Thursday, May 6th 2004

Broadcasting LIVE! from Minneapolis, Minnesota at 10/9 p.m. CT

Card subject to change without notice

Previously - At Revival, not only is the federation's current status on the line, but so it gold, and jobs.
Revival is gearing up to be much more important than a regular PPV.

A Meeting of Minds
Author - Chris
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Oh God, what a way to start Courage. If it wasn’t the new Scorpion Fighting champion Phil Atken walking in one direction along a corridor backstage, and Chris Messiah, the… Northern Irish Schoolboy Tiddlywinks champion, walking in the opposite direction. You don’t need a degree in Mathematics to work out where this is going, but it certainly helped me. Apart from having the degree in Mathematics part, which I do not have.

“Hoy there, Philip!” yelled Chris to his approaching sworn enemy.

“Hello, cunt face.”

It is comments like those that make baby Jesus cry.

“Chris, I notice you admiring all my gold. Isn’t it all pretty? The Action! Wrestling championship, and the ACW Scorpion Fighting championship. Where’re your two title belts Chris?”

“I… forgot them.”

“No, Chris. You don’t have any, because you’re a loser.”

“Am not! Those subliminal message tapes I listen to in bed tell me so: ‘You are not a loser, Chris. You’re a winner. No, your father can’t come to the phone, he’s asleep in the armchair again. If he doesn’t get off his lazy ass and help around this house, I’m going to divorce him.’”

“What?”

“Okay, so I make my own tapes. Big deal.”

“Anyway, feck, arse, drink, girls. I have some belt-polishing to do. You haven’t done that in a long, long time, sure you haven’t?”

That was the Final Straw. Snow Patrol’s new album was emulating from somebody’s stereo in a locker-room nearby. On hearing the song “Run,” Chris took its advice and took off, legging it passed Phil and out a fire exit. Phil turned and chased after him, to see where he was going. All he saw was Chris jumping into a rental car and speeding off. That fact that it wasn’t Chris’ rental car brought on the thought that maybe Chris was going to run somebody over, but Phil shrugged it off and went back inside. He had a match to win tonight.

“Arse biscuits.” 

Lights, Cameras, Action!
Author - George
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The crowd was silent, but it didn’t last long. “’Cos I’m T-N-T… I’m Dy-No-Mite!!!!” Rang through the arena, and AC/DC began to pump through the arena. Images of Vacton in the middle of the ring, cut wide open, flashed into the minds of everyone in attendance… And then he appeared at the top of the ramp with Magick Man along side. 

The crowd erupted with cheers. 

Vacton’s forehead held a few bandages on it, but nothing could hold back his smile. Magick Man, on the other hand, (hey that rhymed) didn’t look so happy. As the due walked down to the ring it looked like Magick was having some difficulty. His body was completely erect, bending in no region. Geo helped him climb into the ring, and then Vacton climbed up onto each turnbuckle and held his arms out to the crowd… As usual, the crowd erupted with cheers.

Vacton hopped down from the final turnbuckle and he paced around the ring. Geo grabbed a mic, and his music began to die down.

“Ok, ok… Mammoth… Marshall… Both of you get your asses down here.” Geo’s voice filled the arena, and his request was soon answered. Well, half of it was.

The Mammoth appeared at the top of the ramp with a mic. He was smiling as his eyes gazed over Geo, and then a slight chuckle came out of him when he looked at Magick who stood in the ring staring at Mammoth. The Mammoth took the mic that was in his hand and brought it to his mouth. The crowd immediately started to boo.

“You’ll have to excuse me… It seems Marshall’s come down with a bit of the flu…” The crowd booed. “…And he hasn’t been cleared to be in the arena tonight. I’m sorry, I really am…” The Mammoth looked the crowd over. Geo paced around the ring, and Magick remained motionless. “So, whatever you gotta say you’re gonna have to say it to me, Geo.” The Mammoth shot his eyes at Vacton.

Geo shuck his head and paced back and forth. “The flu? You know I don’t buy that, Action!…” Geo paced around the ring. “Yeah, I’d say League but I’m figuring that you’re Action! And Marshall’s League. But I’ll buy that for a dollar, and it doesn’t really matter ‘cos you’re all I need tonight.”

The Mammoth grinned. “Is that so? Lemme guess Geo, you’re pissed off that you got beat last week and you want a rematch? Well, that’s too bad. Marshall ain’t here tonight.”

“No. No… I don’t want a rematch.” Geo paced back and forth some more. “Mammoth, I want a match… with You. One on one.”

The crowd erupted with cheers. The Mammoth laughed and shuck his head. “Geo… You know damn well that I want nothing more than a match with you so that I can FINISH what I started… So that I can FINISH my promise… So that I can FINISH your career… But Geo, I ain’t suitin’ up against you… No, not tonight. Not here. You see here’s the thing… The type of stuff that I’m going to do to you… Simply can’t be seen on network television. It’d have to be on something that you’d pay to see… Something where the network contracts of blood and violence go out the window… Something like… Oh, hey, something like this Sunday at ACW’s REVIVAL PPV!!” The crowed erupted.

Geo grinned. “Ok… I like that. You and I this Sunday… I can wait that long.”

Mammoth nodded. “The longer the better as far as your concerned… ‘Cos Geo… You ain’t gonna walk out of Revival with a few stitches… Hell, you ain’t even gonna walk out period if you get me. But you know what though… Geo, I can’t trust you. Hell, I can’t trust Magick Man. You saw him try to get involved in that match last week. So I want Marshall along at ringside… Just to make sure things are fair.”

Geo paced around the ring a little, and then he and Magick discussed off the microphone. “Ok… You can get Marshall out there… As long as I get Phoenix Rose out there.” The crowd erupted at Rose’s name.

The Mammoth thought for a moment. “Ok, that’s alright… Get Rose out there to support you… But in that case, I want Marshall… To be the special guest referee.”

Geo raised his eyebrows. Magick cocked his head to the side and talked to Geo. Magick shuck his head a few times, and then told Geo something. “Ok… Ok… You can have Marshall as the referee… But he’s gonna be YOUR referee… Meaning he’ll make the pin count when you pin me… And MY referee, Phoenix Rose, will make the count when I pin you. You hear that? We’re gonna have ourselves a Dueling Referee Match!!”

The crowd erupted once more. The Mammoth nodded his head. “Alright… That sounds good… But you know what, let’s take this to another level… Let’s make this a NO DISQUALIFICATION, FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE, AKA A HARDCORE MATCH!!“

Geo paced around the ring. He grinned. The crowd was hysterical. “Do you really think that’s a good idea, Action!?” Thoughts of tHw flashes through Geo’s head.

The Mammoth shuck his head. “Yeah, I’m sure about it Geo. I’m damn sure.”

Geo nodded and paced back and forth. “Ok… But you know what… Let’s make this match even better… Let’s make this be a Five Second Pin Fall Match.” The crowd cheered. “And you know what? A match like this comes but once in a lifetime. This match can’t just be called a Hardcore Five Second Pin Fall Match… This match has to be called… An Action! Match!” Geo grinned, and the crowd cheered in his favor.

The Mammoth paced up and down the top of the steel ramp as an “Action! League!” chant started up.

“Alright… Alright… An Action! Match it is then…”

Geo smiled. “Alright, Mammoth… It’s been a definite pleasure doing business with you. My Main Man Magick Man’ll write the stipulations up for the Action! Match, and we’ll have ‘em to you by the end of the night… Heh, you get it?” The crowd said the rest with him. “You got it.”

The Mammoth shuck his head at the top of the ramp… He snickered and turned around as “TNT” once again filled the arena, overpowering the cheers coming from the crowd. Suddenly, the crowd came alive. Marshall ran through the crowd, slid into the ring, and WHAM!!! 

Slammed a chair over Geo’s head. The Mammoth spun around and ran down to the ring. Magick Man headed out as quickly as possible, getting away from them. Mammoth hopped into the ring, and Magick broke his stiffness in order to run up the ramp.

