you’re not cheaters, you condone the cheating by continuing to celebrate when they do finally win! But me… I’m not a cheater! I don’t need to cheat to win! At Live from London, once again, I pinned Grady Smith in the middle of the ring! Only this time, I won the EWA World Heavyweight Championship! In big matches against me, Grady Smith just can’t get the job done!
MM: Can you believe this absurdity?
VA: Absur… what? You should feel honored that Alex has invited you to this event!
MM: Invited? We work here, Vince.
VA: Even better… I’m getting paid to be at a celebration!
Alexander Haven: I took the World Heavyweight Champion from your precious gunslinger, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it! Except maybe he could have cleaned the belt before the match. That’s why you see this layer of plastic around the belt. It’s out of necessity! Not because I couldn’t get Grady’s name plate off. But do you know the people that have held this belt? Grady Smith. Ray Willmott. Laura Seton. Chris Kage. I mean, who knows what they’ve done with this thing! It’s so diseased it probably deserves a Sally Struthers infomercial asking people to donate money to help save it!
But you know what? I know how much this belt means to everyone, and how grateful they are to see it back home with the Three Kings! So with all of that said… I think it’s time we start the coronation of my greatness! Bring me my new royal crown!
MM: Royal crown?
(Coming through the curtain at the top of the stage are two more of the Three Kings’ Royal Guard. They are on each side of a large glass case that they are carrying. Inside the case is a brand new EWA World Heavyweight Championship belt, resting on a bed of red velvet. The case itself must way over a hundred pounds, as the two men bringing it to the ring look as if they’re doing all they can just to not drop it.)
VA: Look at that, Malone! Isn’t that gorgeous!
MM: Haven apparently spared no expense with this ceremony tonight, even getting himself a brand new belt!
(Just as the two men carrying the case reach the bottom of the ramp and are about to turn to head up the steps into the ring…)
Alexander Haven: Hold up just one second. Before you enter the King’s ring…
VA: King’s ring… Hey, that rhymes! I like that.
MM: I bet you like those Fisher Price See and Say wheels as well…
VA: I do! How’d you know?
Alexander Haven: … before we properly start this coronation, I have noticed that one of the King’s most important subjects is not here to bear witness to this glorious event. And, as the benevolent king that I am, I’d be remiss if they were not present to take part in tonight’s festivities. So Grady Smith…
(The crowd pop’s as the legend’s name…)
Alexander Haven: Grady Smith, I know you’ve got to be in the back by now — per the new rule I implemented that ALL talent must be backstage by the time the show starts.
MM: What new rule?
Alexander Haven: That wonderful new rule I implemented a whole thirty seconds ago. I also know you’re back there, because you’re not stupid enough to forfeit your title shot or that lucrative contract you have. So come on down here, and join us in the ring for the celebration!
MM: Good lord, Alex has gotten completely ridiculous with this!
VA: You say ridiculous, I say benevolent and gracious!
MM: You only say it because Alex says it.
VA: What better role model to take after than a bona fide king?
(The camera cuts backstage to the locker room area, where all we see right now is Allison Haines standing in a hallway full of white block walls as the chants of “GRA-DY! GRA-DY!” begin in the arena. The camera turns to the right to see a door that has a piece of paper on it with the name ‘Grady Smith’ on it. Allison knocks on the door once, but it immediately opens to show that it’s not so much of a locker room area as it is a janitorial closet full of cleaning supplies. However, the room is empty, no Grady inside. But as the camera turns to the right some more…)
Grady Smith: That king… he’s a real court jester, isn’t he?
Allison Haines: Grady! Haven’t you heard?
Grady Smith: Heard what? I was busy putting all of my ring stuff in the Three Kings locker room. Obviously I’m not changing in a janitor’s closet.
Allison Haines: Alex is in the ring, requesting that you head out to the ring for his coronation ceremony.
Grady Smith: Request my presence for his coronation ceremony? You know… I might just have to attend this “ceremony.” I’ve got a few things I’d like to say to Alex…
(Grady pats Allison on the arm before turning back the way he came, heading through the first series of curtains a few yards further down the hallway.)
(The camera cuts back out to ringside, where we still see the Three Kings standing in the ring…)
Alexander Haven: C’mon Grady, we don’t have all night. Put the wheelchair into overdrive and get out here!
(Almost as if on cue, stepping through the curtain sans entrance music is Grady Smith. Dressed still in his gray suit with white button down shirt and slightly undone tie, Grady walks to the edge of the stage, holding a microphone in his hand. But as Grady starts to bring the microphone up towards his face…)
Alexander Haven: Grady! I… We… we’re so happy you could join us for this momentous occasion tonight! I mean, after all, it was you who so graciously relinquished the crown jewels of the EWA back to their rightful owners, the Three Kings!
(Enormous round of jeers from the fans..)
MM: Relinquish?!? They stole the title from him at London!
VA: You say stole, I say won…
Alexander Haven: But… I know you’ve probably got a lot that you want to say about what happened in London..
MM: You’re damn right he does!
Alexander Haven: .. and I’m sure you weren’t happy about having to fly to Sydney for the roundtable, but those people in Sydney loved you, Grady! I mean, how often have you gotten an all-expense paid trip to Australia to meet all of your wonderful fans? And don’t worry, we tipped Joanne well for you, didn’t we Marty?
(Alex slaps Martin playfully, but both Martin AND Alyssa start to side glare at Alex…)
Alexander Haven: Sorry, I’m really getting off topic here. So, why did I ask you, specifically, out here for my coronation ceremony and celebration? Well, it’s simple. Every celebration needs some form of entertainment. And, since every band that I didn’t call decided not to show up, I figure why not give these great subjects of mine some sort of… sporting exhibition.
MM: Sporting exhibition? What the hell is he talking about?
Alexander Haven: And, not just any sporting exhibition, but I mean, we’re talking about the Three Kings Kingdom here… it’s got to be a World Class sporting exhibition!
VA: You hear that? It’s gonna be world class!
MM: Yeah, I heard it. I still have no clue what the hell it means.
Alexander Haven: So, for my world class exhibition…
(As Alex continues to talk, we see Senior Referee Danny Smith walk past Grady, down the corridor of royal guards and into the ring…)
Alexander Haven: That World Heavyweight Title rematch I told you was going to be the main event? It’s going to happen right now!
VA: NO WAY!
MM: Is he serious?
VA: Well, why else would Danny Smith be out there?
GRADY SMITH VS ALEXANDER HAVEN
EWA WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
MM: But look at Grady! He doesn’t care when it is! He’s got the jacket off, and he’s heading to ringsi… OH DEAR LORD!
VA: GET HIM, MARTY!
MM: I haven’t heard a bell or anything, but Martin Robertson just dove head first out of the ring, taking his father down right next to those two royal guards holding the belt!
(Martin continues to pound away at the head of Grady Smith, who’s doing his best to try and block all of the blows. Martin stands up over Grady as we start to see some movement from the line of royal guards that surrounded the entrance ramp.)
MM: Where are they all going?
VA: It looks like they’re starting to surround the ringside area!
(Indeed, the ringside area, much as if it were a lumberjack match, has now been surrounded by the Three Kings’ royal guard. Martin backs up a few steps, watching Grady try to get to his feet. As he finally does, Grady inadvertently turns and bumps into one of the men standing guard around the ring…)
VA: Look, he’s attacking a guard… OFF WITH HIS HEAD!
MM: Would you please…
(The guard pushes Grady off of him, into the arms of Martin, who starts punching away at the head of Grady again. But Grady begins to counter, landing his own right hands on the side of Martin’s head. Martin starts to back up, trying to get out of range of Grady, but he continues to close the distance. However, Alex is now outside as well, as he has undone the suit, taking off the jacket and dress shirt. He runs up behind Grady, landing a double axehandle blow to the back of Grady’s head, sending him staggering into a couple more royal guard members.)
MM: This isn’t a match… it hasn’t even started yet! This is a mugging by the Three Kings!
(Alex grabs Grady by the head, slamming it into the ring apron, then turning around, waving a few of the royal guard out of the way and slamming it off the ringside guardrail. Martin has recovered and, as Grady is slumped over, places a boot right into the midsection of the former champion. Grady staggers around, trying to find an opening, but the royal guard is tight in formation, not allowing him to get past. Grady continues to circle around the ring, trying to regain his composure. Martin is first to Grady, but Grady lands a punch to the gut of Martin before throwing him into the far ringpost! Alex charges from behind, but Grady dodges him as well. Alex puts the brakes on before running into the ringpost as well, but turns around to catch a HUGE right hand from Grady as the fans begin to erupt!)
MM: This might be a two on one, Vince, but Grady’s holding his own out there!
VA: Just wait until the oxygen tank depletes, Malone… it’s coming.
(Grady continues to attack Alex with right hands before slamming his head into the ring apron. Meanwhile, behind Grady, Martin has pulled up the curtain along the ring apron and has started to pull out various items from underneath the ring. Grady slams Alex’s head into the ring apron again, then turns around towards Martin. Just as he turns, though, Martin greets him with a huge uppercut, sending Grady staggering backwards. This gives Martin just enough time to bend down into his collection…)
MM: GOOD LORD! Did you hear that chair shot on Grady?
VA: I think everyone throughout the kingdom heard that one!
MM: GOOD GOD! A second chair shot on Grady… and somehow he’s still standing… DDT on the floor by Haven!
VA: Now he’s down Malone!
(Alex stumbles backwards into the ring apron, using the ring to hold him up. Martin slams the chair down on the mat outside the ring, then proceeds to pull a table out from underneath the ring. While Martin starts to set up the table, Alex leans down, pulling Grady up by his head and slamming him into the ring apron.)
MM: Haven now stomping away at the former champion…
VA: This is great, isn’t it Malone?
MM: That these two are trying to soften Grady up before this World Heavyweight Championship match has even started yet? They’re not even making an attempt to get into the ring to start this match!
(Haven picks Grady up and slams him down onto the ring apron, then proceeds to drop a couple of sharp elbows across the neck of Grady. Martin has the table set up now and, as Haven starts to back off, Martin runs towards Grady, putting his boot to the side of the head of Grady Smith. Haven looks at Martin, then looks at the table that’s been set up outside, then climbs up onto the ring apron next to Grady.)
MM: This is despicable, Vince! I don’t think Grady even knows where he is after those vile chair shots by his son, Martin Robertson!
(Haven pulls Grady up to a standing position and nails him with three well placed fists to the side of Grady’s head. As Malone said, Grady has this very dazed look on his face.)
MM: What’s Alex doing now? He’s got Grady up…
VA: FALL FROM GLORY!!! THROUGH THE TABLE!
MM: Good lord!
VA: DING, DONG! GRADY’S DEAD!
MM: From the ring apron, Alexander Haven just planted Grady Smith through table on the outside floor! And look at Martin, standing over his father laughing! What an awful piece of trash he is!
VA: Treason! You have no right to talk to the Kings like that!
(Alex, breathing heavy, is now back in the ring, requesting a microphone from the ringside area. Nikki passes the mic through the ropes to Alex, who has now been joined by Martin in the ring. But before Alex can say anything, Martin takes the microphone from Alex…)
Martin Robertson: Cleanup on aisle five! Box of prunes has been spilled!
(Alex snatches the microphone away from Martin, who is still laughing…)
Alexander Haven: Due to Mr. Smith no longer being able to compete tonight, the World Heavyweight Championship match between Mr. Smith and myself is being called off. If there’s anyone in the back that wants to come claim their broken old cowboy, maybe some EMT’s, perhaps… now would be the time to do it.
(Just as announced, we see a group of medical personnel starting to come onto the stage and down the entrance ramp.)
Alexander Haven: Royal guard, make way, let them through.
(The guards step aside, and the personnel rush in to look at Grady, who is slowly bleeding from his forehead and has a few swelling marks across his back from the table)
Alexander Haven: I told each and every one of you here that this is the era of the Three Kings! It’s my time! We run this business! Not some geriatric gunslinger who only existed because we allow it! Get him out of here!
(The EMT’s and other EWA staff have helped Grady get back up to his feet, but his arms are draped across the shoulders of two other people. A bandage across his forehead, the group walks back through the royal guard and starts to head up the ramp.)
MM: This is a disgrace the way they’re treating the legend!
VA: He chose to stick his nose in the business of the Three Kings, Malone!
MM: Stick his nose in? This was supposed to be his guaranteed rematch! …. What the…
(A few steps up the ramp, Grady starts to push some of the EMT’s away as he turns back around towards the ring…)
Alexander Haven: Oh, Martin, look at this. The old man still does have a little fight left in him!
(Grady gets to the royal guard, who are locked tight together shoulder to shoulder. Grady tries to push through them, but they join together even tighter. Grady looks at one, shrugs, then…)
MM: Grady just slugged the royal guard! And another! And a third! He’s trying to break through the wall!
VA: Pour the hot tar over the wall on him!
MM: Pour.. hot tar? What in the hell are you talking about?
VA: That’s what they used to do, right? To keep the infidels out?
(The EMT’s have come down to grab Grady, but he nails one with a back elbow, sending him down to the steel grate of the ramp. Forearms are flying from Grady, who has finally managed to make a hole in the royal guard wall…)
MM: Grady’s through! And he’s back in the ring with the Three Kings! But they’re stomping away on him… OH! Right by Grady sends Martin flying backwards! And a right to Haven sends him reeling! Martin! Alex! Martin! Alex! Grady’s got a new life, folks, and he’s on fire!
VA: He’s like a damn cat that won’t die!
MM: Grady whips Martin into the ropes.. HIGH back body drop! Alex now charges… he gets caught… Belly to belly suplex!
VA: Someone needs to get in there and stop him from this assault!
MM: Grady’s looking for Danny Smith, but he’s trapped outside the royal guard wall, and they’re not letting him through! Martin’s up, but Grady ducks his clothesline… GERMAN SUPLEX, ALL IMPACT! Martin rolls outside, but Alex is up now. Grady with a right, and another right… make that a third! Alex swings, but misses…
MM: Grady reaches down… he’s got Alex up for the Chokebuster… OH NO YOU DON’T!
(Just as Grady gets Alex up for the Chokebuster, he drops Alex behind him and walks over towards the ropes, stomping down…)
MM: Martin tried to get back in with the chair from earlier, but Grady’s one step ahead of him, and he’s standing on that chair as Martin looks up at him.. OH! From behind!
VA: Get him Alex!
(Alex hits Grady with a double axehandle, sending a staggered Grady towards the corner. Alex follows up with a forearm, and now the former champion is pinned back against the corner. Alex unloads with forearm shots to Grady, while Martin has begun to fill the ring with more and more chairs. Five of them to be exact. Alex whips Grady across the ring to the opposite corner where he crashes hard. Alex charges towards Grady, but Grady gets the boot up, nailing Alex in the face. Martin is in the ring and charges towards the corner, but Grady sidesteps Robertson this time, sending him crashing chest first. Martin stumbles out of the corner backwards, right towards Grady…)
MM: Martin goes up… CHOKEBU… NO! Alex with a chop block from behind! Martin looks like he landed hard!
VA: Martin’s fine. He can thank Alex later.
(Alex gingerly moves towards Grady as Martin heads back towards the chair pile in the ring. Alex grabs the same leg he just chopped Grady in, spins around with a spinning toe hold, then drops down across that same leg, trapping it between his. Grady screams in agony as Alex repeats the same maneuver. Behind him, Martin has set up the four chairs into a mini table formation before grabbing the last chair and banging it against the mat.)
MM: What do these two have planned for the legend?
VA: I don’t know, but I imagine it’ll be glorious!
MM: Alex picks up Grady, and whips him towards Martin, but Grady’s leg might be severely injured… he just crumpled to the mat!
VA: Maybe he should be filling that scotch glass with more milk. That will help prevent osteoporosis!
MM: Martin’s still waiting for that chair, but Grady, he’s almost dead weight at this point. Alex picks him up, but he can barely even get him back to a corner! Now, what’s Martin doing?
VA: I think he’s got a game plan, Malone.
MM: He might indeed, as he just handed that chair to Alex! Alex back to the corner with the chair… and he’s tearing the bandage off the forehead of Grady.
VA: OH, THE HUMANITY!
MM: Would you stop? Now… what’s this…. GOOD DEAR LORD! PURE PERFECTION BY MARTIN, THROUGH THE STEEL CHAIR, INTO THE HEAD OF GRADY!
VA: C’mon fans… THAT WAS AWE-SOME!
MM: Alex drops the chair…. No, Alex… Don’t do this! No….. NO!
VA: FALL FROM GLORY THROUGH THE STEEL CHAIR TABLE!!!
MM: This is inhuman, folks! I mean, just look at those chairs! Not a single one of them resembles anything close to a chair! They just broke that damn man in half!
VA: C’mon… Help me get this chant going with the fans… “Na na na nah… na na na nah…. Hey hey hey…”
MM: Do these two have no respect for the man? He’s got a family, damnit!
VA: Yeah, and the family is the one doing this to him!
(Alex takes the mic again, leaning in the corner…)
Alexander Haven: Medic! MEDIC! Get down here now!
(The same EMT team goes through the royal guard once again and is now in the ring with Grady…)
Alexander Haven: No, not him, you idiots… me! I think I broke my pinky, it really hurts!
MM: Oh yeah, go ahead Alex, laugh it up all you want to! You could have ended the man’s career!
VA: Duh… that’s the point, moron!
(The EMT’s have slid the plastic backboard into the ring, where another EMT has placed a collar around Grady’s neck. They’re taking every precaution to ensure they don’t do any more damage to Grady, as they’ve also gone ahead and replaced the bandage on Grady’s forehead. They slowly roll Grady over, get him on the stretcher, and start to buckle him in.)
Alexander Haven: Look at your hero, folks! Look at him! This… this right here… this is what happens when you get in the way of the Three Kings! Get him out of here! He doesn’t belong in my ring!
(While the EMT’s aren’t directly paying attention to Alex, they have gotten Grady out of the ring and down onto the rolling stretcher on the floor. Without much hesitation, they start to wheel the stretcher past the royal guard and up the entrance ramp.)
Alexander Haven: You know what does belong in my ring? My brand new championship belt! Bring the belt in here!
(The two royal guards still holding the glass case with the brand new EWA World Heavyweight Championship walk over towards the steps of the ring and climb up. Martin walks over, doing the best he can to hold the ropes open for the duo. They enter the ring and walk the glass case to the center of the ring, in front of Alex. Martin comes back over, lifting the glass case off the base as Alex reaches in and takes the belt before Martin places the glass cover back onto the base.)
Alexander Haven: This… this is exactly where it belongs! Not on the wall of some run down, second bit gym out in Buffalo. Not on the waist of Puff the Magic Dragon. And most certainly not around the waist of an old, decrepit, washed up has been who…. wha.
(Alex pulls the mic away from his face just as he was starting to say “What the f…”. The reason?)
MM: Look at this, Vince! Grady just rolled himself off the stretcher!
