Tonight ACW change.Tonight heroes will be made and villains will be born.Tonight titles may swap hands, or their keeper may firm his grasp on the gold.Tonight ACW will change; this time for the better.
IN THE DARK~! Recap
Not too long before Revival was scheduled to go on the air, the fans were treated to a pair of special match-ups! That's right. IN THE DARK~! Was making a return for tonight as a special treat for the fans who were still flocking to get some good seats before the first pay per view of ACW's newest era.
MATCH #1: THE SQUADRON VS. DAVEY LaRUE AND THE SOBS
The Squadron were the first ones out and had the crowd on their feet. In this bonus match, they'd be taking on the six-man tandem of the SOBs and “Fat Tuesday' Davey LaRue, who was busy cracking back a pair of Red Bulls. The match started off fast and furious with Avis Flyfield exchanging holds with Sheamus O'Brien. Avis took advantage early and exchanged several pinfall attempts. The Squadron excited the crowd with some their antics and double-teamed Sheamus with a sweet double dropkick combination for a near fall.
Aaron Fetzer took Sheamus to task until it was Davey LaRue who got in a shot from the apron. The SOBS used some of their double-team moves, first working over Fetzer with a double suplex, then a spectacular sequence of moves ending with Fetzer being DDTed into the ground. Davey LaRue took a couple moments after tagging in and played to the crowd, calling for a beer that he did not get and dropped a big senton for a near fall. Fetzer tried to fight back, but walked right into a Party Boy Lariat for a near fall.
Avis and Nowell each begged for the tag as Fetzer struggled in a Rear Chinlock from La Rue. After stunning him with a modified... well, Stunner... Fetzer finally made the tag away from him, heading over to the corner and tagging Nowell. The former fWEo wrestler kicked everybody around for the next minute or two, kicking all three members of the opposite side into oblivion.
He connected with an implant DDT on Selby O'Brien for another two-count as La Rue made the save. Avis took him out of the equation with the 747 (Flying Chop off the top rope) and when Selby was left alone, he fell victim to the Wheelbarrow DDT called Attack Pattern Alpha! Flyfield and Nowell drove Selby into the ground and when he made the cover, he won the match! The Squadron celebrated with the crowd and for some reason, Davey La Rue celebrated with them as well. What a party animal, eh?
MATCH #1: KIRU VS. REME DE ROZARIO
The second and last match before the main show got started saw “The Costa Rican Bullet” Remi De Rozario take on KIRU. KIRU's manager, Audrey Morrigan, ran down the Australian crowd by calling them a bunch of hapless drunks and promised that KIRU would be carrying gold very soon. Remi got the crowd on his side when he ran through the ropes and dove on KIRU with a big Suicide Dive.
He had the crowd behind him as he entered the ring and took him to task with a big high cross body that got a two-count. He kept running circles around KIRU until he ducked a Leaping Back Elbow. KIRU took control with some hard Mongolian chops in the corner and connected with some very stiff chops of the knife-edge variety. He kicked him several more times before using a Slingshot Corner Dropkick for a two and a half count. A Falcon arrow followed then followed up with a modified standing STF submission.
De Rozario got back to his feet and fought through the submission, stopping KIRU in his tracks with a dropkick. He stopped him with a headscissors and when he popped back up, he caught him with a Russian Leg Sweep and connected with a Diving Brain Chop. He walked to the opposite side of the ring and came back with a Diving Headbutt for two. An attempt at the Cartago Sling (Lifting Reverse DDT) and KIRU backflipped his way out of it. When he turned around, he was dropped with the Lightning Spiral. A trip up top and a High Angled Senton Bomb called The Cutdown spelled the end for Remi and a second victory in a row for KIRU occurred.
Now that the IN THE DARK~! Portion of the show was over, the crowd was ready for Revival to begin! Now let's get to the PPV!
ACW.COM PROUDLY PRESENTS
PPV: REVIVAL
Recorded LIVE! From the Acer Arena in Sydney, Australia
It is finished...
The scene is set at a very generic-looking interview area. The ACW banner hung in the background as "Too Cool" Chris Hopper steps into view. The cut over his eye is scabbed over and looks like it hasn't healed completely, but no coverings or bandages are on it. He has his ring attire on and is ready to start the show off with a bang.
"Several weeks ago I showed up here in ACW looking to earn my way back and show I could still compete."
He paces when he talks, especially as the adrenaline starts rising.
"The fans welcomed me. The home office welcomed me. Many of the boys in the back welcomed me into ACW, but one man couldn't take it."
He stops pacing and stares at the camera.
"And it east you up inside, doesn't it Gonze? The idea that this league that you helped build was willing to roll the red carpet out to someone new on the same night you decided to return."
The pacing starts again, very slow and methodical, but still showing he is revved up to go tonight.
"Week by week you made yourself a threat and announced your displeasure with me. You have cheated, lied and outright stole one of our matches. You started this little war...and tonight...."
He stares at the camera coldly.
"I finish it."
He walks off as the scene fades out.
I QUIT MATCH Jimmy Gonze vs. "Too Cool" Chris Hopper
The lights go out and the screen fired up with "Diamond Eyes" by the Deftones...
Gonze appears at the top of the ramp looking mean as fuck. With his patchy gray hair spiked to a mohawk and his wrists taped, he stomped his way down to the ring as the fans jeered him. He seemed motivated, knowing that this could be the night he vanquishes Hopper from ACW for good. He curses at the fans sitting near the entrance aisle all the way down to the ring. He reaches the ring and steps inside telling the fans to "Fuck Off!" more times than anyone can count as he got ready for his opponent to arrive.
The lights go out as the loud voice of Brian Johnson cuts through the crowd noise as he screams to begin the hard-rocking riffs of AC/DC's "TNT" The Aussie crowd, who love their home-grown rock band, immediately begin chanting "Oy!" with the riffs. As the pyro explodes, the figure of "Too Cool" Chris Hopper steps out from behind the curtain. Hopper is wearing his blue wrestling tights and black boots, complete with sunglasses as he gets a loud reception. He walks down to the ring, reaching out to slap hands with the fans as he slides into the ring.
Hopper bends down and flexes for the crowd as they cheer him yet again. He climbs the corner and raises his arms up to the crowd. He is working every side of the arena and the fans are really rewarding his showmanship. Chris continues nodding at the fans, who are already chanting his name with the importance of this impending match-up. He looks toward Jimmy and starts talking some trash about sending him home. Jimmy just curses back at Hopper. CH just waves off Gonze's insults and looks at the fans.
Big mistake...
Gonze rushes once again before the bell and tackles Hopper with a Thesz Press, reigning down punch after punch to the side of Chris' head! The referee is not doing a thing about it because this is not a normal match, but the motion is made for the bell to go ahead and start it off!
DING! DING!! DING!!!
After taking several shots from Gonze, Hopper rolls the Spirit of ACW over and reverses it into a semi-guard position himself and begins to throw hammer fists against Jimmy's face as the crowd jumps to their feet!
The two begin to roll around in this old-fashioned scrum and end up going under the ropes and falling off the side of the ring apron. They both stay on their feet with the angle of their fall and keep trading shots back and forth. Gonze finally gets an advantage by ducking a Hopper swing and shoving the larger man back against the ring, following it up with a hard right hand to the gut.
Gonze has a clear advantage and the hatred these two have for each other is felt across the arena. Gonze lands a European uppercut to Hopper's face that sends the "King of Cool" smacking back against the ring apron. Chris doesn't allow Gonze to get a head of steam and snaps back upright with a jab that rocks Jimmy around and stumbling into the guard rail.
The brawl is on and the fans are loving every second of it. Hopper went to follow up his big shot, but got a fist to the chin for his trouble from Gonze. Jimmy fired again to the side of Hopper's jaw, but Hopper spun through it and hit another haymaker that sent Gonze sprawling backward and into the steel ring steps. The two men trade blows again and Gonze stumbles around the steps and to the next side of the ring area. Had this been a regular match, a count out would have been rendered a LONG time ago, but the referee is out there keeping close watch and has a microphone in his uniform in order for the arena to hear when one of the wrestlers cries out for the match to end.
Going around the steps gave Gonze the opening he needed, as he planted a boot to the gut of "Too Cool" when he rounded the steps. Another right hand from Gonze, followed by a return from Hopper and the brawl seemed to be on again. Gonze ducks under the taller man's jab and lands another great shot to the ribs. The announcers note how taking the air out that way could serve him well later in the match when he tries the submission holds he needs to win. Gonze grabs Hopper by the neck in a side headlock, but Hopper's size and strength win out. Chris shoves Gonze out of the headlock and right into the steel ring post with a lot of force. Gonze careers off the post and right to the arena floor as the fans erupt in cheers.
Chris pulls the first Spirit of ACW to his feet and sets him up for a vertical suplex lift. This seems more dangerous as it appears to be pointed to land on the guard rail. Hopper tries to elevate Jimmy, but Gonze's low center of gravity works in his favor and Hopper can't lift on the first attempt. Chris adjusts and tries to add power for another try, but in adjusting he left his feet. Jimmy Gonze, being the veteran of veterans, used his chance to lift Hopper up himself and drop him crotch-first onto the guard rail.
The fans immediately boo, but the announcers rightly point out that everything is legal in this kind of match in order to get one guy to give up and win this match! Gonze takes a moment to breathe as Hopper is still frozen in pain on top of that guard rail. Jimmy lets a sly smile cross his face before turning around and running toward Hopper's prone body, drilling him with a leaping lariat that sends Hopper flying backward off the guard rail and into the crowd and Jimmy goes over as well!
Jimmy Gonze is back on his feet quickly and he pulls Hopper up, slamming his forehead onto that guard rail. Hopper snaps back and staggers backward as security rushes to keep the crowd under control as the wrestlers are in the middle of that area. Gonze, still with that sadistic look in his eye, rushes over and lands a forearm shiver to the middle of Chris' back, staggering him farther up the aisle! The fans are going nuts as Jimmy grabs Hopper and whips him into one of the back walls of the arena behind the ringside seating! Hopper hits the wooden barrier and drops to the floor!
Gonze begins stomping away at "The King of Cool" repeatedly as he lays leaning against the barrier. He stomps over and over, each time taunting the referee that he can't stop it or save the new golden boy. A drink comes flying into the picture and splashes all over Gonze, infuriating him. He turns around and starts yelling to find out who threw it. Jimmy is taking far too much time yelling at the crowd and railing about getting a beer shower that he doesn't see Hopper getting to his feet.
Hopper rushes at Gonze, but Jimmy turns just in time to use Chris' momentum against him and left him into the air, dropping his face right on top of that wooden barrier! The crowd groans as Gonze just starts yelling once again!
Jimmy notices one of the workers for the arena, with an empty beer crate and he walks over yelling at him to tell him who had that beer. The announcers note that even the beer guy couldn't know because he had like twenty of them to sell, but Gonze continues to try and interrogate the poor kid.
Hopper gets to his feet and slowly stalks over to Gonze, careful not to be noticed this time as Jimmy rants at the poor vendor. Chris sits back and waits for just the moment Jimmy turns his head and BLASTS him with a fist to the temple and staggers the smaller man and pops the crowd yet again!
"The King of Cool" follows up by grabbing Gonze and slamming his head against that wooden barrier! The crowd starts a Hopper chant as Chris begins throwing stiff punches into Gonze's eyes, sending Gonze over that small retaining wall and into the next set of fixed seats in the arena. Hopper steps over the barrier and continues landing haymaker after haymaker.
Security is having a hard time keeping the fans from getting physically involved in the match as the Hopper continues to land a shot every few steps that sends Gonze staggering up the aisle. One man even reaches out and slaps Hopper on the shoulder and tries to rub the top of his head before security pulls his arm back. Flash bulbs continue to pop as the two men near the top of the elevated set of seats.
With the fans walling off any further movement, Hopper grabs Gonze and lands another forearm shot that sends Gonze stumbling down the stairs! Security now has the aisle, such as it is, walled off from the fans and Gonze nearly falls to his face! Chris quickly grabs Gonze by the hair and runs him down the stairs, slamming his head into that wooden retaining wall yet again! The fans give the loudest pop of the night so far (yeah it is first match, but still!) when Gonze's head smacked the barrier!
The referee is begging the men to head back toward the ring for fan safety and Hopper nods as he gives a couple of fans each a high five. Chris pulls Gonze up and lifts him into a fall-away slam position, carrying him toward that guardrail. He arrives at the guard rail and slams Gonze onto it with a rib breaker before pulling him up again in that hold and throwing him over the railing like a sack of potatoes!
The announcers note that Jimmy's ribs may be injured after that and any submission hold could be dangerous for him now.
Chris climbs into the top of the guard rail and points to the crowd. The fans comply and give him a massive ovation as he jumps off the top of the guard rail and lands a double axe handle right between Jimmy's eyes as the veteran was trying to stand up.
Hopper takes a moment as he gets back to his feet to lean into the crowd and even smiles for a picture with one lucky young lady. He then goes over to Jimmy and pulls him up by the ear. He sets him up for an Irish Whip in the ringside area, but Gonze reverses and puts every ounce of strength he had into the throw, sending Hopper flying into the steel ring steps! Jimmy put so much strength into the throw that he fell to the floor himself with the effort.
Both men are down and the crowd begins chanting "We Want More!"
Hopper hit his head on the steel steps and the cut that Gonze opened up on him in Episode 05 has been re-injured. Blood has began to slowly drip down the side of his temple as he tries to get to his feet. Gonze has managed to get onto the ring apron and seems to be waiting for Hopper to get to his feet, or at least into a prime position. Jimmy waits as Chris gets to his feet and staggers a bit, turning his back to Gonze as he attempts to regain his footing. Gonze doesn't wait any longer, running a couple of steps off the apron and into the air for a running bulldog of epic proportions!
Hopper's head hit the arena floor with a thud and Gonze even tumbled into the guard rail near the ruptured steel ring steps!
Jimmy gets to a knee and gets that nasty, sadistic look in his eye again. He pushes the top section of the et sp off and rises to go grab it. He picks it up as Hopper is standing and looks to use it to his advantage, except Hopper quickly back kicks at Jimmy's knee and forces him to fall backward to the arena floor and drop the top section of ring steps as well.
"Too Cool" gets his land legs back under him and walks over to the fallen ACW veteran and bends down to pick him up, only to have Gonze grabs his tights and propel him into the ring post! What a great counter by Gonze! Jimmy gets to his feet and rocks Hopper with a European uppercut that sends the back of Hopper's head again into the steel post! Gonze lands a kick to the gut and then a right hand shot that actually causes Hopper to land part of his upper body under the bottom rope.
Gonze takes advantage and pushes Hopper the rest of the way into the ring as the crowd gives both men an ovation, but still many boos for Gonze mixed within.
The first Spirit of ACW rolls into the ring and nails a boot to the side of Hopper's head. He follows it up with a jumping double stomp on Hopper's left hand that gets Chris to actually jump to his feet in pain!
Jimmy rushes over to follow up, grabbing Hopper by the tights and the arm to whip him into the ropes. Hopper rebounds off the ropes with Gonze ready for the big shot and manages to grab the ACW veteran by the neck and land a swinging neckbreaker! Both men are on the canvas grabbing the backs of their necks after that move connected!
The fans are chanting for Hopper to go for it and even the announcers mention that both men have yet to try a submission, probably because they are so full of hatred for each other that they would rather beat the hell out of one another than finish the match quickly.
Hopper gets over and hits a running knee lift on Jimmy's face, sending Gonze right back to the canvas! Chris senses he has a chance and grabs the left leg of the first Spirit of ACW, but instead of a submission hold, Hopper grabs the other pin and snaps them in opposite directions, which garners groans of pain from the crowd. The announcers rightly mention that Hopper wants to keep softening Gonze's hamstrings up for the eventual finish.
Hopper continues to target the hamstrings and knees. He stomps the left knee and then grabs the right leg and drops an elbow right into the knee joint! This is a level of viciousness the ACW has not seen from Hopper up to this point! "Too Cool" continues to show he has fully lost his collective cool by punching jabs into that right knee at every opportunity! Gonze is holding the limb close to him to try and protect it, but Hopper is relentless in his softening up process!
Chris grabs Gonze's leg and rolls it into a heel hook submission hold! Here is the first attempt to finish the match, but Gonze refuses to give up! The referee asks Gonze if he gives up and his repsonse is a simple, strained one...
"Fuck off!"
Gonze, eventually, reaches the ropes and forces the break of the hold. The announcers note Hopper didn't watch his placement well and Jimmy was far too close to the ropes for it to have really ended the match. Hopper gets to his feet and asks the official if rope breaks and etc are active in this kind of match and he finds out that they are indeed in effect.
Hopper stands waiting for Jimmy to get up to his feet and Hopper grabs his arm to go for another move, but Jimmy ducks underneath, managing to get a full nelson hold on Hopper for just long enough to land his COLT .45 finisher! The crowd erupts in boos as Hopper receives the full nelson facebuster from Gonze and is down and out at center ring.
Gonze is down again as well, using all his strength and leg muscles to pull that off and get back to even. The announcers note that the move only saves him as a pinfall means nothing in this encounter.
Hopper isn't moving, but Jimmy is pulling himself to his feet. Gonze is limping as he makes his way over to his fallen opponent. Gonze grabs Hopper by the arm and rolls him over near one of the sets of ropes, but Hopper looks to be out cold, blood streaming on his face and a small pool within the ring where he had been laying.
Jimmy drops down and rolls under the bottom rope, yanking Hopper's left leg under the ropes and slamming it against the steel ring post! Jimmy grabs the leg and does it again, this time stretching it back as far as Hopper's body will allow and then running it into the post with a loud thud!
Gonze decides to go for his shot at the win and grabs Hopper's right leg, crossing it around the steel ring post and locking on a figure four leg lock with the post as an aid! The referee is refusing to ask Hopper's intent to give up as he hits every piece of the mat, ropes, turnbuckle cushions that he possibly can while faliling around in pain from the hold.
With no disqualifications, the best the refere can do is not allow the hold to end the match, but the damage is still done.
Finally Gonze, probably because of the blood rushing to his head from begind practically upside down for a good little bit, lets go of the hold and Hopper slumps back to the canvas utterly exhausted.
Gonze, with a very satisfied look on his face, gets to his feet. He limps over toward the time keeper's table and the announcers are already showing fear of his intentions.
He grabs the first chair he can find, but it has padding on the seat. He shakes his head and throws it down. He turns his head to look further and a smile creeps across his countenance...
And the camera shows a steel chair!
Gonze reaches around the time keeper's table and grabs the steel chair, pushing the time keeper off of it for good measure. He starts to walk away from the area, but then stop again and limps back over for one more thing...
The time keeper's bell.
Jimmy sets the bell and chair inside the ring and slides under the ropes. There seems to be a joy in his ginger limp as he grabs teh chair and walks toward Hopper, who is still trying to get his knee working right after the nasty attack with the ring post.
Jimmy puts Hopper's left ankle/calf inside the steel chair and sets him up. Gonze goes to the near corner and gets on the second turnbuckle, but the time that he took getting to that point, allowed Hopper to get his foot out of the chair and stand up. Hopper takes the chair and rushes over, plastering the first Spirit of ACW with it so hard that the current Spirit of ACW, GoldenHawk, probably felt it.
Jimmy falls off the second turnbuckle and to the canvas. Chris wastes no time at all gingerly staggering over to drill the chair against Jimmy's back flush with a loud smacking sound! The crowd is eating this up!
Hopper tosses the chair to the side and starts jawing at Jimmy to "get his ass up!" The crowd starts chanting Hopper's name as Gonze pulls himself to a knee and Hopper quickly limps over to land a shot to the jaw! Hopper picks up the timekeeper's bell and takes a swing with it at Gonze...
DING!
Jimmy is back to the canvas, blood visible from his nose now after that bell shot. Hopper staggers over and kicks the chair back into position, while dropping the bell in the corner. He pulls Jimmy to his feet and sets him up for a vertical suplex onto the steel chair! Jimmy yells and holds his back after the landing. Hopper in total control!
Neither man moving very well after the beatings they have doled out on one another and now both men are bleeding from points on their heads. Hopper staggers back over to Gonze as he is fishing for something in his tights, but when he bends over to grab Jimmy's head, Gonze blasts him with a pair of brass knuckles!
Hopper staggers back, that cut on his head still bleeding after the latest shot. Gonze is up to his feet, but limping as well. He goes over and lands a jumping overhand right to Chris' temple, flooring the bigger man to the shock of the crowd!
Jimmy gingerly stalks over to Hopper and takes aim, falling forward and planting the fist with the knuckles on them right between the legs! The announcers note that Hopper's yelp at that moment didn't sound like the same pitch his earlier speaking voice was in, that is for certain, as the camera shows a cut-away of a small child crying and covering her eyes at seeing Hopper get abused this way.
Gonze throws down the brass knuckles and pulls Hopper to his feet. Jimmy stands next to the taller man and grabs his head for a Russian Legsweep! Gonze shows his shooting ability by taking his leg up and around Hopper's head and grabbing that right arm for a submission hold!
Jimmy wrenches back on that arm while pressing down on Hopper's head and neck. The referee asks Hopper if he gives up...
"No!"
Gonze is taunting Hopper as he keeps yanking that arm against the leverage...
"Come on Hopper, no sense in getting your arm ripped the fuck off!"
The referee again asks Chris if he yields the match due to the hold.
"Hell No!"
The referee tells Hopper he is risking possible injury if this hold stays on much longer, but Hopper shakes his head violently as he strains against the hold Jimmy has locked on him. The crowd begins cheering Hopper's will to stay in the match despite this obviously painful hold.
Hopper pushes with his feet and manages to roll the hold over and force Jimmy to lose his grasp of the hold. Hopper grabs Jimmy's left leg on the way through the roll and turns it into an Achilles ankle lock instead! The crowd roars for the reversal!
Gonze, always quick thinking, rolls over manages to kick "Too Cool" in the gonads, breaking the hold quickly.
Gonze gets to his feet and blocks a Hopper punch, landing his own European Uppercut. Gonze grabs Chris by the hair and sets him up for an Irish whip, except he doesn't let go for the whip until Hopper is sent flying out of the ring between the ropes and to the arena floor with a loud thud leading to disapproving boos from the crowd.
Jimmy jeers at the crowd as he slithers out of the ring and to the floor near where Hopper landed. He pulls Chris to his feet and sets him up for another whip possibly into the ring post, but Hopper reverses the whip and sends Gonze flying into the time keeper and announcers area! He managed to not break a table or anything, but he flips over the announcer's booth and takes one of the chairs out!
The fans erupt as Hopper rushes over and wraps one of the camera cords around Jimmy's neck. He holds that cord in places tightly as he reigns down right fists over and over into Jimmy's busted nose and eye joints! Blood is now pouring from Gonze's nose with every blow! Chris yanks Jimmy to his feet and lands a well-placed elbow strike to the side of Jimmy's eye, staggering him out of the rubble within the announcers area and back into the open area near the ring.
Hopper doesn't relent, showing a true killer instinct by grabbing Gonze by the head and slamming it down against the guardrail in front of the ringside fans! Gonze hits the arena floor, blood replacing the tattered paint that had covered his face before.
Hopper grabs Jimmy and smashes his head into the ring steps again. Blood pouring onto Gonze's arm after his head hit those steps. Chris keeps the pressure on by pulling Gonze up, but Jimmy counters quickly, using the momentum to his advantage and yanking Hopper into the ring post again. The announcers discuss Gonze being such a ring veteran, commenting that he always seems to know where he is and Hopper has to remember that his opponent has as many years as he does in this business.
Jimmy plays it smart and slides back into the ring as Hopper shakes the cobwebs out from the ring post hit, which causes the cut to bleed more from his eyebrow yet again. CH steps into the ring apron and through the ropes, only to be met by a high knee from the man from Bodymore, Murdaland.
Gonze wastes no time, grabbing Hopper by the arm and pulling the middle rope over to trap it. Jimmy drills Hopper in the nose with a stiff jab that takes some of "Too Cool's" senses out from him. Before Hopper can fully react after the jab, Gonze has put the other arm in a similar trap! Chris Hopper is a sitting duck!
Gonze notices that time keeper's bell. He rubs the side of his head and smiles a little at the thought of some payback. He walks over to the bell and picks it up. He slowly limps over to Hopper holding it where he can see it. Gonze taunts Hopper with it before swinging....
DING!
Hopper slumps, still caught in the ropes, but obviously in trouble and the cut has been widened. Gonze spins the opposite direction...
DING!
And in a complete circle!
DING!
Jimmy seems a bit out of sorts or dizzy after the spinning shot, but the damage was worth it. Hopper has a new cut over his other eye and looks to be out cold. The referee is still trying to get Jimmy to stop using the bell, but Gonze simply says "Can you disqualify me?"
The referee simply shakes their head no.
"Then shut the fuck up!"
Gonze whirls the bell once again...
DING!!!
The bell actually hit in such an awkward fashion that it flipped out of Jimmy's hands and out of the ring to the arena floor. Also it caused Hopper's arms to become dislodged from the ropes and he slumped down to leaning against the ropes, bleeding like a stuck pig.
Jimmy, laughing at losing control of the bell, grabs Hopper by the legs and pulls his legs out for a bit. This causes Hopper's body to fall all the way to the canvas and Hopper's head was now under the bottom rope. Gonze puts himself in perfect position and quickly yanks while falling backward, performing a hotshot on Hopper, sending his neck into the bottom rope with a fury!
Hopper is laying on his side inside the ropes as Jimmy pulls himself to his feet. "Too Cool" does not look conscious at all, but rather as if he is an out-cold bleeding mess.
Gonze slaps the face of "The King of Cool" repeatedly to get his eyes to open. Hopper seems to have no strength left in his thirty-seven-year-old body. Jimmy yells at Hopper...
"No passing out on me...I want to hear you begging to get out of this!"
Jimmy grabs Hopper's legs once again, pulling him into the middle of the ring and flipping him over. He pulls the legs into position for a Boston Crab hold! Gonze pulls so far back on the hold that the back of his head is nearly touching Hopper's!
The referee checks the hold to make sure it is locked in well and then goes to Hopper, asking Chris if he submits.
"NO!"
The fans cheer as Gonze leans as far back as he can, almost ear to ear with Hopper. Chris' knees and thighs being stretched, his back being compressed and ribs pulled apart with each second of torque from Gonze's arms and body. Blood pouring from his head as the referee checks on him yet again to find out if he quits or not.
"No way in Hell!"
Jimmy yells out as he yanks back even harder on those legs. However, Hopper goes for a last ditch effort, one that will either take him out of this match or cause a break. He snaps his head back at just the right moment and connects with Gonze's head! The crowd erupts when Jimmy lets go of the hold and grabs his head after the shot!
Jimmy rolls over and gets to a knee, still with one hand on the back of his head. He gives a very evil look in Hopper's direction. Chris isn't moving much at all. He has slowly rolled to his side and is holding his right knee a little and also feeling his ribs.
Gonze wastes no time, he rushes over and stomps Chris in the head, grabs him by the legs and sets up for the figure four submission hold. However, Hopper has to pull out whatever he can to survive and sticks a thumb in Jimmy's eye to keep the hold from being completed.
Both men are beaten, bloody and trying to keep their ACW careers intact as they try to find a way to get that big hold locked on. Jimmy is over and pulls Hopper up to his feet. Gonze whips Hopper into the ropes and ducks his head just a tad too early...
Hopper grabs his arms and turns it into a double-underhook backbreaker! Both men are down again and Gonze's back is now giving him fits! Hopper is trying to get back to his feet and take advantage, but he is struggling!
Gonze gets to his feet as Hopper does. They meet at center ring and start trading haymakers! Back and forth as the crowd goes nuts for this burst of power brawling! Both men connecting strong and solid on their opponent's head. Gonze takes a wild swing and Hopper ducks under, grabbing the arm and taking his back! Hopper wraps his arm around Jimmy's neck and takes him to the mat in a rear naked choke!
Hopper's legs are wrapped around Gonze's body, trapping his left arm inside as well! This is not good for the ACW veteran! The referee checks Gonze and he can barely choke out his words...
NOOOO!!!!
Hopper wrenches the hold around a little and the right arm seems to lose its power for Jimmy's defense. Gonze's eyes are starting to look bloodshot as the referee asks him again....
"I...."
could it be?
"Quit..."
The referee quickly taps Chris' arm so he breaks the hold! This match is over! Hopper has pulled off the victory!
He lets go of the hold and Gonze is out. His unconscious body left lying on the canvas as the referee attends to him.
Hopper stands to his feet and raises his arms to the crowd. The begin chanting for him and he starts clapping and thanking every side of the arena for their support.
Hopper exits the ring as medical staff rush down to tend to Jimmy Gonze, the now former member of the ACW roster.
WINNER: "Too Cool" Chris Hopper
Concerned Bystanders
The nameplate on the locker room door read “ORPHAN,” but it wasn’t legible or visible right now, because there was a guard posted in front of that door, and if you need more than one guess why, you have some issues I can’t help you with.
Either Ruben Ross or Orphan himself wasn’t fucking around. The guard posted at the locker-room door was armed. As in, he was packing heat. That was what Keith Scott Zimmerman had brought things to; armed guards needed to be posted at Orphan’s door, particularly now.
Particularly when in the room, Orphan was meeting with his Party before what was likely to be a rather turbulent night.
All four ranking members of the Orphan/Seymour Almasy fan club stood before their hero, wearing custom-printed Orphan t-shirts, because let’s face it, ACW wasn’t exactly rushing out to sell merch for the guy who’d all but promised to bury them.
“This has gone way too far, Seymour,” Julia said. It was difficult for Seymorphan, as he was being called by some these days, to look her in the eyes, because she was largely wrapped around him, clinging in a way that would likely take the Jaws of Life to remove.
“You don’t need to tell me that, Julia,” Orphan replied, swallowing hard. “I know. Believe me, I know.” He reached up to rub a butterfly bandage on his forehead, covering a healing wound that was presumably courtesy of Keith Scott Zimmerman’s lead pipe from last week.
“What happened to you, anyway,” Chihiro chimed in, quietly. “The last thing we saw last week…”
Orphan groaned. Really, it was a subject he didn’t want to have to deal with, but they deserved an answer. “Keith hit me in the head with the pipe after some jostling. That’s the last I remember. I imagine anyone watching the show live realized it was a good idea to get some help there. When I woke up, I was getting stitched up by the medical staff.”
He paused for a moment, and closed his eyes. The next part was harder for him to say than anything he’d had to do in a while. The past two weeks had made one thing abundantly clear: KSZ was not going away. Not no way, not no how. That left one option.
“I’m going to have to deal with him, girls,” he said. “I don’t think there’s a way around it. He’s going to come after me, and all of you, until I do deal with him. This isn’t about titles or wins and losses for him. He wants to fight Seymour Almasy. I’m not going to give him that, but if he wants to fight Orphan? I’m fresh out of options, so he can fight Orphan.”
“No,” Chihiro insisted. “Don’t. Please. We can’t…we’ll stop coming to the shows, if that makes it easier.”
He shook his head firmly no in response. “You girls have been at every show since the company came back in ’09. Besides, you not being there won’t stop him. He wants to ruin me, to goad me into this at any cost. He doesn’t care about anything or anyone. He will do whatever he has to. You’re only one means to an end, if he so chooses.”
The locker room was filled with a gloomy air. Frowns abounded, not the least of which was Seymour’s.
“Enough about KSZ tonight, okay girls? Let’s focus on happier things. Like the fact that I’m about to become the Spirit of ACW.”
As far as attempts to change the subject went, it wasn’t a particularly successful one.
“Assuming you don’t get mugged in the hallway on the way to the ring,” Julia said, finally untangling herself from the Fal’Cie, to stand with her fellow Party members. “I’m not going to lie to you. We’re all scared, too.”
The admission hit Seymour like a punch to the stomach, but he forged on as best he could.
“I’ll be okay tonight,” he insisted. “Keith’s got a black Scorpion title defense, and even if he wins, I doubt he’ll be in any condition to harass me tonight. Not if Hank Wright has anything to say about it. So..."
The conviction in Orphan’s voice indicated pretty clearly that, KSZ or no KSZ, he hadn’t forgotten about SilverHAWK’s kid or the Bastard King of Ages.
The expression on the faces of the girls indicated pretty clearly that they were more focused on Keith than even, you know, the guy who kept Seymour out of ACW for two years. Not something they really expected to be dealing with, and it was pretty unpleasant.
“I hate to do this, especially after the week we’ve had, but I need to go put my paint on and get ready to shove everything down ACW’s throat,” Orphan growled out, trying to get himself into the necessary frame of mind.
“No problem,” Chihiro offered. “Come on, girls. We’ll see him later on.”
“I’ll catch up,” Jennifer said, quickly. “I want to ask him something about training for this week.”
“Oh,” Julia screamed, “I almost forgot about that! How’s she doing, Seymour?”
Talk about being put on the spot.
“She’s improving every day, to be honest,” Almasy answered. “For someone with no experience before this, she’s picking up things quickly. She has to get used to the pain still, but that takes a while. Even for me, sometimes, there is no getting used to it. Just have to accept it and move on.”
Meeting Jennifer’s gaze, Seymour turned to nod at the other three. “For now, though, let me chat with Jen really quick, and then she’ll be along. See you all soon – with ten pounds of silver around my waist.”
The goodbyes were more emotional than usual. Even Erica, usually the most demure of the group, didn’t resist when the object of her fangirlish affections kissed her goodbye on the mouth in front of everyone.
As the girls filed out of the locker-room, past the nice security guard armed to the teeth, that left Jennifer and Seymour alone in the room. The redhead sized up the situation, and nodded her head once. Training with him, she knew him better than the others now. More time spent with the object of her affections told her when he was near his breaking point.
“It’s okay,” she said, sliding onto the bench next to him and pulling him into her arms. “Let it out. You don’t have to pretend for me. For any of us, really. We’re big girls. We can handle it.”
When Seymour looked up at her next, his eyes were brimming with tears. “Of all…of all the people in the world, you’d think HE’D understand not to fuck with people someone cares about.” Almasy’s head fell forward, trustingly, to the redhead’s shoulder. Her fingers tangled in her mentor’s hair soothingly, arms wrapped tightly around a man who had, it seemed, hit his emotional breaking point.
“We love you, Seymour. All of us.” What else could she say?
“And I all of you,” he choked out. “I just…the thought of anything happening to you all…”
He didn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t bring himself to. He had come to ACW in 2005 – an eternity ago – because of his wife’s suicide. To start over. And he had done so, better than he could have ever imagined. No, he wasn’t married, but now he had the Party. They were his four best friends, his lovers, anything he could have hoped for in the depths of his despair.
Keith Scott Zimmerman had targeted them, openly and without shame.
“No matter what happens,” he finally managed, forcing his way through the sobs and tears and heaves, “I will protect you four. At any cost. At every cost.”
In under an hour, he would be the feared Orphan, the man who had promised to pry the “cursed” Spirit of ACW from GoldenHAWK, and hold it high as both a trophy and conformation of what ACW had done to him.
But for now, he wasn’t Orphan. He wasn’t even Seymour Almasy.
He was Jason Seymour Wilson, a name that he’d renounced years ago because of what Jason was: a scared, average young man who’d dropped out of college to chase his dream.
A dream that, if Keith Scott Zimmerman had anything to say about it, would become a nightmare from which he would never wake.
TAG TEAM MATCH The Players vs. Health Fanatics
In the lead-up to this pay-per-view, the tag team division had undergone its own mini-rivalry. Later, you’ll see The Nightlife defend their coveted straps against Big E. Smalls and Power Trip.
Here and now, though, you’ll see The Players and Health Fanatics (AGAIN!) in a bid to settle their series with the two teams tied at 2-apiece.
The Players, Kid Chameleon and Paul Sanders, could not be more different. Chameleon, the self-proclaimed greatest gamer in the world, and Sanders, the 2nd generation star with outstanding athletic prowess and a body chicks dig came into ACW amid cries of ‘GAME OVER’ for the entire division. However, they had their thunder stolen from them by Health Fanatics, their offensive manager, Jim Naysmith, running them down and rubbishing Kid Chameleon’s athletic credentials.
Since then, they’ve gone back and forth, traded insults and victories and they’re clearly evenly-matched. The momentum must go with The Players, who levelled the series last week but with injuries to both Sanders and Chameleon coupled with the conditioning of Greg Matthews and Damon Somner, points to an advantage for Naysmith’s boys.
Speaking of which…
The crowd could hear ‘Call On Me’ by Eric Prydz, almost drowned out by Jim’s whistle. Boy, was he annoying. Anyway, he had his hands raised in the air, cutting a confident figure, as Somner and Matthews strutted behind, the former giving the latter a massage and a pep talk, beating him on the chest and telling him it was THEIR time in the survival of the fittest.
Somner sprinted into the squared circle and did a series of perfect push-ups while Matthews flexed his impressive muscles, none of which were gaining any favour with the fans in Sydney’s Acer Arena.
