LIVE! March 30th 2003
from Detroit, Michigan

PREVIOUSLY... For weeks and weeks, a battle raged on in ACW which would have been finished by this time last week, but now, the story has taken another twist. After the Resistance's win last week in the 10 man Survivor match, news came through to Dunn and Boyd that just around the same time as the PPV was going on, Ethan Winters sat upright in his car, with his brain's splattered on the passenger seat. Now, today, Courage goes live with many disruptions backstage, including an FBI inquiry. 

Changes

"God dammit..."

As HAWK slugged back two pain killers, he crooked his neck to the side as he swallowed and then took a deep breath as he sat in his hummer.

"I'm getting far too old for this shit..."

He shut the door behind him and then began to walk towards the entrance, but as he got closer...confusion began to ring through the air as he got to the entranceway.

"You're pass please sir?"

By the looks of it, a federal officer was now the new bouncer of the arena, as he outstretched his right hand looking for an invisible pass, HAWK looked at his hand and then his face in utter disbelief.

"What the hell are you talking about son? What pass?"

As HAWK and the officer looked like they were about to come to blows, the door opened as Dunn popped his head out, a small smile on his face as he winked at HAWK.

"It's OK officer, he is with me..."

HAWK passed the officer and then moved with Dunn into the main lobby of the arena.

"What the fuck?"

Officers had invaded ACW.

Policemen.

FBI.

"It's protocol so I'm told," Dunn began with. "It seems that Ethan's death wasn't suicide, but somebody murdered him, but they have no idea who did it, or why."

"How about the fact he was a 110% slime ball? Surely he's ruffled a few feathers before he came to ACW?"

"Who knows HAWK, all I know is that the FBI will be talking to everyone tonight, including yourself, which does hamper my plans for tonight."

"Oh, yeah, when are you gonna announce the change then?"

"Before the main event...I've got bigger fish to fry at the moment..."

Mind Games

He was tired of being second best.

Yes, second best, or at least that's what he thought. He had never won a championship, never touched a belt unless it was a replica .. 

That was all about to change. Tonight was the first ever ACW Royal Rumble, for a shot at the World Title against ICU, at Pain or Pleasure. Dane planned on securing up that slot. He walked into the arena, his locker room around the corner, and opened the door. Empty, just the was he asked for. He was already dressed, besides needing to take his shirt off, so he locked the door behind him, and shut off the light.

And sat. 

And sat.

And sat.

Until finally there was a knock at the door .. or at least he thought there was. 

"Dane .. open up, it's me, Winters."

Dane looked up, his head in his hands .. "It can't be you .. your, your .. dead."

"Look Dane, just open up the door, and we can talk. I know how to get what you want."

Dane knew what 'Winters' was talking about.

He stood, and walked to the door .. opening it. No one stood in front of him. He slammed the door shut. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" He went back to the spot he sat at, closing his eyes.

"Hi .. Dane."

T-N-T is a Little E-D-G-Y

Geo Vacton, the MVP of sorts at Legends, stood in his locker room with his title over his shoulder. There was a pop from the crowd, but it wasn't likely that it was all for him.

Otto Lunge also sat in the room. He had a faded orange shirt that said "w00t!" on the front of it in black letters, and his hair was pulled back with gel. Geo's bleached hair was, as usual, shaped straight up with hair spray and he donned his normal "TNT" t-shirts which were beginning to pop up every where in the arena as they had just recently went on sale to the public. Geo looked up at the clock and then at the door.

"Okay, Otto.. Listen to me. You can't leave the room, you understand? A*Dubbs is here tonight.. and Lord knows he wants a shot at this title. If he sees you walking around backstage, he's gonna go after you.. And I don't think Ivan is gonna be so fast to save our asses again like he did last time." 

It was clear that there was some paranoia in his tone, but it was clear that there was also excitement. He wanted Dubbs to call him out. He wanted to defend his title.. but at the same time, he didn't want to get snuck up on.

Otto shuck his head rapidly. 

"Yes'a!"

Geo paced around the room. 

"Good. If and when he calls up that contract tonight.. I'll be waiting." 

Geo flicked on the television screen in his room and tuned into other events going on in the arena. He planned to hold fort in his locker room until A*Dubbs called him out.

Quinton's Army Meeting #005

The door to the boiler-room of the arena opened, and in rushed... 006.392~! He had gone to the toilet, only expecting to take a piss but soon found his stomach rejecting the lunch he'd had; a peanut butter sandwich with slices of lemon doused in ketchup. Normally, it wouldn't affect him but Janitor Morris had played a mean trick on 006.392's breakfast. It became cereal with milk to cereal with milk AND bourbon.

Ah, the perks of being part of an Army.

"Sorry I'm late! Had to unleash some C5s!" he said as he quietly closed the door. Quinton looked up at him and nodded his head, before turning back and looking at El Janitors flexing.

Howard had guns that matched Scott Steiner's.

.... No joke.

"Where's Ron?" May suddenly asked, as 006.392 greeted Morris & Howard, before they lined up in front of the Dictator. Upon hearing the question, all three of them shrugged their shoulders.

Frowning, Quinton leaned against the wall and wondered just where exactly was his newest member, Ron Williams. A reluctant member, at that; he had no real intention of joining Quinton's Army but following his defeat to Quincy the previous week at the Legends pay-per-view, Williams had no choice but to embrace QA... as per verbal agreement. But now, just when it seemed May was visibly shaken up over something, Williams was nowhere in sight. Had he gone off the deep end again and wandered away to resurrect Barry the Chicken?

....

Yeah, right. And Santa Claus is as skinny as some bugger living in Singapore whose name starts with a K.

"Okay, forget Ron. He obviously had some issues to tend to and also, probably having trouble fitting in with the rest of us. You three did give him the newbie treatment I wanted to implement on 006.392 here so maybe he thinks we're picking on him. Anyway, TONIGHT. There's a HUGE Royal Rumble thingy. At stake in the chance to meet that ICU dude for the World Title. All of us has been entered into the Rumble and I can feel it in my bones."

Pausing, he cracked a smile although his lips were quivering. El Janitors & 006.392 were paying close attention now.

"I know that QA will do very well in the Rumble. And that one of us will walk out of the Rumble the winner!"

Morris almost cried, the moment becoming too touching... while Howard & the kid began to clap. Quinton nodded his head, soaking up the response he was getting from his men. They did seem riled up and ready to go, but before the big plan, May had several points to make. Key points, that would go a long way in the shaping of his Army.

"But fact is, neither one of us could actually win it. If that does happen, I just want you guys to remember that as long as we give it our all, QA will prosper. Because that's what it's all about, really. Putting your best foot forward!!"

Applause again; even from Morris who had stopped crying by now; but Quincy signaled for them to cease the clapping.

"There's more to be done tonight, however. Ron... well, all I want him to do is get some drinks for us. Like apple juice or something. 006.392; I've got something special lined up for you. I know you want this to. Track that Vincent Pembridge fellow, find out everything you can about him. His past history, his mannerisms, what cologne he uses. Looks like he's hell-bent on becoming an enemy of QA and I won't stand for anyone beating up my men!!"

006.392 clenched his fists and... did stuff, pleased at the job he got. Howard gave Quinton the thumbs up; the Dictator was on fire now, his voice dropping a level or two. But obviously fired up for the matter at hand.

"Howard, Morris; you two are going to continue getting the word out. However, totally unlike the way you went about doing so at Legends. No, now... walk around backstage, look for people with POTENTIAL. Doesn't matter if they're men, women, monkeys; as long as the potential is there, I want them in. I'll be revealing my own recruit in a while. And later on, I'm going to gain my revenge on 108192 for the way he attacked me. I mean, it's not as if I asked him for some money or whatever. It was all an accident but he wants to make a mountain out of a nose hair hill? FINE! I'm game. Just the thing I need, actually, for the sake of the Army! Enemies are starting to crop up everywhere and now, we gotta be able to handle them!"

"NOW, LET'S GET TO WORK, HOMIES~!"

With an almighty group roar, the three men and the kid gave high-fives to each other, before all of them jogged out of the boiler room. Each of them knowing what they had to do on the night. Each of them fully aware of the opportunity that was up for grabs in the main-event; two opportunities, actually. To spread the word about the Army and to take one step towards becoming THE man in the company. 

The ACW World Champion.

Meeting adjourned, then.

Changes Part 2

"It's pretty simple Mr. Dunn, the whole of your federation is under survayance at the moment, because to be brutally honest, Ethan Winters' killer could very well employed by you."

Charlie Hawthorn was his name, FBI agent was his game.

Since the finding of Winters' body last week, no clues had been found either at the crime scene or anywhere else for a matter of fact. Hawthorn had been told to stay with ACW for at least the next few weeks on the road, as he tried to whittle down the evidence and the suspects.

"Ok Mr. Hawthorn, I'm guessing the sooner this is over the sooner we can get ACW back to normal. The fact of the matter is that because of the little interruptions from the FBI, which is obviously in a good cause, and that little show the WWE are having, we've been cut a good 30-40 minutes on our taping, so excuse me for being a little brash tonight."

Hawthorn nodded.

"It's perfectly understandable Mr. Dunn, few people are happy when a go worker dies, never mind when he is murdered. We would just like to make sure that this was a simple robbery, we don't want to have to dig deeper here in your federation, which looks like it's running a tidy ship may I say so. I've been around a few federations before and I must say you seem to have the best running show of the lot."

"Thank you very much Hawthorn, but don't take this the wrong way, but I'll be happy when you're gone..."

Hawthorn chuckled as he got up from his seat and placed his jacket over his forearm.

"Don't worry Mr. Dunn, if you're staff have nothing to hide, I'll be out of your hair soon enough."

Geo On The Brain Part 1

Allen sat down in his chromed out Cadillac Escalade EXT in the middle of traffic down on a freeway somewhere in Detroit. It had been a week after the Pay-Per-View event where in fact he had lost to Geo Vacton, for the third consecutive time. 

The tinted windows on his black ride did not hide the expression on his face. 

His left hand sat on the wheel as if the hand was custom-made to lay on it. Although the car had spent 50,000 dollars of his contract, it had meant so much more. It was his baby, the reason he went out of his way to have a valet drive it to every location he would be at for an ACW event. 

Everything he had was because of the ACW, the big phat contract signed with them, leading to the contract he signed with aWc. 

Their green got him the materials he wanted, but his skills had gotten him to the big picture, and he let no one forget that. Legends was an example. A rookie, being in the foundation, in the professional business for one and a half months, found the WrestleMania Main Event in that time span. Allen had accomplished what for many wrestlers, or fighters in the business would never come close to completing. 

