- - [July 27th 2003] - -
Broadcasting LIVE! from Cleveland, OH at 10/9 p.m. CT

PREVIOUSLY... As the ACW roster plods along the wrestling roadmap every week, conditions seem to become more dire as the days go by. As a new ACW World Champion is within weeks of his coronation, so is his first opponent waiting in the wings in the King Of Ages tournament. As all this goes on, financial discrepancies loom around ACW as Dunn and the rest of the ACW team try to come up with measures to save the company for the future, but it seems like only one man will be able to solve their problems...

A Stormy Past?

A vintage black Rolls Royce rolled up to the entranceway of the arena, as the fans who were unfortunate enough to not get a ticket for the show watched on at a huge barricade on the outskirts of the car park. The driver quickly stopped and was sharply out of the vehicle, as he tended to the needs of his customer my opening the door and leading the way.

Brian Carter stepped out and adjusted his Armani suit before making his way into the arena. He was the only major investor left in the company, and even though his presence was not expected tonight by Dunn and the rest, it was welcome, because Carter had told Dunn earlier in the week that he had found a solution to ACW's problems.

Carter waited as his name was checked off in the security check, as his name was put in by Dunn earlier in the day just on the off chance of him appearing, but as Carter entered the empty hall way, an ACW superstar leaned against the wall in front of him, Carter did not seem uneasy however, as he moved closer.

K e l l e r

"If it isn't Mr. Moneybags himself, say, how does it feel to be saving one of the shittiest federations in the World?"

Keller pushed himself off the wall and stood right infront of Carter with his massive arms folded. Carter wasn't intimidated however, as he looked up at the former aWc and New Japan star.

"Mr. Keller, if you don't find your contract to your satisfaction, you can always shut up shop and go somewhere else?"

Keller smirked.

"You know, for once, old HAWK was right about something, you're a shifty character if I do say so..."

"Is that right?" Carter started to walk down the hall, in a "I don't have time for this" type manner.

"Indeed, but the thing is, I know where you came from."

Carter stopped.

"What did you say?" Carter slowly turned around as he looked at Keller, whom had a very large smile on his face.

"I said, I know where you came from. I know who you are and what you've done, I have to give you credit, you've re-invented yourself quite a bit, but I can still see those little beady eyes that I saw nine or so years ago."

Carter pounded on Keller as he took him by the scruff of the neck and trusted him towards the wall. Carter was a rather large man, but it seemed that Keller was in the better shape, as he fought back and pushed Carter against the opposite wall.

"That's twice one of you staff fuckers have put their hands on me, and it will be the last!" Keller screamed as suddenly Dunn and HAWK appeared on the scene.

"Keller, put let him go now!" Dunn screamed as HAWK pulled Keller off of the ACW money man. "Who the hell do you think you are Keller? Uh? You may have an iron clad contract, but I can make you sit on your ass for the rest of your life if you pull a stunt like that ever again!"

Keller flicked HAWK's hands off him as Carter breathed deeply, and with a deep growl, Keller left the scene back into the arena, as HAWK and Dunn attended to Carter.

"What happened?" HAWK said, as Carter loosened his tie for some air.

"I dunno, he just attacked me for no reason."

The Search #1 [RECORDED 7.25.03]

The streets of Atlanta...just like the streets of any other city at 11 o’clock in the night. There was five of them, cameraman included, walking the streets this eve. With three dressed in white, one in black, they were immediately recognizable...Alexi Volstein, Christoph Volstein, Cael, and Randall. The street they currently inhabited was empty and lit only by a few window lights, here and there. It was a muggy, dark night but it didn’t stop the gentlemen from wearing their usual “trench coat attire.” The four men conversed with one another in very serious tones, which showed they were obviously out for business purposes. 

They stopped in front of a large, brick apartment. The apartment was a two-story building, decorated with a vine running up its side. The top floor’s windows were not lit due to sheets hanging in them to secure privacy. It being 11 o’clock at night, the first floor’s windows were not lit either. 

Alexi looked down at the piece of paper that he was carrying, and the glanced at the numbers next to the door. “54...” The other three looked at Alexi who was making sure the numbers corresponded. “This is it.”

Christoph nodded to Cael and Randall who then made their way up the concrete steps to the door. The door they faced led to the first floor residence with the door in the back leading up to the second. They knocked, but no one answered. After about a minute, they tried again with the same result.

They looked back at Alexi who simply said, “keep trying.” They did just that.

After a few more attempts, someone finally answered the door. The man standing in front of Cael and Randall was a black man that didn’t stand that much shorter than ‘The Twins.’ 

Rubbing his eyes, he shouted at the two, “What you crackas want!?” He reached down and grabbed a pair of pants on the floor and clothed himself.

Alexi strolled up the steps and motioned for Cael and Randall to drop back. The man noticed the cameraman and seemed extremely confused. “Like I said, cracka. What y’all want?”

Alexi played a roll, “my name is John Garrison, I’m with the United States government.”

The man retorted, “then why you gots a German accent?”

Alexi smiled and responded, “I’m German-American. Now, back to business, I’m--”

The man fell into a panic, “IT’S NOT MINE I SWEAR! I FOUND THE THING ON MY FUCKING DOORSTEP! I DIDN’T DO SHIT!” He tried slamming the door in Alexi’s face but Alexi’s foot stopped it.

“Now,” Alexi began. “I do not know what you are talking about. But whatever it is, it does not concern me.”

The man let out a deep sigh, chuckled, but then went into a confused anger. “It’s 11 o’clock, mother fucker. What you doing here?”

Alexi holds a picture of two older persons in front of the man’s face. “These people, I was told they live in Atlanta, do you know where they are?”

The man examines the photo, “hmmm...” After looking the photo up and down and thinking, he gave Alexi an answer. “Atlanta’s a big fucking city, cracka. What would make you think I know these white folk?”

Alexi responded, “we were informed you know a Dante Inferno.”

“Yeah, I know that name. That’s the wrestling alias of a dude whose car I tricked out, man. We still talk now and again.” The man said. 

“These are his parents, Mr. Boden. Do you know where they live?” Alexi asked as Christoph, Cael, and Randall were getting quite impatient.

The man laughed at Alexi. “Shit, it ain’t like we’re friends. Why the fuck would I know where his parents are? Hahaha.” Alexi didn’t find the man all that funny. “And you work for the government? Fuck, what has America come to? Hiring a buncha dumb fucks like you.”

It was clear Alexi had had enough. He walked back down the steps and whispered something into Cael’s ear. Alexi turned back Mr. Boden and said with a smile, “you might want to get broken window fixed.”

The man looked confused, “what broken window?”

Cael reached down and felt around against the sidewalk. Wedged between a car tire and the curb was a very large rock. Cael picked up and hurled it at the building. It smashed the entire window and sent the man into an uproar as the group walked off.

Mind Games I

Hillary Small. 

Small by name, big by nature. 

Last week at Courage the Mountain Troll made a vow to gain revenge on her nemesis Forme Carlos, who cost Hillary her match against Jade Greene at Glory. Since then nothing had come to fruition, but tonight – Hillary’s cunning plan would unfold. Or so she hoped. 

Small walked through the corridors of ACW, having only just arrived, with her gym bag slung casually over her shoulder. Her jet-black hair was no longer greasy; her appearance was no longer one of a tramp. It was obvious to even the dumbest of people that Hillary Smalls’s morale had improved a great deal in the past week. She strode confidently, her unforgiving face sticking to its usual pose. 

A stone cold, menacing frown. 

As she passed several wrestlers lockers, she came to a halt outside her own. Despise the slowly easing financial woes of ACW; maintenance had still not been performed on Hillary’s locker. And so, instead, she was forced to enter the door by kicking it open, as there was no other means of entry. She sat down on the wooden bench, its metal legs rusting more and more by the day. She removed her gym bag from her shoulder and placed it beside her, unzipping the metallic zip and peering inside to check the contents. She murmured to herself and nodded, before delving her claw-like hand into her belongings. 

Usually, Hillary Small goes about intimidating her opponents by attacking them. Up until now, all Hillary Small had done to her enemies is attack them. But Forme Carlos was unique. A special case. Hillary’s run would not be broken…she would still attack him. But the first step would be to destroy him mentally. 

And, usually, Hillary Smalls gym bag contained nothing but worthless belongings….mementos, identification, and toiletries – among them deodorant, which was not as necessary as it had been last week. But, as I said, Forme Carlos was unique. 

Hillary’s method of mentally intimidating him lay at the bottom of her gym bag, an item which had cost her all of her weekly wages. 

Cocaine. 

You see, in the last week Hillary Small had been doing her research. She had discovered Forme was a former drug addict. And now she was ready to take advantage. 

The Treacherous Troll emptied her bag of some of her belongings, unable to spot the item of so much value. Or should I say substance. But then she spotted it, and within seconds the cocaine was in the light, the beaming bulb above shining persistently. She clutched it with two hands, as her eyes glowed. 

Then….

Suddenly…

Something appeared which we had never seen before. Something appeared which many had rated was as likely to happen as Bobby Knickerson dying live on ACWTV. But shit, that happened, it was only a matter of time until this happened.

Hillary Small, the 6’8, three hundred and twenty three pounder….smiled. 

It Has Just Begun



Vince Jacobs and Osyrus had only begun the mind games on each other. They were both two of the most hated men in ACW. Last week the two men tried to one up each other, as Isis wanted blood for what happened between her and Vince. Vince wanted an explanation from Osyrus for his attack on him at Glory. 

The games had begun as the fans saw an inkling of confrontation from the two men as Vince waited in the ring for Osyrus. The two men threw a few blows to each other until the security guards broke up the confrontation. This was the first of many more confrontations between SVJ and Osyrus.

The door suddenly swung open and ‘Superstar’ Vince Jacobs walked in with a gym bag over his left shoulder. Vince was ready for tonight’s action, as he had to face the Television Champion in the next round of the King of Ages Tournament. Vince had been feeling pretty good this week especially after his surprised appearance at hWo’s Gruesome Gamez pay-per-view where he attacked his archenemy Alias after his match against hWo’s Tommy Kane.

Vince had a big smile across his face as he walked to his dressing room. Everything was going right for him…. Next round of the King of Ages Tournament….. Getting Osyrus…… And as an added bonus beating the hell out of Chris Sheffield outside of ACW on another promotion’s pay-per-view.

Vince strolled toward his dressing room down the hall. He walked to his room and saw an envelope taped to the door. Vince opened the envelope and read the note.

You know... your right Vince, this is far from over. 

This is far from ever being over. 

Don't bother looking over your shoulder though.... because I'm not there. 

Yet."

Signed,

Chris

Vince smirked as he balled the note up and slung it over his shoulder. 

“About time Chris grew a set.” Vince said as he turned the knob to his dressing room

“Hopefully Osyrus will be able to grow a set now.” Vince said as he smiled while shutting the door to his dressing room

History Lesson

As Dunn walked around the back after the Keller scuffle, he turned the corner to find Dante Inferno looking at the huge match board in the middle of the main hallway. The ACW United States Champion dropped his belt to the floor as he took a moment to think about his match-up, with none other than Jade Green.

The two had a fair bit of history, mainly based around Inferno's feud with current World Title contender Jason Kain, but it was Jade whom was in the middle of the battle, as Inferno kidnapped her, and held her to ransom to try and play with Kain's mind, which worked a treat.

"Decent draw huh?" the ACW Owner said with a small smile on his face, he knew that it was going to be a tense match up to say the least, that's why he booked it. "It's the luck of the draw I'm afraid, Hamish said that he couldn't continue after his concussion last week, so we put you forward to the next round, I know you and Jade have history, but you both know what is at stake don't you?"

Inferno nodded.

"Ok then, good luck tonight."

"Thanks..."

Inferno never took his eyes off the board as he wiped his head with the back of his hand, before bending down to pick up his US Title, only to hear the scuffle to a pair of feet stand in his way. Inferno clocked up the man from his boots to his chest, before a small smirk came across his face, as he looked into the eyes of a man whom many would call his arch nemesis in the past, but things had changed immensely for the duo, so nobody knew what was going to happen.