With us being inside the Acer Arena, a computer-related name for this wonderful facility, it was only fitting The World’s Greatest Gamer and The Jock would make their debuts here. There was no split entrance here. The eight cheerleaders, a bevy of beauties, greeted both men as they arrived, four mobbing Paul and the other quarter stroking and caressing Kid Chameleon, who was puzzled to say the least. Eventually, he snatched his Nintendo DS from a stunning brunette, who gave him a kiss on the cheek and made him the envy of every male inside the building. Immediately, Paul took it from him and had a word. Chameleon sulked and then took the handheld console back from him, only to throw it into the sea of Aussies, who cheered at the giveaway for one lucky fan.
Paul patted his partner on the back, proud of his sacrifice, and our cameras picked him up saying: “Think of the laptop you’re going to get at the end of the match.”
Sanders played up to the crowd, scaling the turnbuckles, while Chameleon tended to his dodgy arm. Neither of them had any business being in the ring really, Sanders’ leg still bothering him and Kid’s arm wasn’t broken but badly-damaged following the Health Fanatics’ sneak attack and brutal assault during his review of ACW Legends: The Video Game.
When the bell sounded, the fun and games were over. One of these teams would hold bragging rights at the end of the match and gain a special prize. For the Health Fanatics, Acer would give Kid Chameleon a state-of-the-art laptop while the computer firm have also offered to fund the Health Fanatics’ gym subscriptions for 12 months should they be victorious here tonight.
As the teams prepared themselves and discussed who’s start proceedings off here in this, the fifth and final instalment, the bell sounded again.
Ding, ding, ding!
Paul Sanders and Damon Somner remained in the ring while Matthews and Chameleon vacated the ring, offering last-minute snippets of advice and encouragement.
Sanders, who wasn’t visibly limping anymore, started things off with Somner, who’d annoyed him from day one. Damon decided to see if Paul’s pin had fully-recovered, scolding him with two kicks to the leg he’d worked over wonderfully in the past but Sanders grabbed hold of Somner and pushed him back to the corner, courtesy of a tie-up. The official ordered a clean break, which Paul respected but Damon took offence to, pushing him out of sheer frustration and eliciting a collective jeer from the Australian audience as a result.
Paul shrugged it off, took a step back, attempting to cool off but Somner wouldn’t let it go and squared up to Sanders, their rivalry evident for all to see. The Jock applied a headlock, the crowd cheering as the intensity level rose ten-fold. Damon managed to push Paul off into the ropes. Damon ducked down as Paul jumped over the top of him and rebounded straight into Somner’s path, who tried to negotiate a hiptoss, but Paul blocked it. He denied Damon a second time before busting out his own hiptoss and showing Somner who was the boss in the brawn department.
Somner held his head and scampered across to tag Greg Matthews in. The two strongmen were fixed to hook it up. Matthews charged at Paul, but The Jock, an excellent athlete for his size, saw it coming and countered with a gorgeous dropkick that won the fans’ approval.
On a roll, the Prince of P-Town was searching for another eye-catching display of athleticism in the form of a bulldog but Matthews caught him in mid-flight and instead of taking the fall face-first, he hit the brakes and dumped Paul halfway across the ring like he was a toddler.
Sanders’ back was bothering him slightly and it took him a little longer than he thought to get up. When he did, he must’ve wished he’d stayed down as Greg, much more renowned for his power than agility, laid him clean out with a terrific axe kick that took the breath away.
1…
2….
The Powerhouse picked Sanders up and was about to lay him back down with a running powerbomb but Paul repelled it, striking Matthews three times whilst in the air and in a precarious position, causing Greg to flop to the mat with a headache.
That wasn’t all he had to worry about…
Paul sprinted towards him…
Maybe not. Instead, Matthews caught the 250-pound former football player steaming in and turned it into an Accordion Rack!
Yes, he had Sanders in a Torture Rack but was forcing The Jock to effectively kick himself in the back, targeting the youngster’s two vulnerable parts at this point in time, and effectively mixing insult and injury together.
Greg’s strength is staggering. Notwithstanding, what he did next was special, even for him. From a great height, he tossed Sanders into the turnbuckles with no remorse as the spectators audibly gasped collectively, a compliment to the strongman’s physical gifts as Sanders lay in a heap on the mat. His head had smacked the top turnbuckle with wicked velocity and it couldn’t have helped his lower cavities either, all of his body hitting each turnbuckle as he fell upon splattering the turnbuckles.
Jim Naysmith couldn’t and didn’t hide his joy at seeing Matthews show his inner animal, playing with and then hurting Paul. The whistle was going 90mph and each decibel was going through our eardrums. Nonetheless, it was probably music to Matthews’ ears.
Matthews found Paul in the same place where he’d left him. He scraped Sanders up off the floor and hoisted him into the air, placing the International Playboy up onto the top turnbuckle before joining him. When he got there, he was surprised to see the Rip City Chief still had some fight left in him, punching The Powerhouse three times until Greg fell to the canvas.
Thereafter, Paul gave Greg a small window in which to recover, preparing himself for a beautiful crossbody block…
Only to get caught. Matthews took a step forward, probably showing off, but what he did was most definitely substance over style…
Fallaway Slam!
1…
2…
While Paul was wondering where he was, Matthews elected to tag in The Engine, who lived up to his name by running straight in and applying a cravate. With that still intact, Damon stood Sanders up only to take him over with a snap mare. Somner was so smooth, giving Paul a clothesline to the back of the neck before running towards the ropes and coming back to meet Sanders face-to-face with an aggressive dropkick.
1…
2…
Only 2.
Damon tried to negotiate a whip to a neutral corner but Paul wasn’t having any of it. Instead, he reversed the whip and when Somner came out of the corner, Sanders treated him to a tilt-a-whirl slam!
Sanders struggled to get to the corner but poured all of his effort in getting there, leaping towards Chameleon, who was wrestling without a sling tonight but whose arm was still in agony, and tagging Kid in. Alex ran in and took Somner down, applying a figure-four out of nowhere…
Sorry, pardon my bad manners. I meant to say…
Tekken 4!
He wasn’t allowed to cinch it in correctly as Matthews marched straight into the squared circle and stopped the move with a single boot to the face. Kid wasn’t going to let it deter him though and decked Damon, who was now on his feet, with a high kick to the head. He then rammed Somner’s head into his knee, which is what he calls coconut crush, and turned The Engine over onto his back to let him have it with a head bomber, which is a headbutt to the abdomen, bordering on Mexico if you ask me.
Kid opted to bring Paul back in, probably trying to conserve energy for later and leaving while he was definitely ahead. Like Episode 5, he’d used his feet – and brain in the process – to strike early and often, reluctant to put any strain on his bummed right arm. Anyway, Sanders was happy to rejoin the action, especially with Somner in there and he stung Damon with a swinging neckbreaker, yielding a straight two-count afterwards.
Paul took the cat’s milk further (Argentine dialect – read Maradona’s book) by setting Somner up for a stalling suplex and holding him up there for several seconds, dumping the poor lad with utter contempt and ease. Strangely, Sanders tagged Chameleon back in. Perhaps The Players had isolated Somner and were going to keep the fresh man in, a fine strategy obviously, exchanging speedy tags in the process and keeping The Powerhouse locked out.
Chameleon came in. Now, let me explain this: Kid put Damon into a heel hold and then turned him over to negotiate an Indian deathlock. He wasn’t done there, though. Not content with Somner suffering from that, a notoriously painful submission in its own right, he let go, parted Damon’s legs (BEHAVE!) and allowed him to cross King’s Bridge.
Kings Bridge? A Mexican Surfboard for all of you ignoramuses that don’t play Tekken.
Speaking of the legendary fighting series, Chameleon calls that combination Tekken 6.
Greg had the same idea and that was to disrupt Kid’s superiority over Somner, but Paul read it and was quicker out of the blocks to meet him in the middle, stunning Greg with a beautiful flying forearm. Thereafter, he unloaded with a series of regular forearms as the official sought to get The Jock off Matthews. In amongst all of this, Damon was still upheld on King’s Bridge, though Naysmith had decided it wouldn’t be for much longer.
He ran into the ring and clocked Chameleon square on the right arm, which was probably hurting from holding Somner up in the air, and re-injuring the damaged body part.
This enraged everyone in the Acer Arena here in Australia’s most famous city, Sydney, and the sponsors of this building had promised to give Kid a laptop if The Players sealed a series-clinching triumph here, but even that had to be at the back of the computer-crazed competitor’s mind right now. He had to cope with a great deal of pain here and now and hopefully for him stick it out. It was a gut-check for The World’s Greatest Gamer.
Somehow, the referee persuaded Paul to go back to his corner. When he turned around, he saw Kid rolling around on the floor and tends to him for a moment. However, the official still isn’t fully-satisfied and orders him to return to his own corner. The Jock stands up to the authority figure and tells him to do his job, which gets a cheap cheer from the crowd. In response, the ref told Paul he was doing just that by telling him to beat it.
Damon cheekily attempted a pinfall, getting a 2 ½ for it. Smelling weakness, Damon picks Kid up and plants the poor bastard with a running shoulderbreaker.
He wasn’t finished: Hammerlock City to quote Gorilla Monsson. A hammerlock gave way for a hammerlock slam and after that failed to get a three-count, Somner rolled through with a bridging hammerlock! Yes, just moments ago, Kid had trapped Damon in King’s Bridge. Now, Somner, or rather Naysmith, had turned the tide and the Washington D.C. native had his Oregon-based opponent tied up in a painful bridging hammerlock.
Paul, like Greg had done eagerly earlier, rushed in and stubbed Damon in the stomach until he released the hold. As a result, Sanders ate shit and incurred the referee’s wrath, threatening disqualification, which didn’t seem to bother Sanders that much.
All of those hammerlocks are sickening, especially if you wear a leather jacket, jeans and a white t-shirt to the ring.
How about one for the road?
Hammerlock northern lights suplex…
It may be the end of the road. Let’s find out, shall we?
1…
2….
3?
It would’ve been, had it not been for Paul’s interjection. He received one final warning before departing the scene, desperate to get back in there and spare his best friend any more punishment.
Somner smiled at Sanders, taking his time as he tagged Matthews in. When he was on the outside, he waved at his frustrated opponent. Things would surely get worse with the 270-pound Seattle strongman building on Damon’s immaculate craftsmanship.
By fuck, he hurt him immediately with a belly-to-belly suplex.
Could this be it?
1…
2….
NO!
Paul had to stay on the outside there, seriously believing the referee’s threat on this occasion, and watch Matthews bear down on his partner’s injured shoulder and arm with all of his weight, only for Chameleon to courageously kick out.
Matthews smartly grabbed Chameleon’s arm and placed it in an armbar. Paul, unable to do anything, decided to clap Kid, the crowd joining in and that made him ask for even more encouragement. The performer and spectators were one and Paul appreciated it, dying to get in there and save the day not only for him, but the team that was older than their professional careers, a bond that went back to high-school and here they were together in one final exam, on the verge of graduation, a well-earned pass in this five-part module if only Kid could make a tag.
Alex responded with two elbows and just when it looked like he might take a massive step towards safety, Greg grabbed him…
Full Nelson!
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!
Make that a Full Nelson Slam!
1…
2….
NO!
Jim Naysmith and his charges question the referee’s count, particularly Greg, who felt he’d done enough to secure a 3-2 aggregate in favour of HF. However, he’d have to settle for tagging Damon back in.
Crucifix Armbar!
If Kid thought for a moment he was going to rest, this shattered any illusions and the pain was sharp, imagine when it catches you near your thumb and you curse at the sudden pain that shoots through your hand.
Sanders was twitchy on the outside but any harbouring thoughts of coming to Kid’s aid were quashed by the lenient referee, who warned him to stay put. Despite being in an impossible position, Kid repeatedly turns down the official’s requests of whether he’d like to give it up or not. Sanders can’t watch and his hands are on his head. Amazingly, when he turned around, fearing the worst, he could see a gutsy gamer heading his way, egged on by the crowd, which brought an enormous smile to Sanders’ face. It was too much to ask Sega’s Ambassador to tag out, but he got to the bottom rope to break the hold, though Damon exploited the referee’s count until four.
Perhaps out of annoyance, Somner drops Kid Chameleon with a single-arm DDT and then goes straight back to the arm, unleashing a kimura, a nasty fucking move and if you don’t believe me, ask a certain Olympic hero.
Fortunately, Kid was still cooped up next to the ropes and though it hurt to get there, it was better than the alternative. He knew this move could not only make him submit and break The Players’ hearts, but also break his arm – literally.
Damon’s temper was rising and he slung Chameleon into The Fanatics’ corner, slapping an eager monster’s hand as Greg re-entered the fray and let loose, charging Chameleon’s weakened arm time and time again until Sega’s Ambassador slumped down in the corner, unable to answer back.
Matthews whipped Chameleon into the adjacent turnbuckle and exploded with a corner splash that had to take a lot out of the deteriorating boyfriend of Lara Croft.
One…
Two…
T…
Matthews was just getting started: Deadlift German Suplex!
One…
Two…
Thr…
Chameleon had to shoot that injured shoulder out and a pain shot up his entire arm as a consequence.
Matthews, like Somner before him, vacate the premises somewhat dejected. Damon, who’d had time to think, darted in, kicking Kid in the head and slowing things down with a chicken wing. However, Chameleon got to his feet a few seconds later and managed, fuck knows how, Damon’s attempted knee to the spine and reply by stamping on Somner’s foot a couple of times. With separation completed, Kid dared to negotiate an armbreaker, though he didn’t hang around, floating over into a Russian Legsweep…
Call that Tekken 5.
The count was on. Naysmith was trying to light a match under Damon’s derriere, figuratively, by repeatedly clapping and whistle-blowing but the audience got involved instead, forcing Jim to spit his annoying ‘dummy’ out and tell them to shut up!
On the contrary, they didn’t. They upped the ante and here in Australia’s unofficial capital, the folks were firmly behind The Players. At 7, Somner started to stir. Was The Engine running out of gas? Perhaps Kid was running out time, which was a common consensus and it was really a case of now or never for Nintendo’s Number One. Could he make the match-defining, fuck it, SERIES-DEFINING rag?
The race was on and you had to back Somner…
Right?
Wrong!
Just as he was about to stop Kid’s ascent, Chameleon jumped and tagged Paul in emphatically. Sanders erupted and how appropriate Somner was going to feel the ramifications of his rage, not that he held much love for Matthews either. Evidently intimidated, Damon backed off but then thought better of it…
Only it was worse.
You see, he decided to mix it up with the bigger athlete and Rip City’s Chief was poised to rip the capital-born cruiserweight’s head off and three right hands was a great place to start on that personal mission.
Paul backed up…
You’re kidding!
Only for a moment…
Shoulder Tackle!
Matthews sauntered in and his telegraphed big boot was caught. Sanders smiled and then virtually beheaded him with a high-impact leg-trap lariat.
The crowd was up for this and they didn’t have to wait to see Paul cool down. Unfortunately for him, despite warnings from Naysmith, Somner was up…
Gorilla Press Slam!
Instead of doing it immediately, Sanders waited for The Powerhouse to get his posterior up to an upright stance before dumping Damon into and onto him. The crowd was becoming unglued and so was the tight-knit team of Somner and Matthews.
Their manager, Jim Naysmith, had to do something…
Yeah, get knocked the fuck out by The Jock, who decked him with a big-time right. Sanders and Sydney were on fire in heavenly harmony.
It was all too good to be true…
Greg cut Paul’s comeback off with a stern boot to the cut and called the recovering Somner over. They grabbed an arm each; they probably should’ve tried this with Kid instead, and sent Sanders into the ropes. He ducked underneath their clumsy double-lariat attempt and punished them with one of his own!
The crowd stood up as they saw Sanders weighing the situation up. In a football player’s stance, hence why they call this fantastic young athlete ‘The Jock,’ it was a case of whoever stood up first would get it.
Could this get any better?
Somner struggled to his feet first…
TRAILBLAZER!!!
The beauty of it? They were both legal!
ONE…
TWO…
THRE…
Matthews broke the count up at the 11th hour!
Greg didn’t see Kid coming…
Shining Wizard!
Seeing an opportunity, Sanders tells Kid to go outside, only to tag him back in and make it legal. Chameleon went straight for Somner and you may wonder what Kid’s finishing move is, given you haven’t seen it at all in this series, until now…
The Michinoku Driver!
Uh-uh.
MEGA DRIVE!
Somner’s head bounced off the canvas with a sickening thud and he rolled out underneath the bottom rope! Finally, the nifty little bugger had got his comeuppance and the Acer Arena’s inhabitants lapped it up.
The comeback trail had enthralled everyone here. Paul had showcased his potent blend of speed and power. It was only fitting he put the cherry on the cake, wasn’t it?
Matthews was oblivious to what was around him until he saw Chameleon…
What he didn’t see was the problem.
TRAILBLAZER!
Paul’s Rocker Dropper had delivered. From comeback trail to a couple of Trailblazers. Was it now truly Game Over for Health Fanatics?
No, not quite!
Although he wasn’t the legal man, not that it mattered to most in attendance, Matthews was prone and The Players were on the last level. Just moments ago, Kid had busted out a Mega Drive.
But, we’re in 2012.
Wrestling and gaming has moved on since the Genesis was king. Now, it’s Microsoft’s X-Box and the company’s X-Factor was going to show he had just that. Are you ready? Are you online? Okay, let’s play…
360 LIVE!!!
Kid’s sensational 360 moonsault, which fucked his arm up good and proper in the process, wowed the crowd, who probably didn’t think he could even pull off such a move!
Chameleon struggled to get near Matthews so Paul lent a helping hand and dropped Kid on top for the cover…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!!
They’d done it! That 3-count gave them win number three out of five and the series. Paul punched the air repeatedly, delighted with the victory and playing up to the fans. Kid would get his Acer laptop, though fuck knows when he’d play it given how Paul hugged him, Chameleon crying out in pain until Sanders apologised, kissing Kid on the forehead instead! He scaled the top turnbuckles instead, extracting a wonderful ovation while Kid warned the referee to raise his left arm!
Sanders came down off his pedestal as the official raised both of their arms and then shook the official’s hand, apologising for his conduct. Naysmith was telling anyone and everyone outside that Matthews wasn’t the legal man, though no one was listening.
Kid Chameleon, who'd been thrown off the top rope via an amazing tiger suplex by Greg Matthews in the opening encounter of their matches, had gained revenge on the same guy with his own move from the top rope. The series had truly come full circle.
So, there you go: Two teams, who’d entered ACW at exactly the same time,had shared a ring on five consecutive cards and told a different story on each occasion. In the end, The Players trumped Health Fanatics 3-2.
I reckon the tag team division’s up and running again. For tonight though, Health Fanatics, commiserations boys…
GAME OVER!
WINNER: The Players
Not A Good Start to an ACW Career...
Things shifted to the backstage area and a flock of officials huddled around something. Sheila Matthews waved to someone off screen with Rex Silver shaking his head in disbelief. EMT's flood the scene and the crowd parts, giving the EMT's room and everyone a clear view of what was going on. It appeared that the young upstart known as Britannic was face down on the floor.
"How long has he been unconscious?" asked one of the EMT's, as he knelt next to the fallen rookie.
"One of the referees found him like this about five minutes ago," Sheila replied and then, turned to Rex. "Not exactly what I had planned when I offered this kid a shot."
"You got that right," Rex nodded in agreement.
A pair of EMT's stepped into the picture with a stretcher and lowered it to the floor.
"Let's get this kid to the medical bay and see if we need to call for an ambulance," the head EMT instructed and helped lift the young man onto the stretcher.
With the medical staff leading the masked man towards the medical area, Sheila walked over to Rex and it was more than apparent that she was anything but pleased with what happened.
"I want to know what happened here and who is responsible."
"We're on it."
GRUDGE MATCH Jack Harris vs. Spike Saunders
The crowd had seen quite a bit of action here tonight on the first official PPV of the new ACW era and it was about to get a lot heavier... heavy-hitting and heavy for the fact that the combined weight of the monsters that would be competing shortly would be over 600 pounds easy.
Ever since the collapse of the most destructive and dominant stable in ACW history, The Cabal, “The Unit” Jack Harris had made a killing selling his services to the highest bidder in case they needed somebody reduced to a grease spot. Thus far, people like The Amazing Gabriel had found his services useful, but one constant thorn in his side... especially being one that was SEVEN FOOT THREE was “The Colossus” Spike Saunders. Keeping him from assaulting Carrachio Salfuego following their match, Harris felt he'd been sticking his nose where it didn't belong.
On the last edition of Courage, he was slated to have taken on Harris in a tag team match but Harris jumped Saunders backstage, leaving his protege Billy Law to take his spot. Post-match, even though Harris lost, he jumped Billy Law in the post-match and now, it was time for Saunders to get himself some payback. Vale, si'l vous please?
“The following is a grudge match and is scheduled for ONE FALL!”
“Still Running” by Chevelle.
No sooner did the music hit than the fan started to boo as the massive form of the hideous Chancellor of Excellence made his way out from the back. Sneering out to the crowd, he extended his arms and pointed a finger to all sides of the audience before making a slow walk down to the ring.
“First, making his way to the ring... from London, England, weighing in at 292 pounds... he is ”THE UNIT” JACK HARRIS!”
The crowd avoided any contact with the evil bastard making his way to the ring, for any contact with him was surely toxic. The Unit jumped onto the ring apron and climbed over the ropes with ease. He took a step on one of the ring ropes and raised a fist in the air, screaming at the top of his lungs. After giving the first row a good scare (and possibly a viral infection just from coming in contact with his spit) he climbed back into the ring. He knew there was a chance that Saunders may not have been 100% after his assault on E05 and awaited the chance to hurt The Colossus.
Oh, speaking of...
“SPIKE-IT-UP!”
And all those jeers went away and made way for a tremendous ovation for the veteran. SEVEN FOOT THREE made its way through the curtains, peering at the ring through a pair of sunglasses. Dressed for combat and ready to fight, the Colossus stomped towards the ring, pointing right at Jack Harris and slashing a thumb across his throat.
“And his opponent, making his way to the ring from Beverly Hills, California, weighing in at 317 pounds... SPI...”
Harris pushed right past Tommy Vale and tried suckerpunching Saunders as he entered the ring, but being that Saunders was not blind, stupid, or a rookie, caught the fist and returned a big right of his own that rocked The Pikey Madman. Harris went staggering back as Saunders climbed over the ropes and looked ready to strike, cracking him in the head with a second soup bone!
DING DING DING!
And it appeared we were going to start this one fast and furious between the two giants. Spike Saunders struck him with a big right hand and even threw in a few chops to stun his fellow giant. Harris returned fire with a series of large meaty fists, stunning him with some shots. Jack ran off the ropes and came back with a full head of steam, but Saunders saw him coming and clocked him with a big Clothesline that knocked him right down!
The Unit was in a tizzy now as he started to stagger upwards again. Spike was there ready and waiting and caught him with a hard Superkick-like blow that caught Harris under the jaw, sending him flying through the ropes!
Saunders pumped a fist for the crowd that was firmly behind him before he stepped over the ropes and took the fight to the outside of the ring. He grabbed Harris by the head and introduced his opponent's head HARD into the announce table! Renaud and Millar both backed away while Spike repeated this a second time, trying his best to send Harris into dreamland as early as possible. He grabbed him by the head and led The Unit over to the ring post...
THUMP!
With a big smack, Harris practically had his face introduced to the unmoving steel structure and was now walking around the ringside area, completely woozy. Saunders growled and still wasn't finished exacting some punishment upon the hitman for hire as he grabbed him by the throat and tried to chokeslam him on the floor.
ELBOW! ELBOW! ELBOW! ELBOW!
Luckily for Harris, The Unit was still cognizant enough to know where he was and freed himself with a barrage of elbows to the back of The Colossus' head. He attempted an Irish whip on Saunders to toss him into the guardrail, but Saunders slapped the brakes on that and tossed Harris' big ass HARD into the barricade!
After the collision, a groggy Harris came staggering right into the grip of Saunders and The Colossus DUMPED him hard on the floor with a big Sidewalk Slam, educing a loud GROAN of pain from The Unit. The referee in the middle, Slim J, ordered both of the giants back into the ring and was the count of five. Saunders acknowledged this and tossed Harris' carcass underneath the bottom rope before climbing inside. Thinking that he'd doled out enough damage to Harris, he rolled him over and hooked the far leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THR... NO!
Harris was a very tough man and thus, was able to kick out to the surprise of Saunders, who'd been dominating him since the opening bell. But if he could dish out some more damage to The Unit, then hey, why not?
Saunders stood up and grabbed Harris by the head, driving a couple of big elbows to the back of the head. After pulling the big man back to his feet, he looked out to the crowd before he lifted him up overhead with a VERY impressive Vertical Suplex. He actually HELD Harris in place for several seconds before he fell backwards, driving The Chancellor of Excellence right into the middle of the ring! The ring nearly shook from the impact and the fans were still cheering on The Colossus as he rolled over and hooked the leg again.
ONE!
TWO!
THR- KICK OUT!
The crowd booed when Harris kicked out, but Saunders wasn't about to give him any resting time. He tried taking Harris by the neck again and started to pull him back to his feet again, but Harris snapped away from him and backed to the apron to create some distance. The match hadn't been going his way at all and needed to regroup. Saunders stood up and grabbed Harris by his hair while the giant was stuck on the apron, but he blocked it and caught Saunders with a surprise punch to the jaw. While Saunders was stunned, he grabbed him by the back of the head...
NECKBREAKER ACROSS THE TOP ROPE!
He dropped Saunders on the back of his head across the top cable, snapping the giant's head back. Saunders was brought down to one knee now as Harris finally had his chance to strike. He stepped over the ropes again and grabbed Saunders by the back of the head again, throwing a couple of hard knees into his face before he turned it around and dropped the big man into the mat with a HARD Swinging Neckbreaker.
The Unit was now in control and stood up to his feet...
“YER FUCKED NOW, BOY-O!” He yelled right at Saunders.
Saunders wasn't going down to a fucking Neckbreaker, though, and started to make it to his feet rather quickly, so Harris GUT CHECKED Saunders with a big tackle and pushed the bigger man into the corner. He attacked him with a barrage of Corner Clotheslines and held him in place. He then turned around and gazed out to the hate-filled crowd before throwing off his elbow pads...
ELBOW! ELBOW! ELBOW! ELBOW! ELBOW! ELBOW!
And the rapid-fire alternating back elbows kept on flying as long as he could get away with it within the referee's five-count. He stopped at the count of four and a half, but Saunders had now been considerably rocked by the big man. Saunders was woozy now and fell right into the grip of Harris, who turned him and dropped him again with his third Neckbreaker of the match! He now attempted the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR... KICK OUT!
Saunders got a shoulder up off the mat and powered out, but it was clear he wasn't fighting with the same fire that he had once before. The Unit shook his head as Saunders started to get back to a knee. Harris stopped anything he could try with a big running kick to the face, putting The Colossus right on his back again. Spike was still full of P&V and wanted to tear Harris' head off his body, but The Unit had different plans and ran off the ropes before putting another big kick right between the eyes of Saunders! And another cover followed.
ONE!
TWO!
TH- NO!
Another big kickout by Saunders made Harris growl under his breath, so when Saunders got back to a knee, he grabbed his arms with a Double Underhook and kept him locked in the ring to try and wear him down some more. He brought up a couple of knees into the top of his head and pulled him up, but Saunders had enough strength to break free and crack Harris with a massive right.
He caught Harris with a second shot that sent him wobbling backwards to the ropes. The Colossus yelled into the air and got the fans behind him as he tried to continue his assault. He whipped Harris off to the ropes and had plans to make him pay for it with another big power move...
DROPKICK TO THE LEGS!
Amazingly, Harris had the agility to pull off a big Dropkick, albeit a low one. But he got his target, which was right there with Saunders' left leg! The big man was dropped right to the ground and The Unit was back on the attack again, throwing some fists down into the temple of The Colossus.
“YOU COST ME MONEY, BOY-O! TAKIN' IT OUT OF YOUR ASS NOW!” He shouted as he delivered each blow.
Slim J had the enviable task of getting in between the two brawling monsters, but Harris rumbled at the diminutive referee, making him back up a couple steps in the process. Jack Harris resumed his assault by standing up to his feet and delivering a big jumping stomp right into the face of Saunders. Saunders crawled to ropes, trying to use them to get back to his feet, but Harris grabbed him by the head and placed a boot on the back of it, trying to choke some of the air out of him.
“ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FI-”
The Unit broke off immediately and didn't want a disqualification. He wanted to win the match and put Saunders out for good as a message to send to the rest of the roster that thought about crossing him. Saunders tried to defend himself with another haymaker, but Harris returned fire and clocked him with several big right hands to the chest to wear him down in the corner.
Saunders tried to shove him away now, but Harris just jumped right on back, pummeling him with about ten or so big Clubbing Forearm shots to the back of the head. While the giant was stunned, Harris bounced off the ropes and crushed him with a Body Avalanche! Saunders came wobbling out of the corner as Harris ran off the ropes and came back...
FLYING CROSS BODY!
In the hands of a cruiserweight, it was a halfway decent impact maneuver to get control. In the hands of a man that was nearly seven feet tall and close to three bills, it was a DEADLY weapon in his arsenal. Saunders got floored with the big move and Harris hooked both legs now.
ONE!
TWO!
THR... KICK OUT!
The fans popped for Saunders when he escaped defeat again at the hands of The Unit. Harris was starting to get a little more frustrated now, thinking that the cross body was going to be enough. He stood back up and stayed on the attack, pummeling Saunders with more big Clubbing Forearm shots.
“FUCK THE WHOLE LOTTA YA!”
The Unit wasn't making any friends right now, but if you think that he truly cared about such a thing, then I'd like to formally welcome you to your first ACW broadcast. I'll be speaking with you after the show about some ocean beach front property in Wyoming when we're done here, m'kay?
Harris continued to wail on Spike Saunders with some more big shots to the head. Saunders was brought down to his stomach and left himself open for another brutal attack when he put a big boot on the back of Saunders' head before STOMPING it down in Curb Stomp-like fashion! It was a brutal and effective move that had the fans groaning from the sick impact. He stood over him before turning him over and hooking a leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THRE – NO WAY!
Yes way.
Saunders was very badass like that and fired a shoulder up off the mat again, which now made Harris go crazy. He punched the mat and threatened to do the same to the referee, but Slim J raised his referee shirt up to tell him who was in charge.
The Unit sighed and pulled him back to his knees again before raining down another brutal succession of those Clubbing Forearm shots. He growled and set Saunders back to his feet again, grabbing him in a Pumphandle Slam, possibly looking for one of the variations on his Execution finisher...
NO!
Saunders managed to slip out of the back and when Harris turned him around...
SPINEBUSTER!
It was more of a desperation move than an attempt at an actual attack, but the major league Chokeslam from Spike Saunders shook the ring and drilled Harris good into the canvas. The Aussies in attendance were still rallying firmly behind The Colossus as he started to get his second wind back. Harris was started to come around while Saunders used the ropes to pull his redwood-esque frame back to a vertical base.
When Harris stood up, Spike Saunders lunged forward and tackled him to the ground with a mighty big Shoulder Tackle. Harris was back on his feet a second tiem and just as quickly he got taken down with another big nasty Clothesline that put him down on the canvas.
The Colossus' neck was in pain, but he fought through it and Irish Whipped Harris hard into the corner and followed it up immediately with a BIG-TIME Corner Clothesline! He whipped Harris again and sent him across the ring before repeating his assault a second time with an even BIGGER Corner Clothesline than before!
Harris was brought to the center of the ring again where he went up...
AND WENT DOWN!
CHOKESLAM!
Saunders dusted his hands off as if to say that was that to the viewing audience as he crawled over and hooked the legs one more time.
ONE!
TWO!
THRE- SHOULDER UP!
Shockingly, The Unit was still able to kick out and Spike Saunders was surprised at this as well. He stomped his feet on the ground and pulled Harris back up. Setting him up in the Fireman's Carry position, it seemed that he was looking for his SPIKED finisher, but Harris slipped out the back...
He sent Saunders running to the ropes and when he came back into his grip...
WHIRLWIND BACKBREAKER!
The SICK maneuver from Jack Harris drilled a knee right into the back of The Colossus! Jack Harris couldn't follow up right away due to dropping a man that big across his knee, but he shook out the pain and crawled over, once again hooking both legs of The Colossus and trying to finish this for good.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE... KICK OUT!
It was the CLOSEST fall of this hard-hitting match between the two giants and yet, Spike Saunders had enough energy to kick out of everything that Harris had thrown at him. Harris held up three fingers to the referee, but Slim J, though uncomfortable, held up two to let him know that Saunders was still in the match.
“FUCKIN' FUCK!” He shouted.
He quickly got back to his feet again and when Saunders tried to do so as well, he kicked him hard in the face and rocked him with a quick-moving volley of right hands, almost trying to beat the tar of out The Colossus. He got a lot more angry and a lot more vicious. He picked up Saunders again and whipped the giant to the ropes, but Saunders was ready...
RUNNING DDT!
The blow had driven Jack Harris' head into the canvas in a very bad way and Saunders had followed up with his attack as the Colossus rolled through to his feet again. He stomped his feet with anticipation as he motioned for The Chancellor of Excellence to stand back up again. When he did...
SPIKED!
Saunders connected with an EMPHATIC variation on the old F-5 and drilled Harris into the mat viciously. He turned his big frame over and hooked the legs, hoping that this was going to be enough.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The crowd showed some love to Spike Saunders as the giant rose back to his feet, albeit in a groggy state and pumped a big fist in the air for the crowd.
“HERE IS YOUR WINNER OF THE MATCH... “THE COLOSSUS” SPIKE SAUNDERS!”
Spike Saunders celebrated with the crowd as he looked right at the fallen body of Jack Harris, who was still down and out, wondering if the ceiling lights got any brighter than last time. The Colossus had gained a good measure of revenge on The Unit for assaulting he and his protege, getting a big win in the process.
He climbed out of the ring and Billy Law met him at the entrance ramp, celebrating Saunders' massive win. It was a good night for all.
Well, all except Jack Harris, who was starting to come around, growling at the massive forms of both Spike Saunders and Billy Law headed back up the ramp. If Harris had his way, this wouldn't be the end of it.
WINNER: Spike Saunders via pinfall
Trust Me
The iPhone on the desk vibrated, wobbling east and west over hickory. The audible clacking of keyboard keys was heard as a man sighed, presumably behind the Macbook pro that was revealed to have a gold star subsuming the (in)famous Jobs Apple.
As the camera panned back, the crowd ovated hard for the appearance of ACW's Executive Producer -- the Black Plague himself, Ruben Ross.
"I'll be glad to get this ESEN thing underway," he muttered to nobody in particular but his reverie was broken by a quick staccato set of raps against his door.
"Come in," he said, his left arm instinctively encompassing the S button and the apple with a couple of his fingers before he closed the lid. Ross looked up, and while his expression changed slightly it was hard to say whether it was in a postive or a negative direction. He pocketed the iPhone because soon it was about to be replaced on the desk.
A lead pipe covered in blood rolled across the desk and then hit the floor next to Ross, who's eyes didn't move. Where the phone had been...where the pipe had started rolling...fell two championships as intertwined as strands of DNA in a double helix.
The crowd erupted in jeers as the two-shot became evident, and the (black) Scorpion Champion Keith Scott Zimmerman sat down with a small smile on his face, folded his arms in his lap, and leaned all the way back in one of the plush chairs for guests in Ross' office.
Then he decided to break the ice.
"president obama," he said, right arm tilting forward to doff an invisible cap.
Ross' response was to stroke his goatee, trying not to allow the small grin on his face to be visible to ACW's resident killjoy. "Cute, Keith. Very, very, horribly cute. So who's that make you? Romney? Mr. Frothy Discharge? Cheney?"
Now it was Zimmerman fighting off a smile. "oh, no. i don't have it in me to commit that level of atrocity." Turned out his effort to contain his smile failed, because suddenly every single tooth in his mouth was visible.
Ross stared at Keith and the moment of amusement had passed. "You've been running around picking fights with everybody breathing. You've ended a career and ruined two other ones. You goaded one of the biggest guys on the roster and smiled as he tried to choke you out with his bare hands. And then to top it off, last week you almost ruin the triangle match with the Spirit up for grabs tonight by tormenting Orphan after taking out SIX security guards."
Keith looked at Ross, scratched his eyebrow, mouthed a "six?" and then ran the hand across the back of his bald head. "that why you had an armed guy outside his place tonight?"
"So you saw him."
Zimmerman nodded, but just the once. "i was thinking about putting on a fawkes mask and making a charge anyhow, but apparently you just HAD to talk to me before my championship defense."
"I did. You see, Keith, when I have to do things like hire all these armed security guards and add staff just because nobody knows what you're going to do next or to who, it costs us money. Granted, ESEN is about to help with that but we're just trying to get by a little bit longer without them. Actions need to be taken, especially when you're jumping into the audience going after innocent women--"
"kellersayswhatnow"
Ross gritted his teeth. "--anyway, you're fined. You want to win matches, you win them. But I'm sick of you ending careers, breaking necks, and treating All-Star like it's a puppet hanging off of your strings. I'm in charge here, and since you feel so free disrespecting my authority I'm cutting off that right now. $100,000. And by the way, I don't exactly believe in three strikes."
Zimmerman nodded, relaxed in his chair. Then he stared at Ross, who looked back at him. Time passed.