Who would of thought, a kid coming out of Queens could ever amount to so much? Not many. But Allen, he overcame the odds, working his ass off to accomplish the impossible. 

His dark brown fingers tapped lightly on the stirring wheel, bobbing his head to a 50 Cent joint, off his freshman album Get Rich or Die Tryin'. 

"I got you nucka, tonight is the start."

Vincent Pembridge Vs. Nature

    

After his somewhat shocking debut appearance on ACW programming the previous week on Legends, Vincent Pembridge was quick to make it known how disgusted he was with the 'sodding talent' that existed in the company. When asked why then did he join the organization, the Brit replied coldly.

"Money."

"Also, because of a plan."

"Money"

"To get back in, as you yanks call it, the groove."

"And finally, yes. Money."

"Oh, it's also always fun to unleash malevolence upon a bunch of hapless pillocks. No harm in that."

So then, with those cryptic answers... excluding the ones where he screamed MONEY like a crackwhore... Vincent Pembridge appeared from behind the curtains as "Time" by Taproot began to play over the sound system. Almost immediately, tremendous jeers rained down on the Scorpion Of Manchester but he simply smirked and swaggered down to the ramp. Black sleeveless tank top, blue jeans, black shoes; it was all he was wearing. He didn't even look like he was ready to fight, but this match was a result of his brash challenge backstage.

He dared anyone to step up and fight him. Up stepped Nature, whose feud with Charlie Loc ended rather shabbily for him, with a disappointing and crushing defeat at the hands of the Vietnamese Viper at Legends. Nature stepped up simply because he was tired of listening to Vincent ramble on, and also, relished the chance to prove that his loss to Loc was simply one of his off-days.

A fluke.

Vincent quickly entered the ring and climbed the nearest turnbuckle, looking out at the fans with utter disdain. The jeering got louder and he snorted, jumping back down onto the canvas. His theme had already ceased to play, following with the music-less entrance of Nature. The jeering reduced a wee bit, but the crowd hated Nature just as much. He was bland, and his moniker as The Environmental Extremist didn't really sit with them.

How they failed to realise that Vic Taylor really did care about the environment and all that bollocks. But as he rolled into the ring, he was finding out what Vincent Pembridge cared about.

*DING DING DONG*

A cracking clothesline sent Nature back down to the canvas, and The Environmental Extremist was a good 3 inches taller than the man formerly known as Jakks, who now began to stomp away at his opponent. Nature tried to block the kicks but to no avail, and seconds later, found himself being pulled up by the hair.

"You sodding cunt!" Vince cried out as he unleashed a ferocious right hook, almost knocking Vic out. The latter stumbled backwards, allowing Vincent to bounce himself off the ropes.

And take him down with a decent-looking shoulder-tackle. The immediate cover;

ONE...

TWO...

Easy kick-out from Nature, as Vincent pulled him back up and kicked him in the midsection, before whipping The Environmental Extremist face-first into the turnbuckle. Vic's sternum crashed into the turnbuckle and he staggered back, holding his solar plexus in obvious pain. The British Degenerate didn't seem to really care much, as he grabbed Nature from behind and threw him over his own head in a German Suplex.

This was what people called a SQUASH.

Nature was just not getting into it at all, and was quite simply getting his arse kicked. Vincent emitted a low belly-laugh when Nature used the ropes to help himself up. Seething mad, the Environmental Extremist growled, charging at Pembridge. Who amazingly managed to raise Nature over his head in a gorilla press, drawing surprised cheers from the crowd. One press, two press, three press...

Then Vincent forcefully brought Vic Taylor down. Onto his knee. Nature's chest almost burst open right there, and another cover was made by Vince;

ONE...

TWO...

THR...

Bravely enough; or foolishly, you decide; Nature forced his shoulders off the mat, causing the Scorpion to hiss. He pulled Vic up and smashed his forearm into the now-vulnerable chest of his opponent, before his knee crushed several bones of TEE's ribcage. With Nature once again doubling over, agony taking over, the man formerly known as Jakks took a step back... before unleashing a deadly knife-edged chop to Nature's throat. A move Vincent had created and perfected many years ago.

The Windpipe Smash.

Strangely enough, a small pop was generated for the move as Nature collapsed to the mat, gasping urgently for air. Now smiling, Pembridge walked over and pulled his challenger up, the end of the torment seemingly not in sight. But when Vincent Pembridge brilliantly drilled The Environmental Extremist with a spinning sambo suplex, everybody knew it was over. The way the ring shook seemed to be more evidence; no one would have been able to kick out of that. Satisfied, the Scorpion Of Manchester made the arrogant cover;

ONE...

TWO...

THREE!

The punishment had come to a devastating end, as paramedics quickly appeared. Seemed as if Nature really was injured during the course of his annihilation by Vincent Pembridge, who simply rolled out of the ring and proceeded to the back. No fanfare, no posing, no nothing.

He'd come to do a job... and the Brit did it. Empathically.

Winner: Vincent Pembridge

The Search

People's opinions of Ron Williams have changed since Legends. One moment you have a fat, ugly, beer swilling, junk food eating English asshole, then the next moment you have a superstar! 

After his performance against the leader of the army Quinton May he was 
acclaimed as a Superstar. He had a branding. He had a name. He was a superstar! 

He also had an army. Quinton May's batch of misfits were his army. Although not out of choice he did seem to become slightly settled into the ways of the army by how he clambered down the backstage corridor been closely trailed by the self-proclaimed ACW Tag Team Champions, El Janitor. Fact was, Ron didn't seem comfortable with QA at all. 

'You looking for that girl who beat you up then Ron!?' 

That was Howard who seemed quite willing to highlight the fact that it was a women who struck Ron at Legends. 

'She didn't beat me up! And besides...she hasn't got the stature of a women! She's a man!' 

Ron was agitated and quite annoyed at Howard who took a step back when Ron did his little outburst. More likely just for attention! That's what the new Ron was like. 

'So we looking for that woman though!?' 

Morris obviously saw some danger for his tag partner as he brought himself into the conversation. 

' YEAH! LET'S FREAKING GET HER AND AND...MAKE HER JOIN THE FREAKING ARMY!!!!!!' 

Morris and Howard stared at each other, now cheering at the mention of the Army. Ron furiously approached them both which saw the disbandment of their little cheerleading like session. 

'We are going to find her and ask her why she hit me! That's what we are going to do!' 

Ron was furious. He screamed like a man on drugs. But we all know Ron is an addict. Yea an addiction to Junk food. This was evident with the crunching of a bar of chocolate came from his mouth. Yes, All this talking and anger had got Ron hungry and when he's hungry he is a mad man! 

' Now come on!!! We haven't got much time' 

Ron advanced forward, while El Janitors simply shrugged and walked away to pursue on their own mission, leaving Mr. St George in pursuit of his attacker all alone. Williams was now in a deadly war, alone, but it didn't matter to him. Hell, he thought the janitors were right behind him. However, he knew that he had their support even if he didn't look all too willing to hang out with them. It wasn't Iraq, but it was still a mission that involved an army; Quinton's Army. 

The Return/A New Addition

The night was still young, but it was already highly emotionally-charged in the arena. One man who was experiencing a myriad of emotions was Quinton May. He seemed distressed over something in his personal life, pleased over what a great night it could turn out to be, anxious over the tasks he assigned to El Janitors & 006.392 and how they would fare going about them, and finally... angry at certain things.

Vincent Pembridge, Ron Williams, 108192; just off the top of the head.

"So, Mr. May, you announced last week on Legends that there was a new recruit you were going to introduce tonight. However, I don't see anyone standing here next to you? Did you just say that last week to try and get my number? Because... ya know, I don't swing that way!" ACW reporter Lonnie Clarkson boomed into his microphone backstage, at the interview area.

May looked at him and almost cried, unhappy that rumours of his gayness were still floating around.

Just seconds later, however, a familiar figure came up to Quinton as the latter smiled. The two men shook hands and whispered to each other, before the man stood still beside Quinton. May was now beaming from ear to ear now, apparently ready to talk.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I PRESENT TO YOU... THE RETURN... AND A NEW ADDITION TO QUINTON'S ARMY... TOK!"

It was ToK. And yes, Quinton was correct; he had returned to the ACW. This time, the look in his eyes... it was hypnotic. His eyes seemed to be brimming with answers to questions everybody wanted to ask yet didn't know how to. They were full of rage yet a film of compassion was evident. As Lonnie Clark looked at ToK, he was in awe. The eyes, they were working their voodoo; unintentionally, of course.

But another thing that was surprising was that ToK simply stood there, engrossed in his own thoughts, smiling very thinly. Looked as if he didn't wish to speak at all.

"ToK is the latest member of Quinton's Army, as I've just said... and I promise you people, with ToK onboard, QA will become a really solid force. I met him a few weeks back and after a while, we've become fast friends. I can assure all of you right now, ToK is ready to make an impact here in the ACW!"

Turning to his friend, ToK's smile grew slightly wider and the two walked off, the crowd's cheers audible in the background. Any friend of Quinton's was a friend of theirs, and reporter Lonnie Clarkson was stunned.

Quinton's Army was really taking shape before his very eyes, as well as the eyes of the rest of the world.

Geo On The Brain Part 2

The face of A*Dubbs stuck to the frame of the camera, leaving a glimpse as to what he could be thinking. 

Lights filled his locker room as if he were in the spotlight, and to many the light should not of even been placed on him, seeing as to how he dropped the ball last week at the biggest spectacle in ACW Entertainment. 

To A*Dubbs though, it didn't matter. 

"Heh."

A slight grin came to his mouth, as he thought about the subject on everyone's mind. The Legends aftermath, which would be a wild one. With Courage on hand, the Number One Contenders Match-up would be a Royal Rumble. Allen was involved, but his mind did not truly care for it. The World Heavyweight Championship was on Dubbs agenda, but not for the night. 

Tonight, he had other plans. Geo Vacton. The name alone made Allen snicker, but it not bring down his spirits. Allen was ready for Geo, he could feel it. The day he picked the match, was the day he realized he was ready period. He had the game picked out, to a specific tee. The stipulations he had for Vacton were sure to handicap his mind, the key factor that Allen needed to win over. If Geo wasn't on the ball, Allen knew, he could not possibly perform to his best abilities. 

"Not that I ain't got as good of skills as that nucka." He thought. "I'm tha fuckin' greatest. Yeah, Allen, you da bomb. Remember that shit, and you straight."

He smirked, pulling a joint out of his pocket swiftly. Also pulling his bag over to him, Dubbs felt he could possibly get something out of the ordeal of the Main Event later on that night. 

The possibilities were endless.