"Evening Kain." Dante said as he looked down into the eyes of the former uKw Champion, as the duo locked eyes for around 5 seconds, the arena began to quake at the thought of Inferno/Kain version three. Instead, Kain looked at the board, clocking Jade's opponent for the night, before looking right back at the ACW United States Champion.

"Meh." Kain looked at him, half expecting him to get into a fight right off the bat. "I see you're facing Jade tonight." 

Kain looked at the board again, staring down the match specifically. Then looked back at Dante. A smirk drew across his face for a brief moment, a passing though of screwing Dante out of the match... then the thought was retracted. 

"Good luck." Kain stammered while putting out a hand. Dante looked down a bit shocked by the motion. Kain emphasized the gesture, then waited...

Dante grabbed Kain's hand, slightly amazed that Kain would even draw up the courage for such a gesture... then realized he was dealing with a totally different man than just months before. 

But suddenly Kain's hand went rigid, as he pulled Dante in close. 

"You may think that she's not my problem anymore, Dante... But if you dent a fuckin' feature on her pretty face, so help me God, when I become the next ACW World Champ, I'll be BEGGING, y'hear me, BEGGING for you to win the King Of Ages tournament, so I can lay your teeth in your gullet." Kain stepped back and let go of the hand. He started to walk away from Dante, then stopped and turned around. He looked at Dante, with a small smirk. 

"Dante, we still have unfinished business between you and I... So don't think that this little gesture of friendship wasn't half-assed... because personally... You couldn't kick my ass if the other half was helping you." Kain laughed. 

Dante knew that the little man was bluffing. But Kain didn't seem to be backing down from his statement. And Dante smirked. 

"You have my respect Kain, and it's as much as a man like myself can give another. Good luck in your match tonight, and I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon...as I will be the #1 contender for your World Title."

Kain smiled.

"You got that shit right."

As the duo parted ways, it seemed metaphorical as they had truly gone in different directions over recent times, but it was still unknown whether the hands of fate was steering the duo in the same direction, only for their paths to cross for the biggest prize in the company...and a final resolve to one of the most intriguing feuds in ACW history.

King Of Ages Tournament Match - Round One
Osyrus Vs. Andi Kole

  

As ACW came back from commercial break; Andi Kole stood in the ring pacing. He became more and more impatient… like a caged animal. Clawing and snorting; waiting for his opportunity at a chance for the world title. That is if he could win the whole tourney, even defeating his opponent for tonight… 

I’ll put a hole in a nigga for fucking with me. 
My back on the wall; now you gonna see. 
Better watch how you talk, when you talk about me… 
Cuz I’ll come and take your life away.

’Many Men’ performed by 50 Cent interrupted the silence. And on cue; Osyrus and Isis stepped from behind the black curtain that led backstage. They made their way to the ring; Isis was a few steps ahead as she pointed back, while Osyrus bounced rhythmically in the entrance way. Black hoodie still covering his head as he jogged to the base of the ring; before Osyrus hopped onto the apron, entering the ring quickly. Kole didn’t waste any time rushing the former ACW champion.. hitting Osyrus with forearm shots; then tried to whip him across to the other side, but Osyrus reversed mid ring. 

Kole ricocheted back with decent speed; extending his arm out.. he looked to clothesline Osyrus to the canvas, but Osyrus ducked under Kole’s right arm… wrapped his arms around Kole’s waist, and sent him flying through the air with a release German suplex. The wicked back bump shook the ring as Kole rolled to his right side; to get back in the game, but was taken down again with a charging back elbow smash. Kole slide out of the ring to stop Osyrus’ momentum; the ref kept him at bay while Andi tried to gather his wits. Osyrus moved forward as the ref pushed back; demanding that a disqualification would end Osyrus’ title hunt. 

The ref started the ten count on Kole. Already on the number five as Osyrus waited in the far corner crouching; while Andi Kole, one half of the Kole Brothers walked up the metal steps. 

”Come on. I don’t have all day, kid.” Osyrus bellowed from across the ring; Kole only replied with a flick of his middle finger… one leg was already inside the squared circle. When lifting the other leg in; Kole had a little trouble. It wasn’t that it was hurt or anything… it was due to the fact that Isis ducked near the bottom of the apron, holding tightly on Kole’s ankle. He tried to kick her off; but the distraction paid dividends to the fullest extend as Osyrus swarmed on him in seconds. 

A hard clothesline to the back almost rocked Kole off of the apron, but Osyrus kept him on the outside of the ring… under hooking the left arm as Osyrus hip tossed Kole in the center of the ring with a thud. The ACW Bad Ass floated over the top of his opponent’s shoulders… pinning Kole to the mat with his forearm draped across his face. 

“One… Two,” The ref yelled out loud as the fans counted in unison, yelling two when Kole kicked out. Osyrus jumped to his feet smirking; he took his time as he waited for the young superstar to get back up… pushing him back down with the heel of his boot; extending his arms as if this match wasn’t even going to be a challenge. Osyrus stopped with the mind games as he reached down; pulling Kole up by his neck, but got punches to the stomach instead. 

Kole’s intensity rose as the flurry increased. The fans started to get behind Kole; now on his feet, but still delivering overhand rights to the pierced right eyebrow on Osyrus’ face Andi Kole grabbed Osyrus’ right wrist with both of his hands as he whipped him across the ropes, following up with clotheslines every time Osyrus hit the canvas… then got back up quickly. He slide to the outside; ignoring Kole’s attempt to call him back into the ring as Osyrus walked half way up the entrance way. 

”One…Two… Three… Four… Five,” The count was still going on as the fans made sure Osyrus knew how many more seconds he had; before he would be counted out. Christensen rose both of his arms into the air; capped off with two middle fingers directed at the audience. He didn’t care what the count was… Osyrus would enter the ring when he was good and ready. In fact; he loved that they hated him with an undying passion… and he would do what ever it took to stay under their skin like an infection. Osyrus entered the ring finally as he separated the ropes; pretending to enter, but stayed on the apron. Kole rushed him again as he did in the beginning of the contest… connecting with Osyrus’ knee. 

Rather the right knee of Osyrus connected with him as he doubled over; being taken to the canvas with a side head lock. Kole was stomach first on the mat, reaching and searching for an escape. Inching up on both of his knees; while the head lock wrenched his neck severely. Kole wrapped his arms around Osyrus’ waist… he rolled to his right; where he pinned Osyrus’ shoulders to the mat… but ‘the personification of talent’ escaped easily, as he laughed when both men returned to the position they were seconds ago. This continued for several minutes, every time Kole counted the head lock.. and Osyrus reversed it back. The fans began to get agitated; throwing garbage toward the ring, in addition to the verbal insults for ACW’s favorite wrestler… as Osyrus rubbing Kole’s head furiously, roaring out loud with a maniacal laughter. 

No one could believe what they just saw. The atomic noggie had just been applied. 

But the fun and games had ended once he stepped through the curtain. Separating the curtain with the black steel chair in one hand; and his CWL world title in the other. A mixture of jeers and cheers erupted as ‘Superstar’ Vince Jacobs made his way to the ring. Osyrus released Kole; pushing his face into the mat, then he slide out of the ring as both men were face to face. The tension was building… both men could be seen nose to nose as they continued talking to each other as referees ran from the back and tried to separate both men. Osyrus back pleaded toward the ring; spitting in Jacobs’ direction, so Vince knew exactly what he thought about him. 

WHAM

Osyrus walked right into a drop kick through the ropes from Kole. Both feet aimed squared at the bridge of the nose; and Kole wasn’t done as he rammed Osyrus’ shoulder into the metal steps. Kole slide back into the ring to avoid the ten count; Jacobs laughed and pointed at Osyrus… pushing the refs out of his way, so he could get close enough to taunt. ”Are you going to let a rookie do that to you Osyrus,”: stopping in mid sentence as he bent over in laughter. 

The former champ rose to a knee; he wiped the sweat from his brow as he growled angrily back into the ring. 

“NO!” 

Whether Jacobs knew it or not.. he had just helped Osyrus get the motivation he needed. Kole tried to get back on a roll; but was stopped in his tracks by a thunderous uppercut to the bread basket. He bent over and coughed violently; when Osyrus struck him again with a knee lift to his temple, followed by a two more blows with the point of the knee as Osyrus grabbed the back of Kole’s head. “Trying to embarrass me huh?” Osyrus stopped talking only to head butt Andi in the face repeatedly, until Andi’s own blood gushed from his nose then ran down Kole’s chest like paint. Osyrus glared in Jacobs’ direction while Kole’s blood was in the middle of his forehead. He let him go… Kole fell to the canvas like dead weight as Osyrus’ attention shifted to Jacobs, who slowly moved away from the ring. That brought a brief smirk to Osyrus’ face before he frowned once again; lifting Kole to his feet with his left arm… now attacking the lower body with fierce body jabs to the ribs, which echoed around the arena upon impact. Kole grimaced as he tried to hold on… even during the times when the ref asked if he wanted to give up. Refused to quit. He refused to say die. 

”What the point of this Osyrus? It’s me you want. Not him.” Osyrus still continued the assault; now opening his palm so his fist wouldn’t get tired… before he dropped his arm to his side slowly. “You’re right Jacobs; you’re absolutely right. This rookie isn’t you. He is not the last CWL champion. He’s not the ACW world champion. So why am I wasting my effort.” Common sense finally donned on Osyrus while his grip around Kole’s throat. 

“But I am going to send a message to you through him Jacobs. From this moment forward… all of the lives in ACW, are on your head.” Osyrus scooped Kole onto his shoulder with a reverse fireman’s carry, walking around the ring before snapping him over legs first; then Osyrus spiked Kole’s neck into the ground with Oblivion. 

Andi Kole received a serious case of whiplash as he laid face down on the canvas. Osyrus didn’t even go for the cover as he laid in the nearby corner… not once taking his eyes off of Jacobs; who back pleaded smirking up the entrance ramp. 

1… 


2… 


3… 


4… 


5… 


6… 


7… 


8… 


9… 

10! 

The referee had counted Kole out after he administered the ten count. Bull shit chants filled the venue after the terrible ending of the match; while Osyrus left the ring… blood on the canvas and blood in the middle of his face. That didn’t belong to him. Isis and Osyrus disappeared behind the curtain; but the fans had a strange feeling that it wouldn’t be the last time they would hear from Osyrus, Isis or SVJ. 

Winner: Osyrus

What Do You Mean?!?

“Mama! I have a match!!!” El Emenopi jumped around his Janitor’s closet with a huge smile on his face. “Si mama! I’m a wrestler again! My dream is coming to fruition! Si mama, I’ve been taking Eeenglish lessons… and my diction is getting better by the dia.”

El stopped and was listening to the pay phone intently.

“Que? Ah… you want to know who I’m facing. Well… this weird guy named Vincent Pembridge put out an open challenge for a shot at his Scorpion Fighting title.” El stopped for a moment. “Si… I took that challenge! SilverHAWK wouldn’t let me in the ring for a normal match… but an open challenge… ANYONE can take it….”

He paused for a moment as suddenly the phone started wailing sadly.

“Como? What do you mean I’m going to die?” El sputtered. “He keeled somebody? No, no, no… you must be mistaken.”

He paused again, as his smile disappeared.

“What do you mean, ‘the end of the last show’… Of course I missed it. I had to clean the bathrooms.” El’s face turned frightened. “Bobby Knickerson’s dead?!? But… he wasn’t dead after his match… HE HIT HIM WITH A WHAT!?!?!?”

Suddenly his phone went dead. All the power in the room went out… so the little 20 watt lightbulb stopped giving it’s dim glow, and all was dark. El tripped over something in the room, then opened the door…

“Aye, de mi… what has El Emenopi gotten himself eeentoo…”

Mind Games II

Damn, she was becoming an expert at this. 

For the second time in half an hour Hillary Small kicked open a locker room door. Except this time, the locker room belonged to her rival Forme Carlos and technically, was not hers to open. She strode in (still grinning might I add), and held the transparent bag which contained the substance. 

She looked behind her shoulder, to see if anyone was walking by. Slowly, but surely, she bent down and placed the small bag on the floor, in the middle of Carlos’ locker room. Her next move was to take a note from her deep pockets, a note which was intended to lure Forme just that little bit more. 