"Well? I just told you I'm dropping your pay. You know what the deal is going forward. You still alive? You awake? Any of this getting through to you?"
sniiiiiiiiiiiiiiff and then Zimmerman stood, grabbed his championships and put them around his neck. His right arm extended to Ross, who looked at it askance. The Scorpion's face didn't so much as blink looking at Ross in the eyes. Carefully, slowly, eyes on the arm the whole time, Ross stood up, then shook Zimmerman's hand.
Zimmerman nodded, then withdrew his hand.
"i do hope that display of power did something for you, obama. because pretty soon? you're going to see a display of my power. and by the time this night is through...by the time i'm through...you'll have all the money you can stomach and not a cent of it will protect from the nightmares i'll give your little investment.
because i'm the black scorpion, and since i can still get it done in the ring?
i'm outta here like i stole seymorphan's sense of security." And with that, Ross' eyes narrowed as he glared at Zimmerman, who had clearly amused the hell out of himself by the amount of laughter coming from his belly.
"i suppose i did at that. oh, rubie rubie rubie...or should i say RUBE. our dance has just begun."
And then That Look™ was on his face once again.
"Trust me."
TRIPLE THREAT MATCH - STANDARD RULES Britannic vs. Pietro Geist vs. Wong Kei Ying
With the tolling of the bell, the three competitors met in the center of the ring. There was the big powerhouse from Germany known simply as Geist. To his right was the second-generation star from Hong Kong, Wong Kei Ying. Cocky as ever, WKY bounced up and down with a smirk on his face. Much to everyone's surprise, standing to Geist's left was the rookie from the United Kingdom, Britannic. The last time anyone saw the young man, he was face down in the locker room. Who attacked him was still in question, but seemingly nothing could keep him from trying to earn an ACW contract.
Each man looked over their foes, watching them carefully, as all three were cautious about making the first move. The masked Britannic watched on, as his two foes appeared to focus on one another. He had just wiped his hands on his tights to clean them of any debris when WKY struck him in the jaw with an unexpected right hand that sent him stumbling back. Without missing a beat, WKY fired off one to Geist as well.
Unlike his smaller foe, the massive German warrior didn't budge and immediately delivered a solid right hand of his own. WKY retaliated in kind, leading to the pair trading strikes. In WKY's case, it was futile, as Geist's stiff right hands just kept coming, backing him into the corner. An Irish whip sent WKY to the opposite corner and he exploded right back out for a jumping calf kick at his foe. Geist easily snagged him out of midair, but before he could drive him to the mat, right hands made contact with his mouth. Just wanting to be rid of his pesky opponent, Geist launched WKY overhead, only to have WKY land safely on his feet behind the German. Well, the landing was safe, but where he landed wasn't. He landed right in front of the waiting Britannic who this time sent him stumbling back with a huge roundhouse to the chest.
With the sound of the kick still echoing through the arena, Britannic turned to Geist and connected with a right thigh kick- left jab combination. WKY tried to get involved and got a back elbow for his troubles, which seemed to be a wind up for a muay Thai style elbow strike to Geist's jaw. A spinning sole butt put Geist in the corner, keeping him out of the way so Britannic could target WKY. He did so just in the nick of time, as WKY was looking to take his head off with a lariat. Britannic was able to slip under the attack and put his enemy down with a brutal Koppo kick.
Feeling that a pin attempt this early was not going to work and Geist was still too fresh to allow it, Britannic turned to the big man and knocked him back into the corner again, this time with a big time roundhouse to the chest, giving him a taste of what WKY got earlier.
Not allowing him to tend to his wounds looked for an Irish whip on Geist. A reversal sent Britannic into the corner where he was crushed by a big German freight train. Before Britannic could even react to being attacked, Geist cracked him in the jaw with a spinning back fist.
Geist turned away from his dazed foe for only a second to put WKY back down with a boot to the chest. Britannic had just gotten up to a vertical base when Geist caught him with a quick left jab. A quartet of huge overhand rights by Geist, displaying his boxing background, put his foe on spaghetti legs and a shot to the gut dropped Britannic to all fours. The big man took a moment to pose and WKY took advantage of the opening. He leapt off Britannic's back and sent Geist tumbling to the outside with a front dropkick.
Trying to clear out the cobwebs, Geist stayed on the outside with WKY bursting with anticipation at the thought of a slingshot plancha onto his foe. Geist stepped into position and WKY looked to fly, but Britannic put a stop to that. In midair, he caught WKY's ankles and pulled him towards the center of the ring. WKY instinctively put his hands down to protect himself and land on all fours. It saved him from the impact though it left him in position for Britannic to capture him in an Oklahoma roll.
1...
2...
No!
Both men were up in a flash and Britannic took WKY over with a side headlock. A head scissor countered the hold only to have Britannic rotate and roll into a back to chest pin attempt. WKY locked his arms around his foe and bridged off the mat before a one-count. A quick spin once standing led to a backslide attempt. Before WKY could drop to his knees, Britannic executed a backwards roll over him and landed in front of him. An Irish whip sent WKY into the ropes and saw an in-coming Greenwich style knee strike coming, so he showed him ingenuity by catching the leg and twisting into a drag screw leg whip in one fluid motion.
Taking great pride in his work, Wong Kei Ying smirked and looked for the crowd's approval. He took off to the ropes only to have Britannic execute a forward roll and take him down with the same knee strike he tried before.
Geist tried to catch an unsuspecting Britannic with a lariat and the attacking arm was blocked by a big boot style kick. The kick's recoil allowed the masked man to spin into a back fist of his own and he followed that right up with a step up enziguiri.
With Geist rolling outside the ring to escape a pin attempt, Britannic looked to his opponent from Hong Kong, reddening his chest with a pair of roundhouses to the chest. The Englishman laced his fingers with WKY's and ran up the ropes. His lucha training showing its face, as he had an arm drag on his mind. However, Geist was station on the apron. He tried to cut Britannic down with a sweep of the leg with his arm and to the shock of everyone, Britannic safely hopped over the attack, landing on the top rope. A roundhouse to the temple cleared the big German from the apron and was used to spiral off the top, executing the arm drag on WKY.
That brought the crowd to their feet, as Britannic was up in a flash and headed to the ropes. He ducked under a wild reverse knife edge chop by WKY. He may have avoided that one, but he couldn't avoid a forearm to the back delivered by Geist from the outside upon hitting the ropes. A dazed Britannic was driven down sharply by a waiting WKY with a tornado DDT.
Much like his foe, WKY knew keeping the large G on the outside was the best idea, so he left Britannic to his wounds, as he met Geist at the ropes and went for a shoulder block between the ropes. He whiffed on it and a hand full of hair kept him positioned between the ropes, allowing Geist to flat out punt WKY in the face.
Geist was anything but pleased about what had occurred in the match thus far and he stalked WKY while he scurried to the nearest corner. Lighting fast left jabs found their mark again and again. WKY became weak in the knees from the quick flurry and Geist turned up the heat, unleashing monstrous overhand rights. Not content with just punching him, Geist used the over swing of the punches as a wind up for reverse knife edge chops that made the crowd woo in return. The brutal assault forced WKY to crouch in the corner where Geist grabbed him by the hair with both hands and tried to demolish his face with rapid fire knee strikes.
The referee had to step in and he was very lucky that he didn't get struck as well. WKY was not going anywhere fast, so Geist took the opportunity to keep Britannic down with a running boot to the face.
WKY knew he had to get vertical despite the stars circling his head and when he got there, he was whipped into the ropes. He was able to avoid a clothesline, but he couldn't stop Geist from launching him into the air and catching him on the way down with a European uppercut.
A pinfall attempt by the big man.
1...
2...
No!
Wong Kei Ying was able to slip a shoulder free with just a moment to spare. Geist took the opening to regain some energy, watching WKY struggle to stand back up while he bounced up and down in his boxing stance. Despite his spaghetti legs, WKY was standing. He might have wished that he stayed down, as a trio of jabs smacked him in the jaw. A huge right looked to cap off the flurry and WKY was able to anticipate it. He bobbed under it and exploded into a barrage of slaps. A roundhouse to the ribs was caught however and the missed right found its mark this time, putting WKY on his back. Geist never released his opponent's leg and used the positioning to lock in a Boston crab.
The size game immediately came into play, as the massive German had no problem keeping WKY in the middle of the ring with the hold applied. Britannic saw his opening and hit a running low dropkick to Geist's legs. That broke the hold and WKY's legs slammed Geist face first into the mat. Geist instinctively pushed up his upper torso from the mat, but all he did was position himself perfectly for Britannic to blast him with a baseball slide style knee strike to the face.
Paying no attention to the fleeing WKY, Britannic kept the pressure on his larger adversary. Seeing as Geist had no hair to pull, the Englishman grabbed him by both of his ears and used them to keep them in place, so he could deliver a trio of knees strikes of his own. A vertical suplex attempt by Britannic was blocked twice. G was able to lift Britannic on his attempt, but the masked man twisted on the way up and was able to deliver a modified ace crusher where he landed on one knee instead of his bottom. He chained that perfectly into a snap mare, which perfectly sat Geist down so Britannic could level him with a sliding elbow strike.
Not wasting a single second, the masked man rolled into a three-point stance and darted towards WKY, delivering a forearm strike that sent WKY crashing into the security barrier.
Geist was pulled up to his feet just to get dropped to all fours with a sole butt to the gut. A quick locking of the arm and the big German found himself grounded courtesy of a key lock-head scissors combination.
Stationed in the very dead center of the ring, Geist was at Britannic's mercy. All his size and power couldn't break him free of the hold and his foe wouldn't let him move even an inch closer to the ropes. His shoulder was on the verge of being ripped from its socket when he got some help from an unexpected source. WKY slipped in unnoticed and tried to remove Britannic's mask the hard way with a spiral arrow dropkick.
With a sudden burst of adrenaline, WKY hurried Geist to a vertical base and fired him shoulder first into the steel post between the top and middle turnbuckles.
That was all that was needed to keep the German out of the way, as WKY waited patiently for other foe to stand back up. Displaying his amazing speed, the man from Hong Kong lit up Britannic with a series of open hand slaps to the face, a spinning back chop, and a standing roundhouse to the jaw. An STO put Britannic down hard on the mat.
After using the top rope to launch himself to the apron, he used it to go for what might have been a slingshot double stomp. However, that was not what was in Britannic's future. Just before impact, WKY spread his feet apart, landing with them on each side of his enemy's chest. Britannic may have avoided physical pain, but not psychological, as WKY slapped the taste out of his mouth.
The crowd disliked that show of blatant disrespect and made sure WKY knew it. It didn't bother him one bit and he posed while basking in the jeers of the crowd. Once he got his fill, WKY led Britannic out to the middle of the ring by his mask and laced his arms across his chest. A flawless Darkness Buster drove the masked man down harshly on his head.
Wong Kei Ying rolled into a cover.
1...
2...
No!
A kick out stopped the count and Britannic instinctively sat up to avoid another attempt, but that only put him in position for WKY to rattle his spine with a stiff kick. A dragon sleeper was on for only a second before WKY had to turn his attention to the approaching Geist. A baseball slide into a drop toe hold slammed Geist down to the mat and WKY executed a front handspring off his back to get back up. A spinning low kick struck Geist in the jaw and spun WKY one hundred and eighty degrees where he took his other foe down with a step up enziguiri.
The kick was on target and Britannic crumpled in a heap to the mat right next to the fallen Geist. WKY sped to the ropes and a picture perfect Asai moonsault. The move was only half successful, as Britannic got his knees up.
Each man was feeling the effects of the action thus far and took off to a corner to recuperate. Showing his experience, WKY blocked out the pain and took advantage of the situation, catching the masked man with a leaping back elbow in the corner.
As soon as his feet touched the mat, WKY took off towards his other opponent and tried to deliver an elbow to him as well. However, WKY found nothing but turnbuckle waiting for him. Geist had darted past him and hit a flying body press on Britannic in the opposite corner.
The fans were surprised by the speed of the big man, as he was charging towards WKY in no time at all and clocked him with a Yakuza kick in the corner, sitting him down.
Geist hurried back to Britannic and tried to rip his mask off with a vicious boot wash.
Not done yet, he gave one to WKY, easily turning the tide in his favor.
Once using the moment of peace to clear out the cobwebs, Geist stood WKY up and drove his boot deep into the Asian man's gut. A huge powerbomb bounced WKY's head off the mat. One powerbomb was not enough for the big man and he easily lifted his foe right off the mat and spiked him a second time. Wanting to put the cherry on top, Geist picked him up once more. This time, he used WKY as a battering ram, knocking Britannic out to the floor, and slammed him down with a sit-out powerbomb.
Possibly making a mistake by not going for the cover on his fallen foe, Geist looked to the outside and slapped the mat with a surge of energy. A quick ricochet off the ropes allowed him to build up a head of steam. He looked to dive between the ropes, but just as his head cleared the ropes, Britannic rattled his brain with a jumping knee strike to the very top of the head.
Geist's own momentum caused him to tumble to the outside, where Britannic left him to tend to his injuries and slid back into the ring. WKY was positioned in the corner, having to use the ropes to stay vertical, when he was rocked with a Muay Thai elbow. An Irish whip was reversed and WKY pulled his foe into a jumping calf kick.
That elbow from Britannic had WKY check his mouth for any damage and he caught a glimpse of Geist on the outside. He looked to get a running start and only a step in, he found Britannic surprisingly vertical. The masked man lifted him for what looked to be an Air Raid Crush, but instead of falling to his rear, Britannic ran with WKY and leapt into the air, landing on one knee with the back of WKY's head slamming off the top of his knee.
Britannic saw Geist climb onto the apron and took off after him. The big man leapt off to avoid any contact, so his foe executed a tiger feint spin and tried for a baseball slide dropkick. Geist caught his feet and pulled him into position for an over the shoulder powerslam. Instead of slamming him down, he drove the young upstart trapezius first into the steel post.
There was no rest for the wicked, as just as Geist got finished putting his English foe down when WKY dazzled the crowd with a space flying tiger drop to the outside.
All three men were down and gasping for breath on the floor. WKY was the first to show signs of life and he climbed up on to the apron. Geist could barely battle to all fours, as his Asian foe lined up his target. WKY hopped up to the middle rope for what looked to be an Asai style attack, but he was cut off quickly by Britannic. The masked man had used Geist as a launching pad to hop on the apron behind WKY. A waist lock was clamped on and Britannic used WKY as a projectile, throwing him at the fallen Geist with a German suplex.
The three competitors were once again grounded on the outside, this time for several moments until Britannic staggered back to his feet with Geist in tow. Both men were soon in the ring and tired, but ready to do battle. A now trademark elbow by the masked man socked the German and Geist returned fire with a big right hand. The two fighters blasted one another with strikes with Geist gaining the upper hand with a cheap shot to the throat. An Irish whip sent Britannic to the ropes and he rolled under a lariat. Once completing the roll, Britannic leapt into the air, springing off the middle rope with a brutal knee strike.
A cover by the masked man.
1...
2...
NO!
Geist snarled, as he forced his foe up and off of him. Despite his rage, he was still at Britannic's mercy while being positioned in the corner. A Muay Thai elbow and a back elbow led to a jumping elbow to the top of Geist's head.
As if his spider sense was tingling, Britannic turned around and caught WKY with a knee to the chest while leaning to the side to avoid a punch, which dropped him to all fours.
The positioning of his enemies got the wheels turning in the Englishman's head. He immediately sprinted to the opposite corner and right back at his foes. Britannic leapt off of WKY's back and delivered a massive knee to Geist's face and the momentum allowed him to float over the top to the apron after impact. While Geist crumbled to the mat in the corner, Britannic waited for WKY to rise before taking him right back down with a springboard clothesline.
Another quick cover by the masked man.
1...
2...
NO!
WKY was able to get his shoulder free to escape defeat. As soon as he was given the tiniest bit of distance, he rushed to the nearest corner. His hopes of escaping further damage were short-lived, as Britannic met him there with a pair of knees to the stomach. Geist tried to get involved and just as he placed a hand on Britannic's shoulder, a back elbow smacked him in the jaw. A roundhouse to the chest sent Geist stumbling back and the opposite corner saved him from falling to his rear on the mat.
A second back elbow connected, but a third was cut off by WKY who caught Britannic in the back with a dropkick, which caused him to knock heads with Geist. The Englishman was turned around; keeping Geist sandwiched in the corner. A trio of vicious chops echoed through the arena and WKY tried for a spinning back chop. Britannic was able to slip under the attack, but the same couldn't be said for Geist who caught it square in the jaw.
Trying to create some space to regain some of his lost energy, Britannic took off to the opposite corner. His Asian rival was not going to let that happen and launched him chest into the corner. WKY clotheslined Geist in one corner and looked to deliver a handspring knee to Britannic in the other. The masked man was able to catch him in midair and sit him on the top rope. A jumping uppercut nearly knocked WKY off the turnbuckle and Britannic climbed up onto the top rope with his foe. He quickly captured WKY's arm and head, but before he could take him down to the mat, Geist stopped him in his tracks with a double axe handle to the back. Once climbing up to the middle rope, Geist stretched his arm across Britannic's chest and with a Rock Bottom, he took both men off the top, inadvertently causing Britannic to deliver a flatliner to WKY off the top.
That renewed Geist's energy and he hurried Britannic back up only to spike him a sit-out T-bone spinebuster.
1...
2...
NO!
Britannic fired his arm up off the canvas with barely a moment to spare and Geist used the kick out to his advantage, rolling the pair over. A Boston crab was locked on and the German warrior pulled back with all of his might, looking to break his opponent's back. The big man's strength only intensified the strain being put on the back of the masked man. While only a few feet in reality, the ropes looked miles away and his foes greater weight kept him in the center of the ring. Knowing he had to do something, Britannic reached back with both hands and began pulling on Geist's ankles. Feeling himself become unstable, Geist rolled the duo over and catapulted Britannic right into an unsuspecting WKY, knocking him out to the floor.
After the collision, the masked man was still vertical though out on his feet. He was easy pickings for Geist to capitalize on it and he took him vertical with a suplex. All of Britannic's blood was rushing to his head, as he was kept upside down. Geist's strength allowed him to hold his foe up for several moments before planting him with a jackhammer.
1...
2...
Thr-NO!
WKY dove over the top to break up the count and save not only Britannic but himself from the loss. On top of the pile, WKY stood up just to fire off a flurry of stiff Kawada kicks to Geist's face.
Feeling he had things in hand, WKY hit the ropes and as if he was hit by a freight train, he went sent flying back by a Vader attack by Geist.
Geist wiped some blood from his mouth and muscled an unstable WKY up into a fireman's carry. Knowing this position was not a good one; the Asian fighter began fighting with all his might. Knees and elbows struck the big man on each side of his head and caused Geist to stumble back towards the ropes where WKY slid around, so his feet could be positioned on the tope rope. Thinking fast, WKY dove over his opponent, rolling into a snapmare, which was instantly followed by a dragon sleeper.
Seeing what had happened out of the corner of his eye, Britannic raced over to break it up. WKY caught him coming in with a boot to the gut and took him down with a DDT while spiking Geist with a reverse version of the same move.
A cover on Britannic.
1...
2...
NO!
Britannic's shoulder burst up of the canvas and instead of debating the count with the referee, WKY rolled right over onto Geist.
1...
2...
NO!
Geist shoved WKY off with little time left. Obviously frustrated, WKY slapped the mat and climbed back to his feet. Britannic had pulled himself up in the corner, but he was helpless to stop WKY from walloping him with a jumping Yakuza kick in the corner.
Staying on the offensive, WKY sat him on the top rope and sent him flying across the ring with a beautiful springboard hurricanrana.
A pin attempt followed.
1...
2...
Thr-NO!
Growing more and more frustrated, WKY growled and struck the mat again. He looked to the referee this time and was reassured that it was only a count of two. He looked for a vertical suplex on his foe. His attempt was blocked twice and a knee caught him in the gut. A quick rotation by Britannic allowed him to snapmare WKY over and kick him in the spine. Before WKY could react to the first kick, Britannic spun in place and delivered a low spinning heel kick right to WKY's mouth.
Exhaustion was taking its toll on all three men and no one was able to take advantage of the others' weakness. A few seconds passed before they started to show some life. While Britannic used the ropes to stand back up, Geist slid into the ring. The two met in the middle of the ring and the two fighters restarted their battle of strikes, much to the horror of the crowd, who cringed with each sickening blow. Elbows and haymakers connected again and again with each more brutal than the last. Neither would budge and they just might have gone all night long if it wasn't for Geist using the Greco-Roman thumb to the eye to gain an advantage. The big German spun like a top and almost took Britannic out of his boots with a discus punch.
Now was not a good time for WKY to stick his nose into things, a fact that he learned a moment too late, as Geist assaulted him with an explosion of body shots and looked for another discus punch. WKY was able to duck the big strike and he dropped Geist to one knee with a low kick. Unmatched in speed, Geist didn't have time to blink before WKY stepped onto his thigh and smacked him with a backspin enziguiri.
Britannic was in similar position as to what his attacked foe was just in and WKY looked to end things with his patented Shining Wizard knee strike. The masked man was able to narrowly slip under the strike and clamped on a rear waist lock. WKY quickly broke free and locked on one of his own. A left-right combination of back elbows broke the hold and Britannic was able to reach through his own legs to execute a single leg takedown. The Asian warrior was not going to be put in any submission and used his free leg to shoot his enemy into the ropes. He rolled to his stomach and then, tried to leapfrog his foe. Britannic was expecting that and was able to catch the airborne WKY on his shoulders in powerbomb position. A buckle bomb whiplashed WKY's head and he staggered into the path of an incoming Britannic who turned him inside out with a Busaiku knee kick.
After using his last bit of energy, Britannic couldn't capitalize on the fact that his two foes were lifeless on the mat, locking the three men in a stalemate. The young upstart rolled to the apron in hope that none of his foes could try to pin him while he was exhausted. The ropes assisted him in climbing to his feet and just in time to see Geist stampeding towards him. A shoulder block between the ropes by Geist was countered by an elbow to the back of his head, as he peeked it between the ropes. A vicious punt to the face halted any future ideas Geist had and he lay motionless across the middle rope.
WKY stumbled over to the duo and Britannic struck Geist's leg with a kick, sending it flying back so it caught WKY right between the legs.
That one made every man in the audience groan.
A slingshot Code Breaker put the Asian fighter down on the mat.
There was a fire building in the rookie's eyes and everyone watching could see the adrenaline start coursing through his veins. Geist pulled himself out from between the ropes and Britannic fired off a vicious roaring elbow that laid the big man out.
Not done there, Britannic cocked his elbow back to strike WKY with one and he watched as his foe immediately ducked. He canceled that action and cracked WKY in the back of the head with an axe kick that stood him up for Britannic to put his lights out with a roaring elbow.
Knowing he couldn't just stay down, Geist battled back up and tried for a right hand. Britannic simultaneously ducked the strike and locked the arm in a half nelson. The crowd couldn't believe their eyes as the British rookie dumped the German on his head with a half nelson suplex.
Growling loudly, as his chest expanded and contracted, Britannic had another surprise in store for everyone. He reached back and pulled his mask off. The fans were unsure of who it was, as blond hair blocked the man's face from view with him leaning over. He took one of the long red streamers he had tied around his bicep and tied it around his head at an angle, so it covered only his right eye. He stood back up and flicked his hair out of his face, making it clear just who was under the mask. It was by no means a rookie, let alone one from Manchester, England. It was an angry snarling wolf from the frozen land of Russia. Arkady Rasputin had come back to ACW.
WKY was the first to meet the unmasked wolf and Arkady exploded with a brutal combination in the form of a left-right combination to the abdomen followed by the same to the jaw. A spinning back fist with the right hand led to a right-footed roundhouse to the jaw and a spinning sole butt with the same foot. Arkady capped the whole thing off with a sick kick.
Knowing his foe was on a roll and even more so with the crowd behind him, WKY hurried to safety on the floor and that didn't matter at all the Arkady who turned his attention to Geist. With the mask gone, it was obvious that a different man was now in the match. No longer did he have to use a style not his own. His kicks were stiff before, but now the chains were off and the wolf was bringing new meaning to the word. Just one roundhouse to the chest took Geist off his feet like he was struck by a wrecking ball, while the crowd cringed in horror at the sound.
Still snarling, Arkady violently dragged the German out to the middle of the ring. The Winter Soldier displayed his own power by lifting the big man onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry. Anyone who watched Arkady do battle in the squared circle knew that two things would follow. Geist's jaw was rocked by the Go2Sleep and he was kept from falling to the mat by a half nelson, just so he could be dropped on his head and neck by what many experts call the best brainbuster in the business today, the FUKSZ.
A rare cover by the wolf.
1...
2...
Thre-NO!!!
WKY broke it up just in time, as Geist was not moving at all. Though, that may have not been the best thing for him, as the Russian wolf went right after him, backing him into the corner with huge reverse knife edge chops. Arkady would just not stop his assault of WKY and the referee had to physically pry them apart by stepping between them. The referee created just enough space to get free of the duo, but he took his eye off them for just a second. That second was all WKY needed and he kicked Arkady square in the testicles.
Not even the rejuvenated Arkady could fight through that pain and WKY dumped him on the back of his head with a Ranhei.
1...
2...
NO!!!
Geist interfered and starting clubbing away at WKY until pulling him up to pepper him with left jabs. An Irish whip led to a missed clothesline and WKY came right back with a handspring off the ropes into a gamengiri.
That surge took emptied what little energy WKY had left in the tank and it took him an extra moment to go back on the offensive. He dashed towards his foe and tried for a monkey flip. Geist was having no part of that and sent WKY crashing upside down into the corner with a belly to belly suplex.
Geist was growing tired of this conflict and decided it was time to end it. He had only one thing on his mid. Once he lifted his Asian opponent onto his shoulder, he took him one level higher with a crucifix. There was only one way down for WKY and Geist brutally deposited him in the center of the ring with his trademark standing release crucifix bomb or what he likes to call, "The Burial".
A jackknife cover by the big man.
1...
2...
Thre-NO!!!
Arkady dove onto the pile to break the count, as there was no way WKY was escaping defeat on his own after such a move. Arkady was breathing heavy, but he wouldn't stay down or give up. He positioned Geist in the corner and a pair of European uppercuts connected. Geist reversed an Irish whip attempt and fired Arkady into the corner he just stepped out of. The impact of the collision with the corner caused Arkady to stagger out to Geist who slammed him down with a tilt-a-whirl into a sit-out powerbomb.
1...
2...
Thre-NO!!!
With no chance of WKY making the save, Arkady had to dig deep to just get his shoulder off the mat. Geist had things in control. They weren't firmly in his control by any means, but he had them. The big man tore off his elbow pad and wound up his right arm. Not many have ever gotten up after an UBER lariat from Geist and it looked like the crowd was about to see if the wolf was one of those people. Like a locomotive nearly coming off the tracks, Geist came roaring at Arkady. Swing and a miss, strike one. Arkady came right back with a super kick.
Geist might have been out of it, but he wouldn't go down. A second super kick landed and still Geist wouldn't go down. Arkady let out a thunderous roar and stepped up onto his foe's thigh with his left foot. He quickly spiraled on that foot and drove his right heel into Geist's jaw.
The only move in Arkady's set that didn't have a horror nickname, the Crimson Dynamo, was perfectly executed and Geist was lifeless on the mat. Arkady battled back to his feet only to be stunned by a super kick from WKY.
Things looked to be only getting worse for Arkady, as he wobbled back and forth after the kick. WKY locked arms with him and looked for a Vertebreaker. Arkady was able to do a back roll to escape and try for a move of his own, a German suplex. Not to be outdone, WKY executed a back flip to save himself and just as Arkady rolled over to a three-point stance to keep WKY in his sights, the man from Hong Kong blasted him in the temple with a roundhouse.
Obviously exhausted, WKY stumbled to the ropes and used the top rope as a crutch to keep from falling to the mat. It only took about ten seconds for WKY to regain his wits and he kept right on Arkady. This time, he laced the wolf's arms across his chest and took him upside down for what looked to be a piledriver. Geist put an end to that with a running Yakuza kick that caught WKY between Arkady's legs.
The kick allowed Arkady to land safely on his feet. He immediately lifted WKY up for an Alabama slam. Geist wasn't having any part of that either and with a single uppercut, took both men to the mat.
Despite the pain and agony they felt, both Arkady and WKY knew they had to get back up. They did, but Geist quickly knocked them both down with a double clothesline.
The two victims made their way to opposite corners, as Geist played to the crowd. The German warrior whipped WKY into Arkady and came charging towards them. WKY rolled out of his way, while the Winter Soldier caught him with a boot to the mouth. Geist stumbled back to the center of the ring and he quickly found himself on the receiving end of a double super kick from his two foes, which sandwiched his head between their boots.
The duo's alliance was only momentary and they began trading roundhouses to the chest. Anyone who knows Arkady knows that tired or not, you don't get into a kicking competition with the Russian wolf. He quickly turned up the heat on WKY, nailing kick after kick completely uncontested. WKY soon found himself cornered, but it was only for a second, as Arkady whipped him into the opposite corner. The Winter Soldier looked for a step up knee in the corner and WKY blocked it by crudely shoving Arkady over the top to the floor before contact.
WKY had no time to look over his handy work, as Geist came charging towards him. WKY clipped the big man's knee with a well-placed dropkick and hurried to the ropes. A shining wizard knocked Geist into the middle of next week.
After hitting one of the moves he was well-known for, WKY felt the time was right to end things once and for all. Victory was so close that he could taste it. He dug deep and raced to the corner. In one fluid motion, he positioned himself on the top rope. WKY amazed the crowd, as he leapt into the air with hang time never before seen by many in attendance and came down on Geist with a Mad Splash.
The impact bounced WKY off the mat and he rolled up to his feet, but he had to clutch his abdomen in agony. If he stayed on top of Geist, he may have had the pinfall. However, the fates didn't smile upon him this night. Arkady surprised him with a tiger suplex.
Never letting go, he pulled WKY back up and transitioned to a crossface chicken wing. A millennium suplex spiked the Asian fighter on his head.
With the submission still applied, Arkady rolled him face down and kicked over into a bridge. His crossface chicken wing variation of the Cattle Mutilation known as "The Mask of Voorhees" was locked in and right in the center of the ring to boot.
Struggling with everything he had left, WKY couldn't escape the hold or move himself any closer to the ropes. His only means of escape still lay motionless on the mat by his own doing. WKY's brains were scrambled by the suplexes and his arm was being torn from its socket. He gave it one last effort, but there was no hope.
TAP TAP TAP!!!
The referee hurried to call for the bell and Arkady released the hold. He lay on his back for a little bit to regain some energy before rising back up. He was the victor and now, once again a part of the ACW roster. He howled loudly to which the crowd did the same and he held up his arms in victory. The referee handed him the envelope with the contract inside and he was met by ACW's favorite interviewer, Olivia McMullen, before he could even exit the ring.
"Arkady, what are you doing here and where have you been?" Olivia asked what everyone was obviously thinking.
"Spare me your pointless questions and march your ass back to where you came from,” Arkady replied sharply and swiped the microphone from her. Apathetic to his return anyway, Olivia did just that. "Now, she just like everyone else here only needs to focus on what is going to happen. What is going to happen when you enter the ring with me and what is going to happen in the near future? The first part is simple. Just listen to the crowd. They'll tell you exactly what is going to happen when you want to do battle with the lycan..."
"As for the second part, know this: I'm not alone. By no means am I talking about the Englishman, the deaf soldier, or the skank who cheated on me and high-tailed it back to that shit hole American promotion. I'm speaking of another warrior climbing out of his casket to bring the apocalypse to ACW. And believe me when I tell you that apocalypse is on the horizon. You have been warned."
WINNER: Arkady via SUBMISSION
WTF!
The scene faded to the backstage area, Robbie Gates stood outside of one of the locker rooms within the confines of the Acer Arena. What good would a journalistic endeavor be without the assistance of a microphone in hand and a member of the camera crew? It wouldn’t be much of an attempt at all, and that’s why the consummate professional and former sports anchor.
“Ladies and gentlemen, on a night as big as Revival some of the matches on this card could seemingly fall through the cracks. One man in particular has higher aspirations for the night though; a man who plans on making his debut into All-Star Championship Wrestling on a grand stage.” Gates paused for a moment as he turned the handle on the door he stood beside.
“A man who is destined to do great things in his career; and whom will surely rise through the ranks like an exploding powder keg.” Gates entered into the room, and the camera turned upon the man preparing for his match.
Though the man of African-American origin didn’t look to be the biggest cat in the ACW playground; he definitely wasn’t the smallest either. His face was adorned with a lightly trimmed goatee and a neatly cut small faux hawk rested atop his head. His black underwear style wrestling tights shimmered with the outlining silver trim around the edges and his black wrestling boots were accented greatly with the gold kick pads that rested on top of them. The look was seemingly modest in a fashion that made the man look like a million dollars, and it was no wonder that people would be excited and anticipating his debut in this squared circle.
Just as Robbie was about to speak once more, the man quit his workout and turned to the camera, “Allow myself to introduce myself.” The man began, and Robbie just pushed the microphone closer to his lips to oblige his need to speak. “My name is David Race, and as you’ve certainly seen from watching me prepare I am a finely tuned athletic machine.”
Race struck a pose showing off his muscles, “I’ve had to train, fight, and scrap my way to the point I’m at now. For five long years I’ve worked to make my way to the main stage of this wrestling promotion; and tonight all of that hard work comes to fruition. I don’t care who the booking committee deems fit enough to go up against me in my debut match, but they will most certainly fall at my hands.”
“You may as well retitle this show though, because after I get done in that ring the only thing people around the world will be talking about is the David Race show.” Race smiled into the camera, “Tonight, ACW, is going into self-destruct sequence and the only man with the key to survival is the man standing before you; and I’m not shutting down until I reach the top.”
Race turned from the camera and headed toward the door, knowing his debut match was set to happen shortly. The camera man turned his attention back to Gates, who was just about to making his closing statements when Race could be heard cussing from behind the man holding the camera.
“What the hell did you do Gates?” Race questioned furiously, “You’ve broken the door and now we’re stuck in here!”
“I didn’t do anything,” Robbie proclaimed, “I didn’t even shut the door after we came in. Did you?” Gates began questioning the camera man. The camera swayed back and forth at the acknowledgment from the camera signing no that he hadn’t either.
“Well, you better get ahold of someone in security. I’m not missing my debut match because of a low tier interviewers blunders!”
And that comment is all we were left with as the scene faded out of the backstage area and into the Acer Arena, where David Race’s opponent Remi De Rozario stood in the middle of the ring with Tommy Vale and referee Leon Hurst, who seemed confused at the happenings they were seeing transpire on the tron before them.
TAG TEAM MATCH - STANDARD RULES David Race vs. Remi De Rozario
Three men continued to stand within the confines of the ACW squared circle; the opponent (Remi De Rozario), the referee (Leon Hurst), and the ring announcer (Tommy Vale). Rozario was looking rather confident as Hurst and Vale were discussing the possibilities of throwing the match out. That was until the lights in the arena blacked out, no spotlights, no pyro, and no fireworks.
The slow hum of the tron coming to life was the only thing that could be heard throughout the arena, with the exception of a few fans shouting. “Intro (Canto III)” by Red began to play over the speakers within the arena and a video package began to play.
One Year and Three Months Ago…
A Superstar Vanished…
His Legacy Ruined…
Thought to be Dead…
He Has Been Waiting…
He Has Been Watching…
Tonight, The Dead Walk Among You…
The Return of the Resurrected Anti-Star!
The final words of the cryptic message began to sink in with the entire Acer Arena, and it began to roar. The lights in the arena remained dark as the song came to a close.
Was this all some sick joke? Remi could be seen watching the entrance way with a look of confusion resting upon his face. Leon Hurst, however, was in the same boat as the fans; he watched the entrance ramp captivated could this be?
A singular spotlight hit the center of the top of the entrance stage, and “Survive” by Sick Puppies blasted throughout the arena. A theme song that hadn’t been heard in over a year and the intrigue of the fans and Leon Hurst were all answered as the silhouette of a man stepped into the spotlight.
The trademark black wrestling tights and black wrestling boots, a black vest top with adjoining hood covered the man’s head. He stood with for a moment with his head lowered and his white taped fists clinched at his sides, until he shot his head up tossing the hood from atop his head.
Under the hood rested medium length sandy blonde hair, now accented with black streaking throughout it, and a similar looking full beard of grizzly proportions.
The ripple effect of the vest also exposed two wounds in the chest, one on each side of the chest just below the collarbone. The aftermath of two bullets that were meant to be the demise of this man, they have helped him to his path of resurrection.
The fans in attendance were going nuts and the only thing that could be heard reverberating throughout the arena were the chants…
RAMEY! RAMEY! RAMEY! RAMEY!
Revival had truly gone at this point from just being the name of what was set to be an outstanding pay-per-view by a wrestling promotion; and had truly lived up to its name.
The resurrected Anti-Star made his way toward the ring at a low key pace, his intentions for the evening still unbeknownst to the masses. Ramey entered the ring, gave a half smile and nod in the direction of his longtime friend Leon Hurst, then turned his attention toward the turnbuckle.
