|
|
No Alien Ant Farm this week.
Cue up “Faint” by Linkin Park… and just the way that King of Ages went off the air, Courage comes to life.
The capacity crowd in GM Place where on there feet.
The flash bulbs popped. The fans screamed out in recognition. Signs waved in the crowd.
“Anarchy’s Lullaby!”
“What’s Your Alias?”
“Pulp Champion!”
“Ratings!!!”
The Original Pulp Hero… the ACW World Champion… Alias stood just outside of sight behind the large blue curtains and looked out at the sea of humanity surrounding the ring. Alias soaked it all in and smiled, smiled at what he had helped build, he smiled about the whirl wind of the last week. He straightened the large shining gold strap on his shoulder, and paused for a moment as he looked down at his rippled stomach… tracing the five letters that lay there with a black and blue finger nail… then breathing a sigh of relief he strode out past the curtains and onto the ramp.
This was what he lived for. Nothing but a wall of sound, reaction after reaction all for walking out… how beautiful it was. It had all began ten months ago, a fallen villain, only remembered as an acid tongued punk, coming back to the place he called home… only asking for a clean slate because after that he’d take it from there. He was given the chance and, the proof is in hardware, he took it from there. Alias lifted a tattooed fist to the rafters, with a smile, and the crowd cheered in kind.
The Original Pulp Hero made his way down the steel ramp and slapped the hands of a few fans at ring side before sliding the championship into the ring and finally rolling into the ring after it. All he wore tonight was his usual ring attire, the worn out red leather pants with the flames running up the legs and the heavy black boots.
That and a proud array of scars and bruises scattered across his body… all thanks to the already legendary Iron Man match. Well… the fresh scars and bruises at least. He hopped up onto the second turnbuckle and then threw both arms into the air, receiving an extended pop, until the cheering eventually died down, Alias went over to the ropes in front of the announce table and called for a microphone.
“Ratings!” *pop*
Alias smiled to himself once again, lifting the World title up into the air for another extended pop from the crowd. He continued…
“King of Ages was one HELL of a show, am I
right? *pop*
I have come a long way… a very very long way to get here to this moment… with this title. I want to tell you about the things that led to this… but I don’t want to drag one, on you… cause I cause we still have King of Ages to talk about.” Alias paused once again to look at the belt on his shoulder and smile.
“I started my career in All-Star Championship Wrestling ten whole years ago, in the summer of 1993. Back then I was only 18… I had just dropped out of high school and I had the whole world at my finger tips. I knew I could wrestle, hell it was in my blood, so I came knocking at ACW’s U.S. offices. They where still only touring the north and south east, with those insane shows at Pyramid, so lucky for me they took a chance on a teenage wrestling prodigy.
So there I was… ‘The Tin Angel’ Chris Phoenix… ACW superstar. Man I could fly, I was even part of a house show ACW put together in Tokyo with New Japan Pro… but, heh, I was one cocky little bastard. I’ll admit it now before Dunn comes back and says it for me… Chris Phoenix needed a swift kick in the ass.” Some of the crowd laughed at what Alias had just said… and even some of the hardcore older fans clapped knowingly at the statement.
“Soon I was on top of the world, however… stepping up over all my bullshit. It was just SilverHAWK *pop* and I for the ACW United States Title. Hawk somehow kept my head above water too and kept me in line as well as anyone could have up until that point. I battled two and a half months with that man… tooth and nail. It all came to a head in ACW’s first ladder match too… and it was a night I’d never forget. I finally beat Hawk for the first and last time... I walked out of the Pyramid with the US title… and then, well, I walked out on ACW for the good part of five years.” The crowd came to a hush… and Alias knew that because he wanted to talk about his past in the fed… and his path to the championship, he had to bring up his highest low point. Still there was most definitely something that could pump up the crowd once again… they where now just a hushed fuse waiting to be lit.
“I needed to grow up… I needed to evolve, to survive on my own. I knew that once I could become the man I am today… I could come full circle. So fast forward to just ten months ago… I came back home!
Max Douglas? Scott Perry? Done and gone.
The greatest moment of my career, up until last week, was next. Legends. With the help of a spectacular group of misfits and loners… I saved the company. Beat the bad guy… which all adds up to? An Original Pulp Hero… as the knight in shining armor. Twisted, ain’t it?” Alias smiled to himself more then ever and the crowd cheered him on.
“I won the Television championship… and let me tell you, the conviction I had with that title isn’t even a tenth of what I’ll put behind this, it’s a great belt but let me put this into perspective for everyone from my point of
view. That was 13 straight shows… 3 straight months… this, my World Championship… is 10 long hard fought years… 5 of those years in the dark clawing my way back… and 10 months of blood, sweat and tears…
and in the end I have two more men to thank above all…
Vince Jacobs. *boooooo*
Now now… if it wasn’t for Vince I wouldn’t be the out right, god-damned, toughest fucking bastard I am today. I hate that man more then even I’ll ever know I suspect. I’ll meet him again down the road… I’m sure of that. Whether the are medical bills are fronted by Carter… or Disney…” Alias winked at the ring side camera as it continued to slowly zoom up towards his face. “… that’s to be decided.
Enough about Jacobs though… enough about me… my past isn’t as important as my future, tonight… so who needs to waist anymore air-time on that.
What’s important, ya ask? Congratulations to Jason Kain, of course!” Alias clapped his hands, excitedly and the crowd quickly joined in of course.
“There is no other man with greater conviction… with greater heart… then Jason Kain. He’s the greatest competitor that I’ve yet to run into in ACW. The man was the first person in ACW to make me submit… and he did that twice. Twice! I said to two weeks ago but I’ll say it again. Those first six matches where some of the best matches I’ve ever taken a part in. That seventh match, the Iron Man, is the best! As much as I’ve talked about this baby already tonight though, it wasn’t even the greatest prize to be won last week.
That honor… and about frickin time I should say… went to the newly engaged Jade Greene. Jason couldn’t have picked a more spectacular woman, in her own right.” Alias caught himself and coughed; straightening his title belt… he wasn’t one to get to mushy while in character.
“A ring that expensive couldn’t just be thrown in the trash, aftera-“
Before Alias could say anything further, he was cut short by a certain song.
'Dirty Window' by Metallica.
Enter.
Khristain.
Keller.
"Blah...blah...fuckity
blah."
It was
role reversal as the
next man entered the
arena, as one was
treated as a true God to
the company...the next
was treated as dirt on
most men's shoe. Keller
walked into the centre
of the ramp, with a
small smirk on his face
as he looked at at the
ring...at the ACW World
Champion...at the next
man he was to face.
"You
know, I thought it was
only in the WWE where
you get these big long
opening pieces of
garbage talking, but it
seems that the ACW staff
have given you the
license to fuck over all
the hard work we've been
doing for a while,
because all those new
fans we got?
They
just turned off.
But
now...your King is here,
and here to talk
business. You see Alias,
last week I beat your
boy Vince Jacobs...I
beat that man whom you
say helped aid your
career? Well...if you
wrestle anything like
that geriatric, then
you're not only looking
at the King of
Ages...but the champion
on one my friend."
Alias
smiled as he looked at
Keller, who was still receiving
abuse from the fans at
either side of the ramp.
"Keller...let's
not mess around then,
let's get your title
match underway, right
now!"
Keller
looked down at the
ground and chuckled to
himself.
"You
know what Alias...that
offer may have tempted
me, if I was a little
snotty nosed punk like
yourself, but I know
what you want, an
unaware, unready K2,
because you know, that
he is the only Keller
you'll ever beat."
Alias
responded.
"Well...leave
the match then...let's
just have a fight?"
Alias
dropped his title belt
to the side and took his
t-shirt off...as the
noise level in the arena
got higher and higher
with every delayed
second these two men
weren't beating the
living shit out of each
other...until Keller
responded. He dropped
his microphone and began
to make his way to the
ring.
"You'll
regret this..."
He
shouted as he slid into
the ring...as neither
man took the first shot,
they both stood in the
centre of the ring, nose
to nose as the fans got
a souvenir picture of
the duo.
"Courage"
by Alien Ant Farm.
"Whoa...whoa...whoa...whoa."
Carter.
"Not
tonight...not
tonight."
A chorus
of boo's filled the
arena as Carter made his
way down to the ring.
"Listen
up...do these fans want
some half assed match
tonight? or do they want
to wait till the next
PPV, when the duo can
have an epic of a
match...in a hell in the
cell or in a ladder
match?"
The fans
started to listen
up...as Carter tried to
get the fans on his
side.
"You
two...ACW is depending
on both of you to keep
this civil, because we
need the PPV to work,
you've been touting
"ratings" for
week's Alias, and this
is the wrong way to go
about it, don't you
agree?"
Alias
reluctantly nodded,
without taking his eyes
of Keller.
"But
I don't trust either of
you to keep it
"civil"
therefore, tonight, to
end the show, we will
have the World Title
contract signing, which
will keep your match
iron clad for the PPV in
England..."
Carter
dropped his microphone
as he looked on at the
duo who still stood in
the ring, it would seem
that he had stopped the
chaos this time...but
there was no knowing how
often this lethal
concoction could explode
on ACW TV.
Misplaced An Army, Stuck With A Title; Not The Best Day For Quinton May
|
|
Quinton May was in the boiler-room, expecting to meet up with his Army. But as he looked around, he saw nobody. Scratching his head, The Dictator Of QA -- wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans with white sneakers -- looked down at his blue Nike duffel bag, which was a ton heavier this week. Mainly due to the fact that Quincy Mama was a double champion.
Television & Scorpion Titles; both of them belonged to him now.
At the King Of Ages PPV, Quinton May went toe-to-toe with his enemy, Vincent Pembridge. And definitely surprised quite a lot of people by being able to absorb an
enormous amount of punishment, while dishing out some as well. In the end, The Castaway just barely managed to triumph over his nemesis, ending a feud that had brewing for a very long time. Yet, some people think the war between the two is not quite over. Each of them control factions that are very volatile, and will always seem to want to feud with each other.
In which case, the fantastic battle at the KOA PPV might just be overshadowed by the promise of yet another showdown between the two, depending on how much longer both factions are at loggerheads with each other. At that moment, though, Quinton was just thinking about his gang.
"Where the hell are they?"
Deciding that there was no use standing around, doing nothing, Quinton picked up his bag and threw his over his left shoulder, before leaving the room. This was his home country he was in, and the M15 Survivor was naturally beaming widely. Finally, the ACW had decided to travel and the first stop was Canada. Home of many wrestling legends. Home of Quinton May. Who, of course, hailed from the city of Windsor in the state of Ontario.
Walking down the corner, Quinton hummed to himself, still wondering where his troops were. 006.392 had not tagged along, due to personal disappointment and some injuries following the defeat to Keegan two weeks ago. Understandable. But his main boys, El Janitors, were nowhere in sight. Finally, however, May stopped thinking that he'd arrived at the wrong arena, for an official wearing an ACW sweatshirt was spotted.
The same one, actually, that Quincy had asked a favour from. The day before, May had called Jonathan Densen and requested an idea to be put across to the management. Jonathan assured the Canadian he'd do just that, and as he made eye contact with Quinton, a nervous smile formed on his face.
"Quincy, my man!"
May grinned and walked over, "Hey Jonathan. Quick question; have you seen Howard & Morris?"
The stocky official stopped to think, scratching his head even, before his eyes lit up and he nodded his head.
"Oh yeah, they're getting ready for some sort of in-ring promo. They want it to be directly before their match or something and other. But I did need to talk to you about that... thing, though."
The Castaway half-sighed, happy that members of his group had finally been spotted, and fears of having come to the wrong arena or miscommunication with Janitors were quickly quelled. Then again, the tone of Jonathan's voice had a sense of foreboding that May didn't quite like.
Almost as if what the official had to say would make him pissed.
"Talked to management, and Carter definitely wants you to keep both titles seperate, and alternately defend them. Like, TV Title on this show, Scorpion on the next... so on, so forth. Carter says that unifying the titles is not an option, because he's in charge now and he'd like to see some
semblance of a Hardcore Division in the federation.
Sorry, bubba. Tried my best, too. I'll see you around, man, I gotta take care of some paperwork."
Quinton was left there, shaking his head in anger. He had won the Scorpion Title, but actually wanted no part of it. All he wanted to do was gain one over Vincent and take away his prized possession. Now, he was stuck with an
accolade he did not wish to have. It reminded him of his days in M15... the showdown with Vincent reminded him of his days in M15. And with the two-year anniversary of said organisation having just passed, Quinton was once again having his visions.
Which, to say the very least, weren't good.
Weren't good at all.
Los Locos Moscocos!
The crowd was in an uproar and Forme Carlos was eating up the boos. He was finally going to get rid of them.
TONIGHT. He had a plan, and he was going to be the next big champ. He stood in the middle of the ring watching the crowds response, then smirked as he called for a microphone.
“Tonight is a day of change. Last week we saw Vincent Pembridge lose his Scorpion title to Quinton May. We saw Khristain Keller win the King of Ages tournament. We saw Alias defeat Jason Kain in a grueling iron man match. We saw winners and losers. We saw an ACW retirement. We saw an engagement. It was a night of firsts. A night of lasts. And this is the new beginning.”
He paused and looked around and smirked. The crowd had drawn silent to listen to the speech and for the first time, he had seen respect. He picked the mic back up to his lips and spoke.
“Well, how better to have a new beginning with a new champion? I’ve talked to the men upstairs, and have gotten a signed contract waiting there… for one more person. A tag team title match. So I stand out here with an open challenge for anyone who wants to BE a champion! BE THE NEXT BIG THING!”
Forme smiled and showed himself off as the crowd began booing again. He looked to the entryway and raised the mic again.
“I stated there that I would tag with ANYONE and become the new tag team champs… ANYONE who wants to be a winner back there can come out now, accept the challenge and will be a champ later tonight!”
Suddenly Forme’s face went to sadness and shock when the music started.
SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOY A UN PERTADOR!!!! I’M A LOSER BABY, SO WHY DON’T YOU KILL ME!!!!
El Emenopi.
Had.
Taken.
The.
Challenge.
“Eyyyyyyyyy, mang! What’s up? You wanted a tag team partner, no? Eyyy, mang, you’ve got the best now! We’re going to be the next beeg theeng, no?”
Forme suddenly realized his mistake, but as El Emenopi walked down toward the ring, all Forme could do was stare.
“Who better to ween the belts than two grandioso championes del Mexico!?” El smiled putting his hands out as the crowd cheered and laughed out loud. “We’ll be the best, mang! Los Locos Moscocos for life, eh, esse!?”
He raised four fingers to the air, then patted his own chest as Forme suddenly rolled out of the ring.
“Where are you going, mang?” El suddenly lost his smile for a moment… then it came back. “Oh… I see, mang… preparing for our match later on, no!? I gatchoo, mang! I’ll go prepare as well! We have to be in our best shape for the belts. I see you later… no?” He jumped out of the ring as Forme walked up the ramp and out of the arena, but just as El walked to the entryway a chair came flying out at him.