With that, she exited, everything in position – everything going according to plan. 

What could possibly go wrong? 

Wo-Man In The Mirror

Alias had talked to Jade briefly during the last Courage and she was able to get out a lot of frustrations she had, but seeing Jason Kain only minutes later, put a kink in her plans of recovery.

She was trying so hard to get over him, and she was doing very well, or so she thought. Looking into Jason’s dark eyes brought back a flood of memories she had been thinking about all week. She just didn’t know how, when, why or if she should talk to him at all.

Sitting in her locker room, she blankly watched the screen of her television. Turning it off, she looked at her face in the mirror over the couch. Her eyes were dull and they had dark circles under them. She wondered how anyone could be loved when they looked like such ass. Turning away from the mirror, she pulled off her sweatshirt, revealing a tight ‘Jade’ tube top. She was going to start looking more like her old self and to stop moping. She walked to the door of the locker room and turned the handle. She pulled it open and stepped out into the hallway. 

Answers were coming, and now was the time.

Quinton's Army In Mourning

The boiler-room wasn't a place they wanted to be. It reminded them of the meetings they had, with him around. But he was no longer around. He was no longer alive. He was... in the nether world, after 19 short years on this planet. Bobby Knickerson was run down last week, and under unbelievable circumstances. When the troops are away, the leader will pay. Last Sunday, Quinton May paid the ultimate price for going to war with Vincent Pembridge.

On the night, the Army was at full-strength, but their mental state of minds weren't anything to gloat about. Quinton May stared at the picture of Bobby Knickerson propped up on a chair, as an impromptu ceremony was being held. El Janitors, 006.392, Damnson, and Quincy himself. The whole gang was in attendance, the whole gang was decked out in black. The mood in the camp...

Utterly poignant and melancholy.

Clearing his throat, Quinton May tapped the TV Title around his waist and shook his head. ON a night like this, he had a KOA Tournament Match to worry about. Against the man that knocked Damnson out the previous week, Vince Jacobs. Not the best time in the world to have a match of massive proportions to worry about, but Quinton May was never one to back down from a challenge. Especially now, with the rage inside of him threatening to explode and engulf everybody that stood in his path.

Janitor Howard, 006.392, and Damnson -- all inexplicably absent from last week's show -- had been shocked all week, having found out of the news from Janitor Morris. Immediately, the three of them felt responsible. Maybe if they had actually been present last week, something like this wouldn't have happened. Maybe Knickerson would still be alive. Maybe Vincent Pembridge's plan to murder Bobby would have been foiled.

Would haves, should haves, could haves.

Too late for them now, innit? A man's dead.

Slowly turning on his heels and walking out of the room, Quinton fought to hold back tears. The rest of the gang sighed collectively and continued gazing at the picture of the deceased Bobby Knickerson. 006.392 & Damnson were handling this the worst, simply because they were in the same age demographic. They bonded with Bobby on extremely personal levels, and the three of them were considered to be the future of Quinton's Army. Quincy's fledgings, if you'd like. For the first time, people were exposed to a group of people that, after enjoying months of upbeatness and courage, were absolutely drained of life.

Quinton's Army had just hit rock bottom. They were in mourning.

Somewhere nearby, Vincent Pembridge downed a beer, in celebration of Knickerson's death.

Keller...Petty? Please

It was a busy night in the ACW car park, as Elijah Arson pulled up into one of the empty spaces as he quickly got his bags from the back.

"Can't believe I'm late," he said as he quickly pulled out a hold-all from his trunk and shut it, before setting the car alarm and locking the doors. However, as he made tracks towards the arena, the noise level got louder and louder, and as he opened the door to the main hallway, a large amount of noise hit him as he entered, soon he found reason.

"What the..."

Arson looked up as a huge banner was stretched along the corridor with his face on it, reading.

"Arson the unbeatable...with his record of 0-2, only El Emenopi can stop him."

"It's not funny is it kid?" Arson turned around as Joe Bishop stood beside him with his arms folded, and an unimpressed look on his face. "You know, there have been a lot worse guys walk through those doors that you, you gotta remember that."

Arson wasn't having it though.

"I'm gonna kill Keller when I see him, he's gonna wish he never got up from that chair shot last week."

As Arson was about to storm off, Bishop quickly grabbed a hold of his arm and shook his head.

"Listen to me kid, guys like Keller are losers. They talk the shit, but they can't back up what they say, trust me, he's a flapper, a bag of wind, he's not worth your time and he's certainly not worth ACW's money."

Arson seemed to take in what the veteran and ACW staff member was saying but he suddenly seemed uplifted my something.

"See ya Joe, I'm off to see HAWK."

Old Friends

“Nice work Christensen; that’s not what we had planned… but it was a great way to ruin someone’s career.” Osyrus had almost made it to his locker room door, before he heard the familiar voice of an old friend. 

”Why isn’t it my buddy Hawk. How are you doing man? I thought I put you in the hospital for good; but here you are… alive and well. When did you get out?” He frowned through his whole sentence, continuing down the hall. Hawk caught up to him and put his right arm on Osyrus’ shoulder. Osyrus stopped in his track; glaring at the arm that isn’t where it’s supposed to. 

”If I were you, I would remove that arm from my shoulder… or I’ll break it like I crippled those scrawny legs of yours.” Hawk turned Osyrus around; both men nose to nose. 

“Is that so. All I wanted you to do was give the rookie the best fifteen minutes of his career… and what did you do? Busted his nose; gave him possible internal bleeding,” Osyrus smiled as he heard the list of injures he caused . Hawk snapped his fingers in his face to make him pay attention. “And you might have a possible lawsuit on your hands. 

“Where do you think you are Osyrus? This isn’t tA. We don’t win fights by knock out. I swear man… you’re more trouble than your worth.” Isis walked by as she hissed at Silver Hawk, entering the locker room as Osyrus pushed Hawk back. 

“You know Aaron, if that’s really your name. I don’t care about what you had planned… because that’s not what I had planned. Another thing you should remember; people tend to get broken noses, when they get in my face and talk about things that don't matter shit to me. Ask Joe about that if you don’t believe me. Starting last week; I am going to do what I want.. when I want. There’s nothing that you ACW officials can do about it." 

Osyrus pushed his way past Hawk as he opened the door to his locker room; slamming the door shut. Isis sat on the leather couch in their locker room; tapping her foot on the ground, she gave Osyrus a look of disgust.. before she left the room and entered the bathroom. 

So, when are you going to take care of SVJ Omar? I have waited patiently... and I am starting to get disappointed. I know you can beat that fuck. You kicked his ass at Glory so what are you waiting for huh? Are you waiting for some real stakes to be on the line... I know you are. The only question is left is; How are we going to screw ACW in the end. You have been nice in patient.. but face it; you're not going to win the title any more. You're never going to be ACW world champion again!

"Yes I am," Osyrus roared out aloud as Isis returned. 

"Yes you are what? What are you talking about Omar?" 

"Nothing Nora, Nothing." Osyrus left the room and entered the bathroom. 

King Of Ages Tournament Match - Round Two
Jade Vs. Dante Inferno

  

BOOM!

Several dozen pyros shot up into the air and the fans let out an almighty cheer. A video package played once more, this time showing the highlights of Jade’s illustrious career. 

“I cannot take this anymore
I'm saying everything I've said before
All these words they make no sense
I find bliss in ignorance
Less I hear the less you'll say
But you'll find that out anyway
Just like before... 

Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break

I need a little room to breathe
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break”

Just as the final spark of the pyro landed on the ramp, the lights went out in the entire arena. The music still played throughout and spotlights began to fly all around the ring area. Five of them shot out into the crowd then finally stopped on the top of the ramp, shining on Jade herself. 

“One Step Closer” by Linkin Park played as she stepped out from behind the infamous red curtain, raising her hands and saluting the crowd in a trademark fashion.

”I find the answers aren't so clear
Wish I could find a way to disappear
All these thoughts they make no sense
I find bliss in ignorance
Nothing seems to go away
Over and over again
Just like before... “

Jade began to walk down the ramp to the cheers of the crowd. They began to chant her name over and over again, and the ruckus got so loud, the voices of Linkin Park were hardly audible anymore. She half smiled as she strolled towards the ring, in her dark shorts and tight ‘Jade’ t-shirt.

”Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break

I need a little room to breathe
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break

Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break

I need a little room to breathe
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break

Break break break break break”

Jade finally slid into the ring and posed for a few snapshots for the fans at ring side before moving into game mode. It had been a difficult time for her with the Kain and El Emenopi incidents and all that emotions that came with it, but here, now, she was a true underdog...and she loved every part of it.

The guitar riff of KoRn's new single "Did My Time" ripped into the arena as the fans blew the roof off with their screams.

I  N  F  E  R  N  O

A mass amount of pyro and lights bombarded the arena as the new United States Champion walked down to the ring with his usual stone like figure, as the fans popped him and looked for a touch from the former Winters INC member, but Inferno like old tried to stay away from them as much as possible, instead he had his eyes transfixed on "The Jaded One" as he walked up to the foot of the ring.

Inferno jumped into the ring apron with an awe from the crowd, ala Brock Lesnar before he climbed through the ropes and entered the ring. Jade, who was initially very tense, circled the United States Champion as Inferno stood in the middle of the ring before passing his title off to the referee for safe keeping. 

Jade still circled Inferno as the bell rang, as Inferno stood still, his head the only body part moving as his eyes followed the 135lb'er from Ontario, Canada.

Finally, Jade stood in front of the Hellraiser as the noise level in the arena grew to an extreme level. Here was a woman of 5'11'', squaring up to a 6'7'' monster in the middle of the ring, and as quick as a cat, Jade bounced off of the ropes and tried a clothesline.

Denied.

Inferno stood solid in the center of the ring as Jade looked up, gritting her teeth, she went off the ropes once again, but this time, she smashed him in the face with a reverse elbow, causing Inferno to step back before clutching onto his mouth. Inferno spat on the mat, as a mixture of saliva and blood hit showed up against the white mat, as Inferno stood upright again, and asked Jade for one more.

Jade, whom seemed to be letting all of her pent up frustration out on Inferno bounced off the ropes again, as she went for a larger clothesline, only for the Hellraiser to drop her to the mat with a drop toe hold. 

Inferno's first instinct was to quickly get up and take advantage of his fallen opponent, but as he hovered over Jade's head with his right foot, he had second thoughts, as he put his foot back down and quickly pulled Jade to her feet, before slinging her into the corner.

Inferno looked to sling a right hand at Jade, before once again having second thoughts as he moved into her mid-drift with shoulder thrusts. Inferno seemed to be a little uneasy with the situation, as he hit Jade with the 4th thrust, he whipped her to the other side, and quickly charged after her. 

However, as Inferno charged, Jade lifted herself up on the top turnbuckle before pushing herself off, meaning she was now behind the United States Champion, Inferno turned around to be met with a stiff fist right into his face, as Inferno was rocked back into the turnbuckle from the right hand.

Jade wasn't letting up, unlike her opponent, she was quickly on Inferno with rights and lefts as the Champion looked a little stunned by the assault. Jade hit Inferno with a quick kick to the gut before dropping him to the mat with a spiked DDT which sent the crowd berserk at the sell.

1...

2...

Kickout.

Inferno powered out, as Jade was set into the middle of the ring around 3 feet away.

Jade was quickly up however as Inferno was on one knee, trying to get up, before Jade dropkicked him in the face which sent Inferno stumbling out of the ring through the ropes. Jade received a huge pop, as the fans didn't really care who won this match of two clear fan favourites. Inferno, after pulling himself to his feet with the assistance of the railings, was suddenly knocked back down to the floor as Jade hit him in the back with another dropkick, one which came from the ring apron.

Jade pulled Dante up, and with a sharp right hand the United States Champion was hung over the guard railing. Jade then pulled Dante's leg's up, which was no mean feat for a woman of her size, before planting her right foot right into Inferno's groin, or "inside thigh" as most vets would say to make sure that were not DQ'd for the maneuver.

Inferno sat, clutching his gonads, as Jade jumped inside, and then back outside of the ring to break the count, but as she moved over to Dante, she got a small surprise.

No more Mr. Nice Guy.