The Mammoth and Marshall began to lay into Vacton. The moves they were doing weren’t even close to textbook… They were all street. They stomped and laid into Geo. He reached for the ropes, but it was becoming hopeless. Until…

PHOENIX ROSE ran out to the ring with a chair. The crowd exploded. Rose slid into the ring, crashed the chair over Marshall’s head, turned his attention onto the Mammoth and slapped the chair across his chest. Mammoth took it like it was nothing, and grabbed Rose by the neck. He attempted to choke him and lift him up, but Rose fought back with kicks to the Mammoth’s chest and stomach. 

Geo was now fighting to get back to his feet. He finally stood; at about the same time as Marshall, and BAM like lightning he hit Marshall with his super kick. The huge Mammoth had by now let go of Rose, and he turned around to find Geo ready to go. Geo hit him with a hard right, proving that he was not afraid to have a fistfight with him. The two went back and forth, Geo ducking most of the Mammoth’s fists, and eventually working him to the ropes where he took it Rocky Miavia style giving him chop after chop after chop until finally he clothes lined him out of the ring. 

There was the slight problem of Marshall now, who went for a clothesline of his own… but found that a back body drop from Geo would suit him a bit better. Rose walked across the ring to Geo, and the two stood by the side of the ring watching the Mammoth and Marshall collect themselves.

The two paced around the ring, protecting it. Marshall and the Mammoth eventually gave up on getting back into the ring, and the two retreated up the ramp. Geo’s music again hit the speakers, signaling a time for celebration. But one look at Geo Vacton’s face told you that this Sunday… It wasn’t going to be pretty. Both men were ready for each other… And with stipulations like these… Who knows what’s going to happen?

G'Luck Sunday
Author - Oz
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The door swung open quietly. The men standing beside it awaiting the arrival of the ACW roster so they could be checked in and briefed about the happenings of tonight’s event didn’t even notice his presence. The steel door closed tightly as Simian Kade solemnly trekked through the doorway and past the crew. Most knew his situation, they didn’t bother, nor did they want to disturb him. 

“Something wrong Kade?” One of the men asked as Simian passed him. 

Kade said nothing. 

He didn’t notice the man, he just continued walking through the docking area of the building. 

The man shrugged as Simian passed. His wet runners squeaked on the concrete floor as he walked. His white colored shorts, sporting a red pin stripe flapped on and off his legs. A plain black ACW shirt wrapped itself around his muscular chest, it seemed to compliment his shaggy hair rather well. A five o’clock shadow portrayed the lack of sleep he had been getting, as well as the fact he wasn’t too worried about how he looked at this point. 

As he rounded the corner heading towards a few of the locker rooms he finally looked up from his blank stare. He was startled to find a man standing in front of him. It caught him off guard as the man tried to console Simian about his current situation.

“Simian, look, I know what you’ve been going through, and I’m sorry,” Adam Kent started, “I’ve felt the way you feel right now, and I know your in a bad state. So we’ve decided to give you some time off.”

“Adam, get out of the way,” Simian demanded as he again began to look at the ground. Kent nodded and stepped aside as Kade continued down the path

“Faggot,” Kade muttered under his breath. As Kent was walking away he caught wind of the comments by Kade. Again, Kade’s ability to control his emotions, or lack there of, had cost him. 

“On second thought, I’m going to take the liberty of booking you in a match for the Pay-Per-View against Rome the Vile,” Kent smirked, “Good luck.” 

Kade shut his eyes for a moment. He didn’t think this could get much worse. He reopened his eyes and turned around to see Kent was gone. Around the corner to tend to some other business probably. 

Kade just shook his head in disbelief. 

Scorpion Title Match
Jesse Ramey Vs. Phil Atken
Author - Colin
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Some more ring action was about to be a-happening. How do I know this you may ask yourself. It’s quite simple 'Going Down In Flames' by 3 Doors Down began to play and out from the back came “Mr Action!” Jesse Ramey dressed for action. See, simple.

Jesse made his way to the ring, looking as intense as ever and hoping to score his first clean win in ACW. Of course there was one flaw in his plan, he had no idea who he was facing. Surely that’s gotta be a problem for Ramey. Normally it would help to scout your opponents but alas it was not to be for Bad Attitude. As he entered the ring he began to pace up and down the ring waiting for some sign of his opponent. His music played for a good minute before it was cut off and replaced with…

“Fountains of Wayne” – Too Cool For School. The reaction?

WHAT THE IN THE EVER LOVING HELL? Jesse stared up at the ramp in total disbelief as to him and the crowd this theme belonged to no one familiar. Then after a good twenty seconds the song cut off and was replaced by Eye of the Tiger by Survivor, along with the music was Phil Atken’s entrance video. Cue to assload of jeering for ACW’s newest Scorpion Fighting Champion. The previous week Phil had made quite the name for himself when it turned out that he ambushed Quinton May and had arranged a backstage attack on Chris Messiah. If you didn’t think Phil Atken had microphone is hand. Around his waist he was carrying his precious Action! Championship and around his shoulder was ACW’s very own Scorpion Fighting Title. For some odd reason he was also carrying a bucket.

“Atken Sucks!”
“Atken Sucks!”
“Atken Sucks!”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, hicks and shemales and pedophiles who are only here for the young boys and girls… that would be the majority of the adults in the audience I presume, it is I, the best looking fighter in ACW’s history, the real main event attraction, Phil Atken.. YOUR Entertainment Saviour and YOUR Scorpion Fighting Champion! You see last week I again proved why I’m the smartest man in wrestling when I not only got ACW’s quickest victory but got it over Cunt Face. Oh that was a glorious day!

“You’re a fag”
“You’re a fag”
“You’re a fag”

“Now now, that isn’t very nice is it, what would your cows think if they heard you use such language, I guarantee you’d get no loving tonight. Speaking of barn yard shaggers, Jesse Ramey, you came here tonight prepared to wrestle against an opponent to be named. Sadly tonight you wouldn’t be wrasslin’, oh no my dear boy, you’ll be fighting. Fighting against me in fact. Fighting against me for the Scorpion Fighting Championship in fact. And since you ask for a fight (again, what the hell?) you’re going to get one! So with that said, let us begin preparations for rumbling!”

As soon as Phil made said announcement we finally found out the mystery on the bucket. Contained inside was head gear and a mouth guard (boxing gloves not needed) which Phil quickly put on before making his way to the ring. Jesse Ramey was still in shock and had no idea what was going on, half of the people in the crowd had no idea what was going on to be honest. Phil of course detected this confusion and nailed Jesse with a running jump kick right to the face and Jesse went down to the ground. Phil scoop up Jesse and was heading towards the ropes, looking to dump him out and get this watch over quickly but Jesse managed to flip behind Phil and before Phil could get on the defensive he was experiencing a German suplex. 

“Atken Sucks!”
“Atken Sucks!”
“Atken Sucks!”

Jesse picked Phil up, whipped him into the ropes and…. WHAM! A jumping heel kick quickly sent Phil back down to the mat but as Jesse went to pick him up again he received one of few moves Atken is famous for, that’s right Ramey had just experienced the “NUTSHOT~!”. Although still slightly dazed Phil jumped to his feet and nailed Ramey with a running neck snap. Before staggering against the ropes to try and catch his breath. As he did Jesse slowly got back up and headed towards Phil, he was looking to nail Phil with some sort of clothesline looking to knock Phil over the top but Phil ducked and very quickly nailed a dropkick with Jesse’s back which sent him over the top rope but safely landing on the apron. Much, oddly, to the delight of the fans. Of course it was quickly followed by…

“Atken Sucks!”
“Atken Sucks!”
“Atken Sucks!”