Some revenge on the Resistance members who took Dubbs and his team to a downfall? Nah, Allen didn't really have beef with them, and he thought to himself, why should he? They didn't do anything to him, Alias and A*Dubbs had no direct beef, therefore he found no point to that situation. 

"Take a shot at that big nigga Osyrus?"

Osyrus is the ex-World Champion, got the boot courtesy of Alias last week, therefore the dude is a lost cost. 

"Haha, guess that leaves only one option for you kid."

It was clear, as the only thorn in Allens side that stood within an arms reach was one who he would eventually fight in a United States Title bout. 

Later on that night blood was to be spilled, and Allen knew, it would be that of the US Champion, Geo Vacton. 

Surprises

"It's my party" by Fabulous swept into the arena and the number 1 nucka was once again met his at this time standard array of boos. Dubbs strutted down to the ring to eventually shake his head at the members of the audience, especially those wearing Geo Vacton t-shirts. Dubbs licked his lips as he entered the ring and then paced around with a cocky grin on his face. He reached out of the ring and took a microphone from a nearby ring announcer. 

"Ha...ha...ha..." Dubbs laughed slowly into the mic. "Look who still gotz a jooobbbbbb!" 

The crowd booed. 

"Yeah, unlike a lot of you hicks out there, I gots me a j-o-b!" 

The heat was tremendous. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah.. Yo' little hero beat me at Legendz last week, but let's not fahget who stared in the promo pics.. Yeah, yeah, yeah.. It was the numbah 1 nucka, A*Dubbs! Whether you like it or not, the hottest star this company has to offer." 

Dubbs paced around the ring, his head cocked to the side. 

"Yeah.. And it's cos of that, that I still got a lock on the ACW..." Dubbs walked around the ring slowly, getting a new feel for the atmosphere. "But.. You sorry muthafuckas, that ain't the only piece of paper I got..."

A*Dubbs removed a sheet of paper from his pocket as he spoke, unfolding it. The paper read clearly 'US Championship Match' on the top. 

"Yeah, yeah.. This right herre.. This is my ticket to fame, playa! This is my ticket to fame...For all those of y'all who ain't in the know... This is how it's about to roll. See, I'm a genius and I don't need ya'll punk asses opinion on it, this nucka right here got skills when it comes to thinkin' about shit. I got this contract written up before Legends, before Winters with his sorry, bitch-ass self, took his own life like the coward everyone knew he had ALWAYS been..." 

Dubbs was silent for a moment. No one spoke in the arena. 

"Oh shut the fuck up, before this nigga punked out and became fully pussified ya'll hated tha lil mafucka! Just goes to show how long it takes for you fat-ass crackas to jump ship."

The crowd got louder than it had gotten all night, showing its hate for Allen despite his amazing in-ring tactics. 

"ANYWAY. Before Winters lost, everything. Before he went on, he made this match contract.. And I, being the genius that I am, told him to leave the date...annnd the match stipulation empty. So, at any time.. Whenever tha FUCK I want... I can call that nucka Geo Vee out here, and I can win 'dat title off his ass.

The fans chant all over the arena, "ASS-HOLE, ASS-HOLE, ASS-HOLE" as if they knew what was going on, and that was an easy discovery. 

What A*Dubbs and the late Ethan Winters had in mind, was an complete and utter blowjob of a match.

"Oh yes, this contract is for the ACW United States Championship Title!" 

The crowd was buzzing with boos. 

"And I know y'all wanna know just when this match is gonna happen, but I ain't telling you SHIAT--"

"'Cos I'm T-N-T! I'm Dy-No-Mite!" The crowd exploded!! Geo Vacton stepped out onto the steel ramp way with his title over his shoulder and business written all over his face. He paced from side to side, but never took his eyes off of Dubbs. He slowly held the mic to his lips, and he waited for the crowd to die down... and waited...... and waited.

"Dubbs, you talk sooooooooo much jive! Yeah, that's right.. You talk A Lot Of Jive!" Geo paced back and forth. "Fastest rising star in ACW? Ok, I'll give you that... A genius, ok... You got a brain... You got my ass written all over that contract, yeah, you do. But... The next ACW United States Champion? Nuh uh--I don't think so." 

The crowd erupted for Vacton.

"T-N-T! T-N-T! T-N-T!" The crowd screamed.

"But... If you really think you can beat me.. Go ahead. Name your stipulation and let's do this." 

Geo stopped pacing and stood at the center of the top of the ramp. The crowd was buzzing!

But A*Dubbs kept his cool. He laughed lightly into the mic and then held it up to his lips. 

"You.. want me to make the match.. here? Right now? In this arena?" 

Geo simply nodded. 

"That's cool Geo, I think you may get what you want...... wait, NO, this nucka don't give a shit! That ain't gonna happen 'cos this crowd don't deserve to see a competitor like A*Dubbs, tha mafuckin' general, tha mafuckin' GOD TO THE ACW, they don't deserve let alone can they afford to see me wrestle in their crumby ass building, in this shitty ass town!"

Geo pumped his fists. Dubbs shuck his head. "You just don' get it.. The timin' as to be right.. tha feelin', has to be there.. I want everything to be perfect when I finally decide it's time for your title reign to end." 

Geo shuck his head and looked around at the crowd.

"I'll Give you the Right feeling!" Geo dropped his mic and charged to the ring!

"Hahahaha, Geo you think I'm bout to run cracka? You want a piece of this shit? You go right ahead and you come get some NUCCKKAAAA!!!"

Geo stopped and entered the ring, sliding through its upskirts, just as Allen pointed at him, the tip of his finger touching Geo's six-pack chest. 

"Oh, snap my fault Geo, there was one lil' thing that slipped my mind, leading me to lead you on and easily take your gold. Geo, a stipulation that is on this contract states clearly, that nucka, if you put yo dirty lil paws on the very nigga whose bout to be taking your gold sometime soon, you won't have to wait much longer for your title reign to be extinct. It'll get stripped bitch. ITZ ON."

"It's My Party" plays as Allen waves his hand in a girly manner, leaving Geo looking on at him with nothing but anger. Allen exits the ring right in front of his arch-enemy.

Geo had no clue what was in store on his bumpy ride on Allens roller coaster, but he knew one thing. 

This was going to be a very long ride.

What's more is.. how will this affect tonight's rumble match?

On The Hunt [1]

"Morris, see that guy over there?"

"I SURE AS FREAKING HELL DO, HOWARD!"

"Sssh, not so loudly. Anyways, I think he has potential. Look at those guns! Well-oiled and stuff... I could just bite them."

"I KNOW WHAT YOU FREAKING MEAN, HOWARD. BUT HIS FACE, LOOKS SO FREAKING GREASY!"

"Well, I think a towel would help him out there, Morris."

....

"IT WOULD!"

"OKAY, HOWARD! SO WHAT DO WE FREAKING DO NOW? FREAKING TALK TO HIM?"

"I guess so, Morris. You've got money? I'm all out. And we better go over quickly before he leaves. I don't want him to leave now that we're so close."

"YAH, I'VE GOT SOME FREAKING MONEY. QUINTON IS GOING TO BE SO FREAKING PROUD!"

"He sure as hell is, Morris. I agree. Come on then, let's go... I'm getting a cramp from all this sitting down."

Standing up, El Janitors slowly walk towards their target. They had been observing him for a while now, debating over whether he was what QA needed. Potential, Quincy had stressed. A recruit had to have potential. In Howard's mind, the man he was looking and drooling at had immense potential. As for Morris, he didn't care; he just wanted to buy the hotdogs and eat them.

Wait, what?

"HELLO. I WANT SOME FREAKING HOTDOGS!!"

"And my name is Howard. You may remember me from such movies as CAPTAIN STABBIN-HER-IN-THE-ASS or LOLITA EXPRESS or maybe even WILD CACTUS. Anyways, I am here wishing to ask if you want to join the greatest group of all-time; no, not the Spice Girls, although that Posh Spice does have a tight ass... I'm talking about Quinton's Army. Oh, I'd also like those very oily-looking hotdogs, if possible."

The innocent hotdog vendor, who was happily minding his own business, stared at the UNOFFICIAL ACW Tag-Team Champions with fear in his eyes; firstly, he didn't understand a word of English and secondly, he didn't speak a world of English. He grabbed bottle of ketchup and ran away, crying out for help in some foreign language.

Leaving El Janitors there, their quest to recruit a new member into QA having taken a battering.

"Oh well, I guess we'll get the hotdogs for free then."

Quinton May Vs. 108192

    

At Legends, Quinton May was one of the first people to notice 108192. A new member of the ACW roster, but one who was as eccentric and enigmatic as Quincy, some would say. The Dictator Of QA tried to recruit 108192 into the Army but the X-prisoner was in a world of his own, reflecting on days gone by. Days he'd never get back.

Flash forward to later that night, when the two ran into each other. An absolute melee broke out.

The fans in the arena looked up at the ACWTron, as a recap of events that led to this match being signed in the first place was about to be shown. From static, came the scene of Legends backstage...

108192 stopped midsentence as he noticed something on the ground. Quinton looked down to see what was going on, and noticed 108192's precious photograph, right under his foot. He stepped off of the picture and looked at 108192. Quinton picked up the picture and handed it to the awe struck X-prisoner. The man took the picture, shoved it in his pocket and simply stared at Quinton with his mouth wide open.

Quinton began apologizing profusely but 108192's face became full of rage and anger.

"NOBODY TOUCHES MY PICTURE.... Do you understand me ? NOBODY...."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, it was an accident."

"Do you know what happens to people who FUCK with my picture?"

"Uh, no... I.... I.... I'm not, um, exactly clear on that."

By this time 108192 was advancing on Quinton, who was being forced back slowly. Suddenly, the madman stopped. He smiled and turned around to walk away. Quinton may breathed a sigh of relief because he didn't want to burn any bridges with prospective members of ARMY. He was about to walk away but before he even got the chance, 108192 spun quickly and kicked Quinton as hard as he possibly could, right in the groin.

Quinton dropped like a cinder block in the ocean, as he winced in extreme pain. 108192 grabbed him by the hair and yanked him to his feet, before ramming Quinton's face into the cement walls lining the corridors. He repeated the process a number of times until he threw Quinton through a door, into what appeared to be some kind of dressing room.

108192 discovered a chair in the corner of this room and threw it into poor Quinton's bloody forehead as the groggy fellow tried to get back on his feet. A glass coffee table that sat in the corner of the room was pulled to the middle by 108192. He picked up Quinton and drove his head into the cold floor with a vicious DDT.

"Listen punk... This picture means everything to me, and YOU STEPPED ON IT ! WHO DOES THAT ? WHO THE HELL STEPS ON OTHER GUYS PICTURES, HUH ?"