Climbing to the middle rope, Ramey surveyed the audience in attendance, which were still going crazy, and shot on fist into the air. Jumping down from the ropes Jesse slowly approached Remi and leaned in, the two seemed to be exchanging words. Remi smiled at the proposition that had been lain out before him. Jesse then turned to Hurst and signaled to get the match under way.
Not only would this be Jesse Ramey’s first appearance after missing for over a year, but apparently at the approval of both Remi and Hurst it would also be his return to the squared circle. “Let’s do this! Ring the bell!” Hurst shouted to the time keeper.
DING! DING! DING!
Ramey extended his hand toward Remi and the two shook hands before turning back to their respective corners. Then the battle would ensue as both men began circling the center of the ring, looking for the opportune moment to make their first move.
Ramey shot across grabbing Remi and pulling him into a collar and elbow tie-up, which he then pulled into a side headlock. Remi kept his footing, slipped back, and shot Ramey across the ring. On the rebound Remi dropped to the mat forcing Jesse to leap over his downed body. Ramey shot off the ropes once more, and Remi got back to his feet quickly only to leap frog over Jesse and avoid contact once again.
De Rozario turned quickly to try and catch Jesse this time, but instead Ramey had decided to jump onto the middle rope and come back with a springboard spinning heel kick that caught Remi directly in the face. Remi dropped hard to the mat and Ramey back to his feet darted toward the ropes once more. Jesse came running back through hitting a flipping leg drop across the throat of Remi.
Jesse drags Remi back to his feet and whips him into the corner, waiting until De Rozario hits back first against the turnbuckle padding. Ramey then takes a few steps back and begins chagrining the corner only to be met by a set of boots to the face. Remi charged out of the corner grabbing hold of Jesse’s head along the way and face planting him to the mat with a running bulldog.
Quickly rolling over Ramey’s body Remi climbs into the full mount position and begins throwing lefts and rights in as fast as he can. Trying to block the onslaught seemed to be a total fail, but eventually De Rozario let up his attack only to bring Ramey back to his feet. Remi drove a boot into Ramey’s midsection and quickly brought him over with a snap suplex.
Remi once again attempted to bring Ramey back to his feet, but before he even know what was going on the feet were being swept out from under him. Then he found himself belly down looking out at the fans as Ramey had just that quickly twisted him into an elevated Boston crab, resting on knee in the back of De Rozario for extra leverage.
The struggle to get to the bottom rope to break the hold was fully under way, as Remi fought for a good minute before his hand came smacking down onto the mats. Leon Hurst rushed in to make sure that Ramey was willingly going to break the hold, and that was it. The match had finished just as quickly as it had started.
DING! DING! DING!
“And your winner of this match, via submission,” Tommy Vale announced, “JESSE RAMEY!”
Ramey helped Remi back to his feet as “Survivor” began to play once more. Jesse grabbed hold of De Rozario’s arm and lifted it into the air. Jesse then patted him on the back, but before he was able to exit the ring Leon Hurst grabbed Ramey by the arm. What he would then say was not picked up by any of the camera men filming, but from the motion of the lips it seemed as though he had said to Ramey, “We need to talk.”
WINNER: Jesse Ramey via SUBMISSION
New King In Town
As Joe Bishop sat in his office for this evening, he knew Revival was going to be a major stepping stone in the ACW revolution. With the first ESEN showpiece only a mere week away and the travel nightmare that was getting everyone to Japan safe and sound.
Speaking of sound.
*thud thud thud*
"What the hell is that?"
Before he could even get to his feet, Bishops office door swung open by force as a troop of black suits walked into the office, filing in to the left and the right.
Ten is total.
Five either side.
A clone squadron of black suits, white shirts and black ties.
The eleventh member held a boom box, which blasted out 'Partyman' by Prince ala the famous Joker scene from Tim Burton’s original Batman movie.
"Who the..."
Bishop was speechless as the eleven members of the goon squad all bobbed their heads to the funky beat, and it stayed with way for another five seconds or so, until one more man strolled through the door.
Dressed in a jazzed up purple suit and spinning a solid chrome walking stick, the man glided his way past the others and stood right in front of Bishops desk.
He was at around 6 foot tall, but built like the side of a brick wall. His stock features were accompanied by a glistening smile, and chiselled jawline and almost perfect cheek bones.
This guy made the girls swoon.
Freshly shaved with a slicked back hairstyle, ala CM Punk, he turned around to reveal three letters which were stitched into the back of his suit.
W.O.W.
The man, who could only be known as WOW at this point, then turned around and kicked his cane, spinning it in the air and flicking it under his arm, he ushered in another man with his hand, and he looked the official type. Glasses, combed to a middle shed hair with a cheap suit. He also carried a document in his hand before WOW turned around and put his hand in the air, clenching his fist.
The music stopped.
The door closed.
The meeting commenced.
"Just what the hell is this? Who the hell are you all coming in here? I'll call security!"
"Mr Bishop," the feeble little specky man said. "Please do not be alarmed, we mean you no harm."
As WOW stood behind his associated, Bishop couldn't take his eyes off him, WOW on the other hand was looking at his shoes, they were dirty.
A click of the fingers meant the closest clone to his left dropped to one knee and buffed away with a handkerchief.
"I am here to present to you a proposal from my client, my name is Mr Jenkins, and I am the chief lawyer at WOW Enterprises."
Bishop looked at the cover of the document that had been passed in front of him and it looked like some sort of contract.
"My client is in the position to be able to offer you something quite extraordinary Mr Bishop, he would like to pay you and you're company, to be able to compete here."
...
"Come again?"
"Through a number of means, my client has amassed quite a fortune Mr Bishop, and let’s say he has become bored with conventional hobbies. His mass intellect and nature for competition has lead him to these shores, to follow this fine wrestling company to all corners of the globe in a bid for pure competition."
Jenkins took a rest for a moment as Bishop flicked through the contract quickly before baulking at the figures he seen.
"Why... this is a very large sum of money, and you will be paying us?"
"Precisely."
"So what is the catch?"
WOW smiled as Jenkins continued the conversation.
"There is no catch per say Mr Bishop, just an understanding from you that with this fee, and this contract, it should give my client a shall we say, head start in some areas of the competing for honours around here."
Bishop shook his head.
"If your man wants honours here, he must work for them."
Another smile from WOW.
"That is certainly what my client wants to do Mr Bishop, prove himself amongst the best in the World. He simply asks that you keep him in mind for any possible openings there may be, and he will do the rest."
Bishop looked at the contract once more; it was a big sum of money, before looking at WOW up and down.
"Does your client have anything to say for himself, or will you be his mouthpiece the whole time?"
"Mr Bishop please..."
"Leroy."
Suddenly a word exited his mouth, as Jenkins moved to one side to reveal his boss. His tone was of level nature, it didn't boom, but it didn't whine.
It was to be respected.
"Joseph, I merely asked Leroy to come in here for the verbal battle because I did not want to confuse or seem like I was performing some sort of vocabulary rape on your own wit."
what?
"My name is Wade Orsival Watson; the Billion Dollar Man."
As Bishop wondered what the fuck he had just got himself into, Jenkins peeped out from the line-up of clones on the right hand side.
"Don't worry, we have trademarked that name."
"Leroy."
He folded back into line.
"I have done a lot with my life Joseph, and this is just another quest I would like to complete before I level up in years to my demise. I am here, at your mercy, to try and compete with the final athletes that you have on your roster."
Watson then took a step back and waited for Bishop to reply.
"Fine, turn up in Japan next week and we will see what you can do."
Watson nodded to the clone with the boom box to begin his exit track as he swooned out of Bishops office, another clone opening the door for him. He exited right into the main hall way and made his exit through the fire escape.
Bishop didn't know what to think or say; but when this calendar year is out, he will know that this was the day that he met the new King in town.
ACW TAG TEAM TITLE MATCH The Night Life (c) vs. Big E. Smalls vs. PowerTrip
For the better part of the last calendar year, aside from a couple of different hiccups when ACW toured Mexico, The Night Life in all its raving, drug-inducing, techno-spinning glory had ruled the ACW Tag Team Division. Two-time champions who were currently the longest-reigning title holders (no part in thanks to heel chicanery and other forms of douchebaggery.) as of today. The Night Life were set in their ways and it served them well.
Up until recently where the new ACW climate had been rather unkind to them. They lost a pair of non-title Proving Ground matches to two very formidable teams. First, the team of Big E. Smalls beat them in a match, then PowerTrip also beat them the following week. The Night Life hadn't been all for naught, however, as they defeated both The Squadron in another match and in triple threat action, Kaus pulled out the victory over Mach 2 and Mr. Trip showing that they were definitely still in the game. Could either team unseat the Night Life or would their reign of terror continue?
Saliva's 'Click, Click, Boom' served as a warning. Father's lock up your daughters.
‘Click Click Boom! I'm comin' down on the stereo, hear me on the radio’
Husband's tie up your wives.
‘Click Click Boom! I'm on the radio station TOUR around the nation leaving the scene in devastation’
Boy-Friends...
‘I can see it in my mind I can see it in your eyes’
Well you're shit-out-of-luck, Power Trip is here!
‘Come on, comon Everybody come on! Come on, comon Click Click Boom!’
The curtains parted as the team of PowerTrip made their way out first, looking out to the booing crowd of Australians. Normally they’d all be for the party but with a bunch of people who would be at ringside already and them wanting to get down to business, Mr. Trip and Mr. Power entered the ring, staring down the crowd. Tonight, they had gold on their mind and wanted to be the ones to end the Night Life's reign of raving terror.
GROUND CONTROL, WE HAVE LIFT-OFF IN FIVE...
FOUR...
THREE...
TWO...
ONE...
Y'ALL DON'T REALLY WANT IT NOW!”
“Here Comes The Boom” by Nelly.
And the fans went CRAZY WACKY WILD for the fiery Mach 2, the energetic Big E. Stark and Mach's lovely girlfriend, Leticia “Lettie” Rios. Mach 2 was all smiles as he made his way to the ring and walked down with a purpose. Mach 2 slid in between the ropes and made his way inside the ring. Big E. climbed in between the ropes and they looked on at PowerTrip. Both were engaged heavily in lots of trash talk, both making claims that they would be walking out with the titles. But the champions? You could probably imagine they'd be saying something about that.
Somewhere out there in the vast nothingness of space Somewhere far away in space and time Staring upwards at the gleaming stars in the obsidian sky
The fans stared on at the incredibly gaudy and downright unnecessary light show overtaking the entrance. The fans were quiet, looking on at a downright amazing light show. The third time time that Australia had been treated to such a gaudy spectacle.
We're marooned on a small island, in an endless sea Confined to a tiny speck of sand, unable to escape, But tonight on this small planet... on Earth... We're gonna rock civilization
“Slam” by Pendulum hit the speakers and the party truly begun. Carrying the ACW Tag Team Titles, the fans booed the raver brigade making their way down to the ring. Aleczander and Kaus came out first, the enforcers of the Night Life were both carrying the ACW Tag Team Titles out. Fever Pitch was waving the glowsticks of war, while Zip Zap was dancing like a buffoon and Elixr looked like her sultry self. The Rave Brigade were heading on down to the ring and Aleczander and Kaus both headed up to the ring, holding the titles for all to see. All six men were ready for battle and this was going to be a hard-hitting affair.
The bell rang and the match started off with Mach 2 getting some cheers from the crowd as he took on Mr. Power. The smaller half of the PowerTrip could probably be the only person in this match who could match Mach 2 move for move.
He ran at Mach, but the crowd favorite took him over quickly with a headlock take over. Mr. Power stood back up and ran at him again, but Mach 2 was ready and snapped him over with quick Japanese arm drag. Mr. Power flew back to his feet and when Mach 2 came running he got snapped over as well with a good old-fashioned American arm drag. He locked Mach 2 in a headlock now and started to blow kisses to a couple of girls in the audience.
Mach 2 shoved him into the ropes and caught him with a quick back elbow to the head to knock him over. He pinned him down and tried going for the first cover.
1...
2...
But Mach 2 and Big E. Stark didn't work this hard and make it this far just to go down in the first few moments of the match. He got up, only to take a couple of kicks from Mr. Power. He fired Mach 2 into the ropes and when he came back he went for a tilt-a-whirl... nope, reversed by Mach 2 into another arm drag! And when Mr. Power got up he jumped up and caught him with a dropsault kick.
The fans were right behind Mach 2 as he got back up and made him pay for it again with a knee facebuster, driving Mr. Power's chin into his knee. While he was stunned he turned him around and snapped him down with a hard neckbreaker. Mach 2 was all over it and went for the pinfall.
1...
2...
Mr. Power's turn to kick out. Mach 2 picked him up and he tried launching him again but Mr. Power reversed it. Mach 2 came back for a sunset flip but Power rolled through and back to his feet before hitting a dropkick right to Mach 2's face.
He pulled him off the mat and the other members of the match watched as Power tagged in Mr. Trip. He climbed to the top rope and came down hard with a double axe handle right to the head of the Supersonic Kid. With him being driven down, the members of PowerTrip worked him over and both launched him into the corner. Trip launched Power at him and connected with a spinning heel kick that saw him sail right over Mach 2 and land on the apron. Mr. Trip came back in with a running corner dropkick that drilled the air right out of Mach 2. He staggered right into Mr. Trip's grip who snapped him up and over with a quick exploder suplex.
Rather than go for the cover after the great sequence of moves, Mr. Trip smiled and beat his chest like he was the king of the jungle. He finally turned Mach 2 over and went for the cover.
1...
2...
Kaus to the rescue!
Well, more for the rescue of their ACW Tag Team Titles, but it was one fall to a finish and they couldn't let the belt change hands without even getting a chance to be in the match. Trip and Kaus glared at one another, some bad feelings left over from last show. He took Mach 2 by the head and pulled him back up but he kicked him in the leg and kicked him twice before jumping up and connecting with a big roundhouse kick. He rolled over and hooked the leg.
1...
2...
And no way, jose, Mr. Trip kicked out. Mach 2 picked him back up and tried to get over to his tag team partner who was waiting. Stark never got the tag though as Trip rushed him into the corner... ALECZANDER WITH THE BLIND TAG!
Mr. Trip complained to the referee, but wasn't going to allow him to get any further in the match. Trip was forced to go back to his corner and left Mach 2 all alone with the big heavy hitter of the Night Life. Aleczander stepped through the ropes and tried to catch Mach 2 with a punch, but he ducked and kicked him in the knee with some stiff shots. He ran off the ropes and ducked a clothesline attempt but when he came back he didn't see the double sledge coming and had the CRAP knocked right out of him. Aleczander pushed him to the ground and made a pretty lazy and heelish cover, counting along with the referee.
1...
2...
He kicked out pretty easily, but Aleczander continued to punish him. He tied him up in a half nelson and clubbed him with some big punches to his back. He took Mach 2 and also played to the crowd a little bit as the other Night Lifers cheered him on from ringside. The Last Star Standing tried for a big suplex on him but Mach 2 hit him with two knees to the head at the apex of the move. Aleczander stubbornly tried again but the result was the same and dropped more knees down.
Mach 2 scurried away from him and made the tag over to the biggest guy in the match, the man called Big E. Stark. And the fans cheered for the stand-off between the two big men as they waited for them to come to blows. Each man took a moment to talk some trash with one another.
“Billion dollar body and a five-cent pecker...” Stark fired back.
Aleczander got back at him by shoving his face, making him back up a step or two. He laughed at him being able to muscle him around but when Stark moved his face back, he caught Aleczander right in the mouth with a big right hand. He charged off to the ropes and came back with a clothesline that only rocked Aleczander back a little bit. Stark shook his head and gestured for Aleczander to run off the ropes and when he did, he came back with a clothesline of his own. He only made The Yonkers Bomber stop for a second.
The two big men were at a stand-off.
Stark pointed to the ropes and Aleczander looked like he was about to run but didn't see the southpaw coming, jacking his jaw. He hoisted him up and actually HELD big Aleczander in a delayed suplex position, holding him place. Kaus tried coming into the ring to his rescue but both members of PowerTrip came into the ring and stopped him, turning him over with a modified surfboard submission. All this while Stark was still holding up Aleczander in the air.
Mach 2 climbed the top rope as the fans were wowed by Big E's strength and he climbed the top rope, flying off and STOMPING Kaus's exposed ribs.
And finally Stark let Aleczander go by driving him back down to the mat with a big suplex. The fans were now cheering Mach 2 and Big E. Stark who climbed into the ring and high-fived each other. The referee ordered him to clear out of the fray as Mr. Power and Mr. Trip were made to go back to their own corners. Meanwhile, Stark was left with Aleczander as he picked him up and tackled him into the corner before chopping him with some open handed shots.
Aleczander caught him with a knee strike and turned him around, doubling him over with a couple hard knees to the head before bringing him down to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker, complete with a fist pump that he called...
THE FIST PUMP~!
He turned him over and went for a much better cover than he did last time.
1...
2...
Stark kicked out and sent Aleczander into a fit of rage with the referee. He threatened to break off the referee's two fingers and went back to attacking Stark with a couple more fists to the head. He ran off the ropes, but Mach 2 saw him coming and pulled the ropes down, sending Aleczander tripping through the ropes and landing on the floor.
Mach 2 leaped into the ring and played up to the crowd, no doubt preparing something awesome. He ran off the opposite side and was preparing a dive...
CUT OFF AT THE PASS BY A MR. TRIP DROPKICK!
PowerTrip had seen enough and felt excluded from the match so he got back at Mach 2 for earlier and nearly kicked him into the next zip code. Aleczander was starting to climb back into the ring so Stark kneeled over and Mr. Power used him as a launching pad, flying off his own tag team partner's back and caught him in the face with a dropkick that sent him tumbling back down to the floor.
Mr. Trip was back on his feet and saw Big E. Stark getting back up in the opposite corner. He charged right at the big man, but The Yonkers Bomber saw him coming and shot him right over the ropes, clearing them with ease and crashing the hard way on the ringside floor.
Power was left on the apron and tried to sneak in a move on Big E. Stark, but this time Kaus came running and caught the smaller Power with a STO onto the ring apron that floored him for the moment. But what Kaus didn't see was Big E. Stark climbing to the ringside area as he went over to help Aleczander back up. Fever Pitch, Zip Zap and Elixr cried out to the other Night Lifers, trying to warn them, but they didn't see him coming until it was too late...
SOMERSAULT APRON DIVE~!
Stark shot back to his feet and went over to the crowd to high five a couple of people in the front row and the action was getting fast paced quickly. He tossed Aleczander back into the ring and jabbed him with a couple of elbows to the head before scooping him up and dropping him with a walking scoop powerslam. Standing up, he gazed at his fist before running off the ropes...
WHAT. DA. HELL-BOW~!
The debut of his newest move, the fans cheered as Stark connected with the elbow and he tried to finish off the match. He picked up Aleczander's big carcass, but the big man elbowed him in the side and squirmed his way free. He ran away and tagged in Kaus, who jumped into the ring and took down Big E. Stark with a springboard clothesline. Kaus crawled over and went for a lateral press.
1...
2...
And saved by Mach 2, who was back in action! Lettie Rios was cheering on her boys as Mach 2 was ordered to go back to the corner. Kaus took Big E. by the head and kicked him with some pretty bad Kawada kicks before pulling the big man to his feet. He whipped Stark to the ropes, but didn't see Mach 2 tag himself in. Stark ducked the big boot that Kaus tried for and he walked right into an inverted atomic drop. Mach 2 came running off the opposite side of the ring and he launched his tag team partner in the air with Mach 2 landing and connecting with a dropkick to the head. He tried for a cover now.
1...
2...
But Kaus kicked out right before three. He picked up Kaus by the head and clobbered him with some forearm smashes as he tossed him into the ropes. Mr. Trip tagged himself in behind Mach 2's back as Kaus was launched into the corner. Mach 2 came running at him with a big running rolling koppo kick to the top of his head.
Kaus was knocked loopy but he wasn't through in the corner. Mr. Trip came charging at him and running enziguri kick to the side of the head. And that wasn't all either. Mr. Power was right behind him as his partner ducked down and flew off his back and hit some poetry in motion. The silent assassin of the Night Life was stunned and walked right into a double kick to the legs. With Kaus on his knees, the twins went for a double kick to the head that knocked Kaus nearly the hell out. Mr. Trip turned his limp body over and went for the cover.
1...
2...
But no way, jose, he got saved by Aleczander. The big man came to the aid of his cohort in no time and kept him from keeping the cover. He turned him away and the referee scooted him back into the corner as Mr. Power slid between the ropes and held both his feet out. Trip led The Diamond Child to the corner and smashed his face into his exposed feet.
Mr. Power was tagged in and he jumped all over Kaus, kicking him in the chest before tossing him across the ring to the only unused corner. Kaus was stationed there, groggy, while Mr. Power came running. Kaus moved out of the way, but Mr. Power stopped himself as Kaus came running off the ropes and nearly ran right through Kaus turning him nearly inside out. He pushed him over and tied him up in a modified jack knife cradle pin.
1...
2...
And it was close, but Mr. Power kicked out and the race for the ACW Tag Team Titles was still going on. Kaus ripped Mr. Power right off the mat and doubled him over with a couple of hard kicks before trying for some kind of a back suplex move, but Mr. Power backflipped his happy self out. Kaus turned around and got doubled over with a kick and Mr. Power followed that up with a running dropkick that nearly turned his head around.
“Come the fuck on, ref, do something!” Fever Pitch yelled.
He just shrugged at the protesting Night Lifers while Mr. Power ran off the ropes. Kaus got back to his head and ran off the ropes to catch him with a running bulldog on the way back. He stood back up blew kisses to the crowd before he flipped around and impressed the crowed with a spectacular standing corkscrew shooting star pres. Mach 2 was a little flustered that somebody would dare make a grounded version of his shockwave finisher. He crawled on top of Kaus and dreamt of holding the tag titles.
1...
2...
And it was close, but no cigar! He kicked out of the move and shoved Mr. Power off of him. Mr. Power waited for him to get back up. While Kaus was trying to get back up, Mr. Power went running off the ropes, but Aleczander tripped him up in the corner and made him hit the ground with a splat. Kaus took advantage when he picked up and dropped him across the knee with a gutbuster. Mr. Power was held in place and he got dropped across the body with a big DDT. And it was time for Kaus to try and finish this now.
1...
2...
And so close!
Kaus was just one second away from being able to keep the Night Life with the tag team titles, but it was Mr. Trip to the rescue. Kaus grumbled underneath his breath, but the silent killer continued beating on him with elbows to his face. He ran off the ropes, but now Mach 2 tagged himself in and leaped over the ropes to do some damage to the downed Mr. Trip. Kaus tried to attack Mach, but he was held back by the referee and was sent back to the corner.
With Mach 2 back in the saddle again like this was Aerosmith, he got the audience going as he picked him up by the body and executed a quick snap suplex on Mr. Power. He rolled through and headed back to his feet with Power in his clutches and tagged in Big E. Stark. A second suplex followed and he lifted him up for a third. He hoisted Mr. Power up and was held over the shoulder of Big E. Stark, who paraded around with the smaller man on his shoulders until he dropped him hard with a canadian backbreaker. Stark flexed his arms and blew a kiss over to the corner of the Night Life before hooking the far leg.
1...
2...
Mr. Trip made the interception right after the ref's hand hit the mat a second time. Trip walked back to his corner while Big E. Stark smiled. He grabbed Mr. Power by the legs and back to the corner before tagging back to Mach 2. He held Power in a catapault position and snapped him back into the grip of Mach 2 who jumped and caught him in the side of the face with a kick. He fell backwards onto Stark's knees and Mach 2 waved a finger in the air before crashing down with a slingshot corkscrew splash...
THE DREAM SEQUENCE~!
The spectacular offense of the big man/little man tandem was great as Mach 2 hooked the leg over and he made for the cover. The Supersonic Kid went to clinch the ACW Tag Team Titles for the first time.
1...
2...
Saved by Mr. Trip again! All three teams appeared to be evenly matched now, but they were close to finishing this. The two men went over to the corner, but Aleczander bumrushed the ring and clobbered Mach 2 from behind with a big forearm shot. Aleczander turned him around and dragged Mr. Power over to his corner and left the ring... then tagged in.
Well, one way to get the job done.
The Amazing Ace of the Night Life was in the ring now and beat down on Mach 2 with several hard forearm shots to the back of the head. He picked him up and merely dumped him onto the ground with a big and hard (tee hee) body slam. Mach 2 was writhing in pain but Aleczander didn't relent his attack as he picked him up a second time and dumped him into the mat with a second one. Not done yet, he held up a finger to the crowd to tell them he had one more in him. He pulled Mach 2 off the mat and held his limp body in his arms before parading him around. He drove a knee into his back before throwing him backwards with a fall away slam.
Instead of going for a cover right after the big series of basic and effective power moves, Aleczander flexed his pecs and made his pecs jiggle. Some members of the crowd laughed, but most booed. But some girls and a couple guys fawned over his amazing physique before he drove another big sledgehammer-like blow to the back of Mach 2. He turned him over and dropped him with one more big kitchen sink knee lift. Mach 2 tumbled over and Aleczander made the tag over to Kaus.
Aleczander ran across the ring and nailed Big E. Stark with a cheap shot, which got the crowd all over the Night Life members.
“WE GOT HIM!” Fever Pitch screamed.
“LET'S SACRIFICE HIM TO OUR GOOOOOOOOOOODDSSSSSSSS!” Zip Zap also shouted, which got him some more funny looks from his stablemates. Then he went back to his bottle of cough syrup.
Kaus went to the beatings as he jumped up and dropped a stomp to the face. He picked him up again and it was back to Aleczander getting the other tag. They kept Mach 2 on their side of the ring, showing off their expert skills in tag team wrestling. They continued to beat down on them and wailed on Mach 2 with some right hands before the two men lifted him up in a double suplex, only to throw him down forward into an inverted slam. Mach 2 stood up and held his chest in pain, but Kaus ran off the ropes and caught him under the jaw with a stiff boot.
Aleczander was back in action and slapped in a rear chin lock, the preferred submission out of 99 of 100 sports entertainment-based wrestlers... er, sports entertainers. The Last Star Standing stood over Mach 2 and used his big biceps to pull back further in the submission trying to get him to tap out. Mach 2 wasn't giving in, though, and he continued to fight against his attacker.
The referee asked him if he was going to give up, but Mach 2 shook his head. The fans were continuing to get a “Mach 2” chant going for the long-time ACW wrestler and high flyer. He stomped his feet into the ground again and tried his best to get out of the big man's grip.
“BIG E. SMALLS! BIG E. SMALLS! BIG E. SMALLS! BIG E. SMALLS!”
The Australians were out in full force as Mach 2 fought to get his way back up to his feet. He stomped his feet as he fought back upwards, but Aleczander pulled him back up and locked him in a bearhug now. He tried squeezing the life out of the Supersonic Kid.
More chanting from the crowd and more energy being lent to Mach 2 as now Big E. Stark waiting for the tag and Lettie Rios cheering on her boyfriend.
“Gonna break ya in half, ya little shit... OW!”
Mach 2 did what any good man would do and actually bit Aleczander's nose. He boxed his ears a couple of times before throwing some hard forearms to finally free himself. He got loose and ran off the ropes, but Aleczander stopped him dead in his tracks with a big shoulder block that turned the youngster inside out. The crowd “ooohed” the shot while The Amazing Ace stood over him, celebrating. Kaus motioned for Aleczander to finish the match, but he was in his own little world right now. After dropping a big elbow across Mach 2's body he went for a quick pin...
1...
2...
And he was saved by both members of PowerTrip at the last moment. Aleczander turned and confronted both of the masked men, who both yelled back against the big man. He turned around and went back to work on Mach 2 by stomping on him several times. After depositing him in the middle of the ring with another big side slam, he climbed to the second rope and raised a big fist in the air. He kissed his bicep before going for the flying elbow off the second rope...
AND HE HIT NOTHING BUT MAT!
Aleczander was down and out, holding his elbow in pain as he rolled around. Mach 2 had moved at the last moment and saved himself from getting crushed by the big man. He rolled over to the corner while Aleczander headed over and tagged in Kaus. Kaus scrambled to try and keep him from getting to his corner but when he picked him up by the head he got cracked in the mouth...
AFTER BURN~!
The move came almost out of nowhere and Kaus never saw the high jumping knee strike coming as he got cracked in the jaw and hit the ground with a thud. The Supersonic Kid was down and out and didn't follow up with the cover as he was beaten down pretty badly. He rolled over and tried to get over to Kaus as the other members of the PowerTrip were frantically trying to egg on either man so they could steal the tag. Mach 2 reached for the outstretched hand...
But got cut off by Aleczander.
Aleczander tagged in Kaus and made his way to the ring to keep Mach 2 from being able to get further. Mach 2 got pulled away from his corner and Aleczander pulled him back to his feet before whipping him across the ring. He tossed him to the ropes, but missed an attempt at a big boot...
Tagged in to Big E. Stark!
And Aleczander couldn't save himself from Big E. Stark went for the slingshot and hit a big shoulder block to tackle Aleczander to the ground. The fans went crazy for the Yonkers Bomber as he charged forward and hit a big clothesline that knocked down Aleczander. He turned his attention over to The Diamond Child and tossed him into the corner before following him inside with a corner body avalanche that crushed him flat.
Kaus walked right into the grip of Big E. who kicked him in the chest and doubled him over before picking him and dropping him with a big bulldog. He turned once more back to Aleczander and whipped him into the ropes and waited for him to come back around as he dropped him with a Samoan drop.
The big man was a house of fire as he picked up Kaus by the head and buried a foot into his gut. He set up silent assassin and hoisted him high into the air before bringing him back down to the ground with a ring-shaking uranage suplex.
He was a house of fire right now as the fans started to go crazy for Big E. Stark. But he got stopped by a pair of smaller men in PowerTrip. They doubled him over with kicks to the chest before throwing him off to the ropes, but he came back and ran both masked men down with a flying shoulder block.
Back to his feet and he tossed Mr. Trip over to the corner. He charged at Mr. Trip but he threw a back elbow that stunned him. He climbed to the second rope and jumped right at Big E. Stark... but he got caught in mid air and nearly spiked him to China with a big powerbomb.
Mr. Power came on running though and kicked Stark in the gut before running up the ropes and flying backwards, driving him down to the mat with a shiranui. Stunned for the moment now, Mr. Power was back to his feet once again...
BIG BROTHER BOMB~!
But Aleczander was back up and he got drilled into the mat with the big chokeslam/spinebuster combination. Aleczander stood tall in the center of the ring, but didn't see Mach 2 coming to life as he jumped onto the ropes and caught the Last Star Standing by the head and hit a flying tornado DDT.
Kaus came back into the ring and caught Mach 2 in the back of the head with a big forearm shot. The other members of the Night Life were watching on with interest on the outside of the ring, cheering on Kaus as he whipped him off the ropes.... Kaus missed... MACH 2 TOPE CON HILO TO THE NIGHT LIFE~!
And on the outside, Mach 2 sailed clearly over the ropes and landed right on all the membes of the Night Life! Zip Zap, Fever Pitch, and Elixr were all taken out of the equation as Big E. Stark stood back up to his feet with he and Kaus as the legal men. Kaus saw his opportunity and went swinging with a big kick, but Big E. Stark ducked. Kaus came back and he was caught in a fireman's carry...
THE #1 STUNNA~!
He was down and out near the ropes as Mach 2 sprang back to his feet and got tagged in by Mach 2. He climbed to the ropes and stood on top of the turnbuckle. He pointed towards the heavens and glanced over at Lettie Rios, who was cheering her on...
SHOCKWAVE~!
And the corkscrew shooting star press connected perfectly and captivated the crowd, who were standing on their feet now with jubiliation as he hit the move. Mach 2 pulled back the legs of Kaus as the crowd counted along. Big E. Stark looked around and made sure nobody could break up the fall.
1...
2...
3~!
They did it.
THEY DID IT!
The crowd FUCKING EXPLODED when Lettie Rios joined both Mach 2 and Stark in the ring!
“YOUR WINNERS OF THE MATCH... AND THE NEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! ACW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS... THE TEAM OF MACH 2 AND BIG E. STARK... BIGGGGGGGG.... EEEEEEEE............. SMALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLSSSSSSSSSSSS!”
Mach 2 had served time in ACW for several years now... and this... and with his tag team partner, Big E. Stark, had just won the ACW Tag Team Championships from the dominant Night Life crew. The PowerTrip were both furious as they headed back up the ramp, watching the titles that should've been theres. They hadn't been involved in the decision.
But the night – and at least the ACW Tag Team Titles – they now belonged to Mach 2 and Big E. Stark! Mach 2 and Lettie shared a passionate embrace. Somebody was probably getting laid tonight.
Meanwhile, the Night Life were tucking their tails and heading back up the ramp as well, Kaus and Aleczander arguing with one another other the loss of the titles that they'd held all these months. And now the titles belonged to the long-time ACW fan favorites!
Tonight... Stark and Mach 2 had arrived!
WINNER: Big E. Smalls via pinfall (NEW ACW Tag Team Champions)
UPDATE
THE FOLLOWING ANNOUNCEMENT HAS BEEN PAID FOR BY KENJIRO ITO. IT MAY OR MAY NOT REFLECT THE OPINIONS OF ALL STAR CHAMPIONSHIP WRESTLING OR ITS EMPLOYEES.
The camera opens up, from that disclaimer, to a close-up of the bandage covered face of one Kenjiro Ito. The bandages practically obscure his entire face, with holes for mouth, nose, and eyes.
“Forgive me for looking like a fuckin’ mummy,” Ito began, “but damned if I’m gonna let everyone see the scars and stitches before I heal. You know what they say, scars and stitches mean you get no bitches.”
Well, at least getting the shit kicked out of him by KSZ hadn’t changed the Bringer of the Ice Age TOO much.
“You know,” the elder Ito began, “there’s a lot of people out there who probably don’t have a lot of sympathy for me. They might say that what Keith Scott Zimmerman did to me couldn’t have happened to a nicer person, and you know what? Those people are absolutely fuckin’ right.”
Kenjiro’s awfully dyed blonde hair stuck out over the bandages, and his eyes burned a hole into the camera as he spoke.
“For those of you who’ve only seen me in ACW…I’m Kenjiro Ito. The Bad Will Ambassador. The Cocky Osakan. One bad son of a bitch who doesn’t give two shits about ANYTHING. The man whose life motto is ‘fuck bitches, get money.’”
The smile on Ito’s face indicates it’s a life he enjoys. A lot.
“For once in my life, though…I didn’t come to ACW for myself. I came here for my kid. My son, Keiichi. I came here because I wanted to help guide him to the top, because he’s got the talent to do it. Just needs the guidance, the killer instinct…and a little bit of the ol’ Ito charm. Now? I can’t do that, because the docs tell me that I’m gonna be on the shelf for a few more weeks cause of a certain fuck by the name of Keith Scott Zimmerman.”
Kenjiro shakes his head at the name. Whether he’s more pissed he didn’t take the black Scorpion home with him or that Keith hurt him? Your guess.
“Keithy-boy…you’ve got your hands full right now, I see, what with Hank Wright and Orphan. Maybe one of them will put you out of your misery. HOPE one of them puts you out of your misery. Because if you’re still roaming around when the doctors give me the all clear, Keith…you really, REALLY do not know what you’ve done. You should have ended me like that Indian faggot. But you didn’t. You just slashed me up. Some superficial damage. I’d say it’d hurt my chances with the ladies, but let’s face it, I only ever fuck hookers or rats these days anyway…”
The grin that follows isn’t pleasant. Not by a longshot.
“I don’t care about much in this world but myself, Keith. Keiichi changed that. He’s my entire world, the one person besides myself I genuinely give a shit about. And now, I’ve got to watch him from the sidelines because of you. Proud papa Ito’s gonna have to call his kid and not be there to watch it. The Ito Dynasty is on hold. Keiichi, if you’re listening to this? Go kick some ass and bone some bitches while Dad’s on the sidelines. I’ll be back as soon as I can. One day soon you and I will be tag team champions of the entire fuckin’ universe.”
And then?
“Until then, ACW? Have fun without me. And Keith? Watch your back. I’ve got a habit of showing up when I’m least wanted…”
THE PRECEDING ANNOUNCEMENT WAS PAID FOR BY KENJIRO ITO.
The Tank and The Runaway Train
Robbie Gates, ACW’s serious interviewer as opposed to Olivia McMullen, was standing backstage with a man who was about to enter an extremely serious situation – Hank Wright.
“Hank, you and Keith Scott Zimmerman stand at opposite sides of the spectrum on so many levels ahead of your Black Scorpion Championship match. How would you assess Keith’s behaviour throughout our shows in Australia?”
Wright let out a sigh, hands on hips, as he received a shower of cheers upon appearing on screen: “Keith, the reason I’ve tried to help you is I feel your pain. I’ve been where you are right now; unsure of who I am, unsure of where to go and a runaway train who’s a danger to anyone and everyone in its path.
“The biggest danger to the runaway train is the train itself. It’s in danger of crashing, derailing and self-destructing, which is what you’re doing in front of the world. All I did was point it out to you and what did you do? You pointed a tazer at my chest and sent thousands of volts through my body.
“And for what? Because I dared to save a man’s career? An innocent man’s livelihood? Someone who’s never done anything to you or your wife, Allison.
