ACW Scorpion Title Fight
Vincent Pembridge Vs. Jason Reaves Vs. Ron Williams Vs. 006.392 Vs. General David Sanders Vs. Jason Semps

Ron Williams, Jason Reaves, General D Sanders & Jason Semps looked at each other. And smiled. Then looked towards the ring. Noticed 006.392 kicking the snot out of Vincent Pembridge. And their smiles grew wider. With the ever-increasing cheers of the crowd, they ran down the ramp. Each realising what an opportunity had been presented to them, courtesy of a teenager.

And as they rolled into the ring, Williams was the first to strike at the already-fallen British Degenerate, clobbering him with the trash can lid. Reaves, meanwhile, belted the lower spinal area of Vincent with his steel pipe... and Semps & Sanders kicked away harshly at his shoulders. 006.392 was now focusing on the legs of his most hated enemy, driving the chair into the back of his knees.

The fury of five men were raining down on the Manucian Scorpion. Okay, four men and a boy.

Surely, Pembridge didn't expect this at all. He had no idea that something like this was even remotely possible, but it was happening now, and the crowd had 006.392 to thank for their euphoria. They were finally getting a chance to see Vince trashed, and an absolute mauling was what he was getting.

Slowly, however, greed took over. Reaves suddenly swung his pipe at Big Ron, who blocked the attack with his trash can lid, being utilised as a shield. Semps & Sanders took down 006.392 with a double clothesline, and began kicking at the boy, with each man looking over their shoulders, wanting to see when their target would recover from the mass group attack.

Williams & Reaves, on the other hand, were truly engrossed in their own battle. With every shot of the pipe taken by Jason, Ron would make sure his trash can lid protected him. Finally, after blocking yet another pipe attack, Ron kicked Reaves in the groin and smashed the lid into his face, drawing a surprisingly decent pop for the attack. Now, feeling confident, Mr St George was looking to build on his momentum.

A clothesline attempt never materialized, due to Reaves ducking it and slamming the pipe into the spine of Big Ron. That was followed with a wicked sliding sidekick to the back of Ronnie's head. A solid kick, that saw Williams stagger towards the ropes... and unfortunately enough for him, tumble over the top and out of the ring. Just like that, the count had dropped. The first elimination had been made.

On the other side of the ring, 006.392 was now beginning to fight back, despite the fact that two men were ganging up on him. Semps looked to be the weaker of the two thReat entrants, but quickly enough, Sanders helped his buddy to punch 006.392 down to the canvas. That was before Vincent Pembridge, awakened, snarled and charged at Semps & the General, furiously driving his fists into the faces of both men.

A hook to Sanders saw him stagger away from the mess in the corner of the ring, and right into the path of Reaves, who smashed the steel pipe into the General's face. Down and out, Reaves mounted the thReat superstar, punching away at his chest, to try and take all the steam out of David Sanders.

An uppercut to Jason Semps saw him flying over the top rope and land awkwardly on the ground, now the second person eliminated. Vincent Pembridge grinned, before turning his focus back to 006.392 who'd began crawling away from the resurgent Scorpion. Pembridge shook his head at the YOTN, before picking up the chair the latter had brought into the fight...

*CRACK*
*CRACK*
*CRACK*
*CRACK*
*CRACK*

And used it to exact some revenge. Throwing the chair down, Vincent Pembridge spat at 006.392 before putting the boots to his crown jewels. He wasn't going to let 006.392 slither away unscathed this time. He remembered the middle finger given to him after his battle with the kid at the pay-per-view last week, and now seeked to inflict more punishment upon the YOTN.

Meanwhile, Sanders was now giving Reaves a run for his money, jabbing and hooking him like a true boxer. That ended rather quickly, however, as Reaves smashed his knee into the stomach of General D, before performing a unique spinning back-to-side slam, doing so with relative ease. The fans were appreciative of the move, and Jason smiled. He picked the General up, and just as he headbutted him back down to the canvas... noticed someone familiar running down the ramp.

Chad Stalin.

Stalin, another bona fide fighter, jumped onto the apron and taunted Reaves. But before the former could step foot into the ring, Jason Reaves rushed over to the ropes, and began brawling with his newest nemesis. The two men had crossed paths at PoP, and immediately, the aura of hate festered between them. Now locked in a tie-up at the ropes, close-range jabs were being utilised. This, however, gave a certain someone ample time to recover.