“Whoa, mang! I know you want to be energized! But don’t throw it at me, mang!”
Same Players, Brand New Playing Field
"Science" by System Of A Down.
And the fans were on their feet. Two weeks removed from their first title-defense, El Janitors were about to come out to the ring and grace the crowd with a little celebratory speech. The biggest challenge had been disposed of, and it was time for another challenge. 12 seconds into the theme song, Howard & Morris appeared from behind the curtains, donning their old-school janitorial outfits.
With their Tag Team Titles, recently polished to make it shine even more, around their waists.
The electric atmosphere put a smile on the faces of the two Janitors, as Morris & Howard walked down the ramp and slapped the hands of several fans along the way, before rolling into the ring. The timekeeper tossed two microphones into the ring, while Morris & Howard unhooked their belts and held them up in the air for all the world to see.
No question about it, a massive pop was the result. Morris & Howard smiled at each other, as they were still rather surprised by how much the crowd loved them. Over the last few months, the eccentric duo had really come into their own.
And if the Tag Team Titles weren't a fair enough reward, nothing else would ever be.
The theme song of El Janitors were finally faded out, and Morris started to dance around in the ring as Howard crouched down to retrieve the microphones. Several of the old ladies in the front row almost fainted upon seeing Janitor H's rump, and the Dirty Old Man
reveled in the hotness of himself, smiling as he ran his right hand over his ass seductively. Morris happened to see this and gulped, feeling the urge to vomit. Violently.
.... If you thought that these two buggers used to be very fucking gay, imagine what 5 straight days of watching animal porn did to these buggers.
"Hello, everybody! It is us, El Janitors!" Howard announced as he stood up and handed Morris his microphone. The crowd went wild, and an appreciative chant started up in honour of the Tag Team Champions.
You knew it was coming.
Come on. Altogether now, kiddies.
"JA - NI - TORS!"
"JA - NI - TORS!"
"JA - NI - TORS!"
"JA - NI - TORS!"
Howard & Morris nodded, liking the increasing crowd reception. Never in their wildest dreams did they imagine ending up as the champions in a popular pro-wrestling promotion. And actually being GOOD. Considering all the crazy things each had done in their lives so far, you could imagine how rockin' an experience this had been for them.
"Now, we were surfing the
Internet yesterday. Wonderful invention, so much lolita porn out there. Then we came across this webbie, where they were posting tons of rumours about a lot of wrestlers. Your Goldbergs &
Hogan's & Kinkades & Rio Nexans & Sebastian Thompsons. So on and so forth. Imagine my surprise when Morris pointed out that we were being reported on as well.
Imagine my IMMENSE surprise when we actually read those reports.
Apparently, some people believe Morris & myself will be licking each other's titties tonight, to give us a ratings spike. There is a myth that hairy nipples equals ratings, but from a man who's licked many a nipple, I can safely assure you all that I like to lick nipples that are NOT hairy and are of the beautiful female variety.
Also, many people assume that Morris will get his penis bitten off by a rat, while I'll consume detergent and end up humping every single member of the production crew. And to end off the night, the two of us will be castrating a horse in this ring.
What is wrong with you people?! We only do that kind of stuff on Tuesdays, not Sundays!"
MEGA POP.
Well, not so much MEGA POP as POP, THIS GUY IS TALKING CRAP BECAUSE HE FORGOT TO TAKE HIS PILLS, SO JUST PLAY ALONG. Yeah, that's about it. They had no idea what Janitor H was talking about, but it sounded half-interesting, and majority of the crowd did find him to be a bit attractive.
So, yeah. They cheered, and scowled at those who just sat there, dumbfounded. Either cheer or die.
"Anyways, we're not angry. No, if these reports -- however dumb -- gives us exposure, then all the better. Plus, I hear some people got fooled and demonstrated their outrage by protesting outside the arena. You Canadians are weird. But hey, our Dictator is a Canadian, so we love ya all. Plus, I see some nice young girls in the crowd.
HI, I AM HOWARD! I'll be able to give you my dirty, perverted pick-up lines towards the end of the show. So, be sure to make a beeline for the loo once you see the old ladies suddenly leaving in a pack. As much as I appreciate you fine oldies, I like the perkiness of the young bitches.
But anyway, before I kill the ratings, I'll hand it over to Morris, who wishes to say something about our wonderful title-defense at King Of Ages. Where we basically 0wned those Kole Brothers!"
Finally, the senseless rambling had ended. And the most electrifying Janitor in the history of cleaning and maintenance had the stage to himself. Howard retreated to one of the four corners of the ring, allowing Janitor M to stand in the middle of said ring, and look out at the crowd. The atmosphere in the arena tripled, as the charismatic and... uhh, 'eloquent, Eastern European raised the mic to his mouth.
Here we go, ladies and gents.
"FINALLY, EL FREAKING JANITORS, HAVE FREAKING COME BACK, TO FREAKING... WAIT, WHERE THE FREAKING HELL ARE WE? FREAKING CANADA? HOLY FREAKING CRAP, CANADA HAS THE BEST FREAKING WHORES! CAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNAAAAAADAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Well, maybe eloquent wasn't the right word.
But charismatic sure was, considering the mega pop.
"AT KING OF FREAKING AGES, HOWARD AND MY FREAKING SELF FREAKING BEAT THOSE FREAKING KOLE BROTHERS. AND WE FREAKING DID SO WITH FREAKING CLASS AND FREAKING DETERMINATION. FREAK. ANY-FREAKING-WAY, WE FREAKING ROCK!"
Someone get a dictionary for Janitor M for his birthday?
Oh, wait. Hold on a second. What was going on? The lights went on, and some sort of orchestra music played over the speakers. Naturally, the crowd were scared, yet excited. Maybe some new team from Canada were about to make their debut. La
Canadians, maybe? Or maybe, just maybe, Bret Hart was looking to make his return to the wrestling world.
Of course, we can all dream, eh?
Finally, the lights came back on, and Morris was so shocked that he fell down to the mat. He quickly picked himself up and stood alongside Howard, who'd stormed out of the corner. Only fair, considering who the intruders that had found themselves in the ring were.
Drake Nefarian, and Liam.
.vindication, the #1 contenders to the Tag Team Titles.
"Well, mates. It looks as if the four of us will be having some fun in the near future, ay? Same players, brand new playing field. Bloody interestin' situation, innit?"
Instant boos. The crowd knew what Liam was talking about, as the Enigmatic Irishman & his partner, The Boxin' Sensation, chuckled to themselves. Having dominated the rivalry that themselves, Janitors, and the Kole Brothers were involved in earlier in the year... Liam & Nefarian surprisingly came out on the losing end, but have been rather silent lately. Now, with the chance to once again wreck havoc, .vindication look to be all
business.
Which doesn't bode well for the champions, it has to be said.
"Listen, you twats. If you thought what went on during our little rivalry earlier was rather ruthless on our parts, you haven't seen anything yet. This time around, Nefarian & myself have learned the lesson about cockiness. We realised that maybe we weren't bloody cocky enough, and that was eventually detrimental to us.
Howard, Morris. Your days are numbered. You two only walked out of Glory the champions because of those Kole boys. They weren't even supposed to be in the bloody equation in the first place, but aye, they did end up making a difference. Now, however, it seems they're looking rather desperate after having disgracefully lost to you lot.
Which leaves only one other option. US.
We'll see you soon. Tarah."
Having finished his spiel, Liam dropped the microphone and coolly exited the ring, Drake Nefarian following close behind. The intensity of the jeers continued to increase, but naturally, the sight of .vindication leaving the scene had several sections of the crowd pleased. Liam's words, however, proved to be very true. Howard & Morris shook their heads in the ring, furious, before they too got rid of their microphones and began to get ready.
There was no other real competition in the company. Sooner or later, El Janitors WOULD have to square off against .vindication, but until then, Liam & Drake were promising to do everything in their power to un-nerve the champions and possibly even test their limits.
First up for El Janitors, however? A title-defense.
With the threat of .vindication in the back of their minds, though, would the heroic duo be able to concentrate?
One way to find out.
El
Janitors
Vs. El Emenopi and Forme
Carlos
Suddenly “Ever And A Day” by AFI suddenly exploded over the PA. El Janitors looked up to the entryway, as Forme Stepped out of the curtain banging his hand on his head wondering how on earth he had gotten himself into this mess. The crowd immediately started booing Forme with a passion.
He looked around then suddenly got angry at the fact that he was going to fight El Janitors one-sided. They were the tag team champs for pete’s sake, and he was to be tagging with the one person in the federation who seemingly couldn’t win a match if it were against himself.
And here he comes.
SOOOOOOOOY A UN PERTADOOOOOOOOOOR, I’M A LOSER BABY, SO WHY DON’T YOU KILL ME!?!?
A janitors jumpsuit-clad El Emenopi burst through the crowd that obviously didn’t care if he was there or not. It took hi all of seven minutes to get to the ring, due to people not even getting out of his way. When he finally hopped the guardrail, he was winded and frowning. The Alpha-Beta Disasterpiece stared into the ring, watching Forme bang his head against a turnbuckle… suddenly El grabbed a microphone.
“That’s the way to go, esse! Get eento the match!”
Forme suddenly stopped banging and just sulked in the corner. This was going to be a massacre. A massacre, Forme was sure, that wouldn’t last very long at all. Janitor Morris looked at El, and smirked. El climbed the apron and tripped over a rope, sending him sprawling into the ring. The crowd exploded into laughter and a beautiful chant…
YOU FUCKED UP
YOU FUCKED UP
YOU FUCKED UP
The bell hadn’t even rung yet.
El walked to his corner and both argued about who should be in the ring for about four more minutes. Morris stood in his corner laughing, as Howard stepped out. The match hadn’t even started and the crowd had a new chant…
BO-RING
BO-RING
BO-RING
Forme finally physically tossed El out of the ring, and the bell rang. Morris rushed in with a hard clothesline, which Forme immediately ducked under and turned it into a drop neckbreaker. Immediately the submissionist attacked the neck with a triangle neck lock. The crowd suddenly started to get interested. Forme improvised grabbing Morris’ arm and locking it in an arm scissor, forcing Morris to struggle even more… but the hold was placed to close to the ropes as Morris finally got his foot on one, and the crowd calmed down some.
Forme let go of the hold and immediately got to his feet, waiting for the 6’7” Morris to get back to his. The crowd watched as Morris immediately got shoved into the turnbuckle with a hard roundhouse kick, then hit with a heavy wheel kick to the side of the head with sent the Janitor slumping into the corner.
The crowd “ooh”-ed at the technical display as Forme bounded with a springboard bulldog, attacking the same neck and shoulder that he had been earlier. He quickly locked on a dragon sleeper, pulling Morris up backwards so that he was basically choking him. Finally Howard had had enough, rushing into the ring and breaking the hold.
Forme turned toward Howard, whose 5’8” frame was a lot easier to deal with as Forme yanked Howard down into Morris with a snap suplex.
El climbed up into his corner, jumping up and down with joy at Forme’s seemingly inevitable victory. But Howard didn’t stay down long enough to warrant the applause, and he and Forme were at it again. Howard slapped Forme across the face, then kicked him square in the balls, making Forme hobble over just as Morris was climbing to his feet.
Morris and Howard immediately took advantage of the situation, dropping Forme with a double DDT as the ref yanked Howard away and shoved him back out of the ring. Morris set in a few kicks, then pulled Forme to his feet. He threw Forme’s right arm over his shoulder, and swung him to the mat with an ugly sambo suplex before stumbling over to the corner and tagging in Howard.
Howard grabbed Forme as he was getting to his feet and sent him to the ropes, catching him with a shoddy looking dropkick, but it did the job. Forme slid across the mat on his back, as Howard followed. He set in a few stomps then slid back bouncing off the ropes and dropping a short elbow. Howard rolled to his feet and dropped a second elbow before dropping down for the cover…
1…
2…
KICKOUT!
Forme shoved Howard off of him, angered by the fact that he was in the ring with THREE janitors, and his career seemed to be going nowhere. Finally he snapped, a hard punch to Howard sent blood shooting out of his mouth, and a twisting jawbreaker had it going profusely.
Morris jumped back into the ring, hitting a hard dropkick, but
Forme rolled through it, popping back to his feet before Morris could, and Forme started in with a hard set of side kicks to Morris’ ribs… but then it happened.
The ref made the tag motion.
Forme was confused. Both Morris and Howard were in the ring. Then horror struck. El Emenopi had climbed into the ring, telling Forme “Good job! We’ll kick their asses…” The blind tag made Forme suddenly realize that this match was far from over… and reality and skill would have to take over.
And El didn’t live for either of those.
The crowd immediately started up with cheers of pity for El, as he rushed in and completely missed a low dropkick to Morris’ seated position. The ref shoved at Forme, but Forme was just glaring sadly at the massacre waiting to happen.
Morris got to his feet, and let El come toward him. El jumped at him with a standing plancha, but Morris caught him in mid-air, dropping him in a hard seated powerbomb, before standing up and calling Howard over. Howard looked insane with the blood pouring down his chin, but instead he pulled El to his feet, slinging him towards the ropes.
Again, El tried a high-risk springboard moonsault, but instead, Howard and Morris caught him again… driving him down with a sick looking double reverse brainbuster. El twitched as Morris picked him up again. El wobbled around, and they set him up for a double suplex…
But they were too close to the ropes, so as they threw him clear over to the outside, Forme pulled the tag off. The crowd roared as a severely pissed off Forme jumped into the ring… but to no avail. Morris and Howard had already turned and caught Forme with a double flapjack.
The ref forced Morris out of the ring, and Howard continued with a kick to the face causing blood to rush out of Forme’s forehead. Revenge was sweet… but El was plotting on the outside as Forme started to his feet. Howard grabbed Forme and slung him to the ropes, and dropped him with a drop toe hold that sent him to the mat fast.
El stood up and walked over to the bellman’s chair, pushing him out of the way and lifting the chair over his head. Morris climbed into the ring, pointing to El, but the ref instead went to Morris trying to get him back in his corner… El lifted the chair high, just as Forme got to his feet. Forme saw it and realized the plan… and for once he trusted the lovable loser.
El jumped to the apron, and Forme grabbed Howard’s arm. El closed his eyes and swung back… and Forme let go… but Howard reversed sending Forme straight for the chair, El swung mightily, with his eyes still closed, and…
BANG!!!
El jumped off the turn buckle cheering for himself, still not seeing what he had done. But then realized it as the cheers from the crowd turned into the classic chant…
YOU FUCKED UP
YOU FUCKED UP
YOU FUCKED UP
El looked into the ring with horror as Howard flipped the stumbling Forme onto his shoulder with a back body drop, but Morris caught him in a tombstone position and the motion cause Forme’s head to lift up just enough for Howard to drop a mean neck breaker/forward slam combo.