Inferno pushed her away with his right leg, which sent her tumbling over the ring steps in the nasty collision. The only reason that the fans had not got on Inferno's back over it was that Jade was soon up on her feet, even though she was trying to shake away some major cobwebs from the collision. 

Inferno was up, and he rocked Jade back another foot with a harsh chop to the chest. It would have been far easier for him to just go at her with a right hand, but this was a changed Inferno, but maybe he had changed too much for most of the fans, and Jade's liking.

Inferno shoved Jade into the middle of the ring as they took the action back into the squared circle. Dante entered the ring as Jade was just up on her feet, and as she whipped Inferno to the ropes, it was quickly reversed as Inferno clearly overpowered the young dame, before knocking her to the ground with a shoulder block. Inferno jumped over Jade on the ground, and quickly looking to bounce off of the rope and harm her with an elbow drop, only for the "Jaded One" to roll out of harm's way.

Jade whoo'd the crowd with an acrobatic flip to her feet before she charged Inferno who was just getting to his feet. Jade grabbed a hold of Inferno's head in a bulldog position and bounced off of the ropes, ala the Stratusfaction, but instead of taking Inferno down to the mat, she found herself being turned around in mid air as Inferno rammed her to the mat with a sitting powerbomb as he hooked her legs.

1...

2...

3...

No, but it was damn close.

Inferno got to his feet as Jade coughed and spluttered on the mat, before being yanked up to her feet by the United States Champion. Inferno knew what he had to do, even if he didn't like it, it was time to put this match to be, so as he stuck Jade's head in between his legs the crowd knew that he now meant business.

As Inferno pulled Jade up, Jade suddenly made it a lot harder for the Atlanta native by hitting him repeatedly with shots to the head and face, and quickly Jade turned the tables as he spinned around and hit Inferno with a hurricanrana, which got the crowd on it's feet. Inferno travelled off into the ropes as Jade was up quickly, and she was moving around very well after her few hard knocks she had suffered in the match itself.

Jade pulled Inferno the rest of the way to his feet and this time, she did whip him to the other side of the ring, before following that up with a clothesline which did sent Inferno down to the mat. The temperature was up in the arena, and it went even higher as Jade began to climb to the top rope and tried to pump up the crowd in the process.

She signaled.

Jaded Skies.

Inferno stood up to his feet, unbeknownst to what was going on.

Jade took her leave from the top turnbuckle, as she front flipped onto Inferno's shoulders, the crowd waited for the moment where the next part would come...

...but it never.

Instead, Jade found herself 7 foot in the air, looking on as Inferno stood tall and then placed his hands firmly on her hips, before Inferno thrust, the 150lb'er in the air, and then guided her down to the mat with a unique, but impressive version of the heaven/hell.

Inferno lightly covered Jade as he looked on at the referee.

1...

2...

3.

Job done.

Inferno pushed himself to his feet as the referee handed him his United States Championship as Inferno snatched away his hand as he tried to raise it for the victory. As Inferno's theme died down, the fans looked on as Dante hovered over Jade, something which they had seen before, which turned out to be very nasty, but this time, something took them by surprise.

Inferno put out his hand...for the second time in one night.

As he pulled Jade to her feet, he shook her hand, and you could almost see a smile from the giant from Georgia, and as he left the ring for Jade to receive a final applause for the night, he had no idea what was truly going on back home, as Alexi Volstein was going to get Dante to notice him, one way or another.

Winner: Dante Inferno

Erase the Record

SilverHAWK’s door swung open and in rushed a angry, irritated Elijah Arson.

“You could knock first...” HAWK said.

“Right...so...tonight, I need a match...” Arson was interrupted.

“Sorry Elijah, no can do. There’s no openings tonight, we've been booked up with Scorpion matches and title matches and tournament matches, we just have no time..” HAWK said.

Arson laughed.

“You don’t understand, when you walked into the arena, did you see that banner hanging? That was the work of that fucking blockhead Khristain Keller. ‘0-2’ it said. I’m not going to sit around and let Khristain Keller fuck around with me. Give me a match, I don’t care who the fuck it’s against. 

I’m erasing the 0-2.

Give me Pembridge, give me Osyrus, I don’t care.”

HAWK raised his hand at Arson signaling for him to pause.

“You said Khristain Keller did this?” SilverHAWK asked curiously.

“Yeah, that fucking ninny Keller was trying to embarrass me. Either you give me a match or I’m going to go make sure that Khristain Keller won’t have the convenience of making fun of me anymore.”

Arson stood up but SilverHAWK reached across his desk making sure that Arson stay put.

“As much as I’d like to see that, Elijah, I’m not going to let you get your hands on Keller. Not yet. Just...go get ready, I think we might just be able to squeeze you in.”

Arson stood up and proceeded to march out of SilverHAWK’s office...and as he left SilverHAWK sat in his office with a raised eyebrow, as he seen one of the ACW staff members on the outside of the door.

"Regina...could you get me Keller please, I wanna have a little chat."

Mind Games III

Last week it had been Hillary’s turn. Now it was the turn of Mexican Forme Carlos to panic madly, and gain no sleep for an entire week. As he walked the ACW corridors with his head slumped down, his shoulders aching with the burden of performing week in week out, one would predict a sour future ahead for Forme Carlos. 

And in some ways they would be right. He approached his locker room, and opened the door casually – noticing the doorknob was a great deal more loose than usual. 

The main attribute a kung fu fighter must have is the ability to weave his way into the opponents mind, the way to implement tactics whilst on the back foot. Little did Forme Carlos know, as he entered his locker room – turned and shut the door….that attribute would have to come into play. 

For when he turned, his head slumped down, facing the ground – he made eye contact with his worst nightmare. 

Drugs. 

And more specifically, cocaine. 

He bent down, like Hillary Small had done just minutes earlier, and read the note which accompanied the substance out loud. 

“You know you want to.” 

The dastardly work of Ms Hillary Small. 

But then….her plan was smashed to smithereens. Instead of grabbing the substance, and inhaling it wildly, Forme Carlos simply smiled. Deep down he was tempted….but on the outside he had a better idea…

The Search #2 [RECORDED 7.25.03]

“Let’s try this again,” Alexi told the three as they came to a stop in front of another apartment. 

This time Christoph headed up to the door and knocked. This building looked a lot like the last only it had white siding and no accompanying vine. As Christoph attempted to get someone to answer the door, the four hoped a better outcome would come of this visit. Within a much shorter amount of time, the door was answered. 

This time, a very beautiful woman stood in front of the four. Alexi laughed as he saw Christoph’s face go red as he tried questioning the woman. 

“Sorry to bother you, miss.” Christoph could barely get the words out as he was fumbled around in his pocket, trying to pull out the picture.

The woman’s gorgeous ebony skin and beautiful face obviously affected Christoph. Her long, black hair sat atop a gray tee shirt that covered her upper body. Christoph couldn’t help but look down and his mouth almost dropped to the ground as he noticed the tee shirt was all she was wearing. 

She smiled at Christoph, “oh, it’s no problem.” 

Christoph took a deep breath and practically shoved the picture in her face. Nervousness overtook him and his words became jumbled and fast. “We’re looking for these people, do you know them?”

The woman let out a cute giggle and looked at Christoph. “I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here...but you’re cute.” Christoph blushed and Alexi just shook his head.

Alexi shouted to the woman, “Stop sweet-talking my brother and look at picture!”

She looked at the picture and shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t know these people.” Once again, she looked up at Christoph, “what’s your name?”

Christoph gulped, “my name?” Cael and Randall laughed at Christoph as he couldn’t seem to remember his name. He pondered for a few moments, “Christoph! My name is Christoph!”

She brushed her hand across Christoph’s chest. “Well Christoph, my name is Leona. How would YOU like to stay here for the night?”

Christoph’s face seemed to light up and with no hesitation he nodded and began following her in. Alexi jumped onto the steps and grabbed his younger brother by the back of his trench coat. He basically dragged Christoph off and the four continued on.

Chocolates? The Bloody Hell?

Liam sat in the locker-room assigned to the British Army, which was once again stretched to skin and bones. For this night, Liam was practically all alone. Drake Nefarian had been assigned to be a fact-finding mission, while newcomer Santos Salvatore was never in the pipelines to work the ACW scene; he'd been officially placed in charge of the mission in theAsylum. The teenagers were apparently given the night off, after a whole week of partying...

And the big baddie himself? Taking advantage of yet another scheduling bonus. For the second week in a row, thReat & ACW were holding shows in the same city. Despite the rumours even now of thReat's Flaw not being aired live, Vincent had plans to tend to over there. Those plans needed to see the light of day, simply because it'd set the path for an unbelievable couple of months later in the year.

As Liam -- wearing a dark green short-sleeved shirt with blue jeans and black shoes -- watched the television monitor on the screen, which was airing the whole Bobby Knickerson's murder incident, and sighed loudly. It was proving to be yet another boring night for him, with no one to fight. Not that his confidence was pretty solid at the moment; he HAD crashed to Janitor Morris in the KOA Tournament. The Scorpion Of Manchester naturally reprimanded his right-hand man and demanded to know why nothing that Liam did appeared to pan out as planned.

The Enigmatic Irishman didn't have an answer.

Coughing, Liam decided against thinking much about his troubles with his partner and took out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, aware of the fact that he had absolutely nothing to do on the night. Not that he had the desire to fight. Opening the wallet, Liam took out a photograph from the dollars compartment and stared at it, with all the hate in the world. His eyes burned as he looked at himself, years ago...

Holding a baby.

.... HIS baby.

Shaking his head, Liam put the photograph back in the wallet and tossed the wallet onto the small round glass table in front of him, before cracking his knuckles and leaning back in the sofa. It had been an interesting lifetime for Liam, and the Irishman wondered just how long more would he have to go. How long more before redemption was finally earned. By his estimation, there seemed to be miles to go.

"My own fault."

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Naturally startled, Liam rose to his feet and squinted, wondering over who it was that rapped his or her knuckles against the door. He quickly walked over and opened the door, only to find nobody at all standing outside. Just a gush of cold wind greeted the Irishman, and he frowned. A prank like this, in a wrestling company? Sure was weird. But as Liam stepped back into the room and closed the door...

He noticed something on the floor.

....

A box of chocolates, with a card.

Liam's face scrounged up as he crouched down to retrieve the box and the card, millions of thoughts swirling around in his mind. And as he opened the card to read it, his eyes almost popped out. What he'd been exposed to was beyond his imagination and understanding.

"Drake!"

And as he got up to his feet...

"What, Liam?"

Drake Nefarian was standing there, looking rather tired.

"Chocolates? The bloody hell? Drake, I know you're bloody faggot but I'm not!"

Here we go again.



Challenge Match
Elijah Arson Vs. Damnson

  

The show was interrupted by "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin. Out from the curtains came a rather small man with short spikey hair. He got a loud pop from the crowd as he slowly walked his way down to the ring. Damnson looked around as he entered the ring and nodded his head in approval.

And then, the lights went black. A white strobe light right above the entrance way began to flicker as Superjoint Ritual’s “Fuck Your Enemy” began to play. “The Constant” Elijah Arson walked out slowly to a mixed reaction.

“0-2 ARSON!”

A fan yelled at Arson as he was about halfway up the ramp.

Arson became angered. Very angered.

He sprinted and slid into the ring as the music faded down.

The bell sounded.

Arson kicked Damnson in the midsection and connected with an Evenflow DDT. Arson pulled Damnson up by his spiky blonde hair and threw him into the corner. Arson bent over slightly and began throwing his shoulder into Damnson’s midsection.

“0-3? I think not.” Elijah shouted at Damnson as he whipped him across the ring.

Arson was unleashing the anger that had built up inside of him.

Arson charged at Damnson and threw a back elbow to the much smaller man sending him down to the mat.

Arson grabbed Damnson by the hair once more and used a modified kick to the midsection called “OMG I JUST FUCKED YOU UP.”

A modified kick to the midsection, I said.

And the crowd began booing.

Elijah had heard this once before towards the end of his bout with Vincent Pembridge.

Elijah turned around to spot Khristain Keller sprinting towards the ring. As Keller jumped up onto the top rope, Arson dropkicked him down to the floor.

Damnson realized this might have been his only chance at getting Arson off his feet and tried to come at him with a clothesline.