VA: What the hell is this crazy old man thinking?
MM: He’s thinking he’s still got some fight left in him! He’s kicking and flailing away towards the EMT’s! He’s trying to get unbuckled from the backboard!
VA: I can’t believe it… and neither can the Kingdom!
MM: Listen to these fans!
MM: He’s got those buckles undone! This is unbelievable!
VA: Yeah, unbelievable that a senile, old man won’t take the advice of the medical personnel and just go away!
MM: They’re trying to convince him to stop from heading back towards the ring, but he won’t listen!
VA: Great… now he’s beating them up! Just because he can’t beat up Alex…
MM: Grady Smith… he’s made his way back to the ring… OH!
(Just as Grady stumbled to the ring apron to climb back in, Martin, holding onto the ropes, nails Grady with a double foot kick through the ropes, sending Grady staggering back into the guard, who simply push him back towards the ring. Grady leans against the ring apron as, this time, Martin reaches down and pulls Grady up the side of the ring. He goes to suplex Grady back into the ring, but Grady blocks it. Martin tries again, and for a second time, Grady blocks the suplex. Alex is yelling towards the pair from the far side of the ring as Martin tries a third time…)
MM: Martin, suplexes Grad… no! Grady floats over…. HOLY SHIT! CHOKEBUSTER BY GRADY!
VA: And right onto that pile of steel chair remains!
MM: And Martin… OH NO! He’s not out, he’s screaming in agony! Look at his left arm!
VA: I don’t want to…
MM: There is definitely something… Oh god! I think he broke it! I’m watching the replay on the monitor, and Grady got the Chokebuster on Martin, but he barely got him up and over, and Martin paid the price for that!
VA: Martin is hurt, and look at Alex! He’s fuming!
MM: No doubt he is…. NO! OH MY GOD!
(As Alex saw the shape that Martin’s forearm is in, something snaps inside of him. And just as Grady is getting to his feet, Alex drops his new World Heavyweight Championship belt, grabs Grady by the head, and THROWS HIM into the glass case the two royal guards were holding!)
VA: Grady’s head just shattered that beautiful glass case!
MM: And look! Oh dear lord… no. This is not good…
(Grady drops down to a knee, and as he looks up, we see the effect of being slammed head first into the glass case. The case is destroyed, as the two guards have left the ring because, well, there’s nothing left to hold. But Grady’s head, now, is a bloody mess, as the original wound on his forehead was nothing compared to these new wounds, which are pouring blood out from them.)
(EMT’s have flooded the ring, but as each one tries to enter, something has snapped in Alex, and he’s shoving each one away as he looks down at Grady. Alex leans over Grady and lands punch after punch, directly on each wound, trying to open them up even more. Another EMT manages to get a piece of gauze on Grady’s primary wound on the forehead, but Alex picks him up and tosses him towards the pile of chairs. With the gauze stuck to Grady’s head, Alex picks him up, before sending him back down to the mat with a piledriver! Alex gets up and looks down at Grady, but only until Grady flinches ever so slightly. Convinced he needs to do more, Alex grabs the seat to one of the chairs from the pile from earlier, and smashes it into the forehead of Grady two, three, four, five, six more times… and the pool of blood around Grady’s head has started to expand outward from his body. The crowd and the announcers are stunned at what they just watched, as the arena has gone dead quiet, save Alex, who we continue to hear scream “STAY DOWN!” towards Grady.)
(Grady, never one to listen, though, continues to try and at least sit up. Each time he does, though, Alex smashes him with that seat to the chair. After the fourth time, though, a RUSH of additional EMT’s, as well as two sympathetic royal guards all rush into the ring at the same time. The royal guard push Alex to the far side of the ring as EMT’s are now working to stop the bleeding coming from Grady’s forehead. In a hurried pace, the EMT’s get Grady onto a second backboard and proceed to start to carry him out of the ring.)
(As the royal guard start to exit behind them, the first one gets through the ropes, but the second one is taking a little longer. And before he can get to the ropes, Alex spins the guard around and pushes them, but almost immediately, the royal guard shoves him back!)
VA: What is that guard doing? They work for the Three Kings!
MM: Maybe they’re just couldn’t take it anymore!
(Alex turns his head, smirks for a second before slapping the guard, who’s hat falls off…)
MM: OH MY GOD! LOOK!
VA: WHAT THE HELL IS CHRIS KAGE DOING THERE? HE WAS ONE OF THE ROYAL GUARD THE WHOLE TIME?
(Alex, seeing that the guard is Kage, looks as if he’s seen a ghost, and immediately starts to beg off. Kage stands there, looking directly at Alex, almost emotionless. That is, until he asks for a microphone from Nikki, who quickly obliges…)
Chris Kage: I’m not going to stand here and pretend that I’m some best friend to Grady Smith, but what you’ve done to Grady here tonight is probably just about as shitty as what you did to me at Champions Summit, Alex!
(The crowd really begins to pop… probably for the first time so far this evening. Alex, without a microphone, can be seen trying to talk to Chris, but we’re not real sure what he’s saying)
Chris Kage: This Three King power trip bullshit has really gone to your head. So yeah, you wanted to humiliate someone who’s been one of the most legendary figures in this sport, I get it… I’m not stupid. But what you’ve done here tonight is no better than any of the shit your brother-in-law Prudence has ever tried to pull as HATE!
(The crowd lets out an audible “OH!” as Alex is still trying to talk to Chris)
Chris Kage: Save your bullshit and feed it to Marty later tonight. You told these people that there was going to be a World Heavyweight Championship match tonight. And since Grady is obviously in no shape to compete…
(Kage walks up and gets nose to nose with Haven)
Chris Kage: How about you fight me instead?
(The crowd roars with approval at Kage’s request. Kage looks around at the fans on either side of him and starts to wave his arms, getting them to be even louder. That initial moment of being pissed off and shocked has turn… into a smile and a relaxed feeling over Alex? He smirks towards Kage, slowly pulling the microphone away from his former best friend.)
Alexander Haven: You think you can just pretend to be one of my royal guard, watch me beat up a senior citizen, then come in here and make demands like that? See, what’s so funny about this situation is that… Chris, nothing’s changed. Here you are, standing in front of me, asking me to give you a title match. Just… hand it over to you, just like that. Just like I did when I got you into the first ever Asylum match. Just like I did when we just haaaad to get the World Title back from Laura Seton when you couldn’t beat her the first time on YOUTHTUBE!
(The crowd boos Alex… hey, we’re pissed too that the feed got cut at the end of the event….)
Alexander Haven: And now here you are, asking me for another title shot. Well, guess what, pal? Not this time! I’m not giving you a shot for MY crown jewel! This belt has come home to where it belongs… to the Kingdom of the Three Kings! I mean, didn’t you hear the proclamation earlier? And it’s not goin…
???: YOU GOT IT!
(The camera cuts down to ringside, where we see Alyssa holding her own microphone…)
Alyssa Marie Haven: Chris Kage, you want a title match against Alexander Haven? You want him to embarrass you one more time, but this time, with the title on the line? You’ve got the match! Battlelines 30, for the EWA World Heavyweight Championship, Chris Kage will get his ass handed to him by Alexander Haven!
(Kage is ecstatic in the ring as Alex turns and looks at Alyssa, wondering what the hell she just did…)
MM: Oh my goodness! For the first time ever, we’re going to get to see Chris Kage go one on one against Alexander Haven, and it’ll be for the World Heavyweight Championship!
VA: This isn’t right! Alex didn’t agree to the match!
MM: No, but Alyssa stepped in and just overruled him! You know, she’s not half bad!
VA: No, this is very bad!
(As Alex turns back to look at Kage, Chris unloads a huge right hand on Haven! And a second! Kage has Alex against the ropes, where he whips him across the ring, but Alex holds onto the ropes….)
MM: Alex is able to stop his momentum… but here’s Martin! He swings wildly, but Kage ducks…. CRACKDOWN ON MARTIN!
VA: He’s injured! He can’t do that!
MM: He just did, and he just turned back towards Alex! And Alex is hightailing it out of the ring!
VA: That’s because he’s smart, Malone!
(Alex is quickly joined by Alyssa over by the entrance, but rather than embrace her, he simply looks at her, trying to figure out why she would make the match that he wasn’t going to make. Meanwhile, in the ring, Kage has Haven’s World Heavyweight Title belt, hoisting it into the air to the pop of the crowd as “I Will Not Bow” by Breaking Benjamin begins to play over the system loudspeakers)
MM: We’re not getting our rematch with Grady tonight, but I think we have an even more intriguing matchup set for Battlelines 30, Vince! Haven versus Kage for the title!
VA: This is bad… this is so, so, so, so, so bad…
(The camera finds us in the dressing room of the Vice Squad, where Lágrima, Minxy Jones, and Santa Muerte are putting the finishing touches on their ring gear. Jane is pulling up her kneepads, Ainsley is stretching her legs, more or less in a split with one leg on the bench, and Marisol sits in the back, a black leather vest with a hood over the top of her ring gear, and with the hood pulled over her masked eyes.)
Lágrima: Shame Sean’s not in the match… I really want to get my hands on him right now.
Minxy Jones: Yeah… you’re not in the match tonight anyway. What’s stopping you?
Santa Muerte: Don’t touch him.
(She doesn’t move, or look up, the top half of her face is still covered by the hood. Both Minxy and Lágrima look over at her. Minxy pops back up to a standing position, hands on hips.)
Santa Muerte: If anyone here is going to get their hands on him before Ryan does, it’s me. And I will fight anyone tooth and nail to make sure of it.
Lágrima: Well, aren’t you a little grumpy gus? Seriously, why–
(Santa Muerte lifts her head, and we see her eyes: bloodshot, angry, the sockets of her skull mask blacked out. Her face, even through the normally angry-looking mask, is a picture of rage and hatred.)
Minxy Jones: Let it go, Janey. She needs to work through this. We’ve got–
Cronos Diamante: Company. You do.
(Cronos flips his business card into the dressing room with his trademark smirk on his face. All eyes are on Cronos but none of them have moved.)
Cronos Diamante: Glad I have your undivided attention. You see… I figured I’d have a meet and greet with all the big players here in EWA and introduce myself. More than I already have that is. I’m the gun for hire. If you want to make use of my services for say revenge or vengeance for that matter you have my card.
Lágrima: Vengeance? Thanks, I think we got a handle on that. Why don’t you–
Minxy Jones: Thanks for the heads-up, Cronos. We’ll keep that in mind.
(Cronos nods and simply leaves the area, leaving the group alone once more.)
Lágrima: Minxy, why–
Minxy Jones: Let it go. We have enough trouble… last thing we need is someone like him against us.
(They don’t notice the door opening a crack as they speak, but both Jane and Ainsley see the small smoke grenade roll between their feet. They start coughing as it pours out, the smoke quickly filling the room. Santa Muerte jumps to her feet, covering her face, but it doesn’t do much good as she starts to cough as well. A loud thump resonates in the room as if someone’s head was bashed into a locker door in the far corner away from Santa Muerte. The door opens up wide and Lágrima is sent flying outside the locker room, knocked out cold. Cronos’ voice muffled by a gas mask follows quickly after Lágrima falls.)
Cronos Diamante: Manners go a long way ladies. Regardless, this is just business. Remember that when it’s over.
(Santa Muerte takes a wild swing in the direction of Cronos’ voice, trying desperately to hit something but misses and soon finds herself picked up and thrown into the half-open door that results in it slamming shut again. As she attempts to get up from the ground, still unable to see anything too far away she is met with a kick to the side of the head that blurs her vision. Minxy manages to jump on Cronos’ back and rip the gas mask off his head but Cronos uses the momentum to spin around and rip the mask from her hands then bring it harshly to the side of her head and sharply onto her ear knocking her off balance. Approximately thirty seconds pass and Cronos opens the door after laying the boots to both women, decidedly more to Santa Muerte. As the smoke clears, Cronos notices Minxy is the only one still conscious.)
Cronos Diamante: Just business, Minxy. It works both ways. You have my card if you want revenge.
(He disappears as quickly as he appeared, leaving the trio on the floor. We survey the wreckage for a few seconds before Hueso hobbles into frame on his cane.)
Hueso: Jesus, what the fuck happened?!
(He runs to the girls in turn, Ainsley speaking through coughs.)
Minxy Jones: Cronos… hired to *cough*… Probably Boden or *cough* Mephisto.
(She devolves into a coughing fit as Hueso tries to get medical attention for them.)
MM: Absolutely despicable! Cronos is a monster!
VA: It was just business, Malone! They could always hire him themselves!
MM: I can’t believe you’re justifying that!
VA: Hey, a guy like Cronos has a lot of honor, in that he always honors his contracts!
MM: We’re about to go to our first official match of the evening, but I’m being told our cameras are catching something else – let’s take you back!
(Our camera quickly cuts backstage to just outside the office of Alexander Haven, EWA World Heavyweight Champion and owner of the EWA. Surprisingly, he’s in the middle of an animated discussion with his wife, Chief Operating Officer Alyssa Marie Haven.)
Alexander Haven: –are you thinking, Alyssa? We talked about this. Chris Kage doesn’t deserve a shot at this. I’m sick and tired of carrying his ass. I’ve done it for twenty years, and now he wants to continue to try to make a name off of me? Fuck that. It’s not happening. You need to call of–
(Alyssa interrupts, screaming at her husband.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: Shut the fuck up! Just…shut the fuck up, and stop being such a goddamn pussy!
(Haven visibly recoils at Alyssa’s harsh words, clearly surprised by the Queen Bitch’s attitude toward him.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: Stop acting like you’re afraid of Chris Kage.
(The World Heavyweight Champion rolls his eyes, annoyed at the implication.)
Alexander Haven: I’m not afra–
Alyssa Marie Haven: Then start. Proving. It. Alex, you say you’re the rightful EWA World Heavyweight Champion, right? Then prove it. Chris Kage is beneath you, yes, but this is your opportunity, once and for all, to end that little worm’s existence. Snuff him out, once and for all. It’s not a matter of whether or not you can do it. I know you can, you know you can, the entire world knows you can. You’ve always been a level above Chris. It’s just time to prove it. It’s time to end this.
(She moves in closer, slipping an arm around her husband’s waist as she looks up at him.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: What you did out there to Grady Smith…it was beautiful. A masterpiece that Picasso himself would be jealous of. You even accomplished all of that without that limp-dick Draven to help you.
Alexander Haven: Michael’s–
Alyssa Marie Haven: Shhh. I don’t care. This isn’t about Michael. This isn’t about Martin. This is about you. You are the one true king of this industry.
(She traces a finger slowly down his chest.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: You are my king, Alexander Haven. And sometimes, the king has to make the tough decision to put a peasant out of his misery.
(She smiles up at him, an evil, malevolent grin.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: Put Chris Kage out of his misery.
(Haven looks down at her, nodding.)
Alexander Haven: You’re right. At Battlelines 30, we end this, once and for all. I love you, Alyssa.
(Her grin spreads wider.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: I know.
(Fade to ringside.)
NIKKI CALDWELL VS TANYA BLACK
DING DING DING!!
THE FIGHT STARTS NOW
NR: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Albuquerque, New Mexico…TANYA…BLACK!!
As Fozzy’s “Lights Go Out” continues to echo through the Combat Zone, Tanya Black appears at the top of the ramp, blowing kisses to the crowd as she heads down the aisle toward the ring.
MM: Tanya Black coming off a huge victory over Hank, who has since been hospitalized thanks to a mysterious attack on the streets of Boston, Vince.
VA: I’d like to say that’s unfortunate, but quite frankly, that man terrifies me, Malone. I feel like we have a much safer working environment without him around.
MM: I…can’t say I disagree?
As Tanya enters the ring, the lights return to normal and the music quickly transitions into Sumo Cyco’s “Fighter”, as the Combat Zone is quickly lit with a variety of multicolored lights.
NR: And her opponent, from Los Angeles, California…NIKKI…CALDWELL!
MM: The rookie, Nikki Caldwell, sprints to the ring, and Vince, this young woman has energy for days. She split her first two matches with the enigmatic Rachel Ellsworth, and tonight she moves on to a veteran of the squared circle, Tanya Black.
VA: Malone, I’m actually looking forward to this match, and not even because of the treats my eyes get to indulge with. These are two quick, athletic women, and this should be a highly competitive bout.
MM: Did…you just give actual analysis?!
VA: Plus Nikki Caldwell has a great rack.
MM: Annnnnd we’re back.
This was an extremely well-fought, competitive match from the beginning, with neither woman giving up any ground. Tanya took an early advantage due to a miscue from Caldwell on a dropkick, but the rookie was quickly able to fight her way back into the match with an impressive counter to a powerbomb attempt from Tanya. The two would continue to go back and forth with an array of athletic, crowd-pleasing manuevers, each one bringing the crowd to their feet in appreciation of the abilities of the two female warriors. Caldwell at one point would go for her finishing manuever, I of the Storm, but Tanya was able to counter with a series of elbows to Nikki’s stomach…
MM: And now Nikki Caldwell is in trouble, as Tanya Black sends her shooting into the ropes, and floors her with a huge lariat!
VA: She nearly took the rookie’s head off there, Malone!
MM: As Nikki gets to her feet, Tanya hits the ropes, springboarding off for her Divine Kiss…but Caldwell ducks out of the way! Nikki spins around…waistlock…and she rushes the ropes with an O’Connor Roll! And Kazuya Ito is in position for the count!
NR: Here is your winner…NIKKI…CALDWELL!!
Caldwell gets to her feet, pumping a fist in victory, but is quickly spun around by Tanya Black, who stares into the rookie’s eyes, smiling. Tanya extends a hand, and after a brief hesitation, Nikki takes it, shaking the woman’s hand before Tanya pulls her in for an embrace. Tanya then lifts the rookie’s hand in victory, pointing at her before gracefully ducking out of the ring.
MM: Tanya Black acknowledging that on this night, the rookie squeaked out a victory with a great counter. What a great display of sportsmanship!
VA: (retching sounds)
MM: (sighs) Let’s go backstage!
YOUR WINNER BY PINFALL: NIKKI CALDWELL (9:22)
(The camera fades backstage, where we show Allison Haines, clearly tired and haggard from having to do the work of two professionals after the suspension of Terry Bull, walking rapidly down a hallway toward a nondescript locker room door, void of any signs – but with two police officers posted outside of it. She takes a moment, inhaling deeply and straightening out her blouse, before approaching the officers.)
Allison Haines: Good evening, officers. I’m Allison Haines…I’m a journalist with the EWA. I was told to come down here to get a word with M–
(One of the officers steps forward, shaking his head.)
Officer #1: Sorry, ma’am, but I’m going to have to stop you there. We’re not permitting anyone to walk through that door, for any reason at all.
Allison Haines: …but you were posted here by the EWA. By the company I work for. Am I wrong?
Officer #2: Ma’am, as he said, we’re not allowed to let anyone inside these doors. Those are the orders we were given.