Phil looked at Jesse lying on the apron and appeared to have an idea as he slid under the bottom rope and grabbed the bucket that contained the head gear and mouth guard. Oh did I forget to mention it was a metal bucket earlier? Oh I did? Oh well, too late now. Phil rolled back into the ring straight after and waited from Jesse to clamber back up onto his feet. As Jesse did so, Phil got his bucket loaded and as soon as Jesse got to his feet, Phil ran, jump and whacked Jesse with the bucket straight to the face. Jesse tumbled off the apron and landed down at ringside with a thud. The bell rang and yet again thanks to a weapon Phil Atken claimed another victory inside an ACW ring. 

WINNER : Phil Atken

Being Late Sucks
Author - Kamlesh
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"You're late!"

Quinton May looked up and growled at the backstage official that had just come out of William Laguna's office. He was almost rarely late, but on this night, traffic had outsmarted him. So much so that May had tossed his duffel bag at the car in front of him at one point, and as such, lost all of his gear.

Not that it mattered, since May just wanted to do two things tonight.

"Yeah, I didn't really have a say in it. But I'm in no mood for small talk -- William Laguna in there?" Quinton asked rhetorically, knowing the answer. Or, he thought he knew.

"No, he's not. Well, he is, but he doesn't want to see anyone now."

May scowled, clenching his fists, as the backstage official waved the Canadian adieu and continued walking down the hallway. Quinton had wanted to confront William about last week, where Phil Atken was entitled a shot at the Scorpion Fighting Title.

And in case you haven't been following, Atken won. Cheating Quinton out of the title, actually. Guess that's one of two things Quinton had to do scratched from his list, eh?

"Okay, fine." Quinton murmured to himself, whilst slipping out of his leather jacket. "Then could you tell me where Fejona Min is? I need to talk to her, and I haven't talked to her since our meeting last week."

The official turned around and laughed. Laughed like a man laughing for the fun of it.

"Haven't seen her, man. I don't think she's here. Oh, and, you have a match. TV Title defense later on, before the Main Event. You're facing Lancett." he replied stoically, before whisking himself off into the dark of the night like Batman.

Leaving a rather displeased Quinton May standing in the hallway, sans his gear.

And also, without a chance to take out his frustrations on William Laguna AND without a chance to meet up with his new apparent love-interest, Fejona Min.

"Being late sucks." Quincy remarked. It sure does. But what of his rivalry with Atken & Messiah?

"Guess I'll just do my announcement concerning Atken and Messiah after my match, then."

And there you go. 

Prepare For a Shit Storm
Author - Oz
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His pace quickened as he approached Kade. Simian was walking a few steps in front of him.

“Simian,” the man called out. Kade spun around slowly, he saw the same man who had been talking to Rome the Vile last week. He saw the duffel bag strapped over Kade’s shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

“Hotel,” Kade responded matter-of-factly.

“The hotel?” The man questioned. “But, you just got here.”

“I can’t handle this. I’m gonna catch the next flight to JFK,” Kade said, still marching down the corridor, “and head home.”

“You can’t go,” The man said, putting his hand on Simian’s shoulder, bringing him to a stop. Kade shot him an angry look. The man took his hand off of Simian, “I know why she did it.”

Kade was ready to walk away, but he hesitated. He stood dead in his tracks. He stared blankly into the man’s eyes.

“Why she did what?” He said. Deep down he knew what he was talking about, but he decided to ask anyway.

“Becky. I know why she called things off.”

Kade didn’t respond, he only kept his stare. The man’s blue eyes showed sympathy and regret. He wasn’t proud of what he was telling Kade, but he felt it was necessary.

“Why?” Kade finally said, breaking the silence that engulfed the bowels of the arena around them.

The man paused. He stared at the floor. However, Kade stood tall in all his glory and dignity. The glory and dignity that was to be extinguished with the words that were about to come from the man’s mouth.

“She met Joshua,” the man responded with regret in his voice.

As soon as the words left his lips, Kade’s heart dropped. He could only ponder one thought.

Rome.

The name raced through his mind as he shoved the man aside and began to walk in the opposite direction down the hallway. He abandoned the duffel bag toward the side wall as he proceeded to roll up his sleeves. He walked with purpose through the corridor as he rounded the corner.

The man stood still with a slack jaw. He closed his lips and swallowed nervously. He knew he might have just created a shit storm.

Prematch Bitchslap
Author - Brett
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The Masked Marvel, Bantam Diablo, was talking to a couple of officials. He was always the type of guy to stop and chatter with a few unknown men, “So I here we have a black man running wildly around here these days?”

“Yeah, him and Vinnie Copeland had a little run in last week.” said an official in reply to Bantam, “I also here Ruben started it, but I don’t know; we all know how Vinnie is.” everyone sighed in unison.

“Oh well,” BD shrugged his shoulders, “I have to wrestle that big oaf tonight whether I like it or not.”

“You have to wrestle Ruben Davis?!” said the short, baldheaded official, “I seen him in action last week, he stuck it to Chris Messiah. I mean, big time. That guy has talent; don’t let his size play tricks on you BD because he is quick, strong, and tough. The guy is brutal.”

Bantam didn’t seem to care, “Oh well, I just want to wrestle him, and get out of here. Win or lose, I don’t care. Just hope the big bastard isn’t like Draper, that son of a bitch can’t wrestle for shit. You watched him recently, he sucks!”

“Yeah.” they all said in agreement.

“Well guys, I must be on my way. Don’t forget to root for me out there, you all here? Especially since I’m wrestling that black monkey, I may need all the help I can get.” BD suddenly noticed their eyes peering over his shoulder, “What the hell you guys looking at?”

Silence was all he received so he took it upon himself to turn around. And looking down at him was none other than The Black Prodigious, Ruben Davis. Obviously he had heard the little racist comment he shot off at the officials, thus the reason for the horrid sneer gazing down at Bandia.

“How did I NOT here you sneak up from behind me?” BD shrugged his shoulders, “Oh well, what’s done is done. Would you like to hit me now, or later?” he slapped his cheek, taunting Ruben to hit him.

But the Black Prodigious didn’t oblige. With his arms folded he said, “Either way is fine with me.”

“Well, you make up your mind. Now or later you big oaf.”

“If you insist.” 

Ruben quickly sent a hard right across Bantam’s jaw. BD fell on his back. He rose up and rubbed the sore spot. Ruben crossed his arms again and smirked.

“Anything else you’d like me to take care of?” he looked over at the officials and took a step forward. They split up and ran off in different direction, knocking over different things as they fled.

Ruben looked back at BD who was getting to his feet, “Anything else?”

Bantam grew angry; he couldn’t express it with words. He turned around and walked away, cursing to himself as he turned the corner. Ruben smiled and walked in the opposite direction. 

Making Action Happen
Author - George
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“Ok, G, here it is… All typed up and ready.” Magick Man handed Geo Vacton a sheet of paper, the top of it reading ‘Action! Match Contract.’ Geo looked it over, and then placed it down on the table in front of him so that he could sign it. 

“W-w-wait… Lemme read this over to you so that you got it all… I mean this is going to be a very complicated match…” Magick took the match contract back. Geo nodded.

“Ok, here’s how its gonna be… Each referee represents a wrestler. If wrestler A's referee physically interferes with wrestler B, wrestler A is automatically disqualified, and vice versa. Referee A and referee B may come into physical contact with each other, but not break the other referees pinfall or the wrestler they represent is automatically disqualified. Match can be won via pinfall or submission. There will be no count out, there will be no disqualifications called for the use of weapons however the above disqualifications involving referee interference does apply. A pin can be made absolutely positively anywhere. Wrestlers are free to take the match anywhere they want, including and not limited to the outside of the arena. Once a referee begins a count, the other referee cannot begin their own. Pinfall goes to five.” Magick takes a breath and looks at Geo. “That sound ok?”

Geo grins. “Yeah, mos def… Let’s go bring it to Laguna and get this thing made official…”

Magick smiled. “Yeah…” He thought for a moment. “But you know what… I think I wanna make one last alteration to this thing before we get any ink on it…”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Geo asked Magick.