And to rush over, slamming his forearm into the back of Reaves.

And just like that, General David Sanders had eliminated Jason Reaves from the 6-Person Fight. It was down to 3 now. Stalin too crashed down to the ground along with Reaves, but had the pleasure of not falling on his neck awkwardly. Chad calmly picked himself up and walked away, laughing. His intention was to have Reaves booted out of the Fight as quickly as possible, and he'd succeeded.

As for Sanders, he didn't have the pleasure of celebrating much. A spinning backheel kick from Vincent Pembridge caused the General to stumble over the ropes, and suddenly, it was down to two men. The ring-out rules had been abolished, and Scorpion Rules had taken over. The crowd were now solemn, realising that the man who was currently standing tall was Vincent Pembridge.

But 006.392 still remained, and although bloodied, he was on his feet... fists clenched. Vincent glared at him, and the two men began circling each other. It was time, to see who would walk out the first-ever ACW Scorpion Champion. A prestigious accolade was not that was all the line; so was pride.

006.392 tried to make the first move, rushing at Vincent, who coolly sidestepped his adversary, and waited until the kid returned from the ropes to execute an inch-perfect Yakuza Kick. Surprisingly enough, 006.392 didn't go down from the blow. Instead, he staggered away, and towards the turnbuckle. VP snarled, before picking up the steel pipe that Jason Reaves had used.

And as 006.392 turned around...

*CRACK*

What did you expect? For the first time in the Fight, a referee slid into the ring, and began the count;

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006.392 recovered, his legs almost devoid of life, and his face completely covered in blood. But he wasn't going to give up. No chance in hell.

Unless, of course, a steel-pipe was slammed into his ribs, followed with a sickening full-nelson slam that brought searing pain to his neck and his shoulders, the vibration of the attack sending shockwaves through his body. Shockwaves that basically paralyzed him.

006.392 was as done as dinner;

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No.fucking.way.

He got up. 006.392 got up, despite almost being beaten to within an inch of his life.

Vincent Pembridge groaned in frustration, as a fresh wave of pro-006.392 chants began. Measuring him up, Vinny waited until 006.392 turned around... before charging at him, looking for a spear-like finisher. 006.392 sidestepped out of the way, causing Pembridge to crash into the turnbuckle. And as he spun around, holding his right shoulder in agony, 006.392 had a surprise for him.

*CRACK*

Pipe shot. A truly ferocious and sickening one. To the head. Of the Scorpion Of Manchester. Which busted him open.

And rendered him unconscious;

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Much to the dismay of the crowd, Vincent Pembridge recovered, although his knees were beginning to give way. He staggered away from 006.392 who'd tossed the chair away, and now looked to beat Vince into oblivion with his fists. What he didn't know was that The British Degenerate had slumped down to his knees, not because of the pain he was going through...

But because he wanted to grab the dented chair.

And throw it at 006.392, who would catch it. And he did catch it.

But that wasn't the point. Nope. The point was for Vincent Pembridge to rise to his feet, like a gladiator readying his last attack, the final hurrah... and with an almighty growl, let loose with a sidekick.

*CRACK*

Scorpion Sting. Vincent throws chair at victim, victim catches chair, Vincent sidekicks chair into victim's face, victim gets knocked out.

Thus, the count began;

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....

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15.

It was all over.

Vincent Pembridge raised his arms amidst an explosion of jeers and hissing, as he rolled out of the ring and grabbed the Scorpion Title from off the ground. A new era of brutality had engulfed the ACW, as the first Scorpion Champion had been crowned.

Now, not only was Vincent P the Scorpion of Manchester...

.... He was also the Scorpion of ACW.

Winner: Vincent Pembridge

Pain or Pleasure?! I choose the pleasure in giving pain.

ACW came back from intermission as the fans sat quietly in their seats; the ACWtron came to life as a promo came onto the screen, the lights around the ACW set started to dim… An announcer’s voice was heard seconds later by the audience. 

“All the tension that had been building the last couple of weeks; had finally reached it’s boiling point. Two young, up and coming superstars had been brought together by some unknown, all seeing force of nature… Polar opposites of each other, with some but very slim similarities in between.” 