Allison Haines: Given by whom? Alexander Haven? Alyssa Marie Haven? Two people who hate the very person you’re protecting? Why are you–
(The second officer now steps forward, moving his hand slowly to his belt.)
Officer #2: Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you and your cameraman to leave this area immediately.
Allison Haines: Are you kidding me?
(Allison sighs loudly, and starts to turn, but before she can, the locker room door opens, and Michael Draven’s head peeks out from the crack in the door.)
Allison Haines: Is she in there, Michael?
(Draven’s head disappears for a moment, as if he’s looking back into the room, and then reappears, speaking to the officers.)
Michael Draven: You can let her through, officers.
(The officers step aside, and a frazzled Allison Haines shoots them both a glare before heading toward the door, the camera following. As we step through the locker room door, we spot Maggie McIntyre, sitting on a bench, pulling her kneepad up over her right knee. The Banshee looks antsy, ready to get back into the ring. Allison immediately rushes over.)
Allison Haines: Maggie, what do you have to say about the events of Live From London? Have you officially left HATE? Have —
Michael Draven: She’s not going to —
Maggie McIntyre: No, Mike. It’s okay, I…I can talk about it.
(Maggie stands up, reaching for Michael’s hand and taking it in her own as she looks at Allison.)
Maggie McIntyre: I’m here tonight to go out and wrestle Rachel Ellsworth, from what I’ve seen…she’s going to be one hell of a challenge. Mike’s going to be at ringside with me because that’ll make me happy. That’s the only things I really have to say, Allison, I’m sorry.
Allison Haines: But Maggie…you clearly expect HATE to strike back at you for what happened at London, right? That’s the reason the officers are posted outside your door here tonight, is it not?
Michael Draven: Those officers are there for Maggie’s safety. If HATE has a problem with Maggie making her own choices, they can address that with me, and that includes Indrid Calder. He’ll have his opportunity tonight, and honestly, I’m looking forward to it.
(Maggie shoots a nervous look up at Draven, but says nothing.)
Allison Haines: Good luck tonight in your matches, and stay safe. Mike, Vincent, back to you at ringside.
(Fade to ringside.)
VA: Malone, when Indrid Calder and HATE are done with Maggie, she’s going to look worse than Sahara did after Grace cast her out of heaven! I can’t wait!
MM: That’s a disgusting comparison to make. What’s wrong with you?
VA: What’s wrong with me? You should be asking what’s wrong with Sahara. I heard from a very reliable source that her face is so badly damaged, her own mother wouldn’t recognize her! I also heard that last night, she went out to get a bite to eat, and animal control was called to come take the stray back to the zoo! Hahahaha!
(Vincent Ashe cackles with glee, as Mike Malone shakes his head in disgust.)
MM: Folks, let’s head backstage once again!
(The scene fades into the office of Alyssa Marie Haven. Alyssa is on the phone and, while her tone of voice is an attempt at pleasant, she is clearly frustrated.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: Yes, Jerry, I understand that the logo of Five Guys being on the same show as a woman being forced to ‘deep-throat’-
(Haven uses air fingers with her free hand.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: -a microphone could, technically, from an outsider’s perspective, appear troublesome for your fine company and its fine food, but I assure you, the average EWA viewer wouldn’t look at it like that.
(Haven listens to the phone for a moment, rolling her eyes.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: Okay, sure, the average wrestling fan might find it strange, but remember, there are plenty of warnings up front about the nature of EWA programming. I assure you, there will be no negative backlash in the press about this.
(As Alyssa tries to put this fire out, Ethan Leers walks into the office. He sees this phone conversation and smiles menacingly.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: Jerry, come on, I assure you, there was nothing sexual in nature about the action. Grace Goeren was simply being her normal, violent self to Sahara, and the fans love it because they hate Sahara. It wasn’t sexual at all-
Ethan Leers: OH YES! DEEP-THROAT MY COCK! YES! LUBE IT WITH THE GREASE FROM THE FIVE GUYS FRIES! OH FUCK YES, THE FUCKING PEANUT OIL IS SO FUCKING GOOD ON MY FUCKING COCK!
(Alyssa looks enraged and terrified all at the same time.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: Jerry, I’m sorry, emergency here, I’m going to have to call you back.
(Alyssa slams the phone down.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: You have THREE fucking seconds to get the fuck out of here, you needledicked piece of shit!
Ethan Leers: Make my handicap match tonight a hardcore match and I am fucking gone, boss lady.
Alyssa Marie Haven: Who the fuck are you again? Oh, wait…you’re that fucking Leers kid. What was your name again? Eric? Evan? Fired Piece of Shit?
Ethan Leers: Fire me if you fucking want, but make my fucking match hardcore tonight.
Alyssa Marie Haven: You’re already being punished for throwing your match away at Live from London, you idiot. I mean, on a fucking Pay Per View, in what should have been a fucking SQUASH, you just give yourself a DQ? Yeah, I’m not giving you shit. I hope that Joe Lemon and Serpant Man find a mean streak in them and break your fucking legs.
(Ethan quirks an eyebrow.)
Ethan Leers: Punished, huh?
(Ethan turns around suddenly, drops his pants, and starts SLAPPING himself on his bare ass.)
Ethan Leers: Oh fuck yeah Mommy Haven! Fucking punish me! I’m so fucking bad mommy! PUNISH ME SO BAD!
(Alyssa looks on, repulsed and a bit horrified, as Ethan’s ass gets redder and redder from the spanking he is giving himself. Ethan suddenly takes both fingers and places them in his mouth, simulating felatio and gagging a bit on his fingers.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: GET THE FU-
Ethan Leers: Oh yeah, mommy Haven, punish me REAL FUCKING GOOD! STRETCH MY FUCKING ASSHOLE FOR PUNISHMENT!
(Leers starts bringing his fingers up to his butt and begins to move them between the cheeks.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: OH MY FUCKING GOD! FINE, FINE, FINE! Your match is now no disqualification! Just…fucking GOD! GET THE FUCK OUT! FUCK! You weird, stupid motherfucker!
(Leers stands up straight, lifting his pants up and turning around. He winks at Alyssa.)
Ethan Leers: Thanks boss lady!
(With a tip of his “CUNT” hat, Ethan turns around and exits the office.)
Alyssa Marie Haven: Who the fuck hired that guy?
(Fade to ringside.)
RAY WILLMOTT & LAURA SETON VS JOSH KAINE & MOJAVE
NR: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is a non-title tag-team match!
VA: Shouldn’t they have to defend their titles?
MM: Not until a true number one contender is established, Vincent, you know how it works.
NR: Introducing first, at a combined weight of 375 pounds, the team of Laura Seton and Ray Willmott!
The crowd cheers the fan favorites as Gunboat by Vixtrola begins to play as pink and purple lights pulsate over the entrance ramp. Laura Seton and Ray Willmott step out onto the stage and the cheers simply get louder.
VA: So we’re coming out to her music, eh? I guess we know who wears the pants–
MM: There’s nothing wrong with showing a unified front. Ray Willmott cares about things other than his entrance…such as winning, and making a name for themselves.
VA: Whatever you say…
The tandem of Willmott and Seton nod at each other as they both head toward the ring, slapping hands with fans on opposite sides of the aisle on their way to the ring. Both pick up speed and slide through the bottom rope, approaching opposing turnbuckles and climbing up, holding their arms up to the crowd.
MM: Two former heavyweight champions make for a formidable team, Ashe…no matter whose music they come out too.
As the music begins to die down, Ray Willmott asks for the microphone, and Nikki happily hands it over.
Ray Willmott: Thanks so much, guys. I really appreciate it even if I’m not sure I fully deserve it.
(Willmott pauses for a moment, licks his lips, then looks dead centre at the camera.)
Ray Willmott: I’ll cut to the chase and address the elephant in the arena. From me to you, the EWA Community, from the bottom of my heart, I’m so sorry I couldn’t get the job in London. There are no excuses. I went in there 100% ready, as prepared as I’ve ever been. Fuck, I was in the best shape of my life…
(Willmott’s eyes do not move from the camera. He does not waver or flinch.)
Ray Willmott: But Grady Smith was the better man and deserved to walk out of London with the EWA World Heavyweight Championship.
(Loud round of applause. A ‘Grady’ chant even breaks out which Willmott encourages with a smile. As the appreciation starts to die down, however, Willmott’s expression turns dark.)
Ray Willmott: But that didn’t fucking happen, did it, Alexander Haven?
Ray Willmott: London was the biggest and best event in EWA history. Critics, pundits, fans, EVERYONE in the back agrees that we knocked it out of the park. There was something for everyone and every member of this roster gave EVERYTHING to make sure we left a lasting impression the other side of the pond.
We all hit the streets hard, I took on more than my fair share of promotional duties to get butts on seats. And when it came to the crunch, we damn sure tore the roof off to make sure they stayed in them. London LOVED us. Under your watch, the EWA had its best ever show…
(The crowd agree and show their appreciation to the roster for an incredible show in London. Willmott nods, but is quick to get back to his point.)
Ray Willmott: Which makes it all the more confusing why you decided to fuck yourself and this company in the ass?!
(A LOUD roar.)
Ray Willmott: Why you sabotaged an industry defining event and sent it swirling down the toilet.
See, after all the effort your fucking roster put in, you SHIT on EVERY SINGLE LAST ONE OF THEIR EFFORTS. You belittled the efforts of Laura Seton, the amazing efforts of our opponents tonight, the new EWA World Tag Team Champions.
And worst of all, you shit on a 43 year old man’s heart and soul and right in my fucking face…
(The crowd is fired up from Willmott’s attack on Alexander Haven.)
Ray Willmott: How dare you, Alex! We gave it everything out there. We did it all. We more than lived up to the billing of a dream match. Hell, people are calling us an early match of the year contender.
And I get it, I lost cleanly and fairly to the better man. A man I admire. A man who deserved RESPECT.
(Willmott swallows deeply, his face beetroot red.)
Ray Willmott: And as much as it pains me to say this, right now, this can’t be my fight. I’ve been beaten twice in high profile situations and have been pushed right to the back of the line. As it should be. In The Asylum and in London I had my chances and I didn’t take them. So, for now, my immediate pursuit of the EWA World Heavyweight Championship…is over.
(Some cheers actually make their way into this as the crowd are eager to see new faces compete for the title, but mostly boos.)
Ray Willmott: But make no mistake about it, Alexander. Somewhere down the road, sometime in the future, you and I are going to resume the conversation we started in London!
(Another LOUD roar and a ‘Yes’ Chant!)
Ray Willmott: For what you did to Grady Smith, both in London and earlier tonight … for what you did to me….that goes beyond the EWA World Heavyweight Championship. A title that may not belong to me. But DAMN SURE…does not belong to YOU!
So as long as you pretend to be champion, I will find a way to get you back in my crosshairs. I will find a way to take the title away from 3K, whether it ends up around my waist ….
(Willmott looks over at Laura Seton with a smirk.)
Ray Willmott: … or the waist of someone else. For now – and I never thought I’d agree with Grace Goeren on anything – as long as it’s in your hands, Alexander, and not returned to the rightful champion, Grady Smith, I no longer recognise the World Heavyweight Championship as the premier title in the EWA.
Ray Willmott: Believe me, I’m not alone.
We never concluded our business, Alex. We never resolved our differences. But what you did in London was reprehensible and unforgivable. So, when the time is right…when you least expect it…I’m going to be back in your face again. And this time, there won’t be anyone to stop me from putting my fist right through it!
(The Willmott chant is deafening! Ray Willmott is shooting on the EWA right now and this crowd is loving it.)
Ray Willmott: BUT …. but that’s not tonight. Tonight, my priorities shift. Tonight I switch gears. Tonight, Laura Seton and I prove to the world that we are on the same page, that we’re as good together as we’ve ever been. Tonight we set ourselves on the path to becoming the EWA World Tag Team Champions and tearing this division WIDE OPEN.
(A loud roar!)
Ray Willmott: Tonight, we’re going to EARN our way to a championship opportunity the old fashioned way. The traditional way.
THE RIGHT WAY.
We’ve both had incredible careers, we’ve been in and out of each others’ lives for years, but this is something we’ve never done. Something we’ve always wanted to do.
So, Josh Kaine / Mojave, congratulations on winning the Tag Team Championship. You both had one incredible night.
Now come out here and let us introduce you to the division proper!
Mic back in hand, Nikki Rogers prepares to announce the champions..
NR: And introducing the NEW EWA World Tag-Team champions…weighing in at a combined 390 pounds, MoJoooooo!
The crowd pops big for the newly crowned tag-team champions as hits the speakers and prismatic lights shine like a halo around the outer perimeter of the arena. Jumping out onto the stage, Joshua Kaine and Mojave, wearing the EWA tag titles around their waists run to opposite ends of the stage pointing out toward the audience.
MM: A surprise team that come from relative obscurity to win the coveted EWA tag titles at Live from London, Kaine and Mojave both come from incredible pedigree and the amazing thing is they’re just getting started.
VA: And they both have something in common beyond that, Malone!
VA: Yeah, Kaine slept with the EWA’s resident whore, and the other one is her little brother. Ya know, I sometimes wonder if there’s a test for Sahara Transmitted Diseases–
MM: Oh would you stop?!
VA: I bet they’d both test positive for it. I heard Grace, hallowed by thy name, had to bathe in penicillin after she got Sahara’s blood on her at Live from London.
MM: You know, up until Live from London you wouldn’t stop telling us how great and amazing Sahara was, and now she’s a sexually transmitted disease–
VA: So you agree?
Approaching ringside, Mojave and Kaine unstrap the tag titles and climb the staircase. From the outside on the ring apron, both step up onto the second turnbuckle across from each other, holding up the tag straps with one hand while pointing at each other with the other.
MM: While this may be a non-title match, I assure you the team of Willmott and Seton are here to make a statement…two of the very best, and possibly closest couples in the EWA find themselves together, staring across at the reigning tag-team champions…
VA: Nice segue from the whore.
MM: Could you do your job for once? Not everything is about Grace and the people she’s destroyed along the way, Vincent. This is about the EWA tag-team titles…and MoJo have promised they’re about to become a big damn deal around here again.
While together for a very short period, it was obvious MoJo had been practicing hard to become a formidable team. They utilized a number of double team maneuvers to keep Laura Seton grounded and in proximity of their own corner. While Seton fought hard, two on one is never an equal proposition.
Eventually fighting her way out of the corner, Seton seized on an obvious timing miscue between the MoJo tandem which caused a hard collision and she quickly capitalized, knocking Kaine off the ring apron. A dazed Mojave stumbled out of his corner and Seton connected with a perfectly timed Thesz Press bringing the decidedly split crowd to its feet. A hot tag to the former Heavyweight Champion, Ray Willmott, then shook the rafters. Coming in like a wrecking machine, Willmott hit a quick succession of moves and cleared the ring of Mojave, who smartly stayed on the outside with his partner Kaine, allowing Willmott’s initial burst of adrenaline to fade.
While announcer Mike Malone was impressed by the patience and ability to work together shown by MoJo, Vincent Ashe wasn’t quite as supportive. Then again, he wasn’t very supportive of either team involved. Ashe was sure to point out a number of missteps the younger team took throughout the match, often referring to them as rusty. Malone was quick to point out that neither team was showing rust, but simple timing errors that can be correctly only by time together and real-world practice.
As the match waned on, it became more and more obvious that Willmott and Seton just weren’t used to wrestling on a team basis. They’d often stay in the ring too long because of years of being on their own in the ring. Fighting solo was almost second nature to both.
At one point during the action, what looked like a brief argument may have broken out between the ‘we’ll-pick-a-date-when-we-pick-a-date’ tandem which gave MoJo the opening they needed. Hitting Laura Seton with his patented springboard clothesline called the Sandstorm, Mojave was quick to move, Kaine grabbed the reeling Seton and planted her with his Berserker Slam. While the champions emerged victorious via pinfall, the miscommunication between Seton and Willmott nearly boiled over, but cooler heads prevailed.
MM: I’m not sure anyone hates losing as much as Laura Seton, but it’s obvious there was a communication issue during this fight. I’m not sure either Laura or Ray are used to following anyone else’s lead, and that’s almost a requirement to flourish as a tag-team.
VA: As much as Kaine and the whore’s little brother annoy me, it was obvious they were on the same page throughout, even if their timing was a bit off.
MM: I can’t help but wonder if this ongoing Dube saga has become something of a sticking point between Laura and Ray.
YOUR WINNERS BY PINFALL: MOJO (11:54)
(We cut to the backstage corridors of the Combat Zone and find ourselves following The Purveyor himself, NOTHING. He walks alone through a hallway before turning toward a door and coming to a stop. Moving behind him, we see the name “ALEXANDER HAVEN” affixed to the door in gold lettering. Pru, taking a moment to contemplate, inhales deeply before gripping the door handle and entering the room as he exhales. Alexander Haven himself is standing in the room talking on his cell phone and is caught off guard by the intrusion. He moves the phone down to his side before speaking.)
Alexander Haven: What is it with people in this business? You become a professional wrestler and suddenly forget how to knock on a door? (He lifts the phone back up) Hey, let me call you back. An… old friend just walked in and I have a feeling I’m going to have to deal with some level of bullshit. (He hangs up the call and deposits the phone in his pocket.) So? Something I can do for you, oh-sweet-brother-in-law?
NOTHING: You’re obviously not blind to what’s happening around here lately with myself, Mephisto, and his band of goons at every turn. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were encouraging it.
Alexander Haven: Please… I’ve got enough on my plate without having to worry about handing HATE their asses again.
(NOTHING smirks and shakes his head before continuing.)
NOTHING: Sure, of course – you’re a busy guy. Nevermind the fact that you know precisely how violent and devastating my Pillars can be when properly motivated.
(Haven steps forward, almost taking Pru’s comments as a threat. The Purveyor puts his hands up to his chest to let Haven he’s not here to fight.)
NOTHING: Don’t get too excited, Alex. I’m not here to fight you or your Kings or get involved with whatever schemes you want to force yourself into. I’m here… to ask for a favor.
(Haven smirks… and his smirk grows into a smile as he steps back. He rubs his hand along his jaw as his smile widens, his eyes focused on the ground. He lets out a chuckle before looking back up at NOTHING.)
Alexander Haven: A favor? You want me to do you a favor? After what you’ve done to me and my family, you should consider it a favor that I even let you exist in the EWA. You should consider it a favor that 3K hasn’t already drawn and quartered your ass–
NOTHING: Yes, yes, yes — I’m ever so grateful to the almighty Alexander Haven and his ever-changing family for not, what? Ripping my head off and shitting down my throat? Alex, if you’re still holding this much resentment and hostility toward me, then this favor is going to be right up your alley. I saw what you did to Grady Smith earlier. It seems like you’ve suddenly realized that you’re not the only member of the old guard in the EWA and, I guess, you want to destroy those who came before you and those who you grew up with in this business? And that’s fine, I get it – you need a little ego boost after everything you’ve gone through since The Youth crumbled and you lost your best friend.