Kick to the midsection.

Denouement.

Cover.

The count of one.

The count of two.

The count of three.

And before the music could play, before the winner could be announced, Arson immediately slid out of the ring following a hobbling Khristain Keller.

Elijah had ended his streak of being un-undefeated but he still had a bone to pick with Keller.

Winner: Elijah Arson

Mind Games IV

Whilst Hillary Smalls plan was taking a turn for the worst…

Forme Carlos’ was taking shape and going according to plan. He knew that Hillary was trying to lure him onto the drugs, and he knew exactly the way to pretend it had worked. 

He took the bag of cocaine….and flushed its contents down the toilet. He then placed the empty bag on the floor, giving the illusion that he was hooked once more. 

CRASH!

He ripped his locker off of the wall and tossed it on the ground…..tricking Hillary that he had cracked. 

And then? 

He walked out of his locker room, and went for a walk around the arena. 

He knew what he was doing.

Something In Common? NA!

"Feet."

"Fuck off."

SilverHAWK looked on as Khristain Keller sat in front of him, a Metallica logo bore on his black t-shirted chest, and a pair of Timberland boots where planted on HAWK's desk as the former ACW World Champion looked on at a man whom he was becoming very...un-fond of.

"So...what did you want me here for, crock?"

"Why do you keep pushing me Keller?"

"It's in my nature...live with it."

"Fair enough. I called you in here to find out what that scuffle with Carter was all about, he's done nothing to you, so why did you go off on him?"

Keller's lip sneered upwards as he looked at his feet, and then back at HAWK. "I didn't like the suit he was wearing, it's crocodile you know, and you know how animal friendly I am."

"I'm sure you are, but I'd like the answer without all the bullshit trimming's please. I wanna know why you started attacking Brian Carter and I wanna know now."

"He attacked me first..."

SilverHAWK suddenly perked up in his seat.

"He attacked you first?"

"Did I stutter? Looks like the ears are going too now."

HAWK growled.

"What do you mean he attacked you first? He said that you assaulted him."

"Well...he's talking shit then. He came in, we swapped pleasantries and then he attacked me...then I attacked back and you and old Dunny boy came in calling high ho silver, you gotta start using your brain a little HAWK, your eyes only seen one half of the story my friend."

SilverHAWK pondered for a moment, before nodding to the door, saying Keller could leave, but as Keller opened the door, HAWK had the final say.

"There's something fishy about him isn't there, I knew it from the first moment I set eyes on him, but I can't figure out why."

Keller smiled...and then shut the door behind him.

"That bastard knows...fuck."

The Search #3 [RECORDED 7.25.03]

“Damn this,” Alexi sighed. The four men were now standing outside of a hotel, and none of them looked to be in high spirits. 

“What now?” Cael asked, hoping their search was over. 

“We keep searching, that’s what.” Alexi told him. 

This time Randall made a comment. “We’ve been searching since 2 o’clock this afternoon. We’ve gone through almost all of Atlanta and haven’t found a fucking thing!”

Christoph jumped in, “that doesn’t matter. We keep searching.”

‘The Twins’ were not too happy and but still agreed to go on with the search. Christoph, Cael, and Randall headed to the car but Alexi stopped them. 

“No. You three head back in hotel. I’ll take care of it.” Alexi assured the three he would return within the next hour with the information they sought.

The three headed back into the hotel and Alexi brought the cameraman off to the side. Alexi made the cameraman zoom in on his face to address everyone that saw this. “If anyone out there has information on whereabouts of Dante Inferno’s foster parents...contact me through my website’s e-mail. The website address is ODAmericana.com. Thank you.”

King Of Ages Tournament Match - Round Two
Quinton May Vs. Superstar' Vince Jacobs

  

Cypress Hill’s “Ring Superstar” begins to play over the sound system as ‘Superstar’ Vince Jacobs emerges from behind the curtain. Wearing a pair of black wrestling tights and a t-shirt that says ‘The Reason there is a Show” on the front.

“So you wanna be a ring superstarrr”  

Jacobs, arrogantly struts to the ring to a reaction of mostly boo. SVJ goes over to one of the fans near the ramp and takes his Quinton May sign from him and rips it in half. The boos get louder as Vince continues his walk to the ring.

“You’re in charge

Growing up in the world

Don’t trust nobody

Gotta look over your shoulder

Constantly

So you wanna be a ring superstarrr”

Jacobs makes his way up the steps and hops over the top rope. He waits for his next opponent in the King of Ages Tournament.

As soon as Vince’s theme ended, the house lights got taken down a notch and that set the stage for "Date Rape" by Sublime to play over the speakers. Instantaneous frenzied cheering for the Television Champion, as he slowly walked to the ring with a serious concerned looked on his face. He wasn’t smiling or happy to be here tonight considering what happened to Bobby Knickerson last week. Quinton -- wearing white tights with black art on it, with black boots -- quickly stormed down the ramp.

He was an emotional wreck and who could blame him after what Vincent Pembridge did. 

He unstrapped the title and handed it to the referee as he got into the ring. The bell rang and the two men walked to the middle of the ring staring at each other. Vince started talking trash to Quinton of course. May just looked at Vince until Vince slapped Quinton across the face. The Television champion swelled up in a ball of rage and he went right after Vince by tackling him to the mat.

Vince tried to cover up as Quinton tried to attack him with a barrage of lefts and rights. You can hear Quinton yelling at Vince with every punch.

“How could you kill him you bastard?”

SVJ shoved May off of him but May went back to try to attack Jacobs again but Vince was smart to roll out of the ring. The referee tried to hold Quinton back as Vince was trying to shake off the attack from Quinton early. The crowd was solely behind May as Vince walked around the ring for a few seconds. Quinton couldn’t take it any more as he rolled out of the ring and started to give chase to SVJ. Vince ran around the ring, as Quinton was hot on his heels. Jacobs rolled into the ring as Quinton came into the ring after him but as soon as Quinton rolled in a big elbow drop met him.

The fans started to boo as Vince grabbed May and drove him down with a big powerslam. Vince hooked May with a good rear chin lock. The fans were all over Vince as he was shouting obscenities to the crowd. 

S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!

Quinton May started to make it to his feet as he was trying to fight off the rear chin lock that Vince had on him. Quinton turned into the hold and whipped Vince into the ropes. Vince bounced off the ropes and came back but Quinton dropped down to the mat. Vince leapt over Quinton and bounced off the other side ropes. When Vince came back he was met with a big back body drop from Quinton that sent him crashing to the mat. Vince quickly got to his feet but Quinton was there to send him out of the ring with a big dropkick.

Quinton stood tall in the middle of the ring as Vince stood on the outside of the ring.

QUINCY MAMA!!
QUINCY MAMA!!
QUINCY MAMA!!
QUINCY MAMA!!
QUINCY MAMA!!

Vince flipped off the crowd as he slowly walked up the steps to the ring, the referee held Quinton back as Vince strolled into the ring. Quinton went to lock up with SVJ but Vince caught Quinton coming in with a thumb to the eye. The crowd started to boo again as Vince grabbed Quinton by his hair and flung him backwards to the mat. Vince picked up Quinton and whipped him into the corner. After the whip into the corner Vince followed it up with a vicious clothesline that rocked the Television champion.

Vince took Quinton by the back of his head and helped him fall to the mat. Vince was in control of the Television Champ and the fans in attendance knew that. That ever-present arrogant smirk came across Vince’s face as he slowly picked Quinton up from the mat. Vince hooked Quinton and drove him down with the Starburst. Vince arrogantly laid across the chest of Quinton for the cover.

ONE..

TWO…

NO!! KICKOUT BY QUINTON MAY!!

It was far from over as Quinton was still in this match. Vince dragged Quinton to his feet as he lifted him up for a suplex but Quinton reversed it and hooked Vince from behind. Quinton had a dazed looked on his face as it looked like he was going for a reverse DDT. But he took a little to long as Vince turned into the hold and took Quinton down with a Northern Lights Suplex with a bridge for the pin.

ONE…

TWO..

THR---- NO!! QUINTON GOT HIS SHOULDER UP!!

Both men quickly got to their feet as Vince swung at Quinton but he ducked the blow and rolled Vince up in a schoolboy. The ref dropped down for the cover but Vince broke out of the hold before the ref started a count. Quinton didn’t put all his weight on Vince for the pin. Quinton was not his usual self as he was a little sluggish in the ring.

Vince quickly got to his feet and from out of nowhere nailed Quinton with a big clothesline. Jacobs sensing it was only a matter of time picked up Quinton who nailed Vince in the gut with a hard shot. Quinton hooked Vince for what seemed to be a snap suplex but Vince reversed it much like Quinton did earlier. Vince hooked Quinton from behind with the Star Light.

This was it.. Quinton had no place to go as he was caught in the dragon sleeper submission hold. Every one in the building thought it was a matter of time before Quinton tapped out to this painful maneuver. 

LET'S GO, QUINCY!
*clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

His arm fell once….

LET'S GO, QUINCY!
*clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

His arm fell twice…

LET'S GO, QUINCY!
*clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

The referee raised Quinton’s arm as the whole crowd gasped to see that Quinton was dead yet. He kept his arm up fighting the excruciating pain that he had been in. Vince continued to wrench Quinton’s neck back with the Star Light but unbeknownst to Vince Quincy was inching his leg to the ropes. The crowd was going insane as the referee told Vince he had to break the hold because Quinton made it to the bottom ropes with his foot.

Vince visibly upset that Quinton didn’t tap out started to argue with the ref as the two men got into a shoving match. 

“I’m in charge Jacobs. You touch me again I will disqualify you.”

Vince was irate as he walked pass the ref to head to May. Quinton was still a little groggy as Vince slapped him in the back of the head a few times. SVJ picked up Quinton and threw him into the corner. Vince nailed Quinton with a big right hand before setting him on the top rope. Vince went to the top rope with Quinton but Quinton was ready for him as he starting nailing him with some right hands. SVJ dropped down off the top rope and Quinton quickly hooked Vince’s head and drove him down with a HUGE TORNADO DDT!! The fans exploded from the impact of that move.

HOLY SHIT!!
HOLY SHIT!!
HOLY SHIT!!
HOLY SHIT!!
HOLY SHIT!!

Both men were laid out in the middle of the ring as the crowd tried to pump up the Television Champion. 

QUINCY MAMA!!
QUINCY MAMA!!
QUINCY MAMA!!
QUINCY MAMA!!
QUINCY MAMA!!

Quinton got to his feet first as the crowd went insane. Quinton picked up Vince and drove him down with a Reverse DDT!! Quinton quickly went for the cover.

ONE..

TWO…

NO!! KICKOUT BY SVJ!!

Quinton looked at the top rope and quickly ascended the ropes. He was perched on the top waiting for Vince to get to his feet. The crowd yelled with anticipation as Vince struggled to his feet slowly. Vince turned around the corner that Quinton was perched on the top rope and was nailed.

MISSILE DROPKICK!!

Quinton raced over for the cover on Vince. The fans held their breath because they knew this was it.

ONE…

TWO..

THREE!!

IT’S OVER!! 

NO!! IT’S NOT!! VINCE GOT HIS FOOT ON THE BOTTOM ROPES!!

Quinton raised his arms in the air as he thought he was moving on into the next round of the tourney. But the referee was trying to tell Quinton that Vince got his foot on the bottom rope before the three count. The experience and ring presence of Vince Jacobs came into play at that moment as he was still in this match. 

Quincy was more determined to take Vince down once and for all now as he went to grab Vince who was making his way to his feet with the help of the ropes. Quincy went to grab Vince from the ropes but Vince held on to the ropes not letting go. The crowd suddenly gasped as Vince Jacobs nailed Quinton and the referee with a back kick that sent both men down to the mat.

The referee and Quinton were both down on the mat as Vince rolled to the floor looking for something. He pushed the timekeeper out of his chair and folded it up. Vince slid the chair into the ring as he slid under the bottom ropes himself. Vince picked up the chair and waited for Quinton to get to his feet. Quinton slowly got to his feet and turned around only to take a shot by the steel chair to the top of the head. The fans were all over Vince for his actions.

S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!