“…Something I think will be appreciated.” 

Bantam Diablo Vs. Ruben Davis
Author - Brett
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“Thunderstruck” by AC/DC struck and Bantam Diablo stepped out onto stage, receiving a mixed reaction from the audience around him. BD paced down the ramp and slid into the ring. He began by walking circles in the ring, and the focusing his mind at the entrance ramp. Preparing for the huge mammoth he had to face.

Black&White

It was Static-X blaring over the louder speaker and it was Ruben Davis parting the curtains with his shoulders. His big frame stepped out onto the entrance stage and came to a halt. He peered around at the fans that cheered him on, before focusing on The Masked Marvel who waited center-ring. Ruben power walked down the ramp and climbed up the steps, onto the ring apron, and through the ropes. He rotated his arms, popped his neck, and then his knuckles. Bantam Diablo looked on, wondering how he would overcome this black titan of a man.

Ruben took three big steps and was face to face with Bantam. BD looked up at the Black Prodigious and sneered. It was about to go down; all that was left was for the referee to lay down the rules. Once that was done, the bell rang, and Ruben shoved BD across the ring.

Bantam quickly hopped up and angrily looked on; he scanned Ruben from head to toe, trying to find the weakest link. But before he could figure a way to him on, Ruben was walking forward, in his direction. BD then sent a stiff kick to the stomach, but it didn’t seem to affect him, so he sent another, and another. Ruben grabbed Bantam by his neck and lifted him off the ground tossing him across the ring another time.

The Masked Marvel rubbed his neck and stood back up, charging, and dunking a clothesline. He jumped on Ruben’s shoulders just as he turned around and tried flipping him over, but Ruben countered with a powerbomb. He stood up and smiled, mouthing off a few words as he looked down at Bandia. That only added more fuel to the fire, BD shook away the immense pain tingling his body, and gave a quick shot to the groins. Ruben clutched them and fell to his knees. BD stood up and bounced off the ropes sending a dropkick to the face; Ruben fell over allowing BD to cover.

But after the referee counted to one, Ruben tossed Diablo off of him and to the side. BD couldn’t believe the endurance, he was already exhausted from the first five minutes of actions, though he had to suck it all up and continue, or else Ruben would dominate the match.

Bantam stood up…

…As did Ruben.

They both met and locked up with one another and Bantam leveraged himself against the mat, trying to even out all odds and it was a success. He flipped the Black Prodigious over to his opposite side and held on to his neck for a rear chin lock. With it locked in tightly, Ruben slowly began to rise to his feet. BD sent a couple of punches, trying to keep the black titan down but it wasn’t working. Ruben sent two elbow shots to the ribs and pushed Bantam into the ropes, meeting him with a shoulder tackle to end the process.

Davis clutched him and lifted him into the air, doing a few rips before slamming him down on the mat. Ruben pinned the Masked Marvel hoping to end the match quickly, but the referee was slow to get to three, which allowed BD to wiggle free in the nick of time.

Ruben stood up and looked over at the referee, obviously frustrated due to the slow count. He took a step forward as the referee stepped backwards. He cornered him and grasped the rim of his shirt.

Before any damage could be done, BD snuck up behind for a schoolboy. And of course, the referee was quick with the count.

One-Two-Thre-Kickout!

Using his superb strength, Ruben sent BD flying across the ring. Bantam charged as Davis was at his feet and slid between his legs, getting him, and jumping on his shoulders. He began his attack with blows to the head, trying to take down the mammoth. But Ruben was too strong, he flipped around the Masked Marvel and threw one hand up, wrapping it around Bania’s thin neck, and slamming him down.

Ruben used his spare time to walk around the ring and stopped in a corner, placing his hands on his knees, waiting for BD to rise up. But after a long wait, BD never rose. Ruben grew impatient and approached Bantam. He went to pick him up by his hand, but BD sent a foot to the face. Ruben stumbled backwards and BD slid out of the ring, giving himself some spare time.

Bantam walked back and forth outside the ring, thinking of what to do. Ruben ended up stepping through the ropes, meeting BD outside the ring. Bantam quickly jumped back into the ring with Davis on his tail. BD quickly began stomping away on his head, trying to keep the beat down on the mat. But as always, Ruben made his way to his feet.

It was never ending.

He was invulnerable to pain; so it seemed.

The Masked Marvel was losing hope, what else could he do to keep the Black Prodigious down; there was nothing else he could do.

Ruben grabbed BD and tossed him into the ropes, giving him one of his trademark moves; the Power Stroke, as they met center-ring. He jumped up and rotated his neck clockwise before grabbing him and tossing him on his shoulders.

And the match was over as Ruben went in Overdrive.

One.

Two.

Three.

Ruben Davis won again.

WINNER : Ruben Davis

Sign On The Dotted Line
Author - George
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


William Laguna sat at his desk with all sorts of papers around him. This being the last Courage before Revival, he had a lot of work to do. It wasn’t easy getting a Pay-Per-View off the ground, especially one that was shaping up to be as good as Revival.

Anyhoo, there came a knock on the door. “Come in…” Laguna answered the knock, not stopping what he was doing.

Suddenly, the arena filled with boos (the crowd was watching this all on the bigSCREEN). Marshall and The Mammoth slowly entered the office and stood before Laguna’s desk. Laguna looked up at the duo.

“Oh! Act--… Marshall, Mammoth!” The crowd cheered at Laguna’s fumble. Marshall and the Mammoth were, well, obviously displease. “How good to see you two!”

The Mammoth smirked. “Yeah, alright. What’d you want us for?”

Laguna smiled and stood up. “Well, you two are both going to be involved in a very special match this Sunday at Revival… It’s a match that has never been done… And with the complicity of it, probably never will be again. So, obviously there are a lot of technicalities about it that should and need to be looked over. A special match contract has been drawn up by none other than ACW’s very own Magick Man.” Laguna picked up the match contract for a pile of papers on his desk.

“Both Geo and Rose have both signed it by now, and it’s your turn.” He handed it over to the Mammoth. Marshall and the Mammoth eyed it over and sat it down on the desk, ready to sign.

“Looks good to me.” Mammoth said and took out a pen.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want more time to look it over?” Laguna was being cautious.

“Yeah. I’m sure. You seen one of these, you seen ‘em all… Quit making a deal out of it.” Mammoth clicked his pen and quickly signed on the dotted line. He handed his pen over to Marshall, who briefly looked it over for himself.

“Looks good.” And with that, he signed it too.

Laguna smiled. “Alright, excellent. That went smoothly. I’m sorry if I made this more complicated by having to be in front of you this whole time and whatnot… But I just wanted to be here incase either of you had a problem with it.”

“No. No problem.” Mammoth turned and the two began to leave the room. “Just… Just make sure we’re covered as far as excessive violence goes on with our TV deal… If you catch my drift.

Laguna laughed. “Oh, no worries… This is gonna be a great match.”

“Uh huh.” And then the two exited.

Laguna looked over the contract one more time. He laughed, and tossed the paper into another pile. And so it was set. Geo Vacton VS The Mammoth, two referees (Phoenix Rose and Marshall), no DQ, falls count anywhere, five-second pinfalls. How do you spell hype? REVIVAL.

Lets call it at that… shall we?
Author - Josh
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


“Drama, Action, and much, much more,” Lancett spoke as he was found in front of the camera as he continued, “in the ACW. When you, the fans, pay your hard earned money. Do you want to see bad guys going against the heroes of the moment?”

The fans boo him as he speaks and kind of flutter out some of his speech. When he says ‘heroes of the moment’ they all started to chant one man’s name: Ramey! Ramey! Ramey!

“Oh him.”

Lancett looked down, as he was extremely jealous of the attention he was giving Jesse. He knew it was his promo time and he didn’t like how the people where chanting his name, people where hearing his name, and not paying attention to him.

“Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!”

The people just continued the chant.