But what I want, Alex, is a chance to make your wildest dreams come true. A chance to see another one of the old guard beaten down and destroyed just the way you like it.
I want one more match with Mephisto, Alex. But not just any match. Something to truly put an end to this holy war between Pariah and HATE. A way to prolong the agony for as long as possible, Alex.
I want Mephisto, and I want him at Champions Summit… and I want him in a Three Stages of HATE match.
Best two out of three falls, Alex. I pick any stipulation I want… Mephisto reaches into the dark recesses of his mind and picks whatever stipulation he wants… and if it happens to go to a third fall? Well, that’s where you come in.
If you really want to see some primal human devastation, Alex? I’ll let you pick the third fall. Anything you want. You make the call.
(Haven’s eyes light up briefly at the sound of NOTHING’s final sentences. He stares his brother in law square in the eyes and a smile slowly begins to grow across his face.)
Alexander Haven: If that’s what you really want, Pru… you’ve got it. And I’ll be counting down the days until I can finally watch someone snuff your ass out for good. But, in the meantime? You interrupted a very interesting phone call when you barged in here – so why don’t you see yourself out, and I’ll work on drawing up the contracts for Champions Summit.
(NOTHING flashes a smile back at Haven and gives him a friendly-but-not-really-friendly slap on the arm before turning and leaving the office. Alex looks down with a scowl at the spot on his arm where he was slapped before reaching back into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone. As he begins dialing we cut back to ringside.)
THE LEMONHEADS VS ETHAN LEERS
NR: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is a no-disqualification, handicap match! Introducing first…the team of Serpent Man and Joe Lemon….THE LEMONHEADS!
When life gives you lemons
It’s gonna be okay
Don’t worry little children
And don’t complain (woh)
The lights dim to a yellow-lemon flavored hue as ‘Lemonade’ by Alex Boye starts over the speakers! JOE LEMON runs out with the less than enthused Serpent Man following him shortly after. Lemon wears a ridiculous looking baseball cap with a fuzzy lemon attached to the bill. Lemon takes a moment to hug one of his legions of female Lemonheads who idolize the ground he walks on and want to make many lemonbabies with him before joining his tag team partner in the ring to prepare for their opponent.
Remember you’re golden
So find some sugar cane
When life gives you lemons
NR: And their opponent, from Columbus, Ohio…ETHAN LEEERS!
MM: This next one is a piece of work!
VA: I’ve only seen good things!
MM: We haven’t seen anything yet!
As the ripping guitar riff of “Fuck Everything” by Suicide Silence kicks in, Ethan Leers emerges from the back wearing black cargo shorts, black wrestling boots, a black jersey that says “FUCK YOU” in big white letters, and a black hat that says “CUNT” in big white letters. He looks at the crowd, utter disgust on his face, and he spits at the ground. As the crowd boos at his disgust at them, he walks to the ring, with a kendo stick in one hand and a chair in the other.
If you hate the world around you.
And you hate everything that you see.
And if what you see makes you happy,
Then fuck off cause we’re all out of time.
So follow me!
As Ethan reaches the ring, he jogs up the steps very quickly and throws the chair in the ring, narrowly avoiding hitting Serpent Man!
Life is short, I’ll make it what it’s worth.
With time well spent, time spent so well.
So don’t run away, just face the new day,
Without a single fear in mind.
Just take it one day at a time!
And…Fuck everything! Everything!
Fuck everything! Everything!
He quickly turns around and steps in between the top and middle rope. He takes off his jersey and hat, throws them to the outside of the ring, but definitely avoids throwing them far enough for fans to get. He stretches in the corner, a shit-eating grin on his face, loving every moment of the boos and jeers.
MM: Oh he seems…pleasant.
VA: I think he’s my long lost brother!
As Vince Ashe bounces with excitement in his seat, Referee David Tucker calls for the bell.
With the Lemonheads deciding on Serpent Man to start them off, Joe Lemon heads back to their corner to await the match…and there is no disappointment from Ethan Leers!
The EWA newcomer rushes forward with that kendo stick, landing one good shot to Serpent Man’s shoulder and another one to his neck before it breaks!
MM: We all watched Leers earlier when he demanded the match stipulation change from Alyssa Marie…but he just took down Serpent Man with two hits!
VA: Two glorious blows!
Serpent Man goes down hard to the mat, having been knocked off balance by the force of the blows, holding his shoulder in pain. Leers just laughs before glaring at his now broken kendo stick. He throws it to the side, picking up the aforementioned chair he tossed in earlier. Joe Lemon stands in his corner, cheering his tag partner to get on his feet and keep fighting.
VA: Leers looks like he’s planning something evil!
MM: I think you’re right!
It isn’t a moment later that their fears are confirmed and Leers brings that chair down on Serpent Man’s back as the Lemonhead struggles to his feet. He’s immediately knocked down to the mat before Ethan brings it down again…and again!
VA: Ooooh, this is going to get really ugly. I can feel it!
MM: Serpent Man is definitely feeling those strikes!
There is no stopping Leers in this no-disqualification match from bringing that steel chair down on Serpent Man’s head again and again and again! Finally, he throws down the chair and laughs heartily as the crowd jeers him. From the corner, Joe Lemon steps through the ropes knowing that this has gone on long enough…with Leers’ back to him, he quietly picks up the chair…to the roar of the crowd before he swings!
MM: Joe Lemon’s got the chair now! We’ve never seen him use a weapon!!
VA: Leers is gonna kill him!
His opponent is suddenly alerted by the roar of approval from the crowd and as he turns, the chair connects with his forehead! Leers is knocked back against the ropes and Lemon moves to see to his now unconscious tag partner and drops the chair.
VA: Leers is bleeding!
MM: That’s not exactly a geiser. It looks like a big papercut!
VA: Who cares, he’s seeing red now!!
Leers snarls, feeling the short open cut on his forehead and the moment he sees blood…he unleashes a beast. The newcomer rushes for the dropped chair, wasting no time in picking it up and bringing it down hard on Joe Lemon’s head and shoulders! Barely three hard whacks with the chair and our favorite Lemonhead is out like a light next to his tag partner. Leers is seething when he drops to his knees and hooks Serpent Man’s leg when David Tucker goes for the count.
The bell rings and Nikki Rogers picks up her microphone, Tucker goes to lift Leers’ hand in the air in apparent victory.
NR: Here is your winner…ETHAN LEERS!!
MM: He just decimated the Lemonheads!
VA: I like this new guy!
YOUR WINNER BY PINFALL: ETHAN LEERS (0:51)
(Ethan pulls his hand away from David Tucker violently. He seems to not want any part of being declared the victor. Ethan looks at the two Lemonheads with disgust, wiping a small amount of blood away from his forehead. As he looks down at the blood on his hands he screams “THAT’S FUCKING IT” at the two downed men. The crowd openly boos Ethan, but he doesn’t seem to care. He exits the ring and starts yelling for a microphone.)
MM: Ethan apparently wants to express his disgust at what has happened in this ring while the audience expresses their disgust at him.
(Ethan snatches a microphone from the bell area and slides back into the ring. He kicks a downed Joe Lemon in the ribs, inciting boos from the crowd!)
Ethan Leers: SHUT THE FUCK UP!
(The crowd boos even louder!)
Ethan Leers: None of you stupid fucks gives a shit about the fucking LEMONHEADS! They’re fucking JOBBERS! And don’t you DARE fucking cheer, you fucking marks! Just because I use the terminology does not mean I want to be a fucking wrestling nerd like you pricks!
(The crowd’s boos turn more riotous. Ethan half grins and half glares at them.)
Ethan Leers: I’ve wrestled all over the fucking WORLD doing death match shit! I’ve done razor cross death matches, no rope barbed wire death matches, salt and lemon death matches, and, for FUCK’S SAKE, I’ve been hit in the face with a fucking CACTUS WRAPPED IN GODDAMN BARBED WIRE!
(The crowd doesn’t seem to care about Ethan’s exploits. They boo, and a few plastic bottles and cups start flying into the ring.)
MM: The crowd definitely not in the mood to hear Ethan Leers whine about not getting injured enough.
Ethan Leers: I know these fucking losers are jobbers, but I figured TWO FUCKING GUYS WHO ARE FUCKING BIGGER THAN ME could fuck me up, EVEN A FUCKING LITTLE, if the match had no rules, but fucking CLEARLY I can’t expect anyone around here to be worth a fucking DAMN! I mean…FUCK! YOU GUYS ARE SUCH FUCKING PUSSIES!
(Ethan, in frustration, slams the microphone into his head three times. This opens a small cut in his head that drops a little bit of blood down his head. Ethan goes to speak more, but his actions have broken the microphone. He THROWS the microphone at the announcer table, thankfully only hitting the table and not a person. He then exits the ring in a huff and storms off backstage, screaming profanity at the booing crowd the entire time.)
MM: Can we go backstage or something? Yeah, let’s do that.
(We fade backstage to the office area at the Combat Zone, where we see the owner and Chief Executive Officer of the EWA, Alexander Haven. Haven appears to have calmed down considerably from his argument with his wife earlier in the night, and is now sporting a business suit, adjusting the sleeves on his jacket as we speak. He looks up as someone enters the room, and smirks.)
Alexander Haven: You’re late to the party.
(Stepping into the frame is none other than his fellow 3K member, Michael Draven. Draven chuckles, regarding his former long-time adversary with a look of acknowledgement.)
Michael Draven: Yeah, the last couple of weeks have been…hectic, to say the least. I appreciate your understanding with all of that.
(Haven shakes his head, sighing.)
Alexander Haven: I’m more than happy to accommodate, Michael, but let’s not excuse accommodation with understanding. Truthfully, I have no goddamn clue why you’re doing all of this for McIntyre. Have you forgotten what she did? Actually, fuck that – has she forgotten what you did to her with that belt? I think I can speak for Alyssa, for Marty, and for half the free fucking world when I say that I don’t understand at all. I loaned my wife to you in a scam to convince you I was dead, and even I think this is a bad idea.
(Draven, nodding during this last part, lets out a long breath before his response.)
Michael Draven: London…I really can’t explain that one, Alex. It’s…I don’t know. I can’t put it into words. As for what I’m doing now…let me ask you a question. If you were in my position, and you and Alyssa had done some horrible shit to one another, and there was a chance – even if it were the tiniest of chances – be honest with me, Alex. Would you do anything you could to have her back?
(Haven stands, arms folded, regarding Draven. The owner appears to be deep in thought before finally responding.)
Alexander Haven: When you were looking for me in 2015, I was living in London. I was under an alias – not because I was hiding from you, but because I had nothing left to really live for. Alyssa had left me, I was…I was into some shit. We’ll leave it at that. When you called me out, I was watching on the TV in a shitty pub. The owner – he and I had become friends of sorts during my time there – encouraged me to embrace who I am. But the truth is…it was never who Alexander Haven was. It was who Alexander Haven and Alyssa Marie were together…the sum greater than the parts. I flew out to California, and I did what it took to get her back.
(Draven nods, as Haven continues.)
Alexander Haven: And then, of course, we came up with our plan to fuck your entire life up.
Michael Draven: That ruler thing was such bullshit.
Alexander Haven: But it pissed you off and got in your head, so it worked.
(The two former rivals share a laugh.)
Michael Draven: It all seems pointless in hindsight, fighting all of those years. We did some horrible shit to each other, and yet we were able to find common ground once we put that aside.
Alexander Haven: Still a big fat zero in that W column against me, pal.
(Draven grimaces, having been reminded of his repeated failures to best Haven.)
Michael Draven: Don’t remind me.
(Haven chuckles, and then extends his hand.)
Alexander Haven: Be careful out there tonight, Michael. If there was ever a time you couldn’t afford to lose your killer instinct, that time is now. You may love her, but I hope that love is enough to overcome what HATE has in store, because you’re going to have to draw from some dark places in order to take them down. You know what HATE can do…you’ve seen it first hand. We all have. Calder…he’s a different breed. He’s not like Prudence, or West, or any of them, really. The only common ground you’ll ever find with Indrid Calder is Maggie. He will not be convinced to stop. He does not have boundaries, Michael. He’s barely human. Maggie made him feel…and then it was ripped away from him. Be cautious. Whatever happens, Marty and I will have your back.
(Draven returns the handshake, but begins shaking his head.)
Michael Draven: I can’t have you do that, Alex. This…this is my battle. I need to settle this myself.
(Haven stares at him for a moment, then nods his head.)
Alexander Haven: I can respect that, even if I think you’re crazy. We’re heading out before the main event, in that case…if you change your mind, we’re here. You’re…as fucking weird as this is to say, you’re family now, in a sense.
Michael Draven: Talk about words I never thought I’d hear. That’s really fucked up, Alex.
Alexander Haven: And we’ve had some pretty fucked up moments.
(The two men chuckle, and Draven nods at Haven, extending his hand. The two one time bitter rivals now shake hands with mutual respect, before Draven exits the room. Fade to ringside.)
CHRIS KAGE VS GRACE GOEREN
MM: Up next we have a non-title match between newly crowned EWA Combat champ–
VA: EWA WORLD Combat champion, Malone.
MM: As I was saying, EWA Combat champion Grace Goeren to go one on one with–
VA: With the artist formerly known as Chris Kage…now a mere shell of the man–
MM: Stop cutting me off, Ashe, and I know the official names of the EWA championships and our wrestlers…
VA: Then get things right and I won’t have correct you constantly.
MM: Chris Kage is a three time EWA World Hea–
VA: Which makes him a four time loser.
MM: And what’s that made the “God Queen” then?
VA: The one time, undefeated, undisputed World Combat Champion?
NR: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Buffalo New York, The Incomparable, Chris Kageeeee!
The arena descends into darkness as a single red spotlight drops down on the entry way as Breaking Benjamin’s ‘I Will Not Bow’ slowly builds up and Chris Kage steps beneath the red spotlight. Bending down just as the guitar hits, Kage throws his hands up as red pyro explodes on either side of him. As he makes his slow descent toward the ring, the crowd cheers as a slight smirk comes across his face.
MM: One might mistake that look as one of arrogance, and there was a time I’d have agreed…but it’s not arrogance, Ashe–
VA: Oh, and what is it then?
MM: Outright confidence.
VA: We’ll see how confident he is when he’s looking into the God Queen’s eyes, Malone…
Jumping up onto the ring apron, Chris Kage climbs to the second turnbuckle staring out over the crowd as ‘Chaos Royale’ by Sister Sin prematurely hits the sound system causing him to look up the rampway.
Grace Goeren makes her way out from behind the curtain to a resounding chorus of boos, flanked by the larger than life Lucy Blaylock. She stops in front of the curtains, glaring out at the crowd with an annoyed look on her face and slowly lifts the EWA Combat championship high for all to see.
MM: Yes, thank you for showing us the Combat championship gifted to you by Sa–
VA: Shhh! Don’t say that woman’s name…she’s been uncreated by the grace of the God Queen to cleanse the EWA of her filth.
MM: Uncreated? You’re truly unbelievable, you know that? No matter how you want to word it, Ashe, Grace lost one of her most loyal and powerful soldiers.
VA: Yeah, yeah…
Wearing a black t-shirt with the blood-red lips logo of The Fallout, a pair of MMA combat gloves, and black vale tudo shorts, her hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail and the initials “GG” printed on the sides of her black Diablo boxing shoes. Marching toward the ring, she hands Lucy Blaylock the Combat title and stares up into the ring at her opponent, Chris Kage. Approaching the ring apron, she rolls underneath the bottom rope before pulling herself up to her feet as David Tucker orders Kage into a neutral corner. 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 anyone else.
In a match pitting two of the biggest names in the EWA that would usually be reserved for a show that takes place on a much grander scale, the action delivered and then some. While things started slow with both competitors taking time to feel each other out, it was Grace that took an early lead by grounding the much bigger Chris Kage, through the use of youthful speed. With Lucy on the outside, set to trip up the former three-time champion whenever it looked like he was gaining any sort of momentum on the reigning Combat champion, Kage had a hard time getting any sort of consistent offense going.
When the moment finally presented itself, Kage unleashed a barrage of knife edged chops to Grace in the corner, prompting the seven foot monster, Lucy Blaylock to make her presence known, but Kage wasn’t done there. Charging across the ring, Kage knocked the giant Blaylock off the ring apron and into the ringside barricade, nearly crashing her through it from the force of the impact. Turning his attention back to Grace Goeren, she was on him again, attempting to hit the Fall From Grace and capitalize on Lucy’s distraction, but the mastermind Kage held the top rope, dropping Grace flat on her back. As Grace scrambled to her feet, another vicious exchange occurred, and out of nowhere, Kage hit the Crackdown and seemed to have the victory sealed, but the always cunning Grace Goeren had kept herself close enough to the ropes that Lucy was able to pull her from the ring to the safety of the outside.
Sensing blood in the water, Kage wasn’t about to stop the vicious assault, and made chase. Fighting the monster Blaylock back, Kage turned his attention back to Grace only to catch a charging shot upside the head with the Combat championship, flooring the former champion and drawing blood. While this resulted in a disqualification, the outcome at that point didn’t seem to matter to Grace Goeren a she issued a statement to the former world champion, and seemingly, the EWA as a whole. Joined by Lucy Blaylock, the God Queen made certain that Chris Kage would remember the new-look Fallout, leading to a two on one beatdown of the EWA legend.
It was then that things got even more interesting…
NR: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match at the result of a disqualification, Chris Kaaaage!
MM: Oh, what is this now…
As Grace stomps down on Kage’s leg and he writhes around on the mat, Alyssa Marie Haven emerges onto the rampway with a mic in hand to a rousing chorus of boos.
Alyssa Marie Haven: Grace…hold up. Stop! GRACE!
As Grace turns toward the entryway, she says something to Lucy who keeps Kage in check, making sure he’s unable to get up. Moments later, Alexander Haven emerges from the back carrying two folding chairs and opens them, placing them front and center at the top of the rampway. Moments later, a stagehand emerges from the back carrying a tub of popcorn and a couple of drinks as a second stagehand hands Haven the EWA World heavyweight title, which he drapes over his shoulder.
Alyssa hands the mic over to Alex as both seem to get comfortable for the show.
Alexander Haven: By all means, Grace…continue.
MM: You’ve gotta be kidding me…
VA: He got the best seats in the house to watch the has-been Chris Kage get demolished by the God Queen!
MM: This is unbelievably unprofessional–
Shrugging, Grace turns back toward Chris Kage who gets yanked upward by Lucy Blaylock, firing off a shot, the crowd pops as the former world champion staggers Blaylock back. Firing another solid shot, Blaylock rocks back into the ropes as — FALL FROM GRACE!
VA: Cut short of a comeback bid!
At the top of the stage, Alex shares a laugh with Alyssa and tosses some popcorn into his mouth.