108192 grabbed him once again by the hair, which was at this point beginning to be soaked with blood.

"Well, you won't be stepping on pictures anymore, you rude bastard !"

108192 scooped Quinton up, and held him there for a second, thinking. He looked at the coffee table, then smiled, before throwing Quinton's limp body down upon it. His back hit first and shattered the glass ! After the table was demolished and the glass dispersed, Quinton's body lay in a mix of glass fragments and blood while 108192 just watched.

As the video came to an end, everybody was shocked when they turned their focus back to the ring; 108192 was already in the ring, dressed simply in a white shirt with those numbers imprinted on the left side, black jeans, and black shoes. He ran his left hand over his bald head, while in his right hand lay a very familiar item.

His precious photograph.

"Some Two Joints" by Sublime filled the arena and the low jeers that were being thrown at 108192 now transformed to astounding cheers. It was the one, the only, the Dictator Of QA.

Quinton May.

He rushed out from the back, dressed as he was earlier in the night. Three straight victories in the ACW so far and he was no doubt looking to extend the streak, even if he did crash to a defeat in midweek over at Icons Of Wrestling. Quincy came very close, however, and some say performed way better than the other two ACW challengers for Karen Pembridge's gold; Scott Perry & Charlie Loc.

Quincy's eyes quickly met those of 108192's and as the latter shoved his picture into the back pocket of his jeans, the bell rung. May slid into the ring and made a beeline for his attacker, who ducked the clothesline and used his momentum to take him into the ropes, coming off with a high-knee smash into Quinton's face. 

108192 was swift to pile on the pressure, as he pulled May up and cracked him across the face with a hard right, before grabbing the back of his head and sent the Dictator Of QA flying into the corner turnbuckle. Advancing menacingly, May struggled to pull himself up, readying himself for whatever 108192 might have in store for him.

But inexplicably, he stopped. And pulled out his picture again, gazing at it remorsefully. This certainly took Quinton May, and everyone else in the arena, by surprise. May shrugged his shoulders and exploded out of the corner with a powerful clothesline. The Dictator landed right on 108192, and took advantage of that by unleashing a barrage of hateful right punches, the crowd cheering him on. 

Eager to gain revenge the sweet way, May pulled his opponent up and whipped him into the ropes, looking to score with a clothesline as 108192 returned. Again, the latter ducked and took himself into the parallel set of ropes, as he sought to connect with an impressive-looking cross body block.

What was more impressive, however, was the way Quinton caught 108192 in mid-air and spun around, slamming him down into the mat in a powerslam. May wasted no time in hooking the legs;

ONE...

TWO...

Not enough to keep 108192 down, who started fighting back with a bunch of stiff punches as Quincy dragged him up. With his punches dazing May, 108192 took a step or so back and measured his opponent, before letting fly with a great roundhouse kick. May fell down to the mat, his hands immediately covering his face. But instead of going for the cover, 108192 drew huge jeers from the crowd for picking up his photograph he dropped earlier and looking at it again.

As if that was the only thing in the world that meant anything to him.

Quinton stirred back to real-time and noticed the X-prisoner's focus being diverted to his photograph again, and hence decided to take advantage; a kick to the kidney area, causing 108192 to arch back in pain... followed with a reverse DDT. And of course, something 108192 possibly knows not of. A cover;

ONE...

TWO...

THR...

108192 kicked out again, which didn't sit down well with the crowd, who felt if he was going to black out every now and then, the bald former convict should have simply stayed down. As it was, Quinton May didn't mind; provided him with the chance to inflict more damage, as he now started smashing 108192's face into the turnbuckle. 

The fifth and final smash drawing a round of applause from the spectators. The impact of the smash saw the X-prisoner stagger around in the ring for a while, before he came face to face with Quincy.

Hard kick to the stomach, forearm smashes to the back of the head. 108192 wasn't liking it one bit.

*CRACK*

A terrific left uppercut left Quinton reeling and as he tried to pull his act together, it was the former convict who went back on the offensive, grounding the Dictator Of QA with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex. The spectators went silent, before groaning; once again, 108192 insisted on picking up his picture and staring at it with his depressed eyes. 

Now pacing while gazing at it, he didn't notice Quinton recovering. And as he raised the picture to his lips, kissing it... and hence, kissing the child and the woman in the picture, he suddenly snapped back to reality.

Quinton May had bounced himself off the ropes and was advancing at him.

The picture slipped out of his hands and 108192 turned to try and knock Quincy down. This time, May ducked and retaliated with a spinning northern-lights slam out of nowhere. And out of nowhere came the referee to count the bridge-pin;

ONE...

TWO...

THREE!!

It was over. Quinton May had gained vengeance and had another victory to add to his scrapbook. He rolled out of the ring, jubilant, with the crowd now chanting his name, pleased that their hero had won in what could be described as a very weird match.

"QUINCY MAMA!"

"QUINCY MAMA!"

"QUINCY MAMA!"

108192 rubbed his bald head in exasperation and grabbed his picture, returning it to the back pocket of his jeans. The former convict rolled out the other side and started fuming, slamming his palms against the announce table. Then, his eyes noticed the ring bell. 108192 stormed over and shoved the timekeeper out of the way, before grabbing the bell and devilishly smiling.

Quinton had no idea. Turning to see why the crowd was now concerned for him, May saw 108192 charging at him.

*CLANG...?*

The Dictator fell to the concrete, as the referee began screaming at 108192. Hateful boos filled the arena, but the X prisoner ignored them. For he had more in store. Much more. He raised the bell over his head and with a maniacal laugh...

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

Four shots to the back of Quinton May's head, who seemed dead-like. 108192 threw the bell at the referee who was trying to restrain him, but thankfully enough, the referee ducked. Quinton wasn't so lucky as he was dragged to the steel-ramp, dragged to his feet and sneered at by the bald psycho that was now attacking him.

"You bastard. Nobody tampers with my picture!"

A kick to the stomach, and a punishing DDT onto the steel-ramp. That was the cue, finally, for ACW officials to come running down to the ramp, as they escorted 108192 away. 

The rest of the officials began tending to Quinton May who looked really bad right there.

Bruised and bloodied. For the second week in a row. This was becoming very personal, and one could assume that repercussions WOULD arise.

Winner: Quinton May

Unknown Intentions

Having destroyed Nature earlier and almost ending the latter's career, one would think Vincent Pembridge would be on cloud nine. 

His ACW debut was looking good so far, but the reason as to why he even signed on with the company was completely unknown. Walking back to his locker-room, Vince sneered at the backstage officials, who were whispering about what a troublemaker the Brit had become so far.

"Bugger off, you cunts!"

Grinning sardonically, Pembridge turned the corner and headed down the hallway, relishing the chance to drink some water. Months away from the industry left him rusty and his stamina had faded. But the man formerly known as Jakks didn't notice someone looking out at him.

No, not the officials he berated just moments earlier.

006.392; the BOY he'd beaten up in the ring last Sunday at Legends.

Not only did Vincent verbally bash some of the superstars on the ACW roster, he interrupted the big speech El Janitors were belting out. Then annihilated them, before decimating the kid. Quinton May didn't particularly enjoy that and set 006.392 on his own personal revenge mission.

Vincent kicked open his locker-room door and slammed it close as he stormed inside but unknown to him, 006.392 had rushed over just in time to prevent the door from slamming completely shut. Inside the room, Vincent grabbed a towel and used to dab the sweat of his forehead, still remembering the methodical way in which he destroyed Nature earlier.

"What a bloody cunt. And a horrendous nickname to boot; Nature. Bah. Does he fancy himself as the savior of flowers and all that bollocks? Bleeding hell, there are so many cunts in this place with awful names. 

Like that twat Rook. I mean, what is that supposed to mean? Rook? Book? Cook? FOOK? 

Meh, it's just as bad as that SilverHAWK tosser."

With the mention of SilverHAWK's name in a negative manner, the arena began to jeer heavily, not appreciating Pembridge now choosing to focus on their hero. But yeah, what are they going to do? Nothing.

"The tosser himself has no ounce of talent in his sodding drug-ridden body, and the name... well, goes along with the colour of his hair!" Vincent mumbles while now sipping some water.

While his other hand delves into his bag and pulls out a folder with a familiar-looking logo on it.

"thReat."

006.392's eyes widened, before he smiled and finally decided he had enough spying, for now.

Intentions are no longer unknown, it seems.

On The Hunt [2]

"HOWARD, SHE IS SO FREAKING HOT!"

"I completely agree, Morris!"

*MUNCH*

"MAN, I HAVE NEVER SEEN A HOTTIE LIKE THAT BEFORE!"

"Do you realise that's the first sentence you've said without the word FREAKING?"

"WHAT ARE YOU FREAKING TRYING TO IMPLY?!"

"Oh, nothing. Anyway, she's hot. Really hot. I think we should, you know, get her to join QA. It beats the hell out of seeing each other dance naked; SHE can dance naked, which would be so much more fun."

"WILL YOU FREAKING STOP BEING A FREAKING PERVERT AND FINISH YOUR HOTDOG?!"

"Okay!"

*MUNCH*

"Let's go for it, Morris. It's better than telling Quinton we haven't made any progress."

With a nod of the head from Janitor Morris, the UNOFFICIAL ACW Tag-Team Champions finish their hotdogs and get up from their seats, walking over nervously to their intended target. Their first target a while ago turned out to be a hotdog vendor who has, by now, become a cross-dresser and aims to take the Las Vegas burlesque dancing scene by storm. Now, who was their next target?

Andy Cole?

Joe Cole?

Al Gore?

El Gore?

Some kid named Lonnie Clark who will go on to become the most electrifying rapper in Texas? Also one-third of the smash hit that's making a comeback, one that comprises of six letters, starts & ends with the letter T in lowercase, and has an uppercase R in there somewhere? Like... t-R--t?

Bobby Knickerson, who will go on to become a worldwide phenomenon even though he gets no love from hamsters?

Ashe Harvay, the minion of the Anti-Christ who strongly believes in anal sex and death to chickens, who is also associated with the term 'RANDOM FIGHT MAN' and claims that some dude named Lance Violin is the biggest batty boy in the history of Merseyside?

Keith Anal-Wedged, a person who Quinton's Army seems to be running into quite a lot lately?

"H-Hello there. You're... JADE, right?"

Yeah, big shock, huh? YOU DIDN'T EXPECT THAT, NOW DID YOU?!? HA!

....

Jade peeled her eyes off the noticeboard she was looking at and faced El Janitors, her face quickly being consumed by confusion; she didn't know who the two weird looking man with ketchup on their chins were and how they knew her name.

"Yes, I'm Jade. Might I ask who you two are?"