“Allison. She’s the key here but don’t blame her. Don’t you dare, Keith. I’m sorry for what happened to her, I really am, but why should I be? You don’t feel sorry for anything you’ve done. Do you feel sorry for the careers you’ve ended or try to end? Your hands are just as dirty as Keller’s. Yeah, you’re just like him,” Hank spouted venomously.
The camera focused on Wright’s ageing and angry face: “You decided to tell the internet if certain kept mentioning your name, you’d shut their mouths. Okay, KEITH, KEITH, KEITH, KEITH, KEITH, CAN YOU HEAR ME KEITH?”
Hank was getting himself pumped up as Gates looked on, not having to do anything to earn his corn: “Where was I when Keller assaulted Allison? Not here, but even if I was, I’m not your baby-sitter, Keith. She’s your wife, you should’ve taken care of her. If she was my wife…
“But she isn’t my wife. She’s yours. She’s your responsibility and you didn’t protect her from Keller. You failed. You screwed up, Keith. So, I don’t blame you for lashing out, she’s the love of your life, she was innocent, I get it. That’s why I feel sorry. For her, not you.
“Why was she in a wrestling ring anyway? She was there to SUPPORT YOU and what did you do? You allowed Keller to get his mitts on her, to maim her, to destroy her and now you’re doing exactly the same to guys who aren’t fit enough to lace your boots. Allison didn’t deserve it but neither do those guys and deep down, you know that, Keith.”
Gates was about to interrupt but Hank held his index finger up: “Robbie, let me finish. I’m not a do-gooder. I ain’t a guardian angel. I’m not a teacher, a counsellor, a samariatan. What I am is a wrestler. This started because I stuck my nose in someone else’s business, not to interfere, but to stand up for what I believe in. When I was young, I was an asshole and hurt people for fun, which I regret. I was trying to save Zimmerman from himself. What he’s doing now is like going on the booze: It’s a temporary break from reality, but it’s not a real remedy for the problem. He’s hurting people because he’s hurting inside.
“He’s not helping Allison. He’s not helping himself but tonight, I’m going to help him by dishing out a beating. Keith, you may intimidate most men in this playground, but as a fellow bully, you simply ain’t gonna push me around. I won’t stand back and let you end others’ careers to make you feel good about yourself because you won’t and don’t. I refuse to lose or be pushed around by a punk like you.
“Twenty years on from when I should’ve been a World Champion, I’m going to beat an ex-World Champion for my first piece of gold in ACW. It’s been a long time coming.
“And so has this ass-whipping, Keith,” Hank stated confidently, cracking his knuckles as he prepared for a ferocious battle with KSZ.
A Different Train Of Thought
Robbie Gates turned his attention to the camera, smiling confidently with a strong shake of the head.
"Well, you guys heard it straight from the Tank himself--Hank Wright is ready for Keith Scott Zimmerman and his shot at the (black) Scoprion title shot ton--"
The harsh crackle of static was heard, and Robbie looked around in confusion. He didn't have to look far, however, because the source was coming from the television behind him. The static, starting off black and white, slowly morphed into a shade of purple, then was cut by a K sharpened like a lnife at the bottom.
Blackness.
Then a horribly familiar voice.
Or sound, rather.
sniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiffffffffffffffff cough
"...guys, is this coming through?" would be the last thing Robbie got out before the following happened:
here's to the crazy ones., said the voice.
The screen suddenly surged to life with a slow pan of the (black) Scorpion Championships.
The misfits.
Omega stomping down to ringside, the Scorpion championship hanging loosely from his arm.
The rebels.
The seductive smile of Fejona Min, as she holds BOTH titles.
The troublemakers.
Tyson XL with the straps.
The square pegs in the round holes.
For a brief second, Khristian Keller.
The ones who see things differently.
And then, Keller flying through a glass window at Legends V.
They're not fond of rules.
A kick to his crotch.
And they have no respect for the status quo.
A little something called the Best Brainbuster in the Business
onto the concrete.
You can quote them
"every GOOD artist...paints what he is." All that's seen is the predatory bared teeth of a wild animal, delivered from a car's rooftop.
disagree with them
killjoy off said car.
glorify or villify them..
killjoy off the rampway. A crowd booing as Lutawicka is put into a neck brace, one man staring up at the ACWTron.
about the only thing you can't do is ignore me.
Zimmerman -- because who else could this be -- drilling Dude In Mask with a post-victory backdrop driver.
because I'M changing things.
Hank Wright going down in a heap thanks to a cattle prod.
I'LL push Orphan forward.
A shot of the man competing for the Spirit tonight looking a lot less like a red-faced destroyer of worlds and more like a concerned young man looking afraid with a cute blonde woman in his grasp at ringside.
and while some may see me as a crazy
The following persons are seen and heard saying crazy: Hank Wright, Orphan, Renaud Cardinal, Tony Miller, random fan at ringside, Rex Silver.
one, i am a genius.
Keith Scott Zimmerman, smiling as his face turns blue from Hank Wright choking him.
because the man crazy enough to think he can burn ACW'S world?
And suddenly, the face of Keith Scott Zimmerman live, staring placidly at the screen, titles around his neck already was on the video wall.
"Is the one who will."
He paused, licked his lips, and said one last thing with a malevolent glare that threatened to burn the building down.
"choo.
choo."
His right arm came up by his face and pulled an imaginary cord twice. Then a MILESwide smile.
And just like that, his face was gone and the screen was back to the Revival logo. Robbie Gates stared at it. A lot of people did, judging by the boos.
Renaud Cardinal murmured one word, so low it almost didn't get picked up by the microphone.
"Jesus."
He cleared his throat. "Sorry about that...interruption, ladies and gentlemen..."
[BLACK] SCORPION CHAMPIONSHIP Hank Wright v. Keith Scott Zimmerman (c)
The two battle-hardened warriors in the forthcoming (Black) Scorpion championship encounter have undergone massive revivals in the run-up to this event of the same name, following momentous and memorable victories for the pair of them at All-Star Championship Wrestling’s showcase: Legends V.
Let’s start with Keith: Following Khristain Keller’s disgusting dissection of his wife, Allison, leading to the hapless woman’s second serious bout of neck surgery in as many years, probably ending her ACW career, something has snapped. In Keith I mean, not only his wife’s neck.
He turned up to Episode 1 wearing a three-piece suit, dressed for the opera (minus a date due to the despicable K2) and knocked nine types of nitrogenous waste out of Lutawicka, probably putting an end to that poor bastard’s livelihood.
Then, he tried to maim Dude In Mask, which is when tonight’s opposition stepped in and said enough was enough. Needless to say, Zimmerman disagreed and electrified Wright – literally – sending shockwaves through the 278-pound powerhouse’s body and, subsequently, the spectators.
Zimmerman’s deadly trail of destruction has struck fear into men far bigger than him and also caused the returning Seymour Almasy, reborn and now known as Orphan, to take precautionary measures akin to the four-minute warning to protect the four lovers in his life if/when Keith comes calling.
Nothing and no one is safe from Keith.
Yet, a badass from Texas has dared to stand up to Keith; taking objection to the incredible carnage caused the former fWo and ACW Champion.
Wright by name; a wrecking ball by nature.
Hank returned to ACW after a 20-year in Mexico, a place where he’d terrorised the natives with stunts not too dissimilar to the present incumbent of the (Black) Scorpion throne.
The Hurricane avoided a hostile reception upon his re-entry south of the border with an unexpected admission how he actually preferred working in Mexico to the USA. A bit like ACW these days, don’t you think?
Moving this along…
Since Hank rescued Dude’s career, it ended up leading to a futile attempt to save Keith from himself as the two men exchanged an in-ring debate that led to them getting a lot off of their chests. In the midst of the exchange explaining his (sudden?) change of heart, Keith went too far and mentioned how something unfortunate might happen to Charlie in the future and Wright, much to Keith’s amusement, wrung his neck.
Some fear that if The Tank cannot stop The Runaway Train, ACW may have a serious epidemic on its hands.
Let’s find who will be derailed…
Going Out West.
The Acer Arena in Sydney came alive as Hank stormed out to a rapturous reception, one he uncharacteristically didn’t acknowledge underneath his red cowboy hat, strutting to the squared circle with such purpose and poise that he made Wolverine of the X-Men look like a fucking pussy.
He elected to step over the top-rope, perhaps an illustration of his awesome size and a warning to KSZ. Once he reached the middle of the ring, he hoyed his hat out to the crowd, punched his beating chest and waved to them, finally returning their affection for him. Freed from the shadier aspects of his history now it was a two-way street.
Wright ran the ropes, showing off the uncanny pace he has for a man of considerable proportions and maturity, stopping in mid-flow and calling for the music to stop. Wright was ready to fight.
Fittingly, the last line that rang out was: “I ain’t no extra baby, I’m a leading man.”
We were about to discover if that was true…
The trademark broken, almost ephemeral guitar echoed around the Acer Arena for around 15 seconds as a light scratched the needle on record in rhythm.
A woman, concerned: Do you ever have bad dreams? A boy, resigned: All I have is bad dreams.
Then the ACWTron showed why Keith’s deteriorated into this monster, for everybody just out of their comas: Allison’s horrific victimization, which never gets any easier to witness. It was a constant reminder to everyone of the causation of the shift inside of her husband so sickening it could almost justify his rebirth, which shortly followed, maiming his victims with no remorse.
I knew a man with a son, he bought him a gun And learned Shorty just how to use it Taught him huntin' & skinnin' right from the beginning And built himself a mighty fine killer But Shorty got picked on, beat on and kicked on And all his classmates want to punk him...
Keith Scott Zimmerman was in the building and he was ALSO coming to fight.
Zimmerman’s attire these days was unpredictable. Tonight, he’d plumped for blood-spattered steel-toed work boots, which fit the codes of the Scorpion division to a T, fucked-up blue jeans to complement them and a shirt with a picture of Journey’s Greatest Hits’ album cover as well. And, above all, most tellingly…
A white hoodie with the words ‘CHOOSE HATE’ emblazoned across it.
Well, I say most tellingly…
What the fuck’s that in his hand?!
A FLAMING SINGAPORE CANE!
I know Singapore’s not too far from Australia, but this is fucking ridiculous!
(And not for nothing, but you can see the hate-filled glares from four certain woman from the rafters. To say nothing of the man seething in the back seeing the familiar object d'torture.)
Keith resembled a druid at an Undertaker entrance before doffing his hoodie as he entered the ring and ignored the official, handing it to Hank, who was totally thrown off by Zimmerman’s behaviour: “What the fuck are you doin’? What am I supposed to do with that?”
Zimmerman repeated the gesture, urging Wright to pry it from his lethal hands, which Hank did, holding it up in the air. Keith appeared unfazed. Not that he had to be, given that The Hurricane was about to toss it over the top rope, turning his back on the champion…
Never turn your back.
Wright dropped the cane onto the ringside floor, causing the first few rows to stand up and move back. Some ACW techs immediately stepped in to extinguish the fire, a distraction from what was going on inside the four ropes, which saw KSZ have Hank backed up in the corner, wailing away at his massive chest with tremendous chops. KSZ reached seven, when Hank stuck out his left paw to clutch Keith’s throat, but Zimmeman’s superior speed and quick-thinking allowed for that. KSZ maintained his early advantage, extending an thumb and earning a reprieve from the referee that only fell on deaf ears anyway especially given what was on the line.
Another four chops breached The Tank’s defenses, turning his chest the colour of his tights. Nevertheless, they also woke him up and Keith may’ve pretended to have been Beethoven when the ref reprimanded him moments ago, but he heard it when 21,000 Aussies erupted and most certainly felt it when Hank lifted him up by his throat in a chokebomb position…
Only for Keith to return to the well by raking the eyes again.
And again - by way of the ropes - Keith forced Hank to walk over to the adjacent corner in a bid to regain his eyesight momentarily.
KSZ stalked Hank there, nipping away at his right hamstring and calf, which was more like a cow, with well-timed and well-aimed boots. He then placed Hank’s leg over the second rope, stretching it and pressing it against the rope, squeezing for everything it was worth on the Fort Worth native. A couple of stomps, which found their mark, and noshing on Hank’s nose didn’t silence The Hurricane, it made him cry out in pain, but it kept the crowd quiet who were used to seeing Keith’s newly-discovered aggressive streak horribly infused into him via Khristain Keller.
Even so, they were possibly shocked he’d been able to keep his 6’6" opponent at bay so well in the opening minutes of this contest.
Slamming Wright's head into the turnbuckle, Zimmerman displayed a rare streak of his remaining humanity and removed Hank's ring jacket for him. Thank goodness, even at a--oh, hell, Keith's just using it to choke him out. You know, Hank was kind enough to remove that flaming cane from the ring.
Of course, those expecting that level of mercy out of Zimmerman's arsenal at this point...sheesh.
It eventually came off as Zimmerman forced The Tank to do a 360, a twirl if you like via the constant choking, though it was hardly romantic. I certainly hope Keith didn’t use this tactic to woo Allison.
Speaking of WOO…
The audience, despite their disdain for The Only Wrestler That Matters these days, were making that sound as KSZ unleashed another couple of painful knife-edges. Having his way with Hank, Zimmerman tried an Irish Whip but like a stubborn thoroughbred, Wright stood his ground. Zimmerman called for ‘Take 2’ but his reluctant co-star wasn’t ready. So, the man who used to run the Digital Mafia mounted Hank, peppering him with rapid-fire rights as the crowd counted along…
They stopped at six as Wright fended off the former fWo World Champion and reigning ACW (Black) Scorpion titleholder off with a shove to the mat.
Quicker than a cat, Keith was up on his feet again and back on the ropes for round 2, raining in rights, firing them off as fast as his fist could deliver. Even in the face of this, Hank managed to absorb eight blows before shoving him down with another forceful push.
But Keith was still snarling, waiting to unload; it appeared he was hoping for a case of ‘third time lucky…’
..of course, the devil's greatest trick was convincing the world that he didn't exist.
Instead, he returned with interest, landing flush on the Texas Juggernaut’s jaw with a fabulous forearm smash that visibly wobbled the 278-pound stud. Now then, Keith seemed to be thinking, let's give this Irish whip deal another shot.
Zimmerman managed to move the rigid racehorse this time, though not far. It wouldn’t be Wright jumping over hurdles at the Grand National, it would be the jockey…
UPSIDE DOWN AND INSIDE OUT!
Wright’s reversal was lathered with velocity and impact, sending his rival into the opposite turnbuckle at a speed that would cause most cameras to flash if you were to replicate it on a highway.
KSZ was on the apron, nursing his back, upon being tossed up into the air and to the outside…
THWACK!
That was the sound of Hank delivering his own forearm smash, which not only took KSZ by surprise but stunned him as he launched the lightweight from the apron to the security barrier. That proved to provide security in name only for Zimmerman as he landed on the fucking thing throat-first, and in two fell swoops The Tank had mowed his opponent down and changed the complexion of the contest entirely.
The Governor’s power (physically I mean) was awesome and the crowd lit up in both instances, collectively gasping as they saw the damages Keith had taken at Hank’s hands. Meanwhile, the champion lay on the arena floor in quite a lot of discomfort favouring his esophagus.
In spite of the spectators’ appreciation, Hank didn’t stick around to seek adulation from the ACW faithful here in Australia’s most famous city. He was on a Rampage Jackson, stepping out between the ropes to join the multiple-time World Champion on the outside.
Wright did well to ignore pats on the back from the fans in Row A. He’d only just revved up the engine and to see off KSZ, a proven performer of the highest magnitude, he’d have to hit him not only with the kitchen sink, but everything in the cupboards, fridge and bathroom as well. Keith’s stubbornness defied his slight 211-pound frame, and he seemed to have a supernatural gift to thrive on situations like the one he found himself in here at Revival.
Did I say situations he found himself in?
Admittedly, he didn’t thrive on this one…
The Tank lifted the titleholder into the air in a gorilla-press, bench-pressing the Berkeley-born legend like he was a bag of sugar. Every time Hank raised the human bar, the decibel level inside the Acer Arena rose accordingly. What a coincidence, eh?
It went up again…
When Keith went up and over the top rope back into the ring!
KSZ connected with the canvas sternum-face, literally bouncing off the ground, and clutched his ribcage as his work boots smacked the canvas a couple of times, underscoring the impact Hank’s act of bravado and raw power had on his inner being.
While the Aussies chanted ‘HOLY SHIT’ Renaud Cardinal covered with a ‘GOOD GRIEF’ to convey emotion to our online observers. Either expression fit Hank’s muscle-flexing exhibition with Keith as the dumbbell.
Wright ascended the steel steps methodically but stopped short of entering the battleground just yet, propping up the ropes. Hank was prepared to return the hard way…
Slingshot Splash!
Connected!
The ex-Wrestling 101 member felt the full brunt of Hank’s 278-pound frame and it wouldn’t have been a surprise if he’d had to pick his spare ribs up off the floor afterwards.
Ordinarily, The Tank would have tried a cover but remember we’re under Scorpion Fighting Rules and pinfalls don’t count. It’s also worth pointing out that the challenger has it more difficult as he must make the champion stay down for 20 seconds while Keith only has to incapacitate the strapping Texan for 15.
Right.
Only.
Hank scraped the out-of-control Californian off the canvas by his throat. The choke was on this time and he flung Zimmerman into the corner where the Fort Worth native’s comeback had started.
Some of you may not know Hank isn’t a bad chef in his spare time. To quote Dude in Mask, SAY WHAT?!
This is his favourite recipe.
A European Uppercut, a Machine Gun Chop x 2.
Left knee to the abdomen and stir with a right knee to the stomach.
Throw in two punches to the head and sprinkle with a pair of crushing kicks to the chest and garnish with a wicked Yakuza Kick.
Thanks for sampling A WRIGHT Beating.
Judging by Keith’s cough, he hadn’t digested it too easily. Still, it’s not for everyone. It has an acquired taste, shall we say. The Aussies happened to love it, applauding The Governor’s speciality.
They were lapping it up when Keith fell out of the corner, feeling the side-effects of his main course and ready to puke his ass up but apparently happy, judging by the silly grin etched on his boat race.
Still, here at ACW, we look after our employees. There was a shuttle service on hand, ready to take any sick athletes to receive treatment against food poisoning. It’s called the TSE.
It just so happens that it’s got blonde hair, blue eyes and talks with a distinctive southern accent…
And then Keith got to feel just a soupcon of what he'd been dishing out for the past couple of months.
THUD.
"WHOAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
BACKDROP DRIVER.
Ironically, this move had spoiled Keith’s bid to become the World Champion last February in Mexico at Dia De Los Muertos, when Z pinned him with it to retain the title at the end of a magnificent main event. To be fair, Keith had taken more abuse than Oliver Reed’s liver throughout the all-important match, which also left KSZ bald.
Hank stood up, neglecting to complete the pointless bridge to complement the big-time maneuver he prefers to utilise in the latter stages of a match.
Wright stood back, arms folded, well aware of Zimmerman’s inhumane powers of recovery, and knew his handiwork had taken its toll on the titleholder but was still surprised when the smiling (Black) Scorpion strap holder popped up at 17, which wouldn’t have been needed had the work boot been on the other foot.
The challenger had his suspicions.
THWACK!
"OOOOHHHH--BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
And then he had more than suspicions, he had a pair of bruised testicles as he was the victim of a vicious low blow, felling the redwood with one unclean shot. Best of all in Keith's addled brain? It was legal.
Zimmerman got to his feet. He cornered the Texan, who was still nursing his nuts but determined to ignore the pain. It’s a good job he’s already had Charlie and doesn’t want any more kids because Keith may’ve seen to it that he doesn’t.
Back in the corner…
Patented hard ambidextrous fists unhinged Hank. Thereafter, Keith administered some stiff European Uppercuts that were non-returnable.
It was time for Keith to prepare his own cocktail of hurt and punishment. Are you ready?
Every time he waylaid Hank with a knife-edge chop, he kicked The Governor squarely to the left thigh. Chop, kick, chop, kick bore rich and ripe fruit for the reigning and defending champion.
In short order, he had caught up to and then bypassed Hank leaving Wright out on his feet, though not for much longer as he continued the relentless onslaught, beating the big man down to the point where he was supported by the bottom rope, breathing heavily and at least for the time being effectively nullifying his breakneck offense and one of his signature moves, ‘Wrong Foot.’
More importantly, Keith was breaking his larger opponent down in an attempt to quash his vast vertical base and then shatter his dreams with calculated, targeted offense.
"He may be crazy, folks, but unfortunately for Hank he's damn good, too," allowed Cardinal on the broadcast.
Keith let Hank contemplate what he’d got himself into while he rolled out and strolled over to the timekeeper to claim his chair. He came back in, expecting to have his way with Wright, who stood up before Zimmerman got back to the corner on the far side, possibly playing possum himself.
The spectators in the stands rose to their feet as there was a stand-off. In the red corner, Hank Wright, who had his fists clenched in a knuckle-up stance, ready to behead the champion with his bare hands. In the blue corner, fighting out of Berkeley, Californian, Keith Scott Zimmerman, who had a steel chair for company.
That's when it happened.
Keith paused...and then handed the chair to Hank. He turned his back, and struck what Cornell enthusiasts knew as the Jesus Christ pose.
"c'mon, hypocrite. first one's free of charge. might come with free belt!"
Wright could almost see the evil grin on Zimmerman's face, and it set his path.
He refused.
Instead the Texan began to box his head off, stinging KSZ with two jabs to the head and forcing the former fWo and ACW kingpin back to the ropes, whipping him to the opposing set. Keith’s superior quickness came into play here, ducking underneath Hank’s lariat attempt, making him look sluggish and foolish…
CRACK!
What was that, you ask?
DAMN ZIMMINATOR!
It'd already been bad enough when Keith was juicing up a normal chairshot with a Roaring Elbow, but Zimmerman had managed to snatch up the steel chair, throw it at Hank and then drive it into his temple with a steef-as-f0ck running koppu kick. Judging by the bounce in his step and the boo! on the crowd's voice Keith was feeling it this evening,
And that left Leon Hurst with a job to do that he was currently working his way through. Somehow Evan Anders hadn't been able to officiate this one.
And the count breached 8.
Now 9.
10
11…Hank sat up, trying desperately to shake the cobwebs loose.
12… Those damn spiders were affecting Wright’s eyesight.
13… Up to one knee.
14…no need for 14. Hank, unfortunately for Keith, got up at 13. Not that Zimmerman seemed to feel unlucky. He smiled, nodding his head. After that, he took off in a flash, rebounding off the ropes that had served him well just moments ago when he’d removed half of Hank’s brain cells…
Hank, who was also tending to his left leg that had been the recipient of some strong boots and kicks, saw Keith coming towards him, The Runaway Train, and if he didn’t move, he’d be dead…
MURDERDEATH…
Incredibly, even at an awkward angle, Hank caught Keith’s legendary leg lariat that had yielded more scalps than Charles Worthington, showing immense strength to turn KSZ around and elevate him to a higher plateau…
Powerbomb!
And another!
With full steam ahead, The Hurricane wandered over to the same turnbuckle where he’d dished out A WRIGHT Beating to mangle Zimmerman’s equilibrium once again…
TURNBUCKLE BOMB!
Hank’s leg gave way after his tremendous effort to fling Keith as hard and far as possible, almost breaking the top turnbuckle, in the process. At first, Zimmerman winced, but some viewers could see a sickening smile envelop over his face as well.
The count was on as both men sat on the mat.
As Hank got up to one knee, his dodgy one, Keith exploited the window of opportunity…
BASEMENT DROPKICK FACEWASH!
Jesus, what contact. Keith deposited the big man towards the bottom rope with the sickening kick that smashed into The Tank’s temple.
Zimmerman kicked Hank four times, two each to the head and knee, causing the number one contender out to the apron but not to the floor.
Keith took control of Wright’s legs, which he’d done at different points in the encounter, and drove all of the air out of the experienced campaigner’s body via a wicked catapult underneath the bottom rope.
On Hank’s previous pay-per-view appearances, Booster and Jimmy Reid had adopted similar tactics, attacking the esophagus. Having rocked Wright high, KSZ went low as a follow and slapped on a figure-four, reaching up to hang on the top rope for leverage, while Wright was still prone on the apron. Everywhere ached, the aging bones were being sternly examined by arguably the best wrestler in the world, and as you all know, the figure-four affects no fewer than seven pressure points in the leg, which distracted the Texan enough to forget the fact he could barely breathe. Some diversion!
The official tried to intervene, but in truth, had no authority in this instance. Keith literally laughed off his instructions over and over again, using the rope for much-added leverage and Wright’s reaction, the big man reduced to squealing like a little girl, told us that it was having an unhealthy effect on his lower half.
A crazed Keith finally released the hold after nearly a minute, leaving the official to do his job. Hank turned onto his side around 12, like getting up in the morning after a rough night on the lash, and struggled to get to his feet. Again, when it looked like he was ready to go toe-to-toe with Zimmerman again the ex-Wrestling 101 member moved the goalposts and darted towards The Tank, who had the presence of mind to backbody drop Keith up and over…
He wasn’t the only one. Keith landed like a feline on the apron he’d just given Hank hell from and prepared to surprise The Governor with a springboard…
Springboard…SPINEBUSTER?!
The Australian audience roared as The Tank plucked the champion out of mid-air and mowed him down with an earth-moving spinebuster.
Tentatively, the Texan got up and glanced at the crowd, who gave him full backing after making The Runaway Train brake momentarily.
Could be bring it to a shuddering halt completely?
Count makes 8. That's good.
Nine's even better.
Now halfway through the count, Leon Hurst continued onwards. Zimmerman slapped away at the back of his head where he'd been deposited violently by the Tank.
Eleven. Twelve.
Zimmerman seemed to still be struggling upwards.
Thirteen.
He was almost up...
Fourteen.
And then back down! This might be just what the doctor ordered.
Fifteen.
Sixteen.
Hank's look was one of grim determination as Zimmerman scooted on his ass towards a corner, keeping him and Hurst in his eyeline.
SEVENTEEN.
EIGHTEEN.
Hank Wright was a mere two-count away from his first ACW gold; could it be?
No, Keith was up in the nick of time after grabbing the top ropes to propel himself upwards.
Bah.
Wright had his reservations whether Zimmerman was that hurt or buying time, like he’d done on Episode 4 against Kenjiro Ito. That time, he’d done a kip-up to burst the young Asian’s bubble. Here, he got up off the mat like removing your rectum from the couch to answer the door or get a glass of water from the fridge, that type of thing…
Until Hank’s outstretched hand grabbed him by the throat. A third choke extracted yet more cheer from the crowd as Wright brought KSZ down across his knee with an inverted atomic drop. Somehow, Keith still had a shark-like smile emblazoned across his kisser…
SHOTEI!
The force of the blow destroyed Zimmerman's jaw, and he fell into a sitting position on the mat. Hank looked down at him but then backed up per orders.
And Hurst's count hit 10 in short order.
Then 12.
Then 14.
Keith started to laugh and do sit-ups.
Fifteen.
Sixteen.
"you're going to need more than that, hero!" scoffed Zimmerman, successfully executing his 7th crunch to the crowd's displeasure.
Since he was so damned smart...
17…Hank decided to take him up on his advice and started to move to the opposite set of ropes behind Keith...
18…He ran back towards the direction KSZ was sitting....
19...Keith sat up, Calloway-style...
WRITE-OFF!
The toothy grin had been removed from Zimmerman’s maw from the umpteenth time tonight. The fans erupted. This was one of Hank’s finishers, and the maneuver they were most familiar with, his Sliding D variant. It was a move most men tried to avoid, the 278-pound beast showing, in spite of the work done to his left leg, he could still move well enough and attain enough momentum to put everything he had into maiming the nutty KSZ.
Hank limped to his feet as the official asked him to stand and wait in the corner. Wright watched on, hands on hips, as the referee began his count.
Given it’s a finisher and Keith’s tactics thus far, you know nothing’s going to happen before 14 so I won’t insult your intelligence anymore.
FIFTEEN…
SIXTEEN…
SEVENTEEN…
EIGHTEEEN…
NINETEEN…
Woozy, Keith did rise just in time to save his (Black) Scorpion strap from disappearing there and then. He appeared drunk, though in a happy mood, smiling as he stared at Hank, who’d moved towards the centre of the ring after the referee had reached 17. Wright just shook his head. It made him sick and it made him want to laugh all at the same time.
"You freak," said the Tank, and it was apparent from his tone that it was a borderline compliment. "How are you doing this?"
Zimmerman gave him a toothy grin as Hank latched onto him for what might be the last time.
"because, Hank..."
WHERE THE WEST BEGINS!DODGED!
And having successfully avoided the short-range Western Lariat, Keith flew into the ropes before coming off and throwing his whole body into Hank Wright's already damaged left leg. The face-to-face chop block sent Wright's whole body in a corkscrew before he landed in a heap on the mat. The Governor was gritting his teeth, and Zimmeman was showing all of his.
"...i remember the rules. especially the first one. can't forget. not now. not ever."
Zimmerman unsteadily got to his feet, but he wasn't on them long. He leapt up into the air and then drove them right into Hank's ankle. Wright screamed out an obscenity as Zimmerman's eyes sloped low before leaping and double-stomping the ankle a second time, then a third and a fourth. Hank grimaced and tried to pull away from Keith, who merely stared him down before dropping to a knee.
It wasn't a proposal.
Unless you count the act of Zimmerman's hands torquing Hank's ankle at something along the lines of an 80 degree angle a shotgun wedding. Wright let out a roar as Keith hooked on an anklelock. Hurst looked down at Hank as Zimmerman's eyes turned to slits, Wright using his wrists and fists to scramble along the mat to use his massive upper body strength.
HANK THE TANK!
HANK THE TANK!
HANK THE TANK!
Gritting his teeth, Wright leaned back into the hold. He only needed to do so temporarily; fighting off a fresh wave of pain he executed a forward roll that freed him and sent Keith flying between the top and middle ropes. The crowd ovated as Hank got free only to deflate as Zimmerman snatched up the top rope in his arms before turning his body back towards the inside of the ring and licking his lips from his safe haven on the apron.
Lips that had something to say, even if no sound was coming out.
"i've got my fist."
And meanwhile, Hurst was looming as Hank mightily struggled upwards on his good leg (the second PPV in a row KSZ had managed to deadleg a bigger opponent).
ELEVEN.
TWELVE.
THIRTEEN.
FOURTEEN.
FIF--NO! Hank and his spent left leg were still in the maTHWACK!
The crowd gasped in shock as Zimmerman flew from the apron, to the top rope, before throwing himself through the air and absolutely clouting Hank in the face with a vicious SPRINGBOARD URAKEN, the force knocking a now-loopy Wright flat on his ascot. Zimmerman scrambled to a position on his hands and knees, only to look back and see a dazed Hank entreating the air to come forward and bring it. A concerned Leon was looking on...and all Keith could do?
"hee heee heee hohohoho ahahahaha....ohhhh....i've got MY plan...."
And just like that, ACW's resident killjoy was up, running for the ropes behind Hank before running past him to the ropes in front of him. Hurst's count made it to 12, Wright looked like he was about toCRAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!
BASEMENTMURDERDEATHKEITH! Wright's head snapped back off the notorious leg lariat, but he was only listing over to one side of his body. Zimmerman clucked his tongue and then decided to run for the ropes in front of Hank again to finally put him awBASEMENT COMPLETE SHOT!
The snapping impact of the downstairs reverse STO should've put Hank away. But Keith contorted his body right after delivering the move, using his momentum to roll backwards before letting out a victorious cry.
Miller and Cardinal were in shock at the announce table.
The fans were so agog some of them forgot to take a picture.
And Leon Hurst stared on wide-eyed...
...as Keith Scott Zimmerman had rolled back and was sitting on the back of the Tank like the lead marshal in a Thanksgiving parade, having fully secured a
COBRA
CAMEL
CLUTCH.
Hank's eyes bulged as the fans -- well, some -- outright shrieked in dismay as Zimmerman went to deliver a coup de gras to Hank after his vicious trifecta of shots to the head of the Lone Star. His own meaty forearm was being used against him as a weapon to choke him out and drop him for the 15-count, and all the while Keith smiled at the audience.
As if they didn't hate him
As if they weren't YELLING HANK-THE-TANK! at this point.
As if...
Well, as if Hank wasn't struggling to get to his feet and fight him off. Air loss or not. Hank made it upwards on his right knee, leaning forward as the champion attempted to tighten the hold. His smile was a thing of the past. Hank knew what he had to do, and given how compromised his left leg was, he only had X amount of time to do it.
Fortunately for him, he had more than X left in him.
Seizing Zimmerman up on his back, Hank sprinted as fast as he could on one leg towards the nearest corner, sandwiching the Californian between his massive frame and the turnbuckles. Unfortunately for him, not only had the effort sapped him of his strength, but Keith had kept the hold on (though not as tightly as before). Wright's eyes were rolling in the back of his head for a multitude of reasons while Zimmerman sapped him of his strength and the effort to break free sapped him of air he hadn't been getting in the first place.
Wright cringed, steeled himself, then stumbled towards the center of the ring before taking some clumsy steps backwards and throwing himself back yet again. Zimmerman was squished again.
HANK THE TANK!
HANK THE TANK!
HANK THE TANK!
Squished, yes. Letting go? A little bit more, but not enough to break. He had Hank. He had him right where he wanted him.
At least he did before Hank ran 90 degrees to another neutral corner and sandwiched him a third time!
BOOM~!
And just like that, Zimmerman slumped down to the bottom rope and a groggy Hank crawled towards the middle of the ring. The crowd exulted as Wright had managed to get himself free.
Hurst looked over the slumped Zimmerman and the face-down Wright, and did the only thing that came to him.
Count.
Keith looked to be almost asleep in the corner.
Five.
It took him a surge of effort, but Hank began to crawl around the ring dead leg and all.
Ten.
Hank had to put all his weight towards his right leg, but he managed to crawl for the ropes.
TWELVE.
And while Hank was pulling himself up with the ropes?
THIRTEEN.
Zimmerman was again reaching his own sets of ropes, and a gleam sparkled in his eyes. No shard of glass? That'd be just fine by him.
Wright staggered back down on all fours, and Zimmerman leaned back in the corner before surging forward.
MERCILES JUD--FUCK YOU, PRESS SLAM SPINEBUSTER!
The standing room only audience yelled so loud it subsumed Hank's own as he not only dodged the punt attempt but turned into offense by quickly taking down Zimmerman to the canvas in a vulgar display of power.
Wright felt out his left leg with his hands while Zimmerman bounced violently off of the canvas and came to rest on his stomach after impact. Hank pulled on the top ropes to get himself towards a standing position while keeping an eye on Leon. If that'd been enough to keep Keith at bay...if...
FOURTEEN.
FIFTEEN.
But while Hank's eyes had been on Leon's lips, they should've been on Keith's right arm--the same appendage dipping into the work boot.
SIXTEEN.
SEVENTEEN.
And here came Keith Scott Zimmerman, disentangling his left arm from the bottom rope.
EIGHTEEN.
He still had time to beat the count.
NINETEEN.
He did.
Hank moved in.
And out came the taserkicked upwards! Eyes went skyward as Wright had nullified Keith's advFIREBALL TO THE FACE!
It'd happened that fast; one moment, Hank had freed Zimmerman's hands only to fall victim to the same and the crowd jeered lustily as Wright's own hands flew to his blinded face and he kicked and screamed and rolled around the mat. And Zimmerman cracked his kerosene-dipped knuckles and smiled.
He staggered backwards two steps before falling out of the ring between the middle and top ropes. Quickly, he lifted the ring apron. Now was the time. His right arm pulled out a steel chair to boos.
He glared at/through the audience, shook his head, and walked over to Hank before putting a work boot on his damaged ankle.
"KEITH!" yelled Wright. "You son of a bitch...you son of a bitch."
"my mother is a lovely woman," Keith intoned flatly. "hank hank hank hank hank hank hank. don't say I didn't warn you."
STAB. Right in the injured leg. Keith's lips started to part, Cheshire Cat-style.
STAB.
STAB.
STAB.
STAB.
Every time the steel connected, Hank yelped in pain. He wasn't the kind of man to do that, usually, but blinded and crippled, it suddenly became horrifyingly clear that if he he'd been anything on the tracks, it was Keith's intent to turn him into a couch. And the chair came up in a killing arc again.
This time? It was aimed square at the back of the Tank.
THWACK!
THWACK!
THWACK!
"i'm not just like Keller, Hank." grunted Keith.
THWACK!
THWACK!
THWACK!
THWACK!
"I'M WORSE."
THWACK!
THWACK!
THWACK!
Hank had stopped moving.
THWACK!
THWACK!
Keith cared.
THWACK!
THWACK!
THWACK!
Wild-eyed, Keith let the chair fall out of his grasp before landing at his feet. He looked up to the jeering multitude and laughed, before kicking the chair underneath Wright's head.
"you can't save me, hank. as you're about to find out, you can't even save yourself."
And with that, Zimmerman backed out of the ring and rolled out of it before lifting the ring apron one more time, smiling sadistically.
About the only thing worse than a steel chair is another one...
...
wrapped in barbed wire.
Zimmerman held it aloft and gazed at it reverently before reentering the ring, Hurst turning white with horror.