Back in the ring, Grace motions for Lucy to force him back up to his feet and mouths an order to her enforcer who tucks Kage’s head between her legs as he falls to a knee. Yanking him up by the back of his tights, Lucy wraps her arms around his midsection and lifts him up for a monster powerbomb — Grace leaps in synchronization — ATOMIC FALL FROM GRACE!
The crowd boos the maneuver as Kage flips to his side, gritting his teeth in the aftermath of the devastating move.
Stepping through the ropes, Grace looks down at Kage and shakes her head before dropping off the ring apron. Motioning to Lucy, the Fallout enforcer steps over the top rope as Grace retrieves her Combat title, walking up the rampway. As the Fallout approach the Haven’s, Alex stands up as both he and Grace keep their eyes trained on each other as she passes him by. Grace suddenly flings the Combat Title toward, thrusting the championship in Haven’s face as she screams at him.
Grace Goeren: I’m the real fucking World Champ, asshole! Remember it!
Haven glares back at Grace, as the two lock eyes for a moment before the Combat Champion disappears into the back with Lucy Blaylock. Turning their attention back to the ring, Alex and Alyssa watch in amusement as referees scramble to the ring to check on Chris Kage.
Slowly getting to his feet via the help of the referees, the crowd begins to cheer as Alex and Alyssa nod to each other before putting their popcorn and drinks down at the top of the stage. They both gently begin a rapid yet quiet “golf clap” in jest of their former stablemate, Chris Kage as he stretches out his back. Limping toward one of the corners of the ring, Kage discusses something with those sent to check on him. The pompous “clap” prompts the audience to boo the power couple, which merely makes them laugh.
YOUR WINNER BY DISQUALIFICATION: CHRIS KAGE (12:55)
(Kurt Cobain’s start to the chorus to Nirvana’s “In Bloom” sounds throughout the arena as the fans turn towards the entrance, giving a cheer to EWA’s “other” Wisconsin native.)
MM: And coming out is someone with something on his mind.
Heeeee’s the one…
(From behind the curtain steps out Dube wearing his ball-and-glove logo Milwaukee Brewers cap, dark red t-shirt and jeans with red Nikes.)
Who likes our pretty songs…
(He stops at the top of the ramp to take in the atmosphere before calmly heading for the ring.)
VA: Ever since Live From London, and this shouldn’t be a mystery to anyone, Dube has had more than his share of frustration.
MM: Laura Seton’s actions that evening are, and still remain, a mystery.
(As he reaches the bottom of the ramp, he heads up the steps, climbing into the ring. As gets to center-ring, he calls for a mic. As he gets one, he wastes no time starting to speak.)
Dube: As much as I would love to be out here and talk about how fun it was to be back in the ring and the success had in London… I can’t. And even if Laura Seton–
(The crowd has a big cheer at her name. Dube shakes his head and speaks sarcastically at first.)
Dube: –Yeah, great person. See–things were beginning to roll for us and, hey, Laura? How you get back out here because there’s something I must have missed and I would prefer you explain it to my face.
(A couple seconds pass before Vixtrola’s “Gunboat” starts up, drawing a bigger cheer from The Combat Zone.)
VA: Oh, joy. More of her.
MM: Feel how you want, I’m glad she’s on the way out. Dube has a legit gripe. She lost it.
(As the lyrics kick in, she heads to the ring, wearing black Nikes, jeans and a light purple shirt, her hair wet signifying she isn’t far removed from a shower. One thing she isn’t wearing? A smile. She slides into the ring, calling for a mic, seemingly impatient. Dube smirks having her in front of him. It doesn’t last long, however.)
Dube: We were doing pretty well out there, so what I wanna know… is just what the Hell… is going on here?
Laura Seton: You should already know that answer.
(His jaw clenches. Even expecting that response he still can’t believe that’s all she gives.)
Dube: Did you not see the replay?
Laura Seton: I lived it. I know what happened. But yes, oh yes, I saw it. I watched that over and over again.
Dube: So you know that was an accident.
(She steps up to him, nearly in his face.)
Laura Seton: Was it, Dubey? Was it?? Because that isn’t unprecedented with you.
(The two stare each other down. A few seconds pass before Laura’s eyes begin watering.
As if on the brink of crying.
She speaks with a failing effort of avoiding sobbing. The crowd begins quieting at this.)
Laura Seton: Because April 25th, 1999–
(Dube gets a look of minor annoyance.)
Dube: We already discussed this! Four years ago! And I apologized!
(She brings the mic to her lips but has to lower it, giving a hard swallow and blinking a number of times, an attempt at keeping herself from crying, though a couple tears fall.)
Laura Seton: And sometimes old apologies alone aren’t enough. If you had… had…
(A sob as she wipes an arm across her eyes.)
Laura Seton: … just stayed out of my life? Or maybe… just not like this… it’d be okay. But–
Dube: Laura, please, don’t. I’ll do it again. I’m agonizingly sorry for what happened. It was my fault. I own up to it. I did when I first apologized. I’m doing it again now.
Laura Seton: Not good enough. You know–
(She has a deep sniffle. The crowd falling to a further hush.
The two stand in silence as a few more tears escape her eyes prompting a few sympathetic voices from the crowd.
Her mouth opens but Dube speaks first.)
Dube: Don’t do what I think you’re going to do!
Laura Seton: You afraid I’m going to embarrass you? Put a mark over your name and ruin your fun with the audience?
Dube: I don’t want you hurting again!
(She starts breathing a bit heavier with another couple sniffles. Turning around with a lowered mic, she appears to be talking to herself. Another couple seconds pass before she turns back, looking at Dube. After a deep breath she appears to have collected herself.)
Laura Seton: You know what? Screw it.
Madison, Wisconsin, springtime, I first stepped foot in a wrestling ring. I went right after you and I know you remember that moment as well as I do. What started with you took on a life of it’s own, but…
(She could have gone on a tangent if she wished, but she sticks with the purpose of all this.)
Laura Seton: Over the years, the question popped up. As I gained more fans and attained so much success, the question became a staple of interviews with me: How did you get into wrestling?
“Wanted to try something new…”
“Was trying stuff out in a ring and Gates saw potential…”
All kinds of generic answers with the same tone but–
I wanted to learn what it was like–
Dube: For the last time, don’t do this to yourself!
(She gives a piercing glare. Such a comment was an insult to their collective intelligence.)
Laura Seton: ME? YOU caused all this pain in the first place when you beat me!
(The crowd gives a sound of surprise. Dube lowers his head before raising it again, as if trying to come up with a defense. Laura just stares a hole in him, becoming oblivious to everyone but him and herself.)
Dube: I didn’t “beat” you…
Laura Seton: Then how do you define it?
(He has a hesitation. “Beat” was such a strong word. He wasn’t nice to her that particular evening, but “beat” didn’t fall into his definition of the situation.)
Dube: I physically hurt you, yes.
(A handful of boos come out as another sound of surprise is heard.
Laura can’t help but let her jaw drop. A few more tears roll down her cheeks.)
Laura Seton: THAT’S ALL!? You call kneeing me in the gut, shoving me, banging my head against a wall and trying to choke me out just “physically hurting?”
(A loud round of booing comes out now. Laura appears even further hurt saying all of that. As if reliving it all. Dube stands, raising a hand to the back of his neck.)
Dube: And I’m willing to admit I did wrong. If you really want the answer to the question back then–
Laura Seton: I DON’T CARE ABOUT THAT ANYMORE YOU SON OF A BITCH!
(The crowd has a collective “Ooohhh” better sensing the serious of the situation for her. She scoffs.)
Laura Seton: “Did wrong.” Dube… YOU LITERALLY RUINED MY LIFE!! Do you know what the next week was like for me? Go to school and make up stories why I had a headache? Pretend to everyone that we were still an item?
(Tears start falling at a quick rate, her face flushing. She can’t even control the sobbing anymore.)
Laura Seton: I… dropped my basketball commitment… to Kansas State. I need… needed a… miracle to qualify for State in the 200… an event I… dominated for… three years. I went into a hole! I… I…
(Her strength appears to disappear. Her head drops as does her hand holding the mic. The mic falls from her hands before she falls to her seat. She raises her legs before wrapping her arms around them.
She buries her head against her knees…
And bawls her heart out.)
(The crowd’s chanting becomes overwhelming, as Dube can only look on wondering what to do. Does he dare approach the bawling woman as a puddle begins forming around her? Does he try to explain himself? Knowing there’s nothing he can do to salvage himself he simply drops the mic and wisely leaves the ring. The cameras go back to the commentary table.)
MM: I… I can’t believe what we just heard.
Dube hits the ramp and his shoulders fall as he heads slowly to the back. We shoot back to the commentators.
MM: Is this just some story she’s coming up with?
VA: She can’t stand the guy and… I don’t think she’s this good an actress.
(Silence strikes as both look on in surprise and disbelief.)
VA: It’s pretty obvious I’m not much of a Seton fan but seeing her… seeing her like this even breaks my heart. That person in the ring? That’s a woman melting down. Someone being shattered. That is not Laura Seton. I only hope she can regroup from–
MM: Hate to butt in here but we’ve got something going on in the back…
(Dube gets barely gets ten feet before an angry blur rushes him, grabbing his shirt and slamming him against the wall. We soon see that it is none other than former two-time EWA World Heavyweight Champion, Sinnocence! He hits the wall, letting out a gasp before she rounds on him again, keeping a tight grip on him. Dube may be taller and heavier, but with the wind knocked out of him he won’t be escaping the Valkyrie.)
Sinnocence: You fucking son of a bitch.
(She snarls at him, slamming him against the concrete again and drawing a groan from him.)
Dube: What the hell?!
Sinnocence: What the hell indeed, you fucking asshole.
(A quick move from the viking queen sends Dube down to the floor as Jada bends down, one hand going to his chin to make his eyes meet her own.)
Sinnocence: People like you never seem to learn the kind of damage you inflict and the pain that stays with you…even after twenty years. Not a whole lot of people know how close Laura and I have become over the past few months, despite how completely different we are. You honestly thought you were just going to remain oblivious to her pain?
(Jada brings that fist back and clocks him right in the temple, drawing a yelp from Dube.)
Sinnocence: Here’s a newsflash, fanboy…listen to a woman when she tells you to leave. When a woman says you’ve hurt her…you best fuckin’ believe her. You hear me?
(The owner of Valhalla takes a step back, apprising her work and waiting for him to acknowledge her question. Dube is quick to nod, his hands coming up to hold at his head.)
Sinnocence: Good. Fucking asshole.
(Fade to ringside.)
(The scene fades into the back. Ethan Leers is wandering around with some kind of bottle in a paper bag. Well, he isn’t really wandering. More like staggering. He staggers around the backstage area. He has this far off look in his eyes, and his pupils seem quite dilated. He looks angry, but then again, he always looks angry. He still has blood dried to his skin and face from his match earlier.)
Ethan Leers: Fucking pussies. Fucking bullshit pussies. Nobody here can fucking hold a fucking shit to me.
(Ethan takes a swig of his paper bag beverage. A big swig. His face suddenly brightens as he sees something a little down the hall.)
Ethan Leers: Well, well, well…fuck me sideways.
(The camera pans over to reveal Grace Goeren, having returned backstage from her match moments ago. She leans against the wall, Combat Championship slung over her shoulder. She seems distracted, lost in her phone, texting or tweeting or whatever it is millenials do on phones. Ethan slides over quickly, takes a swig, and leans on the wall against her. Grace quickly notices a presence and looks up, very irritated.)
Ethan Leers: Aren’t you a tall fucking drink of water in a fucking Mexican shithole?
(Grace winces in disgust. Ethan’s breath probably smells terrible.)
Grace Goeren: Get…the fuck…away.
(Grace backs away, putting her phone in her pocket and taking a defensive stance. Ethan staggers off the wall, losing his balance for a moment and smirking about his intoxication. He takes another swig of his drink.)
Ethan Leers: You know, you aren’t all that pretty when you aren’t all bloodied up. I mean, I don’t know if you are on your period, then maybe I would be more into you, but…nah, fuck that. I think you and me should go on a little fucking date. You know, to the ring and shit. Break some glass, put a sweet fucking gash in your skull, and then maybe I could fist fuck the opening or-
(Grace halls off and kicks Ethan in the balls! He doubles over quickly, dropping his paper bag. Grace takes her Combat Championship and SLAMS it in Ethan’s head, grinding down on him and opening a cut in his skull! Ethan starts coughing and sputtering, but also…giggling. Grace removes her title from Ethan and glares down at him.)
Grace Goeren: YOU THINK IT’S FUCKING FUNNY?! YOU THINK YOU CAN TALK TO YOUR FUCKING GOD QUEEN THIS WAY, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!
(Grace leans down and grabs the bottle. She removes it from the paper bag, revealing a 40 oz King Cobra. She glares at the bottle, then glares down at Ethan.)
Grace Goeren: Laugh at this, bitch!
(Grace SLAMS the bottle into Ethan’s forehead! Glass shards go everywhere and Ethan collapses. Graces tosses the broken top of the bottle at Ethan, who convulses on the ground, still giggling. Grace looks down, the look of disgust only intensifying. She moves her feet away from the blood on the ground, shaking what little has gotten on her off, aiming the droplets at the downed Ethan. Without another word, Grace simply throws her title over her shoulder and leaves. The camera pans to the bloodied face of Ethan who, despite everything, is beaming with happiness.)
Ethan Leers: I think I love this bitch.
(The camera fades out.)
AZRAEL GOEREN VS CRONOS DIAMANTE
(We cut backstage in the Combat Zone as Jada Kaine, known the world over as former EWA World Champion Sinnocence, is shown prowling the backstage hallways. She stops at one door and peers inside it, seemingly looking for someone or something. She walks a few feet and then opens another door, looking around in desperation.)
Sinnocence: Henrik? Henrik?
(She shakes her head and closes the door before heading towards backstage catering where several referees and ring crew members are grabbing some food before their assigned matches. She walks a few feet before she stops and approaches an EWA cameraman regular who is quietly piling his plate with food.)
Sinnocence: It’s Ben, isn’t it?
(The young technician turns and swallows hard when he sees the legendary Sinnocence, nodding his head.)
Ben: Yeah! Nice to finally meet…
Sinnocence: It’s nice to meet you too, but listen, have you seen Azrael Goeren around?
(The rest of the referees and techs exchange nervous glances before they slowly start to back out of catering.)
Sinnocence: He was just here with me fifteen minutes ago, I had to duck out and talk to Josh really quick and now I can’t find him anywhere. With everything going on with Donovan King I…
(The awkward tension in the air is suddenly noticed by Jada who angrily stares down at the sweating, nervous man in front of her.)
Sinnocence: Where is he? What happened?!
(Sinn grabs the man by his shirt collar and throws him into the nearest wall, pinning him tightly against it.)
Sinnocence: WHERE IS HE?!
Ben: Ugh…I can’t…I can’t breathe…he…he went to the ring! For his match! He was pretty…screwed up…I think he was…I think he was high or something…
(Sinnocence’s eyes grow wide as she drops the technician and storms off towards the wrestlers’ entrance with a vengeance. After a few steps away from catering, Sinnocence is SWARMED with black-shirted security guards who encircle her and keep her contained. Immediately sensing a trap, Sinn rams an elbow into the nearest guard’s jaw and gets ready to fight her way through the rest before the security guards part slightly and a woman approaches her, clipboard in hand and wearing a stylish navy business suit with a pair of wireframe glasses.)
(Stepping into the shot is EWA Public Relations Officer Shawna Jackson, a smile on her face as she motions for the security to tighten up the circle.)
Shawna Jackson: Miss Kaine. Would you care to explain to me why I just watched you assault one of our contracted EWA employees?
Sinnocence: I don’t have time for this shit, get outta my way. Now.
(Jada attempts to surge forward but is held back by the security guards who hold a distinct numbers advantage over her.)
Shawna Jackson: Would you care to explain to me what the problem is?
Sinnocence: The problem is that Henrik is in NO condition to wrestle tonight after what happened to him in London! Not that any of your prick bosses actually care about that.
Shawna Jackson: He seemed fine a few minutes ago. Overly talkative and chatty if you ask me…
Sinnocence: You saw him?
Shawna smiles, jotting down some more notes.
Shawna Jackson: Hmmhmm. Also saw him take a handful of pain pills before heading out to fight Cronos too. Funny how all the new security and surveillance equipment Haven had us install comes in handy in the most…unconventional ways.
(Jada’s eyes burn with rage as she tries to surge forward again, only to have her arms pinned back back the assembled security.)
Shawna Jackson: I’m sure he’ll be fine, he used to wrestle high plenty of times. What’s one more time going to do to him, even if it means your lover has fallen off the wagon again. So sad. I’d cry if I actually gave a shit about either of you. Thing is, we were instructed not to let any non-active EWA competitors past this point so I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait here for your drug addict boyfriend when he comes back after his match.
(Another condescending smile.)
Shawna Jackson: If he comes back, I mean. Boys? Stay here and make sure she doesn’t interfere. Make sure she’s comfy. Get her an espresso or something.
(Walking away smugly, Shawna gives a flick of her pen towards Sinnocence before the cameras pick up one last bit of audio from her, mumbled under her breath.)
Shawna Jackson: Wait until Grace hears about this…
(Jada desperately looks past the security guards and towards the wrestlers’ entrance, trying to get by them one more time before we slowly fade out and down to the ring…)
The camera cuts back to ringside, where we see Mike Malone and Vincent Ashe. Malone appears concerned, while Ashe has a look of disgust on his face.
MM: Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve just heard from EWA Head of Public Relations Shawna Jackson that, well…
VA: Let’s just say it, Malone. Azrael Goeren is off the bandwagon, apparently. Cronos Diamante is in the ring, and quite frankly, he deserves better than —
MM: Oh god.
The camera smash cuts to the entrance ramp, where Goeren is staggering down, eyes glazed over and clearly in no condition to compete here tonight. Goeren shambles down the ramp, nearly tripping over his own feet, as he finally, mercifully reaches the ring apron, grabbing the lower rope and pulling himself underneath. Cronos stands inside the ring, clearly annoyed at the scenario playing out in front of him.
MM: This is sad.
VA: This isn’t sad. This is pathetic. I’ve been saying it for years now, Malone, this man does not belong in this company. He doesn’t belong in a ring, and he doesn’t even belong in this country. And people wonder why Grace Goeren hates her father. Look at the man!
MM: Azrael Goeren’s going through a difficult situation, with Donovan King coming back to mercilessly beat the man —
VA: Stop making excuses for this, Malone!
Cronos is yelling at Rick Iley, pointing at Goeren. Iley, meanwhile, is telling Goeren that he’s going to call off the match, but Goeren is waving him off, saying he’s ready to fight! Incredibly, Goeren actually takes a step forward, putting his fists up toward Cronos’s direction. Iley seems to be listening into his earpiece, and says something to Cronos…and he calls for the bell!
VA: This is ridiculous.
