All-Star Championship Wrestling

A C W

ASCENSION
COURAGE 116 ¤ 15 JULY 2010
HARTWALL AREENA, HELSINKI, FINLAND

Fade in.
The sounds of upbeat drums mixed with the roaring of guitars.
WHOOHOO!
Stills of Alias standing tall with the ACW World Championship flash repeatedly. Victories over a who’s who of names. Jack Harris, Omega, Sharc, Shawn Jessica Hart, standing over Trey Vincent at the top of a steel cage.
WAKE UP, our life is calling! We're smoking, but not on fire!
Give us a sign that we're alive!
Midnight Cowboy, tipping his hat to the camera, followed by the modern-day hero holding the historic Spirit Of ACW Championship, high into the air for all to see.
STEP OUT of indecision! How we've been hypnotized!
To think that everything's all right!
The lunatic simply known as Omega, with a load of broken bodies in his path. ACW’s reigning King of Extreme holds up the Scorpion Fighting Title in one hand, 'Barb' in the other.
The clock is counting down... The clock is counting down!
The seconds tick away... The seconds tick away!
England’s Best, with Buddy Saxon scoring the winning pinfall over Ed to bring the ACW Tag Team Titles home to the Kingdom. Both men shake hands as a sign of respect. Replaced quickly by a still of Callie Urban and Spike Saunders celebrating their victory over England's Best, and thereby becoming new Tag Team Champions.
This is our time! Without a doubt!
Shawn Jessica Hart blowing a kiss to the camera before laying out several different opponents with the Hart On. Felicia Hart cheering on her brother, uncomfortably enamored with he who won the End Game 2009 Match, beating somebody's ass.
Time to ignite! We're not going down!
(Without a fight)
Keith Scott Zimmerman and his wife, Allison Lindum-Zimmerman. The former hitting Hit My Music on an unsuspecting victim while Allison is shown superkicking some poor guy’s head into the next zipcode.
This is our time! Get up off the ground!
'The Alpha Dog' Mark Weiler, snarling under a head full of ratty black hair while Jack Harris is seen unfolding his arms and clenching his fists tightly. Simon Blythe, Agent To The Stars, smirks and snaps his fingers, cueing his proverbial dogs of war to assault the camera.
Take what is mine! We're not going down,
Without a fight!
Kroenen, flanked by Arkady and Vago on either side, scoffing in the viewer’s direction. You deserve no part of the greatness that The Supernatural SWAT bring.
LET'S GO, the curtain's open! Get this show on the road!
I want to feel my heart explode!
Jade Argent, with a blurred championship belt from another organization, high over his head. Shut your ugly mouths and enjoy the awesome he brings each week.
NO MORE pro-crastination! Tracking my feet below!
Now I want everyone to know!
Jesse Ramey and Khristain Keller battling it out, ending with Ramey delivering the surly fighter an Attitude Adjustment.
The clock is counting down... The clock is counting down!
The seconds tick away... The seconds tick away!
Both Irish Spring and The SOBs, flying around, attacking others from various angles and leaping right into your living rooms.
This is our time! Without a doubt!
Time to ignite! We're not going down!
(Without a fight)
Khristain Keller, arms folded and leaning against a brick wall, ready to punch somebody’s lights out. Let’s get the fuck outta here.
This is our time! Get up off the ground!
Take what is mine! We're not going down,
Without a fight!
Vince Jacobs standing over the bloody Sharc, followed by a visage of spectacular moves from The Reason There Is A Show.
YEAH! COME ON! COME ON! COME ON!
COME ON! COME ON! COME ON!
Ed and Klein, aka the Pop Culture Phenoms, looking their Sunday best. Well, Ed is. Klein’s kind of afraid that a camera is on him right now and starts to visibly hyper-ventilate.
We must pick up the pace! No time to play it safe!
Before you know it's much too late!
SilverHAWK, the General Manager of ACW, sitting behind a desk, snickering with his hands out in front of him.
This is our time! Without a doubt!
Time to ignite! We're not going down!
(Without a fight)
Iceman mouthing his favorite ten-letter word rhyming with 'Jockpucker' before bitchslapping the camera away.
This is our time! Get up off the ground!
John Sarsgaard, the Hands Of Steel, dropping Z with a Hammerlock Back Suplex that got the fans on their feet.
Take what is mine! We're not going down!
Sven Avsbern, delivering a fierce pop-up clothesline to Malk Al-Haq, knocking the latter right out.
Without a fight!
The OG of ACW stands proud, wowing audiences with his incredible, unique offense, taking down opponents from all angles. He winks to the camera and nods with his arms folded, smirking back behind a pair of thick Aviator sunglasses.
FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!
The Caped Crusader himself, Z, winking at the camera before turning his back to the audience and cackling like an absolute madman. Something is clearly up his sleeve. Who *is* he?
FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!
WHOOOOOOOOOOO-hoow... hahaha
And lest we not forget...
TREY VINCENT.
THE SPORTS ENTERTAINMENT ICON. HE WHO OWNS YOUR VERY SOUL~!
Standing atop the mountain as the ACW World Champion.
THIS. IS. COURAGE.
THIS IS.
A.
C.
W.
BROUGHT TO YOU BY SLYSPORTS ENTERTAINMENT, LLC.

Forgotten Kings and Buried Warriors

Carrion held the crimson soaked Black Title aloft, as Jeremy Hunt stood behind him and stared at it. What Hunt had prized was now his, and he now had a true symbol for HIS ACW.
If you could follow the blood dripping from the old black leather belt, you would find the body of the Original Pulp Hero, Alias. But you what you certainly not find is footage of any or all of this on an ACW PPV… for the Heart and Soul of ACW in Alias, was swept away in secret. So it was that this wasn’t as much a flashback or an ACreWind, as much as it was a memory. There Alias’s body lay, white and ashen and soaked in blood, as Hunt took his arm around Carrion and shoved the belt into his chest.
“You’re my sigil-bearer now, you Deathless vulture you, so I expect that you not disappoint.”
“I know what will happen, if I do,” hissed Carrion, and Hunt only nodded in acceptance as his reply.
Soon after the body of Alias would be swept away by faceless men, men paid to do no better things then dispose of the hollow shell of a former Champion. If they had only known what they were doing to ACW…
Well, they would have still dumped the body of the Original Pulp Hero in an unusually hot and humid back alley, in the middle of back alley. As long as they were getting paid, they would have dumped the body of Joseph Stalin in a ditch.
So there Alias lay, dying, dead, alone, in a Moscow back alley… nameless and unknown, save for the black cat by a well kept dumpster. The humming of some kind of machine in the background.

COURAGE 116 unloaded a shitload of fireworks into the warm, dark light of the Finnish sky. To say SilverHAWK looked tired as he walked down the aisle and towards the ring was an understatement. After the shocking heart attack suffered by fan favorite senior referee Henry Irwonsen, during the action of FIGHT NIGHT 2010, and hell… even before that… HAWK’s least favorite night of the year had weighed heavily on his mind and his body.

Not just due to the financial toll it took on ACW, thanks to property damage (one steel chair doesn’t cost much… but five dozen? And that’s skimming the surface), but also the physical toll.

Shawn Jessica Hart had been injured, knocking him from the main event picture he had called his home the last five months.

Sharc had been injured, another victim of Jesse Ramey yes, but also a victim of his own damned will. The man had kept fighting, even after having several vertebrae dislocated.

And Alias… ACW had yet to hear from Alias. Which was almost par for the course with the Pulp Hero… but something just FELT incredibly off with that implication, especially after a night like FIGHT NIGHT.

Still those three names off the top of SilverHAWK’s head, was again, just skimming the surface. So, as HAWK entered that ACW ring, which had now been faithfully reconstructed with a week to work with, into what the old one may have looked like… might have felt like, before being burnt to a cinder… the General Manager of ACW had a big announcement for ACW.

“Finland,” Oh don’t you love a cheap pop?, “Thank you for being the first stop in a NEW age of ACW. And I don’t just say new because of the ring I stand in, or new because of the order I will work to restore… oh no, I say new… because what’s old, is going to be new again.”

SilverHAWK winked to the crowd, as he paced the ring, and a murmur went up among the ACW faithful.

“In 2003, Khristian Keller capped off his unprecedented rise to stardom with a shocking win over 'Superstar' Vince Jacobs… and won himself a World title shot in the process. In 2004, God’s Forgotten Son would go on to beat Quinton May for the United States Title in what many call ACW’s Match of Year that year.

These two matches were finals… finals to a tournament…

That TOURNAMENT… was the KING OF AGES…

And starting THIS week, for the first time in six years, it RETURNS!”

Once again the Finnish massive struck a huge cheer around the arena as the King of Ages logo was now splashed across the SlyTron.

“But it won’t be the same sixteen-man, twenty-man, tournament that you might remember… no, because with inspiration from the recently capped World Cup, King of Ages will prove to be a tournament like no other in professional wrestling.

First, we will take the top twenty wins and losses records, replacing those who are unable to compete… and those twenty men and women will compete in a QUALIFIER BATTLE ROYALE. All twenty all-stars will start in the ring, and the last ten standing? They’ll make up the brunt of the tournament. The winner… he’ll receive an automatic bye into the semi-finals of the play-offs.

And that KING OF AGES QUALIFIER BATTLE ROYALE is taking place in tonight’s main event!”

SilverHAWK strode around proudly as he got his federation back in full swing.

“Even the winner of tonight’s match won’t be able to rest during MATCHPLAY, however, because if they want the first seed as opposed to the second seed, they’ll have to fight just the same as everyone else. Starting next week, each of the ten KoA participants will fight in three matches, and there record those matches will earn them a position in the KoA top ten rankings… and most importantly determine how they’re seeded for the King of Ages play-offs as we march towards the King of Ages finals at the PPV in Stockholm, Sweden!

The playoffs though, I’ll let you all know more about when the time comes during COURAGE 119… because before we get too deep into what we have planed for that, I want to tell you what’s up for grabs.”

SilverHAWK peered into the lights above him and looked in deep thought, probably a little excited about the upcoming tournament which was yet another show stealer for ACW.

“It won’t simply be a championship title shot, or a championship title itself… no, even though both of those things are DAMN valuable… what the winner of King of Ages gets…

Is the King’s Choice. It is the choice to do ANY ONE THING in ACW. Anything.”

In a single second, ectasy turned into hatred as SilverHAWK's attention was taken to the top of the rampway, where Jeremy Hunt, SlySports executive and all round arsehole stood with a microphone in handle.

“Wow HAWK, the power to do any ONE thing. That is the power that nobody around here should have...oh but I already do don't I? And admittedly, it’s quite something.”

HAWK sneered at the man who had been trying to replace him for the past arc... if he had only been a little younger he would have sprinted up that ramp and showed Hunt a thing or do.

“Watch your step, we’re not stuck in the middle of the former Soviet block anymore, Hunt! This is my show and we are gonna go by my rules!”

The fans in Finland were right behind one man and one man only... but unfortunetly he didn't hold all the cards anymore.

“Maybe… but you still underestimate my power in ACW, these days, HAWK. And to prove it? I’d like to announce the opening match for tonight!”

Suddenly the fans were taking a little interest in what Hunt had to say, as HAWK was irrate.

“What’re you getting on about Hunt?”

“For the fans!”

SilverHAWK said nothing in reply, what could Hunt do anyway?

“A World Championship match! Trey Vincent versus the one of the men whom he defeated at COURAGE COUNTDOWN TO DISASTER… Keith Scott Zimmerman! And yes, it’s happening… right now!”

Holy. SHIT! He could do that.

And just like that, King of Ages had been put on the back burner for a hot second… because the hottest opener of ACW’s history was about to hit the shores of Finland.

New Moon

But before KSZ and Trey Vincent did battle, a quick trip backstage...

"This is f*cking bullsh*t..."

The words were forced out through gritted teeth. The rage was definitely expected by Kroenen, as he knew the type of person that existed underneath the stitched and blood-splattered wolf mask.

"It is not up for debate, Arkady."

Not intimidated by the lycan's growing rage, Kroenen crossed his arms behind his back and watched his ally pace back and forth before him. One couldn't blame him for not being concerned, as the monstrous Vago lurked behind him.

"I should be competing in that Battle Royale tonight," Arkady growled and glared at the Nazi-like ringleader of the SS.

"You got far more zhan enough combat at FIGHT NIGHT," Kroenen replied sharply and stood his ground. "You vere given instructions to stick vith us and you blatantly ignored them. Ve should have been basking in zhe blissful anarchy ensuing around us, as zhere vas safety in numbers. Should one of our names had been chosen, ve vould have been safe. Yet, you chose to go off on your own once again. Your rebellious streak vill no longer be tolerated. You follow commands or you vill be spending a lot of time at zhe hotel. If it comes down to it, you'll even be sent back to vhere you came from."

Arkady took a step back and lowered his eyes, letting his mind assess the situation.

"Now, do vhat you are told and head back to zhe hotel."

"You know what?" Arkady asked aloud and started unlacing his stitched up and blood-splattered wolf mask.

Even the usually stone-faced Vago was taken back by the Russian's actions. Within seconds, the mask was removed and shaggy blond hair kept his face a secret. Arkady's hand displayed the mask, bringing up to Kroenen's face before dropping it to the floor. There were no words to describe the fury written on Kroenen's face, as he watched the events unfold. A flick of his head launched the hair out of his face and he looked to his teammates. His surprisingly ruggedly handsome face was seen by all, even getting a strong reaction from the ladies in the crowd, who were watching on the tron.

"It's about time I prove that you need me more than I need you... I quit."

SINGLES MATCH - ACW WORLD TITLE
Keith Scott Zimmerman vs. Trey Vincent ©
REFEREE: PAIGE ALLEN

There stood Tommy Vale.

In the same general area, there stood Paige Allen.

There in the sound system played Kim Thayil.

And here in Finland, the fans went apeshit over the familiar opening chords of "My Wave". Purple pyro began to fall upon the stage, and out came the resident power couple of ACW to a standing ovation. Allison Lindum-Zimmerman was a couple steps behind her husband, who was marching to the ring finishing taping up his wrists before throwing the spool to his wife, who threw it under the ring as he marched up the steps. The back of his shirt, yellow bold on black with a hissing cobra on the front of it, said it all:

STRIKE FIRST
STRIKE HARD
NO MERCY

KSZ entered the ring after his wife, and uncharcteristically stood upon the second rope looking out at the crowd to fuel their cheering even more as Allison stood and admired her hubby. Keith jumped down then walked to the opposite corner and stood with his arms overhead before making a motion of a title around his waist, then turned and sat on the top turnbuckle staring out at the rampway. Allison was whispering something to him from the apron but his green eyes were focused steel; it was unknown whether she was in his ears at all.

But I'm Bad was.

Follow me to your own demise and just drink this poison down
I'll make an offer you can't refuse, the devil's coming to town
I'll steer you wrong and let you know that all that glitters gold...

And out strutted the ACW World Champion himself, MR. Trey Vincent. Kneeling on the stage he encouraged the wave of boos that fell upon him, before shaking his head and straightening the strap on his shoulder before coming down to ringside, flirting with the attractive Finns in the audience and scoffing at the ugly, ugly men before entering the ring and circling it in a small jog, the belt proudly overhead before he locked eyes with Zimmerman. Keith remained unresponsive, and Trey just scoffed, slowly backing into the opposite corner so Tommy could make the announcement, Paige checking Keith for illegal objects.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the following match, scheduled for one fall, has a thirty minute time limit and is for the ACW WORLD! CHAAAAAAAAAAAMPIONSHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!" A consensus YAY! for that.

"Introducing first, the challenger: accompanied to the ring by Allison Lindum-Zimmerman, out of Berkeley, California weighing in at 213 pounds...

KEITH!

SCOTT!

ZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMERMAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!"

Another ovation. Keith's reaction was to whip off his shirt, then point at Trey and make a throat-slashing motion.

Charming.

"And to my right..." Boo, sayeth the crowd. "out of Minneapolis, Minnesota, weighing in at 260 pounds, the REIGNING and DEFENDING ACW WORLD! CHAAAAAAAAAAAMPION....TREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY VINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNCENNNNNNNNT!"

The ever-defiant king of ACW's hill replied to his arena of detractors by raising the belt overhead, smiling cockily at Keith before lowering the belt. He smiled as he looked at it, gave it a quick shining up, and handed off to Paige, who held up the belt to all sides of the arena as Trey checked out her ass all 4 times before she handed it off to Tommy. Keith's boots walked to the center of the ring, and he looked up at his rival. Vincent looked down on him with disdain, sneering.

"I can't wait to be done with you." grumbled Trey to Keith. Zimmerman's eyes, former steel, now blinked. His stomach moved back and forth, and his jaw dropped.

...the ACW World Championship match was starting with laughing.

No, seriously.

Trey's face turned as if he smelled a fart, and he looked at Paige, who's only response was a shrug. "What? What the hell? What's so goddamn funny, Keith!?"

Zimmerman slowly lifted his head, and took some moisture out of his eyes with his index fingers. "You know what, Trey? I was thinking the EXACT SAME THING."

And then the laughter ended.

CHOP!
"WHOO!"

And the fight was on.

CHOP! CHOP! Paige called for the bell, but the man who had some of the stiffest knife-edges in the game was setting Trey back on his heels right from jump, and ZImmerman decided to press his advantage by whipping Trey into the ropes. Since Trey was more than half a foot taller and nearly 50 pounds heavier, this didn't work, and Vincent effortlessly reversed KSZ into the ride. Up came the right leg of Trey to kick Keith in the face, but Zimmerman ducked under it and kicked the back of Trey's left knee with venom. Vincent hissed as the blow connected, then Keith followed it up with a front kick to the same knee. Using his superior power, Trey managed to shove Keith into the corner.

The ring shook upon Zimmerman's back impacting. The World Champion moved in for the kill, but his splash caught nothing but corner. Gasping for breath, Trey turned just in time to see Keith on the apron but too late to do anything about it.

Jumping up to grab Trey's head, Keith snapped him down in a hangman and Trey recoiled back into the ring. You know what they say: speed kills. And with a quickness, the former Action! Bantam champion slid into the ring before proceeding to stomp on Trey's left kneecap and thigh. Keith was setting his feet and measuring each stomp, and this was all fine and good until Trey used his right leg to kick Keith in the chest. The force of it sent Keith sprawling through the top and middle ropes, but Keith managed to land somewhat safely onto the apron. Trey charged, but Keith slingshot into the ring over Trey's back and ran into the ropes before coming off and dropkicking Trey in the left knee, and Vincent went down in a heap to the approval of the Helsinkians. (?)

Wheeling to his feet, Keith again ran for the ropes before drilling Trey in the temple with a basement dropkick. COVER!

One.

Trey still managed to press him off pretty good. Keith's face twitched in a sign of nerves, but he quickly managed to swallow it. Zimmerman ran up to the corner, and perched himself on the second rope, waiting on Trey to get in position so he could drop him once again.

SECOND ROPE FLYING LAREXPLODER!
"OHHHH!"

And in one emphatic T-Bone suplex, there went Keith's advantage. Trey had picked him off clean in one gesture and practically taken two inches off his height in the next with that suplex. Vincent cracked his knuckles as he began to try to shake off the effects of the Zimmerman attack, before cinching up the black-and-gold clad KSZ. Trey hissed, but soon Zimmerman was in the air as Trey slammed his guts onto the top rope with a front suplex before taking a step back and delivering a swinging neckbreaker!

The crowd oohed and aahed, then remembered the stakes and booed as KSZ's neck slammed into the mat with authority. A cocky smile appeared on TV's face as he continued to massage his left knee.

"That's why Trey Vincent is the World Champ right there!'

Nobody cheered, somehow. But Trey with a cover anyhow--

--two count. Trey shook his head in sadness, before bringing Keith to his feet.

POW!

Right hand from Vincent, and down went Zimmerman in a heap. The crowd booed again as the World Champion shook his aching fingers and ignored the admonition of Ms. Allen. "Oh, I clouted him but good with THAT one!" smiled Trey. "The little bridge troll gaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Zimmerman, from his back, kicking at the left leg again, and Trey shut him down with a hard boot to the face, then a second, third, and a fourth. Mustering up a rally, Trey picked up Keith and threw him into the ropes, before elevating Keith high into the air. Then he let him drop.