"I AM JANITOR MORRIS AND I AM FREAKING SEXY!"

Jade's face scrounged up at the outburst of Morris, who looked as if he was about ready to start breakdancing right then and there. Howard, on the other hand, was somewhat embarrassed and smiled sheepishly at Jade. Who, by the way, had folded her arms and tapped her right foot against the floor impatiently; a waste of time, she felt.

"Sorry about that, my partner's just not been getting enough BJs. Anyway, I was just wondering if you wanted to join Quinton's Army. We could use someone as attractive as you in the group, not to mention your great fighting skills. It would really be a honour and together, we could rule the company and beyond. Hell, maybe we could rule the nachos industry in America; who knows? Joining QA opens that kind of option to you. So... whaddaya say?"

The Jaded One looked at El Janitors, incredulous at what she had just heard. Her return to the ACW only went down one week ago and already, she was being harassed by a couple of freaks who were spewing utter rubbish.

"I'm sorry, I just don't see myself joining a group with the two of you in it. I don't even know what Quinton's Army is, much less know who this Quinton is. But obviously, you two do... so tell him I said you two should be fired from your group."

With those cold words, Jade turned around and walked away as quickly as she could, wanting to get as far away from the UNOFFICIAL ACW Tag-Team Champions as humanly possible.

Howard & Morris turned to look at each other, both heartbroken.

And they held arms, walking back to the boiler room, dejected.

Changes Part 3

After Hawthorn's exit, the next man in Dunn's office was HAWK. After saying hello to a few people and sorting a few things out, HAWK was finally settling back into the fold in ACW...but it wouldn't last long.

"HAWK...you ready?"

HAWK pursed his lips as he looked down at the floor, lifting a small piece of paper on the ground with his foot as he looked back at his long time friend.

"This is it Dunn, Hogan style."

"What do you mean?"

"If I don't win this match...I'm out, for good. I know that I can't go much longer and so do you. Last week was to help a long time friend, and to help you guys. ACW is my homey, it's my best friend, and there was no fucking way I'd let you and Boyd be booted out, you know that right?"

Dunn nodded in agreeance.

"Listen HAWK, I've got a few problems with this match and need your help. You know that we've been cut by half an hour tonight right? Well, I've already cancelled a match in favour of this Rumble, but now it seems like we are gonna overrun, so I need to change the format, what's the quickest way to have a rumble?"

HAWK scratched his beard as he sat on Dunn's desk.

"Quickest way? Probably a mix of battle royal and a rumble then. Just have all the competitors in the ring at the start, first 5 minutes will be chaos but it'll eliminate maybe 4-5 people and then you'll be left with a decent Rumble. How many have you got?"

"15-16?"

"Ouch. We need to recruit Dunny...big time."

"It's OK HAWK, I don't have to worry about that after tonight...you know what I mean?"

"Yeah..."

As HAWK and Dunn chuckled their troubled away, the clock counted down, to possibly the last SilverHAWK match.

Ever.

Piece of Mind, pt. 2.

The images flickered on the screen. On and off, one bad image after the next. Men in Iraq surrendering in fear for their lives, forced to fight a war they didn’t want to fight by a dictator that only cares for himself. Names on the bottom of the screen, a memorial for those soldiers who had died trying to fight against men who are at home in their own country. 

No matter the outcome of war, both sides are always the loser. And there was only one thing that these people had in common.

God.

Jason Kain looked at the screen and shook his head. He knew that they just weren’t seeing the total picture and that if they had just thought of the point of view from God’s perspective, they’d see that this was pointless… and senseless.

As was a comment that Kain just couldn’t get out of his head. Someone in this federation had claimed to be a god. Forever shattering that wrestler’s respect for the one true God. Blasphemer.

Jade looked at Kain when he suddenly turned for the door. Although a bit startled at his movement, she didn’t try and stop him. She knew that he had been distracted for quite a bit, a little still worked up about Dante’s little kidnapping… and the fact that this one ACW “Superstar” had to open his mouth. 

Before he left, he turned back toward Jade.

“Why can’t they just keep their mouth shut?” He shook his head. “Words start wars.”

He turned back toward the doorway, then reiterated as Jade turned her look toward the TV that Kain had been so intently watching.

“Words start wars.”

The closed quietly behind him.

Other Plans?

Vincent Pembridge peeked out of his locker-room, and was surprised. Everybody was running around like bunnies, getting ready for the big Royal Rumble. 

It would definitely be the biggest match in ACW history but as far as the Scorpion Of Manchester was concerned, the entire thing was overrated. Blown out of proportion. It was clear to him who was going to win, anyways. He knew; one look at the list of competitors and he knew.

Not that he liked that person. Vincent didn't really like anybody, to be honest. His rant earlier on proved that.

Closing his door, Pembridge snorted as he walked towards the table and lifted his bag off it, slinging it over his shoulders. The Brit had decided although he was asked to take part in the Rumble, it wasn't worth his time. There were more important things to tend to, he though. Things of a personal nature, things which required careful attention.

"I would win hands-down; where's the bloody fun in that?"

Opening his door, Vince quietly walked down the hallway towards the car park, a million thoughts running through his head. The winner of the Rumble would meet the champion at the next pay-per-view but that was a long time away. 

Too long, he thought. 

If it was next week, the Scorpion Of Manchester would probably be putting on his boots now, his mind focused on the goal. As it was, next Sunday was to be a very special day for the Scorpion Of Manchester. Only he knew why.

"MR PEMBRIDGE! Where are you going?!? The super-cool Rumble is up next, you've been entered in!"

"Sod off, you cunt. Got other plans."

The backstage official stood there, mouth gaping open in shock. The former UFF legend had come to ACW, destroyed a few people, verbally abused a few other people... and when the chance to prove how supremely physical he was arose, the Scorpion Of Manchester didn't seem bothered at all. He smiled while opening the doors to the parking lot, even whistling.

Weird, considering how Vincent Pembridge always seems to be in a bad mood.

Then, out of nowhere, 006.392 jumped out of nowhere, with what seemed to be a baguette in his hand. Panicking, Vincent dropped his bag and ducked the swinging baguette, before turning around and kicking the kid in the face. 

006.392 screamed in dismay, his nose now broken, his trusty baguette now in the grip of The Scorpion Of Manchester.

"So, you're the cunt I thrashed up last week, aye?"

"Aye? What are you, the Queen of England?!"

*OOF*

Another kick to the face from Vincent, who now snickered at the punishment he was dishing out. It looked as if he was steamrolling over whoever was brave enough to stand up to the degenerate in the company, which said a lot of things. One, the brave ones were cunts. Two, the others were bleeding cunts. Three, the whole company was overflowing with bleeding and rotting cunts.

Word of the day; CUNT.

"I'll tell you what, pillock. If you give me a reason as to why I shouldn't eat this baguette right now, I won't bloody murder you."

"FUCK YOU! THAT'S MY BAGUETTE! FUCK YOU, MAN!"

With that, Vincent broke the baguette in two by crushing it over his knee, before he pulled 006.392 up and sent him flying face-first into the wall. As the kid slumped down to the ground, a trail of blood was left on the fall and Pembridge smiled.

When you've taken a while to conjure a plan that's bound to work and establish yourself... and at the same time, caused loads of destruction, a smile is somewhat deserved, eh?

"Tell your mates that Vincent Pembridge hasn't got the time to deal with twats!"

*CRASH*

The Scorpion Of Manchester dusted his hands and picked up his duffel bag, whistling again as he disappeared into the darkness of the parking lot, assumedly looking for his car. As for 006.392? His baguette lay on the ground, now being attacked by ants... and he himself rolled off the hood of the car of which windshield he was just hurled through.

Bloodied, cut all over... and overall, just completely mauled.

The Legal Eagle

Magick Man looked at his copy of the match contract in Geo's locker room with his glasses on making sure that he read everything perfectly. He put the paper down and sighed. 

"Yep, he's got you...you can't touch him, kid."

It was a familiar scene at this point: Magick Man reading off the match contract and Geo getting the news he didn't want to hear. Geo shuck his head.

Magick put his glasses down. 

"Kid, you're getting screwed. I don't know what to do about it.. I bet we could talk to Dunn and Boyd and I bet we could get some lawyers involved and we could probably get the contract voided.."

Geo smirked. 

"No, no.. I'll do the match.. Annnd.. I'll stay away from Dubbs until it happens. That's not what I'm concerned about at the moment.. What I'm concerned about is.. tonight's main event. Both of us are in it. Can I go after him or..?"

Magick narrowed his eyebrows and put his glasses back on to review the paper. After reading it over a few times he seemed to have come to a conclusion. 

"Well.. It doesn't mention a match prior to the actual title defense.. So it's tough to say. But.. I'm gonna have to say that since this is a match that both of you are signed into.. And I'm sure that Dunn and Boyd know all the stipulations of the Dubbs match, so they wouldn't make another match that contradicted.. Yeah, kid, I'd say you can with out a doubt go after Dubbs tonight."

An enormous smile came over the face of Vacton as Magick spoke those words. He pumped his fist. "All right, so tonight.. I'll give him an ass kicking that'll hold until he decides to put that match up!" 

The crowd, who could see and hear everything from the big screen, roared. "And after tonight.. When he finally puts up his match... I'm gonna show him what Vactomonium is all about.. I'm gonna let every sing Vactonyte out there get a few hits on 'im before I lay 'im down and finish him once and for all.. 'Cos I'm T-N-T, I'm Dy-No-Mite!"

Alias Vs. ‘Impulse’ Brian James

    

Sitting on the steps that led up and out onto the ramp, Alias took another drag from his cigarette. Inside of his head, he was preparing himself for what he knew was about to take place. ‘Impulse’ Brian James… the guy had retired Jon Crisp, what, a month ago from 21w? 

Not to think for a moment that the fact that he was a Hall of Famer over at Xw was any less important. 21st Century Wrestling… his newest, and some would say, most high profile home, was about to make its first official appearance in the only place Alias could truly call home, his federation, All-Star Championship Wrestling. 

Just moments after his theme would be cued up… the audience would scream in adulation, he'd be inside of the ring, face to face with a hardened, yet still young, ring veteran like himself. It was moments like the ones that he was currently having, though, that maintained his thoughts away from the most doubting question.

He took another drag.

Who had the balls to repaint Ethan Winters dash? That seemed to be the current nagging question for Alias. Still… in winning at Legends he had successfully defeated a very malevolent part of his past, both figuratively… and literally. A foreboding doubt still hung in his mind, would he be able to move on from his past? He took a prolonged look at the glistening Television Championship strapped around his waist.

 

Then took another drag.

 

“Not Over” by The Full Nine.