Cronos roars forward, flattening Goeren almost immediately with a spinning roundhouse punch! The crowd, mostly silent, watches on as Cronos shakes his head, dragging Goeren to his feet and flinging him into the corner. Goeren crashes sternum first, and Cronos hooks him from behind into a Katahajime suplex! Cronos looks out into the ground, and continues to shake his head as he pulls Goeren up one more time…
MM: Lucifer’s Honor! Cronos has hit Lucifer’s Honor, and thankfully, this one should be over now.
VA: And hopefully Goeren’s career here along with it.
Cronos makes the cover…
NR: Here is your winner…CRONOS…DIAMANTE!
Sinnoence almost immediately comes bolting down the entrance ramp once the bell sounds, as if security had relinquished their hold on her after the match had ended. She glares at Cronos, who simply allows her to pass, stepping through the ropes and heading to the back. Paramedics come down, and for the second time in as many events, begin to strap Goeren into a stretcher as Sinnocence follows them to the back.
MM: I…I have no words for this, ladies and gentlemen. Donovan King, if you’re watching this, I hope you’re satisfied with what you’ve driven this man to.
VA: Donovan King doesn’t have a goddamn thing to do with this, Malone.
MM: Let’s take a moment to hear from one of our great sponsors!
YOUR WINNER BY PINFALL: CRONOS DIAMANTE (1:31)
VA: What? I was going to say the largest set of shot glasses!
RACHEL ELLSWORTH VS MAGGIE MCINTYRE
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
NR: The following contest is scheduled for one fall!
The heavy opening drum beats of AFI’s “I Hope You Suffer” reverberate throughout the arena and the lights flicker in time to the beat as the Banshee, Maggie McIntyre, appears at the top of the rampway…though she is not alone! 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 bouncing as she moves with 3K member Michael Draven at her side!
NR: Introducing first, she is from Albany, New York and is accompanied to the ring by Michael Draven…MAGGIE MCINTYRE!
VA: Ugh. God, these two are back together.
MM: Interesting she left off the Banshee moniker this go-around, Michael Draven is definitely here to keep her safe from the likes of HATE!
VA: I wish she’d go back.
I faced destruction and you
Just killed me and walked away
I gave my heart to the cruel
Now, it will not beat again
She climbs into the ring, stepping through the ropes and raising fist to the roar of the crowd before shedding the leather jacket to the outside Michael Draven stands outside the ring at her corner, keeping a sharp eye out for any signs of HATE. Her music slowly begins to die down as she awaits her opponent.
MM: She better not let possible retaliation from HATE distract her from this match! Her opponent is a bonfire of surprises!
VA: She makes a bonfire in my pants.
MM: You’re sure that’s not from your constant yeast infections?
VA: Oh go to hell.
NR: And her opponent, jailing from Cochranton, Pennsylvania…the ATOOOOMIC REDHEAD…RACHEL ELLSWORTH!
LOOK ALIVE, SUNSHINE!
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.
LISTEN UP – THE FUTURE IS BULLETPROOF!
THE AFTERMATH IS SECONDARY!
IT’S TIME TO DO IT NOW AND DO IT PROUD…
KILLJOYS, MAKE SOME NOISE!
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. She doesn’t linger on the stage for long, instead choosing to run down the ramp. She makes 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.
Referee Rick Iley calls both women to the center of the ring, speaking quietly to them before he nods and calls for the bell.
MM: And this match is officially underway!
Rachel and Maggie lock up as soon as the bell sounds, both women near equally matched in size and power. They struggle back and forth for a few moments to the sound of the audience cheering before Rachel pivots her weight and throws the Banshee with a beautifully executed hip toss! Maggie hits the mat hard, but rolls away to get out of striking range and is quickly on her feet again. Rachel and Maggie circle each other, lionesses hungry for a win, their eyes alight with the desire to win as Michael Draven paces the outside the ring, scanning the crowd for any signs of HATE.
The redhead is suddenly pushed back before Maggie pounces on her, nailing strike after strike as the crowd roars their approval. It isn’t long though, before Rachel finds her bearings and wraps her arms around Maggie and throws her back in a vicious belly-to-back suplex! The Banshee lands near the ropes, drawing Draven’s attention, but he doesn’t move to interfere. Rachel is on fire, grabbing one of the brunette’s arms and locks in an armbar! Maggie’s eyes immediately go wide before she realizes where she is and grabs the ropes, immediately making Referee Rick Iley drop in and force Rachel to break the hold…though the damage has been done in a short amount of time! Rachel grins, knowing what she’s done before she goes in again…only to be met with an uppercut!
It’s enough to drive her back and give Maggie a moment to recover, Draven concerned on the outside ropes as he watches her hold her elbow in pain.
Rachel advances again and again, working the brunette over well to the point where Maggie is visibly tiring and in pain. Strikes, chops, and submission after attempted submission from the Atomic Redhead…a systematic plan of attack to weaken her opponent and further injure her elbow!
They pause only for a moment when the lights start to flicker…the both of them staring up at the ceiling before the arena is plunged into darkness for a split second.
MM: What is going on?!
VA: HATE IS HERE! LOOK!
From deep in the audience, the giant masked Titan of HATE slowly making his way towards the ring. Maggie sees him first and Rachel takes advantage of her distraction to bowl the brunette over and roll her up!
Rachel lets out a shout of frustration before hooking Maggie’s leg again!
MM: Rayner’s moving at a glacial pace, but he’s going to get to that ring eventually!
VA: Where are the rest of them? Are we gonna see some Mission Impossible dropping from the rafters kind of deal?
Maggie screams right back at Rachel, finally getting free to roll away and jump back to her feet. Michael Draven firmly stands his ground, snarling as the Titan continues his approach. The Atomic Redhead is right on her heels before running for the opposite ropes, bouncing off them with her arm held out–
MM: BANSHEE’S WAIL!
The former Banshee of HATE catches her opponent with her signature superkick to the jaw and Rachel goes down!
VA: That knocked the sense out of her!
Maggie quickly flops over Rachel’s prone form, weakly pinning her shoulders down as Iley drops for the count.
MM: She did it!
NR: Here is your winner…Maggie McIntyre!!
VA: Oh god, look at her trying to run! GET HER RAYNER!
She pulls herself up and off of Rachel, eyeing the Titan’s approach…he’s almost there. Maggie taps Rachel’s cheek, her injured arm tight against her side as she tries to help the disoriented redhead back her feet, unwilling to leave her to HATE’s ministrations. It isn’t long before Maggie helps to pull Rachel to her feet and tells her to get out before jumping out of the ring herself.
Maggie McIntyre: Mike! Mike!
Michael Draven: I’m here! Come on!
Draven quickly goes to her side and the pair retreat up the ramp. The Titan lets out a roar as he reaches the ring finally, his massive fists thudding against the mat as he slams them down. He did not catch the Banshee this time!
VA: OHHHH! McIntyre’s going to be torn to shreds when they finally get her!
YOUR WINNER BY PINFALL: MAGGIE MCINTYRE (11:43)
NOTHING VS JACOB MEPHISTO & SAMMY ROCHESTER
NR: This match is scheduled for one fall, and is a tag team match!
The lights go down, and fog starts to fill the entranceway and ringside area. The eerie sounds of Led Zeppelin’s “No Quarter” begin to ooze through the PA.
NR: Introducing first, at a combined weight of 720 lbs, accompanied by Sean Boden, Jacob Mephisto and Sammy Rochester, PARIAH!
As the drums and guitar kick in, the black-suited figures of Mephisto and Boden step through the entrance, and between them stands the giant Monster Child himself. Boden and Mephisto smirk knowingly, and they lead Sammy to the ring.
MM: Though Sean Boden hasn’t been cleared by medical staff to wrestle tonight, it’s pretty clear Pariah’s evened the odds, to say the least. The Vice Squad has been taken out by Cronos Diamante, and even if they were here, who are they to the beast that is Sammy Rochester?
VA: OK, Malone, let’s get one thing straight. We don’t know who hired Cronos, but I’m willing to bet it wasn’t Boden… does he seem like someone who would let someone else do his dirty work?
MM: You got a point there, Ashe, but then, Mephisto is as cold and cunning as they come, and I wouldn’t put it past him, either.
VA: That’s fair. Either way, Pariah’s turned what was a 3-2 disadvantage into a 2 on 1 scenario. And with Sammy, it might as well be 4 on 1… NOTHING’s got a hell of an uphill battle here.
Boden stays on the outside, walking around the ring. Mephisto climbs the ring steps, and through the ropes, while Sammy steps onto the apron, pulling himself up and over the top rope. His eyes burn a hole through the entrance as the music stops and the lights cut suddenly.
it seems strange my life should end
in such a terrible place…
Placebo’s “Without You I’m Nothing [Flexirol Remix]” starts to pump its way through the sound system, as a faint spotlight hits the entrance. NOTHING stands with his head down.
NR: And their opponent, from Albany, NY, weighing in at 255 lbs, the Purveyor of HATE, NOTHING!
NOTHING slowly brings his head up, looking toward the ring, particularly at Mephisto, with intensity. He starts the slow walk to ringside, his eyes never leaving the pair in the ring. Sammy bristles, attempting to charge, but Mephisto reassures him, keeping him in the ring.
VA: Sammy made his EWA debut at Live From London, and he did it by beating the absolute tar out of that man right there.
MM: And now he’s going to face those two alone. We could be looking at a repeat of that night, Vince.
VA: It won’t be a repeat, Malone, it’ll be something much worse. Mephisto saved Sammy for the end of the dog collar match… now he’s in there from the beginning? NOTHING’s about to get massacred.
NOTHING steps into the ring, removing his entrance gear, and Juan Cardillo starts to check him. Sammy is chomping at the bit to get at him, but Mephisto is keeping him at bay for the moment, while Boden just smirks from the outside. Cardillo goes to call for the bell, but before he can, Faith No More’s “Epic” starts to blare through the arena, to a massive crowd pop!
MM: Maybe we were wrong! Is the Vice Squad still in this?!
Hueso steps onto the stage, on his cane, microphone in his other hand. He looks pretty pissed.
Hueso: I bet you three think you’re so fucking clever, right? Send the mercenary to take out the Vice Squad, and you can beat up on NOTHING to your heart’s content, and nobody’s the wiser that it was you. Well, good job, I guess, because the Vice Squad’s not going to be a part of this match.
But be careful what you wish for, fellas, because with them out of the way, you cleared a path for a HATE reunion. Don’t worry, Nikki, I got this.
And his partner, from Las Vegas, NV, weighing in at 318 lbs, he is a former NYSWF Tag Team Champion, a former SHOOT Project Tag Team Champion, the Enigma, the Leviathan, RYAN CUDDIHY!
Amon Amarth’s “Prediction of Warfare” drives into the arena, and Ryan enters. His face is painted blue from his forehead to his beard, and his long blond hair is braided behind his head. His eyes are whited out with contacts, and his bare torso is covered in tattoos, over a pair of black cargo pants. He lets out a berzerker roar with his arms at his sides, before stomping toward the ring.
MM: Ryan Cuddihy is here tonight to fight!
VA: Boden is incensed! Mephisto and Sammy aren’t too sure what to make of him, either!
MM: For those who don’t know, Ryan was a part of HATE during his reign as NYSWF Tag Team Champion, with the man he challenged to a Human Torch match at Live From London! He and NOTHING have at least a little bit of experience as a team, and at 6’11” and 300 plus pounds, he definitely evens things up against Mephisto’s pet monster!
VA: I dunno, Malone, that may be taking things a little too far! Sammy’s unbelievably powerful, and Ryan hasn’t wrestled on the big stage since… what, 2012?
Ryan pulls himself onto the apron and steps over the top rope, looking over at NOTHING, who gives him a nod of approval. Boden slams his hands on the apron on the outside, yelling at Cardillo, but the referee ignores him, calling for the bell!
Sammy is just itching to go, and Mephisto lets him. He charges at NOTHING to start the match, but Ryan intercepts, and the two giants trade blows back and forth, with Ryan ducking a large haymaker and sending Rochester to the ropes. He tries for a shoulder block on Sammy’s return, but Sammy doesn’t budge, and instead puts him to the mat with a huge clothesline! Sammy mounts Ryan, sending some more punches his way, but Cuddihy’s defense is up, and he pulls his legs up, catching Sammy’s arm, and putting him into a gogoplata! Sammy tries to resist, finally standing up and dropping Ryan down in a massive powerbomb!
Ryan releases the hold, and Sammy is quick to attack again, laying boots into Ryan near the ropes. Sammy holds the top rope, kicking Ryan’s ribs, but he rolls to the outside! Sammy froths at him, reaching over the top rope, but Cardillo keeps him at bay until Ryan tries to get back into the ring. Sammy pushes Cardillo away, charging at Ryan, but Ryan drives a shoulder into his gut, pushing him back, and as he gets into the ring, he drives Sammy’s head into his knee! Sammy stumbles back, and Ryan levels him with a huge clothesline! Sammy falls to the mat, and Ryan covers but doesn’t get a two count!
Sammy throws Ryan off, getting to his feet quickly, and as Ryan gets up, Sammy quickly tosses him back to the mat with a belly to belly suplex! Ryan hits the mat hard, clearly not used to being thrown around like a ragdoll! He crawls to make the tag to NOTHING, and Sammy tries to pull him away, but not in time! NOTHING flies in, launching a rapid fire series of kicks at Sammy’s knee, dropping him to his knees, and hitting a huge roundhouse kick to his face! Sammy staggers from the kick, and Ryan gets to his feet, as NOTHING hits him with a second roundhouse! Sammy’s eyes widen, but he still won’t fall! Ryan goes to the ropes, and comes back with a giant Yakuza kick to Sammy’s face that finally puts him on the mat! Cardillo gets him out of the ring, and NOTHING is in with the Monster Child!
NOTHING dives onto Sammy, trying his best to keep the monster off his feet! He throws punches to Sammy’s face, and before Sammy can swing at him, he hops away. Sammy rolls over onto his hands and knees, and NOTHING hits a kick to his ribs! Sammy absorbs it, so he does it again! Sammy growls, up on his knees now, and NOTHING swings for his head– caught by Rochester! Sammy pulls his leg, pulling NOTHING into a powerslam that rocks the ring! Mephisto laughs from the outside, and Sammy stomps on NOTHING’s chest! He hops into the air, driving a knee into NOTHING’s face! Mephisto calls for the tag, and Sammy looks over, pulling NOTHING by the hair to Mephisto’s corner! He tags Mephisto in, and Sammy hoists NOTHING into the air in a guerrilla press!
Mephisto waves for Sammy to go, and he tosses NOTHING over into a bodyslam across Mephisto’s knees! Sammy exits the ring and Mephisto covers!
THR– Ryan breaks it up!
Mephisto holds the back of his head where Cuddihy kicked him, and Cardillo shoos the big man back out! Mephisto grabs NOTHING, pulling him to his feet– jawbreaker from the Purveyor! Mephisto stumbles back, and NOTHING doubles him over with a kick, dropping him with a fisherman’s neckbreaker! Mephisto doesn’t even have time to roll over before NOTHING comes off the ropes with a running senton! NOTHING is on the warpath!
Mephisto is getting to his feet, surprised that NOTHING still has anything left! NOTHING runs in with Pure Hate! NO! Mephisto ducked it! NOTHING goes down, and Mephisto pulls him up by the arm into a Pride Before the Fall! NOTHING hits the mat hard, and Mephisto covers!
THR– kickout by NOTHING!
Ryan reaches out for a tag, and NOTHING starts to crawl toward Ryan! Mephisto grabs his leg, but NOTHING kicks him in the face, getting him away! NOTHING dives– Ryan’s hand isn’t there!
Boden drops Ryan to the apron with a low blow, and Ryan falls to the outside! NOTHING is all alone again, as Boden wraps Ryan in the Wrath with a guillotine on the floor!
NOTHING turns around to face Mephisto and gets a face full of Black Mist! NOTHING is dazed, and Sammy barges past Juan Cardillo to get into the ring! Cardillo tries to send him out, but Sammy doesn’t listen, grabbing NOTHING by the back of the neck, and driving him HARD to the mat with a reverse chokeslam! NOTHING’s face is busted open! Juan Cardillo calls for the bell, but none of Pariah makes any attempt to stop the attack!
NR: Your winners by disqualification, NOTHING and Ryan Cuddihy!
MM: Pariah isn’t done! They’re gonna kill him, Ashe!
VA: NOTHING should’ve quit while he was ahead! Now look where it got him! And Cuddihy should’ve stayed retired!
Ryan’s tapping like a madman on the outside, but it’s no use! Meanwhile, Mephisto nods at Sammy, who smiles like a kid in a candy store as he pulls NOTHING into a full nelson camel clutch! Mephisto backs up to the ropes, and CHARGES with a Godless kick to NOTHING’s face! NOTHING is out! Pariah leaves NOTHING on the mat, and Ryan’s tapping slows down, and finally stops! Boden stands up, straightening his suit, as “No Quarter” starts to play again, and Mephisto and Sammy survey the damage, before exiting the ring!
MM: Absolutely sickening, people! These aren’t men, they’re animals!
VA: The war between NOTHING and Mephisto shows no signs of slowing down, and you gotta figure Mephisto has the edge with Sammy Rochester behind him!
MM: And Boden gets an early victory of sorts against Ryan, but when the Human Torch comes, it’ll just be the two of them with no distractions!
VA: I’d say the match itself is a pretty big distraction! But one thing is clear, that katahajime won’t be enough to save him there!
YOUR WINNERS BY DISQUALIFICATION: NOTHING & RYAN CUDDIHY (8:41)
(We fade backstage, where we see one of the participants in the main event, Michael Draven, walking through the halls of the Combat Zone. He’s alone – Maggie McIntyre is nowhere in sight – and clearly prepared for his match tonight with Indrid Calder, with his ring jacket on, and wrists taped. He turns a corner, and stops sharply, staring straight ahead. The expression on his face shifts from one of focus and concentration…to one of rage.)
Michael Draven: And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those cunts who would attempt to fuck with the people that are important to me.
(Draven chuckles, still staring daggers into whomever he’s seen.)
Michael Draven: I was raised in the church, but I’m not exactly a religious man…so that may not be exactly how it goes. The funny thing is…all those hours sitting in Sunday school, and not once did I hear about a fake ass bitch who would proclaim herself to be a God Queen.
(The camera finally pans over, to reveal GRACE GOEREN strolling towards Draven, a smug smile on her lips and the EWA Combat Championship draped over her shoulder. Flanking Grace is a massive woman with stringy, unwashed black hair and a dingy grey dress. She keeps her head down and follows Grace obediently as the self-proclaimed God Queen stands directly in front of Draven with a sick smile.)
Grace Goeren: There he is, there’s the man I want to see! Come on over here you crazy bastard and give give me a hug! We totally did it! High five, motherfucker!
(Grace raises her hand in the air, motioning with her head for Draven to hit that. Draven doesn’t move in the slightest.)