It suddenly occured to Keith this was going to suck, and suck BAD.

BOOM!

Zimmerman groaned and clutched at his stomach while Trey merely pointed to his head and fell onto a knee in his familiar pose, absorbing more heat than a Vegas summer. Vincent got to his feet, pointed down at Keith, and then replicated the thumb-across-the-throat gesture he'd gotten before the match started. As Zimmerman struggled to get back to his feet, Vincent's gesture told the story: I'm one move away from ending this. Come on, little man.

He did.

CLIFFHANGelbow to the face, elbow to the face, elbow to the throat forced Trey down upon a knee, and from there, Keith knew exactly what to do to turn the bout in his favor. Hooking Vincent's head, he ran for the ropes--

KSZDT!

Cover!

Two count.

Keith was disappointed, but not surprised. (Germans probably have a word for that.) He took a couple of seconds to ask Paige about the count, but then gestured for her to move out of the way so that he could go back on the high-flying attack. Zimmerman drew himself to his full stature--and Trey Vincent popped up, and shoved him off the second rope down to the apron. The crowd cringed at the sudden impact, but the ACW World Champion had barely begun to set the table as he walked out onto the apron behind a stunned and disoriented Zimmer.

KSZ was trying to get his bearings, but Trey quickly put an end to that idea.

Oh, man, did he.

DDT INTO THE APRON!

Trey landed on the floor, and immediately cleaned the dust from his hands, smiling and laughing to beat the band as Zimmerman's feet kicked out in pain while he was on his chest, barely inside the ring and barely functioning. The replays fired off as Trey pointed to his head, full of brilliance and insight.

"How do you like that, you pale idiotic dumbfucks!?" Well, he wasn't the World Champion of eloquence or anything. Vincent arrogantly strode up the steps as Allison looked on with worry, Trey entering the ring and relaxing in the corner. That only lasted a second before he ran forward and punted Keith in the stomach, sending The Only Wrestler That Matters sprawling on his back. KSZ coughed, and Trey ran forward to follow it up before pausing. A wide gleam was on his face, and soon he was on top of Keith in the dominant position, raining down some piston-quick right hands upon Zimmerman's face. Paige was admonishing Trey about the closed fists but he didn't break before a long four-count, then covered Keith by pinning down his arms.

One.

Two.

Nope. As the replays of the apron DDT showed, Trey looked down at his fist. It was now a little red, and KSZ's forehead was starting to bleed from that impact. "C'mon, little man." taunted Vincent. "This all you got with your big chance?" He playfully kicked Keith in the head before bringing him to his feet.

CHOP! "WHOO!" CHOP! "WHOO!" Trey went to thumb Keith in the eye, but Keith blocked it with his forearm and then? CHOP! CHOP!
Keith was beginning to get his bearings back, some very, very bad news as far as the champion was concerned, and the crowd once again rallied, the sound of flesh-on-flesh echoing throughout the arena CHOP! CHOP!. Vincent was staggered and Keith ran for the ropes SCRUB-BUSTER!

Drilled with the Vincent spinebuster, the champion smoothly transitioned into a pinfall with the leg hooked and all.

One.

Two.

Thr--kickout.

Trey's plan to beat Keith stupid was hitting on all cylinders, but Keith was proving to be an especially difficult fly to swat. Shaking his head at Zimmerman's stubborn streak, Trey slapped his hands together quickly to indicate to Paige her count needed quickening. Bringing up the bloody Zimmerman, Trey whipped Keith into the rop--no, he didn't, he brought him back to his own body and the crowd groaned as TV drilled KSZ with a sweet belly-to-back suplex. Nodding now, Trey gave Keith's fallen form a quick slap before raising his fist in the air. The crowd booed lustily, and Trey's slow head shake was only for a quick couple of seconds.

Then he was bouncing off of the ropes.

Then he was CRACKYEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH~!

Then he was taken off of his feet as all 213 pounds of the black-and-gold bullet of Keith Scott Zimmerman throwing his entire body in a missile towards Trey's left leg, and while the World Champion had recovered, it was quickly apparent he hadn't recovered enough. A battered KSZ drew himself up to his feet, and then ran for the ropes before the transmission echoed yet again with a CRACK!

Rolling koppu kick connects! The heel of KSZ's boot had caught Trey square in the jaw, and as he fell groggily between the ropes, Zimmerman saw a golden opportunity to etch his name on the World Championship. Paige could see it in his eyes and the crowd buzzed as Keith began to bring Trey in and set him up. Vincent began struggling, hoping that he could push off--or even better, backdrop Keith out to the floor.

Then KSZ slammed a forearm into the back of his head, a second, third, fourth, fifth, the crowd merrily counting along as he hit a sixth, seventh, eighth, and then drilled it.

Suspended DDT.

A fire was in KSZ's eyes now, and Allison was banging on the mat as the crowd ovated and Keith got to his feet, wiping blood from his eyesight. His arms went up to his shoulderblades to the biggest cheer of the night.

The straps? Oh, they were down, my friends. And Keith began entreating Trey, who seemed to be knocked for a loop and then some. The smile on KSZ's face said it all: I'm one move away from ending this. THE move. Kiss it goodnight, tubby.

I say, Trey Vincent?

How's about you HIT MY MUSIC!

"No."

...

...I'm sorry, what?

"I said no."

Uhh....wha...uhh...what do you want to do instead?

TURNBUCKLE POWERBOMB!

The crowd gasped at Trey's countering Keith's signature maneuver, but in the process Trey had also wiped out Paige, who'd been in a neutral corner to ironically avoid this sort of contact. But Zimmerman was in a heap, and Paige was too, and the one man standing was Trey Goddamn Vincent, YOUR ACW World Champion. The same man who was rolling out of the ring. He looked around, then shoved Tommy Vale down and grabbed what was his: the title. Trey slammed his fist into the belt, then proceeded to re-enter the ri--re-enter the--

Allison was pulling on the title. Trey tried pulling back, then decided "hell with it" and stepped out to the floor.

PIMPSLAP! The crowd erupted in jeers as Trey's backhand dropped Allison like a bad habit, but far from stopping his Chris Brown, Trey Vincent had decided his path of rage was incomplete.

Tragically for Keith Scott Zimmerman, he never saw it coming.

BELT SHOT!

The challenger melded into the canvas as Trey folded up the title and slid it into a neutral corner, falling onto Zimmerman with an overly dramatic flop and a hook of the leg as a groggy Paige saw Keith's shoulders down.

ONE.

TWO.

THREKICKOUT! And them Helsinki ACW loyalists went bonzo. Trey's eyes were wide, and Cardinal was losing it on the commentary. And through it all, a slumped Allen's two fingers in the air, the same three syllables were now ringing in the ears of TV: KAY ESS ZEE! KAY ESS ZEE! KAY ESS ZEE! KAY ESS ZEE! The blood was pumping out of Zimmerman's forehead, but more importantly there was enough of it in his shoulder to muster out. Wiping down the lower half of his jaw, Vincent went back to the corner to grab the championship, but upon seeing Paige get to her feet fully, Trey decided to forget that plan of action and immediately went back on the attack.

And so did Keith, kicking Trey square in his injured leg. Vincent crumbled to the canvas as Zimmerman staggered away, using the ropes for support. His eyes were barely visible at this point, but they were laser focused on Trey. Allison was beginning to stir on the outside, and Keith ran forward.

Trey caught him, and yelled out "FUCK YEAH!" as 473 pounds of wrestling went flying towards the center of the ring, landing with an emphatic thud.

CLIFFHANGER!

ONE!

TWO!

THREENO! Trey's jaw was swinging so low a car could've driven through it, and Cardinal was now yelling to make himself heard. "I don't believe it," muttered Jimmy Reid. "I don't fuckin' believe it." Trey was staring in out and out disbelief, switching off between Keith's fallen body and Paige's peace sign in the air saying that the uranage slam still hadn't gotten the job done. And now, another factor was about to interject herself into the fray.

Allison pulled herself up with the outside of the ropes, then got on the apron, and now Paige had to put out that fire and quit dealing with Trey's haranagues.

All in all?

It's the exact perfect moment one looks for when they want to jam the fuck out of their opponent's eye with their thumb. Vincent was yelling, screaming, and immediately began to stagger around the ring howling out in pain. Allison dropped down from the apron, and Paige dove out between the ropes to avoid the wildly careening Vincent. As it was, this gave the ladies the best seats in the house as Keith ran forward and chop-blocked Trey, the Champion howling in pain as he went down to the canvas. His left leg was fucked, he knew it, and more importantly, Keith and the curtain of blood he was carrying knew it too.

With a yell, Zimmerman's feet left the canvas and he double-stomped Trey right in the knee. KSZ fell down upon completion, but it was by the ropes and he used them to pull himself up, leaning back against them as Paige got back inside the ring. Trey willfully, pridefully, drew himself up to his feet. Zimmerman's arms left the confines of the ropes, and he was flying through the air once again.

Help me with this crossword, can you? Clue here is five letter synonym for cocaine synonymous with plumbers.

What?

Wazzat?

You said?

CRACK!
MURDERDEATHKEITH!

For a second, Trey Vincent's body was still. A perfect tower. And then the framework gave way, and he collapsed on his back. Adrenaline was fueling Keith on now, and he could feel it surging through every inch of his body as he stood over Trey's fallen form, looking at his archrival before raising a fist in the air. The ovation was towering, and KSZ couldn't even feel the blood running out of his body.

Then he was bouncing off of the ropes.

BIG

TIME

FIST

DROP!?

CONNECTS! Paige Allen, count that man down!

ONE!

TWO!

THREKICKOUT!

Keith's attempt to utterly humiliate Trey had failed, even if he did clout him upside the head with his fist. Zimmerman shook his head, sad the match hadn't ended but still a corner of him remained upbeat. He still had it in his arsenal. A move that'd dropped seemingly everybody on the roster and a few that weren't anymore: former champions in all four divisions had fallen at the hands of his signature move, and as long as he smacked Trey in the face with that...

...well, even Trey Fucking Vincent would be stilled for a three-count.

Keith stomped angrily on the mat, Allison banging along the rhythm with her fists, and Trey Vincent's face and head wondered what it had ever done to this little piranha to piss him off so damn much. Paige looked on as Trey got to his feet even slower than he had a few seconds ago, but the moment he did, Keith was leaping through the air to capitalize.

I say, Trey Vincent?

How's about you HIT MY MUSIC!

The roof damn near blew off the building, and into that good night went Trey Vincent.

ONE!

TWO!

THRENOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Paige stopped her count, and Keith stared at her agog, before seeing where her two fingers were pointing:

Trey Vincent, against all odds, had gotten his foot on the bottom ropes. Allison spat angrily on the floor as Keith held up three fingers.

"I can't believe it!" yelled Cardinal "Trey's still in this!"

"I CAN BELIEVE IT!" said the man formerly known as "The One". "Look at Trey fight! What a heart of a champion!"

"FOCUS, KEITH!" yelled Allison. He looked at her, and then back at Paige, and then stood himself to his feet. Trey's vision was beginning to clear, and as he used the ropes to pull himself up he began blinking his vision into something close to 85%. He could make out Allison--Paige was in front of him now--wait, wait, wait, where the fuck was Kei

SECOND ROPEHIT! MY! MUSIC!

Was this it? Zimmerman's arm covered Trey's chest.

ONE!

The crowd cheered as Paige's arm drew back again.

TWO!

This count is taking forever thought the three firing brain cells in Keith's head. FASTERFASTERFASTE

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

And just like that, ACW history was made. The crowd erupted so loudly, it was if Soundgarden wasn't even playing over the PA.

And in the middle of the ring, Keith Scott Zimmerman rolled to his knees, let his weary hands rest upon them, and let out the scream of joy of a lifetime, Allison quick to run in the ring and embrace him.

"HERE IS YOUR WINNER, AND THE NEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW---"

Paige walking towards the couple with a smile on her face, and the belt in hand. Something in Keith broke. He began crying as Paige extended the strap, fingertips touching it before Paige smiled and put it in his hands, Zimmerman's eyes widening before his arms fell and he fell down onto the mat, onto the title, his entire body evidently racking with sobs of joy. Allison began sniffling herself at this point, Paige just quietly looking on as the crowd's ovation continued and Keith continued sobbing.

"We did it, baby." she murmured, in a voice so low only three people could hear it.

"We did it."

Keith's head came away from the title, and he leaned his head into Allison's shoulder, the two of them embraced as though nothing could fall. He kissed her on the cheek, and got back to his knees.

"Curtain call?" was all he could muster, and he got to his feet and Allison to hers, both women lifting up the arms of the new ACW World Champion, who soon after began to pound his chest before running up to a corner and standing on the second rope, title held overhead, the culmination of a dream realized.

Trey Vincent staggered up the rampway, going through the side of the stage towards the medics.

And in the ring, Keith Scott Zimmerman climbed up another turnbuckle, lifted the--his--ACW World Championship overhead before pointing to the fanbase.

He was succinct and to the point. For once.

"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII DID IT! YES!"

WINNER: Keith Scott Zimmerman via PINFALL; becomes NEW ACW World Champion!

had to happen

It would be fair to say that everyone in the Hartwall Areena was equal parts stunned and jubilant.

Those watching at home? Also fairly surprised. What an opening match. Drama of the highest order. After managing to fend off three challengers at COURAGE COUNTDOWN TO DISASTER, many expected Trey Vincent to last the year as ACW World Champion. Alas, Keith Scott Zimmerman finally managed to beat his newest nemesis and claim the top prize in all of wrestling.

Backstage, in front of the uber fancy COURAGE backdrop, stood Jenna McMullen. Mouth agape. Clearly, something she does very often, hur hur hur. But seriously, her expression summed up the general feeling across the universe: KSZ had just beaten Trey Vincent in a possible MOTY contender, and this fourth arc of ACW's travels across the European continent was off to a rather blockbuster start.

"... I... Uh, hi!" Jenna stammered before finally composing herself. "Ladies and gentlemen, I apologise. I'm just a little bit rattled. But just to confirm what we all have seen, here's the scoop.

Keith Scott Zimmerman, is the new ACW World Champion! Of the WORLD! Wow!

... Which kinda makes this interview a bit awkward. Because my guest at this time is actually one of Trey's friends."

Hold up. Trey Vincent has friends? Really?

Oh wait, he does. Remember? The ally he made on COURAGE 115? The person he hung out with at FIGHT NIGHT 2010 until those last 20 (famous) minutes? Yeah, it's all clicking in your head now, innit?

A single alphabet is all it takes: Z!

And it went without saying (?) that the Caped Crusader was a wee bit upset. "Awkward indeed, Jenna. This is saddening news! Trey isn't the World Champ any longer! Darn. I'm truly sad, because Trey knew how to *be* a World Champ, and he deserved to be the World Champ for all the work he's done over the last six months or so. Man oh man, this sucks.

Then again, I've made no secret about being an admirer of Keith Scott Zimmerman's talents. Keith is truly one of the BEST wrestlers that exists today. And hey, he won that match fair and square. Can't fault him for that. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is this: congratulations to you, Keith. Trey? Don't be sad. I'ma make sure I cheer you up tonight, once the show ends.

After all, Jenna, Trey losing the World Title to Keith? It had to happen."

Z shook his head, obviously still reeling from what had happened. Jenna, however, was a tad bit confused.

So, she decided to un-confuse herself. "You mean it had to happen... sooner or later? That's what you meant, yes?"

"No, I meant it HAD to happen. Tonight." Z responded quickly and rather casually, which only made Jenna frown. What the what was the Masked Enigma driving at, exactly?

Before she could press on, the distraught form of Trey Vincent staggered along, and Z quickly rushed over to catch Trey in his arms before the FORMER World Champion dropped to the floor. Trey was beyond himself; he wasn't crying. Actually, he looked as if he was still in la-la land. Bastard referee Mark Shields and Z's gargantuan Mongolian bodyguard Kesavan popped up to collect Trey from Z.

The Caped Crusader leaned in and whispered some instructions to the two members of his inner circle. Jenna looked on curiously, but in an instant, Shields and Kesavan were escorting Trey Vincent away. Perhaps to indulge in some hooker action, although Helsinki isn't really the prostitute capital of the world.

"What was that about? Is Trey okay?" Jenna asked like the nosey bitch that she was.

Z smiled for the first time that evening and held his hands up. "He'll be fine. I hope. I just had my guys bring Trey to his locker-room to relax for a while. Look, Jenna, I know we had an interview planned and all. I recall you wanting to know WHY I did what I did at COURAGE COUNTDOWN TO DISASTER, as it pertained to my showdown with John Sarsgaard.

I'll have to reschedule. Say, next week? Truth be told, I have a busy night tonight. Also, I just got word that I'll be involved in the Battle Royale tonight... so I have to go do some stretches and exactly six jumping jacks to get ready. Good thing I didn't actually compete in the Scorpion Fight Night Challenge two weeks ago, eh? I'm the most well-rested guy on the ACW roster. Ha!

I gotta run. Catch you next week, sweetheart."

With a wink and a nod, Z scampered off into the shadows to do what he needed to do. Leaving Jenna all alone.

COURAGE 116 was barely an hour old, and yet, there had been a lot of talking points. Yes, indeed.

"Okay. Sooo, commercials?" Jenna asked, shrugging her shoulders. Yes, Jenna. Time for commercials. Lord knows we need a break.

Considering everything else that's slated to come up. Heh heh heh.

C O M M E R C I A L S

Little Red Rock n' Roll Hood and the Kingdom's Keeper

"Well if I had Irish eyes, they'd be smiling, but luckily enough I was born with a pair of English eyes. And what do they behold... but Aria Murphy. Thought I was never going to see you on tour."

Rud Albion couldn't help but smile, as he eyed the recent graduate of ACW's Academy. Murphy hadn't changed one bit since her time in LoC either, and that was all the better for the ACW faithful.

"It's good to see at least one familiar face," Aria replied with a grin. She wasted no time in tossing her Metal Mulisha backpack aside to embrace her friend. "With how my luck has been, I was expecting much worse waiting for me."

"I admit, the place can be a bit inhospitable at times." Albion grinned, as he pointed out the chunk missing in his ear, "What's in your plans for tonight?"

Once adjusting her black Metallica tanktop, Aria informed Albion as to why she came, "I'm actually scouting. I made a promise to someone close to me and finding the right person is the first step in achieving the goal, as I may not be able to do it by myself."

England's Own knew there was a reason he had wanted to grab a cup of water, and it wasn't just to run into Aria, but also, "Scouting you say? Sounds like you've joined up with something big? You working for someone outside of ACW? And even then... you have me wondering if you could be anymore vague with me."

Albion couldn't help but give AM a sly wink.

"Don't you worry your little head about it," Aria chuckled and did the whole mess up the hair bit on Albion, which would have annoyed him if it didn't make him bend over and get an eye-full of her perfect cleavage. "I'll tell you that it's nothing like the stuff that normally goes on here. I'm not hired by anyone or looking to overthrow the company. I'm just gonna make sure people enjoy their lives."

"Then you are still tops in my book, Ms. Murphy," and Albion wasn't just saying that because of the eye full of cleavage. He was a Gentlemen Grappler if nothing else.

"Well, thank you, kind sir," Aria said in a mock English accent with a curtsey, causing both to chuckle.

"You're tip top to me as well, mate." I just don't see enough people being thankful for what they have and that is a true injustice."

"Quite agreed. People take far too much for granted in believing they've rightfully inherited the finer things in life the moment they walk out into the area and into the squared circle. When truly it's much more about the hard work and determination of the moment. In my time as ACW Tag Team Champion, I ran into the worst of the worst... but even then... there's more out there. More to fight for."

With Albion going on a long-winded speech about the horrors of being a champion, Ariad couldn't help but notice a newly discovered devilishly handsome Arkady walking towards them.

"Yeah," she replied to her English pal, but his words slowly lowered in volume until they were no longer heard. The royal blue eyes of the Russian wolf peered through his shaggy blond hair and locked onto Aria's dark brown eyes. A blink brought the staring match to an end and Arkady pulled his grim reaper-like hood over his head.