The ref slide in just as Howard went for the cover…
1…
2…
3!!!
The crowd cheered as the tag team champions defended their belts and Forme, laid in the ring staring at the lights. He put his hands slowly over his face in embarrassment. El rushed into the ring, and helped Forme to his feet as the Janitors jumped out fo the ring and hugged each other for another victory well done.
Forme looked at the two walking away with the belts, then looked at El who was very intent on trying to get another chance. But Forme instead just shoved El away from him and walked off. El stared for a moment then ran after him, trying to walk off as a team.
The Janitors stopped at the entryway as Forme rushed past them, and El ran in hot pursuit, stopping just to shake Janitor Morris and Howard’s hand. Morris looked confused, and El ran off. Howard and Morris just shrugged at each other, more confused than anything.
Winner:
El Janitors
The Arrival
The atmosphere in the backstage area of ACW was tense as the show was just beginning, the production crew anxious to ‘get this show on the road’.
The darkness from the parking lot poured in through the transparent door, the darkness becoming stronger with a shadow combined with it.
A production crew member walked over to the door, adjusted the tag on his polo shirt which displayed his name, and opened the door by its silver, iron security bar, pulling with strength only to notice there was someone on the other side….
Hillary Small.
He opened the door, allowing Hillary to go through.
“Thanks” were her words of choice, notice….no bloodshed, no evil looks, but a plain and simple ‘Thanks’.
A change of attitude, perhaps?
New Cocky Kids On The Block [1]
.vindication, a little after interrupting The Janitors during there speech, had found there way backstage the arena where Drake and Liam were conversing as they walked down the aisle ways of the arena. Laughing and smiling, they are approached by some new faces backstage.
Chad Boden and Duncan Cole, 'The Collective', the newest team in All-Star Championship Wrestling.
Boden and Cole both walked with a swagger, no one knows where there confidence came from, but it's there. They confidently strolled up to the veteran tag team..
"What's up, fella's?", Boden said without any hesitation at all.
Drake and Liam looked at
each other in an awkward way, trying to understand what exactly was going through the head of these two jaunty newbies who seemed to think they own the place, after being there for only a few days. They shook there heads, absolutely confused. Suddenly Duncan broke out into speech before .vindication could answer..
"Hold on, Chad. You gotta talk like this, dude..'G'day chaps! Let us introduce our bloody selves, as if you don't know us already.." Duncan said obnoxiously..
Before Duncan could finish, Drake and Liam began to part the two by walking forward. This was to total dismay of the two newcomers. Boden and Cole stepped closer together, making it difficult for .vindication to part the two.
'Get out of the bloody way! We've got better things to do.', Liam quickly spit out.
Boden slowly turned to Duncan, cracking a small smile from the side of his mouth. Cole looked over at the smirking Chad Boden. Duncan and Chad then both turned to face .vindication, Drake and Liam clinch there fists, expecting some sort of attack. Boden slowly busted out into a fake, obnoxious laugh. Drake stepped forward and Boden stopped laughing as Cole stepped out infront of Chad.
"Wait a second....I've got it, Duncan!" Chad
exclaimed, with wide eyes. "It's Pip and Estella! You know from that one book...what was it called? Great Exploitation or somethin'."
Duncan nodded in agreeance
with his partner as Drake and Liam got even more pissed. Cole added an arrogant laugh as he adds one more thing..
"Yea, and it looks like Drake here is Pip, Estella's bitch. Which makes you, Liam, Estella. Either way it sucks for both of you. One's a chick and the others someone's bitch. Poor poor English folk."
With that Drake and Liam shoved both members of The Collective to the side of hall. Making a path that they could walk through..
Hello Again…
Even by the most ardent fan’s standards, the King of Ages card staged by All-Star Championship Wrestling seven days ago was a memorable and monumental one in terms of excitement and emotion.
One of the highly-anticipated battles unsurprisingly also turned out to be one of the highlights in an action-packed show. In a winner-takes-all affair, the gutsy Quinton May retained and obtained the Television and Scorpion Fighting crowns respectively with a hard-fought triumph over the vile Vincent Pembridge. For many, the outcome was overdue.
The courageous Canadian ended the Englishman’s incredible unbeaten streak that spanned for more than five months (in singles bouts at least) and apparently quashed the long-standing war between Quinton, plus his comrades, and the bully along with his British Army.
Keegan Carrahar, who narrowly defeated May’s mate 006.392 a week ago, is still struggling with an injured foot that he inadvertently incurred from his half brother John C. Willis. Special K, as he was dubbed by his family, is currently at one of many vending machines inside the arena and taking his frustration out on an innocent official: “For fuck’s sake. Haven’t you Yanks heard of Lucozade? Jesus, I can tell you haven’t. Being fit to you is mumbling some strange words and throwing your three hundred ham sandwiches up after dinner isn’t it?”
Eventually, the loud-mouthed Latin Luminary settled on Sprite but as he was about to open it the can went up in the air and the contents of it – all over his face.
“How man. Do you fucking mind?”
A smug smile suggested that he didn’t at all: “Hello again.”
The Yardstick wiped his mouth prior to greeting his fellow countryman: “Well if it isn’t Karen Pembridge himself. How are you doing babe? I would like to say this is a lovely surprise but then my name isn’t Cilla Black. Speaking of Cilla, I think even that ginger beaver would have pinched, emphasis on pinched mind, a victory away from that twat. What’s his name again? Quinton Fortune?”
Vincent smiled: “Keegan, I love it when you’re angry. I should lose more often shouldn’t I?”
“Well you would if you actually faced anyone relatively decent. I’m astounded, amazed and puzzled that a one hundred percent woodenhead like you could go so long, almost like Ron Jeremy really, without being beaten? I didn’t realise you had enough money to bribe poor buggers for that amount of time. It just goes to show what I know.”
Pembridge put his left hand on the Height of Humanity’s corresponding shoulder: “Look. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Some people have got to be in Special Needs don’t they?”
An obvious reference to the Newcastle native’s knowledge didn’t sit too well with the ex-Asylum employee though he tried to disguise it: “Vincent, one thing I’ve been dying to know is how do you do it? Shit, I could be talking about anything couldn’t I?
“For example if I went into one of your favourite joints then I’d ask you which hand you use. If I was talking about Footer then I’d ask you about how your team cheats so often and manages to get away with it. Anyway, before I confuse you to the point that your eyes end up at twenty to nine, what I want to know is how you could let a cunt like Quinton batter you on such an important Pay-Per-View in front of thousands of people in attendance and about fifteen watching at home?”
The Scorpion smirked again: “It’s an interesting question that Keegan. Well done. I mean you may’ve contracted insomnia in the time it took you to dream of such a fabulous feckin’ question but good for you cunt.
“Now that you’ve asked me a question I think it’s only fair that you answer one of mine. What do you think? Right. Great. Here it is.
“How come you only just pinned a prick that hasn’t started shaving when you’re supposed to be a former Fighting Zone Champion? Oh yeah. And the feeling is mutual. Even though you were Sal’s personal blow job boy, I never really rated you either. In fact, I thought you were feckin’ awful. You stank worse than your chick’s cunt.”
Both men were holding their own in between the insulting exchanges even though the Prince of Palermo had to bite his lip concerning the British Army General’s closing comment.
“I ought to slap you right in the mush for that remark but I’d probably catch something…”
His opposite number was razor-sharp: “Just like you did from your ex?”
It was becoming increasingly more difficult for Keegan to remain cool as he clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. The sensible option was not to allow Vincent to think he had emerged victorious but to continue chatting down another avenue: “You know that paddy? Liam? He’s one of yours isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“So why does he keep on following me to my matches? I mean I walk out of my dressing room and he’s there. I don’t think we’ve had a conversation yet he’s there, practically bumming me, everywhere I go in this fucking promotion. What makes it even weirder is that he’s one of your whores an’all. What the fuck’s that all about?”
For the first time Pembridge passed up the opportunity to explain himself and shrugged his shoulders though it should be noted he still did it with a Cheshire Cat grin etched on his face.
Just as the Geordie Genius was about to say something, probably derogatory, Charles Dunn walked down the corridor and stopped to speak to him: “So it would appear your foot is a lot better now then isn’t it Mister Carrahar? I would go as far to say that there was never anything wrong with it, which means you won’t mind facing Elijah Toomes tonight?”
The Yardstick used his thumb to point to Dunn: “Is that twat always like this with the virgins?”
Karen’s older brother whispered: “No. Usually, he can’t get the fecker up.”
Keegan smirked: “Ah. Impotence eh? It’s never been a problem for me. Oh well. I’d better go and prepare for Elijah Wood. Chow for now.”
On that note, the two Britons went their separate ways and on a slightly less sour ending than last week.
Confrontation pt. 3
The big
massive structure was
heard miles away, the
crashing steps echoed
thru the halls, the
expression on this
man-monster's face was
angry, he wanted DARE's
ass and he would find
him tonight. Elijah
Toomes walked down the
halls and he was fuckin'
pissed off. He wanted to
seek and destroy, and
DARE would not see the
light of day, if this
night went perfect for
Elijah.
Sporting
bandages from the
attacked he received on
the top-ranked Pay Per
View All-star
Championship Wrestling
put on last week,
Elijah's night was
turned into hell as he
met his new enemy. He
met his new rival, he
met his future, the
character that would run
thru his mind every
second of every day.
Elijah wanted to break
him, Elijah wanted to
snap him, Elijah wanted
to fucking kill him.
Elijah got his head
stomped the previous
week, he got smashed
with a chair, and this
week he would find DARE
and rip him apart, so he
thought. The cold,
defying steps were
brave, bold and pure as
the Atlanta Brave
stepped thru the ACW
backstage.
He was
looking for DARE, he was
looking for revenge and
it was in it's purest
form, the red bloodshot
eyes proved that Elijah
had not seen normal
sleep hours in many
days, believed to be
caused by DARE, he was
running thru his mind,
the cheap shot attack he
had preformed was what
Elijah wanted to scream
about.
*SMASH*
Elijah kicked the door
open, it was painted
black and read 'DARE' on
it in big white letters.
The door swung open and
almost hit him in the
ass, Elijah screamed for
his enemy.
'YOU FUCKIN' PUSSY, HIT
ME FROM BEHIND AND RUN,
GET THE FUCK OUT, SHOW
YOURSELF BITCH~!'
The showers somehow
turned on, and Elijah
walked over to check
what was going on. He
turned a corner, in a
fighting stance, he
didn't see anybody,
nobody stood waiting for
him. He turned the
showers off and walked
thru the small room
making sure nobody was
in there. He turned his
eyes onto the black
painted bench, it held
DARE's costume and
attire.
Elijah
ripped thru the bag until
he found what he wanted,
he found DARE's mask.
Elijah smiled for the
first time in days, he
had what he knew DARE
would come after, and
come after is what DARE
did.
*CRACK*
Elijah falls in pain,
cold metal just smashed
straight over his head,
falling straight to the
ground with big impact,
he would not get up for
a bit. DARE ripped the
mask out of his grasp
and dragged him into the
hall, before stomping
once on his head. DARE
was pissed off, yet
pleased all mixed into
one. DARE did it again,
he hit Elijah, and he
had nowhere to run, soon
enough this game would
be pressed, and he knew
it. He needed to think
of a new game plan,
quickly leaving the
scene of the crime.
One, Two... Is This Bloody Thing On?
|
|
Vincent Pembridge was a disgraced man.
But, he was a man who had SOME humility. He knew when he was beaten, and he knew when he was outplayed. As he stood outside the locker-room of The British Army, he shook his head. Liam & Nefarian were back in business, as far as wrecking havoc in the company was concerned. The meetings with Keegan certainly amused the Scorpion Of Manchester, and his young
protégé, Damnson, was certainly doing rather well in training. The British teenagers were also back to their usual tricks, after some reshuffling. WAVE 1, 2, and 3 had all seen changes recently.
That's another story better left untold, however. Even his recent actions in thReat, where his Vagabonds 2 faction was increasing in strength, was a story that should be kept away for another day. On his mind, at the moment, was bitterness at having lost to Quincy. His first singles defeat in the company since his entry in March. Only one man had amassed a better winning streak than he had, and it was -- ironically enough -- Quinton.
However, Pembridge was bitter about something else. And he was going to vent about it. There wasn't going to be any meeting with his gang today. No, that would be saved for another day. On this night, The British Degenerate had a plan. He was going to do what he did best.
"About damn time, cunt."
The sight of an ACW reporter rushing towards him was somewhat welcome by Vincent, although the former tFZ Gang Champion wasn't too appreciative of the fact that the reporter was five minutes late. Darren Dunban, the 48 year old man with the weirdest looking goatee however, mumbled an apology under his breath, before receiving his cue to go ahead with the interview... as an irate Vincent Pembridge looked on.
Waiting.
Waiting, to lash out.
"Hello ACW fans, I'm Darren Dunban. Backstage with the former Scorpion Champion, Vincent Pembridge. Now, Vincent, how did it feel to lose your Scorpion Title to Quinton May, your enemy? It was one heck of a fight between the two of you, and definitely a fitting end to the rivalry."
Vincent blinked. Was the fat bastard next to him actually serious?
"What are you, facking retarded? Of course I'm a little peeved that I lost the Scorpion Title. Feck that, I'm bloody peeved. I lost to my enemy. Nobody likes losing to a bitter enemy, you twat. And, fitting end to the rivalry? Please, the rivalry has not ended. As long as I'm breathing, and he's breathing, the two of us will never be mates.
The two of us will always be enemies, clawing at each other. Our mindsets are different. Our goals are different. Our objectives are highly
contrasting. The one similarity
we have is that due to our difference, we WILL get to cross paths whilst wanting to attain our own goals. Hence, this rivalry will not end. Not now. It's too bloody early.
But I didn't request for some airtime so that I could ramble on about Quinton May. Not at all, you stupid twat. I wish to talk about that little article I read on the ACW website, penned by one Jason Kain. Yes, that idiot who LOST the chance to win the World Title. He found the time to write down some notes about yours truly, the Scorpion of Manchester, in his little column. And I'll be buggered, I found his material to be highly entertaining.
Actually, not. My honest opinion? What in the sodding name of Aunt Margaret's smelly cunt was that feckin' shite?"
Uh oh, this wasn't looking good.
The crowd that were watching weren't really liking Vincent's tone of voice, and the British Degenerate looked to be really worked up. Darren gulped, knowing that his life was possibly in danger, as Pembridge paused to soak in the hateful jeers that
emanated from the arena. As expected, the Arrogant Bastard shrugged it off, as he scratched his nose and thought about how he wished to continue, before grinning to himself.
This wasn't looking good AT ALL.