Grace Goeren: No love? Damn man, you’re ice cold.
Michael Draven: What type of crazy shit are you even talking about?
(Grace looks shocked to her core as she lowers her hand and scoffs indignantly.)
Grace Goeren: You legit right now? You for reals don’t know? Sahara! We fucking did it! Straight savage fire, baby! I mean sure, I beat the living piss out of that cunt like it was my job…cause it was…but you…oh man, you WRECKED that bitch long before I got to her. She was in fucking pieces because of you ditching her ass for that wrecked Magpie pussy. Shit, that was awesome! Those were some dead eyes she flashed at me when I shoved that mic down her whore throat…I mean, what I did to her was necessary but what you did to her was just pure hatred! And then…oh shit…get this…and then on top of all of that you’re still stringing her along and pretending like you care about her? FUCKING LOVE IT! Come on, high five big guy!
(Draven smirks, closing the gap between the two of them as the monstrous woman stands menacingly behind Grace, ready to step in at a moment’s notice to serve her God Queen.)
Michael Draven: I’m not one of your brainwashed lunatic followers, little girl. You have the nerve to accuse me of manipulating someone that I l…
(The younger Draven cuts himself off, shaking his head with a humored grin.)
Michael Draven: You know what? You’re not worth getting fired up over, Gracey.
(He looks up behind Grace at the giant woman towering over the God Queen.)
(Draven gives her a once over, sizing her up.)
Michael Draven: New girl?
Grace Goeren: Well we did have a new opening…but where are my manners? This is Alice and this is her first day in Wonderland. Alice? This needle-dick is called Michael Draven and he’s being naughty. We don’t like naughty people. We want everyone to be nice. So Michael? PLEASE be fucking polite when you address your God Queen you walking, talking chlamydia cuntsack or else I’m going to have Alice tear you a brand new footlong asshole. Hashtag something to look forward to.
(Draven looks down at Grace, shaking his head.)
Michael Draven: You know, now I can see why they all fall in line, at least. You’re good with the tough talk and the manipulation, and if I wasn’t focused on what I’m about to do to Indrid Calder, you might have been able to bait me there. I’ve got a date with a Stranger right now, Grace…but understand this. Your time is coming. I’ve never bought into your psychobabble bullshit about being a God, and I’m guessing Gaunt doesn’t either, after tonight…but I can tell you this, Gracey. You had a follower…one that was loyal to a fault. You manipulated her, and used her, and did everything under the sun to alienate her, and she still came back for more…until you tried ending her career. But you didn’t finish the job, Grace…and she’s coming for you. And when she casts you out of your false kingdom that you’ve so carefully built around you…I’ll be there to watch you fall, you smug bitch.
(The sarcastic, condescending wit of Grace quickly evaporates at the strong words from the imposing Draven. Alice lifts her head up slowly, ready for anything. Grace holds her back and gives her a pat on the shoulder before turning back to Draven.)
Grace Goeren: She’ll never be anything in this business, not without me. I gave her career life and I took it away when that dumb bitch stopped being useful. I cast her out of paradise…and into the slums where the likes of you belong. Ain’t no getting back into heaven…do yourself a favor, Draven…let the bitch die. Save what’s left of your shitty career…and stay out of my fucking way.
Michael Draven: You may think you and Gaunt and your new friend here are in heaven, Grace…but I can promise you one thing, “God Queen”…
(Draven leans in closer to Grace as he begins to walk by her, speaking as he does.)
Michael Draven: That angel you cast out? She’s going to show you what Hell feels like.
(As they pass each other, Grace turns with a smug little smirk on her face, slowly walking backwards, she holds up her pinky finger.)
Grace Goeren: Oh hey, at least we know that whore won’t have any problems swallowing you considering she can deepthroat a mic!
(Grace and her crew share a laugh as Draven slowly backs away, keeping his eye on her and her enormous companion. He finally turns away and heads down the hallway with a slight shake of his head. Fade to ringside.)
MM: Alright folks, as we get ready to head to our main event of the evening, we need to talk about…
(The normally composed Malone is suddenly interrupted by the opening chords of Sister Sin’s “Chaos Royale” and has to stop himself from swearing on the air. The gathered fans here in the Combat Zone get to their feet and the boos start flowing from every section of the arena. The exploding mushroom cloud on the video screen gives way to the ashen confetti raining down from the ceiling as the curtain is parted and EWA Combat Champion Grace Goeren emerges to a chorus of jeers and seething hatred from the native Bostonians.)
VA: GRACE! OVER HERE! I GOT THAT TATTOO OF YOU LIKE I PROMISED!
MM: Sit down, will you? What in the world is Grace Goeren doing out here right now? She’s got some nerve even showing her face after that disgusting and heinous act she committed in London to Sahara.
MM: Don’t even start that.
VA: No, I’m serious…Sa…ha…ra? Is that some sort of curry or something? Never heard of it. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s bland and useless and totally unbefitting of our God Queen.
(Grace steps through the curtain and glares out at the sold out crowd, rolling her eyes at their reaction to her and giving them the universal “jerk off” motion with her right hand. She strolls down the ramp with her title belt draped over her shoulder, making sure the world sees her prize. Flanking her is the massive woman that we saw earlier, her newest ward and trainee named Alice who menacingly follows Grace like a dog.)
MM: We saw Grace have a bit of a run in with Michael Draven earlier and he’s not the only person to take issue with her and what’s left of the Fallout. After the public dismissal and humiliating attack on Sahara, Grace has definitely rubbed a lot of people in EWA the wrong way and rumors are certain members of the Fallout are beginning to doubt her as a…
VA: Stop. Just stop. I don’t care for the way you are criticizing our glorious God Queen’s decisions. Everything she says is righteous. Everything she does is divine. So just shut up and enjoy basking in her glorious…OO!! GRACE! OVER HERE!
(As Grace reaches the foot of the ring, she walks over to the announce table as Vincent bows and kisses her hand. She gives him an approving nod and mouths something inaudible to the cameras. Vincent quickly snatches a spare microphone from ringside and presents it to her as she smiles and rolls underneath the bottom rope. The boos only get louder as she stands up and Alice stands defiantly next to her, wringing her hands and shifting her weight from side to side.)
VA: Everyone is just in awe of our amazing God Queen! Praise her! Praise her you stupid chowderheads! What’s WRONG with these idiots, Malone?
MM: You are absolutely deplorable, you know that right? What’s it like to live life without any dignity?
VA: Not so bad. The money helps.
(Grace lets the crowd get another few seconds of hate-filled booing out of their system before she takes a step forward and hoists the EWA Combat Championship high into the air, antagonizing them further. Cackling with delight, she lowers the belt and motions for Alice to take a knee. Alice does so extremely quickly, a dead soulless stare behind her eyes. Grace rests her free arm on top of Alice’s head like she’s a piece of furniture and brings the microphone up to her mouth.)
Grace Goeren: I never thought I’d say this, but fuuuuuck me…it’s good to be back in Boston with the EWA World Combat Championship!
(Grace shows off the title once again to another chorus of boos before she lowers it back down and actually drapes it over Alice’s face as she’s kneeling.)
MM: This is insanity, this new woman…
MM: Whatever her name is, she’s just taking all of this abuse and degradation from Grace without reacting to it at all! She’s completely subservient to her!
VA: That’s because Alice has seen the light, Malone.
(The God Queen takes a lap around the ring before stopping in the center and lets out a little laugh.)
Grace Goeren: Now see, I wasn’t going to give you leprechaun-fuckers the gift of my presence until I came out here later and mercy-killed the career of Chris Kage…but then Michael Draven had to saunter in front of me backstage and REALLY PISS ME THE FUCKITY FUCK OFF.
(Anger and rage flash across Grace’s face but she quickly composes herself with another laugh.)
Grace Goeren: Not so much about what he said, but HOW he said it to me. So rude. So arrogant. He actually tried to make me think that I should be scared of that nasty, constantly DTF ratchet cunt-can called Sahara. He tried to warn me about a human piece of dogshit that I scraped off my heels and tossed in the trash back in London.
(Grace takes a deep breath, looking like she’s on edge.)
Grace Goeren: Nobody…NOBODY…fucking threatens me and walks away with their balls intact. I know Draven is just trying to cover one of his whore’s asses…dude’s got like 80 goddamn smash sluts in his life…so I’m only going to say this once. Him and the rest of the Three Kings better respect the belt cause there is only ONE World Champion here in EWA. ONE elite. One God. And that’s me! And if any of those little bitches want to step up and try me, I will burn their entire playtime happy fun zone kingdom down to the fucking ground. I’m the real World’s Champion here! ME! ME!
(The piercing screeching of Grace is suddenly replaced by another cleansing deep breath as the crowd reacts with their raucous boos and jeers.)
Grace Goeren: But see, all of you fuckbois can see just how upset I am over that shit. I don’t need that type of grief in my life from nobodies like Draven or Sahara or the Three Kings or any other bitch in EWA. None of y’all at my level! Nobody can understand the pressure I’m under to lead this company! I cast Sahara out because she didn’t deserve to be here and associated with a top talent like me! What I did…what…we…did…we…wait…you know what? Lizzy? LIZZY?! GET ON OUT HERE! NOW!
MM: What is she doing?
VA: I think she’s calling out Elizabeth Gaunt…
MM: The fact that Gaunt is not out here right now with Grace speaks volumes actually…
(Grace motions for Alice to stand up as the massive woman drapes the EWA Combat Championship over her own shoulder and stands stoically behind Grace. Grace furiously screams into the microphone again.)
Grace Goeren: I SAID NOW! GET OUT HERE NOW! GET THE FUCK…
(Gaunt stomps out from the curtains, her eyes blazing orbs of madness set within her skull. There is no music and no grandiose entrance. Elizabeth’s only goal is to enter the ring…and come face to face with The God Queen.
She walks with a purpose and slides under the bottom rope, pausing only to adjust the EWA Network Title on her shoulder.
The two women stare at each other as the crowd is at a fever pitch, feeling like things are going to explode at any moment. Grace slowly approaches her proverbial “Left Hand” and smiles warmly, resting a hand on her shoulder.)
Grace Goeren: Thank you for FINALLY showing up. I just wanted to bring you out here because…well…talking about that nameless, useless cunt again got me thinking about what we did to her in London. Made me reflect a little bit, you know? Made me realize that you…my beloved…actually disobeyed an order that your God Queen gave you that night…
MM: Oh God, this can’t be good…
(The huge frame of Alice looms nearby as Grace continues.)
Grace Goeren: I saw you hesitate when I told you to humiliate that cunt. You did finally act, but you did so without conviction and love for your God Queen in your heart. I know that deep down in that twisted little soul of yours…you actually had second thoughts about doing what I told you to do. And that type of misbehavior cannot go unpunished. If we don’t have rules, we don’t have order. If we don’t have order, we don’t have purity. And if we don’t have purity…we’re not any better than the rest of the fucking animals here in EWA.
(Grace takes a step forward and stares Gaunt down before slowly turning her gaze to the EWA Network Championship draped over Gaunt’s shoulder.)
Grace Goeren: Now how to punish you? You’re not weak like Sahara so physical and emotional pain won’t damage you like it did her. So what do I do? What do I do?
(Grace stops and smiles.)
Grace Goeren: What you do have is pride…that nasty little gnawing devil on your shoulder. Something I’ve tried to break in you for a long time but you just ain’t falling in line, areya? Not yet anyways…
(The God Queen stares up at the ceiling and closes her eyes as she starts to recite a particular verse.)
Grace Goeren: There are no other gods before me. I am the alpha and omega. As there is only one god…there can be only ONE champion.
(The devoutly deranged leader of the Fallout takes a step back and motions towards the mat floor between them.)
Grace Goeren: Here is your punishment. Time to offer up your tithing and prove your loyalty to me. I want you to put that Network Championship down on the mat between us. I want you to present it to me and beg me to take that burden away from you. I want you to tell the world that I’m the only champion here in EWA. I want that fucking Network title belt and I want it NOW.
(The crowd explodes at that ultimatum as Grace takes another step back to give Gaunt more room to lay down her tribute. The fans are losing their minds and cheering at Gaunt not to do it as Grace stretches her arms out wide, waiting for Elizabeth to make her choice.)
MM: Grace Goeren has just demanded that Elizabeth Gaunt relinquish the EWA Network Championship to her! This is insane! What gives Grace the right to strip Elizabeth of her rightfully won title? Heck, she has more right to the Network Championship than Grace ever did when she won the Combat Championship…
VA: That’s the WORLD Combat Championship you disrespectful chode! It’s like Grace said! ONE GOD! ONE CHAMPION! ONE GOD! ONE CHAMPION! Come on, chant it with me!
MM: The grape Kool-Aid you drink every week must be awfully tasty there, partner.
(Gaunt stares holes into Grace for a moment, her white pixie-cut hanging down to partially obscure those unpredictable turquoise eyes. She very slowly rotates, taking in the crowd…and her head drops dejectedly.
She reaches up to pull the EWA Network Title from her shoulder, and she holds it out to Grace. Her eyes remain focused solely on the canvas like a beaten puppy. Goeren throws her arms wide, a huge grin spreading across her features at how easy this was.)
Grace Goeren: ATTAGIRL! Now let’s—
(Grace’s hand reaches towards the title, and at the very second when her fingertips are about to grasp it, Elizabeth intentionally pulls it out of her reach and drapes it right back over her own shoulder. Her chin tilts upward, and a silver-fanged smile dominates her entire face. Those eyes sparkle with derangement…and absolutely no trace of subservience.
Goeren’s mouth tightens into a grimace at the ruse just as Elizabeth brings a microphone up to her lips.)
Elizabeth Gaunt: We are made in God’s image, aren’t we, Grace? All of your wittle babies. Each of your special and chosen archangels. Created in YOUR image. Crafted and honed into human weapons. Grace Goeren is the blueprint for the divine…and we are your Heavenly spawn.
(Liz pauses, slowing walking back and forth in front of Grace.)
Elizabeth Gaunt: One should never question the will of God. We were taught to have faith. We were told to serve. Our careers have been devoted to blood sacrifice after blood sacrifice…all done to honor this HOLY creature. We’ve laid so much of ourselves on your altar since The Fallout was born. Sahara, Lucy, and little ol’ me.
(Grace nods, seeming to accept this.)
Elizabeth Gaunt: So much worship. So much pain. But such is God’s will, right? There’s the problem, Gracie. You’re not a God. Never were. Never will be. You’re a controlling, manipulative, and cunning little PARASITE that masquerades as a God. And now that I think of it? You remind me of someone. Maybe you’ve heard of him.
(Elizabeth leans forward, Grace speechless with budding rage.)
Elizabeth Gaunt: His name was Isaac. You remember that guy? That big pale motherfucker that made our lives HELL for months. But thanks to the efforts of your DEVOTED angels…we sent that demon packing. He left town, Gracie. You begged us to take care of it. You implored us to make him go away. So we did. We’ve got the blood, grit, and memories to last a lifetime. Sahara did her part. Lucy did her part. I did my part…with GREAT joy I might add…
(Gaunt stops for a moment and lets her mouth fall agape, a sudden thought entering her mind. She taps the side of temple, that fanged grin growing larger.)
Elizabeth Gaunt: But uhhh…someone didn’t do her part. A certain Fallout member was conspicuous in her absence. You, Grace. You weren’t there when Ivory Ike left town. I’m sure you have some excuse why you weren’t, but lemme tell the world the real reason.
(Grace is FUMING now…her hand reaching down to dig into Alice’s hair, kneading it like a stress ball.)
Elizabeth Gaunt: It’s because Grace Goeren was chickenshit. We all saw what happened the last time the great God Queen tangled with Ivory Ike one vs. one. He wrecked you. He tore you apart. He made it look easy. So you sent us. You sent your angels to do your dirty work…because you were TOO FUCKING SCARED…to do it yourself.
(Elizabeth points an accusatory finger at Grace, and the crowd is going WILD at this scathing exchange.)
Elizabeth Gaunt: I ripped Gates apart at your side. I mutilated Sahara because of your mental twisting. My hands have dripped RED for you, little girl…and tonight that shit comes to a decisive end. I am the WRONG BITCH to be fucking with.
(Liz has moved so close to Grace that their foreheads are pressing together, and Alice is almost foaming at the mouth, just waiting for Grace’s order to launch herself at The White Angel.)
Elizabeth Gaunt: You want The Fallout to live on? Okay. From now on…we’re equal partners. This becomes an alliance of convenience for the both of us. You can forget about fealty. You can let that brainless mule Alice give you the worship that you so desperately crave. I’ve had enough of controlling shitbags ruling my life…and I don’t need another.
(The crowd pops HARD, and Grace Goeren is incredulous at this point, the God Queen almost shocked at the vitriol pouring from her firstborn Angel.)
Elizabeth Gaunt: And if you’ve got probs with that? Maybe it’s time for Grace Goeren…to leave town.
(A dead silence fills the ring, Gaunt staring with defiant contempt at Grace, and Goeren’s lips contorting backwards in a familiar snarl. But suddenly…that snarl splits up into a huge and pleased grin.)
Grace Goeren: Now we’re talking!! Can you believe the big cantaloupe-sized lady balls on this bitch? Lizzie Gaunt…my ride or die! Give it up for her, ladies and germs! That shit was straight FIRE…and Alice, I’m gonna need you to fetch me a little burn ointment after we head to the back.
(Grace fans herself with one hand, playing it up for the crowd.)
Grace Goeren: That’s what I’ve always LOVED about you, Lizzie! You’ve got a spine of pure fucking steel. You’ll break before you ever bend to my will, wont cha? You’re nothin’ like that weak whore Sahara. You don’t spend all day running that cocksucker of a mouth just to hear yourself talk. When Lizzie has something to say…the words come out like wooden stakes aimed right at the heart!
(Grace literally leans back against the ropes and applauds, Gaunt still defiant on her side of the ring, her posture never changing at all.)
Grace Goeren: This was a test, cutie pie. You passed with flying colors! I knew my firstborn wouldn’t let me down. You’ve got Fallout in your blood, just like me. We’re gonna take this thing to entirely new heights together. Alice will follow our lead, yeah? I want strength in my ranks. And I am one PROUD ASS MOMMA BEAR to see what you’ve become!
(Grace beams brightly and actually THROWS her arms around Gaunt in a sisterly hug. Elizabeth does not make any effort to return the embrace. She simply accepts the hug until Grace gets tired of it and steps away while offering her a thumbs up motion.)
Grace Goeren: Let the record show that Elizabeth Gaunt gets a massive A on her report card. Soooo much better than those useless F for Fucktard grades I had to give out to Duane and Sahara. You and me? Totes on the same page!
(‘Chaos Royale’ begins to play again as Grace points at Gaunt, winking at her, before quickly exiting the ring, the monstrous Alice following behind her. Gaunt stares after the God Queen, exiting the ring a few moments later and following behind Grace toward the back.)