Aria took a moment to mull over something in her head and clear it out immediately after. Her focus returned and she looked back to Albion who had paused and crossed his arms with a Spock-like raising of one eyebrow.

"Lost you didn't I?" Then he nodded towards the departing Arkady with a polite smile, "You seemed to have found something though."

"Perhaps..."

VETO... no more?

”GOOD MORNING MR. ARGENT, WOULD YOU LIKE SOME K?”

“Starfuckers Inc” by Nine Inch Nails was in full flow as the arena danced in the silver twilight of JADE ARGENT’s ring entrance. The Australian Opportunist stood at the top of the ramp with his arms outstretched of his body. He stood on the stage with Ira Cohn, Rhyme and Reason. The Helsinki fans gave the King of the Cruiserweights and mixed reaction as he and his entourage walked down to the ring.

Standing on the apron looking out into Hartwall Areena, Argent grinned his wide white smile and snapped his fingers shut in the air before theatrically stepping into the ring. He stood in the middle of the ring as Ira handed him a microphone.

“Tonight I have an important announcement for everyone here. As of FIGHT NIGHT 2010, VETO is no more.” Jade said as he looked around the arena to a minimal pop from the fans.

“VETO was my brainchild to combat Hunt and those stupid fighting rules when this company was built on wrestling pure and simple. But I guess I should have known that getting two large egos to join up for my cause was going to end badly.”

Jade walked around the ring looking out to the fans.

“Max Danger and Vince Jacobs two of the biggest stars in this business…” Jade paused for a few seconds.

“…five years ago.” Jade gave a little smirk as some fans in the area laughed.

“You see I knew this was going to end because of one man’s actions. And that man is the so called Superstar, Vince Jacobs.”

Small pop from some fans.

“A few weeks ago at COURAGE COUNTDOWN TO DISASTER, we decided to give you fans a treat to see three technical wrestlers put on a show. We wanted to show you that there were wrestlers that could wrestle and not fight with weapons. But Vince decided to be out for self and screw me. Ira warned me that we couldn’t trust this guy but I thought we could get what we wanted out of Vince. So like I said before VETO is no more and I don’t need Vince or Max to achieve my goal to become the ACW World Champion.” Jade continued to walk around the ring as the crowd was giving him a mixed reaction throughout the speech.

“Speaking of Mr. Danger, you my friend committed the ultimate sin by using weapons at Fight Night. You put the nail in your own coffin my friend. If I ever see you again in an ACW ring you will see why I am considered one of the most gifted stars in this business. But since you are not here tonight and Mr. Jacobs is then I would like to call Vince Jacobs out here to the ring. Vince I know you are back there so if you will get out here so I can talk to you face to face.”

Jade turned to his entourage and said a few words to Ira.

The ever-familiar voice of the Icon echoed throughout the arena.

"I didn't have to come to the ACW to become a superstar...I brought my spotlight with me"

The jeers would fall into hindsight with the visual eye candy, dancing across the ominous trinity of super screens. A select bevy of monikers would appear at random exploding on the SlyTron one after the other.

Pro Wrestling's Phenomenon - The Icon - The Living Legend – The Ratings Grabber- HALL OF FAMER

After the last moniker appeared on the screen the all too familiar “Ring Superstar” reverberated throughout the arena speakers.

The bank account's thick and his pockets are fat
Peep the smirk on his face when he watching you tap
A three-count or submission, which steez you wanna go?
'Cause this muthafucka right here is a reason there's a show!

Vince Jacobs came out onto the stage looking around at the fans. He smirked as he strolled to the ring wearing one of his custom made Armani suits. Italian cut looked good on Vince. Jacobs slapped hands ringside with a few fans that held up a sign that read ‘HOW CAN YOU DENY YOUR GOD A HALL OF FAME SPOT?” Vince smiled as he climbed into the ring grabbing a microphone from one of the techs at ringside. The flashbulbs went off as Jacobs stood in the ring with his dark gray suit and sunglasses looking out into the arena.

Jacobs held the microphone to his lips as the fans let out another roar. He smirked again before pausing to look around the arena once more. It was definitely a mixed reaction from the crowd but there were more cheers than jeers from the rabid Finnish fans. Vince held the microphone up again.

“You have something to say to me, Jade.”

Jade was about to speak but Vince held his hand up in the air and cut the Australian Opportunist off.

“I’ve let you run your mouth long enough. You need to realize that I joined VETO to help you out. I made the fans and management notice you and Danger. I was the one that showed you two peons how to win matches. If it wasn’t for me you would be still curtain jerking with Keller and Ramey and Danger would be still bagging groceries to feed his family.”

Jacobs paused as he looked at Argent’s entourage.

“And if it wasn’t for me Rhyme and Reason wouldn’t be looking as good as they look now. But I think that had to do more with them being near a star like myself.” Vince gave the twins a wink as that infuriated Jade more.

“Listen Jacobs, I am the number one contender to the ACW World Title. A title that you last held five years ago. When I get my chance to win the title I will be the best World Champion this place has ever seen, better than Alias, SilverHawk, ICU and even you.”

Mixed reaction from the fans.

“But before I get to you Jacobs I want to ask you three a question.” Jade said as he turned to his entourage.

“Where do you loyalties lie?”

All three didn’t hesitate as they pointed to Argent. The King of the Cruiserweights quickly turned his attention back to Jacobs.

“See Vince the whole idea for VETO was to help old guys like you and Max get your stroke back. Show you guys that some of the younger guys still think you have what it takes, not that many of us but some still do.” Jade said while smirking. Vince continued to listen.

“Vince its time that you step to the side and let someone like me lead this company into the next generation.”

Vince smirked and turned his back on Jade. He went to step through the ropes but Argent grabbed his arm to pull him back into the ring.

“I’m not done with you Vince.” Argent said as Vince looked at his arm where Jade had grabbed him.

“You are the reason…”

CRACCCKKKK!! BZZZZTTTT!!

Before Jade could get anything else out Vince had drove the microphone in his hand into Jade’s head. Agent fell to the mat as his entourage looked on. Vince hopped on top of Jade and drove the mic into his head several more times as the sound echoed through the arena. The fans jeered the Superstar as he continued to pound Jade with the microphone busting the King of the Cruiserweights open. Ira, Rhyme, and Reason tried to pull Vince off of Jade.

The Icon stood to his feet with s sick grin on his face. He looked at the blood stained microphone for a second before dropping to his knees near a down Jade Argent.

“I warned you Argent, DON’T.FUCK. WITH. VINCE. JACOBS!!”

Ira grabbed Vince yelling for him to stop. He looked at Vince holding his hands up saying that’s enough, no more. Vince backed off and smirked as Ira went down to check on Jade. Ira placed his hand on Jade’s head to access the cut. But Ira made the mistake of getting into Vince’s business because when he stood up Vince was waiting for him.

SMACCKK!!

That would be a Superstar Kick right to Ira’s jaw sending the super agent hard to the mat. Jacobs looked down at his handy work before smiling at the ladies who looked confused from the situation. He rolled out of the ring raising his arms high in the air to a chorus of jeers from the fans. He loved every minute of it as he walked up the ramp watching the ACW officials run past him to check on Jade Argent. The Icon smirked as he watched his handy work in the ring.

Late Night?

The King Shit of Fuck Mountain was late for COURAGE 116 this week.

Did he care?

Did he fuck?

Did he miss the new World Champion being crowned?

Yes he did.

Did he care?

You get the point.

Walking in with a duffel bag slugged over his shoulder, the face of K2 was visibly in a pretty bad shape. Lacerations and bruises were scattered all over his face, along with scratches and marks all over his hands. More or less Keller was fucked. Not only did he not want to be here tonight... but he was forced to be here.

Yup.

Earlier in the day SilverHAWK had given him a week off to recuperate from his mystery injuries only to be overruled by a certain Mr. Jeremy Hunt. You see, K2 had opened his big mouth before FIGHT NIGHT asking for title shots and what not, so it was now part of Hunt's master plan to see if Keller was REALLY up to the challenge.

Cue Jenna McMullen with a microphone in hand.

"Mr. Keller... is it true you are not medically fit to be here tonight? You look in a bad way"

"Fuck off, tramp."

...

But she kept going.

"Mr. Keller, is it true that you are here tonight at the request of Jeremy Hunt? We hear he is looking for you also... what is this for?"

Keller stopped in his tracks and raked his fingers across his face and up past his brow. It seemed that a certain Mr. Cool was near enough to breaking point.

"What is going on between me and Hunt is none of your concern, hoe-bag. I've got a chance tonight to get ANYTHING I want in ACW by winning this King of Ages thing, again... so leave me alone, sugartits."

With that Keller walked off into the distance, dragging his bag behind him with the limited supply of energy he had left as Jenna McMullen turned to the camera with the most serious face you could imagine.

"This is Jenna McMullen, with a stirring interview with Khristain Keller. I'll be back later..."

Playin' laser tag with Helen Keller > catching a movie with Khristain Keller.

And now, for something entirely different in the heart of the backstage area.

Fans watched the scene unfold on the SlyTron, as the camera panned out on a custom backstage set featuring a homemade ranch fence with a burning amber sunset floating in the background. A lasso hung limply from a fence post, and the identity of the hulking silhouette became immediately clear. The crowd popped loudly with recognition! A front light faded up, revealing the grinning, angular face of the Midnight Cowboy, which only seemed to amplify the crowd cheers. His head craned to the side and a wide, white grin emerged from his thin lips. The Spirit Of ACW raised the microphone, but anyone who knew him would attest these kinds of devices were unnecessary should you be within 1000 yards of his presence.

"The sun is a-shinin' bright on ACW tonight, friends!"

More cheers. The Midnight Cowboy raised a palm and fanned at the crowd in the distance as he continued:

"The order of things has been restored, y'see. Ever'body can go back to what they were born t' do -- to step in that beautiful squared circle and put on a show for you good people who come out t' see us. There ain't a buncha sure things in this life, but you can rely on MC to shoot y' straight. It sure ain't much fun gearin' our show to them executives - it's like playin' laser tag with Helen Keller. She j'ist keeps standin' there, zappin' th' wall like a retard while you empty your six-shooter all over her chest. Pathetic!"

He paced a few steps to the right, snickering, head down, digging a free hand between his Spirit Of ACW title belt and his blue jeans. Finland really seemed to dig Cowboy.

" 'Cowboy, that ain't right!' I know. I know, y'all. It's just th' last few months have been plum bewilderin'. Challengers've been comin' an' goin' 'fore they can be my enemies -- and that's a good thing, I guess, 'cause I'd rather have me some friends. Even th' people floatin' somewhere in between on mah radar -- like Chris Moliano -- disappear mysteriously. I reck'n he's workin' things out in a cave somewhurr, makin' grainy VHS tapes to advertise his return. To each his own; sometimes a little bit of space is a man's best friend. Or, the catalyst for a steep and sudden psychological decline that makes you yearn for th' hangman's noose. But I'm pullin' for y', Chris. Hurry on back so I can put mah spurs in your ass!"

The crowd applauded and cheered the once, and current, Spirit Champion in the distance.

"I may not know what the future holds, but I do know I'm makin' hist'ry every night I lace em up, and that's 'bout good nuff for me. That bullseye's been growin on my back, but I got used to carryin' that load. An' the road... it's been rough, but I keep puttin' my thumb out there, lookin' for another ride. I --"

"--You're looking to be in the pink of health, Cowboy. That's good to see!" a voice off-screen interrupted.

Who was this source of interruption? Cowboy frowned as he turned around and came face-to-face with a man he didn't expect to see. Mainly because they never had dealings in the past.

It was none other than the new Five Million Dollar Man. The Hands Of Steel. That's right, John Sarsgaard!

And he was looking rather dapper too, with the fancy suit he was wearing. "And yes, this is a new suit. Glad you're noticing it, Cowboy. I must apologise for rudely cutting in the way I have, but I just wanted to formally congratulate you at a job well done at FIGHT NIGHT 2010. You see, Cowboy, as one of the only sane title holders in this place at the time -- damn those Entourage guys for beating England's Best -- I was looking forward to learning a little somethin' somethin' from you.

I know, I know. You're a wrestler first, then a fighter. But I could see that you were getting into the spirit of things at FIGHT NIGHT 2010, which was a delight for an up-and-comer like me. So, yes, thank you again for providing inspiration."

Sarsgaard beamed as he extended out his hand for a shake towards Cowboy. The reigning Spirit Of ACW was more than confused over what was going on, and tentatively accepted the offer of the handshake. Within seconds, the fans were cheering loudly again. Two fan favourites, being all goody good? That was nice to see.

Despite being decked out in a new suit and looking more confident, John still retained his unkempt look; the auburn hair, the rocker-esque headband, the piercings et al. Hence, Cowboy became a bit more weirded out by the second as he looked over Sarsgaard from head to toe. To that effect, the Spirit Of ACW Champion opened his mouth to presumably ask an important question.

Alas, he was stopped. After the handshaking had ceased, the Hands Of Steel raised up his other hand and smiled at Cowboy.

"I'm going to leave you to your devices, so allow me to say one last thing?" Sarsgaard queried. Cowboy thought about it, then nodded his head. John beamed again. "Excellent. This is more for everybody watching in the stands and at home, but it also involves you, Cowboy.

As you all may know, at COURAGE COUNTDOWN TO DISASTER, I was involved in a war with a deranged lunatic over the possession of my Championship Pass. I may have lost one third of it, but it's okay. I may have ended up winning the whole contest in a controversial manner, but that's okay. I'm just happy that I survived that affair, and FIGHT NIGHT after that, and I apparently don't have to worry about dying this year any longer.

With that being said, I have an important announcement. And it's a big one.

At the upcoming KING OF AGES 2010 pay-per-view, I am cashing in my Championship Pass and officially invoking a match for... the Spirit Of ACW Championship! That's right, Cowboy. I am challenging you to a title defense at the KING OF AGES pay-per-view.

That's all I have to say. See you in the Battle Royale later!"

Sarsgaard turned back from looking at the cameras and gave the thumbs up to Cowboy, before spinning on his heels and making a quick exit.

What of Midnight Cowboy?

Well, he was once again rendered speechless. That whole deal seemed more than a little odd. And now, he had a title defense to look forward to at the upcoming pay-per-view in August.

The question Midnight Cowboy now wanted to ask is, what was Sarsgaard's strategy here?

We'll find out soon, I suppose. Until then? All MC could do was go over the possibilities and keep lookin' over his shoulder.

TAG TEAM MATCH - STANDARD RULES
Das Effiziente Reich vs. Irish Spring
REFEREE: LEON HURST

And now, back to the ring. Tag team action was up next as Der Deutcher Soldat and Ulf German, Das Effiziente Reich, stood waiting for their opponents of the evening.

The familiar sounds of “I’m Shipping Up to Boston” by Dropkick Murphys blasted throughout the arena and brother’s O’Callaghan followed by their sister Darina made their way from the backstage area and onto the entrance ramp.

The tandem looked a little worse for wear from the Fight Night antics, but not nearly as bad as some of the others who hadn’t managed to make it out of the show in one piece. Tonight it was back to business as normal, and though the team would miss the opportunity of fighting like it was a bar room brawl week in and week out. Tonight they began their climb to the top of the heap.

Cavan and Cillian quickly slipped into the ring and tossed their arms up toward the fans shouting to them in Gaelic. The fans obviously had no idea what the team was saying, but it couldn’t have been bad, could it?

As referee Leon Hurst called for the bell, it would be Cillian O’Callaghan starting things off for Irish Spring’s corner while the corner of Das Effiziente Reich would insert Der Deutscher Soldat first in this one.

DING! DING!

The horses were out of the gates, and this one was underway.

The two circled the ring one time as the light on his feet Cillian called out to his brother, not letting his eyes leave Soldat.

“Cavan, ‘ee’s a wee bit of an ugly laddie, wouldn’t y’say?”

The crowd chuckled and offered some applause as Cavan O’Callaghan shrugged and nodded. DDS hadn’t necessarily found the statement humorous, on the contrary in fact, as he illustrated by rushing toward Cillian with a huge clothesline that Cillian rolled underneath before coming to a crouch only to sweep Soldat’s legs out from under him with a lightning fast kick.

Cillian would stay posed in the crouching position as Soldat crashed down to the mat, then Cillian was in the air, rotating with a quick flip, he extended his leg and nailed DDS with a crazy rendition of a leg-drop.

The crowd clapped as Cillian leapt to his feet and made his way to his corner to tag in his brother. Cillian proceeded to get onto knees and elbows on the mat as Soldat neared his feet.

Cavan bounced off the ropes only to push himself into the air off of his brother’s back. As Soldat turned around, Cavan came to a landing on his shoulders, looking to disorientate the man with a Hurracarana.

However, equipped with a healthy amount of upper body-strength, DDS was able to lift Cavan of Crosshaven into the air off of his shoulders and sent him flying forward just as Cillian had hopped to his feet.

THUD

It was a catastrophic collision of O’Callaghans as the body of Cavan was sent crashing into the body of his younger brother.

The Finland crowd gave off a thick layer of boos as Der Deutscher Soldat stood for a moment seething before stomping over to Ulf German, tagging the Most Efficient Man in ACW.

As German the German climbed into the ring, Soldat picked up Cillian and sent him flying over the top-rope, landing him with another sickening THUD on the outside of the ring.

Then the team of Das Effiziente Reich turned their combined attention on the other brother, the brother currently struggling to gain his senses and climb to his feet. As the two men moved into position, looming over him, Cavan realized that this probably wasn’t going to bode well for him. But what could he do?

Soldat and German lifted the older O’Callaghan to his feet before simultaneously draping his arms over their necks and lifting him into the air for a double-team suplex.

Cavan, however, wasn’t about to go without a fight and he immediately began flailing his legs. It was working! At least on one side.

Soldat started to fold under the shift of weight, but the muscles of Ulf German were staying strong. So what did Cavan do? He quickly ripped his arm away from German, dealing him a quick elbow to the back of the head in the process.

Then it was Cavan driving Soldat’s head into the canvas with a thunderous DDT.

The crowd was clapping as Soldat rolled out of the ring and Cillian O’Callaghan was shaking the cobwebs out as he climbed back onto the ring apron.

Ulf German jogged at the rising Cavan O’Callaghan, looking for a Running Knee-Lift.

Cavan quickly pivoted to the side and wrapped German up from behind, looking to send German the German up and over with a Release GERMAN Suplex.

Thinking fast, Ulf hooked his leg behind Cavan’s and quickly whipped his head backwards, smashing Cavan’s nose, sending the Irish Man into LaLa-Land.

Ulf quickly turned around and grabbed Cavan’s arm, whipping him towards the corner.

The ever-elusive Cavan O’Callaghan reversed the move however, figuring it more fitting that an O’Callaghan do the IRISH Whipping in this bout. Ulf collided forcefully with the turnbuckle as Cavan rubbed his bloody nose and reached backwards.

Cillian tagged his older brother’s hand and hopped into the ring.

The O’Callaghan’s nodded, and Cillian grabbed his brother, whipping him towards the cornered German.

With speed that was actually fairly impressive for the usually slow German, Ulf sprung out of the corner and put his boot into the air.

SMACK!

If Cavan’s nose hadn’t been broken, the Big Boot had certainly finished the damn job.

Ulf didn’t stop there though.

He’d followed through with the Big Boot, and brought the weapon down, continuing like a raging bulldozer out of the corner to connect with a Forearm Smash that turned Cillian O’Callaghan inside out, upside down, and a bit out of this world.

Cavan rolled out to his team’s corner as Ulf German bent down over Cillian O’Callaghan and grabbed him by the neck.

In a feat of superior strength, German the German pulled Cillian up off the ground, holding him by his neck in the air before rotating ninety degrees and sending the younger O’Callaghan into the mat with a roaring Spinning Chokeslam.

German grinned and went for the pin.

1...

2...

No!

Cillian had kicked out, and Ulf roared with fury as he pulled the young man from Ireland to his feet.

Ulf whipped him towards the ropes and bent over for the Back Body Drop…

So Ulf didn’t see when Cillian had enough wherewithal to take DDS off the apron with a Running Elbow Smash…

And Ulf, while perhaps starting to grow a bit suspicious, didn’t notice Cillian sprinting back at him a little less dazed than before.