Footage of Kain and Osyrus from last week’s ACW pay per view, Pain or Pleasure are shown on the screen. The audience applauds highlights of the night. 

“One man was an athlete, that every federation wished that they had. A blue chipper above all of the rest; a superstar that had proved time and time again… that maybe he was just a little bit better than everyone else. Maybe this individual was just as talented and precise a competitor… that he proclaimed week after week, month by month. Spewing his type of scriptures to the world, every time he rose a microphone in front of his face. 

Osyrus 15:15- “To be in power, you didn’t need guns or money or numbers… You just needed the will to do what the other pussy wouldn’t” 

”Lines like these are what have made the man exactly what he is today; the most hated, despised and celebrated individual in his industry. But somehow he lacks to gain the respect he so richly deserves? When will his peers just accept the fact that the man is beyond talented; more naturally talented and gifted than other superstars… those superstar individuals that ‘true’ fans and smart marks cheer for every week, instead of our hero for the future. 

When will the fans of this wrestling industry wipe the sleep and daze from their eyes… to finally take notice that the man that they have waited for, for so long… has arrived in their life time. It’s time friends to kneel to the ground in awe, when you hear his voice. Bow your heads every time you see his sculptured face of perfection. Just relish and enjoy the moment, for you are lucky enough to hear him speak… you are the few, that get the opportunity to learn from the best, as you watch him perform his art-form every week. ” 

The video wall changed quickly to still shots of various wrestlers and entertainers that were easily recognized by the crowd. They sounded off loudly each time a popular character’s face appeared on the screen; either popping or clapping their hands together to show their appreciation, before the announcer continued. 

”Many great men have come and gone tragically; Golden Glen Miller, Kenny Rock, Donavan Winters and Ruben Ross to name a few, but none them will ever make an impact like our ‘god’.” With out further hesitation, let me proudly introduce none other than ‘The Personification of Talent’, ‘A Legend in the Making’, and ‘The industry’s best and brightest star’…” 

The announcer paused to take a breath; the jeers cutting him off in mid sentence as he picked up where he trailed off. 

”…’The Beast’ Osyrus!” 

Suddenly the arena was plunged into darkness. And even in darkness, the fan’s hatred for one individual could be felt no matter what the atmosphere. They knew who was coming to the ring after such an egotistical introduction, even if his name was never introduced. It was sort of his calling card during the past few weeks in ACW; putting himself over the show’s product as he continually shoved his accomplishments and self proclaimed ‘greatness’ down each and every person’s throat… that was un lucky enough to hear his brain-washing propaganda. 

Strobe lights began to flicker after a few seconds of nothing happening, before the opening lines of a chorus began to play after a disturbing scream of terror. 

”Rape me..” 

The plucky guitar strings strummed over ACW’s P.A system

”Rape me, my friend.” 

”Rape me…” 

”Rape me, again!” 

Drums and bass guitar kicked up louder as Nirvana’s lead singer, Kurt Cobain screeched over the air waves. 

”I’m not the only one… Yeah!” 

”I’m not the only one… Yeah!” 

”I’m not the only one… Yeah!” 

”I’m not the only one…

HATE ME!” 

Funny how when the word hate echoed from Cobain’s voice; Osyrus arrived on cue with Isis at his side, to a tremendous resounding boo. He walked down the ramp with his familiar cocky swagger as he ignored the fans, jumping onto the apron.. then stepping into the ring while the chorus played in the background. 

No show boating from the former two-time champion, he was all business tonight.. not even posing for the fans as he leaned against the turnbuckles in the far corner of the ring. Isis walked over to the side of the ring calling for the microphone just as “Rape me” started to die down, but Osyrus sprung from the corner.. snatching the microphone from his valet/ friend, if he indeed had friends. 

“There is no way that I could accept what happen just last week. There is no way in hell that a superstar as great as I am, can sleep at night knowing that my match with that sack of shit Kain, came down to a draw. A draw? Are you kidding me ACW? A fucking draw?!?!” 

The hysteria level in Osyrus’ voice started to rise uncontrollable as Isis just looked on in shock. Osyrus paced around the ring; receiving a mixed reaction from the crowd. One half of the audience cheered the fact Osyrus was distraught about the decision of his match in the deciding fall… the other half boo’d just because Osyrus was in the ring, and they did not want to hear him tonight or any night of the week. 