“Why do you call this man’s name? You even know he isn’t here tonight? YOU FREAKS! I’m not even facing him. I’m facing Quinton May.”

He finishes his sentence and recoiled at the reality of them calling Quinton May their Rising Star, now. He looked back up and the fans booed him just for looking at them.

“Well I’m sure this great city of Minneapolis, Minnesota! Can at least cheer me a bit, call me their Rising Star?” He asked the wrong crowd, as it seemed to their reaction they didn’t really give a flying fuck if he fell of the face of the earth.

“You know what… tonight I’m going to win the title then go on and defend against your Mr. Attitude. So you know what… I’m blasting off like a rocket shit to the stars. You people are just jealous! Because I’m the guy who is arrogant, disrespectful, and better than all of you Minnesota trash!”

Boos arose like no other.

“TRASH! TRASH! TRASH!”

You May Look But You Mustn't Touch
Author - Oz
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Thud. 

The wooden door leading to Laguna’s office opened with a bang as Simian Kade barged into the small room. Laguna was standing at his desk reviewing notes on tonight’s show.

He looked up, acknowledging Kade. 

“Simian,” Laguna said calmly. Kade was visibly red with rage.

“Laguna,” Kade began, trying to hold his anger back, “where is Joshua?”

“Joshua?” Laguna said, a little puzzled by the question, “oh, you mean Rome?”

“That’s the one,” Kade informed him, “have you seen him?”

“No, I have not,” Laguna said, looking up from his work, “but I have seen something else.”

Kade listened intently.

“I see Adam has booked you in a match with Joshua for Revival.”

“It appears that way,” Kade replied. 

Laguna folded his arms and stepped out from behind the desk. He leaned against the front of the mahogany structure. He paused a bit, giving Kade the opportunity to calm down. 

“Simian, I heard what happened with your girlfriend, and with Rome,” Laguna said sympathetically, “and I know this has just added to fuel to an already flourishing fire.”

Kade nodded, however he remained silent. 

“But, Simian, do not let your personal life get in the way of business,” Laguna’s spoke with authority.

“Are you threatening me?” Kade glared deep into the eyes of his boss. 

“Take my message however you’d like,” Laguna replied, returning to the back end of his desk. 

Simian nodded, he didn’t agree, but he would abide by it anyway. No use in drawing himself into more problems. Kade turned, ready to head out the door. Again Laguna spoke. 

“Simian, if you do find him,” William paused, “don’t touch him. Wait until the Pay-Per-View.” 

Kade again glared at Laguna. William was pushing Kade to his limits. Simian knew this was a purposeful act on Laguna’s part. He was playing mind games with Kade. And it was working.

“Ratings will be better that way,” Laguna said. 

Making Action Happen
Author - George
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The bigSCREEN lit up, and Marshall and the Mammoth appeared on screen. They were somewhere backstage, leaning against a wall. “He doesn’t see this coming… And we’re gonna take him out before Revival…” The two grinned. Marshall leaned over to look around the corner next to them. He gasped.

“Ok, here he comes… You ready? Ok, ok… One… Two…” On three the two rushed out from behind their corner where, you guessed it, Geo Vacton was taking a stroll. BOOM! The two knocked Geo down and proceeded to stomp the hell out of him. The Mammoth sat on top of Geo’s chest and began pounding away at his skull and Marshall continued to stomp away at his legs.

The Mammoth lifted Geo up, grabbed him by the shirt and tossed him head on into the wall. The duo began to laugh wildly as they whipped Geo back and forth throughout the hallway. Suddenly, security filled the hallway dragged Marshall and the Mammoth away. The two shuck them off and stepped back.

“Geo… You ain’t gonna walk out of Revival alive. Revival… it isn’t gonna be an Action! Match… It’s gonna be a fight… for your life.” Mammoth laughed, and the two headed off. Couldn’t they just have waited for Revival? 

Television Title
Lancett Vs. Quinton May ©
Author - [K]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

  

On a night like this, how could you not expect a TV Title match-up?

And the lucky challenger? Cue "Numb" by Linkin Park, as the man who earned a rather hard-fought victory over Fejona 'the Cambodian Femme Fatale' last week was about to get his reward for his gritty display. LANCETT was his name, and cockiness was his game. The Rookster appeared confident as he brushed past the curtains and paused on the stage, soaking in the (hostile) atmosphere that was swirling about in the arena.

Tonight would be his big night.

Tonight, he probably thought, would be the culmination of his hard work thus far. And once the TV Title was in his possession, it would serve as a stepping stone to his rise to the very top of the company.

I’m tired of being what you want me to be.
Feeling so faithless lost under the surface.

Don’t know what you’re expecting of me.
Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes.
(caught in the undertone, just caught in the undertone...)

Every step I take is another mistake to you.
(caught in the undertone, just caught in the undertone...)

I 'AVE BECOME SO NUMMMMBBBBBB!

With a chuckle and decked out in his usual gear (consisting of black & yellow tights with black boots), Lancett strode down the ramp purposefully, and that purpose was to head into the Revival PPV -- the first since ACW's reincarnation -- as the new Television Champion. It was obvious in his eyes as he climbed into the ring and took a scathing look at the members of the audience that loathed him so.

To Lancett, the crowd just proved to be a non-negotiable factor that wouldn't make an impact on the match proceedings. Only if HE himself didn't let it, of course.

Standing in the middle of the ring, Lancett took it upon himself to jaw at a couple of the fans in the front rows, proclaiming to them that he was about five minutes away from making history. The hand gestures he made around his waist area also added to his claims.

Although, some would say Lancett was being horny at the absolute worst time in the world. But that's a different story for a different day. Or a different year, for that matter.

Then, "Make A Move" by Lostprophets started to play over the speakers.

The crowd began to erupt, but 17 seconds into the song, the lights in the arena were cut. Now, excitement gripped every single person in the stands, as they counted down to the second where they'd be able to witness the Rising Star of the company appearing before their very eyes.

32 seconds into the song, red and white pyrotechnics lit up the arena.

KA - BOOOOM

So are we lost or do we know?
Which direction we should go?
Sit around and wait for someone,
to take our hands and lead the way.

Because every day we're getting older.
And every day, we all get colder...
We're sick of waiting for our answers.
Our answers...

WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!

Yeah, so tired of waiting...
Waiting for ourselves.

WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!
WAKE UP!

Yeah, so sick of waiting...
For us to make a move.

And there he was, folks. Quinton May. He was scowling, too.

Needless to say, he wasn't in the best of moods, but he wasn't going to let it affect him in the match. Lancett watched as the decorated Television Champ -- wearing just black jeans and black boots -- stormed down the ramp, and the former's eyes lit up when he detected the slightest of limps on Quinton May's part.

So then, the Rookster looked up at the rafters, supposedly dreaming up a wonderful strategy.

Quinton, meanwhile, slid into the ring and completely ignored the fans that were cheering animalistically for him. Instead, he shoved his TV Title right into the referee's arms and stormed over to Lancett. May saw Lancett as a roadblock to what he had to say to Atken and Messiah later on.

The faster the match was done and over with, the better.

The referee knew May wasn't in the most of pleasant of moods, and did something about it.

* DING DING DING *

This snapped the former hWo superstar out of his little 'strategic mindset'. Well, actually, Quinton's fierce right hook took the credit for that, but you get the idea. Lancett staggered back into the ropes, and got floored as he bounced back into May's path. This incited a louder-than-usual 'pop' from the crowd, but neither man was paying attention.

Especially Quinton, who'd just gotten punched in the dick as he crouched down to pull Lancett up.

Fastest recovery of bearings, EVEEEEER.

The Rookster clambered to his feet and laughed, ignoring the referee's admonishment and resorting to stinging clubbing forearms across Quinton's back. The match was barely a minute old, and we already had a low-blow and evil laughing. Classic. Anyways, Lancett must have thought the same thing because he suddenly decided to slap on a side headlock, in an attempt to slow down the pace of the match (which was only accelerated due to the barrage of his overhand clubs).