Cillian brought forth a round of impressed cheers from the crowd as he leapt up onto the back of Ulf German before soaring across the ring, hand extended.

Ulf cursed in German as he heard the O’Callaghans’ hands SMACK.

He turned around slowly…

Just in time for a Double-Clothesline.

Cillian bounced off the ropes as Ulf struggled to his knees, and Cavan scaled the turnbuckle…

CRACK!

THE SHIN-ING (Shinning Wizard)

The crowd cheered as Ulf wobbled on his knees for a moment before collapsing backwards. This gave the older O’Callaghan the sign.

Taking his cue, Cavan flew.

IRISH EYES! (450 Knee Drop)

Cavan made the pin as his brother kept Soldat at bay.

1...2...

THREE!

Irish Spring had picked up the victory in this one, working well together, proving to be the better team in this particular instant. The pub would be alive with celebration tonight!

WINNERS: Irish Spring via PINFALL (Cavan O'Callaghan over Ulf German).

What's This Now?

The scene faded to the backstage area of the Hartwall Areena and the designated interview area for the evening. Jenna McMullen stood holding a microphone close to her obviously chilly chest. The man standing beside of her needed no introduction, or at least in his own mind he didn’t need an introduction. His long wavy hair looked washed for a change, and the grizzly beard he had acquired over the past two months looked almost combed.

Bandages adorned his midsection and his left arm, covering some of the various tattoos. His forehead was covered with the wrinkles and scars of time as he solemnly stared at the ground.

Before Jenna had the chance to speak, Jesse began, and he pushed the microphone closer to his chest.

“Tonight things go back to the way they used to be, before our tour of the old USSR.” One side of Ramey’s lip cringed, “For some of us, things will never be the same again, and a select few may never set foot in that ring again.”

Jesse looked down at his battered hands for a brief moment, he stood in silence. The thoughts of the careers he may have taken over the past two months running through his mind.

“Yet, we are all supposed to put this whole thing behind us and move on into the future. Our payment for sacrificing our bodies, our blood, and our souls; is nothing more than a mere tournament. A tournament we potentially may not even be a part of if we don’t qualify high enough in this Battle Royale tonight.”

Jesse scoffed at the idea of his payment for all that he had given over the past two months. The only thing he had left to embrace was the tiny glimmer of hope still shining through his now broken and calloused heart.

Jenna finally found the courage to muster up a question while Jesse looked lost in concentration; he cautiously brought the microphone back her chest.

“Jesse, I know the one question lurking on everyone’s mind is have you heard anything of Alias or even what state he is in at the moment?”

Jesse continued to look lost in thought, until his eyes slowly shifted upward glaring at Jenna. The silence continued for a brief moment.

“I haven’t heard from, nor do I know where Chris is.”

It seemed to be all that Ramey had to say about the situation that is until everyone’s favorite King Shit of Fuck Mountain found his way into the picture. Jesse’s eyebrow cocked a slight bit and a snarl almost came to his lip at the sight of Khristian Keller.

"Has anyone thought that the Hero doesn't want to be found? Nobody even want to consider that?"

McMullen looked a little shocked that Keller may be right, has Alias left ACW?

Ramey on the other hand wound up his fists and imagined 101 ways to rip the head of the King Shit.

"Hold up..."

Keller put his hand out to Ramey, as if to tell him to stop.

"You have a chance to get into the King of Ages tournament here Ramey... like it or lump it I beat you at COURAGE COUNTDOWN TO DISASTER. Move on."

Ramey thought about it... Keller was right.

"Because I sure as hell wouldn't mind ripping you a new asshole in the King of Ages final!"

Keller moved quickly towards Ramey as both men locked horns, the image showing both men squaring up to one another forehead to forehead. Raging Ramey and Kocky Keller would maybe meet later tonight.

If they made it to the ring without ripping each other apart.

C O M M E R C I A L S

The Risen Lion

FIGHT NIGHT 2010 was in the proverbial bag, and you could bet your ass that they were still bleaching the blood off the walls in the Olimpiyskiy Arena. It had been a night that bore witness to many things that would be permanently etched in the minds of many an ACW-fan. Once such violence was burnt into the retinas of the collective fan base, well, suffice to say, a simple rinsing of the eyes couldn’t expunge such scenes. Fuck the roster, a large portion of the viewing audience was probably due some therapy after viewing the things that happened to Omega and Fejona Min. Or what about Jesse Ramey and Sharc enjoying the view? And how about Alias doing his best John McClane? So many water-cooler moments had transpired that it seemed like every fan had a different reason for tuning into COURAGE 116. But then again, this was ACW, where there was something for every member of the family!

FIGHT NIGHT 2010 had provided multiple occasions for the fans to cringe, gasp, moan, and even cover their eyes in shocked horror. But one moment stood out as far as being gooseflesh-inducing. The following pertains to that moment.

The lights drew down in Hartwall Areena bringing the murmuring crowd down to a bit more of a hushed decibel of excitement. A few seconds of silence went by before the sound of what seemed to be an engine was barely audible. Then, suddenly, a very monotone female voice boomed out over the speakers as the SlyTron sprung to life.

“All that he had built up seemed to crumble before him, abruptly and without warning…”

We were watching a motorcycle, a black Ducati Streetfighter S to be more specific, and it was roaring down a highway that the Helsinki, Finland crowd soon recognized as the Lokvägen. This brought forth cheers as the scene changed to a simple shot of a wheelchair and the female voice continued.

“He had been broken down and soon thereafter imprisoned in a ghastly device that only served to remind him of the heights he had fallen from…”

Once again we watched the motorcycle, a bullet with two blurry wheels of rubber burning beneath it. Whoever was driving the camera-crew’s truck was forced to slow down a bit as The Man on the Motorcycle very narrowly avoided rear-ending a vehicle before screaming next to it and increasing the throttle.

“He was once hailed for his bravery and tact on the battlefield…”

A copy of Pro Wrestling Illustrated is on the screen, we’re focused in on the words ‘Rookie of the Year.’ Then, we’re back on the Lokvägen, attempting to catch up with The Driver of the Ducati.

“However, his legacy wasn’t what he’d believed, for once he’d fallen, he was but another warrior lost in battle…

The Ducati slowed just barely in order to make it onto the Areenankuja exit, and then it’s horsepower was once again being unleashed as the fans started clamoring, knowing the arena was just ahead.

“The Young Lion had grown old-boned overnight, and those few that remembered would remark that he was lucky to be alive…”

The arena came into view and the crowd roared. The Ducati sped on, the arena quickly growing closer and closer and closer.

“There was a hole in his heart, though, and those who had remained close to the shattered prince would probably tell you that he would have rather been dead…”

Finally the motorcycle blasted past the front of the arena as security personnel scrambled to the task of moving barricades out the speedster’s way. As the bike turned down a tunnel leading into the arena, we switched to a different camera that just caught the vapor trails of the bike as it passed by.

“But what doesn’t kill a man can only make him stronger…”

Another camera, WHOOOOOSH, some poor intern most likely needed a change of pants after nearly becoming a messy, red, and smeared stain courtesy of the roaring motorcycle.

“Pieced back together, he returns to claim his rightful place among the legends of old. His song not yet sung, his tale untold, his book with blank pages--Once-Young, he’d stood among the best of the best…”

The crowd was rumbling with anticipation as blue and yellow lights of every sort of make (strobe, spotlight, lasers) began illuminating the arena.

“Now, he stands once again, a man a million thoughts away from the man you once knew, but standing none the less. And now, right now, this instant, he recognizes that YOU can’t STAND to wait any longer. Ladies and Gentlemen, returning from realms which have befallen many great warriors, standing tall once again, The Uncrowned King,

RYAN BILLOWS.”

The pyro hit as 311’s “Large in the Margin” stirred up the crowd even more.

BOOM

VRRRRROOOOOMSCREEEECH!

In an area occupied predominantly by wires and other technical equipment, the Ducati came flying out from the back before being expertly brought to a screeching halt.

Billows immediately leapt off the beautiful bike and ripped the helmet off his head, winging it to the ground as he walked with purpose to the ring. The amount of lights flashing about the place, both from his entrance and from the fans taking photos, was seriously enough to induce a seizure.

Thankfully, Billows wasn’t wasting any time and he hopped up onto the ring apron before perching himself on the turnbuckle. This gave the cue for the lights to come up and the crowd couldn’t contain themselves when they were given the opportunity to see Billows for the first time in three goddamn years.

There he was though, staring out at all of them with the same intense green eyes that they remembered. He’d lost quite a bit of length on his hair, but the ladies noted that it was still enough for them to run their fingers through. However, whereas his hair had been naturally brown, it was now jet-black with a healthy strand dyed red. He was also sporting an unfamiliar beard that might take some getting used to. Wearing a pair of blue jeans and a tight-fitting black hooded sweatshirt, Billows stood there on the turnbuckle for a few moments longer before hopping down into the ring and retrieving the microphone being enthusiastically waved at him.

He’d always known how to work a crowd, and he hadn’t lost a step in that department. Pacing back and forth in the ring, Billows seemed to make eye contact with every fan in the crowd before finally stopping in the center of the ring and bringing the microphone to his lips.

“Given how much time I’ve had to think, I guess it’s sort of cheap for me to stand here and tell you that I really don’t know where to begin. You know?” Billows paused as the crowd offered up encouraging cheers, “It’s been awhile, and I just don’t know where exactly to start. Some scenarios can’t really be summed up and easily broadcast over a microphone in front of thousands of people. I just wouldn’t be able to find the right words.”

Billows paused again, and it was obvious that he’d gone over this a million times in his head, approaching it a million different ways, trying to filter through a million different words. But he was right, there was no perfect way to go about something like this, and the fans knew that he warranted their silence more than their cheers right then and there.

“I don’t know…what a long strange trip it’s been, huh?”

The Pride of Pennsylvania couldn’t help but to give a shake of his head and a smirk. Long and strange indeed. The crowd started to liven up, oh how they loved that smile of his.

“Ah, screw it, let’s get this shit rollin’,” Billows looked up, “GODDAMMIT IT’S GOOD TO BE BACK!!!”

The crowd was a sea of rolling thunder, a volcano erupting with verbal lava, an earthquake shaking the arena to its very foundations with the level of support they were displaying.

Billows shook his head, ‘good’ didn’t quite cut it.

“No. No, you know what? It’s friggin’ GGGGGREAT to be back!”

The crowd fell comfortably back into the palm of Billows’ hand, they realized now how much they had missed him.

“Yeah, it’s good and great to be back in front of all of you so that I can look each and every one of you in the eyes and properly convey just how much…

DISDAIN I hold in my heart for all of you. Black, venomous hatred.”

Wait. WHAT?

The crowd’s jaws dropped. What had he just said?

Billows continued, “Well, let me rewind first and say thank you. I do, at least, owe you pitiful tools that much. So thank you. Thank you for opening my naïve eyes. I know, I know, your little vegetable brains are just a bit confused at the moment, I’ll try to use small words and go slow.”

Members of the audience still weren’t sure what was going on, but they knew they’d been insulted, and so surely enough, the ‘boos’ started pouring in.

“Three years ago, every single one of you would cream your drawers when you heard my music. You would chant ‘MATCH OF THE YEAR’ during my every match. I never phoned it in, I held you, the fans, in the highest regard because you held me in highest regard. The mounds of fan-mail became mountains. The cameos on lame sitcoms turned into movie offers. The rental cars were memories in the rearview mirrors of my motorcycles. But most importantly, god dammit, you fucking loved me. With good reason, you loved me. And you all know that I loved you back.”

The fans couldn’t necessarily boo him here, like it or not, he was speaking the truth.

“Then my eyes were ripped open and the truth forced it’s ugly way into the canals of my mind. The truth? You’re all as fickle as fucking schoolchildren. So thank you for helping me to realize just how much time I had wasted on you.”

Well, now they could boo, cause he’d just outright insulted them.

“Oh, what’s that? I’m sorry? Fine then…where the hell have you all been the last three years then? I’m laid up, can’t even switch off the shitty infomercials when they come on at night, and none of you can pick up a pen and write a letter to the guy who BROKE HIS BACK FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT?”

So that’s what this was about.

“FICKLE!”

Billows rolled out of the ring, and began pacing in front of the barricade.

“My whole career has been full of quote unquote overnights. I blew up overnight after I took the legendary Ninja K to a level nobody had ever forced him to go to. I rose up the ranks overnight. I won your hearts overnight. And then, you forgot about me OVERNIGHT! FICKLE!”

Billows brought his hand up in a flash, backhanding an unsuspecting male fan. The fan stood shocked for a moment as blood leaked out of his nose. Billows proceeded to spit in the young man’s face, which brought the fan back to reality and security quickly got between the flailing man and Once-Young Ryan Billows.

“GOD! You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that. Seriously, I hate you all. From the bottom of this heart that once loved you, I hate you. You’d written me off. I’d never walk again, and so I was rendered useless as far as your black little hearts were concerned.” Billows grew frustrated with the scene the man was making, turning back to him, “Oh shut up, go eat a Swedish fish and dance in some clogs, y’friggin douche. Get him the hell out of here.”

The fans booed, but only through dazed expressions of shock. This was really the last thing they were expecting to hear from the man they’d known and loved. Billows continued pacing around the ring, sneering at the Helsinki audience.

“Don’t even look at me like that, like I’m somehow this horrible person for being a tad bit offended at how quickly I was written out of your lives, don’t act like I’m the bad guy for that. That’s fucking stupid. You’re the assholes, every single one of you. You’re tools. Instruments for procuring higher ratings. Sheep. You react EXACTLY how you’re supposed to. You always have, and you always will.”

BOOOOOO!

“I was an exception though. That’s the thing. I came along and I showed you the light. I shattered the glass ceiling. I wasn’t some goddamn product created by some goddamn suits only to subsequently be shoved down your goddamn fickle throats. I was ME, through and through. I didn’t do a character, I did ME. I came, and I did my job better than anybody else could, and I left. And I was so damned good that you all started cheering. I kept doing what I was supposed to do, and you kept cheering. No gimmick. No mask. Just me and the ring and you all realizing that you were witnessing something special. And together, we changed the direction of entire promotion!”

Billows stopped and hopped back up onto the ring apron, looking out at the audience.

“And somehow I’m the asshole for being hurt that I was brushed under the rug in a matter of weeks? See, Once-Young, I was as much of a sheep as you all. I did exactly what I thought you wanted. I flew. I flipped. I honed my craft to the point that my trainers said ‘no more. Nothing left to teach.’ You know it, and I know it--I WAS PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING!!!”

Billows was shaking with rage, and the crowd was at a loss for words, only able to watch the man who had once upon a time been hailed as “a generation’s sensation.”

“I was everything I thought you all wanted to see. Well…

No more.”

Billows leaned against a turnbuckle and looked up into the air, chewing on every word before he spit it into the crowd’s face.

“I suppose it’s a good thing that you’ve all already found your new heroes, cause you won’t find any heroics here. Not any longer. No. Those days are as dead as LoC. I’m not playing the sheep any longer. I’m a lion, now more than ever, and let me tell you that the only thing that brought me back from the dead is my unwavering disenchantment with all things pertaining to you idiots. That’s the nutshell of it all. Feel-good story it ain’t folks--hate drove my journey of relearning to walk, run, jump, AND WRESTLE! HATE!”

BOOOO!

“So here I am. And here I’ll remain. And mark my words, tonight is only the beginning…by the end of this go-round, whenever that may be, I swear the most solemn oath that you will NEVER forget me again.”

And with that, Billows let the microphone fall to the mat, glaring at the jeering audience for a split-second before his music came back on and he stomped out of the ring, jaw-jacking with the audience all the way to the back.

Well then…

Welcome back Billows.

Interview with a referee. That's new.

"Hello again, citizens of Finland and everybody watching at home!"

Oh, Jesus Allah Vishnu. It was Jenna McMullen yet again, standing in front of the snazzy COURAGE backdrop.

With her free hand on the side of her hip, trying to look sultry, Jenna grinned cheerily at the camera. "It's only been a couple of weeks since the end of our Eastern European tour, but there's been a lot of fallout from the events that have taken place. One of the talking points has been the appointment of new referees by Joe Bishop, the General Manager's right-hand man.

Standing by with me? One of those new referees! He had a short stint here in 2004, and is now back for the long haul. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you... ACW referee Lucas Nuckallin!"

An interview segment with a referee? Really? Needless to say, the fans were a bit deflated upon the sight of referee Lucas Nuckallin apprehensively walking up to Jenna. Lucas smiled nervously at Jenna and made a timid wave at the camera. Clearly, he wasn't expected to be given the interview treatment.

Jenna noticed Nuckallin's unease and sprung into action. "Hey, take it easy, Lucas! You're in the company of a professional! This is just a platform for myself and the rest of the ACW fans to get to know more about what goes on with the other important members of the ACW family.

So, Lucas. How has your reintroduction to ACW gone so far?"

Jenna winked at her interviewee. That was the easiest question ever. Lucas nodded, looking more relaxed.

"S'alright, I suppose. Nothing that has me running for the hills. Yet!" the dimunitive Nuckallin started, unsure of whether to look at Jenna or at the camera. " I mean, when I had my cup of coffee here in the late summer of 2004, there were a lot of crazy things going on. Six years and some change later, it seems things have only gotten more out of control.

But that's the industry for ya, I guess. I mean, when Joe Bishop rang me up, my first thought was - 'how the hell is ACW is still going strong'. No disrespect, but this place has seen its fair share of mayhem... and I heard about the craziness that went down in 2006, with Lowell Dot Com and all of that. Naturally, I figured Bishop was yankin' my chain. Good to see that it wasn't the case."

Awww, what a nice sentiment. The fans thought so, as they cheered.

Jenna appeared to be rather impressed with her interviewee's response. "Wow, that's cool. So, could you possibly shed some light on the circumstances that have led to your return to ACW? How's your personal life been?"

"Oh, my personal life's always a case of on and off!" Lucas speedily replied, feeling more comfortable as the seconds passed. "Right about four weeks ago, it'd been off for a while. Don't wanna talk too much about that. Suffice to say, Bishop's always been there for me. So it was nice for him to offer me the opportunity for work since there was a situation befitting the hiring.

Being a referee in wrestling isn't exactly glamarous, but it pays the bills. And with the talent ACW has, it's kinda fun to sometimes sit back and just be something of a up-close fan."

Again, another round of cheers from the fans. Were they just being polite? Nobody knew.

"Yes, it is fun to watch the matches from the backstage, knowing that you're so near to the ring!" Jenna babbled excitedly. "Now, then, your first assignment came on the night you were re-hired, during the monumental Z/Sarsgaard First To Five Showdown. That ended with you getting clonked over the head by another one of our referees, Mark Shields, whom you replaced during the match.

What are your thoughts on that? And of course, what did you take away from COURAGE COUNTDOWN TO DISASTER and FIGHT NIGHT 2010?"

Lucas Nuckallin bit down on his lower lip. He vividly remembered what happened two weeks prior. "Yeah, I wasn't too hot about that. I mean, Bishop and I were watching the fight backstage, and when Shields went down, he urged me to go out there and take over. I figured, I could do that. Y'know? Sounded easy enough.

And then, a few minutes in, that degenerate Shields whacks me over the head with a chair. That ain't right!

At any rate, it was a learning experience. Don't get too comfortable. And the experience next night during the Scorpion Fight Night Challenge sure as hell reinforced that! Man, there were bodies everywhere. Wild. I'd never been a part of anything like that before, and I'm pretty sure a lot of the All-Stars tonight are still hurting badly. They're just putting on a brave face, is all."

"Oh yes, I bet they are. What's in store for you tonight, Lucas?" Jenna followed up quickly, wanting to ride the momentum of the interview.

"Tonight?" Lucas looked upwards at the ceiling in contemplation for a moment. "I don't have a specific match to look after, per se, but I and the other referees will be there for the Battle Royale. We're all still a little shook up about Henry Irwonsen, though. Y'know, what with him having something of a cardiac arrest and all during the Scorpion Fight Night Challenge.

I can't say anything than I already have, but Henry will be taking a short break to rest up for a while. A bunch of us are in contact with him every other day, just to see how he's doing. Ol' Ironsides will be back before you know it, though."