"Jason Kain is a man who thinks he knows a lot about what's going on in this company. In his little article, he talked about himself & Alias -- or Chris, as he affectionately calls him -- getting together to work a storyline where the focus was about respect and ratings and all that sodding boring shite. Fact is, Mr Evans & Mr Sheffield were doing something they believed was rather innovative. They were mad keen that the product they were developing was top notch
I thought otherwise. Personally, I do believe that Evans and Sheffield -- since the former feels very comfortable using real names here -- were simply realising that their get-together couldn't have matched the true RAW ANIMOSITY that was inherent between Quinton and myself. The two of us, contrary to Jason's belief, were not THROWN together to 'work' a story. Biggest pile of fecking shite I've ever heard. Evans must down four bottles of Mahatma a day, if you know what I mean, Darren."
Dunban blinked, struggling to find the words to express that he really didn't know.
"Brandy, you uneducated twat. Mahatma means brandy."
Darren finally got it, and nodded his head, as he began to smile again.
"Oh, rhyming slang, right?"
Vincent Pembridge stared at the reporter, before suddenly clubbing him with an overhand punch! The crowd went ballistic, furious that the Scorpion Of Manchester was beating up an innocent reporter. With Darren Dunban on the crowd, howling in pain, the Manucian Predator put the boots to him for a while... before retrieving the microphone.
He looked down at Darren, breathing heavily, before turning around and staring right at the camera.
"Jason. Evans, Kain; whatever. You had your little run in the sun. You've got some cunt to be your wife. Congratulations. You know that scar you have that covers the right side of your face and your eye? I'm itching to make sure your body is covered in them. You've got some cheek, calling me a murderer. You've basically made complete bollocks of your career since the day you stepped foot in the ACW. I've been here for a much shorter time, and I've made more impact than you have all year.
Was that a... 'work', Jason?
Screw the storylines, you twat. I want you in the ring tonight. From one... LOSER. Yes, I'll admit. I lost to Quinton. I'm a big enough man to admit it. But Jason, by getting caught up in the hoopla of 'working' one of the best matches of your life and your pathetic engagement or whatever, you've forgotten one thing.
YOU LOST.
AGAIN.
ONCE AGAIN, YOU HAD THE BALL, AND YOU FECKING DROPPED IT. You're a manky piece of shite who still believes this company is all about all the fancy storylines and putting out a product to entertain the masses. Ethan Winters was a brilliant man, he knew what this company was all about. He knew what the main objective was. Money. He knew what it was all about. You, on the other hand, are a deluded cunt who's the biggest loser alive.
Suit up, twannock.
Get ready for an arse-whooping."
With that, the Callous Fighting Machine threw his microphone down onto the concrete and walked away, with medics arriving on the scene to tend to the broken and demolished Darren Dunban. It was complete chaos in the backstage area, with Vincent having physically manhandled an innocent man and verbally abused a man who was certainly entitled to his own opinion, regardless of how far he took it.
But it appeared as if Jason Kain had stepped into Pembridge's world.
Would he like it? We'd find out soon enough.
Best Wo-Man For The Job!
|
|
The rock sparkled on her finger like the large jewel, which it possessed. It was incredible and Jade glowed just as much as her finger. She sat in her locker room, with Jason Kain, closely by her side. They looked at each other in the mirror. Jason was standing behind Jade, his arms were wrapped around her bare waist, and the two of them were actually smiling.
Jason kissed her cheek and looked at her. He had never seen her look more beautiful than she did, standing in front of him. She only wore a pair of workout shorts and a matching halter/sports bra. Her hair was all matted and sticking to her forehead.
She just finished working out and loved every minute of it. It was the first time she actually felt good after pumping some iron, and wanted more.
She was going to get more.
“You know you have a match tonight...right?” Jason looked at her and cocked and eyebrow.
“So?” she smirked at him and blew him a kiss in the mirror.
KOA was finally done and over with, and the next PPV was just over six weeks away. She had to be ready if she wanted to be part of it.
Walking away from Jason, she started to unpack some stuff from her duffle bag. A new green JADE baby-t and matching shorts, a towel. She tossed it all onto the bench sitting behind her and looked across the room at Jason. He was now leaned against the mirror, his arms folded in front of his chest and a coy smile on his face.
“Wanna help me get ‘warmed up’?” she held up the towel and shook it slightly, tantalizing him a bit.
Jade winked and headed to the bathroom. She blew him another kiss as she slowly closed the door behind her.
Kain shook his head slightly and ran in behind her. “What the hell, guess I’m the best man for the job!”
The door closed behind him as Jade was heard giggling.
Elijah
Toomes Vs. Keegan
Earlier
on, Charles Dunn
informed Keegan
Carrahar, who was still
injured even though he
somehow overcame 006.392
at the King of Ages
Pay-Per-View last week,
that he would face
Elijah Toomes, an
imposing individual who
had barely any fat on
him and was still less
than half a stone away
from the 300-pound mark.
That is what you call
muscle my friend.
Both competitors had a
few things in common as
well even if they were
irrelevant when they
climbed into the squared
circle for stiff
competition. For a
start, they were new
recruits to the roster
and that made this match
worthwhile.
Additionally, they both
stood at 6’5 though
Toomes had the
advantage, albeit a
small one of thirteen
pounds, in the weight
department.
They’d learned to
create enemies as well.
Although that’s
relatively easy in this
cutthroat business.
Nevertheless, while the
Newcastle native
exchanged insults with
his compatriot, the
vicious Vincent
Pembridge, Elijah had
incurred the wrath of
DARE, an ex-employee of
PURE and the PWA, who
had taken offence when
Toomes merely picked up
his mask and handed it
to him.
However,
the other debutant
wasn’t well chuffed
about it and after
Elijah humiliated him by
taking him down to the
ground, DARE attained
revenge later on when he
took it one step too far
and knocked the
Georgia-born gargantuan
out in a swift and
sickening sneak attack
backstage. What
had been a simple
gesture on the big
man’s behalf had came
back to haunt him and
who knows what could
stem from that.
So what else are they
united by? Well
that’s your lot
really. And I know
you didn’t give a fuck
anyway so we’ll quit
with the shit and go up
to ringside then shall
we? Okay then.
Be like that.
“Prizefighter’ by
Bush, a British band,
played and the Prince of
Palermo practically
limped out to a chorus
of jeers though there
were a few fans,
scattered around the
facility, which
applauded the arrival of
the now ex-Asylum
affiliate. Once
again, he merely placed
his right hand next to
his ear and pretended
that he could not hear
them, which incensed the
crowd even more and they
reacted by increasing
the noise levels but
this is what the Latin
Luminary wanted.
A
notable absence was Liam
who had accompanied the
Englishman during his
last two appearances and
one of the reasons why
Keegan eventually
quashed 006.392’s
brave resistance at the
historical King of Ages
card.
Carrahar climbed between
the ropes and looked for
adulation that he
didn’t get. Yet,
when “Today’s Tom
Sawyer’ graced the
airwaves the Geordie
Genius switched off with
regards to what the
spectators were shouting
or screaming.
Elijah Toomes was a load
and clearly someone that
had to be taken
seriously. If you
didn’t, he’d
probably and promptly
punish you.
Unlike his opposite
number, the Atlanta
Brave had not been
booed. Instead
he’d been rewarded
with a positive
reception in certain
sections though neither
man warranted an
overwhelming ovation due
to the fact that they
were still learning the
ropes here in All-Star
Championship Wrestling.
Keegan rubbed his nose
and scratched his chin
before the bell tolled.
He was irritated while
Elijah was clearly
focused on the task in
hand, maybe too much, as
he approached the
Englishman only to be
greeted by a boot to the
abdomen and an Irish
Whip to the turnbuckle.
Nevertheless, Special K
was too slow and Toomes
quickly changed defence
into offence with a
stern elbow to the jaw
and a sharp Clothesline
that laid the Latin
Luminary out.
Unsurprisingly, the
former Fighting Zone
franchise wanted a time
out already but nobody
bought that, least of
all Elijah, who then
stamped on Carrahar
several times, which
extracted encouragement
from the ACW faithful.
It was Toomes’ turn to
whip Keegan into the
corner but the Briton
didn’t take a page
from The Brave’s book
and couldn’t avoid
contact from the
onrushing super
heavyweight who utilized
the brunt of his
295-pound frame to
excellent effect by
squashing the Essence of
Extreme’s sternum.
He nearly fell over with
the anguish but before
he could Elijah decided
that the best way for
the Brit to hit the deck
would be with a
scintillating
Spinebuster, served for
free of course, that
shook the ring and
earned support for his
cause as he poured the
pressure on the Prince
of Palermo.
1
2
It wasn’t quite enough
to eliminate The
Yardstick just yet and
Toomes sensibly opted to
continue his onslaught
with four good
old-fashioned knees to
the face and a few
seconds later the
camera, as well as the
crowd, detected a slight
trickle of crimson and
that’s all the Height
of Humanity needed at
this particular point.
1
2
Despite his delicate
state, Keegan made it
clear that it would take
far more than that to
break him but it was
also evident that
Elijah, especially with
his size, was building
momentum and possessed
the tools to do damage
to his rival.
Nonetheless, that was
nipped in the bud as the
Englishman used the
tried and trusted eye
rake, which is enough to
stop any athlete with
their tails up, and he
followed that up with a
devastating DDT…
1
2
In the same instance,
Toomes wasn’t falling
for that. No way.
Notwithstanding, he was
on the receiving end of
a beautiful Bulldog and
again Carrahar went for
the instant cover and
hooking the leg in the
process.
1
2
Both powerhouses had
obtained a close near
fall and there was a
sense that it could take
something sudden or
special to nail that
all-important victory
for either party.
Speaking of which…
A cocky Keegan, grinning
from ear to ear, decided
to shout an obscenity at
some supporters seated
near the announcer’s
table and when he picked
the Atlanta Brave up to
resume his attack,
Elijah stopped Special K
in his tracks by
blocking another Irish
Whip and winding
Carrahar up for a
ferocious Flatliner, a
bone-crunching
Clothesline, that nearly
beheaded the brash Brit
as the observers soaked
it up.
Cue Liam, who wasn’t
alone. No, his
superior and Keegan’s
number one adversary in
All-Star Championship
Wrestling wanted a
closer look at this
contest.
In other words, Vincent
Pembridge was on the
scene and it didn’t
bode well for the former
Fighting Zone Champion
who was already on the
defensive anyway.
Meanwhile, the Georgian
giant set up his
opponent for a version
of the dangerous Shut
The Fuck Up Powerbomb.
But as he was about to
pull the trigger,
Vincent stood up on the
apron enticing Elijah
away from what really
mattered, prevailing
over Carrahar, and
Toomes was intent on
confronting the Boss of
the British Army.
Unfortunately, it was a
trap as it enabled Liam,
who had been forgotten
about, to sneak inside
and maimed him with a
sickening steel chair
shot that gave the
official no other choice
but to give Elijah the
decision by
disqualification.
When the Geordie Genius
arose to his feet, he
was greeted by
Pembridge, who stood
there with his trademark
grin that almost
epitomized evil itself.
What would happen here?
The faithful didn’t
care for Carrahar but
they despised Vincent
and were willing to back
the Asylum exile if he
slapped the taste out of
the Manchester
native’s mouth.
They were even more
hopeful that he could
lure the ex-Scorpion
Fighting Champion into a
false sense of security
when Vincent,
surprisingly and
uncharacteristically,
extended his hand in the
direction of his fellow
employee in both The
Fighting Zone and now
here in ACW.
The Latin Luminary
looked at the capacity
crowd, who he didn’t
identify with as much as
he had in his brief
tenures with TFZ and tA,
but he was still
prepared to listen to
what they thought and
they gave him their
answer loud and clear
with chants of…
“VINCENT SUCKS!”
“VINCENT SUCKS!”
“VINCENT SUCKS!”
“VINCENT SUCKS!”
“VINCENT SUCKS!”
He definitely heard
them.
Hence why he shook
Pembridge’s paw and
apparently sided with
the devil.
Everyone was livid while
Vincent welcomed Keegan
with open arms into the
British Army and stunned
the several thousand
spectators as they
departed to a resounding
reception of jeers and
curses aimed at them and
their cohort Liam.
Carrahar had done the
unthinkable. Maybe
the Asylum marks who had
berated him before his
dismissal were spot on
in their assessment.
He was a
sell-out after all.
Winner:
Elijah
Toomes by
Disqualification
A little matter to discuss
|
|
SVJ continued walking backstage toward his dressing room. But instead of going to his dressing room he decided to make a turn and go in the other direction. Vince walked down the hallway until he came up to a door that had the name “CARTER” on it. Vince smirked before knocking on the door.
Knock... Knock…
“Come in...” A voice from behind the door said
Vince turned the knob of the door and walked in to see Carter sitting behind his desk with Joe Bishop sitting in a chair near the desk. Vince looked at Joe with a sly smirk on his face.
“What’s up lapdog?”
Joe looked at Vince with a mean look on his face. These two men knew each other very well. They had traveled up and down the road together and were very close friends. You can say that Joe, Vince, and Chris were the three amigos. But now it was a different time. Vince could stand Joe or Chris. He blamed them for everything that had befallen him. And he had a right to do so since they almost took away his livelihood.
“Vince we know you are not here to dazzle us with your lively personality, so what do you want?” Joe said
Vince peered at Joe. “I have already retired one legend Joe. Don’t make me retire another one?”
“What can I do for you Mr. Jacobs?” Carter said interrupting Vince and Joe
“Since you are new here you may not know certain things about this federation.”
Carter sat back in his chair and looked at Vince. “Oh really. What are these things that I may not know about Mr. Jacobs.?”
“Well I am sure it well documented about Dante Dokic’s behavior and his past suicide attempts.” Vince replied
“Yes I am aware of this, Vince.”
“Well are you also aware that the boys in the back don’t feel comfortable with him back there either. The guy’s a menace and a dangerous one at that. If he has tried to kill himself before we don’t know what he might do to anyone of us.” Vince said
Joe looked at Vince. “So when did you become such the humanitarian, Vince?”
“Fuck you Joe. Once you become a real wrestler than come see The Ratings Grabber.”
“Vince I will see to this little matter with Mr. Dokic.” Carter said, “Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do.”
Vince nodded at Carter in acknowledgement and turned toward the door. Vince walked toward the door and was about the turn the knob but stopped.
“Hey Joe, once you start thinking for yourself again please let me know. It would be nice to see if you can actually put together a comprehensive thought.” Vince said as he turned the knob to the door. Vince opened the door and walked out.
New Cocky Kids On The Block
[2]
The scene faded to the backstage area once more, this time it was the parking lot of the arena. Chad Boden and Duncan Cole then slowly walked onto the scene, baseball bats in hand, confident, obnoxious smiles on there faces. A few words passed between the two before they approached two vehicles, both Mitsubish Lancer Evos, property of ..vindication. One black, the other silver. The black one belonged to Drake Nefarian, while the silver Lancer belonged to Liam.