 

Alias heard his music cue up. Taking a final drag from his cigarette, he tossed if off onto the empty concrete below. Exhaling the smoke, he stood and turned towards the entrance. He took the step that led out onto the ramp, onward towards the ring…

Huge Fuckin Pop… extended pop… hell, the fans weren’t going to be sitting down anytime soon it seemed.

All Alias could do was smile to himself, it was moments like these when all the aches and pains… all of them, meant nothing. The Original Pulp Hero paced slowly down the ramp, soaking all the cheers, all the screams in… he couldn’t believe the events of the last week… wow. 

Slapping the hands of a few fans at ring side he finally picked up the pace and slid under the bottom rope and into the ring. Alias hopped onto the nearest turnbuckle and raised a taped fist to the exuberant crowd. 

He unlatched the TV strap from around his waist and then held it up with the other fist. Flashbulbs popped off here and there… as the Television Championship glistened in the hands of the crowds most cherished hero, there savior.

“Pieces” by Hoobastank.

Impulse… Brian… James…

The cheers in the crowd once again rose up as IBJ took a couple of seconds to acknowledge a couple of reachable front row fans wearing his t-shirt, and holding up signs with his name on it. He slapped a few hands before turning his attention to the ring, and his opponent.

 ‘Impulse’ Brian James slid in and walked directly into the face of Alias, nodding to him for a moment, before turning his back to him, to take off his shirt. Throwing it to the side of the ring, he rose a fist up to the crowd. IBJ then walked over to Alias in the middle of the ring, the fans still cheered anxiously.

Alias and IBJ shook hands.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

It was on.

Alias begins to lay in a series of rights to the face, catching IBJ off-guard and knocking him into the ropes. Alias sets to whip him across, but IBJ reverses it. Brian James puts his head down, and Alias leapfrogs him and keeps going into the ropes. IBJ gets up and turns, and Alias, coming off, leaps into the air and blasts him with a flying forearm. Alias makes the cover, but Impulse kicks out quickly, before the count even reaches two.

As the two men make it to there feet, Alias immediately dives for a leg, but IBJ is able to back out of it and spin through. They lock up, and Alias sends Brian James into the corner. Before the referee can make a count, Alias whips the 21w superstar cross- corner, and follows through with a hard clothesline. 

IBJ is rocked, but still on his feet. Another cross- corner whip, and another clothesline. A third cross- corner whip, but as Alias runs in for the clothesline, IBJ gets a leg up and kicks the Original Pulp Hero in the face. Alias, rocked, is turned around and staggers forward a step. IBJ moves quickly, hoisting himself up to the second turnbuckle and bulldogging Alias to the mat. Alias is quick to his knees, but still holding his forehead with one hand. IBJ kept up the offensive, leaning back into the ropes and coming off quickly - dropping a leg on the back of Alias's neck. 

He grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet, and whipped him into the ropes. Alias came off the ropes, and ducked a clothesline. He bounded back, and IBJ leapfrogged over his head. 

The Cowtown Conquistador went for a backdrop, but he dropped his head a moment too soon, and Alias was able to put on the brakes and hook his body for a wicked high angle powerbomb, but James fought it valiantly, hooked his legs behind Alias's neck, and took him down with a headscissors.

IBJ shot to his feet and began to lay the boots to Alias as he stumbled to his feet. ‘Impulse’ Brian James carelessly walked in, as Alias gave him a hard knee to the midsection, causing IBJ to bend over, setting him up for a tornado implant DDT. Alias jumped to his feet, lifting his arms in the air… he was starting to get pretty damn pumped. 

He picked IBJ up and executed a gut- wrench suplex... before dropping down for the cover. One... two... Brian James kicked out.

Alias picked up IBJ and then sent a solid elbow to the back of the IBJ’s head, causing him to end up in the corner. Alias hoisted Brian James up top... then began to make his way up, with him. Alias pointed to a couple of kids, cheering him on, before grasping  IBJ around the waist in an attempt at a Belly to Belly Suplex, the Big Fat Kill. However, IBJ hooked his legs on to the top rope and elbowed the Original Pulp Hero a couple of times in the side of the head, causing Alias to go crashing down to the mat... IBJ, now on top looking down…

Distorting the Airwaves

 … and connected with the moonsault frog splash on the fallen Alias. IBJ continued prone on top of Alias for the cover...

One...

two...

thre--...

Alias got his shoulder up at the last second. Seeing his opponent down, IBJ picked him up and placed him across the middle rope. He delivered a few kicks to the head and chest, and, like a cat, sprung to the top rope. Alias had picked himself up somewhat, but before he could make heads or tails of where he was, let alone gain sight of his opponent and do something to counter his plans, IBJ made a leap of faith, catching Alias across the back of the head with a thunderous guillotine legdrop.

IBJ did a hand spring back to his feet… he was hyped, this was his match… he could be another promotion’s champion… heh, that would be wicked sweet yo! IBJ straightened himself out and then got in his tae kwon doe ready stance, Alias was about to taste the Cry of the Seraphim. 

The Original Pulp Hero got up to his feet, he was groggy and he seemed, in the eyes of his crowd, to be out of it. IBJ rushed forward an looked to execute a vicious front snap kick to start off the chain of hits… Alias however had other plans.

Alias jumped back for a split second and caught IBJ in mid-kick, pulling him tighter he heaved him up and over his head with a big capture suplex sending the crowd into a frenzy. With a second wind Alias jumped up to the top rope and without a moment’s hesitation, launched himself out towards IBJ who lay prone in the middle of the ring.

Glasgow Kiss.

The swandive headbutt cracked against IBJ, as both men bounced up from the canvas. Alias stumbled to his feet and shook out the cobwebs from the masochistic aerial maneuver.  

He stomped at IBJ’s downed body before bringing the Cowtown Conquistador to his feet. Suddenly IBJ shot back again with a right, Alias returned a right, IBJ shot another punch Alias’s way but was rebuffed, Alias brought another right done into IBJ and it hit, and then another and finally Alias sent a knee into IBJ’s midsection, quelling the comeback. Alias took IBJ’s doubled over position to his advantage, raining a Muay Thai influenced combo into IBJ.

A hard cross punch from the left followed by a roundhouse punch from the right a rapid knocked IBJ for a loop and then a high kick into a low kick took Alias’s challenger off his feet. Alias immediately grabbed IBJ’s feet and locked in the sharpshooter.

“Wake the devil!”

Alias screamed out the move’s name as IBJ writhed in agony looking for a way out of the painful submission. The ropes where only a foot or two away… if only he could reach them. IBJ slowly dragged his battered body towards the ropes, Alias trying to keep him as far from the ropes as possible, but to no avail as IBJ finally grasped the bottom rope. Alias immediately released the hold and brought Brian James to his feet.

Alias whipped IBJ towards the rope, but was reversed and was sent into the ropes instead. IBJ leapfrogged Alias, then as Alias was coming back the other way he went for a spear only for IBJ to roll off of his back. Alias come off the ropes for the third and final time as IBJ launched himself towards Alias with a flying clothesline… Alias, on instinct, jumped out and off to the side just enough to grab IBJ’s arm in midair and hook around to lock him in a full nelson, planting his face squarely in the center of the ring. The crowd cheered in delight as Alias maneuvered slightly for a better position, before pulling back on the incredibly painful submission.

Anarchy’s Lullaby.

Alias gritted his teeth. ‘Impulse’ Brian James yelled out in pain. The referee maneuvered for position and yelled out to IBJ, over the crowd, if he wanted to quit. IBJ furiously shook his head, not now… no. This only caused Alias to pull back even tighter, distorting IBJ’s shoulders and back even more. Finally, after nearly a minute in the hold, the pain was to much for the 21w superstar.

“Faaaauck… I quit.”

The referee called for the bell and once again the crowd exploded in cheers. “Not Over” by The Full Nine blared over the PA system as the ref handed Alias his TV strap and rose his had in victory. Alias jumped on the turnbuckle and rose the belt to the cheers of the crowd, before finally jumping back down and with sportsmanship, helping his tremendous opponent to his feet. The two men shook hands before IBJ rolled slowly out of the ring finishing off his ACW appearance; he knew the pain in his back would subside after a few ice packs and a good days rest.

Alias continued standing in the middle of the ring, he smiled… he had saved his company, and defeated two Hall of Famers all in the span of just two weeks… next week would be something to watch for. Tonight?

Tonight, Alias still had one more match… for the World Championship #1 contender spot.

Winner: Alias

Piece of Mind, pt. 3.

I’ll have you, I’ll have you… WISHING FOR…
I’ll have you, I’ll have you… WISHING FOR…
I’ll have you, I’ll have you… WISHING FOR…
I’ll have you, I’ll have you… WISHING FOR…
A QUICK DEATH!!!!

BOOM!

The pyro went off, as the purple and orange spotlights turned on panning around the arena. The lights were completely out in the arena, and the crowd rumbled… suddenly the spotlights caught movement in the crowd as suddenly Jason Kain came rushing to the ring, pushing through the masses. The crowd cheered wildly as Kain jumped the guardrail, and the psychotic music continued. 

He jumped to the apron, then climbed into the ring. Turning to the crowd, he hopped to the middle rope and raised his arms over his head putting up the thumb and pinky out on both hands then connecting them, thumb to thumb, making a large spark behind him as the house lights flashed back to life.

He hopped back of the ropes and turned to the center of the ring looking down as a microphone was tossed to him. He caught it without even looking at it, really, then looked around the arena. He pulled the mic up and held his thumb and pinky in the air before starting with the classic words… as the crowd chanted along…

“NOW SUCK ON THIS!!!”

The pause after the phrase made the crowd explode and he paused even longer for the crowd to quiet a bit before going on.

“I’ve been watching a lot of TV lately. But Malcolm In The Middle wasn’t on this week. Instead I saw more of the same horrifying uselessness that has been on for the past week. More news on this war. Something that should have never happened in the first place.” The crowd suddenly had a mixed reaction, something that Kain seemed to be expecting, because it didn’t stop him one bit.

“This country was founded on Christian beliefs. This country was founded on the freedom of following God, Allah, whatever one God you believe in, in whichever way you wanted. Not to go and kill the others that don’t believe your way. Iraq doesn’t believe that way. And yet we have the gall to go and interfere in it.”

Now the crowd was booing. It was a fairly reasonable reaction, considering the topic of the speech.

“Well, I understand why we’re doing it… and believe me, I support, and pray for our soldiers every day. God bless our soldiers. But that’s just it…”

The crowd’s reaction became quiet, trying to hear what he was going to say.