MM: I get the feeling that Grace wasn’t expecting that response, folks!
VA: Are you kidding me, Malone? Did you not listen to what her Holiness said to us just a moment ago? It was a test! She needed to make sure that Lizzie wasn’t a turncoat piece of filth like she who shall not be named, and our White Angel passed with flying colors!
MM: Be that as it may, the Fallout reigns supreme here in the EWA, holding two of the three major championshi–
VA: THE major championship, Malone. Grace is the World’s Combat Champion, and don’t you forget it!
MM: (sighs) In any event, it’s now time for our main event of the evening!
Main EventMICHAEL DRAVEN VS INDRID CALDER
NO-DISQUALIFICATION GRUDGE MATCH
Our camera pans backstage, where we see Michael Draven, a grim look on his face, dressed to compete with his ring jacket on. As he walks, we hear the crowd noise slowly begin to increase. He approaches an area with a long table, full of monitors and men sitting around with headsets on, nodding to a couple of them. We suddenly hear the chorus to ‘Hail to the King’ hit as Draven climbs a small set of stairs, walking through a curtain, before our view abruptly changes to ringside, showing the warrior standing on the entrance stage, lit in a dark red hue, head facing down.
DING DING DING!!
NR: The following no-disqualification contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is our main event of the evening! Introducing first, from Charlotte, North Carolina, weighing 247 pounds, he is a member of the Three Kings…MICHAEL…DRAVEN!!
Draven gets a surprisingly warm reception, all things considered, as he stalks toward the ring, taking the ring jacket off on his way down and flinging it at his feet.
MM: A tense confrontation backstage between the EWA’s Combat Champion and Michael Draven, ladies and gentlemen, but right now Draven has other matters to attend to, as he’s about to step into the ring with the man who Maggie McIntyre originally left him to join up with eight months ago. This is eight months in the making, folks.
VA: First of all, it’s the WORLD Combat Champion, Malone, and don’t you forget to add our God Queen, our Lord and Savior, the glorious Grace Goeren. And that’s right, this match has been eight months in the making, and think about this, Malone. Maggie McIntyre left Michael Draven to join HATE, and then in London, apparently left HATE to join back with Michael Draven. The woman changes sides more than a damn politician!
MM: I think it’s more of a matter of true love, Vincent, something I don’t think you’re capable of understanding.
VA: That’s insulting, Malone. I was in love once. I met her at a brothel in…Indonesia? Australia? Somewhere like that. She had this amazing trick with her tongue–I bet Maggie could do it with the split tongue Boden gave her!
MM: And that’s enough of that. Michael Draven’s wanted this match for a long time, ladies and gentlemen, but I doubt he thought it would ever happen under these circumstances!
VA: I will say this, Malone. He looks as focused as I’ve ever seen him…but I don’t think it’s going to matter.
it seems strange that my life should end
in such a terrible place…
And as the haunting opening of Puscifer’s ‘Smoke & Mirrors’ echoes throughout the Combat Zone, we see Indrid Calder stalk out, before the lights even dim out completely. There is no slow, brooding entrance for the Stranger tonight – there’s fury in those deep blue eyes, and an object in his hand, as he walks with a purpose to the ring…
MM: That’s…that’s Maggie McIntyre’s baseball bat! How did he get ahold of that?
VA: I think she left it in the ring in London, Malone…I guess she never grabbed it since?
MM: And Calder has bad intentions in those killer’s eyes, ladies and gentlemen!
Calder slides under the ropes, springing to his feet and rushing Draven with an unbridled, uncharacteristic fury, swinging the bat in an outward arc. But Draven ducks the swing as referee Danny Smith calls for the bell, quickly turning and hitting Calder with a flurry of rights and lefts, driving him back against the ropes. Draven sends Calder – still holding onto the bat – flying into the ropes, but Calder uses his arms to catch him in the ropes, and then darts forward, smashing the bat straight into Draven’s stomach, before bringing it back down again over his back, sending the former CEO crashing to the mat.
VA: That didn’t last long!
Calder, normally cold and calculated in the ring, flings the bat to the mat, savagely grabbing Draven by the hair and dragging him to his feet, before aggressively flinging the man over the top rope and to the floor on the outside. Calder pauses a moment, looking into the camera, almost as if to deliver a message to someone viewing this scene, before dropping to the mat and rolling to the outside of the ring. Calder grabs Draven again, whipping him shoulder first into the steel steps. The Stranger continues to pursue Draven, who’s attempting to crawl away and create some space between the two to allow for recovery time. Calder, however, is having none of that, as he quickly catches up, stomping Draven repeatedly in the ribs before once again dragging him to his feet, sending him racing across the outside ring area and into the steel guardrail on the outside of the ring.
MM: Indrid Calder is a man possessed here tonight, ladies and gentlemen. We’ve never seen this type of anger or ruthlessness from the Stranger before.
VA: Can you blame him, Malone? Maggie was his, and Michael Draven stole her away! The woman shoves him off a ladder and his response is to take her back after beating the hell out of her? This idiot deserves everything he gets from Calder tonight.
Calder grabs a steel folding chair at ringside, slamming it shut, and stomps toward Draven, rearing back with the chair…but before he can bring it down across Michael Draven’s skull, he’s met with a kick to the stomach by the 3K member. Draven begins firing back with a series of punches, before grabbing Calder by the back of the head and ramming him face-first into the steel ringpost!
MM: He could’ve just crushed the Stranger’s nose there!
A bit of hyperbole from Malone, as Calder appears to be fine, but certainly knocked loopy for a moment. Draven mounts Calder on the outside, however, and SMASHES a closed fist directly above the Stranger’s eye, opening a gash that begins to bleed heavily.
MM: This is not a wrestling match, ladies and gentlemen. This is a fight. Two men with bitter feelings toward one another over the allegiance and loyalties of Maggie McIntyre, and they’re settling it in front of our very eyes. This is NOT for the faint of heart.
Draven gets back to his feet, walking around the ring to grab the steel chair that Calder had previously dropped. The 3K member flings the chair over the top rope and into the ring, making his way back to Calder and lifting him to his feet, only to immediately put him back down with a huge forearm to the face. Draven grabs Calder once again, sliding him into the ring underneath the bottom rope, and rolls in himself.
MM: And so far, the defining moment of this fight has been Calder being thrown face first into the steel post, ladies and gentlemen. Draven is now in complete control thanks to that!
Draven grabs Calder, lifting him to his feet and wrapping his arms around Calder’s waist, before lifting him high in the air for a gutwrench powerbomb…only he uses the ropes as a spring, bouncing Calder’s body off of the top rope before slamming the Stranger down to the mat! The crowd roars at the impressive display of strength as Draven wipes sweat from his forehead, then grabs the steel chair and positions it in the center of the ring. He walks over, grabbing Calder by the hair and lowering himself down, so that his face is just inches away from the Stranger’s…our camera is able to pick up Draven’s words as he speaks to his nemesis.
Michael Draven: You lose, Stranger.
And with that, Draven lifts Calder’s head up between his legs, hooking the Stranger’s arms behind his back, and positions Calder’s face directly above the steel chair!
MM: He’s going to drive Calder’s face into that chair with the Downfall!
VA: How is this legal, Malone?!
Draven smirks, holding Calder in place…and then the lights go out.
MM: What the hell?
The Jumbotron suddenly flickers to life, showing nothing but a ragged, tattered visage of a mask. It takes a moment for the eyes to register that it’s actually the twisted mask of Cal Rayner, the Titan of HATE, filling the screen. Draven drops Calder, staring at the screen as the shaky image moves from Rayner’s masked face, to the white-haired Purveyor of HATE, NOTHING, a twisted, sinister grin across his face. The next shot shows West with stern eyes and no trace of a smile on his disfigured jaw. The image, clearly being broadcast by some sort of handheld camera, suddenly distorts, moving wildly around as the hand holding the camera repositions it, before it finally comes to focus on a new image…
…the image of a locker room door – and more specifically, the two prone bodies of the officers posted outside that locker room door, laid out cold at the doorway.
MM: That’s Maggie McIntyre’s locker room! The room Allison Haines was inside earlier! They’re going after Maggie! How sickening!
VA: GET HER, CAL! MAKE HER PAY, PRU AND WEST!!
Draven immediately starts to march forward as the image suddenly shuts off. The lights return to normal, but Draven only makes it a single step forward before a steel chair comes crashing down across his back, dropping him to the mat.
MM: CALDER WITH THE CHAIR!!
VA: Malone…he…he doesn’t even look dazed!
Indeed, save for the stream of blood running down Calder’s face from Draven’s punch, The Stranger suddenly appears to be completely unfazed by the blows he suffered earlier.
MM: Was….was Calder playing possum? Was this all part of the plan?!
VA: HAHAHAHA! This is brilliant, Malone!!!
Calder snaps the chair open and shut as he stares down at the fallen Draven, before lifting it high above his head, bringing it down on Michael Draven’s back! The Stranger doesn’t stop there, though, as he lifts the chair again, sending it crashing down upon the 3K member’s back repeatedly, over, and over, and over, each shot more vicious and aggressive than the last. NOTHING, Rayner, and West show up at the entrance ramp, slowly walking to the ringside area as Calder continues his onslaught of chair shots onto a completely prone Draven.
MM: My god, this is barbaric!
VA: No, Malone. This is justice.
Finally, the steel chair, resembling little more than a twisted heap of metal at this point, is thrown aside. Calder stares down at Draven for a moment, before reaching down, and pulling the 3K member to his knees. Calder slaps the 3K member directly across the face before springing against the ropes, leaping into the air and driving his head into the mat with the curbstomp.
MM: For the Horseman! And Michael Draven never had a chance!
But it’s not over.
Draven tries to crawl to the ropes, but the Stranger sees it. Calder hits the ropes again, stomping Draven’s head into the mat a second time, as a pool of blood begins to form from below Draven’s face. It’s unclear if it’s his nose or mouth that’s bleeding, but even after a second For The Horseman, Michael Draven claws at the mat, trying to find the strength to pull himself up. Indrid grabs the steel chair, sliding it below Draven’s face, and then retreats to the corner, climbing to the second rope as he looks down on Draven.
MM: Oh god, no. Don’t do this, DON’T DO THIS!!
He does it.
Calder leaps off the second rope, smashing Draven’s face into the chair with a third For The Horseman. The Stranger rolls Draven’s limp body over with his boot, and we get a clear look at Draven’s mouth, bleeding from multiple places. Calder places a boot on Draven’s chest for the first – and likely, only – cover of the match.
NR: Here is your winner….INDRID…CALDER!!
YOUR WINNER BY PINFALL: INDRID CALDER (7:44)
As soon as the bell rings Maggie McIntyre sprints out through the curtains and makes a beeline for the baseball bat, her nimble hands scraping it up with a determined expression spreading across her face.
MM: Thank goodness the cavalry has arrived. Draven has found himself in a dark den with a voracious and HATEful lion, and I’m not sure Calder is even close to finished…
Maggie gets a better grip on the bat…but suddenly all the lights in the arena cut out, plunging the Combat Zone into a stygian abyss.
The lights return, and the game has changed for the worse. The towering Titan known as Rayner has Maggie squeezed between his tree limb-sized arms. She struggles valiantly, attempting to use the bat…but then NOTHING makes his presence known and plucks the bat from her hand and tosses it outside of the ring. West seems conflicted to see his close friend Maggie struggling, but once his eyes fall to Draven the scar tissue along his jaw tightens into a scowl. This is the man responsible for her defection from the hive. Draven will pay dearly for that.
Rayner continues to just hold Maggie in place using his ungodly strength, and NOTHING paces back and forth to ensure that she doesn’t break free of the Titan’s grip. West takes up a lookout spot, twirling two kendo sticks in his hands in case Robertson or Haven decide to make an appearance.
VA: Looks like you spoke too soon, Malone! HATE is here. And we all know what happens when the hivemind puts a plan into motion. Violent things. Terrible things.
MM: The entire HATE collective making their presence known…and things are becoming very bleak for Michael Draven.
Meanwhile Calder reaches up to his own face and splays his fingers outward, spreading his blood across his angular cheeks, chin, and brow. His visage becomes almost inhuman, just a scarlet countenance with blazing knife-blue eyes staring outward.
He’s taken a microphone up into his balled fist, and his gaze falls fully on Maggie.
Calder: Make her watch.
Rayner nods and positions Maggie so she is on her knees against the canvas, her head pointed in the direction of Draven’s trembling carcass. NOTHING moves into place as well and holds her head, tilting it so that her eyes have no place to look except directly at Michael Draven. West looks on, his features grim.
MM: I don’t know where this is going, but we need to get someone out here immediately. HATE is becoming feral at this betrayal from McIntyre, and Calder seems intent on some sort of public showing here.
VA: I’m getting chills, Malone. Something about this isn’t right…
Calder has exited the ring and he proceeds to pull out two cinder blocks from beneath the apron area. One is solid and the other appears to be cracked slightly. The Stranger heaves them into the ring, and then he pulls out another odd object. It’s a black wrestling boot, but the outside of the heel and sole seems to be fortified with what looks like a thick layer of stainless steel.
VA: What the hell is The Stranger thinking? Cinderblocks? And that looks like a customized boot of some kind…it’s shining with fresh steel.
Indrid quickly pulls the boot onto his right foot and he rolls back into the ring, pacing back and forth as Draven struggles to roll onto his side. Draven’s face is a ruin, blood bubbling up out of his mouth in weak little sprays.
He seems to be struggling just to breathe…
Indrid crouches down, his head tilting slightly to examine Draven.
Indrid Calder: You’ve galvanized me. The HATE I feel for you…is monolithic. Your actions are fuel for the roaring red machine that is the hive, and an example must be made tonight.
Calder slowly wedges Michael’s right knee beneath one of the cinderblocks, and he places the cracked cinder block overtop of Michael’s leg. He begins to walk backwards towards one of the turnbuckles…taking his time with this.
Indrid Calder: They’ll call themselves 2K once I’m finished, Michael. Because the third King…will be a ragged, ruined cripple that had the GALL to rip away my Banshee.
Indrid has reached the turnbuckles, and he ascends until he’s perched like a hawk across the second ropes. He lords up there from his high ground, those deathly blue eyes aiming for Draven with merciless intentions.
MM: GOOD CHRIST…SOMEONE GET THAT SICK SON OF A BITCH DOWN FROM THERE! Don’t you see what he’s planning to do?? I can’t believe I’m saying this…but Haven…Robertson…ANYONE…get down to this ring and HURRY!
VA: Calder has gone off the deep end. You’ve done enough, Stranger! You’ve bloodied the man…you’ve beaten him…don’t do this. This is too much.
Maggie’s eyes are as wide as saucers across the ring, the irises wet with tears that have yet to spill. She implores Calder to stop, struggling against Rayner’s grip and trying desperately to reach towards Michael. Her emotional cries echo across the ring to bore into Calder’s eardrums.
Maggie McIntyre: Don’t, Indrid! Punish me…not him! He doesn’t deserve this. PLEASE!!!
Calder ignores her cries, the microphone rising once more to crimson-stained lips.
Indrid Calder: Remember the snap, Michael. I want you to hear it in your dreams. It’s the sound of antipathy. It’s a slow crack…and it signifies the breaking of EVERY GOOD FUCKING THING in your miserable life.
Indrid pauses, drawing one last deep breath into his nostrils.
Indrid Calder: I know I’ll remember.
Without another word spoken, Calder tosses the mic to the side and LEAPS into the air as high as he possibly can…BEFORE BRINGING HIS STEEL BOOT DOWN ACROSS THE CEMENT BLOCKS WITH A CURB STOMP THAT SENDS PIECES OF SHATTERED CONCRETE FLYING IN ALL DIRECTIONS!!!!
That telltale SNAP sound invades the arena like a gunshot to the head.
A primal scream of anguish BURSTS out of Draven’s lips, red rubies of blood flying outward, and he reaches down with trembling hands to brush cement from his leg. The cameras zoom in to see a glistening shard of bone protruding up from Michael’s leg just below the knee, the break so horribly severe that Draven’s entire body practically seizes with pain.
Maggie HOWLS in horror, her small figure going limp in Rayner’s arms as the trauma of this sight takes hold.
MM: PLEASE. If anyone is hearing me, get help out here for this man RIGHT NOW. This is not what the EWA is about. This is so terribly wrong. I think I can safely say we’ve just witnessed the end of this young man’s career as a professional wrestler…
VA: For once I gotta agree with you, Malone. Send some damn EMTs out here! Draven has a clear compound fracture. I’ll never forget the sound of these screams for as long as I live…
Calder stands just a few feet away with a blank look dawning in his eyes. He looks to Maggie, his face scrunched and conflicted. He reaches towards her, and the young woman recoils from him immediately. Her face is a mixture of fear, loathing, and sorrow. It’s the face of someone that has just been traumatized to the point of no return.
Indrid Calder: My Banshee?
She shrinks backward, tears flowing down her cheeks in a mixture of salty emotion and black make-up. Calder’s hands reach up to massage his temples. He seems to realize what his impulsive act has done. It has created an unbridgeable chasm between The Stranger and The Banshee. Nothing will ever be the same again.
Indrid looks like a tortured soul, his mind a burning cauldron of emotions that he’s completely unfamiliar with. He doesn’t seem to have the desire to remain in the ring and gloat. He simply nods to Rayner, and the giant releases McIntyre.
Calder rolls out of the ring and begins to trudge up the ramp with his head hung low. He pulls his shroud up over the back of his skull, allowing it to obscure his face. NOTHING, Rayner, and West follow behind him, the fans still in shock over what they just witnessed.
MM: Ladies and gentlemen, I’m so sorry for this. This is one of the most reprehensible acts I’ve ever witnessed as an EWA broadcaster.
VA: I’m at a loss, Malone. Draven has been obliterated at the hands of The Stranger tonight. And the most telling part of it? When Calder looked into Maggie’s eyes and realized what his actions did to her…his shoulders seemed to just slump with regret.
MM: I don’t care what that merciless monster feels…it’s far too late now. The damage is done. Michael Draven…is finished.
The last sight we see is a completely distraught Maggie crawling across the ring and taking hold of Michael’s shivering hand. His leg is bent at an unnatural angle with the bone still exposed. She falls against his chest.
The Banshee weeps.
Her tears mix with the blood of the man she loves…
All that’s left is ruin.
Fade to black.
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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Grady Smith -v- Alexander Haven – Chris Furman
Nikki Caldwell -v- Tanya Black – Gates
Mojo -v- Willmott/Laura – Harlan Heubaum
Ethan Leers -v- The Lemonheads – Val Kyrie
Grace Goeren -v- Chris Kage – Harlan Heubaum
Azrael Goeren -v- Cronos Diamante – Gates
Maggie McIntyre -v- Rachel Ellsworth – Val Kyrie
NOTHING/Cuddihy -v- Pariah – Sean Boden
Michael Draven -v- Indrid Calder – Gates/Jeremy Megargee