Upon hearing that their favourite referee of all time (?) Henry Irwonsen was doing a-okay, the fans cheered loudly. Perhaps it had something to do with a woman in the stands taking off her top out of sheer boredom. Hmmm. Anyways, back to the matter at hand.

"Awesome! What an informative interview!" Jenna squealed, delighted with the amount of dirt she'd gotten. "Thank you very much, Lucas

Nuckallin beamed. "Thank you, Jenna. I feel like a superstar, getting interview time and all. Heh!"

With that, referee Lucas Nuckallin turned and walked back towards wherever the hell he came from an extremely happy camper. Jenna McMullen turned towards the camera and flashed a sweet/sexy smile, that had many a man sit up straight at home. Yup, THAT kind of smile.

"Well, that was certainly a very interesting interview!" Jenna summed up. "Now, we go to ringside for more fun. In fact, I believe our unbeatable Scorpion Fighting Champion has a few words to say regarding FIGHT NIGHT 2010!

That's right, Omega speaks! Take it away, Renaud and Jimmy. And Jimmy; no, I will not go out with you!"

Ahhh. Okay. TMI. But anyways, yes, let's head to ringside.

somebody set him up the bomb. or something.

Redeemer by Marilyn Manson.

The arena lights went out as a few strobe lights circulated around the arena. The music continued as the one and only Omega slowly made his way from the backstage area, holding ‘Barb’ to a thunderous ovation from the fans. The almighty Scorpion Fighting Championship was wrapped tightly around his waist as he cautiously looked around the arena before making his way down the ramp. The defiant Champion just survived FIGHT NIGHT 2010 like he said he would but he never thought he would receive the ovation he was getting right now. He had a bandage covering the eye that Fejona Min drove a pencil into during their epic Scorpion Fighting title match almost a month ago. A bandage was better than the eye-patch, at least.

With the fans still going wild at the sight of the Craziest Bastard In Wrestling, Omega slid under the bottom rope still holding ‘Barb’ before setting ‘Barb’ in the corner. He was handed a microphone as the Champion sat down on the mat in the middle of the ring. Yup, Omega was kicking it old-school, you see. Omega was visibly grimacing, though; surely, he was not yet at a 100%.

The lights never came back on as Omega sat in the middle of the ring in complete darkness. That was, until a few soft strobe lights hit ringside so the fans could see the Champ in the ring.

“Many weeks ago, we said that Omega would walk away from FIGHT NIGHT 2010 still the ACW Scorpion Fighting Champion... and guess what? WE WERE RIGHT!!”

Another pop for the Champion. Them Helsinkians loved Omega.

"We knew it wasn’t going to be easy to hold onto that title belt, but we also knew that if anyone would be able to do it, this man sitting in the middle of the ring would be able to. This man is three hundred and twenty five pounds of rage, three hundred and twenty five pounds of unbridled chaos. This man did what no other human being on this planet could do.

That was to rise from the dead and take everyone else at FIGHT NIGHT straight down to hell with him!”

Omega paused as the crowd continued to murmur excitedly. Strange was definitely Omega's forte, but he was taking it to another level.

“The undeniable and undisputed Craziest Bastard In Wrestling has solidified his stranglehold on this division and it will continue. We have major things for Omega. Even 'Barb' has decided to join in on the fun. We have had our issues with 'Barb' in the past but she now realizes the power we can possess with Omega.”

Basking in the cheers from the crowd, Omega stood to his feet wincing a little from each movement.

“Omega will continue to cause pain and punishment throughout ACW because we want it. Anybody that wants a piece of Omega?

... Step forward at your own risk.”

Clearly, the Scorpion Fighting Champ was in a buoyant mood. And why wouldn't he be? Seemingly taken out of the Scorpion Fight Night Challenge early on, Omega rose from the ashes and stormed his way to victory despite all the odds standing in his way.

Who, I ask you, would be STUPID enough to want to take on Omega? Who? Anybody?

... Well, this next guy ain't stupid. He just has a plan, see.

Mask? In place. Trenchcoat? Looked spiffy as usual. Fingerless gloves? Expensive. What else was left? The Final Countdown (Special Remix Z), by Europe. Hold on, scratch that.

Within seconds of starting, the music was abruptly cut. This had become a trademark of sorts, ever since LEGENDS IV.

Wait for it. Wait forrrrrrrr it. There, we have music again.

Zero, by the Smashing Pumpkins.

My reflection,
dirty mirror.

The Masked Enigma.

The Caped Crusader.

Well, this was an interesting twist, huh? Z stormed out from the back, laughed at the fans jeering at him and locked eyes with Omega.

Who had, by now, retrieved 'Barb'. Looks like Omega was about to get called out.

Z motioned for his theme music to be cut, and raised the microphone to his lips. "Before I get down to business, I have something to get off my chest.

Here's the thing -- Khristain Keller is quite possibly the worst wrestler alive today. Heh heh heh.

Anyways. Omega. I want to extend my heartiest congratulations to you for your famous victory two weeks ago in Moscow. You triumphed in the face of insurmountable adversity, and you managed to retain your Scorpion Fighting Title along the way. Well done, Omega. You da man, man!

I'd just like to point out, though, that something glorious happened the night before FIGHT NIGHT 2010. I fought John Sarsgaard for his Championship Pass, and earned a shot at the Scorpion Fighting Title by virtue of fulfilling a stipulation. I don't think I need to spell out what's going to happen next, Omega.

And I'm not even going to ask if you're ready. Because, quite frankly, it doesn't f**king matter!"

Hoooo boy, business was about to pick up! The fans roared in excitement. Was Z about to cash in his Scorpion Fighting title shot right then and there? Sure seemed that way. Omega, while not being at full strength, nonetheless unstrapped his title belt from around his waist and nodded at Z. Omega was always ready for a fight, and it didn't matter who it was or whether he was fit enough.

The bastard's crazy, yo. But, then again, Z's a little off his rocker too. And for some reason, he wasn't moving an inch.

In fact, the smirk on his minimally-exposed face grew wider. Uh oh. "What DOES matter, is the little fine print attached to this whole Championship Pass thingy. Apparently, the individual title shots are transferrable and all that. It's up to the beholder to do whatever he or she sees fit with it.

... Which is why I decided to sell my title shot to the highest bidder. And trust me, somebody paid a LOT of money for this. I was pretty shocked myself at the amount this person paid for it, but hey, I'm a businessman. Who is this somebody, I hear some of you asking?

Somebody who doesn't like you a single bit, Omega. In fact, this person downright loathes you. This person wishes nothing but to attain the Scorpion Fighting Title, and you've prevented this person from doing so on a couple of occassions already. Like the old saying goes --

-- hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

Red fucking flag. Omega's eyes narrowed. He knew instantly what was coming. Many of the fans were aghast. This couldn't be happening.

Lucky You by The Deftones.

And yet, it WAS happening. Z lowered the microphone and gave the thumbs down sign to Omega in the ring.

Fejona Min. Omega. II.

RIGHT NOW~!

SINGLES MATCH - ACW SCORPION FIGHTING TITLE
Fejona Min vs. Omega ©
REFEREE: MARK SHIELDS

Can you say, holy frak?

The stylings of The Deftones' Lucky You continued to blare over the speakers and Z made his timely exit, having sufficiently set Omega up the bomb. All your base are belong to us. Or something. Anyways, Omega grinded his teeth and got ready for an unexpected title defense against the woman that has had it out for him for months.

One tiny problem. Fejona hadn't appeared. The fans were completely psyched, if not a little concerned for Omega, over getting a chance to witness The Rogue Slayer and the Craziest Bastard In Wrestling lock horns once more after their epic battle on COURAGE 114 and the cat-and-mouse drama at FIGHT NIGHT 2010. Yet, a whole minute had passed without any hint of Fejona Min.

That was because ACW's Original Femme Fatale had popped out from the sea of humanity. Quickly jumping over the security barricade like she was doing the 100m hurdles, Fejona swiftly rolled into the ring and advanced on Omega from behind. Omega knew instantly something was up and turned around, but he was just a split second too late. Fejona had already launched herself through the air.

HURRICANE KICK!

Omega went down, and 'Barb' went flying out of his hands. It happened to land at the feet at the appointed official for this impromptu fight, who turned out to be none other than Mark Shields. Coincidence? I think not.

Fejona -- who was donning dark gloves for some reason -- bounced on the heels of her bare feet. This was it. A golden opportunity for her to exact revenge against Omega. And while both her and Omega were still hurting from the exertions of FIGHT NIGHT 2010 and COURAGE 114 before that, Fejona had the element of surprise on her end.

The moment Omega pressed his palms down against the canvas in a bid to get up to his feet, Fejona bounced herself off the ropes and connected with a flying knee strike to the back of Omega's head! A bunch of fans went 'oooh' and 'aaah' at that vile strike from Fejona, who quickly went right back to work. She mounted Omega and went ballistic with a barrage of close-range punches to the back of the head and the neck. Occassionally, she would lift her right knee up and punish her nemesis with a knee strike to his lower spinal area.

In short? This was a flat-out mugging. Feeling satisfied with the punishment she'd dished out, Fejona peeled herself off of Omega and set her eyes on 'Barb'. Only for a second, because despite being hammered, Omega rolled over towards the ropes and was looking to fight his way up to a vertical base.

This brought a twisted smile to Fejona's face. The Rogue Slayer was somewhat pleased that Omega was not completely out of it yet.

Defiant against the jeers of the fans, Min rushed towards the ropes and opted for a springboard. What was she springboarding into? Nothing particularly fancy; just a double-footed stomp down onto the back of Omega's head. Yowzah.

From there, Fejona Min grabbed Omega's left arm and dragged him towards the middle of the ring. With a mighty heave, she rolled Omega over and eased into a lateral press, choosing not to hook the legs. Bastard referee Mark Shields figured that was a mistake, but nonetheless got in position to count;

ONE!

TWO!

THRE - NO!

As expected by Shields, Omega kicked out. The fans rejoiced, but there were many that were still concerned.

Fejona? She wasn't pissed. Oh no, the twisted smile remained etched on her face. "That's good, stay in this. I'm not quite done yet."

With those ominous words, ACW's Original Femme Fatale then proceeded to punch Omega in the face. More specifically, in the eye. You know, the eye which had been subjected to a pencil stabbing by Fejona on COURAGE 114?

That made Omega trash about on the canvas, his hands clutching his damaged eye. Fejona rolled away and towards 'Barb', revelling in the outpouring of hatred from every single fan in the arena. But Min didn't care. She was single-minded about her mission. Yet, she appeared to be indulging in something of a detour, exiting the ring with 'Barb' in hand and retrieving something from under the ring.

It was... a pail? Filled with some sort of clear liquid? That was odd. Fejona started whistling as she dunked 'Barb' into the pail, leaving many people wondering just what her game was.

Once THAT was done? Fejona re-entered the kick, 'Barb' fully drenched. By this time, Omega had gotten back up to one knee. Not for long, as Min quickly advanced at the Champ and blasted him in the face with a fierce pushing kick right in the kisser! One-way traffic here, and Omega was being dominated like never before. That suited Fejona Min just perfectly.

Backing up a few steps, the former Asylum fighter found herself close to the corner turnbuckle. With the fans now urging Omega to get back up, Fejona quite expertly hoisted herself up to the top of the turnbuckle with the aid of her free hand, while the other continued to clutch on to 'Barb' tightly. It was evident to everyone watching what the Rogue Slayer had in mind, yet the sight of Omega clawing his way up back to a vertical base -- fists clenched and eyes widening in rage -- gave them hope that he'd be able to survive what was coming at him next.

SMAAA-AAAACK!

No such luck, kiddos. Not even a single bit.

With as much malevolence as she could conjure up, Fejona took flight and spiked 'Barb' right down onto Omega's head, deciding not to wait for Omega to be fully upright and facing her. Within moments, Omega was left laying face-first on the blood-stained canvas.

At FIGHT NIGHT 2010, Omega endured the most severe beating he'd ever had only to come roaring back and sensationally win the second Scorpion Fight Night Challenge. On that night, Fejona outsourced the dirty deed. Tonight, in Helsinki, Fejona Min had decided to take matters into her own hands. She was being proactive. Vindictive. And downright savage.

"You like fire, don't you?" Fejona whispered into Omega's ears as she crouched down. The twinkle in her eyes made many a fan scared.

They would soon know the true meaning of fear. Standing up, Fejona delved into the side-pocket of her pants. Upon producing a LIGHTER, Renaud Cardinal and Jimmy Reid started to crap their pants at the Broadcast Booth.

It made sense, now, what Fejona had done moments earlier. She hadn't dunked 'Barb' in a pail of water.

No, far from it. It was... kerosene.

And within seconds, the morally reprehensible Fejona Min had lit 'Barb' on fire. The steel chair wrapped with barbed wire was on fire. The fans were silent now. This was effin' serious business. Even bastard referee Mark Shields was no longer being all jubilant. He stood next to the ropes, quietly hoping that the ring itself wouldn't be torched as it was at FIGHT NIGHT 2010.

ACW's Original Femme Fatale had no such plans. The burning mess she held in her gloved hands had only one purpose.

To bring forth the downfall of Omega.

SMACK!

Whatever little Omega had left following Fejona's earlier Onslaught had been well and truly beaten out of him. At the Broadcast Booth, Renaud Cardinal was screaming for EMTs to get their asses down to the ring. Fejona laughed, tossed the no-longer-on-fire 'Barb' aside and raised her arms up above her head.

She was on the verge of fulfilling what she'd set out to accomplish ever since her return to ACW. One final thing awaited.

Fejona got to her knees, rolled Omega over, and hooked the legs. Everybody and their mother knew that the count was academic;

ONE.

TWO.

THREE.

And there you had it. Lucky You by The Deftones blared over the speakers, but was immediately drowned out by the overwhelming chorus of jeers and rabid rioting from the fans.

If the scene earlier on during the conclusion of the KSZ/Vincent showdown was one of joyous celebrations, this was an absolute contrast. Fans were screaming their hearts out and threatening to jump over the security barricade. Renaud Cardinal threw his headset down against the Broadcast Booth and lamented the methods the Rogue Slayer had employed to take Omega out.

Fejona Min heard nothing. She got to her feet, retrieved 'Barb', and extended out her other hand to receive her prize. The almighty Scorpion Fighting title belt.

Once more, in her possession. Once more, in her custody.

Despite the outrage of practically everyone in the vicinity of the ring, nobody could deny the facts. On this night, Fejona Min had slain Omega and done what nobody else could do. More importantly for her?

Fejona Min had become the new Scorpion Fighting Champ. And that, friends, meant all hell was about to break loose.

"Finally. We're together again."

WINNER: Fejona Min via PINFALL; becomes NEW ACW Scorpion Fighting Champion!

Attacked!

After all that heavy stuff, it's time for something light-hearted, yes? You got it.

Hey, look! It was Kristinia Kage standing backstage, in front of the COURAGE backdrop.

And she had a neck collar wrapped around her neck, too. Yikes. What happened there? This looks like a job for Jenna McMullen. Where was Jenna, by the way?

It appeared as if Kristinia was waiting for Jenna, and looked around anxiously. Seconds passed, and nothing. Shrugging her shoulders, Kristinia tightened her grip on the microphone in her hands. Seemed as though she was going to fly solo tonight.

"I guess Jenna got held up somewhere." Kristinia stated, right eyebrow arched. "Anyways, it's good to be here in Finland.

I wrestled here before, in the late 90s. Fun times. I know Finland isn't exactly the wrestling capital of Europe, but it's always a pleasure to entertain new crowds. And this is definitely a new market for ACW, coming off what I hear people describing as a hugely successful tour of Eastern Europe. Culminating with FIGHT NIGHT 2010, which has of course been lauded by many of our fans.

I was actually looking forward to FIGHT NIGHT 2010. I'm not going to say I stood a great chance of winning or placing amongst the top four, but I figured that I would be able to fare reasonably well. Unfortunately, I didn't get the opportunity to compete.

... Because I was attacked!"

Ooooh, suspense! Kristinia was last seen at COURAGE COUNTDOWN TO DISASTER held one night before FIGHT NIGHT 2010, where she and Kati triumphed over Sharc in a Handicapped Fight. It was Kristinia that got the decisive pinfall over Psycopathy Red that occassion.

Since then, Kristinia hadn't been seen or heard of until now. Perhaps she was about to reveal who attacked her, and therefore solve the mystery of the mysterious neck collar? Magic 8-ball says, count on it.

Kristinia was visibly shaking with rage. "That's right, I was brutally attacked in the parking lot hours before the pay-per-view was scheduled to get underway. Thankfully, I am much better now and I will... be competing in the Battle Royale tonight. But while the chance to get involved in the King Of Ages tournament is certainly very exciting, I'm very disappointed about what happened at FIGHT NIGHT.

Especially since I've just found out who my assailant is. Thanks to some help from the production crew, I was able to obtain footage of my brutal beatdown. And needless to say, I was more than shocked to find out who it was. The initial wave of shock subsided quickly, because it all made sense when I thought about it.

Kati."

Oh snap! Kati was the assailant? The fans didn't like it one bit at all. Kristinia had become a favourite of theirs.

And Kati? Why, that rebellious vixen had joined forces with the one and only Z. He's the epitome of evil, and what-have-you. Kristinia seethed, but managed to calm herself down.

"Yes, it was Kati. She and I have had a difference of opinions for a while now!" Kristinia explained. "And to think, it all began with me wanting to help her out, and extend a listening ear should she need it. Not only did she attack me brutally after that, Kati has constantly gotten on my case, leading up to what I feel is an unprovoked attack on me.

Well, Kati. You want to play rough and tough? You think linking up with a masked freak is going to be protection enough for you? Think again, young lady. Tonight, in the Battle Royale, I'm going to give you a taste of revenge. And then, over the next few weeks, I warn that I will do nothing except make sure you pay for what you've done. You don't want my help? Fine.

You'll get my full wrath instead. I hope you're ready!"

Whoa, a side of Kristinia Kage not many people had ever seen. The fans cheered; they were certainly riled up.

And as if to hammer home her point, Kristinia ripped off her neck collar and tossed it to the ground, right before chucking her microphone aside and walking out of frame. The funny thing was, somebody else popped into the view of the camera just eight seconds later. Guess who?

It was Jenna McMullen. Ha!

"What did I miss? Has Kristinia been by?" Jenna queried in between her panting.

Oh, silly Jenna McMullen. You missed a hell of a lot. So much for light-hearted, by the by.

C O M M E R C I A L S

SINGLES MATCH - STANDARD RULES
JP Boudreau vs. Noah Spencer
REFEREE: TRENT SAVAGE

The cameras at the ringside area kicked back up. Tommy Vale stood center of the ring, while JP Boudreau looked ready to get the next match underway. Standing across from Boudreau was a man that Vale had just introduced as new comer to ACW Noah Spencer.

Vale was exiting the ring having already made his introductions of both men, and Trent Savage signaled for the bell.

DING! DING! DING!

Boudreau was ready to size up his opponent when at the sound of the bell Spencer darted toward him. JP dove toward the approaching Spencer, but Noah dropped to a knee sliding around behind Boudreau. Noah wrapped his arms around JP’s waist, and looked to attempt a belly-to-back suplex, but Boudreau wrapped his leg around Noah’s.

Boudreau drove several elbow shots to the side of Spencer’s head causing him to release the waist lock. Before Spencer could retaliate JP had already dropped him to the mat with a double leg takedown. Boudreau flipped Spencer onto his back applying his own waist lock and lifting the smaller man back to his feet.

JP lifted and tossed Spencer over with a German suplex, but somehow Spencer landed on his feet. Boudreau rolled to his knees to look at the damage he had done, but all he caught was Noah darting at him. Boudreau’s hands had been resting on his left knee, but now the only thing resting on it was Spencer’s foot as he climbed it and brought the other knee into the face of the Montreal Frog.

Noah jumped back to his feet looking to take advantage of the situation as JP lay on the mats holding his face. Spencer shot toward the ropes, and came back through dropping a quick leg drop across the throat of Boudreau. Noah grabbed JP by the neck, wrapping his arm around it, and lifted him back to his feet.