“Someone in this federation seems to think HE’S God. Someone in this federation has the audacity to claim himself as God on national Television!? What kinda of idiot blasphemes in pure public? If this were Iraq, he would have been stoned for heresy… and yet we just sit back and watch it as if it were nothing… Hell, when David Koresh claimed himself as the reincarnation of Jesus Christ, we gunned his ass down. And yet we let a loser such as the man that couldn’t seal the deal at Legends, claim himself as God?”

The crowd started rumbling…

“Now I’m going to look at you people and tell me, WHO THE FUCK DOES OSYRUS THINK HE IS SAYING THAT WE WRESTLERS SHOULD PRAY TO THE ‘RING GOD?’ That is utter crap and you all know it. This has been disturbing me for quite a while at that… since if I remember correctly, I didn’t get to say much after that little situation. So now that my distraction is out in the open, I want that arsehole to get his ass out here and look me in the eye, and tell me he’s God. Go ahead, speak it to my face!!!”

He waited watching the entryway for a moment. Then closed his eyes, shaking violently, then turning away lifting the mic back to his lips.

“As proven, not only is he NOT here… in his ‘Temple’… But he’s not answering my ‘prayer…’ …Some god, he’s turned out to be huh? Well, this leaves a challenge, Osy… can I call you Osy? Well, Osy… You’ve heard me, when you get the chance after wiping your ass… Come out here and show me up. Prove me wrong. Because when it comes down to it… “god” or not… there’s only nine words that you’ll be facing…”

The crowd stood up in a frenzy, chanting along…

“YOU THINK YOU HAVE A CHANCE!?!?!?!?!?!?”

The pause was electrifying, as Kain lifted his hand slowly to the air, hand with the thumb and pinky out… And the crowd chanted along again…

“DIDN’T THINK SO!!!!!”

**A QUICK DEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAATH!!!!!**

The music pumped loudly, as Kain threw the mic to the mat, before climbing out and walking up the ramp; the crowd cheering louder than the music by far.

A Severe Blow Has Been Dealt

It hadn't been a particularly great week for Quinton May, ever since the bell rang last week at Legends to signify that he had indeed defeated Ron Williams in what can be described as a stellar match that had some people looking at May with newfound respect. Quinton had gotten clobbered at the hands of the man he'd tried to recruit earlier; 108192.

Following that, Vincent Pembridge made his shocking return back to the public scene and did so by decimating the rest of Quinton's Army, who truly were no match for him. 

And this past Wednesday, Quincy came quite close in the quest for eternal glory when he was invited over to Icons Of Wrestling, to compete in a Gauntlet Match for the Cruiserweight Title against Vincent's sister, Cruiserweight Champion Karen Pembridge. Close, but not close enough.

Today, however, May defeated 108192 after a strange match... but the beatdown he'd received after the match from 108192 was shocking. It brought back shades of Dane Rivers obliterating the Canadian many months back; an attack that went on to boil over into a violent feud.

"Men, a severe blow has been dealt here. I'm too banged up, I can't take part in the Royal Rumble."

His words, doused with extreme poignancy, hit El Janitors like daggers through their heart. It was crushing, seeing their leader bloodied and bruised in front of them, in the boiler room. 006.392 was being attended to elsewhere and ToK... was missing. May truly wasn't in any shape to compete in the Rumble and his dream of possibly winning the match had ended without even beginning. He didn't really believe he stood a strong enough chance but with his recent string of victories in the ACW, one might have backed the eccentric Canadian to come out of the match the new #1 Contender.

Alas, we'll never know.

"But I want you two to go out there and do the best. The kid is out as well, ToK apparently can't take part, and Ron... I don't know about him. I have a feeling he'll come around soon enough but he needs time. In any case, men, go out there and do me proud. Try your best. Tomorrow, we pick up the pieces. We'll come back stronger than ever and we'll prove that Quinton's Army is a true force to be reckoned with!"

Morris looked at Howard and then back at Quinton; their Dictator's inspiring words meant a lot to them. And then, El Janitors saluted

But did Quinton himself mean what he said or was he just putting on a brave front?

Early troubles for the Army. How they respond from here on out will be critical.

Critical to their survival.

Blood Sucking

Ron Williams carefully strides backstage - as he has been doing for most of the show. He seems anxious and upon hearing a slight noise turns, startled by his own nervousness. He approaches his locker room door and turns the knob. The door has a stained glass window on it - not what you’d really expect from a wrestling federation. He twists the doorknob and enters, as the camera remains outside of the locker room. 

Once again - just like last week at Legends, a monstrous shadow appears from round the corner, thundering down on the concrete with solid footsteps. Ron seems to block out all sound and dumps his gym bag, which until now was slumped over his shoulder, onto the wooden bench in front of him. He turns away from the wall, and faces the door. Suddenly his eyes change direction, his head lowering itself. And there…..lying ‘face down’ on the floor….is a note. 

Ron walks forward, evaluating the tricky situation he is in. He thinks momentarily about whether to pick up the note or not, and who it is from. Within seconds the note is in his hands, as he pulls each folded side apart, preventing them from overlapping. Before he can read the note he is alerted to scarlet blood….slowly running down his arm. He sucks the blood off of his arm, anticipating that the blood has arrived from a paper-cut perhaps, or something similar. Until now that is. 

Ron looks at the note…and his facial expression changes dramatically. The note is written not in ink, not in lead…but in blood. Human blood. He reads it out, whispering to himself. 

“Beware” it states in crimson letters. He shudders as the eeriness of the note finally hits home. He stares at the note, imagining a brutal death at the hands of his assumed attacker. He shakes his head and puts the note into his gym bag….attempting to ignore its content. He looks down at his arm and wipes some more of the fresh blood off of his arm….as the camera focuses (rather oddly) on the stained glass window. 

There is someone on the other side. 

Ron turns his head and comes in contact with the window…and evidently bears witness to the person at the other side. He runs to the door, quickly but yet cautiously. He turns the door-knob with his heart thumping, not knowing whether this is the right thing to do. 

The door swings open. 

Ron gets out into the corridor just in time to see the fleeing shadow of the now infamous Ms Hillary Small. 

Changes

It had been a reception that they had never expected, but as Dunn and Boyd made their way down to the ring, the fans in the arena went hay-wire, as the duo had finally grasped a hold of their federation once again, and would have even if Winters had not been murdered last Sunday night.

"Last week was an eye opener for myself, and Boyd here. 

Last week, 5 of our guys won the special gauntlet type match which gave myself, and Boyd an overwhelming majority share in ACW, which therefore made us full owners again, something we had not been since we allowed Ethan Winters to buy the shares around a year ago.

But late Sunday night, early Monday morning I received a phone call...which told me that Winters' body had been found in an alley in New Jersey, not far away from where the show was being held"

For the fans who didn't know about the murder, shock traveled around the arena, humanity was alive after all.

"Now...even though Winters may have been a hated man in ACW, nobody wanted to see it come to this. Through this whole week, I have been helping the FBI who are currently going into this case, due to Winters' high profile in certain circles of entertainment, but so far, we have got nowhere. I'm calling out to anyone who may have seen Winters in his car last week to come forward to either ACW or the police and give a statement..."

"Seekn'destroy" by SoulFly.

SilverHAWK.

Confusion.

HAWK strutted down to the ring at a rather bad time most people would think, but he still got a huge pop as he jumped into the ring and collected a microphone from one of the ring staff.

"Dunn, Boyd...in all respect to you guys, this is your night and you shouldn't have you be doing this at this time, this could have waited till next week. Ethan Winters drove both of you to the edge, so much in fact that you two had to build an army to take him and Winters INC down. Winters was a heartless son of a bitch, who had no regard for anyone but himself...ACW is finally rid of him forever, and that's something we should all be happy as fuck about."

HAWK's hatred was clear, and who would blame him. Winters had fired him once, punished him for winning titles, and then screwed him out of the biggest prize in ACW, the World Title. Boyd nodded his head and he was given the microphone by Dunn.

"The main reason that myself and Dunn came out here tonight was because we had an announcement about the future of ACW, and that announcement is that...we're leaving."

Silence followed by cry's from the crowd sounded their disappointment.

"I know...I know...we've battled for months now to win our federation back, and when we finally do so, we leave. The reason we are doing so is because we seen the manage that can be done by greed in this business. It's happened in other federations as well as our own, and we just don't want to see it happen again. Winters ruled ACW solely, and it was not the best thing for ACW, the best thing is to have the wrestlers fight the wars out for themselves, and that is what we are planning to do.

We will leave ACW, as the majority shareholders and we will leave ACW in the hands of 5 men. These men have been part of the ACW for years now, some of them you will know, the others you won't. These men will be responsible for the booking of matches, shows, angles and whatever else has to go with ACW. Myself and Dunn will be in the shadows, just a phone call away for anyone who needs us, be it wrestler, staff or fan...

Guys, c'mon out."

The whole arena changed there view as they watched 4 men come out from the backstage. All of them were clearly former wrestlers, even though they were getting on a bit, they where in shape, and they were looking eager.

"Ladies and gentlemen...your new ACW leaders; Jimmy Gonz, Fonzi Barthello, Joe Bishop, John Stern and there main man...SilverHAWK!"

The arena exploded as HAWK jumped out of the ring to join his new staff. All 5 had been friends for years in ACW, they knew each other like brothers, and now they were going to run ACW as a group...

"But our last act for now in ACW will be the next match...an old school Royal Rumble for a shot at the next PPV for the ACW World Heavyweight Champion, ICU. 

It's been a pleasure and a privilege..."

ACW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP 
#1 CONTENDER MATCH UP
ROYAL RUMBLE
FEATURING: Alias, A*Dubbs, Charlie Loc, Dane Rivers, Dante Inferno, Geo Vacton, Jason Kain, Osyrus, Ron Williams, Scott Perry, SilverHAWK, Jade, Janitor Howard and Janitor Morris

       

"Ladies and Gentlemen...the next match is for a shot at the ACW World Heavyweight Championship at ACW's next Pay per View event, Pain or Pleasure. The rules are as follows, each of the competitors, as you can see in front of me, will be in the ring from the very start, and it will be the last man standing whom has won the shot of a World Title chance. The rules are simple, to be eliminated you have to be put over to the top, and both of your feet have to touch the ground..."

The crowd roared as the ring tender placed the ring bell in the air as he smashed it against a small metal pole to announce this match started, and in the ring, began total chaos.

With these special rules, everyone was in the ring at the very start, there was barely any space to move in the ring as 14 wrestlers had invaded the ring. It would have been more, if for certain circumstances that didn't leave wrestlers injured, and others just big headed...but as the 14 men began to fight against one another, all bets were off.