And he wasn't alone.
The Scorpion took the original chair, put it under Hank's face and then leaned over his right ear.
"CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW, HANK?!"
And then the barbed wire chair was in the air.
THUD.
"GOOD LORD!" screamed Renaud. As if He was here right now. As if the ring wasn't filled with the bringer of light.
As if the Tank hadn't just gotten dismantled with a BARBED WIRE CONCHAIRTO.
A MILESwide sick grin as an absolute river of blood laid out on the canvas, and Keith ripped away the barbed wire chair out of the back of Hank's head (!!!) and held it close, before turning his demonic grin to Hurst.
"do your job."
His fingers snapped as he pointed down at Wright before backing away.
Hurst looked back at Keith, horrified. He knew it was over. But he also knew Keith had a weird history of attacking referees who just ended the match.
No, Keith Scott Zimmerman wanted to hear a fair count. Throat trembling, Hurst made it as Zimmerman let the chair hang loosely from his side.
TEN.
He could see the EMTs coming.
ELEVEN.
He let the wadded-up soda cups and programs hit him.
TWELVE.
He looked at the blood gathering at his feet.
THIRTEEN.
And through it all...
FOURTEEN.
The grin never left his face.
FIFTEEN.
Think I'm gonna die today...
Everlast's "So Long" rang out over the PA as ACW backstage staff and the EMTs swarmed to the ring, while Keith extended his wrist towards Leon. With a look of unbridled horror on his face, Hurst raised Zimmerman's wrist as he held up the barbed wire steel chair overhead.
"belts."
Hurst quickly ran to Vale, got the belts and handed them to Keith before dropping to his knees and checking Hank. The force of the blow might've broken his nose. It had defninitely opened up the back of his head. Zimmerman looked over the tableau for a moment before snapping the belts in a circle and placing them around his neck, garbage continuing to fly.
It took 8 men to get Hank on his back to put him on the gurney, and a neck brace was quickly put on as Zimmerman left the ring backing up the aisleway. Everlast cut off as the EMTs conferred, Keith raising his arms in black triumph. He took a couple steps towards the ring--
--but then backed up into the darkness.
The coordinated effort got Hank on the stretcher, and the slow pan of the audience saw everyone standing. Some crying. A father hugging his son, who's face was buried into his side.
The EMTs stablized Hank, then moved their way to the back.
Right where they bumped into Keith Scott Zimmerman, who shoved the closest ones away from the top of the stretcher and placed the edge of the barbed wire steel chair lengthwise against Hank's neck.
He stared down at Hank, who's one open eye glared at Keith even from the position he was in.
"you say her name," hissed Zimmerman, "you get her living conditions. and you think about this on what ought to be your permanent staycation:
you were completely right about me.
and i destroyed you anyhow. SEE you later."
Zimmerman gave him a couple of condescending pats on the face, then walked back up the rampway to the biggest scorn any ACWer had received all night.
His back remained to the audience, and he looked up to the ACWTron where he watched a stretcher move to the side of the rampway towards the ambulance.
And his hands moved together in a slow, slow clap.
WINNER: Keith Scott Zimmerman by standing 15-count; retains [black] Scorpion Championship
We'll Break The Code
Olivia McMullen was playing with her hair, generally appearing disinterested in being a part of a tremendous Pay-Per-View presentation, as always from ACW, and like she wanted to be back on the other side of the world instead of here Down Under.
Suddenly, she stepped back, so relaxed she almost fell over and squealed when a heavily-breathing chest ensured she didn’t go arse-over-head.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH, she screamed.
Judging by the sight behind her, I think an accidental trip would’ve been better.
The terrifying toothless grin of Bull.
When she turned her head the other way, she got the contrasting all-teeth smile of the rather dashing Wolf, who was poised to nibble on her ear with his gnashers.
Behind her, the masked man…Serpiente.
There was only one man missing, or an animal should we say, but he appeared and took McMullen’s microphone away from her.
“Little girl, don’t fear us. For we’re not here to hurt you. We’ve got business to attend to and a special message for the Code of Honor…”
“Foundation,” Wolf whispered.
Isurus nodded: “Whatever. Code of Honor, code of silence. Everytime we’ve entered a building in Australia, you’ve gone out of the back door as we’ve searched and scoured the bowels of the arena, trying to locate yourselves but to no avail. We’ve searched high and low, east and west, north and south. You’ve been hard to track down and you’ve done well to avoid us but we’re predators, super-predators and we’ll roam the planet to find prey, which has led us here.”
At that moment, the group’s leader removed his sunglasses: “Foundation of Honor…founded upon what? Cowardice? No backbone? It’s easy to get the better of us when you attack from behind. An elderly woman could slay a powerful man if she were to approach him from the blindside and attack with a bat, would she not, Olivia?”
McMullen nodded nervously as Isurus patted her on the head and Wolf grinned, rubbing his nose against her delicate cheek, which made her shriek and him smile even more as a result.
“Now, we’re fair. I’m going to sit this one out and allow my men to get the result we desperately need to make a statement to All-Star Championship Wrestling. Davis, you and your faceless friends have avoided our trap for long enough. Our hunger is insatiable. We can’t wait any longer. We’re starving, aren’t we?”
His three disciples nodded their heads while Isurus shook his: “The Code…”
Wolf butted in: “The Foundation…”
Isurus put his glasses on Olivia, who was trembling with fear: “Will be broken.”
TAG TEAM MATCH - STANDARD RULES Foundation of Honor vs. Beasts of Prey
In recent weeks, both stables have gone off the radar. The Beasts entered ACW in emphatic fashion, destroying Hank Wright on Episode 1 and sending a message out to the entire promotion that they were here, in the aftermath of SilverHAWK’s death, to rid their new employers of the bottom-feeders that inhabit the murky waters of All-Star Championship Wrestling.
Their next attack, singling out Spike Saunders was akin to attacking an elephant on land or daring to ambush a whale. Unfortunately for BoP, Spike received support from the Foundation of Honor, who came to Spike’s side and fended off the attack of these unwelcome intruders.
FoH would also get the better of BoP before they were pulled apart on Episode 3. To add more needle, the group’s most famous star, Marcus Davis, debuted in impressive style, taking Serpiente apart.
In tonight’s impromptu interview, Isurus claimed the Foundation of Honor had been running from him and his colleagues.
Now, there was nowhere to run for either faction. This would be a fair fight, 3-on-3, with Isurus sitting this one out leaving Wolf, Bull and Serpiente to confront Marcus Davis, El Rey Futuro and Hijo De Angel.
‘Superpredators’ by Massive Attack.
The beating drum calmed the crowd’s chatter down and the speculation started at the announcers’ table when Wolf emerged first with Bull and Serpiente following behind. The co-general had taken the mantle of leader for tonight’s proceedings, which we knew beforehand, but it threw people off that the true numero uno, Isurus, wasn’t there in person.
Wolf smiled, when did he not, as he entered the squared circle and scaled the turnbuckles as Bull paced the ring, eager to maim someone, and Serpiente rolled in underneath the bottom rope.
"Finally..They Are Here.."
"Finally..It Has Come.."
"Honor...Is Now Among Us.."
*Silence*
The figures stand with their heads down, the silence is interrupted after five seconds by what could be best described as a bell chime.
*Ding*
"Arise!"
After the angelic female says her last statement the lights rise to a somewhat haze and an explosion of blue pyro encompassed the stage. An unknown instrumental that sounded awe-inspiring began playing as...
"The Dream" Marcus Davis
El Rey Futuro
Hijo De Angel
The crowd reacted warmly to the talented trio, who’d been able to keep The Beasts at bay. Marcus Davis, a reinvigorated figure these days, pointed to all sides of the Acer Arena, which was filled to its 21,000 capacity, and walked down the aisle with purpose, ready to see off BoP once and for all, when it really mattered.
Once they stepped through the ropes, it was on.
Wolf made a beeline for Marcus Davis, peppering his spine with three hard shots to the back. Fortunately, Hijo De Angel saw Bull coming and avoided the wild lariat attempt, taking the big man down with a dazzling hurricanrana and El Rey Futuro beat Serpiente to the punch, dropping his fellow mute with a textbook dropkick.
It was left up to Marcus Davis to clean house, his two sidekicks standing aside and showing fairness and confidence in their master, who finally got the upper hand blocking Wolf’s punches once they were upright, responding with pure forearms, rocking the Leader of The Pack with three beautiful shots and then sending the Michigan Wolverine packing with a flurry of rapid kicks to the chest and legs before rounding it off with a terrific extended spin kick!
The Australian audience applauded FoH’s efforts as the Beasts were all on the outside, reeling, physically and psychologically. Wolf shouted for Bull to come over and engage in a group huddle, probably pondering a tactical rethink.
Wolf scowled, interrupted by the crowd cheering as the Foundation stood on the top turnbuckles, Davis the nearest to them. Obviously, the fans’ appreciation didn’t help Wolf’s concentration as he was dishing out orders to his partners in crime.
The bell had already sounded by the time the meeting was over, leaving Davis wondering who he was officially going to kick things off with. He was probably hoping for Wolf. Instead…
He got Bull.
The largest competitor in the contest was grinning toothlessly from ear-to-ear. He epitomised the saying: “Million dollar body and ten cent face.” His brain wasn’t much more expensive. But, boy, he was put together like a brick shithouse. The artist formerly known as Willis came forward, Davis rushing around the ring to suss his opponent out. Suddenly, Bull cornered the ex-SPW superstar, though it was really the lighter man of the two who was in control, effortlessly avoiding the senseless lunge and making Bull pay for his foolishness, stinging him with a spinning back kick to the abdomen, a basement dropkick to the knee and before Bull knew where he was, Marcus had backed him up with a jumping heel kick to the jaw, thrilling the fans in attendance.
A normal man would’ve been down and out for a 10-count.
Bull was still on his feet though helped significantly by the ropes propping him up.
Davis brought Bull into the centre of the ring and rocked the powerhouse with a Russian Legsweep, getting a one-count for his troubles. Upon getting to his feet, Bull waved Davis off, like he couldn’t be bothered with him and tagged Wolf in, who at first appeared disappointed with the monster’s performance. The frown was turned upside down as he entered the ring. He pulled on the brakes before locking up with Davis again, asking to find out what Marcus’ mates had in their respective lockers.
Marcus pointed at them and Wolf nodded. Davis backed up, not taking his eyes off Wolf, tagging Hijo De Angel in.
The Ann Arbor native held his hands up for a game of mercy, which HDA was poised to go for, but the wily performer stuck a boot to the abdomen so negotiations didn’t even get off the ground and the 6’2 244-pound forced Hijo back into the corner, unloading with three knife-edge chops that could be heard back in Perth.
Wolf grabbed HDA by the chin, rocking his head back and forth as he talked smack to him. The sign of disrespect was rightfully punished when Wolf took his eye off the ball, showing off to his colleagues, especially Bull, telling him this was how you do it, and HDA turned him round and returned the favour by unleashing with three chops of his own that also echoed around the Acer Arena.
Hijo mounted Wolf and the crowd counted along as he unloaded with a barrage of shots, reaching eight when Wolf lifted him up into the air and brought him down with an inverted atomic drop…
Except, it didn’t land.
And Angel floored him with a clothesline.
Hijo then wound up Wolf’s arm and brought the Top Dog back to the Foundation’s corner, tagging El Futuro Rey in. Rey came off the top with a double axe-handle to the weakened arm as Angel held it. Then, Futuro applied an arm wringer of his own but Wolf’s outstretched hand, the free one obviously, pushed EFR back into the ropes as the referee called for a clean break. Wolf didn’t observe it, preparing to shoot the silent Foundation member off into the ropes, the official bollocking him for it, which actually played into Wolf’s hands as he distracted the referee by arguing with him. As El Futuro Rey rebounded off the ropes, well that’s the point…
He didn’t.
As he was about to, Bull pulled down the ropes causing Rey to go up and over and fall to the concrete floor hard, enraging Davis and Angel in the corner. As they tried to point it out, Angel actually entering the ring to get the ref’s attention, Wolf winked at Davis. Meanwhile, the furore allowed Bull and Serpiente to double-team poor Futuro. Bull bodyslammed Rey onto the announcers’ desk, which didn’t budge. Before he could get any rest in a vertical position, Serpiente picked him up and drilled Rey’s head into the ringside barricade and started to choke him out illegally with a cable as Bull kept lookout.
Wolf was still taunting Angel and Davis on the inside. The latter told the former to vacate the ring, which he did, as Wolf waved goodbye to him. Serpiente rolled EFR back into the squared circle.
The Michigan Wolverine stood over Futuro and smiled. Instead of continuing the assault, he stepped over Rey and tagged Serpiente in, who in the official’s eyes was entering the battle for the first time even if the Aussies knew better.
As Rey got to his feet, oblivious to where he was, let alone Serpiente, he looked around to see the Latin Snake perched on the 2nd rope…
LEAPING TORNADO DDT!
1…
2…
And it was nearly over!
The crowd was surprised by Serpiente’s athleticism and the beautiful manoeuvre extracted a collective ‘OOOH.’ The beauty of The Silent One was he could strike from anywhere, had so many strings to his bow and went about his business in an unassuming manner. He’d shown glimpses of it during Bull’s victory over Spanish starlet Carrachio Salfuego.
Serpiente dragged El Futuro Rey up off the canvas and dropped him into the corner with Snake Eyes, tagging Bull in after impact, neglecting to cover.
Bull pointed at Davis and Angel, laughing at their haplessness. The duo no-sold his taunt but El Futuro Rey had no other option to ‘sell’ as he was the unfortunate victim of an earth-shaking double underhook suplex…
1…
2….
3?
Not quite. It might actually have been 3, but Bull pulled EFR up at the last minute, getting reprimanded by the referee in the process. We would never know if it would’ve been enough. Bull shrugged off the authority figure’s anger and focused his efforts in inflicting yet more damage, which is exactly what he did as he locked his massive arms around Rey…
Belly-to-Belly!
1…
2…
And Bull did exactly the same thing, bringing Rey’s shoulders up for him, toying with his opponent. He left him on the floor this time, tagging in his superior, Wolf, who elected to enter in some style…
Guillotine Legdrop from the 2nd rope!
1…
2…
EFR legitimately kicked out of Wolf’s arrogant cover. The Leader of the Pack hadn’t hooked a leg or utilised his weight advantage to pin Futuro’s shoulders to the canvas for 3 seconds. It didn’t look like he cared.
Wolf raked the back of EFR as he brought the luchadore up to his feet. Methodically, the Beasts were dissecting Rey and pouring on the punishment at a deliberate pace, a tempo that suited them down to the ground. For the Foundation to gain a foothold in this match, they’d have to quicken the speed significantly, which looked difficult at this moment in time, judging by the state of El Futuro Rey.
The Michigan Wolverine took his time in helping EFR back to his feet, which allowed the smaller man to fire back with four unanswered shots, stunning the 244-pound all-round athlete enough to cause separation, as a consequence of Wolf’s sheer arrogance…
EFR wanted to press home his advantage and launched himself at Wolf…
Only to get caught…
Snap powerslam!
1…
2….
This time, Wolf, like Bull before him, broke his own cover and the official warned Wolf and his team-mates to stop doing this. Davis shouted something at the Top Dog, who smiled and gestured with his middle fingers: “Don’t worry. It was only two.”
Wolf picked EFR up, again taking his time about it, only for Futuro to stun him with one kick to the knee, a right hand to the chin and after Wolf telegraphed a boot, Rey got underneath it and stunned the Top Dog with a kick to the back of the knee and treated him to a beautiful bulldog!
Futuro was not moving, but fortunately, neither was Wolf, who was definitely groggy. Enthusiastically egged on by Davis and Angel, whose constant clapping encouraged the audience to join in, EFR started to stir. By the time he had, Wolf was halfway across the ring, attempting to tag in Bull, who was eager to get in there and prevent The Foundation from breaking BoP’s distinct advantage.
TAG!
No, not The Amazing Gabriel. That was Wolf bringing Serpiente into play. Serpiente over…
Too late!
TAG!
MARCUUUUUS DAAAVIIIS!
Serpiente decided to get him some more, hardly wise given how Davis handled him on Episode 3, and Marcus made short work of the Latin Snake again with a Sudden Awakening, Davis’ Reverse DDT into a Reverse Bulldog across his knee.
Bull came in and Hijo De Angel leapt to his friend’s defence, literally, with a flying forearm out of nowhere. As the powerhouse got back to his feet, Bull felt the force of Marcus’ well-versed feet…
Ashi Mafura!
That’s Marcus’ signature jumping front spin kick while his trailing leg does yet more damage by catching the opponent in the head.
The former SPW superstar could really do it all.
As Wolf returned to action, Davis and Angel dropped him with a gorgeous double dropkick! Marcus wasn’t done there though. Wolf was going for a nice…
Deep Sleep!
A vicious reverse DDT following a front facelock.
Serpiente and Bull were getting back to their feet…
El Futuro Rey came back in and nailed Serpiente with a crescent kick.
Angel’s tremendous headscissors lit up the crowd, nailing Bull good and proper.
Wolf stood up and saw all three of them, begging for mercy and backing off, pleading for his life. All three Foundation members were buoyant, ready to fight and end this conflict with BoP.
Cleverly, Wolf rolled out of the ring to a chorus of boos and stood, hands on hips, next to the commentary table. He shook his head. He was buying time, just enough for Bull and Serpiente, to get back to their feet as Bull blindsided Hijo and Serpiente applied a sleeper on Futuro Rey. Suddenly, Wolf slid back into the ring. Davis wasn’t sure whether to help his friends, who were now struggling, as Bull put the boots to Angel and Futuro Rey was fading fast.
The referee, who’d lost all control of the bout, stopped his count at 8 when Wolf re-entered. However…
A jaw-jacker by EFR and a drop toehold meant Wolf’s trademark smile was gone.
Bull and Serpiente were on their backs again as Wolf’s world came closing in, Davis catching him before he stepped between the two ropes…
Wolf was left with nowhere to go as Marcus brought him back in like a mother fixed to discipline her badly-behaved child.
Serpiente, brawling with EFR, threw Rey out of the ring while Hijo clotheslined Bull over the top rope and electrified the place with a beautiful Asai Moonsault!
The referee went outside to stop the four warriors from brawling as The Foundation pounded Serpiente and Bull, though the former was able to give the official the slip and nip back into the squared circle unnoticed. On the outside, Hijo and Futuro gave Bull a double hiptoss that hurt the powerful Indiana Buffalo. Serpiente pulled Davis’ arms behind his back, just as Marcus was nailing Wolf with a flurry of kicks. It was now Wolf’s turn, the Wolverine licking his lips, unloading with fists of flurry, the complete opposite to Davis’ decent and moral use of the forearm, but it would all backfire…
As Wolf’s high knee went astray…
Davis ducked…
And he hit Serpiente cleanly on the chin!
Wolf’s open-mouthed expression told the story. He tended to his colleague, who was not completely cold but was definitely on Dream Street…
And unluckily for Wolf, The Dream was behind him…
SUDDEN STOP!
IT WAS OVER!
The multi-billionaire’s ¾ turn neckbreaker, which was lethal, had knocked Wolf out. Mind you, Wolf wasn’t the legal man…
Serpiente was.
Wait a minute…
ISURUS!
The group’s general had come from the crowd and was standing behind Davis, waiting patiently for Marcus to realise there was no referee and stand up.
It ran like clockwork.
Davis was about to come to the outside and tell the referee, when he felt something or someone clutch him by the back and knee…
DEPTHS OF DESPAIR!
Isurus’ Sidewinder Suplex had knocked Davis OUT!
Before he left, he pushed Wolf out of the ring and revived, fittingly here at Revival, Serpiente and in the process, his faction’s chances of survival here in the deepest ocean in the industry – ACW.
He whispered in Serpiente’s ear and ushered him towards Marcus’ prone body. As Isurus took off like a thief in the night, jumping the barricade, he dropped his sunglasses marginally to survey the damage he’d done, taking one last look before vanishing like nothing had ever happened.
Serpiente didn’t cover Marcus.
COBRA HOLD!
As he sank the hold in, Serpiente whispered into Davis’ ear: “Mi nombre es Serpiente.”
Whether the groan was out of confusion or pain was unsure, but it got tightened ten-fold as the notoriously quiet exectutioner repeated the phrase in a language Davis could understand: “I said…my name is SER-PI-EN-TE.”
As Wolf came around, he walked around the ring to stop Hijo and Rey from getting the better of Bull by dropping Angel with a fist to the throat and ramming his head into the apron. It was then he pointed out to the official what was happening in the ring. Reinvigorated by his friend’s presence, Bull launched Futuro into the steel ringsteps. It was coming together for BoP.
Especially when the official raised Marcus’ arm…
Once…
Twice…
Thrice!
Ding, ding, ding!
The camera zoomed in on the crowd where Isurus was standing, a fair distance away from the ring but able to see the victory confirmed. He then walked away, satisfied, seemingly heading for backstage where he’d meet up with the rest of his followers and celebrate their victory.
Bull and Wolf, both smiling sickeningly, returned to the ring and helped Serpiente up, raising his arms into the air, side-by-side as The Latin Snake had the final say in their rivalry with The Foundation, exacting some revenge for losing to The Dream in a nightmare showing on Episode 3.
Revival was a night where the tag team division had been revived and no team more so than The Beasts, who’d entered with evil intentions only to get side-tracked by the Foundation, who’d frustrated them on back-to-back shows.
Nevertheless, courtesy of their leader…
The Beasts were BACK.
WINNER: Beasts of Prey
The Orphan, the Son, and the Bastard
Three men.
The Spirit of ACW.
This is the story of the Orphan, the Son, and the Bastard.
* * * * * He is the former face of the company. The man who led it to glory in both 2006 and 2009. The former Television and Scorpion Fighting Champion, simultaneously. The winner of 2005’s End Game. And yes, the former two time ACW World Heavyweight Champion.
He is the man sacrificed at ACW’s altar by SilverHAWK in 2009, so that ACW might live on. Three years later, ACW endures, soon to be televised on ESEN with its most lucrative deal ever.
At Legends V, he returned, two years after he had been left for dead, to take his revenge on the people who abandoned him. Tonight, he fights for himself, and for the future that was stolen from him.
He is the Orphan, and for him, the Spirit of ACW is vengeance.
* * * * *
He is the son of the HAWK, the progeny of a Hall of Famer and the man who guided ACW back from the precipice of destruction, time and time again. The man who fought the Cabal and the Huntsmen from behind the scenes.
The father lived just long enough to see the company freed from tyranny, and in his final act, he passed on the soul of ACW to the GoldenHAWK.
A veritable rookie mimicking the maneuvers of the Hall of Famers who came before him, what he lacks in skill and experience he makes up for in heart, passion, and will. All-Star Championship Wrestling is in his blood, just as it was in his father’s. His heart pumps ACW through his veins.
He is the Spirit of ACW Champion, a title given to him by his father. It means more to him than ten pounds of silver – it is the faith of his father for the future, making ten pounds weigh twenty-five. And yet, the Hawk is not weighed down by the supposedly cursed championship. It liberates him, gives him the courage he needs to battle insurmountable odds.
He is the Son, and for him, the Spirit of ACW is hope.
* * * * *
He is a former ACW World Champion, and the Bastard King of Ages. He has worked for the Huntsmen and for SilverHAWK, but the only man whom Khristain Keller ever truly feels an allegiance to is himself.
The Orphan once drove him from ACW, but he could never truly stay away. ACW beats in his black heart, just as it does in the Orphan and the Son, but it beats to its own tune.
For his own reasons, he too desires the Spirit of ACW. Exactly why? He isn’t telling, but given his track record, the reasoning is unlikely to be pleasant, for anyone involved.
He is the Bastard, and for him, the Spirit of ACW is selfishness.
* * * * *
The Orphan, the Son, and the Bastard.
Vengeance, hope, and selfishness.
What’s your Spirit?
We find out now.
THE SPIRIT OF ACW CHAMPIONSHIP - TRIANGLE MATCH Khristain Keller vs. Orphan Vs. GoldenHAWK(c)
You just saw that, didn’t you?
Good.
No more hype needed.
“This contest,” Tommy Vale screamed, into his microphone, “is for the Spirit of ACW Championship, and it will be contested under the following rules! Victory may only be achieved by pinning or submitting BOTH of a competitor’s opponents! There will be NO rest periods between falls in this match, and there is NO TIME LIMIT!”
Considering the hatred all three men involved felt for one another, that meant that we could be here for a good, long while.
“Introducing first, THE CHALLENGERS!”
Cut the lights.
Moments later, “Black Tongue” by Mastodon began playing in the Acer Arena, and that only meant one thing.
K H R I S T A I N K E L L E R
I burned out my eyes I cut off my tongue I sealed them with all of the silver And now I have none
The former [black] Scorpion Champion walked the aisle in front of 21,000 screaming Aussie ACW fans. Wearing his usual perpetually pissed off scowl, Keller flipped off the occasional fans who got a little too into his face, in no hurry to get into the ring, milking the jeers for all they were worth.
You killed the life You took the diamond You killed the vine Death of the...
“Hailing from Orlando, Florida, he stands 6’3”, and weighs in at 230 pounds! This is the former ACW World Champion, and the Bastard King of Ages, ladies and gentlemen….KHRRISSTAAAIIIINNNN KELLLLLLERRR!”
You own the darkness And taken my sight You buried the stars underground You've stolen the night
Into the ring the Bastard King of Ages went, giving a choice middle finger to the arena as a whole before settling back into his corner and making a filthy come-on to Paige Davis, tonight’s intrepid referee.
She ignored Keller. Unfortunately for her, she’d had lots of practice at that.
You can run to the sea You can run to the forest You can hide But you'll never escape
“And,” Tommy Vale intoned, from center ring, “his opponent!”
Cut the lights AGAIN.
This time, we got one of the two final boss themes of Final Fantasy XIII, Hamauzu Masashi’s “Born Anew.”
Mihi nomen Orphanus Orphanus
O R P H A N
At the top of the entryway, a single bright spotlight illuminated the stage. Standing there, of course, was the former Seymour Almasy, bound in a bloody straitjacket, just as he had been at Legends V.
Just as he had been two years ago, when Khristain Keller had been the man to lock him in the garment.
ACW technicians moved to release the jacket, lest Keller get any cute ideas. Freed from the straitjacket, the Orphan began his long, slow walk towards the ring, letting the jeers wash over him, and nodding at the occasional cheer he heard.
Even banished to the cheap seats, the Party could make NOISE.
His shortened, platinum hair, a casualty of Keith Scott Zimmerman’s burning bamboo sword, hung halfway to his shoulders. Tonight, the Orphan had traded in tight black leather pants for conventional red wrestling spandex tights, red kneepads, and red boots. All told, it was more skin than he’d ever revealed in an ACW ring before, and while most of the men were content to boo him, he received more than the occasional appreciative catcall from the arena’s females and interested gentlemen.
Mihi nomen Orphanus Orphanus Mihi nomen Orphanus Orphanus
“Hailing from Orphan’s Cradle, he stands 5’9”, and weighs in tonight at 190 pounds! He is a former two-time ACW World Champion who has forsaken his former identity! Ladies and gentlemen, this is ACW’s Forgotten Son! He is THE FAL’CIE… ORRRRRRPPPHHAANNN!”
Diem gemitus lacrimamque divae matris Diem gemitus lacrimamque divae matris Diem gemitus lacrimamque divae matris
The Orphan wasted little time, climbing up the ring stairs and into the squared circle. He, too, settled into his own corner, cracking his knuckles and loosening up his wrists for the battle at hand as “Born Anew” came to its conclusion.
Quae spes mihi sunt
“And,” Tommy Vale began, the crowd rising to fever pitch (but not Fever Pitch), “THEIR OPPONENT!”
Lights? You know the drill.
Rage Against the Machine.
“Wake Up.”
CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERR~!
S P I R I T O F A C W G O L D E N H A W K
Come on! Uggh!
Aaron Jones, Jr. bounded out from the back; Spirit of ACW Championship draped over his shoulder, wearing his BRAND NEW First Family of ACW t-shirt, with the insignias of both Silver and Golden HAWK entwined on the front. Pretty cool, huh? He thought so; it was his first-ever t-shirt!
The GoldenHAWK slapped hands with fans on the way down the aisle, eyes rising ever so often to look at his opponents in the ring.
Tonight would not be easy, but the HAWK wanted it no other way.
Come on, although ya try to discredit Ya still never read it The needle, I'll thread it Radically poetic Standin' with the fury that they had in '66 And like E-Double I'm mad Still knee-deep in the system's shit Hoover, he was a body remover I'll give ya a dose But it can never come close To the rage built up inside of me Fist in the air, in the land of hypocrisy
“Hailing from the ACW Arena in Montreal, Quebec, Canada, he is the son of SilverHAWK, and tonight, he makes his THIRD defense of the Spirit of ACW Championship against his two most hated rivals! Ladies and gentlemen, this is ACW’s Son and the REIGNING, DEFENDING SPIRIT OF ACW …… GOLLLLLLDEEENNNNHAWWWWWKKKKKK!”
The HAWK entered the ring, settling back into a third corner, head bobbing along to the music. He was on the biggest stage ACW had to offer – PPV, defending the second most prestigious title in the company. This was the stuff dreams were made of.
Movements come and movements go Leaders speak, movements cease When their heads are flown 'Cause all these punks Got bullets in their heads Departments of police, the judges, the feds Networks at work, keepin' people calm You know they went after King When he spoke out on Vietnam He turned the power to the have-nots And then came the shot
As Rage Against the Machine wound down, Paige David beckoned the three competitors to center ring. HAWK unstrapped the belt from his waist, and handed it to Paige, who allowed both Orphan and Keller to look at it.
“I’ll be seeing it soon enough,” both men said at the same time, and both nearly lunged at the other. Paige hurriedly handed the silver championship belt to Tommy Vale, who gave it to the timekeeper, and she rang the bell then and there, adding a hurried “you three know the rules.”
*DING DING DING*
AND HERE. WE. GO.
Orphan was content to lay back at the bell, as Keller and HAWK advanced on one another.
Of course, when both men turned to face the Fal’Cie, this suddenly seemed like a much less good plan, now didn’t it?
DOUBLE SHOULDERBLOCK!
And, of course, once Orphan had been knocked ass over teakettle, Keller and HAWK opened up on one another with heavy rights and lefts, and the battle for the Spirit of ACW was underway.
Khristain fired HAWK into the ropes, who promptly ducked Keller’s outstretched elbow and came back with the LOU THESZ PRESS BAH GOD! FISTS OF FIRE FROM GOLDENHAWK!
Indeed, HAWK was opening up with rights and lefts, taking out all of his aggression and frustration on the forehead of the King of Ages. Orphan, by now, was sitting up against the ropes, goldbricking a little, watching as things unfolded.
GoldenHAWK picked Keller back up, scoring with a knee lift to the abdomen, and then elevating Keller up for a big vertical suplex. At that moment, Orphan pounced, sweeping out the HAWK’s leg, causing Keller to land awkwardly on top of the Son of ACW, and forcing Paige to count.
ONE!
Orphan, of course, promptly plucked Khristain Keller off of the cover, and flung him shoulder first into the corner. Keller went all the way to the post, shoulder bouncing off the steel, and it was all that Orphan could do to not cackle with glee.
“Let’s make this a short night, Aaron, shall we,” Orphan grinned, as Hawk fought his way back up to his feet, a little bit dazed from the awkward landing of Keller on his body.
Orphan, meanwhile, raised his right arm in the air, pumped it once, and then spun around to CLOBBER the Spirit of ACW with a spinning elbow right across the jaw.
Or, as ACW knew it, DANGEROUS III!
Orphan’s variation of the Roaring Elbow that had brought Max Danger so much success over the years put GoldenHAWK flat on his back. The champion began to try and scramble, rolling to his belly to prevent a cover, but Orphan had already backed away, looking to kick the HAWK in the head and get one fall out of the way.
MERCILE--
Orphan came up short from his near dead sprint, finding Khristain Keller planted in his path, head shaking, arms folded.
“The Hell,” Orphan demanded, then soon found his throat constricted, courtesy of a large Kyle Keller hand wrapped around his neck. Keller choked away at the former Final Fantasy until Orphan slammed a thumb into the eye of the former World Champion.
Even assholes like Keller need to be able to see.
And, with Keller temporarily blinded, the Orphan could go to work.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he insisted, kicking Keller HARD in the thigh, then a second time. A third kick swept out the leg, knocking Khristain to his ass, and Orphan was just getting started.
Orphan’s kick-pad beat out a staccato on Keller’s chest, courtesy of three more hard, pinpoint shots. Keller threw his middle finger up by way of reply, only for Orphan to kick that, too, and then PASTE Keller across the face with a vicious roundhouse kick that spiraled the former King of Ages to his stomach.
GoldenHAWK was rapidly recovering, and so Orphan neatly charged across the ring, burying a knee in the young man’s gut, and then throwing him through the ropes to the floor. HAWK’s body smacking mat-covered concrete meant that there would be no one to stop Orphan from flying back across the ring and punting Khristain Keller in the side of the head.
Merciless Judgment had been rendered, and even for a double-tough SOB like Keller, there wasn’t much you could do about being knocked clean out.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The bell sounded to indicate the fall, and to put it mildly, the Aussies weren’t happy.
“At a time of two minutes, and forty-one seconds,” Tommy Vale yelled, from his seat at ringside, “Orphan has pinned Khristain Keller! To win the Spirit of ACW Championship, he now must defeat GoldenHAWK!”
Orphan showed no signs of resting on his laurels, having gotten a pinfall over his hated nemesis, and in shockingly quick fashion. No, he quickly dropped down, and rolled out to the floor, hopeful to press his advantage on GoldenHAWK while Keller was still down and out.
As he went to pick up HAWK, though, Orphan found himself thrown forward into the barricade, courtesy of a surprisingly savvy leverage move by the rookie. Locked in the fight of his life, HAWK knew that he’d have to pick his spots to win, and a big spot was laying, semi-conscious, in the middle of the ring.
Crawling back in under the bottom rope, GoldenHAWK covered Khristain Keller, hooking the leg deep.
Two falls on the King Shit of Fuck Mountain in under three minutes?
ONE!
TWO!
THR—NO! SHOULDER UP!
G-HAWK wasted no time at the kickout, moving away from Keller, and ascending to the second turnbuckle. He flew off at the still dazed Khristain, who managed to roll JUST out of the way of the back senton. Keller’s head hurt like the dickens, but seeing Orphan downed on the floor, he knew that it was time to press the advantage.
He fired GoldenHAWK into the corner and followed immediately, sandwiching the champ in the corner with an avalanche. K2 opened up with rights and lefts, his favored offense, working over HAWK like a heavy bag before simply grabbing HAWK’s ears and HEADBUTTING him right in the goddamned nose.
The sickening crunch, audible to even fans in the first row, told the HAWK that this wasn’t going to be a good day at the office.
Keller fired HAWK across to the opposite corner, but this time, his charge was met with a boot to the face. As Keller staggered backwards, Goldie charge, hooking a front face lock, and taking to the air for a running, full-revolution Tornado DDT that spiked the Bastard King of Ages right back on his aching noggin.
Another cover followed, and once again, HAWK cinched the leg, nice and deep.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-SAVE BY THE ORPHAN!
Indeed, only a diving, last ditch sledge to the back of GoldenHAWK prevented the champion from getting on the scoreboard. Orphan clearly had no interest in allowing either of his competitors to get within reach of winning this contest.
Keller was down, but only the fresher HAWK remained for Orphan to defeat. Orphan hooked on the Thai plum that he had used to great effect in their first meeting, but the HAWK countered, simply dropping down to his ass before Orphan could make with the knees. As a confused Orphan bent down, HAWK fired off a double footed kick to the face that made the Party wince all the way up in the cheap seats.
Reeling and off-balance, Orphan took a wide, looping swing at HAWK that missed, allowing Goldie to maneuver behind the Orphan, locking in the time-honored SLEEPERHOLD!
The Fal’Cie immediately began to drive towards the ropes, fingertips touching the strands before HAWK pried them off by yanking back. It wasn’t really the sleeper that HAWK had in mind, though. Not against the slight former Final Fantasy. All Orphan could really do was brace for a crash landing as HAWK popped his hips, and dropped him on the top of his head.
SLEEPER SUPLEX!
Yet again, GoldenHAWK covered, and if pro wrestling was on a points system, the HAWK would be way ahead.
ONE!
TWO!
TWO! POINT! NINE!
Keller didn’t make the save; he was still pulling himself back up to his feet. Only Orphan still being reasonably fresh saved him, but after the Sleeper Suplex, he was in nearly as bad shape as the others. The Fal’Cie crawled towards the ring ropes, and pulled himself out to the apron in an effort to buy himself a little bit of time.
Khristain Keller, meanwhile, NOW wobbled back up to his feet, glaring angry daggers at the HAWK. Grabbing the Spirit of ACW by the scruff of his neck, Keller picked HAWK up, placed him on his shoulders, and Samoan dropped his opponent to the canvas. No cover followed, as Keller picked HAWK right back up, intent on returning some of the head trauma that had been inflicted on him, courtesy of the time honored…
PILEDRI—
No! HAWK FIGHTS IT!