Vince threw the chair to the floor as he went for the cover on Quinton. But the ref was still down. Vince went over and shook the ref as he went back to cover Quinton. This was a travesty as Vince Jacobs was going to move on into the tournament by cheating. The referee slowly moved over toward the two men and started the count.

ONE

….

….

….

….

TWO

….

….

….

….

THR--- NO!! QUINTON GOT HIS SHOULDER UP!!

The look on Vince’s face was priceless, as he couldn’t believe that Quinton kicked out of that chair shot. Vince was pissed off as he got to his feet and stood in the corner waiting for Quinton to get to his feet. Quinton got to his feet as Vince Jacobs tried to nail him with the Superstar Kick but Quinton ducked and Vince nailed the referee with the kick who was getting to his feet behind Quinton.

Vince’s jaw dropped as he looked down at the referee. He turned around as Quinton was waiting on him. Quinton nailed Vince with a High Leg Clothesline. The fans knew what that was the set up for. Quinton quickly picked up Vince and nailed him with the HIDEAWAY!! Quinton dropped down for the cover on Vince but the referee was still down from the Superstar Kick.

Suddenly the fans cheers went to boos as someone came through the crowd and slid in the ring waiting behind Quinton motioning for him to get to his feet. That somebody was none other that the Scorpion of Manchester, Vincent Pembridge. Vincent Pembridge had the Scorpion Championship in his hands waiting for Quinton May to get to his feet. Quinton got to his feet as the British Degenerate nailed Quinton with the ACW Scorpion Championship.

Quinton was laid out as Vincent jumped out of the ring and ran over to the side of the ring were the referee was coming to. Pembridge gave a few shoves to the referee and pointed him in the direction Quinton May. At this time Vince Jacobs started to stir and saw Quinton laid out in the ring. Vince slowly crawled over to Quinton and laid his arm across Quinton’s chest. The referee regaining all of his faculties went for the count. 

ONE

….

….

TWO

….

….

THREE!! IT’S OVER!!

VINCE JACOBS WAS MOVING ON TO THE NEXT ROUND OF THE TOURNAMENT!!

The fans showed their frustration, as they knew Vincent Pembridge robbed Quinton.

MAY WAS ROBBED!!
MAY WAS ROBBED!!
MAY WAS ROBBED!!
MAY WAS ROBBED!!
MAY WAS ROBBED!!

Jacobs rolled out of the ring as he made his way up the ramp way after gaining a victory of the Television Champion and moving on in the King of Ages Tournament. 

Winner: Vince Jacobs

Mind Games V

With Forme Carlos walking around the arena aimlessly, Hillary Small saw her chance to check if the plan had been successful so far. 

She paced around the arena confidently – but not smiling as she was nervous. 

She approached Forme's locker room with caution, as she was unsure of what would lay inside. She only poked her head through, as she suspected her nemesis would be returning soon. She saw the turned over locker….she saw the empty bag. 

Victory, she thought. 

Soon Forme would crumble and soon his career would be over. 

As Hillary slowly walked away, continuing her trek around the corridors of ACW….she thought everything was going according to plan. 

And as Forme walked…contemplating his actions…..he thought everything was going according to plan. 

Soon, there would be a head on collision….

Just Be Quiet!

It hadn't been the greatest of night's for K. Keller. He had a fight with a man whom could be his boss sooner rather than later, he had a fight with Arson, then fucked up when he tried to make Arson lose his third ACW match, and then he gave SilverHAWK too much information about Carter, things just couldn't get any worse.

Or could they.

As Keller stood under his locker room door frame, leaning to the right with his arms folded, he looked on as Dante Inferno walked up the aisle, with a gym bag in one hand, and the United States Championship in the other.

Keller couldn't help himself.

"So you're going to let a little bit of skirt fuck up your career?"

Inferno didn't even have to turn around for Keller to know what kind of mood the giant was in now. Inferno dropped his gym bag and turned around, an expressionless face looked down on Khristain Keller.

"So...what exactly did you mean by that?"

"I mean look at you, you're a fucking monster, and instead of squashing the little bitch in the center of the ring, you prance around the ring for 15 minutes and really put a downer on your title chances. Do you think guys like Jacobs, Osyrus and myself are going to actually take you seriously around here now after that?"

"Well, Mr. Keller, until you grow another 12 inches and get over the regulation six foot for the World Title, keep your mouth shut, or else I'll shut it for you in the next round...if you get there."

Keller looked on as Inferno turned his back and picked his bag up, but he made a major mistake.

Turning his back.

Keller clocked him with a near-by steel chair to the back of the head as Inferno dropped down to the floor on his hands and knees, screaming coming from the corridor as arena staff and ACW road agents all hurried to the aid of the US Champion, but before they could, Keller cracked Inferno in the back with the chair, which sent him down to the floor with a thud.

Keller folded the chair up and tossed it aside as he brushed himself off.

"Little bitch."

And as Inferno received attention, Keller went back into his dressing room, and shut the door behind him. He was truly digging himself a huge mother of a hole, and there was no way to climb out.

Recurring Theme

It had been a few weeks since Carter's last visit, but he seemed to be the bringer of good news this week as he had been sitting in Dunn's office for the past hour, talking about the future for the company.

"I know as well as anyone who the big fish are Dunn, you've got three tiers. Tier three is full of up and coming federations who are just making a name for themselves in the industry, and then in tier two you have the established federations, your fWo's and your Asylums, and then in tier one is the WWE, because, they are on a level of their own, of that there is no doubt."

"So what tier are we then?"

Carter pondered.

"I would say we are in-between tier's two and three no doubt, and a good summer of programming could put his in a very good situation by the time the winters comes along. With the tier two fed's either concentrating on taking on the WWE or trying to fend off some Russians, we have a great chance to sneak a spot."

Dunn had a rye smile to himself as he thought of the prospect of taking on the big boys, he knew that ACW has something different about it than the other federations, but there was one problem...

"But we have no money to take them on...so how are we going to go about it?"

This was now Carters time, as he got up from his chair and began to pace.

"I was talking to one of my friends the other day about the situation, and he came up with a strategy, but I don't know how you'll feel about it, because you've been burned before from a buyout."

Dunn sighed.

"I might as well hear you out."

Carter nodded.

"Ok, here's the plan. Currently yourself and Dunn own 95% of ACW, therefore, if I was to buy out your shares, based on the company's evaluation and plunge that money into the company, it would leave the company secure for a fair amount of time, and I could entice more investors into the mix."

"Yeah, but that means myself and Boyd are out of the picture."

"No, I'm sure that if we got the lawyers interested we could bring out some sort of contract, leaving you, Boyd, and this federation under safe hands even thought I own it. I know that Winters messed you about the last time, and I truly don't want to do that, I'm a businessman, and a wrestling fan. ACW would not turn into my life like it did with Winters. I have no doubts about that."

Dunn looked into Carter's eyes, as he pondered about his proposal...

"I'll have to speak to Boyd."

Deja' Vu anyone?

Not Guilty! 

"Time" by Taproot.

Bring on the hate, everyone.

Your favourite person to hate, Vincent 'The Scorpion Of Manchester' Pembridge, was in town again. And as he swaggered out from the back looking a little flushed -- probably from having to rush over from the scene of thReat's Flaw 24 -- the crowd erupted into a chorus of amazingly antagonistic jeers. Now, with the events of last week, the masses had a new chant to add to their collection. And Vincent, wearing just black jeans with black shoes and with his ACW Scorpion Title in his hand, simply grinned.

Time; just a counter-clockwise in motion.
Time; it requires strength, love, and devotion.
Time; a detention of every person.
Time; is used to make us free again.

When we can turn back time, to any time.
By... by moving on inside.
And will we still ask why about the time?
Or be just fine inside of our minds?

He was loving the attention.

"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"

Sauntering down the ramp as the house lights dimmed and a blue spotlight was focused on The Callous Fight Machine, Vincent sniggered at the pitiful peons that were screaming and hurling tons of abuse at him. It'd almost as if Pembridge had become immune to all the rubbish that he was greeted by each week. Over the years, he'd been accustomed to embracing the hate generated by the followers of the industry.

What the fans didn't know was that Vincent Pembridge thrived on the negative reaction he got every single week.

Time; grows things older, faster when you find it.
Time; it's wasting away while we spend it.
Time; a reflection of our past with it.
Time; is used to make things right again.

When we can turn back time, to any time.
By... by moving on inside.
And will we still ask why about the time?
Or be just fine inside of our minds?

Climbing onto the ring apron, Vincent tossed his Scorpion Title into the ring and signalled for a microphone to be slid into the ring, as the British Degenerate himself stepped into the ring and raised his arms in the air, sneering at the crowd that despised him so. Vincent Pembridge didn't look as if the murder of Bobby Knickerson wasn't affecting him at all -- the point was to destroy Quinton's Army...

And no doubt, he knew of how the Army was in a state of mourning.

I can see this coming over my mind.
Cause you're right.
It's life, my light!

When we can turn back time, to any time.
By... by moving on inside.
And will we still ask why about the time?
Or be just fine inside of our minds?

When we can turn back time, to any time.
By... by moving on inside.
And will we still ask why about the time?
Or be just fine inside of our minds?

Our minds, Our minds, Our minds.
Because you're right, you're right...
Inside our minds.
Minds. Minds. Minds.

The smile on his face appeared as if it grew more sadistic with each week.

Minds.

The lights came back on and the crowd reaction grew, as the Scorpion crouched down to grab the microphone. Before he could even raise it to his lips, however, the newest chant in the arsenal of the crowd broke out again... and the face of Bobby Knickerson -- while he was still alive -- appeared on the ACWTron. The technical crew backstage seemed to also possess ill-feelings for Vincent... but the Plague From Manchester simply laughed.

He was enjoying all of this like the sick and crazy bastard he was.

"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"

Pacing about in the ring, Vincent patiently waited for the fans to grow hoarse on their own accord, before he began his tirade. He didn't have much to say, and it seemed he was dressed to fight, despite already having been involved on thReat's Flaw 24 just a while ago. Finally, as expected, the chants died down and Pembridge smiled... before raising the mic to his lips. It was finally time to speak up.

And he was relishing the chance to speak about the deceased Bobby Knickerson.

"Good evening, arses and cunts. I actually just came out here, looking for a challenge, seeing how it appears that I haven't got anyone to fight at all. But now, I've got something else to talk about. A really interesting matter, really. The entire industry's buzzing about it.

The death of one Bobby Knickerson.

Allow me to educate you twats, however. See, I find a flaw in your chants. A 'murdering arsehole', while flattering and... actually true, isn't the best way to describe me if you're referring the the murdered party as Bobby Knickerson. Wish to know why, cunts?

....

BECAUSE I DID NOT MURDER BOBBY KNICKERSON.

I really wish I did, because murder is such a wonderful thing. The final step in the life cycle is death, and hence, it is a brilliant gift. But, I wasn't the one responsible for giving the gift to poor Knickerson. I did not murder Knickerson. A senseless driver was the one who knocked Bobby down, not me. But yes, I do admit, that I am an accomplice. Bloody hell, I jumped into the same car that knocked the bugger down and enjoyed my ride back to the site of thReat's Flaw 23.

The simple fact, however, is that...

I DID NOT MURDER BOBBY KNICKERSON.

Let me repeat that.

I DID NOT MURDER BOBBY KNICKERSON.

One last time.

I DID NOT MURDER BOBBY KNICKERSON.

Now, a little bird told me that the police shall be making an investigation into this matter. They have found it fit to deem me as an accomplice to the murder, and I have no qualms with that. Only thing is, my previous felonies will come up, and so will the little matter of my famous trial in Manchester many years ago. This means that the arses known as the Manucian Police Force will be making their way down here.

But, I fret not. Instead, I demand that these law officials... just bloody bring it!

That is all about that matter; anybody care for a fight? For my Scorpion Title? Please do answer, I'm suddenly in the mood to brawl all night long!"

The fans were appalled. The gall of the Callous Fighting Machine, so carelessly dismissing the charges that were filed against him. Over the last few years, the British Degenerate has been responsible for many a crime, and the major one that actually set him on this path of destruction would surely be revisited if the police could somehow manage to get the Scorpion under their control.