I know, weird and unorthodox opening to a match.

Quinton growled, the fire in his crotch fading away. That allowed the Television Champion to muster some strength to stagger back into the ropes. Following which, he wrapped his arms around Lancett's waist and with a mighty grunt, tossed Lancett out of the ring with a belly-to-back throwaway suplex.

Only one problem; Lancett somehow managed to land on the apron. Tricky bastard.

May stumbled back towards the middle of the ring, hand holding his spine, before he turned around. He knew better than anyone else that wasting precious seconds in a match was a big no-no, but the Rising Star of the ACW was surprised when hWo's former Rising Star Champ used the ropes to catapult himself back into the ring. Once again, landing on his feet.

Quincy wasn't THAT impressed, though. He ducked the resulting clothesline attempt from Lancett and waited for the latter to come back off the ropes, scoring with a good ol'-fashioned hiptoss.

Lancett forced himself up, and once again, found himself soaring back down courtesy of a hiptoss.

Third time a charm? Lancett sure thought so, but it wasn't the case. This time, Quinton tried a little variation; spinning heel kick to the ribs, followed by a snap suplex with his right arm hooking Mr Kid Frost's head. It was a little awkward for May to use the suplex on the right side, but there's a first time for everything.

And this would be the first pin in this match;


ONE.


TWO.


TH - NO!


Wayyyy too early to be celebrating, don't you think?

Quinton showed minimal emotion as he dug his fingernails down into Lancett's lower neck, and used his free left hand to good effect, blasting away at his opponent's temple. The referee stepped in to curb the blatant disregard for the rules, and almost immediately, the Survivor of M15 relented. Only to pull Lancett up and crack his jaw with a vile right hand.

And again.

And again.

And again.

You get the idea by now, I hope.

Lancett was reeling, and May was having fun taking out his frustrations on the challenger to his title. So much so that May kicked the Rookster just above his groinal area and whipped him into the ropes, hoping to take him down with a clothesline.

No such luck. Lancett ducked it, took himself into the parallel set of ropes, and hit May with a dropkick to the legs just as the latter turned around, confuddled with how he'd missed a simple clothesline.

The result?

Quinton May fell to the canvas, clutching his right leg in agony. The stress May's right leg had been under had now cropped up again. Lancett smiled and kipped to his feet, delighted that he'd actually managed to seek out the one NEW weakness the Television Champion sported. The embarrassing knockdown at the start of the match was worth it, Lancett thought.

Because he'd just found his ticket to stardom.

Quinton wisely tried to scramble out of the ring to regroup, but Lancett was quick to react, reaching down to catch Quincy by his ankles, pulling him back to the middle of the ring. Somehow, May managed to squirm his left foot out of his challenger's grasp, but before the champion could do anything about it, the back of his right thigh was lit on fire.

Lancett had directed the stiffest of kicks to the new Achilles Heel of Quincy Mama, and proceeded to stomp away viciously without any remorse whatsoever. Survival of the fittest, innit?

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP!

STOMP!

The crowd? They, quite obviously, hated this.

The Young Lion wasn't paying the slightest of attention to them, however. He was obsessed with softening up Quincy Mama for the kill, and by that juncture, the Rising Star's right leg was bent way out of shape. It was... un-natural, really, but Lancett wasn't about to let up. In fact, since he'd gotten tired of the stomping, he decided to end the match then & there.

How? Simple.

The Peoria Pirate was going to utilise the ol' Figure Four Leglock! YAY! RIC FLAIR WOULD BE SO PROUD!

Oh, no, he wouldn't. Quinton's right leg may have been under siege, but his left leg was perfectly fine. And as such, he used it to great effect, catching Lancett right in the crotch.

Payback. Ahhh, aren't they bitches?

So are roll-up pins, if you really think about it. Lancett was, since he was CAUGHT IN SUCH;


ONE.


TWO.


THRE - NOOOOOOO!


That was close. Very close.

Lancett knew it, and Quinton knew it. Both men were raging mad, for contrasting reasons, but as the two of them recovered, the Peoria Pirate found that he was more incensed. His opponent, who could barely stand up properly, had caught him in the ribs with a left-legged kick. And if that wasn't bad enough, May forced Lancett off the canvas.

It was time to pay homage to the basics. Like, a gut-wrench suplex. FACT -- Lancett doesn't like gut-wrench suplexes. Don't ask me why, he just doesn't. Maybe he thinks it's 'gay'.

With that in consideration, Quinton May decided to improvise halfway, since his right leg was killing him and now more than ever, that was proving to be a good reason to wrap up the match quickly. So, with a little bit of trickery, Quinton planted Lancett with a DIAMOND CUTTER! DDP, this is for you.

The crowd were overawed by the snazzy-looking offensive move, and were even more elated when Quinton made the cover;


ONE.


TWO.


THRE - NOOOOOOO!


You could really hear the collective groan of disappointment from the crowd.

Because, yet again, Lancett had found a way to kick out. Perhaps it was Quinton's lax cover? Either way, what appeared to be the end of the match was merely a ruse, and Quinton cursed himself as he used the ropes to pick himself up. Lancett remained plastered to the canvas, a little bit of blood trickling out of his nose.

May saw this, smiled, and began to stomp away at the nose with his left leg. It was only fair, the Rising Star felt.

Before long, claret had splattered all over the canvas, and Lancett's nose was officially busted. Quinton May didn't quite end his assault there. He reached down and pulled Lancett up, continuing to further damage the Peoria Pirate's nose with several right hooks. Lancett wasn't about to stand idly by and do nothing, however; with a stroke of luck, Quincy stopped just a second for a breather, taking his first look at the stands.

That was when the Young Lion raked May's eyes and took a swipe at the latter's right leg.

However, that stroke of genius didn't quite pan out for Lancett. Why? Oh, because wily Quinton dragged his right leg backward, before knocking Lancett down with a forearm shot. That's why.

"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"

Reaching down, the former two-time Scorpion Fighting Champion (don't remind him how he lost last week) pulled Lancett back up and following a brace of knife-edged chops, whipped the Young Lion into one of the four corner turnbuckles. Now, usually Quinton would just run at Lancett. But this time around, because of his right leg hurting like hell, May opted for something different and somewhat unique.

Taking two steps back, Quincy Mama spectacularly cartwheel-ed himself across the ring (twice!), lunging at Lancett once he was close enough with a spear.

Oh, it would have been magical if he'd actually connected with the spear, eh?

The Peoria Pirate quietly observed his adversary and jumped out of harm's way at the last possible second, causing Quinton's left arm to collide with the steel ring-post. And being the opportunist that he was, Lancett sneaked up behind the dazed Quincy Mama, rolling him up. WHILST holding on to Quincy's jeans.

The referee was none the wiser, however;


ONE.


TWO.


THR - FUCK THAT SHIT!


Lancett's sentiments exactly. I'm just guessing here, I don't really read minds.

.... I don't!

Ahem. Back to the match. The Rookster was pretty frustrated that even with the aid of holding on to the waistband of May's jeans, the victory wasn't obtained. Shaking his head, Lancett got to his feet, charging at Quinton who had his back turned. Somehow, though, Quincy Mama knew what was about to happen and ducked the clothesline attempt, almost catching Lancett on the return with his trademark high-leg clothesline.

Lancett, however, just barely evaded getting hit and retaliated seconds later, almost decapitating May with a snap jumping sidekick once Quincy regained his bearings and turned around.

Uncharacteriscally enough, the Peoria Pirate smugly chortled at the crowd, before making the cover;


ONE.


TWO.


THR - OMG WTF BBQ!


Meaning, Quinton May kicked out and Lancett's eyeballs popped out of their sockets.

The latter didn't actually happen, but the former did, which was why the crowd breathed a collective sigh of relief. Some resorted to mocking Lancett, who stupidly thought that arguing with the referee would make a difference.