Noah looked set to drive Boudreau back down to the mat with a suplex, but once again JP wrapped his leg around Spencer’s. And before he knew it Boudreau slipped his hand between Spencer’s legs and lifted him onto his shoulders. JP could have gone for any move from the fireman’s carry position, but when he turned to bring Spencer back to the center of the ring one of Noah’s boots caught Savage square in the face.

Trent fell to the mat holding his face and JP quickly sat Spencer back down on his feet and began checking on the ref. Noah hadn’t been in ACW long enough to care about the ref, he just wanted to make an impact tonight and he darted for the ropes. He sprang to the top in one single move and as JP turned back around he was met with Noah flipping off of the top rope moonsault style, but was his aim off?

Nope, it wasn’t off Spencer landed perfect as he grabbed hold of JP’s neck driving him down to the mat with a reverse DDT on his way down. This was a maneuver that Noah Spencer liked to call Fish Hooked!

The fans in the arena finally came to life at the sight of the move, but that wasn’t all. As Noah had JP’s leg pulled up in the pin attempt it became evident that Savage still hadn’t recovered, but the other thing the fans were shouting about was the other man who had managed to slip into the ring.

Noah twisted around on the mat looking to find Savage and get him ready to make the pin attempt, but as he made his way to his knees the man pounced. Charging at Noah he leapt grabbing him by the neck and driving him down to the mat with a rolling neck breaker.

Noah squirmed on the mat from the impact of the move, and the man grabbed hold of JP pulling his arm across Noah’s chest. The unknown man quickly slipped back out of the ring just as Savage was shaking off the cobwebs and noticed JP’s arm drenched across his foe’s waist.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE!

Savage helped JP back to his feet and raised his arm in victory as both men noticed the unknown fighter slithering back into the ring holding a microphone. Savage looked on at Boudreau confused, but neither had seen what had transpired before the pin fall could happen.

They both exited the ring, as the man continued to crawl on his belly toward the downed Noah Spencer. His heavy breathing could be heard over the speakers of the arena as he came nose to nose with Spencer.

“You thought you could run from me, didn’t you Spencer?” The man spoke softly into the microphone, his venom spewing from his mouth.

“You were so naive to think those talent scouts wouldn’t have given us both a contract that night.” He continued his heavy breathing over top of his downed prey. “Your talent isn’t what brought you here Noah, it was the fact that I made you look good in that ring every single night.”

The man continued to slither around the head of the fallen Noah Spencer, “I told you Noah that before you and I were finished I was going to break you. I was going to take everything that you held dear in your life and I was going to squeeze the life out of it. You will never be able to run from me, you will never be able to hide.”

“Your family can’t afford for you to back out of this contract deal Noah,” the fan chuckled a bit over top of Noah’s face. “My fangs are sunk in deep beneath your flesh Noah, and soon you will begin to decay. And when I am done with you, your boy Noah, he’ll be calling Coral Decanter daddy and there will be nothing you can do about it.”

Noticing Spencer beginning to stir the man slowly slithered back out of the ring and began making his way up the ramp as “Hate Machine” by Black Water Rising began to play throughout the arena. The sound of the music brought Noah back to life quickly and as he shook his head he turned to the ramp and a pale look crossed his face as though he had seen a ghost.

WINNER: JP Boudreau via PINFALL.

Two Sides...

"So how goes it feel to be back at the helm again?"

SilverHAWK looked up at his long-time friend, Joe Bishop, with a little smirk on his face. In one sense Bishop was ever so slightly ribbing the ACW General Manager and in the other sense, he was being honest.

SilverHAWK was back in charge; but for how long?

"I'm just looking over the roster for this arc... I'm putting a lot of weight onto King of Ages. I hope the other guys in the back aren't put off by it if they don't get through tonight."

Bishop took a look through the names, including a few new faces that we would see in the upcoming weeks.

"HAWK. You got the best roster on the damn planet. Bar none. Who the hell can touch us right now? Nobody. What we gotta do is give these guys something to aim at. Something to fight for... and a big shiny crown is fucking ideal."

HAWK could feel a headache coming on... where was that Jack Daniels when you needed it.

"Jack Daniels..."

Bishop looked up at HAWK's rather blank expression.

"You OK, Boss?"

SilverHAWK shook the cobwebs clear.

"Yeah, just a little worried Bishop, that's all."

Both men knew instantly who they were speaking about.

"He'll pull throug,h man... when has he never?"

SilverHAWK peered out his office window as Jeremy Hunt passed on by...a sudden urge to plough a knife through that man's head overthrew all his thoughts.

"That's the point, Bishop... when has he never? Gotta end sometime."

...To Every Story

"What a night, WAR! What a fucking night!"

WAR was a little taken aback that his boss would use such language in public, but Hunt could be forgiven tonight to thinking he had won.

Nobody else knew of his victory apart from himself, WAR, Koschei and the missing Alias. The Black Title was now in the hands of the Carrion, and it was still unclear exactly what the final piece of Hunt's plan was... but did it involve anyone else in ACW?

"You got a hold of Carrion, didn't you? My baby is ok?"

WAR nodded.

"Good. We can't have any slip ups now... the man upstairs wouldn't be too happy if we failed him now."

Did Hunt suddenly become the religious type? Or was he working for a higher power?

"Just make sure you stay on top of Koschei... he needs to make sure he is doing what he is told, WAR; he knows the consequences!"

The large Russian bodyguard knew what Hunt spoke of, but he wasn't too happy about it.

"WAR... I have a good feeling about this, finally everything is going to plan. Just who can stop us now?"

Oh Hunt... why did you have to go and say that?

Chinese checkers.

Rud Albion. Buddy Saxon.

Formerly known as England's Best. More importantly, former ACW Tag Team Champions.

But now? Thanks to the machinations of The Entourage, England's Best were no more. But Albion and Saxon were still very much the best of pals, and even though they could no longer team up together to take on the world, they could still hang out together. And they would. Albion was happy to have Buddy somewhat shadowing him and learning from him, just as much as Buddy enjoyed looking up to the Bronze Lion and soaking up all sorts of knowledge from his friend.

"Hey, Rud?" Buddy asked, as the two were found in Albion's locker-room playing Chinese checkers.

After making his move on the game-board, Rud leaned back and grinned. "Yes, Boy? What's on your mind?"

"I was thinking about this King Of Ages tournament thing." Saxon responded, frowning at the game-board. It seemed as if he was needing a miracle to win. "So, basically, whoever wins this Battle Royale later on gets to advance to the semi-finals, aye? And in total, 10 people will qualify and advance to the next stage?"

The Brummie Bulldog nodded, watching closely as Saxon was decidng where he should move his marbles next.

And once he did, The Bournemouth Boy afforded himself a gleeful smile. "And whoever wins this King Of Ages gets a reward that's called the King's Choice? The power to do anything or ask for anything? Basically, like the Infinity Gauntlet?"

Buddy Saxon was all excited now. Albion's straightened in his seat. He was wise to Buddy's train of thought.

"Not quite exactly as the Infinity Gauntlet, Boy. But aye, you're right -- the King's Choice DOES award the owner the option to do basically anything with it. But going back to the Gauntlet; I'll take it as you've read the paperback I've given you, then?"

Buddy nodded his head enthusiastically, before realising Albion's latest move on the game-board left him in deep trouble.

"Yes, I did! And I loved how Thanos got his at the end!" Saxon babbled excitedly. "But think about it, Rud! If either one of us wins the King Of Ages tournament, we can use the King's Choice to reform England's Best! And then, and then... we can go after The Entourage one more time and prove that we're the better team!

And in the process, we can become the first team in history to become two-time ACW Tag Team Champions! England's Best lives again! Mothers, lock up your daughters! Even Thanos himself would be impressed, I'd say!"

The Bronze Lion thought about it for a second. Sure, the King's Choice could be used to reform England's Best. The King's Choice could also be utilised to demand for a shot at the ACW World Title. Hell, the possibilities were limitless. Endless. The door had been opened for whoever ended up owning the King's Choice to impose his or her own will upon ACW, thereby exposig the capacity for much mayhem.

But as Albion made his final move on the game-board and thereby won the game, he looked up at Saxon. Rud stared deep into Buddy's eyes.

A realisation was had. A decision had been arrived at.

"You're onto something there, Boy. It's a deal!" Albion proudly stated as he reached over and gave Buddy a high-five.

Saxon, naturally, squealed. Better than any cookie in the world. "You know, Chinese checkers didn't originate in any part of Asia. It isn't a variation of the traditional checkers game! Believe it or not, this game originated in Germany of all places, and is actually something of a spin-off of an American game which was in turn inspired by an English game!"

Albion blinked as he stood to his feet and glanced at the wall-clock nearby. That was some impressive stuff.

"We've got some time to kill before the Battle Royale." Albion mused. "Do tell me more."

And Buddy Saxon squealed again. Oh, that Bournemouth Boy.

England's Best may have been no more... but the friendship between the two men that took the world by storm for 60-odd days? It would never end.

... Or would it?

interesting

Paige Allen. ACW's hottest referee of all eternity.

Let's face it, who wouldn't want to be the girlfriend to the fiery redhead? But, see, on this fair night... Paige was having a bit of a crisis. She was seated on a bench in the hallway, breathing very heavily. Fact was, she had just encountered a bite-sized panic attack.

It had been a long time since Paige last saw Chris Moliano -- her boyfriend and former Spirit Of ACW Champ -- escape into the night. Nobody quite knew why. Paige herself wasn't wise to the details. All she knew was, as COURAGE 114 barrelled on with its unpredictably, Moliano must have heard or seen something that shocked him to the core of his soul.

And that was that. He snapped later in that evening, leaving him in a funky mood for the week that followed. And after winning his match on COURAGE 115, Moliano escaped into the night without a word to his paramour, and Paige was left all alone. Attempts to reach Chris? Ultimately futile.

She could be forgiven, then, for having a panic attack as her mind chose to replay the events of COURAGE 115 for whatever reason. Closing her eyes and leaning her head against the wall behind her, Paige thought about how being involved in ACW was becoming increasingly tough. Traveling across Europe was a perk, sure. If you discount some of the hotel rooms that the ACW roster and staff stayed in during the tour of Eastern Europe. But her part-time studies and her social life were taking quite the literal beating.

"You okay, Paige?" a kindly voice offered.

Allen opened her eyes and turned to the side. It was fellow referee, Trent Savage. He'd just officiated a match not too long ago.

"I-I'm fine, Trent. Thank you." Paige responded, before offering Trent a seat next to her.

Savage smiled and nodded. "Don't mind if I do."

Truth be told, Trent was more than a little pleased. He'd always had a crush on Paige Allen. And although he felt genuine concern for Paige's boyfriend disappearing, young Savage couldn't help but think this was a sign from a higher being. A sign that perhaps Trent was destined to end up with Paige at the end of the night.

Why, Trent had half a mind to jump into Paige's lap and plant her with a fantastic liplock that'd surely lead to the hottest banging Finland has ever seen since... uhh, well, the last one. Whatever that would be.

"You, ah, heard about Henry, then?" Trent spoke up. It was his attempt at breaking the silence AND making con-ver-sa-tion.

Paige half-nodded, still lost in her own thoughts. "Yes, I'm glad he's okay. I mean, it's not the same without him around here. And making ME interim 'senior referee'? Sheesh, I'm enough of a mess as it is. I hope Henry gets back soon, but when he's good and ready."

Trent too hoped that ol' Ironsides would be back in the flesh sooner rather than later. He was an inspiration.

"Ditto on that." Trent responded, right before smiling. "And hey, if you... uh... ever need anybody to talk to or just listen? I'm there. I've had a lot of experience with my sister.

For now, Miss Interim Senior Referee? We have a Battle Royale to attend to!"

Shooting to his feet, Trent extended out his left arm at Paige and gave her a reassuring grin of cookiness. He might have been lusting after Paige for a while, but he was first and foremost a friend to her.

Trent's reassuring grin made Paige chuckle. Hell, it perked her right the heck up. Allen slowly got to her feet, interlocked her arm with Trent's, and bounced down the hallway together. The night for them was not over.

... And further down the hallway, like the pervert that he was, Z rubbed his gloved hands together.

"Hh. Interesting."

who has the bigger di... ck?

At FIGHT NIGHT 2010, many an All-Star got all up in each other's business.

One such instance featured a man who used to wield the Scorpion Fighting Championship and another man who has waxed poetic on numerous instances on the supposed power of that very title belt. Iceman and Sven Avsbern.

And here they were, standing in front of a notice-board that all the All-Stars checked for their upcoming matches and whatnot. Only inches of daylight separated both men. Sven was expressionless, Iceman was fuming for some reason.

"You are a cocksucker."

Ever the cunning linguist, that Iceman. Sven didn't flinch.

"I grow tired of your supposed claims as the best, Iceman!" the Swedish War Machine suddenly quipped, startling Iceman who was about to speak again. "Fact of the matter is, at FIGHT NIGHT, none of us quite achieved what we individually aspired to accomplish. Both of us finished with a measely four points apiece.

I of course would have done much better had you not blindsided me at the beginning of the Challenge, which prevented me from consuming my pills. I did not appreciate that in the slightest, and I therefore have a bone to pick with you."

The former Scorpion Fighting Champ shook his head and chortled. "Pills. Bah. Old man, you don't DESERVE to be in ACW. You're washed up. What have you done over the last two months? Competed in some dark matches and beaten Jade Argent? Not exactly something to be proud of.

Like I told you on COURAGE 115, I will not be denied what is rightfully mine. I may not have set the world ablaze at FIGHT NIGHT, but I'm still shaking off Omega cheating big time during our duel at LEGENDS. Thank fuck he's no longer the Champion, by the by. But anyways, you'll see. Everybody will see.

Give me a couple of weeks, and I'll be back in tip-top shape. And I'll get what I deserve.

Oh, and, at least I don't have to resort to taking pills, you cocksucker. I bet those pills are illegal, too. You should be banned.

... Cocksucker."

Sven Avsbern smiled. Yes, he actually smiled.

Iceman found it creepy that the man he'd just insulted several times in the space of sixty seconds was grinning at him.

But then, The Swedish War Machine had a retort of his own lined up. "You're quite the deluded pussy, aren't you? I shall not waste too much of my time picking apart whatever you've said, other than point out that my pills are actually prescription pills and authorised by our General Manager. Thanks for your concern, however.

I will also kindly bring to your attention that on COURAGE 115, during the chaotic backstage melee that *you* instigated, I choked you out. Of course, you repaid me in kind by doing what you did at FIGHT NIGHT... but tell me, Iceman, how did it feel to get choked out like that?

How did it feel to be absolutely helpless and reduced to a whimpering mess?

I, Iceman, am destined for greater things. You are insignificant. Yet, I cannot forgive you for your abhorrent tactics at FIGHT NIGHT. Hence, I propose to you that we settle our differences the only sensible way. Next week, on COURAGE 117?

I challenge you to a fight."

The fans watching on the SlyTron? They were already going insane with cheers because Sven Avsbern was a badass that made his name fighting throughout Scandinavia for the better part of his initial stage of his career. But Sven being all cool and challenging Iceman to a fight?

Well, that just made them roar even louder in approval. Shame about next week's edition of COURAGE being in Norway then, huh?

Ahem. Anyways. Iceman blinked and frowned a little bit. A fight against the Swedish War Machine? Had he bitten enough more than he could possibly chew?

Fuck no. This is Iceman, bitches. He's always game for a fight.

"You're on, cocksucker. I look forward to bashing your skull in!" Iceman proclaimed haughtily.

And then, the staredown resumed. Next week, in Oslo? There's going to be one HELL of a fight to look forward to.

Who would win? You'd just have to wait like everybody else.

unstable

Jenna McMullen. Backstage. COURAGE backdrop.

Yup, it's time for MORE juicy interview fun. Yayness!

"Hi, everybody!" Jenna shrieked with much enthusiasm. "COURAGE 116 has been a roller-coaster ride so far, and we're minutes away from this momumental 2010 King Of Ages Preliminary Qualifying Battle Royale, which kicks of the 2010 King Of Ages tournament featuring a number of people who were involved in that gruelling Scorpion Fight Night Challenge.

I'm standing by, however, with somebody who did not unfortunately get the chance to compete at FIGHT NIGHT 2010. And unlike Kristinia Kage, it wasn't because he was taken out before the fight. I actually don't know WHY he was not included, but I'm very sure he'll tell us now.

Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce... Rory Hayes!"

Jenna stepped to the side and allowed the Boston Mangler to step into the frame. Many a groan rang out from the fans watching on the SlyTron.

Those catching the broadcast at home? They threw their ham sandwiches at the television. Yeah.

Hayes scowled at the frosty reception he was garnering, slowly bringing the microphone in his hand up to his lips.

And everybody knew Hayes was about to go off on a filthy rant. "You know what pisses me off? I've been in ACW for a while now, yet I'm still treated like a joke. I'm still being treated like I was when I first came into ACW in 2005. Even though I don't have the BEST win-loss record, I was under the assumption that the blasted Scorpion Fight Night Challenge was going to involve EVERYBODY on the roster.

EVERYBODY except me, it seems! Fucking son of a bitch, even those Abilities fags and some other fucking idiots that divide their time like I do between ACW and the All-Star Academy got to be involved. Me? I was told very nicely by some jackass with a SlySports clipboard that it would be better for my so-called general interest if I didn't take part. I was being talked down to by somebody I would have smacked around back in the day.

I'm so sick and tired of being considered a fucking afterthought around here. Fucking hell!"

Hayes glared at the camera, his nostrils flaring wildly and his eyes widened in pure outrage. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Jenna looked a bit worried at Rory's outburst, so she kept her distance. "Errm. Yeah, that's a real shame. On the same thread, you're also not included in the Battle Royale that's coming up in a few moments. What do you think about that, Hayes?

Why do you think you've been excluded from this groundbreaking Battle Royale with major implications for the 2010 King Of Ages tournament?"

The Masshole lowered his head for a second, trying his hardest not to blow his top. It was a challenge, and his efforts didn't last long.

"It's just another example of the injustice that I'm being subjected to. I should be in that fucking Battle Royale!" Rory spat out with venom as he set his eyes on the camerman again. "I should be given a fair shot at being the 2010 King Of Ages! But nooo, immediately after they announce the Battle Royale, I get passed a note telling me not get my hopes up. Complete with that idiotic SlySports logo at the right-hand corner.

I don't know how many times I have to say the word 'fuck' or a variation of it to get my anger across.

Aarrrrrrghh! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCCCCCK! I'm sick of all of this! Fuckity fuck fuck fuck! Iceman gets to be involved?! Kati?! Christ almighty, why do *they* get a shot and I don't? Fucking sabotage, that's why! I'm being shafted!"

Perfectly encapsulating his mood at that moment, Rory Hayes turned around and actually kicked out at the snazzy COURAGE backdrop, knocking it over! Jenna yelped and scampered away, not wanting to risk being hit by Hayes.

The fans watching on? They 'oohed' and 'aahed', but subsequently slipped back into a state of disinterest.

The Boston Mangler looked down at the broken backdrop and breathed heavily. He was about six seconds away from totally flipping out, but reined himself under control. Slowly turning back to face the camera, Hayes used his free hand to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead. It was a stressful time for him, but for some reason, there was a gleam in Rory's eyes.

And for the first time since the segment began, Rory Hayes appeared to be calm. What the what?

"You know something? I've been preaching for a long time that I was going to turn the corner and finally take my place as the best in this company. This time, I mean it. You can call this a moment of clarity or a divine realisation or what-the-fuck-ever. Next week, I will get back on the winning track. First, I'm going to finally win that blasted Scorpion Fighting Title. After that? After I cement myself as the most fucking badass Scorpion Fighting Champion?

I'm going to run fucking roughshod over everyone else and become the ACW World Champion. That's right, I've got high ambitions? What of it? If fucking Trey Vincent could cheat his way to the World Title, I'll grind my way to the top in no time. And once I get there, I'm going to make sure nobody treats me like a goddamn joke any fucking longer.

That's all I gotta say about that!"

Rory Hayes let his microphone slip out of his fingers and drop to the ground, right before he shuffled off into the distance. The Boston Mangler had said his piece, and once more -- as he'd done in the past -- made a bold proclaimation about getting over his shambolic rut.

With the unstable Hayes gone, Jenna tiptoed back into frame, looking mighty relieved.