So, the jeering ensued. Before, of course, the challenge was answered.

Keep in mind that the British Degenerate was on the back of a 10-match/fight unbeaten streak in the ACW. So, with that, it was certainly surprising to hear "Loser (Alpha-Beta Remix)" blaring over the speakers.

And out came... El Emenopi!

Vincent smiled, as he tossed the microphone out of the ring and cracked his knuckles.

"This is going to be bloody easy."

Scorpion Title Fight
Vincent Pembridge Vs. El Emenopi

  

A referee was right behind Emenopi as he ran down the ramp with his arms in the air, screaming like a pervert desperate to screw some old lady in the ass. This was turning out to be an interesting equation, mainly due to the fact that both men were a part of the uKw promotion that enthralled British audiences before its untimely demise, although the British Degenerate's stay in the company was a rather short one. The crowd, although knocking that the small Mexican didn't stand a chance in hell of doing any damage to the Scorpion of Manchester, got to their feet and gave Emenopi a resounding ovation.

Before they watched, as El jumped onto the apron, beat his chest a'la Tarzan, and flung himself over the ropes into the ring. Falling flat on his face, as a result.

.... Yes, you read correctly.

Vincent Pembridge stifled his laughter, before he pulled Emenopi up to his feet and began unleashing a flurry of hooks to the Mexcian's face, as if the Scorpion intended to break his challenger's face into a million pieces. Naturally, the crowd didn't quite enjoy this and made their feelings known they only way they knew how.

"VINCENT SUCKS!"
"VINCENT SUCKS!"
"VINCENT SUCKS!"
"VINCENT SUCKS!"

Pembridge ignored the abuse and put everything behind one last hook, that sent Emenopi sprawling down to the mat. He grunted, but amazingly pulled himself up, showing a lot of heart in the process. Vincent smirked and circled the recovering Emenopi, who was being supported by the immense cheers generated. He shook his head, in an attempt to get rid of the throbbing, and turned around to unleash a wild swing of his right arm. Vincent leaned back to avoid getting hit and nodded his head, somewhat impressed by El's tenacity. The Supreme Mexican Jobber tried again, but Vincent ducked this time and chuckled.

All that did was force Emenopi into another attempt at connecting with a wild hook. This time, the Scorpion sidestepped and Emenopi somehow struck the referee! Furious, the referee struck back, before cupping his hand over his mouth, shocked at what he had done! The fans were confused and Pembridge broke out into a fit of laughter, not quite believing what was actually happening. El Emenopi, the challenger, had just been struck down by the referee...

And was down for the count;

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

6...

7...

8...

Thankfully, Emenopi was up on his feet, but he was mighty dazed. The referee breathed a sigh of relief, glad that he wasn't the cause of yet another Vincent Pembridge victory, although the thought of the Mexican jobber actually winning never crossed anyone's mind. Staggering around like a drunkard, Emenopi tried as hard as he could to remember where exactly he was. Turning around, he found out in an instant, as both of the Scorpion's hands actually found their way to his neck...

*KA-PLAM*

DOUBLE-HANDED SITDOWN CHOKEBOMB!!

"VINCENT SUCKS!"
"VINCENT SUCKS!"
"VINCENT SUCKS!"
"VINCENT SUCKS!"

It's all over!!! It's all over!!!

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

6...

7...

8...

9...

10...

11...

12...

13...

14...

....

HOLY CRAPOLA~!

"EMENOPI ROCKS ASS!"
*clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

"EMENOPI ROCKS ASS!"
*clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

"EMENOPI ROCKS ASS!"
*clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

"EMENOPI ROCKS ASS!"
*clap-clap clap-clap-clap*

Somehow, with much help from the ropes, El Emenopi was back on his feet! The former uKw & McDonald's star was back on his feet, albeit with his eyes rolled in the back of his head. Vincent wasn't pissed or anything; instead, he clapped his hands and beamed at the crowd, who were ignoring the Plague From Manchester and continued to shower adulation upon Emenopi. Chuckling to himself, Vincent waited for Emenopi to stop leaning against the ropes and to turn around, before he charged at the Mexcian... looking for a clothesline.

Guess what?

El Jobberooni Magnifico ducked. And shot himself into the opposite set of ropes. Before charging at Vincent Pembridge.

He jumped...

He scored!!!!!!!!!!!!

....

Not. More like Vincent scored.

See, El Emenopi leapt into the air, looking for a clothesline. But he missed horribly. Instead, he flew over the Scorpion's head, and even over the ropes, landing in a tangled mess outside the ring.

Vincent and the referee looked at each other and blinked, before the referee rang for the bell. Just like that, the fight was all over. Pembridge scoured at the sea of humanity, and grinned as he saw their reaction. Yet again, the Plague From Manchester had triumphed, and the audience weren't too happy about it.

"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"
"MURDERING ARSEHOLE!"

Climbing out of the ring, Vincent retrieved his title belt and strapped it around his waist, before getting hold of a chair and slowly sauntering over to El Emenopi, who was trying to return to his feet. The Callous Fighting Machine was looking to kick off his celebrations, however, and the chair in his hands suggested that he had something special already planned with regards to that.

Close your eyes, kiddies.

*CRACK*

*CRACK*

*CRACK*

Emenopi was down, and out... for good now. But just as The Scorpion Of Manchester dropped the chair down on the concrete, the lights went out in the arena. The crowd, hissing and screaming animilasticallt at Pembridge's brutal behaviour, were now urged into a frenzied state of murmuring and wonderment. Within a minute, the lights came back on, and everybody in attendance were exposed to a wonderful sight.

Vincent Pembridge, down on the floor, bloodied.

What made that more interesting was Quinton May & 006.392 scampering away from the scene through the crowd, while El Janitors & Damnson scurried up the rampway, with baseball bats.

This is WAR!

Winner: Vincent Pembridge

Doomed to Repeat

Kain looked at his wall. All he saw were faces floating all over it. 

Osyrus. Smirking… mocking…

Dante. Laughing at him…

Red O’Brien. Drunken giggling.

Kain put his hands into his hair as he lowered it and turned toward the mirror. He leaned on the counter then looked into his own pitch black eyes. He was doomed to repeat history.

Over…

And over…

And over…

He remembered back to the beginning of this horrible situation. It had been three weeks since he had last tried to kill himself… a botched hanging. SilverHAWK had found out about it through the doctors. He said that they should let him wrestle and that he’d sort it out. Kain had walked into ACW Headquarters, expecting to be fired… instead… he got a world title shot. Go fig.

Kain looked at himself in the mirror and remembered the beginning of this week. He stood in front of the board of directors, and every single one of them, except SilverHAWK, had said that he should go to a psychiatrist.

He was sick of the offices. He was sick of the couches. He was sick of the Prozac and St. John’s wort. He was sick of it all. And he had to go back?

HAWK didn’t defend him… in fact he had kind of agreed. But Kain was too stubborn. So they summoned the security team to escort him to an ambulance. He was going to be forced to go.

Prozac doesn’t make you happy. It just makes you feel nothing.

It makes you have to remember without the feelings.

The last time he was on Prozac he fell down a rooftop garbage chute and injured himself to the point of not being allowed back in the ring for a long while. He broke that rule… and is still paying for it to this day.

This day.

This day… he wasn’t going to take his Prozac.

This day… he was going to have his feelings.

This day?

FUCK THIS DAY!!!

Kain threw the chair behind him through the glass of the mirror, then turned to his gear bag.

War… What is it good for… Absolutely Nothing



Vince Jacobs had just advanced in the King of Ages Tournament as he walked through the backstage area. He was heading to his dressing room when suddenly the last person he wanted to see stood about fifteen feet away from him behind some security guards. That person was Isis. Vince smiled as he walked a little closer to the guards.

“So where’s your bitch?” Vince said to Isis

Isis started to get agitated as Vince smirked at his comment. “You’re so funny for a has been Vince. Maybe you can get a job doing stand up after Omar cripples you.”

“Isis why don’t be a good girl and tell Mr. Christensen that Vince Jacobs is requesting a match with him next week on Courage.” Vince stated

“I won’t make any money that way, Vince.” A voice was heard to the left

You call and he comes… Osyrus suddenly walked into view of the camera as he stood next to Isis. Vince did not move a muscle as he looked at Osyrus who was behind the sea of security guards. Joe Bishop wanted the security guards to follow these two men around so nothing violent would happen between these two volatile superstars.

“You know Vince I really don’t understand how you ever became CWL Heavyweight Champion. What, they didn’t have any other pieces of trash to put the title on over there.” Osyrus and Isis shared a laugh

“I don’t know why you even want to get in the ring with ‘The Personification of Talent’… ‘A legend in the making.’ Osyrus said

“Omar, my friend you are nothing but a big waste of fuckin’ space. See I am a Legend. I was selling out shows when you were running around the Indy circuits with a clipboard in your hand trying to get noticed. I am the measuring stick in this business, the reason there is a show.” Vince replied

Osyrus and Isis laughed. The security guards stood their ground as Vince looked on at ACW’s first couple. 

“Well since you don’t want to have a nice little match in the ring then why not have a match right here and right now.” Vince stated

“Like I said before there isn’t any money in that for me, Vince.” Osyrus replied

“Well since you want a big payday then how about you and I one on one at King of Ages.” Vince said

Both Osyrus and Isis looked at each other with a smile. Osyrus pointed to Vince across the sea of guards.

“I’ll think about it.” Osyrus said as he grabbed Isis by the hand and escorted Isis away from the backstage area.

Vince looked on at ACW’s first couple walking away. He knew it was a matter of time that he and Osyrus would go one on one in the middle of the ring. Vince smiled at the thought of the confrontation.

Friend versus Friend?

Standing outside of the locker room, Jade looked at the door. The large star with 'Alias' in the middle of it shined out to her. Why she was visiting him again was beyond her, but she knew she wasn't finished talking to him. She still needed answers to some questions, which weren't answered last week on Courage. 

Jade raised her hand and paused. She was about to knock on the door, when it flung open, startling her almost out of her boots. Alias was on his way out of the room, dressed in his gear and heading to the Main Event match. 

Just as startled at Jade was, he looked at her, surprised to see her standing in front of his door. “Jade.” He nodded to her. 

She was speechless for only a few seconds. “How can you do this?” she blurted it out before she knew what she was saying.

Alias looked at her with a questioning glance. “What do you mean? How can I do what?” 

Jade took a deep breath. “How can you go out there...?” She pointed towards the end of the hall, where the curtain fell, dividing the backstage area, from the ring. “How can you fight a friend and still be his friend? Rip each other apart day after day, bruise, batter and hurt each other, and still be able to look each other in the eye the next day?”

Alias stood there speechless for a second, but nodded knowingly. He put a hand on Jade’s shoulder… she needed an answer and Alias needed to get to the ring.

“Jade there’s an answer and trust me… I know what I’m doing… but I just don’t have the allotted time to give you the answer that I want to give you right now. I gotta get out there, yeah I’m going to fight Kain... but it’s not in distain. Just wait in my locker room, alright? I’ll be back after the match, battered, bruised and whatever. We’ll talk then… but I’m sorry, not now.”

Alias felt a little guilty about having to brush her aside for the moment, but the Main Event was next… the next match in the series was next. Nothing could take his mind off of tonight’s match against Kain. Jason had shown an all new edge… hell it wasn’t even an edge… the man was legitimately going insane.

The root to that tragic insanity finally and begrudgingly made her way into Alias’s locker-room, another VIP treatment, and closed the door behind her without watching Alias walk off towards the corridor to the entrance.

Match three was only seconds away… Alias had been able to put heavy offence forward in the last match but would his streak continue?

ACW World Heavyweight Championship Match
Best Of Se7en Series
Alias(1) Vs. Jason Kain(1)

  

DON’T TURN YOUR BACK ON ME, I WON’T BE IG-N-N-N-N-N-NORED!!!

As “Faint” exploded through the PA, and the pyros exploded their way down the ramp, Alias stepped through the curtain.  He didn’t have the same outlook on the match as he had for the past two.  This was a tainted match for him.  The federation had proven that ratings seemed to be more important than the friendships contained within it.