“Don’t you idiots understand that a draw is just as bad as a lost? Especially to Jason Kain. A man that has done nothing but flounder his whole career, wrestling in bingo halls and broke down casinos… wrestling for Washington’s, when an athlete like myself breaks the bank every pay per view I am head lining. 

But why am I preaching to the choir; you understand what I am talking about. Kain is your kind of wrestler… the one that takes stupid risks for nothing; making the save to please the fans… when you all don’t really give a fuck about him do you? The ACW audience could give a fuck about Kain’s feelings, because he is not the one that puts people in the seats…” Osyrus points to himself as the jeers start to fill the arena, “ I do.” 

” ‘The epitome of Ignorance’ is what I call Jason Kain. He continues to play the game with ‘The Personification of Talent’ and he’ll find out like everyone else that already knows… when you fuck with Osyrus, you’ll pay the ultimate price when it’s all set and done. But let me ask you a question Jae; if you were here right in front of my face, I would slap the smile off of that stupid, scratched up face of yours… What do you think is going happen when the feud comes to an end Kain?” Osyrus pauses as he goes back to pacing; walking around the ring, looking out to the crowd. 

”Do you think that you are going to have your hand raised in the air victoriously? Better yet; when it’s all set and done, the preverbal smoke has cleared… do you think that you will even walk away under your own power? You have pissed me off for the last time; and next month, we will finish it for good… and this time I am going to challenge you to the match.” 

Murmurs start to circulate around the venue, as even Isis herself gives Osyrus a look of uncertainty. Moving closer to her man as her lips are moving, but the words are not audible. Osyrus lifts the microphone back up to his face from his side… killing the suspense. 

”Next month; we will have one match and only one match to settle the score. One fall to a finish where pin falls can end your rise to stardom… or maybe I could make you scream out in pain as you tap out. Or maybe I might just beat you into unconsciousness, as the blood slowly spills from the open wounds on your face… as you go down for the ten count. Have you figured it Kain, maybe you are too stupid to put the pieces together… so I’ll spell it out for you. One hell of street fight; pin fall, submissions and count outs are legal. Many ways to lose your lively hood, that is if your up to the challenge. But more of the will be revealed in due time; let’s focus on the present, the here and now. 

Tonight, I am issuing an open challenge to anyone backstage in the locker room that wants to get their 15 minutes of fame, while getting their ass kicked in less than ten.” Isis claps her hands together to cheer on her partner in crime; as she nonchalantly calls for Osyrus to pass her the microphone… but he must not have seen her gestures, finishing off his rant. 

”So come on ACW superstars, and I use that word loosely; step up to the plate and accept my challen…” A cell phone rings cutting Osyrus off. He stops as he searches his pockets and pulls out a small cell phone. 

”Yo,” Osyrus replies as the microphone is still in front of his face.. the crowd can hear the sounds of water splashing around in a container on the other end. Silence made the suspense so thick, you could cut it with a machete. 

”Hey, who the fuck is this.. you called my phone, so answer.” 

”You know who this is ya fucking yank,” the voice replies on the other end as Osyrus’ face turn back to a more serious tone than before. 

”Didn’t I tell you never to call me. You paid me the money already, and I said I would be there in a fucking couple of weeks to bail your ass out okay. So let’s get back to the original question… why the fuck are you on my phone?” 

”Hey listen you bloody yank, I do what I want… and since I paid you in advance…” The voice pauses as he takes a swig of a drink, or at least that’s the noise heard in the background once again as he continues. “… You’re my property until I get what I paid fo…” 

”Hey listen fecker, I’m nobody’s property… you got me.” Osyrus shouts in the phone, his voice echoing loudly as the fans sit in totally dumb-founded from what’s going on in front of their very eyes. “I’ll be there as soon as I take care of business here, then we’ll talk business alright?” 

”Stop fucking around with these twats. I’ll be calling again next week, so stay by the phone.” 

”Fuck you. You stay by the phone motherfucker!” Osyrus hangs up as he throws the microphone to the ground as exits the ring quickly. Isis quickly leaves the ring as the two walk down the ramp arguing, then disappear behind the curtain. 

The plot thickens…