This allowed Quinton the chance to recuperate, and he looked like he was mapping out ways he could surprise Lancett, just so that he would be able to go ahead and make his big announcement concerning Phil Atken and Chris Messiah.

His right leg would have a lot to do with the announcement and his intention to end the match, surely.

So, it wasn't a great shocker to all when May raked Lancett in the eyes when the former hWo Rising Star Champion turned around and pulled the Canadian Gladiator up. In fact, I bet on it -- and won sixty two dollars. Anyways, May got off his knees and bounced off the ropes, flawlessly connecting with his high-leg clothesline (using the left leg to strike Lancett).

The result? Ask the crowd, their cheers were deafening.

May rolled on his head and sprung up to his feet, still limping heavily but surviving the searing pain that was half-paralysing his right leg (I assume). The Peoria Pirate too had gotten back to his feet, and received more knife-edged chops to his chest for his troubles.

But, when May tried to whip the Rookster into the ropes, Lancett used his superior weight advantage to hang on, before kicking the Canadian in the right knee.

Cheap shot. That damn Lancett.

Then, the Young Lion dragged May toward him and caught him in a front facelock. The precursor to the Legacy Ender, if you recall from the weeks gone by. The small pocket of Lancett fans cheered, but the excitement (for the Lancett fans) was short-lived when Quincy Mama powered out of there.

With a classic Northern Lights suplex. WITH THE BRIDGE.

Need I say anymore?

I think not, but I will. So, then, the referee got down to his knees and smacked his lips;


ONE.


TWO.


THRE - LANCETT SURVIVES!


This match had its fair share of close calls, but that was possibly as close as it got. The Young Lion just managed to get his shoulder up in time, breaking the pin, and retaining his chances of a huge upset. As it were, Quinton May didn't mind one bit that he came within a whisker of winning and didn't, sucking it up like a true competitor.

An attempted roundhouse kick with the left leg once Lancett had recovered didn't pay dividends, unfortunately. The Peoria Pirate rolled underneath it, and to prove that his brains weren't totally scrambled from the Northern Lights trip, a low strike to May's right knee followed as soon as Quincy Mama turned around.

Then, a snap suplex.

Nothing new, you say? Well, how about another snap suplex, smartass?

How about a third one, eh? EH?

EHHHHHHHH?!?!

For some reason, though, Quinton May didn't feel that being planted with a third snap suplex was all that appealing, and as such, floated over. Landing on his feet. This led to the Canadian Gladiator hooking his arms around Lancett's waist, and...

GERMAN SUPLEX!

And just like Lancett had done earlier, May was looking to go the distance, pulling himself and the Young Lion up, only to dish out another GERMAN SUPLEX! The crowd were on their feet now, counting down to the seconds when the trifecta would be complete. As it were, the red-haired Canadian had different ideas.

Oh, sure, it didn't seem that way when he picked Lancett up for a third German suplex.

Care to explain why, then, did he slam the Peoria Pirate face-first down to the canvas instead of hitting the final suplex in the series? I'll tell you why; May wanted Lancett to feel the pain he was feeling.

This translated to... CROSSFACE SUBMISSION!

Lancett was in deeeep shite. Knee-deep shite, I'd say.

The crowd's frenzied cheering and taunting weren't helping the Young Lion, either. I'm betting this wasn't the way the Rookster wanted to lose. In fact, I can safely vouch that Lancett didn't even think he'd end up losing. And for the moment, he wouldn't. Because, as shitty as it was for Quinton May...

... the ropes saved Lancett.

That's right. Keeping his cool, Lancett fought past the urge to tap out and reached for the ropes.

Quincy Mama begrudgingly released the hold and stood to his feet, disappointed with himself for taking Lancett down so close to the ropes. The Canadian Gladiator wiped the sweat off his forehead and stomped away at Lancett's left shoulder, hoping to weaken it further, just like the latter had targeted Quincy's right knee.

The Peoria Pirate, however, wasn't going to fall into that rabbit hole. As soon as Quincy reached down to pull Lancett up, the latter lashed out with a swinging hook, which was followed with a round of European uppercuts. Just like that, the momentum of the match had swayed back to Lancett's favour.

And Lancett aimed to make full use of it. He just didn't know how, with Quincy consistently being able to fight back without signs of fatigue. Biting his lower lip, the Rookster kicked May in the right leg again, before bouncing himself off the ropes. The Survivor of M15 growled and tried to one-up Lancett in retaliation, in the form of a clothesline.

That was easily ducked, and Lancett quickly countered with a snap fall-out neckbreaker!

With several particles of trash making its way into the ring, Lancett hooked the legs;


ONE.


TWO.


THRE - MY GOD, NOOOOO!


Quinton May refused to give up.

As hammered as he was, he simply refused to relinquish control of his TV Title. Lancett was beside himself and buried his face in his hands, cursing silently, wondering just what he had to cough up to keep Quinton down. So far, nobody in this new incarnation of ACW had been able to pin Quincy Mama. And no, last week's match with Atken doesn't count.

Because, the Canadian Gladiator wasn't pinned.

Getting to his feet, Lancett again began his focused and calculated assault on the prone right leg of his opponent, stomping away at it mercilessly, before backing off and allowing Quinton to recover on his own merit. And, much to the joy of the fans in attendance, Quinton did just that.

Only to get another European uppercut for his troubles.

May dropped down to his knees, teeth grinding against each other as sweat trickled down his neck, but Lancett was increasingly desperate now and didn't wish for his advantage to slip away again. As such, he picked Quincy up and cradled the champion in his left arm, before hitting a perfect shin-breaker.

Once again, targetting the right leg of Quincy Mama.

The Peoria Pirate was showcasing his technical brilliance tonight, hanging on to Quincy and inciting more gargled screaming from the Canadian Gladiator with another shin-breaker, with the crowd jeering their hearts out. Lancett was far from finished, however. He was sure that one more shin-breaker would do the job.

And so he went in search of the third shin-breaker.

The only problem was, Quinton May SOMEHOW managed to clutch the top rope and hung on to it tightly, before yanking himself out of Lancett's grasp and seating himself down onto the top of the nearby turnbuckle. A most unorthodox counter, to say the very least, and the Young Lion didn't know what to make of it.

This was well documented when he turned around. May kicked him in the face with his left leg.

Then, Quincy Mama decided that if he couldn't find an opening for his Hideaway finisher, he would have to retaliate to his Seraphic Cessation finisher. Or, rather, *I* arrived at that conclusion, based on how excited Quinton seemed to be on the turnbuckle. Try as he could, however, the TV Champ couldn't quite balance himself at the top.

Which allowed Lancett to recover and with the speed that would make Maurice Jones blush, he raced over to the turnbuckle and jumped onto the second ropes, punching Quincy in his right knee. Effectively stopping the champion's attempt to balance himself at the top. Now, this is where it got very interesting.

Without regard for his own well-being and with May stranded at the top, Lancett decided to make himself famous.

He pulled himself up to the top of the turnbuckle, wrapped his arms around Quincy's body, and...

...

...

.... BELLY-TO-BELLY SUPLEXED QUINTON MAY OFF THE TOP ROPE!

"HOLY SHIT!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
"HOLY SHIT!"
"HOLY SHIT!"

They didn't like Lancett, but they had to pay their dues: that move rocked the body that rocked the party.

And, with his last bit of energy, Lancett rolled over and made the cover. Making deathly sure that he hooked Quinton's outer leg, as well as getting all of his body mass on top of May's anatomy;


ONEEEEE.


TWOOOOO.


THREEEEEEEEENOOOOOOOOOOOO.


Quinton May was still very much alive, thank you very much.

Lancett was stunned. He'd hooked the leg, he'd gotten his body on top of May's. He'd done everything humanly possible, but, still the victory was eluding him. Getting to his feet, wide-eyed, the Peoria Pirate stared at the crowd for the first time in the match, and smoke came billowing out of his ears.