"Well, then!" she spoke up, her free hand pressed against her ample bosom. "That'll be the last time I talk to that creep! Sheesh.

Anyway, folks. We have one last set of commercial breaks, and then? It's time for the main event.

See you in a few!"

And with that, it was just about time for the Battle Royale. Whoo!

C O M M E R C I A L S

2010 KING OF AGES TOURNAMENT PRELIMINARY QUALIFYING BATTLE ROYALE
A Veritable Who's Who of the ACW Roster
REFEREES: ALL OF 'EM

Finally, it was time.

20 men and women had been selected to compete in the Battle Royale, which served as a precusor for the 2010 King Of Ages tournament. The last of its kind was held in 2004, where the mysterious God's Forgotten Son ended up besting the burgeoning favourite Quinton May in one heck of a Ladder Match to become the 2004 King Of Ages. One year prior, Khristain Keller beat 'Superstar' Vince Jacobs to be crowned the 2003 King Of Ages.

Who would, then, survive the night and go on to become the 2010 King Of Ages?

Would it be Jesse Ramey? He who had gone over the deep end in recent times, looking crazier than ever and having a new theme song? Maybe it would be John Sarsgaard? Orlando Grant? Kati? Or how about the current Spirit Of ACW Champion himself, Midnight Cowboy? Cowboy was slapping hands with the fans seated in the front rows, and giving some of the kids the chance to pat his shiny and historic title belt.

Inside the ring, Malk Al-Haq -- no longer the United States Champion (All-Star Academy for the win) growled at Cowboy. Hey, perhaps Malk would shock everyone and win the damned Battle Royale to spark off a fantastic run en route to being crowned the 2010 King Of Ages? Anything's possible, yeah?

Kristinia Kage, Ryan Billows, Iceman, Khristain Keller and 'Superstar' Vince Jacobs stood in one corner of the ring, contemplating what was about to happen. Across from them? Rud Albion, Buddy Saxon, Jade Argent (who was scowling at Vince Jacobs for what had happened earlier in the evening) and Sepiroth Du Luc (fighting fit after being medically cleared to do so). This was turning out to be quite the star-studded line-up, and there were yet a few more introductions to go.

Such as, Pet by A Perfect Circle. Out came 'The Alpha Dog' Mark Weiler, flanked by Jack Harris. The two men had been impressive at FIGHT NIGHT 2010. Weiler more so. But of course, when you're backed by SlySports Entertainment LLC, you better be delivering big time. Everybody in the ring, good and bad guys alike, turned to scowl at the dogs of SlySports. Who had conveniently chosen to remain at ringside, surveying their potential targets.

If you thought the jeers of the fans were loud then, imagine the reception when Zero by the Smashing Pumpkins blared over the speakers.

The Masked Enigma. The Dastardly Mastermind. The Caped Crusader. That's right, Z was in the house!

And already without his trenchcoat. Z soaked up the hatred served up to him by the fans and marched down to the ring, cautiously aware that he had a few enemies in there. Still, as Z entered the ring, he was pleased to find that nobody was making a move. Yet. The Caped Crusader waved at Vince Jacobs (who ignored him), stuck out his tongue at John Sarsgaard (who fumed), and gave a reassuring nod to his newest lieutenant Kati.

With Z's introduction, that accounted for 16 eager All-Stars now in the ring (and two on the outside), including Ryan Billows who had shockingly debuted earlier in the evening. 16 of ACW's best and brightest.

There was still two more combatants left to enter, however, before the main event could begin. Before the hotly-anticipated 2010 King Of Ages tournament could well and truly kick off.

One of them?

There Alias lay, dying, dead, alone, in a Moscow back alley... nameless and unknown, save for the black cat by a well-kept dumpster. The humming of some kind of machine in the background.

Sympathy for the Devil by the Rolling Stones ripped through the the Hartwall Areena, and a few hearts sunk as if they were seeing a ghost. A spectre of vengeance.

The humming of a machine, as Alias lay there. A shell of what he was at the start of the night, and as the Original Pulp Hero settled into Moscow mud, the footsteps could be heard walking up to his body. Was it one of the men who dumped his body in the alley, looking to put a bullet in his brain to finish the job? No, instead it was a man familiar to Alias... and as that man knelt before the Pulp Hero, he could only shake his head and sigh, as he whispered something to Whiskey Jack.

"I always expected the end of the world to look different."

A spotlight shone down on the stage.

He had returned.

...

M A S T E R S.

Kellen Masters to be more presice. The King Of Submissions had returned to an ACW ring for the first time since LEGENDS III. The man known as Machine was all business, his short cut black hair, his black and white trunks just waiting to be splattered with blood. Taped wrists. All of that, and the fear of god he was putting into the hearts of men, by walking to the ring to the tune... of the Pulp Hero's music. Evidently, Masters knew something that many others didn't.

Within moments, Masters stood in the ring with with more than a dozen men and women, all going 'hol-ee shiat'. Hunt's dogs on the outside? Confused as all hell, but determined not to let this latest blindside rattle them.

Until, of course, Soundgarden's My Wave started up over the sound system. Aw hell naw, sonny.

Keith. Scott. Zimmerman.

Your NEW World Champion, just for the record. In case you forgot.

The fans went completely BATSHIT crazy and nearly everybody at ringside choked on their own spit. KSZ, sans his lovely fairer half, with the ACW World Title wrapped around his waist. Looked like the Only Wrestler That Matters was not content with being the World Champ; he had a thirst for wanting to go down as the all-time best in ACW, and adding the 2010 King Of Ages to his CV would be just feckin' dandy. Whoo.

Smirking it up big time, Keith rounded the ring and handed over his World Title over to Tommy Vale, who seemed in awe of the Champ. Keith just shrugged, as if to say 'I am indeed that awesome' and rolled into the ring, immediately aware of everyone giving him them evil eyes.

Keith cracked his knuckles and smirked again. "This will be the perfect ending to a perfect day." Oooh, bold words there, Keith.

Once all the referees finished their huddled discussion, the lovely Paige Allen turned to the esteemed Tommy Vale and gave the signal.

DING DING DING!

And now, the Battle Royale was officially underway. Just as Mark Weiler and Jack Harris decided to slide into the ring to kick off the festivities, though, a curious number of things happened mere seconds later. The fans were understandably confused and baffled, as were the esteemed personalities helming the Broadcast Booth calling the action.

For one, they were still going apeshit over the return of Masters to ACW. Once upon a time, Kelly Masters. Now? Kellen 'Machine' Masters. Slight change in name, but still one heck of a physical specimen. Keith Scott Zimmerman, the World Champ, being involved in the Battle Royale? Also thoroughly mind-blowing. But, at the same time, the sight of Z exiting the ring through the ropes made everyone wonder what the heck was going on. And as Jack Harris and Mark Weiler took their place in the ring, they were shocked at the sight that greeted them.

Everyone else left in the ring had cozied up next to each other. Shoulder to shoulder, all seemingly staring at the hired dogs of SlySports Entertainment LLC. It was literally a case of a ring divided; two on one end, 17 on the other end. On the outside, Z merely watched on with his hands on hips. It wasn't until Jack Harris took a few steps away from Mark Weiler that the Caped Crusader smiled devilishly.

The Alpha Dog looked over his shoulder, and narrowed his eyes at The Pikey Madman. Harris shrugged his shoulders, and joined Z in escaping the ring through the ropes. Suddenly, everything began to make a little more sense.

It sure as hell did to Mark Weiler, anyway. And the realisation hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Cocksucker!" Iceman yelled out, before sprinting towards Weiler, leading the charge. Everyone else followed suit a second later, and within a matter of moments, Mark Weiler was being overrun by 17 All-Stars, each kicking away at the Alpha Dog like their lives depended on it.

This was a straight-up mugging, ya'all. No questions asked.

During the course of FIGHT NIGHT 2010, Mark Weiler didn't hold back and layeth the smackdown on many different All-Stars. All in terrifying and gruesome ways. All with the use of his bare hands. Khristain Keller and Max Danger were among the worst hit. And while Danger got a measure of payback on that night (and was absent on this night), The King Shit of Fuck Mountain had been waiting two weeks for a chance like this to pop up.

Pushing everybody including Iceman aside, Keller looked down at the fallen Weiler. He was by no means completely destroyed yet, but the effects of the gang beating he'd just received would resonate throughout every fibre of his being for a long time to come. Still, K2 thought that was not enough. And to that end, Keller decided to ramp up the punishment. Starting with a swift kick to the bollocks.

Ooooh, yeah. I went British there. That means this is SERIOUS BIZNASS, people.

Anyway, ahem, yeah. Weiler was left tending to his balls, and Keller went on to drag Weiler up to his feet. K2 wasn't intimidated by the size of the Scourge of the Squared Circle. He'd taken out bigger and badder. Still, The King Shit Of Fuck Mountain realised that he couldn't take out Weiler all on his own.

CRUNCH~!

And after one hell of a jumping headbutt that broke Weiler's nose, Keller recovered nicely to send the Alpha Dog flying across the ring. Right into the crosshairs of the spankin' brand new World Champion. Oh yeah, you know what was coming.

HIT MY MUSIC! The fans popped big time for that. Weiler? He was almost as done as dinner, staggering backwards.

Right back into Keller's path. Khristain smirked as he turned the Alpha Dog around. He was going to enjoy this.

Kick. WHAM. PAINKILLA!

"Do your worst, cuntos." Keller ordered, grimacing as he stood up. His body was still in extreme pain, but mixed in with the sensation of having just laid out Mark Weiler? Why, K2 felt just a tad bit reinvigorated.

At any rate, with that open invitation, everybody except Zimmerman went ahead and attacked Weiler like the wild pack of savages that they were. Zimmerman didn't budge, because Keller was staring him down. Everybody knew K2 wanted to eventually reclaim the ACW World Title once all the madness revolving around FIGHT NIGHT was done and over with. And seeing how he'd just condemned Weiler to the last level of Hell, Keller felt this would be a good a time as any to get him some of KSZ.

The two men nodded at each other, as if to signify a mutual understanding. And then, they lunged at each other.

On the outside, Jack Harris received instructions from Z, and the Pikey Madman quickly climbed into the ring. No, he didn't join in on the attack on Weiler. He instead inserted himself into the brawl between KSZ and Khristain Keller. As for Z?

The Masked Enigma chose to stay on the outside. He was having too much fun watching all the mayhem unfurl in the ring.

And what of Mark Weiler? He'd been thoroughly beaten to a bloody pulp, and it took six All-Stars to peel his massive frame from the canvas. But once he was up, Iceman took control again, smacking The Alpha Dog across the face with a forearm smash. From there, Iceman somehow mustered up the strength to lift the Scourge of the Squared Circle up onto his shoulders.

Seconds later, it had been done. One of the favourites to win the Battle Royale, helped by his stellar showing two weeks ago at FIGHT NIGHT 2010, had been the first to be booted out of the running -- in some fashion -- to become the 2010 King Of Ages. And surely, nobody thought that it would be Iceman of all people that would have that honour.

ELIMINATED: 'The Alpha Dog' Mark Weiler -- by Iceman

But there it was, for official confirmation and whatnot. Iceman raised his arms in the air and threw his head back.

"I did it, cocksuckers! I and I alone took him out!"

Well, a bit of revisionist history there. Iceman may have eliminated Mark Weiler, but he had a lot of help. One of whom from the man currently sneaking up behind the former Scorpion Fighting Champ. And he happened to be the new bad boy in town.

Ryan Billows, natch. Who didn't have to do much other than shove Iceman in the back, for the latter to be sent tumbling over the ropes and down to the ground. Just like that, Iceman too had been taken out of the equation entirely. If the fans exploded upon Mark Weiler's elimination, they ORGASMED at the sight of Iceman sitting on the floor, mouth gaping open in complete shock over what had just happened.

ELIMINATED: Iceman -- by Ryan Billows

By this time, everyone had splintered off and got down to the matter at hand. This was a Battle Royale with huge ramifications. It was truly every person for themselves. Only having banded together for a common cause, everybody now sized everybody else up and began to cause a scene. On the outside, Z cracked his knuckles and deftly slid into the ring, making a beeline for Rud Albion of all people.

Also on the outside, a whole bunch of EMTs came down to check on Mark Weiler. Iceman was throwing a tantrum. Suffice to say, both of them were not happy at being eliminated. There was one significant difference; for what it's worth, Iceman still had his health. Not the same could have been said for Mark Weiler.

In the ring, Jesse Ramey came very close to eliminating Malk Al-Haq. Alas, Malk held on to the ropes and nicely pulled himself back into the ring... only to get smashed in the face with a high knee strike by Midnight Cowboy. No love lost there, and the two rivals began their own little brawl. Keller by this point had been drawn away from Keith Scott Zimmerman, who was finding the combined efforts of Jack Harris and Kati a little too much to handle. Good thing Kristinia Kage came along, yeah?

Kristinia, who certainly had a bone to pick with Kati, immediately made a statement of intent by kicking Kati in the back of the head! Kati screamed out in pain as she staggered towards the corner turnbuckle. Kristinia gave chase, and followed up her roundhouse kick several seconds earlier with a pushing kick to the back of Kati's knees. That sent the girl with the toxic green hair down to her knees, agony of the highest level crippling her body. FIGHT NIGHT 2010 and its many exertions really did a number on her.

Kristinia didn't care. She took a few steps back, drove an elbow into the face of the incoming Khristian Keller, and charged right at Kati.

KAGED OUT!

Nice move from Kristinia Kage! Kati was down and out, and possibly very close to being eliminated.

Alas for Kristinia, taking time to leer down at Kati's broken body proved to be her downfall. Especially since Z was lurking around behind her, grinning like the Dastardly Mastermind that he is.

*shove*

And very much like the method Ryan Billows employed to take out Iceman, Kristinia Kage was sent packin' from the ring with an almighty shove from the Caped Crusader. Kristinia was out of the running to win the Battle Royale, and the Masked Enigma was pleased with himself.

ELIMINATED: Kristinia Kage -- by Z

Across the ring, Sepiroth Du Luc and Kellen Masters were getting it on. Vince Jacobs was fighting off Rud Albion and Buddy Saxon, while Kati was now being owned by Jesse Ramey. Perhaps the most important mini-battle going on?

Jack Harris and the new World Champion, Keith Scott Zimmerman. Jack had just manage to evade KSZ's awesome MURDERDEATHKEITH and clotheslined the living hell outta the Champ. From there, The Pikey Madman grabbed Zimmerman's throat and dragged him up to an upright position, although probably not for long. Can anyone say, chokeslam?

Too bad about Keith catching Harris in the right kneecap with a pushing kick, huh? And as if that wasn't enough, The Only Wrestler That Matters connected with a wicked gut-punch that broke Jack's hold on his neck. After that, there was only one thing left for KSZ to do.

HIT MY MUSIC!

As an added bonus, the force of Keith's awesome finishing move saw The Chancellor of Excellence stagger backwards and tumble over the ropes. Nobody was sure whether Keith intended to eliminate Harris that way, but the job was done regardless.

ELIMINATED: Jack Harris -- by Keith Scott Zimmerman

Meanwhile, an unusually quiet Jade Argent was standing in a corner of the ring. It was as if the Australian Opportunist was surveying the squared circle, figuring out his tactis. The sight of KSZ getting back up to his feet made Argent -- who still had a shot at the World Title tucked away in his back pocket -- smile. Argent sprung forth from the corner, and knocked KSZ down with a fierce clothesline. Turning around, Jade saw something else that made him smile.

Kati, using the ropes to pull herself back up to a vertical balance. Jade shrugged, rushed over and booted her right in the arse. The result was instant, and Kati was sent careening over the ropes. The laws of gravity made it hard for Kati to hold on, and she hit the ground with a less-than-pleased expression on her face. Not the best way to get eliminated, innit?

ELIMINATED: Kati -- by Jade Argent

Argent wiped his hands clean and went back to work. And by I work, I mean getting ambushed by KSZ and his MURDERDEATHKEITH! Ahh, fun times.

On the outside, Kristinia Kage and Kati had both come to, and were both snarling at each other. Kristinia made the first move, dashing at Kati with the intent to maim. Kati dived out of the way, and found pleasure in Kristinia colliding rather violently with the steel steps. In a flash, Kati grabbed hold of a steel chair and aimed it at Kristinia.

SMACK! Hell of a swing and a hit, to the back of Kage's head! Before Kati could do any further damage, referees Paige Allen and Leon Hurst rushed over to restrain the girl with the toxic green hair. The fans in the front rows a bit disappointed at the ringside sideshow being prematurely concluded, but there was more than enough bedlam in the ring to quench their thirsts.

Such as, say, Midnight Cowboy and John Sarsgaard teaming up to double-suplex Khristain Keller? Yeah, that's the ticket. Unfortunately for Sarsgaard and Cowboy, their short-term alliance would end there. Ryan Billows tackled Sarsgaard to the canvas and attempted to slap on an armbar of sorts, while Cowboy was blindsided by Malk Al-Haq. The Babylonian Overlord, still looking disgusted at the fact that he was no longer ACW's United States Champ, went to town on the Spirit Of ACW Champ by mounting MC and firing away with rights and lefts.

Midnight Cowboy would not stay down on the canvas for long, however. After managing to get his arms up to protect himself from the punches Malk was raining down on him, Cowboy retaliated with a knee-strike to Malk's abdomen. Bucking his hips, MC threw Malk off of him and rolled away to the other side, hoping to put some distance between his new rival. But as Cowboy used the ropes to pull himself up, he saw that Al-Haq was already vertical and charging at him.

Cowboy did the only thing he could do; he stepped to the side and pulled down the top rope cable. Malk was unable to slap on the brakes and inevitably went crashing out of the ring rather unceremoniously. The Finnish fans loved that a lot, especially with how distraught Malk was at ringside after being re-affirmed by referee Trent Savage that he was in fact eliminated.

ELIMINATED: Malk Al-Haq -- by Midnight Cowboy

MC looked down at Malk and nodded once. Vengeance, or at least a bit of it, had been duly served.

Not too far away from Midnight Cowboy, Orlando Grant had snuck up on Keith Scott Zimmerman and absolutely planted the new World Champion with a German suplex! And to add to that, the OG of ACW kept his waistlock on KSZ cinched in tightly, most likely hoping to land a second German suplex. But while The Only Wrestler That Matters was gasping for breath, he did figure out a way to get out of the predicament he was in.

He forcibly shifted his weight to the side and ducked just as Rud Albion's fierce superkick came into play! Orlando Grant got smacked right in the jaw, and staggered backwards counting the number imaginary tweety birds taking a dump on his head. What's that? Albion and Orlando are friends? Sure, but this is a Battle Royale, playa! Every person for themselves.

Speaking of which, Keith gave Rud the thumbs up for the assist, before kicking the Bronze Lion in the gut. See? I told you. That sparked Buddy Saxon to come over and get him some of the World Champ.

Orlando Grant, meanwhile, found himself in the clutches of Jesse Ramey. More specifically, crazy-eyes Ramey had picked the woozy Orlando Grant up and locked on to him tightly, while edging nearer to the ropes. The fans got all riled up; they knew what was comin'. Yes indeed.

ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT! OVER THE ROPES AND OUT OF THE RING!

Of course, it wasn't a normal version of the Attitude Adjustment. But the fans went apeshit over it anyways. Orlando lay in a heap outside the ring, and Jesse Ramey stared down at him, his right hand trembling.

ELIMINATED: Orlando Grant -- by Jesse Ramey

Perhaps Jesse should have gone right back into the thick of it all, because Jade Argent took advantage of Jesse's distracted nature and snuck up behind the newly-crowned Anti-Star, clocking him in the back of a head with a bionic elbow! Ramey went tumbling over the ropes... but WAIT! Jesee hung on to the ropes for dear life! And thankfully, only one of his legs grazed the ground! Argent however he'd gotten the job done and went in search of another target.

Across from him, Z was finding himself being approached by John Sarsgaard. Oooh, the fans got all hopeful over that possible encounter. Sarsgaard eyeballed the backpedalling Z, who was sweatin' bullets over how creepily the Hands Of Steel was sizing him up. Good thing, then, that rescue in the form of Sepiroth Du Luc came, eh? That's right, before Sarsgaard could fully turn to the side, SDL came out of nowhere with a nicely-executed boot to the face! The Red-Headed Terror did his part, and The Masked Enigma followed up with a clothesline.