The crowd cheered wildly, but Alias didn’t know them.  For that moment, he was just Christopher Sheffield…  walking in a world he thought he knew.  But one thing he did know…

Jason Kain…  was probably feeling the same.

Alias stepped into the ring.  A shiver went down his spine…  the series was tied at one to one, the stakes were high, and somehow this match had more meaning than a lot of the others.  He turned to the entryway before running to one of the turnbuckles and climbing up, waving to the crowd and yelling to them.  The feeling was back.

On with the show.

I’LL HAVE YOU, I’LL HAVE YOU…  WISHING FOR…

BOOM!

The pyro startled the crowd.  It hadn’t happened before…  but lately, the Epitome of Innovation had been surprising them on a normal everyday basis.

A QUICK DEATH!!!!

Kain ran through the curtain, stopping at the top of the ramp just to thrust a fist to the sky as two more purple-shaded pyros crisscrossed overhead.  Then he started for the ring.  Obviously, the hurt he had inside wasn’t showing tonight…  as Alias looked down toward Kain, Kain just rolled into the ring and threw his arms to the sky.  He stopped in front of Alias, and smirked.

Something wasn’t right at all.  Then Kain spoke.  Not to the crowd…  to Alias.

“Take advantage of it, Chris.  They want ratings, they’ll give you whatever you want.”

Alias knew what was up.  Kain was trying to fill the hole.  Jade was gone and Kain was trying, nay, wishing…  that he could go on with his life.  But the eyes told everything.  He wasn’t going on with his life…  he was filling holes.  Except, the more dirt he tossed in, the deeper the hole got.  Kain wasn’t acting like a manic depressant…  he was acting like a wronged man.

But his motions were proving otherwise.  And Alias saw why.

Kain threw his arms to the sky, and Alias noticed the tag on his wrist.  A hospital tag.  Right next to the slit scars on his wrists…  next to the burn scars on his arms…  and he saw it.  The spiked collar was trying to hide it, but it was plain as day…  the faint bruising of a rope around his neck.  Once again, Kain attempted suicide and something had stopped him.  But the bruise looked old, and Alias just hadn’t noticed it before.

It was just a matter of time…

DING DING DING!!!

The crowd jumped to their feet as Kain and Alias locked horns in the center of the ring…  Kain shoving back an attempted suplex from Alias, and reversing it into a swinging snap suplex.  He popped to his feet.  He blew up to the crowd in a burst of exhilaration not normal of Kain.  Alias rubbed his shoulder where he landed and started to read the tag on Kain’s wrist.

Prozac.

Kain wasn’t doing this to fill holes at all.  He didn’t know he had holes to fill!  Kain was just playing that match as if it were just a match.  Alias got to his feet and glared Kain down.  This wasn’t just a match.

The federation made him do this, didn’t they.

Alias swung around, pulling Kain to the ropes and bouncing him off into the turnbuckle.

“They made you do this, didn’t they?”  Alias stared at him

“What?  Do what?”  Kain smiled giddily.

“THIS!”  He grabbed Kain’s wrist, showing the tag to him blatantly…  but Kain just swung under, taking advantage of Alias’s actual caring side, pulling Alias’s hand between his legs and slamming him to the mat with a pump handle backdrop.  Kain stood up and dropped a quick diving headbutt to Alias’s shoulder, then stood up and gave another huge goofy grin before hitting the ropes, and landing another headbutt.

Alias rolled over, pushing himself up to his knees, but Kain rushed in with a hard dropkick, sending Alias back to the mat.  He rolled through, getting to his knees again and looked up at Kain, who suddenly had more personality than he could stand.

He’s faking it.

Kain ran around the ring, setting up for another dropkick, but Alias dove out of the way as Kain ended up with a baseball slide outside of the ring.  The Original Pulp Hero looked on in disbelief.  Kain was smiling.  This was definitely wrong.  Kain didn’t need medication…  he didn’t need a shot at the world title.  He just needed Jade again.  With her he was whole, but this just wasn’t right.  This was out of control, and he had to stop it.

Kain rolled back into the ring, charging at Alias with a hard right clothesline, but Alias ducked under it, turning Kain around and nailing a quick kick to the stomach before catching his head and driving it down with a DDT.  Kain bounced off the mat, but popped to his feet quickly, psychotically smiling as if trying to say “That’s the way to do it!!” then waving him on for more.  Alias shook his head in pure disbelief of what was happening.  But there it was, in plain sight.

Kain. 

Waving him on.

Alias stepped in but Kain threw a short jab to Alias’s stomach, offsetting him, then hooking him around the waist with a waistlock, then tossing him overhead with a hard shoulder-half-belly suplex.

Alias rolled out of the move as he hit the mat, but Kain was already up and waiting for Alias to stand…  just to hit him with another hard snap suplex, holding on and pulling him to his feet…  continuing with his patented triple snap suplex.  He slid over for a cover.

1…

2…

KICKOUT!

Alias shoved Kain off of him with an angry force.  Kain wasn’t himself, and this match wasn’t going his way.  Kain was taking risks he had never seen in the ring before…  and it was seeming that Kain really wasn’t taking the medicine on his tag.  It looked as if Kain had just completely lost it.

Alias pushed himself to his feet, but Kain, once again, flew in with a quick spinning neckbreaker.  He lifted Alias to his feet, and executed a second neckbreaker before hooking the arm and locking on the Shocking Experience.

Alias pulled against the hold, aware that Kain was trying to get this over with in a record amount of time, but Alias knew the buffalo sleeper too well…  and yanked his arm out of the lock, leaving himself in a necklock.  Kain held on with all his might, then Alias dropped to his knees, pulling the leverage out of the hold, and flinging Kain overhead.

The crowd exploded for the break in the hold, waiting in anticipation as Kain rolled out of the impromptu snap mare.  Kain got to his feet, but Alias hit a hard kick to the gut, before following it up with an elbow to the back, and a knee to the face… Bullets as he liked to call it…  which dizzied Kain, and left him wobbling right into the tilt-a-whirl piledriver Alias dubbed the A-Bomb.

Alias had the advantage now…  Pulling Kain to his feet and hitting him with a hard vertical suplex, and pulling him to his feet again.  Alias knew that he had to keep up this momentum if he was going to beat Kain in this series…

It was tearing them apart at the seams, and both of them knew it…  they just needed to end it as quickly as possible…  unfortunately, fate had thrown in a curveball.

The ACW World Championship.

Kain WAS trying to fill the hole.

Alias grabbed onto Kain’s fallen body and pulled him clear off the mat with a double Russian neckbreaker.  Kain jittered on the mat, and Alias knew it was time…

He pulled the buffalo sleeper on Kain, hoping it’d put him out and end the match…

But it wasn’t meant to be…  Kain suddenly knew he was in Anarchy’s Lullaby and it obviously WASN’T the way he wanted to go out.  Kain pulled his arm out of the lock, leaving himself in the same necklock he had put Alias in before, but Alias had the height advantage…  leaving him with the leverage to hold on through Kain’s attempt at pulling the same snap mare reversal…  instead Kain had to drop out of the grip to his back, pulling his legs up, kicking Alias square in the jaw.

Alias immediately stopped going after Kain as his mouth filled with blood.  Kain had nailed him good, and he was primed to do more damage.  Kain looked at Alias with a crazed look, diving in with the White Lightning, spearing him to the ground, and continuing the work on Alias’s head with a set of quick hard rights.

Alias knew he was in trouble, but he saw an opening.

Kain realized what he was doing for one split second.

Kain’s fist faltered and Alias rolled out of the way of the next punch.  He looked at Kain who had suddenly stopped.  Alias finally realized where he had last seen that facial expression.  When Dante Inferno had kidnapped Jade.

Kain was lost in his own mind and reliving all the horrible events of his past.  He was reliving them…  and taking them out on his only friend.  And Alias knew…  it had to end.

Kain’s face suddenly turned back into the crazed look again, flying toward Alias with another White Lightning attempt…  but Alias saw it coming, swung around, pulling Kain back by his own shoulder and setting him off balance…

Then, while looking to the sky for forgiveness, he dropped to his knees, and nailed Kain in the balls…  continuing into a surfboard/dragon sleeper…  Breaking Kayfabe.  Kain didn’t know whether to defend his manhood, or pull himself out of the hold…  but time on his decision was fading fast, and Alias wasn’t letting go.  Kain finally came to, and slung his open arm into a hard elbow toward Alias’s ribs.  Alias weakened a little bit, but Kain was relentless…  driving in elbow after elbow and finally Alias let go.

Kain rolled to his stomach, coughing and trying to shake off the dragon sleeper’s effects.  But Alias got to his feet first, holding his left side, still bleeding out of the mouth.  Kain started to his feet, but Alias instead set a kick to the mid-section and sent him flying shoulder first into the nearest turnbuckle.  The crowd blew up as Alias turned him around and pulled him up the turnbuckle and pulling him off with a top rope belly-to-belly… The Big Fat Kill…  then rolled through his own move running to the other turnbuckle and looking down on Kain’s battered body.  He didn’t even think…  but as the crowd started chanting…

“Glas-gow Kiss!!”

“Glas-gow Kiss!!”

“Glas-gow Kiss!!”

Alias suddenly stood upright and took the risk himself…

Hitting a perfect shooting star press…

The crowd erupted in awe at the Whiteout, knowing full well that Alias would have never used it if he didn’t have to.  But he held on for the pin as the crowd chanted along…

1…

2…

KICKOUT!!!!

The crowd fell into a explosive chant…

“INN-O-VATE!!”

“INN-O-VATE!!”

“INN-O-VATE!!”

Alias looked on in complete amazement as Kain’s shoulder went up.  The man seemed to be completely unstoppable, and the crowd was on their feet.  Alias stood up, watching as Kain’s seemingly super-human strength completely left him and he fell to the mat.  Alias grabbed him, and lifted him to his feet…  tucking his head and pulling him into a powerbomb position…  but pulled him up as high as he could, slamming Kain down with his patented High Angle Powerbomb, then stood up as Kain didn’t even twitch.  Alias knew that somehow Kain was going to comeback if he didn’t act fast.

He climbed the turnbuckle again, and crossed himself.

The crowd was rioting now.

And once again he pulled it out of his ass…

WHITEOUT!!!!!

This time the crowd started virtually killing each other with cheers and when the ref went for the pin count, the chant was outstanding…

1…

2…

3!!!  

Alias pulled himself off of Kain.  It took not just one…  but two moves he’d NEVER do, to keep the man down…  and this wasn’t even the last of it.  Alias was up two to one…  but as they say…  what a show.

He hobbled out of the ring and started his way backwards up the ramp, staring at Kain as the EMT’s filed out to the ring.  “Faint” played over the speakers and Alias was about to.  He stopped at the entryway, and shook his head.  The music signaled his victory…  but at what price?

Winner: Alias

A Hard Day’s End

His bones ached and his muscles screamed… but hell it was all in a days work. Alias had won his second match in a row and taken an early advantage in the series. He was two wins away from the World Championship.

How much would those two wins cost towards the disintegration of Jason sanity, though?

That’s the thing, it was never about the wins though… the series was what was keeping him in the federation… not to mention giving the company the ratings it needed… but it was the girl, the girl was what would keep Jason Kain around for the long run. Alias knew this, so did Jade, but there was a lot of things she wasn’t quite sure of…

Like how a man like Alias could throw away any notion of a god… but still have unquestionable faith. The will was the thing… where there was a will there was a way… the thing you had to believe in was yourself… and what you had planned.

Alias shock his head now though, clearing his head all the extra shite… anonymous hands patting him on the back for a great night’s work. Alias hung a towel over his head, not because he was ashamed of anything but because he was just damn tired. He had flown in earlier in the evening from the west coast having retired Tommy Kane in a bloody and vicious match… something he had done for Gavin Tinsdale, maybe that would help his conscious. One death repaid… how many million to go? 

Finally he stopped at his locker room door… the gold star with his name on it was plastered against, and just below that star was a note. Not unlike the note he had left SVJ, though he knew Jacobs hadn’t returned the favor… because Jade was long gone.

"Friends fighting friends? It still doesn't make sense to me. I don't want to believe in what SilverHAWK or Dunn have to say about it. What I want to believe in is Jason... like you still some how believe in Jason."