"Dude, Chad, those English
guys are gonna so be pissed.." Duncan said aloud with a smile on his face. Chad Boden nodded, agreeing with what his partner had said.
"That's the whole point, Duncan. Gotta show 'em that they can't push us around. Stupid bastards.." Boden replied, with a cocky look on his face.
They moved closer to the cars, Chad standing next to the black Lancer, Duncan standing by the silver one. And with one powerful stroke..
BAM!
Chad had bashed the window shield
of Drake Nefarian's vehicle. Another thud was heard, then the shattering of glass that came with it. Cole had put a gaping hole in the side window of Liam's car. They continued on with the assault, making sure that every window on both cars were shattered to pieces. With glass everywhere, they both dropped the bats and headed towards another area of the arena where they could cause trouble. Suddenly, Chad stopped and turned around, Duncan continued walking until noticing his partner wasn't behind him.
"What the hell are you doing?" Duncan questioned his partner as Chads back was turned to the camera. It was now apparent that Boden had decided to take a piss in the front seat of Drake's car. "Dude, that's great!" Cole edged on Boden, "Yea, I gotta take a leak too.." Duncan said, walking towards Liam's car.
But before Cole could even begin, .vindication came running onto the scene. Boden and Cole ran like chicken shits, laughing and taunting Drake and Liam. The looks on .vindication's faces said it all, they were pissed..
Sinful Superstar
|
|
“Superstar” Vince Jacobs strolled around the backstage area like he owned the place. In his greedy, cold hands was something even colder than his soul…cash. Green bills lined the palm of his hand as he whistled, walked, and counted his cashed pay check.
“Vince” a female voice whispered.
“Yo baby!” He exclaimed but no one was there. He heard the whisper again, this time he shoved the money in his pocket and took a fighting stance. Inside he could feel his chest tighten around his heart as it beat ten times faster than normal.
“Who in God’s name is there!?” Yelled Jacobs as he continued to hold his fighting position.
“Seven, Seven, Seven,” whispered the voice of the woman once more.
A chill moved down his spine as he moved back into the shadows. He could hide there, yes hide, keep his money safe from anyone who would want to rob him. It was probably just some crazy groupie but this was really freaking him out…he needed a drink or something….
The camera fell but the screams of Vince could be heard. Once the camera man had gotten back to his feet he found SVJ on the ground, out cold, with his own money shoved in his mouth. An index card laid next to his bloody body and it read:
“Greed: Keep your filthy money”
A single dollar bill laid on his stomach…what could it mean? Scribbled on the wall was the number eight, what did this mean? What did any of it mean? What was it? EMT’s rushed to his side and quickly began work on SVJ, security began their search for who did this but no one was around, only the scent of a woman and her beast.
The Wonders Of Technology
|
|
Even before the night was one match old it had already been a very eventful evening for Alias, but hell what more could you expect after King of Ages.
Alias was leaning up against a hard cement wall sipping a cup of coffee as his mind slipped back to Keller’s interruption during his opening speech… he just couldn’t trust a man like Keller. He had originally weasled his way into the federation through arguments with SilverHAWK… after that it was one trick after another. What else did he have up his sleeve?
Bah, he would have to wait and see what would become of the contract signing at the end of the night. Then he would set up a game plan for Keller. Alias looked down at the sparkling gold that now hung around his waist. He had never quite realized its size before he had pulled it free from its hook at King of Ages. He was still so proud of that night… everything had come out right for Alias. Not only did his best friend get engaged… but Alias still walked out with the championship. It seemed that, with the exception of Keller, the only that Alias had to worry about was the booze that he knew would be at that bachelor party.
“Well at least there’ll be handfuls of hookers and black jack to keep me busy.”
*ring, ring*
Before he could delve much more into that (damn it, I know. Now you’ll just have to continue to keep yourself busy with the HLA over at A!... and oh yeah, disclaimer)… Alias’s cell phone started ringing.
…
Of course Pulp Heroes carry cell phones. Placing his coffee on a nearby tech equipment box, Alias flipped open the cell phone.
“Yes?” Only to be greeted by a very familiar voice from the past. Sadly for any and all passers by… only Alias could hear it.
“It’s about damn time they gave you a real shot at that championship... congratulations.”
Alias laughed to himself. “Wait a second… your still alive?”
“Ha, funny stuff Chris. Didn’t I warn you back in WWRPG not to get me started? I’d turn you inside out if you wanted to start a game of words.”
So true, so true. “It’s great to hear from you nonetheless man. Thanks on the congrats by the way.”
“What can I say, while sitting nice and comfy on this pile o cash… I sometimes find the strangest things on my TV.”
Alias smiled to himself. “So how did you like King of Ages?”
“How should I know. I only watched that main event… four out of five stars man. That’s only because you need to control your pacing, man. Five more minutes and you would have passed the fuck out.”
“You only say that because the most you can last is half an hour before running straight out of fumes.”
“Ay, I’m built for thirty minutes at the most… and every minute has a 20 share attached to it.”
“What’s with the rating anyway, ya smark? Your Zimmerman all of a sudden.”
“Weird you’d say something like that.”
Nothing like banter between old friends. Alias couldn’t wipe that knowledgeable grin off his face… it was like old times.
“You know… I never got that match.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, you should come to Calgary… it’s the birthplace of the first family of technical wrestling so where better to have a submission match.”
“Submission match? Wonders never cease… that would be the right choice though.
“Damn straight. The fact we never got that match has been nagging at me for-EV-ER.”
This time the man on the other end laughed. “Okay, so besides traveling all the way from sunny Cal-state to a nice frozen place like Canada… what’s my incentive?”
“How about a shot at the ACW World Heavyweight Championship?”
…
The person on the other end thought for a moment… then a moment longer. Finally Alias broke the silence.
“So?”
“So... when?”
Alias flashed the pearly whites this time… this would be quite a match to remember.
“Two weeks.”
“I’ll be there in one so I can check the place out.”
“Right on. *beep beep* Bah, call waiting. I’ll see you in Edmonton.”
*click*
Alias still stood there, ACW’s iron World Champ, but now instead of bantering on with an old friend… he listened intently to an even older friend. Finally he nodded, have heard what the other person had to say.
“I wouldn’t want my first defense against anybody else, Aaron. Later.”
Alias finally hung up the phone and set it on the tech equipment case next to his now cold coffee. The new champion sounded like he was going to be busy the next couple of weeks. He needed to set up a match for tonight, however… and he could only ask one man to do it. Thankfully he now had a little leeway.
“Now where is Carter’s office?”
DARE
Vs. Jade
The sound waves of "One Step Closer" by Linkin Park hit the scene as the most dominate woman- ACW figure walked out from the back through the curtains to an amazing pop from the crowd. They began to cheer and chant “SHOW US THE RING!” over and over again.
Jade smiled and waved as she walked down the ramp with confidence. Taking on DARE - a brand new rookie in ACW – wasn’t her first choice, but if she wanted to get back into the ring before the next PPV, she had to start somewhere. This was just a little ploy by Carter to fill in some well-needed match spots for this ACW event.
Snapcase hit the waves as "Coagulate" blasted into the ears of the ACW audience. DARE wasted no time and ran to the ring sporting his famous wrestling mask. He slid under the bottom ropes and squared off with Jade right away. He wasn’t intimidated by her, just because she was the only female star ACW had to offer, he wanted to fight her, as if she was the same as any other wrestler in the fed.
Dare quickly jumped at Jade, but she ducked a quick clothesline as he delivered a quick arm lock. Dare locked it in from behind Jade, but received a quick snapmare and a swift spinal-tap from her. Jade jumped down and put DARE in a quick head-lock. Dare stood up and pulled Jade up with him and dropped her off of him.
"OOOOH!" the fans screamed as Jade was pretty much dropped on her neck.
Jade got hit with a dragon screw from DARE as he rolled onto her connecting with a knee. Jade pushed him off and kicked him in desperation. She finally climbed to her feet. Jade was then thrown into the turnbuckle as DARE came up behind her and smashed her head into it. Jade spun around DARE's back and hit him with a DDT, which send him into the mat.
The crowd began to cheer for Jade and they began to chant her name over and over again.
Both of the fighters jumped up and circled around the ring before grappling once again. Quickly DARE pulled off a quick arm-drag that sent Jade down to the mat. DARE held her arm and locked in another arm lock, using this maneuver to his advantage. Jade screamed as DARE pulled on her arm more and more each second. DARE finally let go of the lock and tossed Jade out of the ring. He stepped through the ropes and jumped off the apron, following her out. She laid on her back, holding her arm in pain and breathing deep breaths.
Jade was just getting up as DARE leaned over to pull her up by her hair. He then received a very cheap, low-blow below the belt. DARE went straight down, Jade used this to her advantage, and picked him up quickly slamming him down to the hard ground with a nicely completed suplex.
Jade stomped DARE a few times in the ribs, before lifting him up and tossing him in the ring. Following suit, Jade jumped up onto the ring apron and stepped over the top rope. She walked over to DARE and began to kick him some more, before running into the opposite ropes. Coming back, DARE quickly sent Jade to the floor with a HUGE clothesline from nowhere.
*CRACK*
The impact of the fall was heard throughout the arena. Jade's head easily whip lashed and smacked off the stiff mats. She didn’t move. This gave DARE some time to ascend the top rope and go for something risky. He stepped up and posed for a second, then quickly leaped off the ropes.
DARE attempted his finishing move, maybe a little too quickly. The ‘13’, a quick shooting star press landed smoothly on Jade, except for the fact that her knee's were planted straight up in the air, and hit him right in his chest.
DARE jumped back in pain and landed on his back, giving Jade some time to breathe. Jade got up slightly before DARE, and sent him back down with a kick to the throat. Jade changed her mind and picked him up by his hair, and ascended the suplex position. Lifting DARE into the air was quite difficult for her, without the complete strength of her one arm. DARE sent Jade into the air and slammed her neck in a nose-dive brainbuster. Jade was laid out.
Dare taunted her and strutted over to the opposite turnbuckle, slowly climbing up. DARE stood up and tried getting the crowd a little bit into it. The fans began to cheer and hoot and holler. He posed some more for the crowd, to what seemed to be a huge face pop, DARE thought the fans wanted to see more from him, so he continued to do so.
However he didn't know they could all see Elijah Toomes running through the crowd to get to the ring. The referee also did not notice, but the lights faded a bit and a huge SMACK was heard from the ring. The lights came back on and the referee was down, Jade was still down and Elijah's left hand was holding firmly around DARE's neck...Elijah finally got him.
Elijah set his finishing maneuver up, he was about to give DARE the STFU Powerbomb. He easily lifted DARE into the air and sent him crashing down on the hard mats, dropping him flatly on his neck with his body bent in half, knees near his face. He had been waiting 3 weeks to do this, and he loved every single minute of it. He knew he had to embarrass DARE by being pinned by ACW's only female!
Elijah grabbed Jade's arm and threw it over DARE's chest. The referee was just waking up and slowly crawled over to the two wrestlers, making the
count...
1...
2...
3
Jade won. Her music started and slowly she made it to her feet, her arm in the air. The crowd screamed and cheered. Jade climbed out of the ring and began to walk up the ramp, disappearing behind the screen.
Winner:
Jade
Laid Out
Vince Jacobs was seen in his dressing room with an ice pack on the back of his head. He felt his head to see if there was a bump forming.
Vince took the pack off his head and set it on the table.
“I can’t believe that bastard Dante snuck me.”
Vince didn’t have any proof that Dante Inferno attacked him backstage but he knew in his heart that Inferno was the one behind the cheap attack.
“I am going to make that bastard pay for this. He must have found out about my little talk with Carter.”
Vince grabbed the ice pack and placed it on the back of his head again.
“Damn headache and I got a match later tonight against a Amazon.”
Vince sat back on the sofa with the ice pack on his head thinking of a way to get even with Dante Inferno who he has accused of attacking him backstage.
Enlightenment
“Shoot Me Again” by Metallica blasted over the ACW sound system, the fans booing to the extreme, sensing the arrival of Hillary Small. The million-dollar question was…..was it the same Hillary Small that had taunted, attacked and caused a great deal of pain in her time so far in ACW….or was this a new Hillary Small.
She appeared from behind the curtain, walking down to the ring slowly like she was at a funeral. And so it would seem, as she was also dressed in a new black attire with tints of white. She climbed into the ring, The Beast taking the microphone and speaking – a rarity by her standards.
“You know, it’s been a while since I stepped in an ACW ring. The last time I was in this ring I was condemning Forme Carlos, and I identified him as my next victim.” Hillary spoke in her deep tone, often mocked amongst the ACW loyal following. Her heard faced the mat, and stayed there – she was ashamed.
“I then went on to plant some cocaine in his locker room, as, after doing extensive research, I discovered he had a past in that sort of business. Yes, you know all that – but here’s something you didn’t know. The reason I haven’t been in an ACW ring for so long is because……I was suspended. It was humiliating. I ran out of the arena, and I cried. I cried, and I cried…..and I cried. And then I thought……come to think of it – I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently…..I thought about why I had been suspended, and I watched videotapes of every appearance I had ever made in ACW.”
Hillary was able to lower the tone of her voice, as the fans brought a stop to their boos and listened with intent.
“And I realised. I am a f****** bitch.” The crowd popped for Hillary who smiled, her mission completed. “And so….from now on, ‘The Treacherous Troll’ is dead. I’ve changed……and well, life is a lot more positive. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a match to prepare for.”
“Shoot Me Again” by Metallica played on the sound system again as Hillary Small walked backstage with her hand raised in the air, and the fans chanting her name. Now THAT’S something you don’t see everyday. But if Hillarys plan was successful…..it would be.
New Cocky Kids On The Block
[3]
Shortly after totally decimating ..vindication's vehicles, The Collective were seen sitting in an empty locker room. Chad Boden slowly ran his hair through his thick, jet black hair, putting it up into a pony tail. His partner, Duncan Cole sat there, warm coke sitting in his hand.
"You know, you'd think that the ACW would want to treat there stars a little bit better. Warm Coke? Shit, man.." Duncan let out, while he slowly shook his head.
"Oh, I know, man. I bet those Janitors even get cold beverages.
I swear..Janitors, Duncan..Janitors as tag team champions. What's wrong with this place? There are no decent teams here, well, besides me and you.." Chad responded, a little pissed off, "I can't say that I understand one bit. You know, after we finish with these wastes, Vindication, we should go after those janitors and the tag titles.." Chad finished as his partner began to answer.
"Definitely," said Duncan, swallowing a gulp of Coke, "Shit, why not just go out and beat there asses now? We've got nothing else to do.." Duncan finished as Chad began to shake his head.
"Nah, Duncan. You know Drake and Liam are going to be on our asses since we wrecked there fuckin' Lancers." Chad grinned and continued "That was pretty fuckin' funny, huh? I pissed in Drakes
car...Just imagine what we could do to the janitors, man. I mean..look..they're.....Janitors.." Chad let out, not knowing what to say but Duncan smiled and followed it up with his own comments.