Keller struggled with Hawk wriggling in his grasp, firing a series of hard, clubbing forearms across the back, throwing blow after blow until Goldie went limp.
NOW Keller could piledrive him.
He COULD, for about five seconds, until a steel chair came flying into the ring that hit Keller square in the dome, courtesy of one Orphan. Paige Davis whirled around to call for the bell…only to realize the rules of the match basically seemed to imply no disqualifications. After all, each man had to pin or submit both of his opponents. Disqualifications were meaningless.
Seeing Paige Davis not really willing (or able; the rules weren’t exactly clear on this point) to disqualify anyone, the self-proclaimed Spirit of ACW grinned. Stepping back into the ring, he recovered his trusty chair, patted it once, and turned around to swing at the GoldenHAWK.
One problem. HAWK was airborne, and the dropkick that followed sent the chair smashing into Orphan’s face-painted mug.
HAWK wanted to cover, badly, but he saw Keller recovering. If he could just take Keller out, he could pin both men, in rapid succession, and retain his beloved title.
Very carefully, HAWK scooped up the chair, and made his way to the top, getting ready to clobber Keller with a huge, diving chairshot.
Another problem: Keller. He quickly lunged to the side, into the ropes, forcing HAWK to crotch himself on the top turnbuckle. Worse, he was now holding the chair right in front of his face.
That was an error Keller would punish.
Pete Borst? Still no royalties for you.
F U C K H E A D
HAWK fell off the top rope as if he’d been shot, collapsing to the ring apron and then to the floor itself. Inwardly, Keller groaned, but then shot a predatory glance at the still out of it Orphan.
Oh, this was going to be SO damned satisfying.
Grabbing Orphan by his white hair, Keller hoisted him back standing. With bile in his throat and a wicked, evil smile on his face, K2 sat Almasy on the top turnbuckle, and climbed right up top with him to the second rope.
Up in the cheap seats, the Party covered their eyes.
“Say goodbye, fuck-o,” Keller grinned, before lifting Orphan vertical.
Mr. Orphan, meet Unconsciousness. The matchmaker?
Second.
Rope.
painKILLA
The impact was frightening. A normal painKILLA was bad enough, but off the second rope? Orphan was toe-tagged, and the entire building knew it.
“Count ‘im,” Keller exhorted Paige Davis. He dropped down to cover, both meaty paws pressed down hard on Orphan’s chest.
In his ACW career, Khristain Keller had never pinned Seymour Almasy.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Orphan, Seymour Almasy, whatever his name…Keller was on the scoreboard.
*DING DING DING!*
“At nine minutes, fifty five seconds, Khristain Keller has pinned Orphan! To win the Spirit of ACW Championship, he now must defeat GoldenHAWK!”
God help them, some of the fans were CHEERING Khristain Keller. For his part, Keller was uncharacteristically happy; having finally, FINALLY put the RPG dork’s shoulders to the mat.
Forget ‘to the mat.’ It was more like ‘THROUGH the mat.’
With a disdainful look, Keller kicked at Orphan’s corpse, until he fell from the apron to the floor. He made no move to go after GoldenHAWK; after all, the HAWK still needed to beat him (and Orphan, but really, that seemed pretty easy at this moment) to retain his strap.
“Come on, fuck-o number two,” Keller smirked, gesturing for the HAWK to soar back into the ring.
The Son of ACW had a brutal headache, but at least he was better off than the destroyed Orphan, whose fangirls were in near tears in their relocated seats.
GoldenHAWK complied, stepping into the ring – and deftly catching the boot that Keller was trying to set up another painKILLA with. Dragon Screwing Keller to the ground, the HAWK set about trying to cross the legs of the Bastard King of Ages – in an ode to the man crumpled and broken on the floor.
GoldenHAWK was looking for the Chrono Cross.
Keller, thought, introduced the flat of his boot to HAWK’s already injured nose, putting an end to that particular delusion. Pulling himself up, Khristain rocked HAWK with a pair of right hands to the face. Keller wasn’t exactly known for having a large move set or anything, but he sure as shit could put a man down for three.
The HAWK charged for a cross body, but Keller caught GoldenHAWK coming in, and promptly dropped him across the knee with a rib-breaker.
The Bastard King held his grip, though, and hoisted HAWK up to his shoulders, dropping with a quick-hitting Samoan drop. Holding the position, Keller grabbed the leg for a cover.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Two, and not particularly close at that. Keller groaned, but picked HAWK back up, wrapping a hand around the Son of ACW’s throat.
Keller wasn’t a big man, not by usual users of the choke slam standards, anyway.
YOU want to bring that up with him?
CHOKESLAM BITCHES!
ANOTHER cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THR—SHOULDER!
“Count faster, bitch,” Keller snarled, and Paige Davis merely held up two fingers. Picking Goldie back up, K2 shot him into the corner, but a blind charge that followed hit nothing but turnbuckle.
With an opening there, HAWK pressed it, grabbing the back of Keller’s bald head.
MORE trauma for Keller’s head, and he fell to the canvas gracelessly, trying like Hell to recover.
And GoldenHAWK? Up top he went. ACW had a great history of aerial moves, and on this night, the HAWK opted to give a shout out to the SECOND most famous native of Anchorage, Alaska in the wrestling business.
POMPOUS PERFECTION!
The big frog splash connected, and GoldenHAWK hooked the leg, his first fall of the contest in sight.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-NO!!
K2, if nothing else, was a stubborn fuck who didn’t like to lose one little bit. But the kickout had taken quite a bit away from him, and so he crawled to the corner, trying to grab a moment’s rest while the HAWK plotted his next move.
Hawk was going to follow, but it was sort of hard to follow when you got blindsided by a roundhouse kick to the back of the head, courtesy of, oh yeah, the third guy in the match you thought was still dead.
“BOOOOOOOOOOO!!”
With the King of Ages a heap in the corner, Orphan saw his chance to end this thing, take a new shiny title, and go back to celebrate with his lovely fangirls.
He shot a wary glance towards the aisle way, as if paranoid that Keith Scott Zimmerman lurked somewhere, waiting to ruin his moment.
No ex-smark showed up, and so Orphan set the HAWK up, flipping him upside down. What followed wasn’t a usually part of Orphan’s repertoire, but he’d eaten the move so many times from men such as Max Danger and Kelly Flawless that he picked up a pretty good idea on how it worked.
POWERBOMB!
Orphan splattered GoldenHAWK into the canvas with the powerbomb, leaning forward to stack HAWK’s weight over his shoulders for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-SHOULDER!
As HAWK lifted his shoulder at the last second, Orphan shrugged, lifting HAWK back up, struggling to elevate the son of SilverHAWK for a second powerbomb.
Still shaky from having been painKILLAed halfway to the other side of the globe, though, Orphan was ripe for the pickings.
SECOND POWE--COUNTERED!
With the momentum, HAWK flipped over Orphan, rolling him into a sunset flip. Rather than stop seated, HAWK pushed to his feet, and flipped over with a jackknife cradle on the struggling Orphan!
ONE!
TWO!
THREEE!!!
*DING DING DING!*
“At fourteen minutes and seven seconds, GoldenHAWK has pinned Orphan! To retain the Spirit of ACW Championship, he must now defeat Khristain Keller!”
The Acer Arena, to put it mildly, went batshit. GoldenHAWK had pinned Orphan, and done it cleanly. No assistance from either of his antagonists. No, Orphan’s shoulders had been pinned for the count of three, and to put it mildly, Orphan. Was. Not. Happy.
Getting up from the pinfall, he tackled GoldenHAWK to the canvas immediately, shooting a double leg takedown and opening up with hard lefts and rights to the face, then opening up with a series of stomps to the chest and abdomen with reckless abandon.
“You WILL regret that,” Orphan promised, in a pain-hazy yet no less frightening tone, ”for the rest of your natural life. All you had to do was LAY DOWN, but nooo. You had to take after Daddy. Let’s see how well you do when you REALLY take after him – by being in the past tense.”
From within the leather pants that had become an Orphan trademark, ACW’s Forgotten Son pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Paige Davis pleaded with Orphan to stop, but the former Seymour Almasy openly laughed in her face.
“What are you going to do,” he asked, as he wrapped the handcuff chain around his fist, “disqualify me?” He measured the GoldenHAWK, waiting for the champion to stand so as to best waffle him with the cold, hard steel.
Or, he would have, had Khristain Keller not been there to spin Orphan around and spinebuster him practically THROUGH the canvas.
“Not today,” Keller growled, grabbing GoldenHAWK by his hair, and pulling the Son of ACW back to his feet. One painKILLA away from the Spirit of ACW Championship, Keller booted HAWK in the stomach, and elevated him vertical, but the Son slipped down behind before the move could be executed.
Growing very tired of fighting faster guys, Keller spun, swatting away a GoldenHAWK dropkick, and backing into the corner.
“I need a fuckin’ rest,” he snorted, before charging the rising HAWK and damn near running him over like a freight train.
The Clothesline From Fuck Mountain had done its job. Too well, in fact, as the impact sent HAWK careening towards the ring ropes, and not even a desperation dive from Keller could stop him from falling out to the floor.
Back, as it was, to square one.
The Bastard King of Ages picked himself up, resigning himself to the task of getting the HAWK. He didn’t make it even back to his feet before being bludgeoned in the back of the head with a handcuff-assisted rabbit punch from Orphan,
“You’re too much trouble,” Orphan moaned, clasping one of the cuffs around Keller’s wrist, “so you’re done for the night. Fucker.”
The other cuff of course, was placed around the middle rope, effectively binding Keller to the strand.
“The fuck,” Keller demanded, realizing that he had been handcuffed to the ring ropes, before resignedly waving his hands at Seymour. “Go on. Get your fuckin’ revenge. That’s what this is about, ain’t it?”
“Wrong. This isn’t about you anymore,” Orphan said, shaking his head. “I beat you. Now, I’m gonna take my time with HAWK’s kid.”
Only as Almasy walked away, dangling the handcuff key from his fingers, did the King Shit of Fuck Mountain realize what had really happened.
HAWK had to pin Keller to win the match. With Keller handcuffed to the ropes, no pin or submission would be legal. Ergo, HAWK needed the key.
Keller yelled out with an impressive stream of expletives as GoldenHAWK rose to his feet on the floor, and saw the depressing scene before him.
“You want to retain the belt, kid,” Orphan yelled, at his adversary, “you’ve got to come through ME to do it!”
For the second time that night, GoldenHAWK stood on the floor, being beckoned into the ring by an adversary. Orphan smiled, and slipped the handcuff key into his right boot.
HAWK knew what he had to do.
Into the ring he went, diving for the Fal’Cie’s legs, trying perhaps to just rip the boot away and call things a day.
Orphan, of course, wasn’t willing to let things go just that smoothly for the kid. No, he grabbed HAWK by the neck, pulled him up and away from that boot, and crossed his arms for the damnedest straitjacket DDT you’re ever going to see.
Rolling the kid over, Orphan covered, content in the knowledge that his night was over.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
“RAAAAH!”
The Requiem had not sent HAWK gently into that good night.
A seriously ticked off Orphan grabbed GoldenHAWK in a full-nelson. The submission lasted approximately a second before Orphan popped his hips, and returned the head-droppy suplex favor from much earlier in the contest.
RELEASE. DRAGON. SUPLEX.
Judging by the sadistic grin on Orphan’s face, he wasn’t done. Not just yet.
GoldenHAWK was practically limp in Orphan’s arms as the Fal’Cie hooked his foe for a ura-nage suplex. Of course, this being Orphan, the ura-nage lift only ended in a fall, right into a vicious kneelift to the back of the HAWK’s traumatized skull.
NECROSIS
Another cover. This time, BOTH legs hooked. No chances taken.
ONE!
TWO!
THREEENOOOOOOO! TWO FINGERS!
“STAY DOWN BEFORE I CRIPPLE YOU,” an enraged Orphan roared, after the second huge kickout in barely a minute by the plucky, determined champion.
Even so, two things were evident.
GoldenHAWK was down. GoldenHAWK was in trouble.
And as Orphan maneuvered his way over to the fallen Son of ACW, applying a full-nelson to the GoldenHAWK, what was about to happen gave longtime ACW fans a bad case of deja-vu.
Orphan flipped over, landing in a bridge while still maintaining the full-nelson. It was a move that Orphan had never executed, which made sense. It wasn’t Orphan’s.
The hold belonged to God’s Forgotten Son.
The hold’s name?
A WILLING SACRIFICE
GoldenHAWK screamed in pain. He knew the move. He had submitted to it before, with devastating consequences for ACW. Then, though, he had been greener than grass. Now, the HAWK could think, could try and plot an escape.
Even tied up as he was, unable to see, he knew that his body was parallel to the ring ropes, and not very far away at that. All he needed to do was get there.
While, of course, Orphan cranked on a submission hold that had earned its creator countless victories.
“TAP,” Orphan screamed, as the crowd in attendance yelled out for HAWK to not tap, thank you very much. HAWK’s left leg stretched out, nearly hyper-extending in its effort to reach the ring ropes. Only his toes managed to do so, but that was enough for Paige Davis.
“Break it!” she ordered, only to be met with laughter from Orphan. “Or you’ll what,” he asked, cranking down even tighter on A Willing Sacrifice.
“He’s in the ropes,” she retorted, “it’s no DQ, not falls count anywhere. You can’t win with this.”
“Who said I was trying to,” came the retort, along with another vicious crankdown on the hold that had GoldenHAWK on the verge of blacking out from the pain. Only then did Orphan release the maneuver, and rise to his feet.
It seemed like a lifetime ago that Khristain Keller had nearly assassinated him with the super painKILLA. Orphan was in full command now, and reveling in that fact.
“NOW I shall try to,” he proclaimed, grandiosely, backing up and taking careful aim. What he had in mind was evident: one more Merciless Judgment to cap the contest off with style.
As Orphan prepared to charge forward with his devastating head punt, though, he realized that he had made a grievous, grievous error.
LOW. FUCKING. BLOW.
By KHRISTAIN KELLER
Even handcuffed, the King Shit of Fuck Mountain refused to throw in the sponge. And as Orphan lay on the mat, clutching his testes in pain, GoldenHAWK had his chance. Ripping Orphan’s boot off, HAWK unearthed the key, and worked at the handcuffs, finally releasing the Bastard King of Ages…who promptly tried to thank him with a standing Clothesline From—
Ducked!
Rookie or not, the kid was learning fast.
And as Keller wheeled around, GoldenHAWK leaped in the air, hooking Keller’s head on the way down for a picture perfect ACE CRUSHER! Keller flopped over on impact, rolling to his back, and the time was now for the Spirit of ACW to climb out to the apron, and ascend to the heavens.
Keller was a good quarter of the way across the ring, but Goldie cared not.
Majestically, he soared, to catch Keller squarely in the sternum with a pretty damn nice diving headbutt. Let’s call it the HAWK DIVE, shall we?
You can also call it a successful title defense, because there’s the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR--MERCILESS JUDGMENT!
The rumors of Orphan’s death had been greatly exaggerated, as indicated by him SLAMMING his bare instep into GoldenHAWK’s temple at 2.9. The head punt broke the cover, and may have broken blood vessels in the brain of the Spirit of ACW.
Weakened from the exertion of a near twenty-minute contest, the Forgotten Son of ACW still had the energy to glare out at the capacity crowd, and drag a thumb across his throat – the universal sign of “It’s over!”
And considering HAWK had been punted in the skull, unless Keller could somehow save, it would be.
“Thanks, Christopher,” Orphan said, just loud enough for himself to hear. “You made this possible.”
The Orphan stood over the broken GoldenHAWK, placing his feet over the knees of the downed champion, then sat down himself. By the time he was stretching HAWK’s back over his outstretched knees, and lacing his hands so as to hook the HAWK in a Buffalo Sleeper, the Aussie crowd knew what this was – Orphan’s tribute to one of the few people associated with ACW he could tolerate.
It was, all told, one of the few times ever that ANARCHY’S LULLABY was met with jeering.
Paige Davis surveyed the scene, and seeing HAWK limp in Orphan’s arms, quickly moved to the free arm of the champion.
Up…and down.
Up…and down.
Up…
…and down.
She called for the bell. What choice did she have?
*DING DING DING!*
A groaning Khristain Keller rolled over just in time to see Orphan release the Anarchy’s Lullaby. As “Born Anew” played once more, the Bastard King of Ages knew that, once again, the damned tiny RPG bastard had come up trumps.
“At nineteen minutes and fifty nine seconds, your winner of this contest,” Tommy Vale screamed, above the booing, “and NEW Spirit of ACW Champion…ORPHAN!”
Paige Davis returned from the apron area with the silver Spirit of ACW title belt, only for Orphan to practically rip it from her hands, and gesture to his wrist. With little other choice, she raised the former Final Fantasy’s arm, much to the disapproval of the capacity crowd of Aussies.
Falling to his knees, Orphan looked at the silver plate of the belt. One of the few that had eluded him during his prior tenures with the company, the Spirit of ACW was now his. All his.
The Orphan, the Son, and the Bastard had waged war tonight at the Revival. In the end, it was the Orphan who got the victory that had thus far eluded him.
And now, the Spirit of ACW was a man who wished to bring the company down around him for its sins. And, oh yes, a man with the maniacal, psychotic Keith Scott Zimmerman on his tail.
Who said the silver belt is cursed, again?
WINNER: Orphan, last defeating GoldenHAWK by submission (Anarchy's Lullaby); becomes the NEW Spirit of ACW Champion
Hey Hank, Didn't Recognize You..
It was a shocking sight. Hank’s face had been burned by Keith Scott Zimmerman in the (Black) Scorpion title match, posing the question of how low Keith would stoop as his reign of terror continues.
A team of medics were attending to Hank, who was lying down on the stretcher but was not taken it lying down if you know what I mean, arguing with the experts and refusing to comply with their requirements: “Fuck off…I’m not goin’ to no hospital. I’m goin’ to the nearest bar. Get me off this fuckin’ stretcher now before I beat the shit out of every single one of ya.”
The cameras didn’t capture a close-up of the fallen challenger, his face covered as doctors removed dead skin, trying to apply cream to The Tank, which was proving to be an impossible task as he sat up, restrained: “You’d better take your paws off me before I do a lot more than burn your face,” Wright warned one employee.
After sitting up, a bandage covering his forehead and several burns across his face, Wright stood up and walked out, much to the chagrin and annoyance of the EMTs on hand.
We followed him down the corridor, Hank cursing as he held his face, clearly in distress and mightily pissed-off at the climax of his contest with Zimmerman.
All of a sudden, he crashed straight into something or someone.
Upon closer inspection, I think the former would be a better description…
Bull.
Flanked by Serpiente and Wolf, Bull laughed and pointed at Hank: “Hey. Isn’t this the guy we were supposed to really take out before we got sidetracked by those Honor boys?”
Wolf looked closely at Hank, his hand arched against his head as if he was struggling to see because of the sun: “So it is. I didn’t recognize him. What happened to you?”
The Michigan Wolverine’s finger pointed at Hank’s burns a bit too closely: “Don’t fuckin’ touch me or it’ll be the last thing you do, not only in ACW but wrestling, period.”
Bull chuckled: “I don’t think you’ll be doing anything, period.”
Wright, clearly in agony, moved closer to the Kokomo Colossus and looked him right in the eye: “Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about your attack and once I get done making Allison Zimmerman a widow, I’m comin’ for all of ya. Not just one, but the four of ya. There’s a guy we both know who’d love to see you get a free facelift and I think besides him, I’d be the next best man to rearrange it for ya.”
Wolf butted in: “That’s the problem, Hank. There are four of us. Who have you got, huh? This guy you speak of, where is he? No, I don’t think you’ll do anything, tough guy. Guided by Isurus, we’re taking over and you’re the first of the cancers that’s got to go in ACW. How you ever got in is beyond any of us but you won’t be back. There will be no third time, no charm, no nothing for you, Hank.”
Hank put his fists together and shoved them right in Wolf’s face: “There’s these two boys for a start, would you like to meet them, you little prick?”
Serpiente came in from the outskirts and stared at Wright, who stared back at him, squinting constantly: “What you gonna do?”
The Latin Snake took exception to Wright’s words, but The Governor wasn’t going to budge, injuries or not. Wolf moved to calm Serpiente down, resting his hands on his shoulders and telling him ‘it was only a matter of time.’
Hank stated: “Yeah, that’s right. Keep your mask on. I’m leavin’. We’re done here, but we ain’t done.”
Wolf tutted at Willis, who wanted to push it further: “Oh, we know that Hank. It’ll be done when WE say it is, not you.”
Wright sauntered off, brushing past the trio with utter contempt, and presumably not to the A & E deparment…
GRUDGE MATCH Andy Sharp vs. The Amazing Gabriel
The rabid and energetic Aussies in attendance had seen some wild action, some grand returns, a departure in the form of Jimmy Gonze, and all kinds of other wild and wacky stuff. In the next match, it wasn’t about titles. It was about one man’s quest for redemption and another’s quest to raise his stock in the company.
Andy Sharp. Whether he be loved or hated, his name is synonymous with All-Star Championship Wrestling, hence him being branded with the moniker of Mr. All-Star. One of the most decorated competitors in all of the company and invoking the most reactions no matter what alignment he had been. Fans have at times loved and adored him and other times they wanted to wring his fucking neck. Whatever the case may be, he was currently on a path to redemption wanting to win back the people he lost for a year.
The Amazing Gabriel. One of the bright stars of the company. With his crew, is a two-time ACW Tag Team Champion. But for the leader of the Night Life, this match is about being on the rise and in past months he’s been able to do that. With victories over Christopher Sheffield, a pair over current champion Tyson XL during their grueling best of five series leading to Legends and even two over his current opponent in a span of three weeks, The Amazing Gabriel – flamboyant and devious as can be – he was a schemer. And he was a winner. And he wanted to make it three in a row over Mr. All-Star.
Tonight, two men were looking to settle a grudge that spanned from long ago when they were in a defunct company. Before Gabriel was Amazing, he was “Light Speed” Steven Creed, a company man that went on to become the longest-reigning champion until a man named Andy Sharp showed up at the door and took the title that he loved. Since then a grudge had been held by Gabriel and since they crossed paths in ACW, Gabriel has accused Andy Sharp of using his status in the company to get his way. Sharp has accused Gabriel of being… well, a little bitch. So, let’s let these two gents settle this, eh? Tommy?
“The following is a grudge match and is scheduled for one fall!”
“Self vs. Self” by Pendulum feat. In Flames.
The curtains parted and as the opening riffs to the gross heavy metal/techno hybrid hit the speakers in the arena, out came none other than the leader of the Night Life himself, The Amazing Gabriel. He and Elyse Frost held hands like lovesick schoolchildren, waving and blowing kisses to the audience.
“First, making his way to the ring being accompanied to the ring by Elyse Frost… from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at 227 pounds… THE AMAZING GABRIEL!”
The Mustachioed Menace and his beau made their way to the ring, skipping to the music. Earlier, The Amazing Gabriel pledged that he would fight the good fight, but let’s be honest here. If he was spouting any more bullshit, then his eyes would be turning brown. He and Elyse Frost even did an Eskimo kiss just to make the crowd even more sick when he walked inside the ring and stood on the top rope. With two victories over Andy Sharp, both in singles and in tag team matches, he clearly had the advantage. He’d been able to play into Andy’s newfound aggression the last several weeks and if he could tap into that one more time, he could very well see victory number three.
“And his opponent…”
LET’S DO THIS!!!!
“Sick Puppies” by War.
The lyrics kicked in and green lights swirled all over the arena as the other half of this match came out from the curtains, playing to all sides of the arena. Absorbing the tremendous ovation in the Acer Arena, Andy slapped his chest and headed on down to ringside as he greeted some of the fans.
“And his opponent… from Montreal, Quebec, Canada, weighing in at 246 pounds… ANNNNNNNNNNDDDDDDDDDDDDYYYYY SHHHHHHHHHHAARRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP!”
Andy didn’t make just any kind of a run towards the ring, he was coming right at The Amazing Gabriel like a missile! The Amazing Gabriel prepared himself for whatever may come as he flinched, ready to try and block a punch…
…And Andy stopped and smirked.
DING DING DING!
And as if the very ghost of Rick James possessed him, Andy Sharp unleashed a mighty big backhand that caught The Amazing Gabriel across the mouth and sent him flying backwards. Caught off-guard
“One for flinching, fucker,” Andy chuckled.
The Amazing Gabriel looked at Elyse, who herself shrugged back at Gabriel unsure of what had become of Andy Sharp between the last episode of Courage and now. But regardless, The Amazing One still had two up over Andy Sharp. Gabriel and Sharp locked up and Sharp wasn’t having any of that. He simply shitcanned The Amazing Gabriel and tossed him into the corner. Rather than follow up, Andy continued to smirk like he knew something The Amazing Gabriel did not. This was a side of him that hadn’t been seen in almost two years.
“Smile because you’re thinking of getting donkey punched! I don’t care!”
The Amazing Gabriel walked right up to Andy and poked him in the chest with a finger.
“I’m…”
POKE.
“Still…”
POKE.
“Bet-“
But Andy hated Facebook and didn’t even like their version of a poke. So the real thing? Yeah, that got The Amazing Gabriel another punch to the face. Gabriel hit the mat and Andy went right on the attack with a pair of kicks to the chest. Andy was playing for keeps tonight so he launched Gabriel hard into the corner. He bounced right back and got FLOORED with a pretty stiff Clothesline from Mr. All-Star.
For the first time in what seemed to be forever, the crowd was now entirely behind Andy Sharp as he motioned to the crowd and pointed at some fans.
“SHARP! SHARP! SHARP! SHARP! SHARP! SHARP!”
The crowd was loving Mr. All-Star as it seemed he was truly trying to make amends for the things he had done in the past. He waited as an angry Gabriel came charging again, only to take a big Hip Toss from Sharp. Now getting angry like a hornet whose hive just got shaken up by some stupid kid with a slingshot, Gabriel was back up again, but Andy ducked and sent him HIGH into the air with a Back Body Drop that sent him crashing to the canvas!
The Amazing Gabriel recovered from his bad landing and stomped his feet, but got back up and walked right into the path of a HIGH Overhead Belly to Belly from Sharp that sent him flying head over heels and crashing right near the corner. Gabriel was in a very bad way now as he staggered around the ring and into the corner trying to get some sense of equilibrium back.
“You can beat him, Gaby Bear! I heart you!” Elyse shouted.
And… spew.
Gabriel couldn’t think about any of that as Sharp was now teeing off on him in the corner, throwing a series of hard European Uppercuts that were knocking him silly. The blows kept on coming until referee Paige Allen saw enough and ordered him to back off or get a DQ. Andy obliged and backed away, but the opening was all that Gabriel needed to go on the offensive. He caught Andy with a Battering Ram Heabutt of all things, doubling the former two-time champion over.
Turning the tides, he put Andy in the corner and a scowl crossed his face. The arrogant, flamboyant bastard disappeared and out came the pissed-off Amazing Gabriel that started all of this. He kicked away at Andy HARSHLY in the corner, throwing a series of Shoot Kicks to the chest that robbed Andy of much-needed air.
“Got you now, bitch!” He shouted as he grabbed Andy by the face and squeezed his lips together before delivering another kick.
With control back on his side now, he launched Andy across the ring, but Mr. All-Star was quicker on the draw and reversed the whip to send Gabriel into the corner. He hit the corner and Sharp came running, CRACKING him hard in the back of the head with an Alberto Del Rio-style Enzuigiri in the corner! Gabriel had that glazed look in his eyes and slumped over to the mat. Sharp dragged him away from the ropes and went for the first pinfall attempt of the match.
ONE!
TWO!
THR… KICK OUT!
Gabriel got the shoulder up as Elyse Frost breathed a sigh of relief on the outside. Sharp wasted no time continuing to go on the offensive as he took Gabriel by the head and rolled him forward with a Snapmare. With Gabriel in a seated position, he rolled and came through with the Rolling Neck Snap. Gabriel held his neck in pain now as Sharp got back up and went looking for a Low Kenka Kick, but Gabriel saw it coming and ducked the shot, catching Sharp with a quick Legsweep Trip.
Sharp was down on his back now as The Amazing Gabriel got back to his feet, now trying to get back into the regular offensive. With a smile on his face seeing his opportunity to strike, The Amazing Gabriel raised a hand towards the crowd.
“LOVE ME! LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
The boos were tremendous for the leader of the Night Life as he came running at Sharp. Mr. All-Star tried for another Back Body Drop, but Gabriel learned from his earlier mistake and came rolling right off Andy’s back to roll on his feet. Sharp turned around and ducked a high kick from Gabriel then tried for a Short-Arm Clothesline. TAG ducked that, but didn’t see the Enzui Lariat coming and got CLOCKED in the back of the head!
Gabriel clutched the back of his head and rolled to the outside as he tried to now create some distance. Whatever had gotten through Andy’s mind for this match, Gabriel wasn’t prepared for. He thought he could be safe on the floor as Andy Sharp remained inside, actually blowing a kiss to the Amazing Gabriel. TAG was stomping his feet on the outside, pissed that he’d almost been outmatched this contest so far. But what was to come was even worse as he barely had time to see Andy coming…
TOPE CON HILO TO THE OUTSIDE!
Mr. All-Star was dipping into the classics before he became a more grounded competitor, but he FLAWLESSLY flew over the ropes and landed right on the Amazing Gabriel, taking both men down! Andy was back to his feet and he even high-fived two of three of the drunk fans in the front row watching the match.
Somewhere, Mach 2 was telling Andy Sharp that if this was anybody other than Steve Allen, he was stealing his bit!
Following that Simpsons reference, Andy was back on his feet after his landing and dusted himself off before going over to pick up Gabriel. But he underestimated Gabriel’s recovery time and the leader of the Night Life TOSSED him gut-first into the ring apron to try and buy himself some time. It wasn’t the most complex of maneuvers, but it was just as effective as some 630 Mega Temporal Imbalance Twist or whatever kids do nowadays.
“Two can play at this game, you silly bastard,” Gabriel grunted.
The Ringleader leaped over the barricade and watched and waited patiently for Sharp to get back up. He used the guardrail as a mount, jumping with some plans of an attack. But Gabriel alsto underestimated Sharp’s recuperative abilities and got himself TOSSED hard into the ring apron!
The landing was the epitome of the words “Crash and burn” and he hit HARD against the ring apron. Sharp picked him up by the head and rolled Gabriel back inside the ring as he leaped over the ropes and dropped a Slingshot Leg Drop across the throat! The cover came next.
ONE!
TWO!
THR… KICK OUT!
The Ringleader was a lot tougher than most people may have given him credit for, but with victories over three former world champions, he was still a very serious threat to anybody that crossed him. Sharp picked him back up by the hair and tried to follow up with a suplex, but Gabriel rolled through and landed on his feet behind him. Instead of trying to go toe-to-toe with Andy, he once again headed back to the floor to try and stall him.
Sharp wasn’t going to give him any more time to recover and followed right along with him as he crawled to the floor. HE grabbed The Amazing Gabriel by the back of the head and SMASHED his head right into the nearby steel steps. Gabriel was in a very bad way now and Sharp wasn’t taking any of his crap.
Mr. All-Star had The Amazing One virtually on the ropes now as Gabriel continued to try and get away from him, looking dazed and confused the entire way. He rounded the corner and tried to get the hell away from Andy Sharp, but it was no good. Finally, Elyse stepped in and got in between Andy and The Amazing One as he used his girlfriend as a shield. Andy didn’t put up with any of her crap got a pretty big pop for piefacing her right down to the ground…
See, what started out as a massive cheer for Andy Sharp pushing Tyson XL’s baby mama to the ground ended with a gasp from the crowd when Gabriel came out of nowhere with a FUCKING STIFF High Kick that caught Andy right in the temple! He never saw it coming and before he knew it, he was suckered into something awful.
“THAT’S RIGHT, ANDY! I’M THE RINGLEADER! I’M THE AMAZING ONE! I’M THE PARTY STARTER! I’M THE NEW MR. ALL-STAR! YOU ALL SAW IT!”
Gabriel was screaming at anybody who would listen and if there wasn’t some kind of copyright infringement thing that’d go on, Gabriel would probably be blowing a trombone of victory like that Italian guy in that place. You know. The Wuh-We. Gabriel got into the face of the camera at ringside and started to scream at anybody watching.
“I saw that! You all saw that! The Amazing Gabriel! Greater Than Sign! Andy! And you!”
The acid-tripped leader of the Night Life tossed Andy back inside the ring and followed him as he caught him in the head several times with some stiff kicks aimed at his face. Andy was coherent enough to fight back against him and caught him in the chest with a pair of rights before running across the ropes. The Amazing Gabriel ducked underneath him the first go round and leapfrogged the second before Dropkicking him square in the face on the third go-round!
“THANK YOU! THANK YOU!”
Gabriel took a bow before he moved over and hooked both legs.
ONE!
TWO!
THR.. NO!
Sharp fired a defiant shoulder off the mat. The Amazing Gabriel growled and lifted him up by the head before throwing Sharp into the corner and smashing his head in the top turnbuckle. Mr. All-Star wad disoriented with another big Forearm Smash and another! Sharp came staggering out of the ring and when Gabriel came out for a right hand, Sharp blocked it and kicked him in the chest, but Gabriel fired back with a big kick to the chest. He ran off the ropes, but Andy fired back and caught The Amazing One with an Inverted Atomic Drop!
Raising a thumb to the crowd and enjoying a big reaction, Sharp came running off the opposite side and tried taking Gabriel's head off with a Flying Yakuza Kick...
...Except for that PESKY part where he moved out of the way and Sharp crashed badly.
And Gabriel didn't...
BROSKI BOOT!
The Jump Spinning Roundhouse Kick nailed Andy Sharp practically right between the eyes and he fell to the canvas while The Amazing One rolled over. After he took a second to compose himself as he ran in for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THRE... NO!
Both The Amazing Gabriel and Elyse Frost were surprised the second Andy's shoulder raised off the mat. Gabriel had a cross look on his face that told Paige Allen that he wasn't pleased with this shit and she could barely count.
“Bitch, you can barely count! How about after I win this match, we get some E and we bang?” Gabriel said with a wink.
“How about I projectile vomit and we call it a night?” Paige shot back.
“Kinky.”
And it was back to Andy Sharp and it was back to punching away at him as he picked him up and gave him some good shots to the face. Shapr tried to block and fire back with a punch of his own, but Gabriel went low and jabbed him in the throat with a chop. He was all up in Sharp's grill now and kicked him low before whipping him across the ring. He followed him in with a Corner Elbow Smash right to the chin. Sharp slumped over in his grip and TAG took advantage by snapping him with the Neckbreaker. He twisted him around slowly to put extra pressure on Mr. All-Star's neck and threw in a couple gyrations aimed at Elyse. She cooed as she watched her beau SPIKE him down with a Hangman's Neckbreaker!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE... KICK OUT!
Sharp was beginning to become very bothersome. Well, not really they've been feuding for a good while. He was past bothersome and was probably in the class of “I want this fucker dead.” So TAG pulled him back up again and tried going for a second Neckbreaker in a row, but Sharp quickly snuck out of that and surprised him with the Schoolboy!
ONE!
TWO!
NO!
TAG kicked out and when Sharp got back to his feet, he clipped him with a low kick to the chest. The Ringleader tried tossing Gabriel across the ring, but Sharp reversed that and caught him with a STIFF European Uppercut! He was back on the attack and jabbed a bunch of punches into the face of Gabriel, but the mustachioed menace kicked him in the knee to try and stop him from getting any more momentum. With him stunned, he took Andy's arm and wrapped it in a Hammerlock before snapping him over with a Headscissors pin!
ONE!
This was the same pin he beat him with on Episode 3!
TWO!
THREE...
KICK OUT!
It was THAT CLOSE! The Amazing Gabriel leaped up and screamed to the high heavens that he scored the victory, but when Paige held up two fingers, his jaw dropped to the ground.
“NO! NO! NO! YOU STUPID BI-!”
He was cut off by Andy when he grabbed him by the waist and dropped him backwards with a crippling Release German Suplex that nearly turned him inside out. Gabriel bounced up and flopped backwards while Sharp tried to take a moment to recover. Both Mr. All-Star and The Amazing One were down on the ground and Paige was starting a ten count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
FOUR!
Andy started to stir first and right after, Gabriel did as well. He checked his mustache to make sure that it was prim and proper.
FIVE!
SIX!
Sharp was on his feet...
So was Gabriel!
“YAY! BOO! YAY! BOO! YAY! BOO! YAY! BOO!”
Mr. All-Star and The Amazing One were exchanging blows in the middle of the ring. Sharp's punches versus Gabriel's Forearm Smashes. And the fans were hanging on every move. Sharp took control with a big knee to the gut and caught him with an Inverted Atomic Drop!
Sharp ran off the ropes and looked to kick his head off with a Yakuza... er, Legitamate Japanese Businessman Kick but The Amazing Gabriel evaded it with a forward roll. He was back on his feet and tried for a Spin Kick that Sharp ducked as well. Gabriel turned around... EXPLODER SUPLEX!
Mr. All-Star got back to his feet and had the crowd all sorts of fired up as he glanced out to the crowd. He ran off the ropes and stood over The Amazing Gabriel...