The match started as a wave of action, as the 14 men began, they all began on picking on the person next to them. Osyrus and Jason Kain began to go at it in the corner as SilverHAWK and Dane Rivers slugged it out with right hands in the middle of the ring, there were interesting contests all over the ring, but it was just a matter of time before some of the competitors were slugged over the top rope to bring some order back to the match.

The first two to go, where the two Janitors.

Obviously not favorites in the match at the beginning, and certainly not now, as at opposite ends of the ring, Dante Inferno clotheslined Janitor Howard over the top rope as on the other side, Alias dropkicked Janitor Morris in the face as he then fell over the ropes before smashing into the ground below. The crowd were having a hard time checking up on everyone, as wrestlers moved from one opponent to the next after a flurry of blows and then a hard shot which put the other one out of commission.

SilverHAWK had Dane Rivers flat out in the corner of the ring, as HAWK battered him with right hands, Rivers slid down the turnbuckle until HAWK could only stomp away on the former Winters INC member, but HAWK's attention was soon taken away from Rivers, as Osyrus jumped him from the back with an axe handle, as they two began to slug it out.

The next two competitors to leave the match were another pair that you wouldn't think wouldn't have stayed in long, but they were not put out of the ring on purpose. Ron Williams had started the match off well, an initial battle with Charlie Loc had him in good spirits as he began to build up a decent streak, but as he looked to clothesline A*Dubbs out of the ring, Dubbs was clever enough to duck, only to leave Jade, who had started off up against Dante Inferno, being left wide open as both Jade and Williams toppled over the top rope in a heap.

After a quiet start, of more or less keeping himself out of trouble, Scott Perry took some of the attention in the ring as he crept up behind Charlie Loc before hooking his neck and planning him with a reverse DDT. 

They had both competed in a small Cruiser Tournament in IOW earlier in the week, were they had come to blows late on in the match, and it didn't look like they were taking it easy as Perry mounted Loc and began to pummel down hard on his opponent with right hands to the face. 

Perry was soon off Loc however, not by his own accord, but by a drop kick to the face from Geo Vacton, who then moved over to help out SilverHAWK in the corner.

Both Rivers and Osyrus were taking their turns on the former ACW World Champion, and now staff member, but as Vacton spun Rivers around and planted him to the mat with a DDT, it gave Osyrus enough time to measure a clothesline on Vacton as he got to his feet, only for HAWK to burst out of the corner and do the same to Osyrus, only for Dante to grab HAWK's stomach and slam him to the mat with a German Suplex.

As Alias had A*Dubbs almost over, Charlie Loc moved over to try and push Alias over, trying for a double whammy for his account, only for Alias to hit him with a sharp elbow and then a neckbreaker which let him, and A*Dubbs off the hook and he scrambled to pull himself back in the ring and help Loc attack the Legends winner Alias in the corner of the ring. 

As HAWK made it to his feet after a huge German by Inferno, he scanned the ring to find the big red bastard, before clocking him stomping on Geo Vacton in the corner.

HAWK moved over and tapped him in the shoulder, before smashing him in the face with a huge right hand which sent Dante reeling on the ropes. HAWK backed off and then ran forward for an attempted clothesline which should in turn should have sent Dante over the ropes, but as Dante got his wits about him, Dante dropped to the floor in a heap and pulled the top rope down as HAWK charged towards it, only for Vacton to intervene at the very last moment.

Although it may have not been the nicest thing to do to a man you respect, Vacton half blocked, half clotheslined HAWK so that he wouldn't go over the top rope. 

A huge pop came from the crowd as Vacton got up, but as he got up, Dante slammed him with his own clothesline, and before he knew it, Vacton was tasting plastic mat outside of the ring. 

Dante sneered down at Vacton as the US Champion looked up, as Dante booted HAWK in the face and then went around to work on someone else.

As Dante passed them by, Charlie Loc had Scott Perry pretty much over the ropes in an old WWF trick, as they struggled to get one another over the ropes. As Kain picked himself up from a little squabble with A*Dubbs, he looked around before charging at the two, before grabbing Loc's legs and pushing them both over the top rope. Loc fell on Perry and immediately looked at Kain, and then went to work on Perry.

"It's your fault!" he screamed as he placed boot marks on Perry's chest.

7 men left, coincidentally...

3 Resistance, 4 Winters INC.

Even though it had been going that way for most of the match, it was now split between the two teams. As Alias and Rivers began to square off in one corner of the ring, A*Dubbs and Osyrus had SilverHAWK in the corner of the ring, as they both took theirs turns on the ACW legend. In the middle of the ring however was the main attraction at that point, Jason Kain and Dante Inferno battled it out in the middle of the ring, exchanging right hands as the action moved back and forward.

As Kain attempted a right hand, Dante blocked it, and then head butted Kain square in the face, before slamming him to the mat which a gut wrench power bomb. He got to his feet and looked down at his nemesis from the last 2-3 months of ACW, but as he did his expression changed from sheer confidence, to confusion, and soon the rest of the crowd where confused.

Dante eliminated himself...

He jumped over the top rope and then made his way into the ground, but it soon became evident just why he did so, he was chasing the only silver haired man in the arena, Simli. 

As Dante traveled through the crowd, Simli fled out of the arena, as Dante followed, the focus was then back on the ring. 

With it now 3 Vs. 3, all things were now even, and even more in the mix. Alias had A*Dubbs in a sleeper hold in the corner of the ring, as he tried to wretch all the energy of the young potential.

Osyrus took Kain from behind as he got up from Dante powerbomb, as Dane Rivers chocked HAWK in the corner of the ring. Osyrus however took Kain by the neck and threw him over the top rope and out of the rumble...or so he thought. 

The athletic Kain kept his balance on the ring apron, and then jumped up on the tope rope before shooting himself off and dropkicking Osyrus in the face...the impact was so much Osyrus stumbled to the ropes and was out of it, and a prime target.

Kain charged.

Kain missed.

Osyrus flipped him over the top rope.

The cunning two time World Champion dropped to the mat and shook off the cobwebs as Alias let go of A*Dubbs and moved over to Osyrus, kicking him in the ribs. 

It was adamant to Alias' condition that he had lasted this long, even after a match earlier in the night, but it was sure that winning the match last week would have placed his confidence sky high. 

Alias picked Osyrus to his feet and slung him into the corner, as HAWK began to get the best of Rivers in the other.

In true cheesy fashion they both whipped their foes into the center of the ring, only for both Rivers and Osyrus top reverse the twist, but HAWK and Alias were just as quick. HAWK stopped and opened his legs as Alias baseball slid through them, as HAWK continued and clotheslined Osyrus' head off, Alias got up quickly and speared Rivers out of his shorts.

But all was not good, as Dubbs got up, he targeted HAWK as he got to his feet. As HAWK turned around all he seen was Dubbs charging at him, and there was nothing that he could do as Dubbs took a hold of him and both men toppled over the top rope, but, as HAWK's body splattered on the mat, Dubbs held on to the ropes, only one foot touched the floor as he pulled himself up on the apron and thrust his arms in the air.

"I GOT THAT NUCKA! YAS!"

The whole arena boo'd as Dubbs cheered about putting the legendary HAWK out of the competition, but he was soon ruing the day he did so. Before he knew it, his feet were swiped away from him, and soon enough he feel face first into the ring apron before being turned around, and facing HAWK!

"Stupid bastard!"

breakDOWN!

The crowd popped big time as HAWK ko'd Dubbs, but the fact still remained that HAWK was out, and that left three men in there.

The crowd grew in noise once again however, as Geo Vacton came out of nowhere and began attacking A*Dubbs. They had been separated for most of the match but Vacton seen it as his opportunity to get one over on the man whom holds a title show against him. Vacton tossed Dubbs over the barricade as the duo fought out through the crowd.

It was not looking good for Alias.

As HAWK walked to the back, he watched eagerly as Alias was now on his feet, as Rivers and Osyrus were still recuperating from the previous spot involving a clothesline and a spear. 

Alias moved over to Osyrus first and picked him up, he pushed him into the corner of the ring, Osyrus' head slamming against the top turnbuckle as he slouched down, as Alias kicked the shit out of Osyrus, but not before long, the Man Mountain was on his case.

Rivers squashed Alias into the turnbuckle with a running splash, which missing Osyrus completely as he was at the bottom of the corner. Rivers then took Alias into the center of the ring and tried a suplex, but Alias squirmed out of it, but he was just a second back on his feet, when Osyrus jumped him with a reverse bulldog.

"Won't this fucker ever die? Let's put him the fuck out Rivers..."

Back in Winters INC mode, Rivers and Osyrus pulled Alias to his feet, and Osyrus then too the prerogative as he too Alias to the ropes and heaved him up, trying to put him over. 

The noise from the fans grew, and soon enough, Osyrus knew what all the commotion was all about. Rivers, took both Osyrus and Alias, and pushed them over the top rope!

"YESSS!!"

Osyrus bounced off the mat and instantly growled as he looked into the ring to see Rivers lift his arms in the air, but Osyrus then looked up to the apron, as Alias, clutched on with his dear life. 

Osyrus' Winters INC instinct would be to pull Alias down for Rivers to win, but instead, Osyrus stood up and began to walk up the ramp, as Alias pulled himself into the ring. With his back turned...Rivers was oblivious, until he watched Osyrus walking up the ramp.

The Screen.

Alias charged, but Rivers was soon turning too, in fact, Rivers side stepped Alias, and then grabbed a hold of the back of his head...to help him over the top rope. 

Finally, Rivers had won it...and as Alias met the mat, Osyrus turned around and looked back into the ring, as he watched the new #1 Contender rejoice in the ring.

For Osyrus, this was not his last chance at a third World Champion term.

For Rivers...this was his first, and a huge change, to put himself in the record books as the 4th ever ACW World Champion.

Winner: Dane Rivers

Pretending

He grabbed his things, proud of himself. 

He had left the bag by the door, as he didn't want to stay here any longer than he had too, as he had the reoccurring dreams. 

He opened the door, grabbed his bag, and turned around, only to be bumped by ICU.

His bag fell to the ground, an ACW World Championship belt falling out, and a black and white photo.

Dane knew ICU didn't want a confrontation, and neither did he. 

What he was more concerned about was the belt that had just fell out of his grasp. 

It couldn't have been ICU's, he had his around his waist. Dane picked the belt up, looking at the back. The note sealed with tape told him who it was from.

"You can pretend for awhile -- Ethan Winters."

He stuffed the belt back into his bag, as he looked over to ICU, examining the picture that had fallen out. Dane walked over, snatching it out of his hands, smiling at ICU. 

He had gotten his wish, and in Dane's mind, ICU had gotten his death wish. 

He walked out the arena doors, ICU never saying a word until he was gone...

"Mom?"