"And Chad have you seen how ugly those two Janitors are? Wonder if they get much poon-tang." Chad laughed as Duncan kept going, "Fuckin' a, they're janitors for
Christ sake. Poor guys probably haven't been laid since...well...probably never been laid, so shit.." Duncan smiled..
The camera faded..
'Superstar'
Vince Jacobs Vs. Hillary
Small
The fans rose to their feet as some heavy rock music played, with a large introductory chorus and then finally a climax. A video played showing Hillary Small’s best moments in ACW, including her victory over Ron Williams at Pain or Pleasure. As the words of the song began to be recited by the vocalist they appeared on the ACW-tron in perfect synchronization.
“I won’t go away
Right here I’ll stay
Stand silent in flames
Stand tall ‘till it fades
Shoot me again
I ain’t dead yet
Shoot me Again”
“Shoot me Again” by Metallica, continued to play as out walked Hillary Small, who would be her biggest match to date in the ACW. She would be facing the man that came into ACW and quickly shot up the ranks to main event status, ‘Superstar’ Vince Jacobs.
“All the shots I take
I spit back at you
All the shit you fake
Comes back to haunt you
All the shots
All the shots I take
What difference did I make?
All the shots I take
I spit back at you”
Hillary walked out to the ring with her beautiful black hair flowing down her shoulders. She stroked it gently and stepped into the ring by putting her foot over the top rope and following it with the other leg. Her 6’8, 323lbs physique stood out with that of the miniscule ring announcer.
“I won’t go away, with a bullet in my back
Right Here I’ll stay, with a bullet in my back
Shoot me
Take a shot
I’ll stand on my own, with a bullet in my back
I’m stranded and sold, with a bullet in my back
I bite my tongue
Trying not to shoot back
No compromise
My heart won’t pump the other way”
The fans gave Hillary a mixed reaction as she stood in the ring awaiting her opponent. She did not smile as was stereotypical for someone who received so much hate but instead kept her facial expression frozen on the trademark frown she wore so often. She was focused tonight. Hillary stretched her muscles and flexed her astounding biceps as suddenly…
The lights dimmed down as a huge star formed on the ACW-tron for all to see.
Cypress Hill’s “Ring Superstar” begins to play over the sound system as ‘Superstar’ Vince Jacobs emerges from behind the curtain. Wearing a pair of gold wrestling tights, a pair of sunglasses and a black t-shirt that says ‘There’s nothing SMALL on SVJ” on the front.
“So you wanna be a ring superstar
You’re in charge
Growing up in the world
Don’t trust nobody
Gotta look over your shoulder
Constantly
So you wanna be a ring superstar”
The lights came back on as the crowd rained down a shower of boos on the man who has taken the ACW by storm. He has done battle with ACW’s biggest hero, Alias and he has retired the one man that was a mainstay and a legend in the ACW, Osyrus. Vince stopped at the end of the ramp and posed for the crowd who in turned continued to boo ‘The Ratings Grabber’. He finally walked up the steps and climb between the middle and top ropes.
Vince turned in the middle of the ring and posed for the crowd as pyros went off behind him. Hillary Small looked on at the flamboyant Jacobs and smirked. The bell sounded as SVJ took off his t-shirt and looked across the ring at the Amazon of a woman who towered over Vince.
Vince went to lock up with Small but she threw Vince down to the mat with force. Vince’s ego was not going to let this woman show him up even if she was three inches taller and eighty pounds heavier. Small went to lock up with Vince again but this time Vince showed his quickness and ducked under the grasp of Small and nailed her with a big right hand.
SVJ went on an onslaught with rights and lefts to Small driving her backwards to the corner. Vince grabbed Hillary and tried to whip her into the far corner but she held on. Vince tried once more but she held on again. Small turned SVJ around and threw him into the corner. She began to overpower the smaller man in the corner.
Small whipped SVJ into the far corner. She raced into the corner after him and nailed him with a big clothesline that shook the self-proclaimed superstar. Hillary raised her arms in the air as SVJ slumped to the mat in the corner. Suddenly the crowd got behind Hillary Small. It could be because Vince was one of the most hated men in ACW.
Hillary pulled Vince up by his hair and drove him down to the mat with a big suplex. She got up and dropped a big leg across the throat of SVJ. The fans erupted for Hillary after that move.
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
The chant from the fans bought a sudden smile to the face of Small as she picked up Vince once more and drove him down with vicious DDT!! Small quickly went for the cover on Vince.
ONE…
TWO…
KICKOUT BY VINCE!!
Hillary knew it was going to take more to keep SVJ down. She had to hit him with everything she had. Hillary grabbed Vince by the hair and lifted him up into a very painful bear hug. Hillary was squeezing the life out of Vince. Vince was in trouble while in the grasp of this Amazon. Vince mustered up enough energy to nail Hillary in the face with a right hand but it did not break the hold.
Vince did the next best thing, which was poking Hillary in the eyes with his thumb. That did it. Hillary let go of Vince and he dropped to the mat as she held her eyes trying to get her vision back. Jacobs stood to his feet and ran and dropkicked Hillary in her knee that sent her down to one knee. He quickly raced to the top rope and came off the rope catching Hillary with a big flying bulldog that send Hillary crashing to the mat.
Vince’s ego had been bruised as this woman had been beating him senseless. Vince kicked the down Hillary in the face. SVJ knelt down by Hillary and grabbed her by the hair and started to scream in her face.
“You fuckin’ bitch. You trying to embarrass me in front of my fans.”
Vince dropped her head to the mat as Hillary started to try to make it to her feet. Jacobs laughed at Small trying to get to her feet and spat at her. Vince started to hear it from the crowd for that little display.
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
Vince waited for Small to slowly get up. Jacobs saw that she was on both knees as he raced to the opposite side ropes. He came back toward Hillary and caught her…
STAR GAZER
Vince quickly went for the cover on Hillary…
ONE…
TWO…
TH-- NO!! KICKOUT BY SMALL!!
Vince slammed his hands on the mat because he thought the match was over. He got to his feet and waited in the corner for Hillary to get to her feet. She was slow to get to her feet but she made it. SVJ went for the Superstar Kick when Hillary turned around to face him but she caught his foot. Hillary took Vince’s leg and spun around. Vince did a full 360 and was met by a huge clothesline from Hillary. She was trying to get her bearings as she grabbed Vince from the mat by his hair. Hillary picked up SVJ and held him in the air for what seemed like forever for Vince. She finally drove him down with a high vertical suplex that shook the ring.
The crowd once again got behind Hillary…
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
Small looked out into the crowd and raised her arms as they started to cheer. This crowd would cheer for any opponent’s of Vince Jacobs. The crowd started to get deafening as Dante Inferno suddenly appeared on the stage holding his ACW United States Championship on his left shoulder. Inferno was getting a birds eye view of Vince Jacobs it would seem.
Hillary picked up Vince once more and whipped him into the ropes. Vince bounced off the ropes and was nailed…
HUGE POWERSLAM
Hillary quickly hooked Vince’s leg for the cover…
ONE…
TWO…
THR—NO!! VINCE BARELY GOT A SHOULDER UP!!
Dante looked on clapping for Hillary. Hillary picked up Vince again and she started to signal for the end. It looked like she was going to go for the Dominant Female. Hillary picked up Vince for the power bomb but Vince started to fight Hillary, as he was high in the air. Vince quickly got Hillary off guard and reversed his position in the air. Vince quickly drove Hillary down to the mat…
FALLING STAR
That was unbelievable as Vince got out another predicament. The crowd erupted from the high impact move that SVJ just performed…
HO-LY SHIT!!
HO-LY SHIT!!
HO-LY SHIT!!
HO-LY SHIT!!
HO-LY SHIT!!
Both Small and Jacobs was down on the mat as the crowd tried to get behind Hillary…
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
HIL-LA-RY!!
Vince slowly got to his feet and saw something out the corner of his eye. He saw Dante Inferno. Vince rolled out of the ring and stood at ringside taunting Dante to come to the ring. Vince started to yell at Dante who stood on the stage just staring at SVJ…
“I know it was you that attacked me you son of a bitch. Come down here and face like a man if you have a set.”
At this time Hillary was making it to her feet. SVJ was unaware that Small was up and ready for him to get in the ring. All Vince was worried about was Dante Inferno who did not budge as Vince continued to taunt him. Suddenly Hillary reached over the ropes and grabbed SVJ by the hair and dragged him onto the apron.
SVJ grabbed Hillary by the head and dropped her throat first over the top ropes. Hillary staggered backwards into the ring as Vince quickly got into the ring and waited in the corner. Hillary turned around and was nailed by Vince Jacobs right in the chin…
SUPERSTAR KICK
Vince quickly grabbed Hillary’s far leg and went for the cover not taking his eye off of Inferno who was still standing on the stage…
ONE…
TWO…
THREE…
IT’S OVER!! VINCE JACOBS PICKED UP A HARD FOUGHT VICTORY!!
Vince stood to his feet looking at Inferno who turned and walked back to the backstage area. Vince gritted his teeth as the crowd laid into Vince once more…
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
S – V – J SUCKS!!
Tonight SVJ picked up the win but Hillary Small had a morale victory herself showing the world that she belongs in this sport and can hang with some of the best this business has to offer. SVJ rolled out of the ring and walked up the ramp as Hillary started to get to her feet. The crowd applauded her efforts, which put a smile on Hillary’s face.
Winner:
Vince
Jacobs
N is for Negotiations
Brian Carter sat stoically at his portable desk in his pre-fab office… so was the life of an owner of a wrestling federation. Though he did it stoically… he still sat behind a nicely sized mountain of paperwork.
“I really should splurge and get a secretary for this job… then maybe I could actually watch the show that I pay for.”
Carter shook his head for a moment, scanning his eyes over the various papers, before either signing it, checking it, verifying it, approving it… or just throwing it out. It seemed that his nose had healed since he had been given a nice pop in the face courtesy of SilverHAWK… so let’s hope his pride had healed too, because he was about to be asked for something that was quite big.
Alias walked thru the door without so much as even a knock. Since there first meeting Carter had been slightly intimidated by Alias, and that’s just what Alias wanted because since Winters… Alias wasn’t one to give new authority figures an inch… in his federation at least. Carter didn’t need to worry about the intimidation however… because shock was about to override that.
“Reinstate SilverHAWK to the active roster.”
Carter stared at Alias… yep, shocked.
“No… no. What?!” Carter wasn’t expecting this in the least… and it had already been a long night.
“Put Hawk back onto the roster.”
“No.” Alias wouldn’t step down however… he had his reasons, as a long time friend of the ACW legend.
“I’m asking you as the World Champion.”
“No.”
“Look… Hawk’s even in town. I want SilverHAWK to be the first man I defend the belt against. He’s the only former champ still with the company in some form.”
“N-O. We still have the signing tonight.”
“We can have the match after that... you know that. Hawk even said that you could book him in any match you wanted after tonight, if you feel so inclined.” This comment got Carter wondering… maybe it was worth bringing Hawk back.
…
“I… no.”
Alias frowned at Carter… they where both stubborn personalities… but Alias held the trump card.
“No SilverHAWK… no defenses until the PPV. That’s more then six
weeks with one World title defence.” It was a big gamble… but Alias had to hope that Carter wouldn’t call his bluff. Hell, Alias already had a defense in two weeks anyway.
Carter stared at Alias and furrowed his brow… that was the problem with being the new guy; you didn’t know your money players inside and out. He then looked at the large shining World Championship that Alias wore around his waist.
…
…
“Fuck… fine.”
Alias smiled for a moment. Carter flung his pen to the side with anger. He didn’t want to call Alias’s bluff he had to much paper work to worry about already. So it was set… Hawk would return and the crowd would see…
Alias vs. Silverhawk for the World Championship was the Main Event… it was there first match against each other since 1997.
“Thanks.”
Alias nodded at the still grumbling Carter, he knew when he was given a big enough favor. Before
Alias walked out the door, however, Carter asked one final question.
“What about Keller?”
Alias stopped and turned back around with a knowing grin.
“Keller, I can handle.”
Championship Class Loser?
“HOW DARE HE CANCEL OUT!?” Kain looked furious.
“He said that he couldn’t wrestle another championship class loser tonight… he needed to rest his injuries.” The ring worker winced.
“That’s fucking BULLSHIT!” He turned and punched the wall. “He goes out there, bitching and moaning about my article… something I had said heartfelt, and then proceeds to lambaste me for it… then claims that he can’t back it up cause he has INJURIES!?!?”
He paused and started back toward the main hall backstage. He stopped before walking into it.
“Since when does he stop at injuries? Is he just trying to get to me? I’m NOT a championship class loser. I’m not a fucking loser. I WENT ALL SEVEN, DAMMIT! ALL SEVEN!”
He turned and walked down the hall, opening the door to his dressing room.
“I’M NOT A FUCKING LOSER!!!!”
ACW
Television Title Match
Elijah Arson Vs. Quinton
May[c]
"Fuck Your Enemy" by Superjoint's Ritual started up over the speakers, and the house lights in the arena dimmed. It was time for the Television Title Match, and the challenger? None other than Elijah 'The Constant' Arson. He immediately appeared from behind the curtains and made his way down the ring, simply wearing dark gray jeans and black boots. Having defeated
Khristain Keller at the King Of Ages PPV, Elijah had to then endure a moment of pure
incredulous, as Keller went on to defeat Vince Jacobs.
And become the first-ever King Of Ages in the ACW.
Complete justification for Elijah receiving this title shot, then, as he rolled into the ring and found his way towards one of the four corners of the ring. Half the crowd were cheering, due to the respect Arson had earned while
dueling with Khristain Keller over the past couple weeks. The other half; well, they were mixed. On one hand, they liked the attitude of The Constant, but on the other hand, they found his in-ring work to be highly boring and mundane. Nothing special, they thought. As the house lights came back on, the referee joined Elijah in the ring and began checking him over.
Before.
"Date Rape" by Sublime.
Everybody in the stands banded together and cheered wildly, as Quinton bounced out from behind the curtains 15 seconds into the song. With BOTH his titles in his hands. Nobody knew of the meeting Quincy had earlier in the night, with regards to ditching the Scorpion Title. But it didn't matter; this match was for the Television Title, that he'd won way back in July. Wearing dark blue tights and black boots, The Castaway slowly walked down the ramp, basking in the crowd reception, that had increased in magnitude over the months.
Elijah Arson looked on, totally unimpressed.
Quincy finally climbed into the ring and held both his titles up in the air, inciting a greater round of cheers. His theme song faded out as the referee went over to check him. Considering that the man was involved in a nuclear holocaust of a battle at the King Of Ages PPV, Quinton didn't seem to be brandishing any sort of injuries whatsoever. The referee was satisfied with his checking, and collected both titles from May. This time, the referee only raised the TV Title in the air, before walking over to the ropes and passing them to the timekeeper.