STANDING SHOOTING STAR PRESS!
Another move that he hadn't busted out in quite some time, but the 246-pounder connected perfectly and hooked the far leg of The Amazing One trying to finish the match once and for all.
ONE!
TWO!
THR.... NO!
Two and a half for Andy Sharp, but you never won a match with two and a half. Sharp showed signs of frustration but wasn't about to give up. The Amazing One snuck away from Sharp, but Mr. All-Star didn't give him much room. Gabriel grabbed him by the tights and shot Andy hard into the middle buckle, sending him crumbling into the corner.
Gabriel tapped his head to tell the crowd that he was way smarter than any of them. He smiled quickly and rolled back to his feet as he came charging right at Andy Sharp. He ran...
SNAP SCOOP POWERSLAM!
ONE!
TWO!
THR... KICK OUT!
Andy was very much still in the game, but The Amazing Gabriel wasn't about to go quietly into that good night. In his version of a good night it involved various hallucinogenic substances and about three or four lady partners. And possibly some Special K.
Sharp kicked Gabriel in the gut and doubled him over as he set him up for a Powerbomb. He had Gabriel up, but The Amazing One squirmed his way out and landing behind him. Sharp turned around right into the path of a PELE Kick! Incredible athleticism on display from Gabriel right there!
While Sharp was down, The Amazing Gabriel headed out to the apron and pointed to the fans a la Diamond Dallas Page before climbing to the top rope. Andy was feeling the effects of the first kick and never saw the Flying European Uppercut coming! Gabriel crawled over to the prone body of Andy Sharp and hooked his far leg! He had this now.
ONE!
TWO!
THR... KICK OUT!
Gabriel did a facepalm and shook his head. Not only did he not put Andy Sharp away, but he had some hooker that he forgot to feet back at his weird dungeon thingy... wherever the fuck he hangs out at. Gabriel stood to a vertical base and threw Andy into the closest corner.
He chopped him in the chest and threw an Uppercut and finally a solid punch to the mouth. TAG finished off his combination, but Sharp shook it off and tossed him into the corner before throwing a kick. He came charging at TAG, but the Ringleader elbowed him in the face and sent him staggering back. He leaped to the second rope...
THE PILL POP... NO!
Andy ducked that move, but Gabriel was able to land on his feet. He ran at Sharp and tried to take his head off with a Clothesline but he ducked and sent Gabriel into the corner. Andy's turn to charge at him but Gabriel got both legs up. Sharp threw him over the ring apron, but Gabriel got the foot up and CRACKED him in the face. Gabriel leaped over the ropes and Double Jumped...
THE PILL POPPER!
The same move he beat Andy Sharp with in the six-man tag on Episode 5! The Amazing One hurriedly went into the cover and pointed down at Andy's fallen body!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE... KICK OUT!
It was EVEN CLOSER than last time and the fans even counted along with The Amazing Gabriel's pinfall after that great sequence of reversals, but Sharp still kicked out again!
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
The Amazing Gabriel screamed with frustration! He was ready to rip his hair out and punched away at the canvas. He grunted at the referee and stood up, poking at Paige Allen's shirt.
“YOU ASSHOLE! THAT WAS THREE! HOW DID I BEAT HIM WITH THAT MOVE ONCE BEFORE AND NOT NOW! YOU'RE SEXIST! I WANT A MALE REFEREE THAT'LL AGREE WITH ME AND NOT MENSTRUATE ALL OVER THE CANVAS AND SHIT!”
Paige looked genuinely offended by his comment, but he didn't care. The move took a lot out of Andy, though, and he was easy pickings for when Gabriel went back on the assault. He pushed him back into the corner and threw some hard Forearm Smashes into his face and tried to wear him down some more. He lifted him up over the shoulder and ran into the buckles, looking for his Blu-Rahy signature move, but Andy slipped out and tried to roll him up with a Sunset Flip. The Amazing One rolled through and was back on his feet as he pulled Andy up with him. He Double Underhooked the arms and tried...
NOTHING SHORT OF AMAZIN... NO!
He twisted the arm around to free himself and pulled The Amazing Gabriel right into his clutches. He lifted him up and kicked him for his own Double Underhook move...
TIGER DRIVER!
The Double Underhook into the Sit-down Powerbomb caught him and he held him down into the cover! He ws going to finish this now!
ONE!
TWO!
THR... NO!
Gabriel kicked both legs up and freed himself from near defeat as both Andy Sharp and the crowd came deflated quickly. Andy was stunned and held up three fingers to the referee, but Paige told him it was two. Andy shook his head before he got back to his feet and waited quickly for Gabriel to get back to his feet. Andy tried for a charging spear, but Gabriel tossed him through the ropes and sent him crashing through the floor!
It was a pretty bad landing that he took to the outside and he was favoring his left knee now as Gabriel was surprised. He looked over at Elyse, who gave him a thumbs up and Gabriel had a big wide grin on his face now. Meanwhile on the outside, Sharp tried standing up and had to use the guardrail to get back up as he couldn't put all the pressure on it.
“Hahaha! Holy crip, he's a crapple, Elyse!” Gabriel laughed.
Paige went out to check on Andy now, who was clutching his knee in pain.
“Do you want to quit, Andy?” She asked him.
“No!” Andy nodded as he limped into the ring.
Gabriel noticed there was finally a chink in the armor of Mr. All-Star and smiled as he smiled at his agony. The second that Sharp rolled into the ring, he was the victim of some hard stomps to the knee and his body!
“Got you now, you overated FUCK!” Gabriel yelled!
The Amazing Gabriel was now having the time of his life as he continued to stomp away at Sharp. He kicked him in the bad knee and stomped away at him with an obvious target in mind now. Sharp could do very little to defend himself as he got up his good foot, clocking Gabriel in the face! '
Sharp was back up and the fans continued cheering on Mr. All-Star as he used the ropes to get to his feet. He tried to run right at the Amazing Gabriel, but his leg crapped out on him and he crumbled to the canvas and was unable to put any pressure on the leg.
He was essentially dead weight on the mat now and he was in the ring with a very dangerous and deadly opponent that could take advantage of that. He kicked Andy in the face a few times to make sure that he stayed down and walked outside the ring to head up top one more time. He smiled and winked over at Elyse as the crowd continued to hate on him. The leader of the Night Life pointed to the heavens...
SHOOTING.
STAR.
NO!
Gabriel SPLATTERED on the mat!
Andy even stood back to his feet and the crowd ROARED.
He started to dance a jig just to show that his leg was indeed fine. He had suckered Gabriel in and the crowd was enjoying it as Sharp tapped his head telling the crowd this was indeed part of his ploy. TAG had the wind knocked out of him and was easy pickings for Sharp to pick him back up...
THE SHAPRER IMAGE!
The Belly To Back Piledriver SPIKED him into the mat and Sharp was all smiles as the leader of the Night Life got put down hard. Sharp pumped a fist before rolling over and hooking both legs casually, trying to secure the win.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Elyse buried her face in her hands the second the hand hit the mat a third time. But she was the only one disappointed while Andy Sharp had his arm raised in victory.
“Here is your winner of the match! ”MR. ALL-STAR” ANDY SHARP!”
"War" played over the speakers again. Sharp stood back up and wiped some beads of sweat from his face before he climbed up the second turnbuckle, celebrating with the crowd. Sure, he played a dirty trick in order to secure the win, but Gabriel had been employing mind games and cheap tactics for several weeks now. In his mind, this was payback. And the crowd didn't seem to mind at all. If they were cool with it, so was he.
The smile never left Mr. All-Star's face as he climbed off the turnbuckle and looked at a sore Amazing Gabriel being helped out of the ring by Elyse Frost. He winked at her and blew Gabriel a kiss as he was walked back up the ramp.
Looking out to the crowd, he celebrated with his fans as they appeared to finally be able to accept Andy into their loving good graces once more. He stood on one side of the turnbuckles and raised his hands before patting Paige Allen on the back.
The Amazing Gabriel had made his life a living hell the last several weeks. But at least for tonight, Andy Sharp had gotten some major payback.
Tonight was the official return of THE Mr. All-Star!
WINNER: Andy Sharp via pinfall
Terms of Engagement
Backstage, in front of an ACW banner, with the main event mere moments away, Olivia McMullen stood alongside the brand new Spirit of ACW Champion, Orphan, wearing a perplexed expression on her lovely face.
“You asked for this interview,” Olivia asked, still smoothing out her hair. She was on worldwide PPV, after all, and she wanted to look her best.
“Indeed I did, my intrepid interviewess. Since I am now the Spirit of ACW Champion, I figured it only appropriate to inform the masses of what stipulation my reign will take on.”
Oh yes, that. A point that Dean Denton hadn’t had the chance to exercise. A point that GoldenHAWK had been a little too busy to determine.
Just the sort of thing that could make the hated Fal’Cie invincible, if he so chose.
“Well then,” Olivia said, quietly, “what’s it going to be, Orphan?”
“My stipulation is very simple. I can’t take credit for it; a schoolgirl named Inoue Doi came up with it in a little place called the Squared Circle that I worked for after the bright lights and TV got turned off. Held the Championship there, too. Was sort of awesome. Go find the DVDs. Anyway...”
For those who watched the Circle in the days of Inoue Doi’s Evolutionary Title reigns, they knew the score, and weren’t particularly pleased.
For everyone else, Mr. Orphan, if you please?
“ In all of my defenses of the Spirit of ACW Championship, I cannot be disqualified. That’s it. That’s all. The end.”
“I don’t see how that’s fair at all,” McMullen protested, her eyes wide.
“Oh, but it’s perfectly fair if you think about it,” Orphan chimed in. “I know that’s not your strong suit, so allow me to do the thinking on your behalf. It will go more smoothly that way.”
The pat on the shoulder that followed couldn’t be called anything but utterly patronizing.
“For years and years, I walked around ACW with my hands cuffed behind my back. Being the virtuous hero, I always took the high road…and look what it got me. Turfed from ACW, beaten to within an inch of my life by Khristain Keller, forever to be forgotten. I am done handicapping myself. If you want my title, all I am asking of you is to handicap yourself. I did it for three years. You can do it for one night, can’t you?”
The chuckle that erupts from the Fal’Cie’s throat is a pretty good indication that Orphan knows damned well what he’s doing. He places an arm around the now very sad looking Olivia.
“Now, now, don’t be too upset. I know that it sounds like I’ll never lose, but don’t worry. I’m not as heartless as Inoue Doi and Andy Sharp were. I’m willing to let people have a level playing field – with a catch, of course.”
It is that catch wherein the devil lies, naturally. Judging by Orphan’s posture, it’s a bit of a doozy.
“If you want me to erase the advantage that I earned this evening, all I ask is that you put something of value on the line. Your mask, perhaps. Hair, maybe. A prized possession. An evening of passion with your female significant other – just kidding, my Party. I can see your death glares from here.”
Back in the arena, Julia in particular looks as if she wants to claw someone’s throat out.
“So…they have to put something up if they don’t want you to just, say, beat them silly with a steel chair during the whole match?” Olivia asked, not really liking this much more than the initial stipulation.
“Very perceptive,” Orphan replied. “Perhaps you are better at this whole “thought” thing than I had given you credit for. Well done.”
Just as quickly, though, the Orphan’s painted face went from jibing to deadly, deadly serious.
“So, ACW, there are your options. Fight me on my terms, or do so on a neutral battlefield if you have the courage to risk something you value. Either way, for one evening at least, you will know what it was like to be Seymour Almasy.”
For a moment, the pain in his eyes is plainly visible, and the reasoning for all of this is clear.
“Maybe, once everyone on this roster has felt my pain…perhaps then they’ll understand.”
THE ACW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP Tyson XL (c) vs. Omega
It was that time. The match that everybody had come to see.
The main event of the evening.
At Legends V, the man called Tyson XL had grown from the man that liberated himself from The Night Life to being the man that liberated All-Star Championship Wrestling from the clutches of Z and the Cabal. He had cashed in his title shot from a month prior and used it when ACW needed to be free.
Since then, All-Star Championship Wrestling had seen the big man at the helm of the organization and representing himself as a fighting champion. But when the former Fight Night and Scorpion Champion, Omega, had made it clear that he wanted the championship that Tyson currently held, the two monsters had been wreaking havoc all across Australia in an attempt to one-up the other. Two of the biggest and most dominant forces in ACW had been on a collision course for weeks.
One other mystery at the heart of this entire feud was the disappearance of 'Barb.' The barbed-wire covered steel chair that was of all things, Omega's last link to sanity. And the second that the last link broke, Omega had snapped and nobody had been safe since then.
While Barb's whereabouts were still currently unknown, the matter at hand tonight was all about the ACW World Heavyweight Championship. Tyson XL had been one of the few people that showed no trepidation against the #1 Contender but was Tyson XL biting off more than he could chew? Could he do what very few people have done in the past and defeat Omega one on one or would the Craziest Bastard in Wrestling kick Tyson XL off the top of the mountain to usher in an entirely new reign of terror?
CUE UP: “Redeemer” by Marilyn Manson
The Acer Arena lights went out as a few strobe lights circulated around the arena. The music continued as Omega slowly made his way from the backstage area. He looked around as he walked onto the stage. He was still searching for ‘Barb’ with no avail, but for right now the ACW World Heavyweight Title would do. He made his way slowly down the ramp toward the ring. He heard a loud chorus of boos from the fans because of his actions the past several weeks, returning to the dark side. Omega had blatantly attack the new world champion, Tyson XL, just after his first defense against Spike Saunders. Then he had a match with newcomer V, where Omega destroyed the kid and got himself disqualified. He went ballistic on the kid and the word is that the kid is laid up with a concussion. Fight Man and DIM were next and finally; he came out on the winning end of a six-man tag and smashed the belt upside the head of Tyson XL as the show faded to black.
Thinking back on that list of accomplishments in the last few weeks, Omega was proud as he climbed into the ring, still taking in the tremendous amount of boos from the crowd. Now he was inside the ring and the lights returned to normal as Omega flashed an evil sneer that would give young kids in attendance nightmares.
His music went away and from there, the crowd then turned on their heads collectively again when the driving guitars of “Piece by Piece” by Strata hit the speakers. The red and blue lights started to pulsate throughout the arena and at the opening screams of the lead singer of Strata, the fans jumped out of their seats and cheered on the man that was given the blessing of the former hero, Sheffield, as he parted the curtains.
Tyson XL looked to both sides of the arena and flashed the ACW World Heavyweight Championship which got him a tremendous response from the crowd. Wasting zero time, the crowd fueled Tyson with a lot of energy as the former Big-Ass Black Scorpion (as coined by his former mentor, The Amazing Gabriel) charged on down to the ring.
He climbed onto the turnbuckle and held the championship high in the air, but his gaze remained on Omega, who looked back at him with a sinister smile, remembering the things he'd done to the champion. Tyson XL remembered them just as well and actually managed to keep a little bit of his composure as he hopped off the turnbuckle and handed the title over to the referee. The ring announcer, Tommy Vale, was standing in the middle of the ring... nay, the war zone between the two monsters. He did the announcements.
“ACW fans, this is your main event of the evening! This match will be contested for none other than the ACW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP~!”
The striped zebra right in the middle held up the title in the air as Tyson XL and Omega stared across from each other. The camera cut to the Craziest Bastard in Wrestling, still flashing that devious smile.
“First, in the corner to my left... from somewhere in Missouri... he weighed in this morning at a weight of three-hundred thirty-five pounds... he is a former Fight Night winner and a two-time Scorpion Champion... he is the #1 Contender to the ACW World Heavyweight Championship... OMEGA~!”
Omega raised a finger in the air as the crowd rained down heavy boos.
“And in the corner to my right... from San Diego, California... he weighed in this morning at a weight of three-hundred twenty-three pounds... he is a former two-time ACW Tag Team Champion and a former Scorpion Champion... he is the reigning and defending ACW World Heavyweight Champion... TYSON XL~!”
Tyson XL pumped a fist for the crowd then slashed a thumb across his throat before pointing right at Omega, letting him know that he was the next target. Omega took the threat with one of his own, gesturing that the title was going to be his.
The bell rang...
And Tyson XL immediately came charging at big Omega, taking down The Craziest Bastard in Wrestling.
RUNNING.
TWISTING.
SPEAR!
Tyson XL had the belt shot on his mind from last week and this could be considered a receipt for Omega's heinous actions from before. The crowd had seen lots of action-packed moves this evening, but none more than that explosive kickoff to this ACW World Heavyweight Title match.
Omega was floored and didn't see the move coming, which was why Tyson XL was right on the attack ramming a series of right hands into the head of Omega in an attempt to badly hurt him as quickly as possible. He'd come face to face with Omega in the past as a member of the Night Life, but both men had grown since then.
Tyson grabbed Omega and threw a pair of well-placed elbows to the head as he tried getting to the corner to protect himself from the beating the champion was dishing out. Omega tried to get his arm up to block as many shots as he possibly could, but Tyson XL was coming in hard and fast and he continued to pummel him with every last blow trying to get Omega on the defensive, a position he was almost never in.
The referee had no choice but to get Tyson XL out of the corner in order to allow Omega a breather. Tyson XL begrudgingly agreed to the referee's request. He wasn't going to be a cheating paper champion that got by on disqualifying himself. Tyson XL returned to the corner, but Omega's amazing recuperative powers caught him by surprise. He was gripped by two big palms and tossed into the corner where Omega began to throw some hard shoulders into the stomach of the champion.
It was the champion's turn to try and go on the defensive as Omega unleashed hell upon him with a ferocious barrage of shots that had Tyson reeling. The elbows went flying next as Omega continued to blast him over and over and over again with some back elbows that continued to rock the ACW World Heavyweight Champion.
The referee had the enviable task of trying to separate the two monsters and he was met with a feral snarl from Omega, which made the referee jump in fear for his own well-being. Omega's attention went back to the champion, but Tyson XL had his chance to surprise Omega and threw Omega into the corner where it was now time for the kicks to start ringing out.
One, two, three shoulders blocks caught Omega in the chest and Tyson punctuated it with some more forearms before he took hold of Omega's arm and sent him flying into the opposite corner. Tyson pointed to the corner before he came running and caught him in the back of the head with a hard elbow. Omega was immobilized by the elbow to the face, but what came next popped the crowd (in terms of cheers) and Omega (in terms of having his face kicked in)
CCS ENZIGURI~!
The Craziest Bastard in Wrestling was in trouble early and Tyson XL waited for him to fall over before he tried to go for what would be the first pin in this hard-hitting match.
1...
2...
Omega still had a lot of fight left in him and actually powered out right after the second slap of the referee's hand. The #1 Contender was back on his feet and started to try and create some distance between he and the champion, but Tyson XL was all up in his rotting grill, clotheslining the giant right over the top rope and sending him out to the ringside area...
But in a downright scary, yet effective counter, Omega had landed on his feet on the outside. Tyson XL had no time to react when Omega grabbed hold of his leg and tripped the big guy before pulling him to the floor with him. Omega tried to swing, but it was a miss and Tyson made him pay for it with a kick to his massive rib cage.
The two men appeared to still be at a stalemate as they continued to wail on each other with fist after fist coming a-flying. Tyson XL was the first man with the advantage as he took Omega by the head and rammed his skull into the ring apron to try and disorient the #1 Contender. Omega got rocked with two more headshots into the ring apron. Looking punch-drunk Omega couldn't defend himself against Tyson XL when he grabbed him by the arm and whipped him hard into the steel steps on the outside.
The fans were one-hundred percent behind Tyson XL when the champion rolled back inside the ring to give himself a little bit of a breather. Omega had no idea where he was and didn't count on so much resistance from the champion, perhaps underestimating him a little bit. Whatever the case may be, Omega started to get back up and rolled back into the ring to prevent himself getting counted out.
Tyson XL was all over him like a hungry dog on raw meat as he elbowed Omega in the head a bunch of times before ringing him back. He climbed to the top rope while Omega was getting ready to try and get back to his feet. He had zero prep time, though, before Tyson XL came flying off the top rope and nearly massacring him with a flying missile dropkick!
The crowd was on their feet, being utterly amazed with the athleticism that he was throwing around as he came flying off the top rope with some grace. After big Omega went down, he went for the cover.
1...
2...
And again, it was very very close for Tyson XL, but Omega was too tough to keep down so early in the match and tossed Tyson XL right off him. The ACW World Heavyweight Champion meant business and stayed on the offensive as he continued to bat Omega upside his big skull several times in an attempt to wear him down even more. Tyson ran off the ropes and walked smack-dab into a boot to the chest. The glancing blow sent him back into the ropes but Tyson came back with a big time vengeance and cracked Omega with a stiff running lariat that actually got the big man off his feet for a third time in this bout. The fans were with Tyson every step of the way and he tried to finish the match off a third time.
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...No way!
Tyson never heard that third hand since Omega was still ticking even after taking a licking in the opening minutes. The champion stayed in the fight and tried slugging it out with The Craziest Bastard in Wrestling, but this seemed to only incense the giant as he came firing right back with two big right hands that had Tyson reeling.
Tyson came right on back though and delivered double the shots, four to be precise. He swung for the fences before he picked up Omega and was actually able to body slam the giant. Tyson gained some momentum by flying off the ropes and came down hard across the body of Omega with a back senton splash. He stayed on top and leaned back into another cover.
1...
2...
But Omega still wouldn't be denied and powered Tyson off him for the fourth time. He needed to get some momentum going in a very bad way since the match had been nearly all champion so far. Tyson turned around and lifted Omega back to his feet again, but Omega stopped him from his knees by delivering a hard right hand. From his knees he continued to pound away at Tyson's stomach before ending the combination with an uppercut that rocked him backwards.
That was exactly what the #1 Contender needed to get back in the game as he stood back to his full towering height of nearly seven feet and continued to pummel Tyson. The shots rang out loudly through the Acer Arena as he rattled Tyson. A head butt from Omega stunned him and gave him enough time to throw Tyson across the ring and into the corner.
Omega was on the opposite side of the ring and carefully took his time before he came charging right at Tyson, crushing the champion with a running corner splash. Tyson XL was now slumped over in the corner using the rope to try and carry himself up, but this left him wide open for a second assault from Omega who came charging at him with a spear in the corner.
Tyson was fair game now as Omega scooped him up and carried him to the corner where he dropped him face first onto the turnbuckle with a snake eyes. When he was dropped, Omega got himself some of his own momentum off the other ropes and nearly kicked Tyson's head off his shoulders. The fans gasped from the stiff shot and Omega finished off his sequence by dropping a big leg across Tyson's throat. He was easy pickings and that title was gonna be his now.
1...
2...
Right after the two-count, Tyson XL powered himself free and saved his title for at least this particular moment. Omega looked like he was having the time of his life now having the advantage and being able to dissect the champion for allegedly taking Barb from him.
Omega's reign of terror continued as he pulled Tyson up again and fired off a couple knees into his chest. He doubled Tyson over with a pair of clubbed giant blows to the small of his back before he tossed him into the corner. It was another charge with a back elbow and Tyson had no time to try and block it as Omega was too fast. Tyson was nearly out on his feet now as Omega raised a big hand into the sky, possibly calling for the chokeslam. He reached out and tried to goozle Tyson, but the champion was able to get both arms up and deny Omega the satisfaction of drilling him through the ring.
The two big men struggled in a clash of strength and both were almost evenly matched, but Omega kicked him in the chest. He threw Tyson's arm up and tried to seal the deal but Tyson fought back with every last elbow he could throw into the back of Omega's head to keep him from his intended goal.
Tyson went back with a flurry of offense, punching Omega in the head three times before attempting to throw him across the ring. He tried charging at him with a clothesline but Omega was able to duck. When he came back, Tyson was nearly crushed with a high impact clothesline courtesy of the Craziest Bastard in Wrestling. Tyson was nearly out cold when Omega tried to go for the pin and become the Craziest Champion...ship Bastard in Wrestling...
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2...
And it was sooooo close, he could taste that title. Unfortunately, Tyson wasn't about to relinquish it and still kicked out to the delight of the fans in attendance. Omega just stared blankly at the referee with his good eye before turning back to Tyson and picking him up. He casually tossed Tyson through the ropes and sent the ACW Champion out to the floor.
Taking the fight now into an element a little more familiar to the two-time Scorpion Champion, Omega took hold of Tyson by the back of his head and rammed his face into the same steel steps that Omega himself had been introduced to previously. He dropped him into the steps a couple more times and rolled him underneath the bottom rope, but left Tyson's head exposed just over the ring apron.
With bad intentions in mind, Omega got himself some room and charged forward, kicking Tyson XL square in the temple. The shot was very nasty and echoed loudly through the Acer Arena again. He charged back a few feet and walked forward again, delivering a charging elbow that caught Tyson right in the face.
Omega reset the count by rolling in and out of the ring, and then climbed the steps to get back on the ring apron. With Tyson XL at his mercy, he looked out into the crowd and slashed a thumb across his throat before he came running and tried for a big leg drop across the throat that would hurt more across the ring apron...
Tyson moved!
And Omega's leg hit nothing but the apron. And it being the hardest part of the actual ring, it did a number on The Crazy Bastard's leg as he went hobbling on the outside, holding the ligament in pain.
Tyson XL was back in the ring now and shook out the cobwebs as he continued to get back up. He looked out into the crowd and smiled, seeing an opportunity for him to shine. He bounced off the ring ropes and came charging right at Omega...
ELBOW SUICIDA THROUGH THE ROPES~!
Tyson didn't know how he pulled it off, but he managed to just barely fit between the ropes and threw all his body weight into a hard elbow that took both champion and challenger down! The crowd was in a frenzy just seeing their world champion do another incredible move for someone his size. The ref saw that both men were down and started the ten count on the outside of the ring.
1…
2…
3…
4…
5…
The fans in attendance went crazy trying to get Tyson up to his feet because they didn’t want the match to end this way. The ref looked on as the two men started to stir but he knew he had to finish the count.
6…
7…
8…
Both men made it to their feet and rolled into the ring at the same time. The ref stopped the count and the fans went crazy. Both men were exhausted but they knew that they had to give it their everything because this was for the ACW World Heavyweight Championship. Tyson XL grabbed Omega by the head but the crazed man shoved the champion away and nailed him with a big right hand. Tyson wasn’t going to be outdone as he retaliated with a big right hand himself. The two men exchanged big rights in the middle of the ring. Tyson XL seemed to get an little advantage as he was moving Omega back to the ropes.
Tyson XL grabbed Omega by his arm and whipped him into the ropes. Omega bounced off the ropes as Tyson XL came rushing in with a clothesline that the challenger ducked. Tyson quickly turned around and was caught with a quick snap powerslam from Omega. The challenger did not make a cover. Instead he grabbed the champion by his head and pushed him back to the corner. Omega picked Tyson XL up and sat him on the top rope showing his uncanny strength.
Omega nailed Tyson with a big uppercut that rocked the champion’s head back on the top rope. He staggered a little bit but did not fall off the top as the fans looked on, gasping as his head went backwards. Omega started to climb to the top rope with Tyson XL. He hooked the champion in a front chancery and lifted Tyson off the top rope. What happened next were two humungous forces hitting the canvas very hard. The ring shook with the weight of almost seven hundred pounds crashing down.
Omega was going to go all out to hurt Tyson XL for taking Barb. The challenger grabbed his head as he screamed.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! MORE PAIN!!!”
Omega slowly made it to his feet as he looked down at the champion who was not moving. The two time [ Black ] Scorpion Champion looked at the corner again. He slowly walked over to the corner and started to climb to the top rope. This was a place that Omega was not often seen to go. It was a championship match so it was all or nothing. The craziest bastard in wrestling climbed to the top rope and looked out to the jeering crowd. Omega dove off the top rope and nailed Tyson XL in the shoulder with a flying head butt. The challenger held his head after the impact. He slowly moved over for the cover on Tyson.
1…
2…
3.. NOOOOOO!!! TYSON KICKED OUT!!
UN-FREAKIN-BELIEVABLE!!!
Omega sat up and looked around the arena as the crowd was going ballistic because their champion was still in this match. It was incredible to see these two big bulls going toe to toe. Omega slammed his fist on the mat as he stood to his feet. He moved into the corner as he motioned for Tyson XL to get to his feet. The champion started to stir as the fans started to chant his name.
TY-SON!! TY-SON!! TY-SON!! TY-SON!! TY-SON!!
The champ grabbed the middle rope and started to pull himself up to the delight of the crowd. He continued to pull up each rung of the ring rope until he finally stood on both feet. With his back facing Omega who was seething in the corner for Tyson to turn around. The champion finally turned around as Omega bolted out of the corner toward Tyson XL. Omega tried to spear Tyson in the corner but the champion showed his agility and leapfrogged the challenger. The craziest bastard in wrestling went full force into the corner ring post. The impact was so great that the ring actually moved.
Omega pulled himself from the corner and he looked to have maybe dislocated his right shoulder. The champion was still trying to gather himself as Omega continued to hold his shoulder. Tyson XL saw his opportunity and grabbed Omega by his right arm and sent him to the mat with a simple arm drag. Even though the move was simple it put the challenger in excruciating pain because of his shoulder possibly being dislocated.
Tyson picked up Omega and dropped him to the mat with a scoop slam on his injured shoulder. Omega rolled over trying to hold his arm which was hanging to his side. The champion went to grab for Omega again who kicked the champion in his chest to send him backwards for a second. The champion quickly pounced on the challenger and drove a few right hands into Omega’s temple on the mat. Omega pushed the champion off of him but Tyson came back once again.
Omega quickly grabbed Tyson XL and sent him face first into the second turnbuckle. Both of these big men looked gassed as this huge world title match continued. Omega made his way to the corner and stood to his feet. The crazed man took his right shoulder and rammed it into the top turnbuckle several times. Omega was trying to pop that shoulder back into its socket. The last hit must have did it as Omega was not holding his arm down by his side anymore.
The champion was now up as he rammed a shoulder into Omega’s midsection in the corner. He did it again several more times before pulling the challenger from the corner. He hooked Omega and drove him down to the mat with a big belly to belly suplex. The champ looked at Omega who was starting to make it to one knee. Tyson XL ran off the ropes and nailed Omega.
MODIFIED SHINING WIZARD TO THE RIGHT SHOULDER
Tyson XL went for the cover on Omega.
1…
2…
3NO!!
KICKOUT BY OMEGA!!
The arena gasped as Tyson XL held his head not knowing what else he could do to keep this crazed man to the mat. Tyson XL stood to his feet looking out into the arena as to ask what next. But the champ knew what he wanted to do next as he grabbed Omega by the head and whipped him into the ropes. However, Omega held on and reversed the move himself. Tyson XL came off the ropes and was nailed by a big kick to the jaw by Omega. The challenger was not done as he pulled Tyson XL off the mat by one hand. He wrapped his massive hand around the champ’s neck and hoisted him high the air.
The fans in the arena grew silent as they witnessed Omega’s freakish strength, lifting a three hundred plus pound man high in the air with one arm.
CHOKESLAM WITH FORCE
The crowd jeered the challenger as he smirked before hooking the champ’s leg for the cover. The ref dropped down for the count.
1…
2…
3.. NEW CHAMP!! NOOOOOOO!!! THE REF SAID TYSON XL GOT HIS ARM UP!!
Omega is beside himself as he thought he had won the match. The ref was trying to explain to Omega that Tyson XL got his left shoulder off the mat. The challenger grabbed the ref by the shirt as he was screaming in his face that he won the match. Tyson XL was trying to get to his feet as Omega let the ref go. The challenger saw Tyson getting to his feet from the corner of his eye. Omega turned around and went for a boot to the temple of the champ but Tyson moved out of the way and nailed Omega with a few forearm blows to the back of Omega’s head.
Tyson hooked Omega by the head and drove him to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker. Tyson grabbed the back of his head and climbed to the second rope. Omega finally got to his feet and turned to the corner where Tyson was and took a big flying clothesline from the champ. Tyson quickly went for the cover on Omega.
1…
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NO!!! ANOTHER KICKOUT!!
Tyson shook his head again as the crowd’s cheers went to anguish again as the craziest bastard in wrestling continued to keep getting back up. Tyson XL made it to his feet as he reached down and grabbed Omega as he stood. He sent Omega crashing into the corner. Tyson raced to the other corner setting himself up for something. He ran across the ring and nailed Omega with the cartwheel splash that got a huge roar from the crowd. Tyson XL bounced off the ropes and dropped his three hundred plus pound frame on Omega’s chest with a back senton splash.
Tyson knew he had to do more to keep this man down as he bounced off the ropes and nailed Omega with another back senton splash. He was trying to take the air out of Omega’s lungs. The champ knew this was all or nothing. Tyson XL saw that Omega was still down on the mat. Tyson XL picked up Omega and hooked him.
XL BOMB!!! XL BOMB!!! XL BOMB!!!
The champ nailed the challenger with that vicious falling gutwrench powerbomb. The fans went crazy again as Tyson XL gasping for air after picking the big man up. He slowing rolled over for the cover on Omega.
1…
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3… NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
WTF!!!!!!!!!
Tyson looked shocked. The fans looked shocked. Hell even the ref looked shocked. Omega had done the impossible and that was to kick out of the XL Bomb. A move that has put wrestlers on the shelf from its impact. But the craziest bastard in wrestling just kicked out of the move. The fans were spent. Tyson XL was spent. Omega was spent. I am sure the viewers at home are spent to watching this epic encounter.
Tyson had to think what was left to do. He pulled out the kitchen sink against Omega and the man kept coming. Tyson XL got to his feet seeing Omega still down. The champ climbed to the top rope. He quickly looked back to see where Omega was before leaping off the top.
CRUSH GROOVE
The champion nailed his moonsault from the top on Omega. All three hundred plus pounds came crashing down on the top of the challenger. The ref dropped down for the count.
1…
2…
FOOT ON THE ROPES BY OMEGA!! 3…
The ref jumped up and called for the bell. The ref grabbed the champion’s hand and raised it high for everyone to see. Tyson XL did it. He retained the ACW World Heavyweight Championship against Omega. Tyson XL was handed his world title from the ref as he held his arms in the air after a long battle. He rolled out of the ring not noticing that Omega had his foot on the bottom rope before the three count. Tyson XL celebrated with the fans ringside as the ref checked on Omega in the ring.
Tyson XL made it to the stage and held the title high up in the air to the delight of the screaming fans. Their champion, their hero defeated all odds and still was the ACW World Heavyweight Champion.
Or was he?
WINNER: Tyson XL via pinfall; retaining the ACW World Heavyweight Championship
Aftermath
Tyson XL had made his way to the backstage area as the ref continued to check on Omega who now was grabbing the ref by the throat from his back. The big man made his way to his feet still with his massive hand around the ref’s neck. The fans started to boo the craziest bastard in wrestling. Omega continued to point to his foot and the rope, while the ref was shaking his head saying he didn’t see it.
Omega was pissed as he picked the ref up and drove him into the mat with a thunderous chokeslam. The ACW officials and referees came rushing to the ring to get the mad man out of the ring. Omega started to rip the turnbuckles apart, trying to pull the ring ropes down. He was not going to stop as the officials tried to calm the monster down.
Omega rolled to the floor and looked under the ring. The officials tried to pull the ref out of the ring as Omega grabbed a lead pipe. The finally was able to pull the ref out before Omega could use that lead pipe. Omega grabbed a microphone before rolling back into the ring.
“Tyson this is not over. Tonight you felt the most you have ever felt in your life and you can bet that we will make you suffer more. You think tonight was all about the World Title, no tonight was about you suffering for taking our Barb from us.”
“Omega… Omega…”
The ACW-tron suddenly it up and Andy Sharp was seen on the tron. The fans popped for the man who beat TAG earlier in the night.
“What do you want Andrew?” Omega spouted with venomous rage.
“I know you are upset about the outcome of the match but you really need to understand that Tyson had nothing to do with taking Barb from you.”
Omega paced around the ring looking at the tron.
“Calm down Omega, let’s see what Sharp has to say.” Omega suddenly spoke in a monotone voice.
Everyone looked around as Omega leaned on the top rope staring at the tron. “How do you know this Andrew?”
“I know because I have proof.” The fans erupted in cheers as Andy continued to look into the camera. “The person that actually took Barb did not know that there was a hidden camera in the locker room area that night. This person tried to frame Tyson XL and wanted to manipulate you, Omega.”
Omega still not convince looked on. “If you have proof Andrew, show us.”
“No problem. Mike cue up the footage.” Andy said as the ACW-tron started to show backstage footage that happened a month ago. The camera showed a man in all black with two other men carrying Barb into Tyson’s locker room. The man took the barbed wire wrapped steel chair and hid it in Tyson’s closet. The man grab an index card and pen and started to write.
“This should put that turncoat down for betraying me. He will get what he deserves after Omega maims him.” The man laughed. “I get to kill two birds with one stone. Have both of these men kill each other and then I will become the ACW World Heavyweight Champion.”
The man pulled back his mask and showed the hidden camera who he was. The man that had framed Tyson XL and manipulated Omega was none other than…
TAG – THE LEADER OF THE NIGHT LIFE
I think all hell is going to break loose right now.
The camera faded out to the smile of the Night Life’s fearless leader.
PPV: REVIVAL
Recorded LIVE! From the Acer Arena in Sydney, Australia