One that sent The Hands Of Steel over the top rope. And unlike Jesse Ramey just a few moments ago, Sarsgaard was unable to grab on to the ropes. Despite all his newfound wealth, Sarsgaard had to be content with merely being credited as an 'unsuccessful competitor' in this monumental Battle Royale.

ELIMINATED: John Sarsgaard -- by Z

The Caped Crusader pointed at Sarsgaard and laughed at him. That's Z; laughing at people's plights. Kellen Masters didn't like the way Z sounded and went over to smack him in the back of the head. Classic stuff.

Meanwhile, Midnight Cowboy was getting absolutely destroyed by Jade Argent. A fabulous Pele kick had Cowboy reeling, and Argent decided to follow up by launching himself into the ropes. Whatever the Australian Opportunist had planned never quite panned out, for the Spirit Of ACW Champion managed to counter with a desperate back body drop! The ring shook violently upon Argent's body crashing down to the canvas, and Midnight Cowboy staggered to the ropes to catch a breath.

Bad move. Malk Al-Haq was waiting for him. SMACK! That was the sound of a steel chair introducing himself to MC's purty face.

And that was quickly capitalised on by Ryan Billows, who only had to score with a harsh clubbing forearm to the back of Cowboy's head to send the Spirit Of ACW Champ tumbling over the ropes and out of the ring. That's right, breaking news -- new bad boy Ryan Billows, aided by Malk Al-Haq, had just eliminated the current and reigning Spirit Of ACW Champ out of the Battle Royale.

ELIMINATED: Midnight Cowboy -- by Ryan Billows

Well, then. The herd was thinning, and a milestone was about to be reached.

For whoever secured the next elimination would ensure that he and the remaining All-Stars in the ring would have a solid chance of being the 2010 King Of Ages. And it looked like Ryan Billows was going to make sure he'd cap a strong debut thus far by being the one to grab the next (and his third of the night) elimination.

His target? Buddy Saxon, who just got bitchsmacked by Sepiroth Du Luc. Billows rushed over and caught Saxon in a full nelson hold, grinning devilishly as he did. What exactly did Billows have in mind? Full nelson slam? Or perhaps a variant of The Masterlock, the deadliest submission hold in all of wrestling? And no, I'm not being sarcastic about it.

Anyways, Ryan wouldn't show his hand just yet, but gave a hint to everyone watching as he dragged Saxon and himself over to the ropes. With a mighty roar, Billows lifted Saxon off the canvas and looked to be dumping the Bournemouth Boy over the ropes with the full nelson hold still in place! The anticipation amongst the fans was palpable, but there was one person who didn't like what was unfolding.

Rud Albion. Former partner of Saxon's, in the much-acclaimed England's Best tag team that won many a fan during their short time together.

Gritting his teeth, The Kingdom's Keeper darted across the ring and delivered a stunning chop block to the back of Ryan Billows' knee in the nick of time! Saxon was dropped onto the apron, still in a precarious state, while Billows found himself being struck in the face courtesy of a springboard elbow-strike from Rud Albion. That had Billows reeling right into the ropes, where a recovering Buddy Saxon was laying in wait.

Billows got turned around and kicked in the gut by Saxon, who then mustered up enough strength to life The Key Of Keystone State up for what appeared to be a suplex. Instead of dropping him down, Saxon held Billows in place. Finishing the suplex would see Billows eliminated, yes, but the Bournemouth Boy would also fall off the apron and experience elimination.

No, Saxon waited, while Albion craftily ascended to the top of the corner turnbuckle and took to the air with a fantastic springboard dropkick! Right into the chest of Ryan Billows! The latter was sent crashing down to the ground in some style, while Albion quickly recovered and held on to Saxon who was just about to slip off the apron. England's Best may have been no more, but they still functioned well and received a massive round of appaluse for their teamwork in serving up a fancy elimination of Ryan Billows.

ELIMINATED: Ryan Billows -- by Buddy Saxon and Rud Albion

With that, Saxon and Albion had guaranteed themselves and the other eight All-Stars in the ring of qualification into the next phase of the 2010 King Of Ages tournament! Whoo!

Unfortunately for the Bournemouth Boy and The Bronze Lion, their heartfelt moment was about to come to a crashing end. Thanks to none other than Z! Yes, the Caped Crusader had seen Albion and Saxon in action, and took to catching Albion in the back of the head with a jumping forearm smash! Rud had been trying to help Saxon get back into the ring, but instead collided into his friend, and the impact of all that?

Well, let's just say Buddy Saxon was knocked off the apron, and Rud Albion looked completely dejected.

ELIMINATED: Buddy Saxon -- by... err, Z

Buddy Saxon could at least take solace in the fact that while he couldn't win the Battle Royale, he had still qualified for the next phase of the 2010 King Of Ages tournament. Rud Albion was pissed, however, and turned around to engage Z in combat. Something that the Masked Enigma was hoping for. Z shrugged his shoulders at Saxon on the outside, before being tackled to the canvas by Albion.

At the same time, in another corner of the ring, Khristain Keller found himself hanging on to the ropes. Just seconds earlier, a stray SUPERSTAR KICK by Vince Jacobs was meant for the head of Kellen Masters, but Masters rolled out of the way and Keller got smacked in the face. The force of the kick saw Keller almost dumped out of the ring, but K2 grabbed the top rope and kept his chances of winning the Battle Royale alive.

Impressively enough, Keller skinned the cat and planted his feet back down onto the canvas with a great sigh of relief. However, trouble was waiting for The King Shit Of Fuck Mountain. Trouble in the form of the one man who was riding high after the events that transpired at the beginning of COURAGE 116. Oh yeah, you know who I'm talking about.

Keith Scott Zimmerman. And he had a present for K2.

HIT MY MUSIC!

Keller flew backwards, over the ropes, and out of the ring. It was simple as that. Our new World Champion stood tall and could only shake his head dismissively at Keller's broken body on the outside.

ELIMINATED: Khristain Keller -- by Keith Scott Zimmerman

Sepiroth Du Luc was hoping to bring KSZ down a couple of pegs, though, and took the first step in that plan with a kick to Keith's lower spine. Next step? Rear facelock. Was a reverse DDT on the cards? Nobody but SDL himself would know, as Kellen Masters burst onto the scene and delivered a spinning heel kick to Du Luc's face! The Red-Headed Terror let go of KSZ and stumbled backwards, his jaw inches out of place.

Vince Jacobs, having freshly body-slammed Albion to the canvas, took the opportunity to rush over and attempt a clothesline on Du Luc that'd take the Red-Headed Terorr out of the ring. SDL saw Jacobs coming though and sidestepped Ring Superstar. That saw the should-be Hall Of Famer collide face-first into the corner turnbuckle, and suddenly, Sepiroth Du Luc looked like he was about six seconds away from eliminating the man who very nearly become the 2003 King Of Ages.

Unfortunately for the Red-Headed Terror, Jade Argent was waiting for him. Without much hesitation, Argent pulled off another one of his brilliant Pele kicks, which caught SDL right in the kisser. The sheer impact behind that devastating Pele kick?

Let's just say Argent was very pleased with himself upon the sight of Sepiroth Du Luc flying over the ropes and landing at ringside flat on his face. Oh yes, The Australian Opportunist was extremely pleased with himself indeed.

ELIMINATED: Sepiroth Du Luc -- by Jade Argent

At the same exact moment, Jesse Ramey emerged behind Vince Jacobs and dropped to his knees. No, he wasn't going to perform analingus on the Ring Superstar. Instead, he stuck his head in between SVJ's legs and stood to his feet with Jacobs perched on his shoulders. Vince was right to be worried, and started to flail his arms about, trying to get free.

Jesse Ramey wasn't about to let an opportunity to take out his rival slip by, though. And so, with the fans going wild at the action developing in the ring, the new Anti-Star made with the Electric Chair Drop and rather emphatically got rid of Vince Jcobs in the process.

ELIMINATED: 'Superstar' Vince Jacobs -- by Jesse Ramey

Best elimination of the night? That, right there. Jesse Ramey smacked his lips together and watched as Jacobs writhed about on the floor outside the ring.

Ramey didn't have much time to celebrate, however. The likes of KSZ and Kellen Masters were staring Ramey down, hoping to get rid of the Anti-Star. On the other side of the ring, Albion was smacking Z around and enjoying every second of it. In fact, the Bronze Lion had just countered a brainbuster attempt from the Caped Crusader into a neckbreaker, and was now waiting for a recovering Z to get to his feet. Z was halfway there, on his knees adjusting his mask back in place.

Once Z got to his feet? Albion kicked him in the ribs, and got the Masked Enigma in place? For what? RED COA--DENIED!

Nope, Z didn't come up with any fancy counter that wowed the fans. It was more of a case of Jade Argent coming to the rescue, courtesy of a springboard scissors kick to the back of the head! Albion staggered forward, tumbled over the top rope and crashed down to the ground despite an attempt to hang out.

Impressive stuff from the Australian Opportunist, who'd just racked up his THIRD elimination of the night.

ELIMINATED: Rud Albion -- by Jade Argent

POW~!

You would have thought that Z would have been a little more appreciative of Argent, but noooo. That nefarious Caped Crusader chose to repay Argent with a punch to the nuts! Argent whined as he cupped his crotch and staggered backwards. Unfortunately for the former fWo Cruiserweight Champ, he'd stumbled directly into the path of Keith Scott Zimmerman.

Or at least, until Kellen Masters came off the ropes with a flying shoulder tackle! KSZ was knocked aside like a bowling pin, leaving Argent all alone with Masters. Masters scooped up Jade like he was nothin', turned around and rather gloriously dumped Argent out of the ring. Z laughed as he got back to his feet. Surely, he would one day regret what he'd done to Jade.

As it was, there was one less man in the ring, thanks to Kellen's first elimination of the night. Vital one, too.

ELIMINATED: Jade Argent -- by Kellen Masters

For there were only four men left in the ring. Oh, wait. Sorry. Make that three.

See, just seconds after Argent had been booted from the ring, Jesse Ramey decided to try and take advantage of KSZ being hammered by Masters just moments ago. What Ramey didn't anticipate was the World Champ raking him in the eyes, and following up with HIT MY MUSIC! And as had been the course for a couple of times already in the Battle Royale, the impact of Keith's finisher saw Ramey end up outside the ring, on the ground.

ELIMINATED: Jesse Ramey -- by Keith Scott Zimmerman

Still, not bad for both Jade Argent and Jesse Ramey, aye? Aye. The focus was no longer on them now.

Every single fan in the arena, most of them Finnish, were on their feet. There were only three left standing. Three survivors of a thoroughly spectacular Battle Royale thus far.

Kellen Masters, presumed dead by some but now back in the flesh and kickin' ass.

Z, the Caped Crusader who has spent the most of his seven months in ACW creating all sorts of near-iconic headlines.

And finally, Keith Scott Zimmerman. ACW's new World Champion, natch. The Only Wrestler That Matters, bitches.

Who, then?

Who would win the Battle Royale and earn a bye to the semi-finals of the 2010 King Of Ages tournament?

Who would win the Battle Royale and set themselves up as the man to watch over the coming weeks in ACW?

We'll find out...

... after these commercial breaks. Yup.

...

Ah ha! Fooled ya! No commercials were planned. Only awesomeness of the highest order.

Masters had his eyes on Keith, who in turn was eyeballing Z, who was instead choosing to stand in the middle of the ring scratching his balls. But of course, Z was by no means being all nonchalant in his actions. He was surely secretly plotting something.

"You two fight it out first. I'm going to take a nap!" the Masked Enigma announced, turning on his heels and looking to step out of the ring once more.

Well, that was a fucking red flag as far as Keith and Kellen were concerned. They shared a look, and nodded in agreement.

And then, they bumrushed Z, catching the Caped Crusader by the waistband of his pants. The fans roared as Z was dragged kicking and screaming towards the middle of the ring. A stunning lariat off the ropes by Kellen drove Z back down to the canvas, and KSZ followed up with a quick legdrop off the ropes across the back of the neck of Z.

It appeared as if Kellen and KSZ were combining forces to open a very special can of whoop-ass on Z. And the fans in Helsinki? They were going ballistic with jubilation. Twittering and twattering about it on their fancy mobile phones about Z's decimation at the hands of Masters and Zimmerman. Quite the glorious image, innit? The fans sure as hell thought so.

Having thoroughly stomped the stuffing out of Z, Keith and Kellen looked at each other. What was on tap next? A seemingly telepathic conversation between KSZ and Masters took place, and within seconds, Kellen was dragging Z back up to his feet. Keith, meanwhile, was preparing himself for something big.

The Masked Enigma was already groggy from the beating he'd received thus far. A massive overhand chop by Kellen Masters to his chest only amplified tenfold, and sent Z hobbling backwards, into the path of the World Champion. And suddenly, everything made sense. Z turned around, clutching his chest, unaware of what was about to happen.

Three simple words:

HIT.

MY.

MUSI--DENIED! What the what?!

That's right, Z somehow managed to prevent getting hit by Keith's fantastic finisher. How did he achieve that? Well, he countered it at the DEATH into something resembling a sit-out powerbomb! Incredible stuff, which even Renaud Cardinal and Jimmy Reid had a hard time articulating properly. Kellen Masters remained rooted to the spot, quite stunned.

Kellen resolved not to spend too much time wondering about just how Z did what he'd just did, and charged ahead at the recovering Masked Enigma. Z was again one step ahead, taking down Masters with a quick drop-toe hold! Kellen's face tasted salty canvas, and Z dragged himself across the ring, leaning his body against the ropes. Against all the odds, The Dastardly Mastermind had survived the combined onslaught from KSZ and Kellen 'Machine' Masters.

Weighing up his options and ignoring the vociferous outpouring of outrage from the fans, Z advanced on Keith, who was slowly clawing his way to his feet, groaning inwardly at the back spasms he was currently experiencing. Z took the chance to smack KSZ upside the head, before forcibly dragging the World Champ back up to his feet and connecting with a knee-lift into the side of the ribs. From there, The Caped Crusader decided to do something he was sure the legion of KSZ fans wouldn't appreciate.

He kicked Keith in the gut and went for what appeared to be a brainbuster. More likely than not, Z was going to ape the Champ's Best Damn Brainbuster In The Business. And yeah, the fans didn't enjoy that a single iota. Z was smirkin' it up big time.

In an instant, that smile was turned upside down. Keith had somehow squirmed out of Z's grasp and landed on his feet behind Z, albeit somewhat awkwardly. Z spun on his heels and wildly swung his arm at KSZ's head. Zimmerman ducked just in time and took to a forward roll.

And once Z turned around, growling in frustration?

HIT MY MUSIC!

He did it! Keith did it! Upon the second time of asking, the World Champ bamboozled Z with his finisher, and the Caped Crusader was sent flying over the ropes en route to elimination-ville.

... Except for that pesky matter of being able to grab the middle rope and prevent BOTH his feet from touching the ground. Oh, Z.

Keith however thought he was rid of Z for good, and jumped up to his feet looking around for Kellen Masters. Masters was nowhere in sight. Until, of course, The Only Wrestler That Matters turned around and saw the Machine exploding out of the corner. SPEAR~! Keith was down, and Kellen was one step closer to winning! Oh, and what a bloody glorious spear it was. Keith looked like he was broken in half.

Getting back up to his feet, Kellen Masters took a second to take some deep breaths, before reaching down to grab himself some of Keith's hair. Zimmerman had gone limp, but his lithe frame meant that Kellen didn't have any problems lifting the World Champion onto his left shoulder. No guesses for what was gonna happen next, eh?

Kellen approached the ropes, a buzz of anticipation and excitement breaking out in the stands. Neither Kellen nor Keith was aware of the fact that Z had managed to secure himself on the apron, looking mighty relieved at having staved off elimination. Speaking of which, the World Champ suddenly came to life just as Masters reached the ropes and tightened his grip on Keith. Zimmerman's determination won out in the end, and he squirmed out of Kellen's grasp, landing behind the Machine.

Despite his every instinct screaming out to him not to do so, Kellen Masters turned around anyways. And that allowed KSZ to bust out his game changer. That's it, folks. HIT MY MUSIC! For the umpteenth time on the night, Keith scored with his finisher and its potency was well demonstrated by the aftermath, which saw Kellen Masters laying out cold on the floor at ringside.

ELIMINATED: Kellen Masters -- by Keith Scott Zimmerman

KSZ, ACW's new World Champ, got to his feet and raised his arms in triumph. He thought he'd won. And he was about to kick off a celebration of epic proportions.

The somewhat muted reaction from the crowd confused him, though. And then, it clicked in Keith's brain. He lowered his arms, took a deep breath, and somewhat reluctantly turned around.

"Gotcha".

That was Z. And he had something of a present for the Only Wrestler That Matters.

Kick. WHAM. STUNNER!

I kid you not. Z just levelled Keith Scott Zimmerman with a partially-modified Stunner variant that looked hella cool, and out of the ring the World Champ flew. It was almost the perfect ending to a hell of a night for Keith, but as he landed on top of Kellen Masters, drifting off into Unconscious Land, he got one last glance of the man that just pissed all over his night.

ELIMINATED: Keith Scott Zimmerman -- by Z

The bell rang, the fans were in abject shock, and Z dropped to his knees, right arm raised in glory. The rock stylings of the Smashing Pumpkins blared over the speakers, solidifying the fact that The Masked Enigma had emerged as the winner.

Z had won the Battle Royale.

And the Caped Crusader had, by virtue of the win, gotten an express ticket all the way to the semi-finals of the 2010 King Of Ages tournament. While perhaps considered by some as a possible contender for victory, surely nobody expected the sight of Z basking in glory in the ring to be how COURAGE 116 came to an end.

But there it was. Z had done it, and there was a massive shit-eating grin on his minimally-exposed face.

To top it off, Z had one last parting shot to everyone watching at home:

"Welcome, one and all, to the Summer Of Z."

... Catch ya in seven days, folks.

WINNER: Z via SURVIVAL.

F I N

Forgotten Kings and Buried Warriors

New Moon

SINGLES MATCH - ACW WORLD TITLEKeith Scott Zimmerman vs. Trey Vincent ©REFEREE: PAIGE ALLEN

had to happen

C O M M E R C I A L S

Little Red Rock n' Roll Hood and the Kingdom's Keeper

VETO... no more?

Late Night?

Playin' laser tag with Helen Keller > catching a movie with Khristain Keller.

TAG TEAM MATCH - STANDARD RULESDas Effiziente Reich vs. Irish SpringREFEREE: LEON HURST

What's This Now?

C O M M E R C I A L S

The Risen Lion

Interview with a referee. That's new.

somebody set him up the bomb. or something.

SINGLES MATCH - ACW SCORPION FIGHTING TITLEFejona Min vs. Omega ©REFEREE: MARK SHIELDS

Attacked!

C O M M E R C I A L S

SINGLES MATCH - STANDARD RULESJP Boudreau vs. Noah SpencerREFEREE: TRENT SAVAGE

Two Sides...

...To Every Story

Chinese checkers.

interesting

who has the bigger di... ck?

unstable

C O M M E R C I A L S

2010 KING OF AGES TOURNAMENT PRELIMINARY QUALIFYING BATTLE ROYALEA Veritable Who's Who of the ACW RosterREFEREES: ALL OF 'EM

SINGLES MATCH - ACW WORLD TITLE
Keith Scott Zimmerman vs. Trey Vincent ©
REFEREE: PAIGE ALLEN

TAG TEAM MATCH - STANDARD RULES
Das Effiziente Reich vs. Irish Spring
REFEREE: LEON HURST

SINGLES MATCH - ACW SCORPION FIGHTING TITLE
Fejona Min vs. Omega ©
REFEREE: MARK SHIELDS

SINGLES MATCH - STANDARD RULES
JP Boudreau vs. Noah Spencer
REFEREE: TRENT SAVAGE

2010 KING OF AGES TOURNAMENT PRELIMINARY QUALIFYING BATTLE ROYALE
A Veritable Who's Who of the ACW Roster
REFEREES: ALL OF 'EM