* DING DING DING *
With the match officially underway, both Quinton & Arson stared into each other eyes, as they began to circle the ring. A classic tactic employed by both men, seeking to goad the other one into attacking first while mapping out strategy at the same time. The crowd were definitely excited beyond belief, with the champion and his challenger continuing to run circles around each other. Finally, it appeared both of them couldn't wait to get started any longer, and a tie-up ensued, with Quinton immediately coming out of it with a side headlock.
Elijah grunted as he moved around a bit, and after having managed to grab Quincy by his hair from behind, dragged himself back into the ropes before shoving the Television Champion into the parallel set of ropes. The Constant appeared to be preparing for a suplex of some sort as he quickly charged forwards and awaited for Quinton's return, but he greatly underestimated the Castaway's speed, getting bumped down to the canvas with a shoulder block! A round of cheers erupted and Quincy grinned, before running towards his right and shooting himself into the ropes.
Obviously anticipating Elijah Arson to get up.
That wasn't the case, however. Arson rolled over and confused the Television Champion by remaining on the canvas, forcing May to jump over his opponent's body and let his momentum take him into the opposite set of ropes. Once that was accomplished, Elijah Arson sprung to his feet, just in time to catch Quincy and attempt a hiptoss. Trouble was, the TV & Scorpion Champion managed to somehow land on his feet, and countered with a punishing hiptoss of his own!
Enormous cheers erupted in the arena, as Elijah Arson grimaced and held his spine in agony, slowly getting up and staring a hole through Quinton. May shrugged his shoulders, taunting Elijah to come and get him.
So, Elijah did. The two men got into another tie-up, and again, Quincy took a matter of seconds to come out of that situation with a side headlock slapped on his challenger in the middle of the ring. Yet again, Elijah Arson resorted to reaching back and tugging at Quincy's hair, before he pushed himself backwards into the ropes and sent May hurtling towards the opposite set of ropes with a powerful shove. This time, Arson decided to go with something simple and attempted a clothesline with the left arm, but Quincy ducked it and amazingly intertwined his right arm with Elijah's left arm. Following which, Quinton hoisted himself onto Elijah's shoulders and brought him down, all within a blink of an eye.
CRUCIFIX ROLL-UP PIN! THE CROWD WENT WILD;
ONE...
TWO...
TH...
ALMOST GOT HIM THERE! Elijah Arson managed to roll out of the pin, which had several of the old-school fans in attendance orgasming like wild monkeys. The Constant was seething mad as he got to his feet and charged at Quinton May, who effortlessly took his challenger down with an armbar takedown, before slapping on a rear chinlock with Elijah grounded on the canvas. Thus far, the Big-Hearted Canadian was completely ignoring the fact that he was the company's Scorpion Champion as well, and was focusing on simply out-wrestling Elijah Arson. The Constant grunted and cursed, with Quincy tightening the hold every few seconds. Reaching back, Arson once again found himself a handful of May's hair, before shockingly pulling Quinton's head back... and yanking it down, onto his own shoulder! The audience were rather stunned, that Elijah would allow his own shoulder to possibly get injured just so that he could get out of the move, but they were also stunned because it seemed to work. The hold had been relinquished, and Arson grinned as he lashed out with a reverse elbow, knocking Quinton across the ring.
Finally, it appeared as if the man who beat the King Of Ages --
Khristain Keller -- had turned the tables on the champion.
Uh, wait; false alarm. As Elijah rolled to his feet and charged at the recovering Quinton May, the M15 Survivor took him down with another armbar takedown, before again applying the rear chinlock! Frustration swept through his entire body, as Arson clenched his fist, furious that he'd been duped into the same tactic.
However, there was no way Arson was going to submit to a move so simple as the rear chinlock, and he again used his elbow to bail himself out of jail. Quincy grunted as his face met Elijah's elbow, immediately relinquishing the hold. The pace of the match was still rather moderate, with both men taking their own sweet time to regain their footing. Quincy rested against the ropes and checked to see if his nose was bleeding, prompting Arson to rush over and ram his left knee into the double champion's midsection.
Always the opportunist, Elijah Arson.
The Constant repeated the action several times, before he grabbed hold of Quincy Mama's right arm and forcefully yanked him towards the ropes. The crowd's excitement doubled, noticing that Elijah Arson had swiftly lurched forward and winded his right arm up; he was going to make sure that Quinton May was KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT. That's right, the challenger to the Television Title was looking to score with an immensely powerful clothesline that would hopefully derail the Castaway. There was one tiny problem, however.
Quinton ducked the clothesline and allowed his momentum to take him into the ropes.
Confused and enraged, Elijah Arson turned around, before wishing he really hadn't done that.
CROSS BODY BLOCK! ARSON'S SHOULDERS WERE PINNED TO THE MAT, AND QUINCY GOT THE OUTER LEG HOOKED;
ONE...
TWO...
TH...
AW, SO CLOSE! Elijah Arson powered out of the move and growled, as Quincy rolled out of the ring due to the force employed by The Constant to ensure he wasn't pinned then and there. The second he dropped down to the concrete, however, Quincy pulled himself back onto the apron, only to find Elijah Arson upright and reaching over the top rope for the champion's hair. So, Quinton decided to dance.
Well, not really. He simply lowered his head and drove his right shoulder into Elijah's ribs, forcing the latter to double over in pain, gasping for air. Holding on to the top rope to catch his breath, Arson had no idea of what Quincy's intentions were as he regained his vertical standing outside on the apron. But, within two seconds, The Constant's head had crashed down to the canvas, and he was looking up at the rafters. Why was that the case, you asked?
SUNSET FLIP FROM THE OUTSIDE! REFEREE HIT THE DECK;
ONE...
TWO...
TH...
Another close-call, as Arson used every bit of energy in his body and the fact that Quinton was struggling to keep him in the pin to lean backwards ever so slightly, rolling out of the pinning predicament smoothly. Both men were swiftly back to their feet, and Elijah Arson was the quicker of the two this time, kicking out at May's right knee, stopping the champion in his tracks. Finally having the chance to stamp his authority on the match, The Constant grabbed Quincy Mama's right arm and twisted it, only to find the Television Champion resorting to a sneaky yet effective eye gouge. The crowd roared and the referee was just about to admonish Quinton, but had to join the two competitors on the canvas, with Quincy taking down Arson with a side headlock and keeping the hold on.
Arson almost popped a vein realising the situation he was in, and started clawing away at Quinton, struggling to squirm out of the move. Luckily for him, May decided to bring himself & his opponent up, to get a much better leverage out of the hold. Elijah couldn't quite believe his fortune, and played along for a few seconds after he was upright, before he started squirming around again, and finally got his arms wrapped around Quinton's waist. May blinked, finding himself being raised in the air, and seconds later... he was the victim of a punishing atomic drop! Most in the crowd applauded the move from The Constant, although they thought that Arson probably didn't even know the name of the move and just did whatever felt right to him.
But, Elijah Arson didn't quite care what the audience was thinking about, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead and slowly tracked Quinton, who'd crawled across the ring and to the ropes. As he pulled himself up and rested his body against the ropes, Elijah Arson struck with a vicious backhand chop, instantly making Quincy's chest turn red. Another backhand chop followed, before a series of brutal overhand chops came into play. The TV Champion grimaced with every shot, the pain getting more unbearable by the second. Finally, Arson decided to end the barrage of chops and whipped Quinton into the ropes. As the Big-Hearted Canadian returned, The Constant went for the kill.
OMG I JUST FUCKED YOU UP.
And after that, comes Denouement.
But wait, assuming that OMG I JUST FUCKED YOU UP, a stiff kick to the midsection, didn't connect; would the Denouement still be able to pulled off? Possibly, yeah. But assuming that when Elijah Arson was about to connect, Quinton May caught Arson's right foot and instantly countered with a leg-trip that sent The Constant crashing down to the canvas; would the Denouement still be able to pulled off?
.... Yeah, you already figured it out, innit? What gave it away? :)
Anyways, back to the point. The crowd popped big time with Arson on his back, and Quinton May having saved himself from sure defeat. The champion was not looking to rest on his laurels, however. He'd not only trained for this match with a mindset he knew would frustrate the living daylights out of his opponent. Quincy had scouted Elijah Arson and knew where the one weak point on his body was.
JUMPING KNEE-DROP DOWN ONTO ELIJAH'S RIBS! THE INSTANT COVER;
ONE...
TWO...
TH...
OH, SO CLOSE! Elijah Arson dug down deep and forced his shoulders off the canvas, despite his ribs -- that he'd injured many weeks back while in the midst of a rivalry with
Khristain Keller -- threatening to explode from with from within. Quinton sat on his knees, shaking his head. He'd thought that he had the victory wrapped up, but a glance at the referee told him otherwise. This allowed Elijah to drag himself towards one of the four corners of the ring, as he held his midsection in undeniable agony. However, any illusions of a short breather were quickly dashed when Quinton rolled to his feet and rushed into the corner, driving his knee into the ribs again! Elijah yelped in pain, but the Television Champion simply responded with a flurry of right hands, before tugging on The Constant's right arm and looking to whip him into the diagonal corner's turnbuckle.
But, The Constant managed to reverse it, and pulled off an
Irish whip with tremendous impact, as Quinton crashed into the corner spine-first and rebounded right outta there! The crowd had thought the ring had moved a couple of inches due to the power of the whip, and they were treated to another show of
strength from Elijah Arson, who seized the
opportunity to deliver a back body-drop with Quincy staggering towards him. However, as he turned around and leaned down to grab May up, the latter raised both his legs off the canvas and shot them into Arson's face! Massive round of cheers from the crowd for that move, as Elijah staggered backwards, stunned. Quinton May got back to his feet and instantly found himself executing a belly-to-belly suplex, with Arson charging at him.
Elijah Arson was not about to be outclassed so easily, however, and he struck back immediately. The second his canvas crashed down onto the mat, he too raised both his legs in the air just like Quincy did moments ago, and shot them into the champion's chest, inciting jeers from the several sections of the crowd that didn't quite fancy The Constant! Quinton May shook his head as he forced himself to get right back up, and he immediately had to duck a wild swing of the arm from the recovered Arson. Elijah grunted as he spun around, only for May to kick him stiffly in the midsection! With his challenger doubled over in pain, Quinton May shot himself into the ropes, probably hoping to score with a swinging neckbreaker or something. The crowd never got to see what he intended to do, though, as Elijah Arson jolted back to life and sent the TV/Scorpion Champion flying out of the ring with an overhead armdrag!
The match, which had lasted about six minutes or so already, was just starting to get interesting as far as the fans were concerned. On the outside, Quinton May pulled himself up and leaned his spine against the security barricade, aiming to catch his breath. But with Elijah Arson hungry to change the complexion of the match, there was never going to be any sort of reprieve for the M15 Survivor. Arson slid out of the ring as the referee tried to get both men back in, and The Constant stared at Quinton. He was the man who had what was desired.
The Television Title. Worthy enough for some who beat the King Of Ages 2003, innit?
That's exactly what Arson thought, as he began to fire away at Quinton with punishing right hooks. The referee, who wasn't looking to enforce the ring-out count, still tried his best to get both combatants back into the ring, but his commands fell on deaf ears. Demonstrated perfectly when Elijah ceased the punching and in a flash, sent Quincy Mama crashing into the steel-steps. Finally, the referee decided that he had to do more than bark orders from inside the ring, and slid out, admonishing Elijah Arson & even threatening to disqualify him. The Constant scoffed at that, before realising all the arguing with the referee was giving Quinton the chance to crawl away.
"Can't have that happening," The Constant mumbled to himself.
Pushing the referee aside, Elijah set off, aiming to catch up with Quinton who'd found himself directly in front of the Announce Table, using the ring apron to pull himself up. His shoulder was burning from having taken the brunt of the collision with the steel steps, but a stiff kick to the back of his head stirred up more burning sensations. Elijah Arson grinned as Quinton slipped down to the canvas, before he pulled the champion up by the waistband of his tights, and lifting him over his head in a gorilla press. Majority of the crowd jeered, not quite appreciating the damage inflicted and about to be inflicted on their darling double champion.
The Constant shrugged, and immediately dropped Quinton down, face-first onto the apron.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
Naturally, most of the crowd didn't enjoy that. The referee shared the same sentiment, but by the time he got over there, Arson had picked Quinton May up and rolled him back into the ring, the pace of the match having slowed down just a wee bit, which was perfectly catered to The Constant. Elijah clutched his ribs again as he rolled into the ring, a reminder of what Quincy had done to try and get ahead in this match. Noticing that the Castaway was on his hands and knees, trying desperately to get back up, Elijah decided to repay the favour.
And charged forward, sending a harsh kick into Quincy's ribs!
The TV/Scorpion Champion fell face-first onto the mat, grimacing and hollering out in pain. The brute strength and power of Elijah Arson was effectively
neutralized during the opening minutes of the match, but now, it was The Constant's turn to shine, as he started stomping away at the back of May's head. All his power was
channeled through those kicks, and Elijah realised that the longer this match continued, the more of a disadvantage Quinton would be at. He was involved in an absolute bloodbath at the King Of Ages PPV, and there couldn't be too much left in his tank.
Growing weary of the stomping, Elijah pulled Quinton up and sent him flying into one of the four corners of the ring with a well-measured uppercut. With May stuck leaning against the turnbuckle, Elijah charged ahead and connected with a vicious shoulder barge into the Big-Hearted Canadian's ribs, almost knocking all the wind out of the latter. The Constant finally started to feel at ease, with the match firmly in his control, and began to unload with a flurry of stiff close-range hooks to Quinton's face, hoping to bust him open. The referee didn't like what was going on and ordered Elijah to break it up. Instead, Arson turned around to momentarily snap at the referee, before turning back to Quinton and kicking him in the ribs. Thereafter, he whipped him into the opposite corner, following close behind himself
On this occasion, however, the bruised Quinton May managed to use the velocity of the
Irish whip to his favour. Usually, he would have crashed face-first into the turnbuckle; this time around, he found himself leaping onto the second-rope and magically
somersaulting over Arson's head, who'd been intending to possibly connect with a half-nelson suplex. Stunned by how Quincy Mama managed to pull off that stunt, The Constant found himself further surprised seconds later, upon Quinton's landing.
SCHOOLBOY ROLL-UP! THE REFEREE RUSHED OVER;
ONE...
TWO...
THRE...
ONE SECOND AWAY! ONE SECOND AWAY!
Again, Elijah Arson rolled out of the pinning predicament he'd been sucked into, and just in the nick of time as well. With both men quickly rising back to their feet, Quinton attempted to immediately connect with a clothesline, but Elijah Arson ducked underneath it and spun around immediately. His eyes twinkled as Quinton did the same, but since he was a heartbeat faster, The Constant had a nanosecond or so to realise what he wanted to do.
KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT! KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT! Quincy Mama was on the receiving end of a gargantuan clothesline from Elijah Arson, and he finally made HIS first pin of the match, hooking both legs while at it;
ONE...
TWO...
THREE...
NO! QUINTON KICKED OUT!
At the last possible second, Quinton May somehow managed to kick out, infuriating and bewildering Elijah Arson. He shook his head and looked down, lashing out with several furious punches at the Castaway's face, not entirely pleased that he wasn't already the Television Champion. The crowd were on the edge of their seats, wondering how much longer both men would be able to last. In his mind, Elijah thought the exact same thing, and he finally decided to pull May up. He wanted to finish the champion off as quickly as possible, and he had an idea of how exactly he wanted to do that. It'd require only four steps.
Step 1 - Irish whip into the corner.
Step 2 - Power of which forced Quinton to stumble right out.
Step 3 - Kick to the groin.
Step 4 - Finally, the move that made that Shane Douglas fella famous. Of course, this was a much better version, and had a cooler name to boot.
PUNCTURE! INSTANT PIN;
ONE...
TWO...
THREE!
NO! QUINCY GOT THE SHOULDER UP! UNBELIEVABLE!
Yeah, you read correctly. Somehow, Quinton May got his right shoulder off the canvas just as the referee's hand was coming down the third time, and Elijah Arson pounded his fists against the canvas, as he got up and cornered the referee. Who, naturally, didn't stand down and told Arson that his count was THE law. Shaking his head and growling as he turned around, Arson quickly knocked the recovering Quinton into the corner with a powerful hook, before rushing into the corner and delivering a brutal kick to the Castaway's chest! Howling, May fell down to the canvas, and crawled away from Arson, wanting to stay away as far as from his challenger as possible. Arson simply chuckled and caught up with the champion, directing another one of his stiff kicks into the side of May's ribs. Quinton was now frozen, pain overwhelming his entire body, remaining on his hands and knees.
Which gave The Constant a wonderful idea, as he took a few steps back, before rolling towards the double champion.
MAGISTRAL CRADLE PIN! QUINCY WAS TRAPPED, AND THE REFEREE COUNTED;
ONE...
TWO...
THRE...
Another close shave, and a small section of the crowd who were devout Arson fans were majorly disappointed, as Quinton rolled out of the pin. Elijah's agitation grew, as he jumped to his feet and tugged at Quinton's hair, pulling him up and whipping him into the ropes. The M15 Survivor reversed it, however, and lowered his head as Arson bounced off the ropes and re-approached him. The Constant had the situation well-scouted, unfortunately for Quincy, and struck with a no-nonsense kick to May's face, following up with a standing dropkick! A interesting choice of attack from Elijah Arson, but he was going to do whatever was required to walk out the new Television Champion. Quinton was quick to recover, although he was majorly groggy, and this allowed Elijah to again whip his opponent off the ropes.
And slap on a sleeper hold as Quincy came bouncin' off those ropes!
But wait, May wasn't going to give up like that. He flailed his arms about for a while, as Arson desperately tried to get the hold cinched in tightly. Once Quinton reached back and grabbed Arson's head, however, The Constant knew that he was so very screwed.
FALLING FRONT-FACE NECKBREAKER!
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
A wonderful counter from Quinton May, that laid out the challenger to the Television Title. Within seconds, both men were digging down deep into their reserves and pulling themselves up, Elijah obviously worse for wear. The TV/Scorpion Champion, thinking that he'd finally regained the advantage in this bout, bounced himself off the ropes... with the intentions of scoring with his patented high-leg clothesline. Elijah shook himself out of his stupor rather quickly, though, and lashed out with a clothesline. Quinton was one step ahead of him and ducked, before again intertwining his right arm with Arson's left!
CRUCIFIX ROLL-UP TIME!
WAIT! NO! ELIJAH COUNTERED! SAMOAN DROP TIME!
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"
Exhausted, Elijah Arson turned around and threw his body atop Quinton's, as the referee dropped to his knees;
ONE...
TWO...
THREE...
OHHH - EMMM - GEEE! QUINTON KICKED OUT!
The look on Elijah's face said it all; he was majorly annoyed. By now, Quinton should have been disposed of his Television Title, and left with only the Scorpion Title. Pulling Quincy up, Arson reared back for what he hoped would be a punch great enough to knock May out. As he aimed to connect with May's head, though, the Castaway ducked and smashed his fist into Arson's chest, before slapping on a dragon sleeper... completely out of nowhere!
But if the fans thought that was special, what they were about to see was completely unreal. With Quinton having the dragon sleeper locked in tightly, he decided to improvise by grabbing The Constant's tights and pulling him up, eventually having him up in the air upside down. Seconds later, May draped Elijah onto his right shoulder and adjusted his weight slightly, before finishing off the glorious move with a...
FALL FORWARD SITOUT PILEDRIVER!
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
With the crowd going absolutely wild in appreciation of that move, Quinton rolled atop Arson and hooked the legs;
ONE...
TWO...
THREE!
HOLY CRAP, ARSON KICKED OUT!
Quinton was at wits end; this match was proving to be even tougher to win that his classic with Vincent Pembridge. The atmosphere in the arena only continued to skyrocket, with the match continuing to provide so much drama. May rose to his feet and waited for Arson to get to his knees, before wrapping his hands around the Constant's neck. Arson, dazed, managed to strike out with a hard gut punch that had Quincy Mama reeling. Noticing this, the man who beat Keller at the KOA PPV began to repeatedly strike Quincy with a series of gut punches, before wrapping his arms around the same gut and lifting Quincy into the air. Getting to his feet, Elijah Arson eventually brought Quincy down in an inverted atomic drop.
Great move, but it took a lot out of Elijah as well. Quincy hopped around a bit cupping his crotch, but he was adamant on retaining his TV Title at all costs. Leaning forward, The Castaway wildly swung his arm at Elijah, who ducked and countered with an exquisite atomic drop, putting the one he did earlier in the match to shame! May was down on the mat, done and dusted. Arson was smart, however. He knew that move wouldn't be enough to successfully pin the champion and thus, Arson decided to adopt a high-flying stance.
One move from the top rope, and Quinton would be buried.
Realising the importance of executing the move quickly, Elijah Arson rushed over to one of the corners of the ring and scaled to the top. It wasn't often that he would do something like this, but with the Television Title in sights, he was about to do ANYTHING to get it around his waist. What the man didn't count on was Quincy rolling to his feet and displaying tremendous agility, taking only half a second to join Elijah at the top of the turnbuckle.
Once there, Quinton kicked his opponent. In the groin. Arson was frozen stiff, and Quincy Mama decided to take a big risk.
Front facelock. The hooking of his arm around Arson's right thigh.
Was a superplex going to be delivered?
....
....
Think again.
*CRASH*
FISHERMAN'S SUPLEX FROM THE TOP ROPE! UNBELIEVABLE! UNREAL!
"HOLY SHIT!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
Both men were out cold in the middle of the ring following that hellacious ride from the top, and the referee was stumped. He was tempted to start the standing 10-count, despite the crowd cheering their hearts out. After the match that had already transpired, all they wanted was to see a clean finish.
And suddenly, it appeared that was what they were gonna get, as Quinton rolled over and covered Elijah;
ONE...
TWO...
THREE!
NO! NO! NO! ELIJAH ARSON KICKED OUT!
Somehow, The Constant managed to kick out after that massive fisherman's suplex off the top rope, and Quinton May was beyond belief. He didn't know what else he could do to keep his determined challenger down, but he was going to keep on trying, by the look in his eyes. Pulling Elijah up, Quinton rocked him with a single hook, before shocking his opponent with...
A SMALL PACKAGE! THE REFEREE HIT THE DECK;
ONE...
TWO...
THR...
NOT CLOSE ENOUGH!
Arson rolled out of the move and jumped to his feet, only to find Quinton already up. May kicked him in the gut, and quickly followed up with a
Russian leg-sweep that left the ring
reverberating from the sheer power. Quincy Mama didn't bother about that, however.
He simply rolled over and made the cover;
ONE...
TWO...
TH...
Kick out by Elijah, who was beginning to get some feeling back in his limbs. Quinton was going back to the basics to hopefully keep Arson down, and that fact was well demonstrated as he pulled The Constant to his feet and instantly sent him back down with an old-school backbreaker! With the challenger rooted to the canvas, Quinton leapt over his body and again scaled to the top of the corner turnbuckle with ease.
Before jumping right off, scoring with a knee-drop down onto Elijah's face! The immediate cover;
ONE...
TWO...
THRE...
No! Again, Elijah Arson kicked out, and Quinton May screamed in frustration. He raced to his feet and confronted the referee, who again had to reiterate that his count was the law. Quincy was obsessed with arguing with the referee, allowing The Constant to get his second... no, fourth wind. The M15 Survivor finally ended mouthing off to the referee, and turned around, just as Elijah dragged himself up and stumbled into a corner, resting his back against the turnbuckle.
Hobbling over, Quinton May wiped the sweat out of his eyes and started kicking away at Arson's ribs, hoping to once again cause great discomfort to The Constant. Elijah, however, wouldn't let the kicks go unanswered, and retaliated with an overhand chop. Make that two chops. Make that five straight chops, before Quincy raked the eyes of the challenger, and sent him crashing back into the turnbuckle with an uppercut.
Grabbing Elijah's right arm, the TV Champ dragged The Constant out of the corner and sought to whip him into the opposite turnbuckle, but yet again, Elijah managed to reverse it and sent Quinton crashing face-first into the turnbuckle. He staggered out of the corner, cupping his face, and walked right into an overhead belly-to-belly suplex from Arson, who definitely had new
vigor runnin' through his veins. To his credit, Quincy was back up within a couple of seconds, but the pain remained, and allowed Arson to quickly execute a high-angle belly-to-back suplex! This time, May remained on the canvas, breathing heavily. Thinking his time was possibly up. Arson had other ideas, though. He figured he had to weaken the champion further.
Hence, he grabbed Quincy's legs and held them apart, before dropping his right leg down the middle... onto May's abdomen. Quincy pounded his clenched fist against the mat, the pain becoming too much for him. However, as Arson got back up and again held Quincy's legs apart, dropping the right leg down onto May's abdomen, the TV Champion got his hands up and caught Arson's leg. Realising that Elijah's other leg was just next to him, Quinton May quickly crossed both of his challenger's legs, and swiftly turned over, holding on to The Constant's legs.
The crowd popped. Massively.
Because what they saw in the middle of the ring was Quinton May with the Indian deathlock, completely out of nowhere.
Elijah Arson screamed, before he gave in. He didn't want his legs to get broken.
*TAP*
*TAP*
*TAP*
He tapped out.
The bell rung. The arena exploded with deafening cheers.
And finally, the classic was over.
Quinton let go of Elijah Arson's legs and fell
forwards, coming to rest on his knees. He'd been through an absolute battle; close to twenty minutes of
dueling with The Constant, who seemed as if he would never give up. But somehow, finally, Quincy Mama had triumphed. The referee collected the Television & Scorpion Titles from the timekeeper, and promptly handed them back to the Castaway, who raised his right arm in the air and held his property in his left hand.
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
The crowd were definitely in awe of their hero, but many sections were also giving due credit to Elijah Arson, who'd rolled out of the ring and began the long trek back to the locker-room. For all his efforts, the man had come up empty-handed. But he had nothing to be ashamed about. First, a victory over
Khristain Keller. Then, he was involved in what could be described as a phenomenal match-up with a gritty competitor who'd risen up the ladder frighteningly over the past couple of months.
Elijah Arson had nothing to be ashamed about.
And Quinton May?
He deserved every single bit of credit he was receiving from the crowd. The man not only toppled Vincent Pembridge and claimed the Scorpion Title at King Of Ages, he outfought the Scorpion Of Manchester. On this night, Quinton May rose to the challenge and brought honour to the Television Title.
A damn fitting champion, truly.
Winner:
Quinton
May
Believe,
What You Want To Believe
In
a picture that was the
same as earlier in the
night...Khristain
Keller, Brian Carter and
the ACW World Champion
stood in the ring
together, as a table separated
the two wrestlers,
making Carter the
enforcer for the
night...something which
most fans would highly
doubt he could do with
much effect.
"OK
gentleman," Carter
started, "this
contract that you two
are about to sign is
quite open ended, as the
stipulation has yet to
be set, however, the
date and the location
have been set.
September
19th at. Old Trafford,
Manchester, England.
Manchester
Mayhem.
This
is a PPV which has been
set-up by myself, and
will be the very first
ACW event which will
take place outside of
North America, and the
main event for this PPV.
Alias
Vs. Khristain Keller for
the ACW World
Championship.
So
please...if we could
have the Champion's
signature first
please."
Carter
passed Alias a large
clipboard, showing his
where to sign as Keller
sat across the table
from the World Champion.
Alias made eyes at K2 as
he placed his signature
on the papers, before
tossing it in Keller's
direction and nodding.
Keller looked less than
impressed as he took the
pen from his side of the
table and made his mark,
before setting the
papers in order.
Carter
smiled.
"So
there we have it ladies
and gentlemen, it has
been set for Manchester
Mayhem, and I would just
like to thank both men
for their cordiality at
this tough
situation..."
SMACK~!
The
clipboard snapped in
half as it connected
with the champions face,
as Keller had caught
Alias totally off guard.
Keller got up and pushed
the table over as Carter
then got in his face,
only to be pushed over
by the #1 contender.
Keller grabbed Alias by
the hair and looked at
the mess he had made, as
Alias had been busted
open by the brutal shot
which seen the clipboard
snap in half.
Keller
looked menacingly at
Carter as he pulled
Alias to his feet and
hooked his arm...
"Seek'N'Destroy"
S
I L V E R H A W K
The
former ACW Champion receives
a humungous pop as he
comes bursting down to
the ring, as Carter,
signals him into the
ring to stop Keller.
Keller quickly dropped
Alias to the mat as
SilverHAWK slid into the
ring, as both men
exchanged right hands as
the arena's roof almost
blow off at the first
strike by SilverHAWK.
Keller was backed up
into the corner as
SilverHAWK grabbed him
by the scruff of the
neck and could be seen
shouting and screaming
right in Keller's
face...
WHAM~!
breakDOWN!
...
...
...
Silence.
HAWK
got up from the mat and
looked down at his
crimson masked victim.
As he looked at the
fans, his hand was taken
and raised in the air as
a sign of his first
moral victory back from
ACW.
As
the fans looked on, this
new alliance could rock
the structure of ACW to
it's very core...
"BBBBBBBBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"
As
SilverHAWK and Khristain
Keller raised their
hands in victory...Alias
has been fucked over by
the man whom he deemed
to be a friend...and it
seemed that every single
ACW fan had the exact
same feeling as their
champion.
SilverHAWK...had
flipped the script, and
with it, ACW was now in
a state of complete and
utter Mayhem.