He'd snapped.

Motioning with his hands that the end was near, Lancett stomped over to Quinton's legs and stomped down on his opponent's right thigh one last time, before attempting what is commonly known as the best submission finisher in the world.

The Sharpshooter.

But, as Lancett locked the legs and leaned downwards to add in turning May over, the Canadian Gladiator suddenly roused back to life and grabbed Lancett's hair, pulling him down and hooking the leg in what was effectively a variant of a small package pin. The referee was taken aback, but recovered quickly to make the count;


ONE.


TWO.


THRE - KICKOUT! KICKOUT!


Well, okay, more of a ROLLOUT, but the point was that Lancett saved himself from certain defeat.

Jumping back to their feet, both warriors charged at each other, knowing that one fatal mistake would be the deciding factor now. Lancett was quicker but his European uppercut was sidestepped by Quinton, who used his left leg to sweep out Lancett's legs from under him via a backheel trip.

The Peoria Pirate was smarter than he looked, though.

Knowing that he was in a very compromising and vulnerable position, he quickly rolled on his back and kicked out at Quinton, who closed in for what I assume was a Sharpshooter of his own. As it was, he didn't get a chance to lock in it. Lancett, relived, kipped back to his feet and immediately ducked a clothesline from May, slapping on a rear waislock in return.

May lashed out with a reverse elbow show, breaking the waistlock, before bouncing himself into the ropes. The Young Lion was slightly dazed, but recovered nonetheless, and charged forward, hoping to intercept May with a clothesline of his own. Silly chicken, couldn't he realise that he hadn't been very successful with clotheslines in the match?

Either way, The Canadian Gladiator rolled underneath it, jumped to his feet, and sneaked up on Lancett from behind...

... before planting him with a BRIDGING DRAGON SUPLEX.

It HAD to be over;


ONE.


TWO.


THREE!


It was indeed, at long last, over.

Camera flashes went off, the crowd stood to their feet, and the celebrations began. Another spectacular TV Title defense from Quinton May, who had fought a certain Elijah Arson in a FIVE-STAR bout just last year. Perhaps this one with Lancett wasn't as magical as that one, but nevertheless, the result was the same.

Quinton retained. Props to Lancett, though; a rising star in his own right. Truly.

But, this wouldn't be the end of the night for Quinton.

Not a chance.

WINNER : Quinton May

Being Late Sucks
Author - Kamlesh
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"Cut the music." Quinton demanded, as he was tossed a microphone.

Yes, May's theme music had started up to signify that he had triumphed in a possible MOTY contender, but the Canadian Gladiator wasn't going to revel and bask in the glory of a hard-fought contest. He had other business to tend to. In the form of two men that have gotten on his nerves over the last couple of weeks.

By the time Quinton hobbled to the middle of the ring and found his request fulfilled, the TV Title was thrusted back into his posession and Lancett had dejectedly ambulated away from the ring. He'd given it his all on the night, but it wasn't quite enough. Perhaps it wasn't his time yet. Quincy didn't care, he'd resumed his scowling.

"Alright, then." the Canadian murmured, noticing that the fans had settled back into their seats. "Now, I didn't plan to have a match tonight, but then again, I didn't plan on having a match last week. Let's go a little further -- I didn't plan to entitle Phil Atken a shot at my Scorpion Fighting Title, which I no longer have. Just goes to show that things don't quite work the way I expected here.

But I guess that's in keeping with tradition, eh?

I'm not one to be bitter over trivial matters, though. In all honesty, most of you know that the Scorpion Fighting Title and I don't quite go along. It's not a big deal that I don't have it anymore, but it IS a big deal when I get jumped and blindsided every single week. Reminds me of days gone by, when a certain sodding cunt used to play those kind of parlour tricks. In short, I've become very fucking tired of these games."

Lowering the mic for a second, Quinton placed his TV Title on his left shoulder, wincing at the extreme pain exuding from within his right leg. Backstage, Lancett surely must have been seeking solace in being the man that possibly broke Quinton May's leg, but enough about the Peoria Pirate. That loser.

Ahem.

Quinton continued, shaking his head. "And since we conveniently have our first PPV coming up this Sunday, I figure that I'd be the one to take the initiative to end all this nonsensical occurrences. I had to put my body on the line in a Ladder Match, I had to juggle the responsibilities of being a double champion, I had to endure a sneak attack and an eventual crucifixion. Best of all, I have had to live with multiple beatdowns outta nowhere.

All of this, while having a nagging leg injury which has been well exploited tonight.

The bottomline? It takes more than all of that to put me down. It takes a mammoth effort to keep me down, because I don't quit. I don't give up. But, now, I see that there are two more individuals who possess the same trait. Phil Atken and Chris Messiah. They too don't quit.

In taking cheap shots at me, that is. Which is why I'm proposing...

... a TRIPLE THREAT MATCH."

Surprisingly, the fans weren't hoarse from all the cheering they'd done throughout the night, because the roof of the arena was almost blown away. Their hero, the Rising Star, was finally making it official. For weeks, many thought it would happen.

Now, they were CERTAIN of it. A Triple Threat showdown was on the cards!

"This won't be a normal Triple Threat Match, though." Quinton interjected, once again muting the crowd. "I have certain ideas on how to make this worth my while and worth the time of Phil Atken and Chris Messiah. After all, they have laid claim to my TV Title, so I think that I will go ahead and make this showdown much more exciting.

Firstly; yes, my Television Title will be on the line.

Secondly; yes, I actually do want Atken to put his Scorpion Fighting Title on the line. Which brings me to my third point; this match will be NO HOLDS BARRED.

And finally...

... I want this match to be an ULTIMATE SUBMISSIONS MATCH. 30 minutes, the person with the most number of submission decisions at the end of it all will win the match and their respective reward!"

Alright, then. It is official.

QUINTON MAY IS A MAD, ALCHEMIC GENIUS!!!111

With the crowd cheering wildly at all the stipulations May had thrown out to his two new enemies, the Canadian Gladiator staggered backwards, resting himself against the turnbuckle, for the benefit of his leg. He looked up at the crowd and smiled for the first time in the night, knowing that his idea had been well-received.

But before he could speak up again, something stopped Quincy.

"Eye of the Tiger" by Survivor.

And here came PHIL 'bloody' ATKEN, sauntering down the ramp, with his A! Title in one hand and his Scorpion Fighting Title in the other. Sans the bucket this time around, but the crowd didn't care, as they jeered YOUR Entertainment Saviour. May appeared unimpressed by how Atken mouthed off to the fans, but Phil finally did climb into the ring, proud as a peacock.

Placing his titles on his shoulders, Phil called for a microphone.

Of course, the Grand Poobah of Sexiness didn't expect the mic to hit him in the head, but Phil ignored it and called for another microphone, which safely landed in his hands. The crowd quietened down, wondering what Phil had to say in reply to Quinton's challenge for the Revival PPV.

"I AGREE TO ALL YOUR TERMS AND CONDITIONS!" Atken announced with gusto, inciting a moderate pop.

Quinton smirked and clapped mockingly towards Phil, who nodded his head like a prize idiot. All the time, his eyes were on May's TV Title. Surely, Phil's shoulders must already be wasted due to carrying the A! Title & the Scorpion F'ing Titles?

... Uhhh, who cares?

"I do have a question, though. How will we determine how my precious Scorpion Fooking Title changes hands?" Phil spoke up against, bringing up a very interesting and valid point.

May sniggered. "I WAS going to touch on that before you came out and interrupted me, you cockknocker."

Just then, something happened!

"Bittersweet Symphony (JLIR)" by The Verve started up over the speakers. This could only mean one thing; CHRIS 'bloody' MESSIAH. And true enough, despite popular belief, Messiah brushed past the curtains and hurried down the ramp, much to Atken's confusement and Quinton's dismay.

Because, y'know, Atken thought Chris had left and Quinton wanted to speak more on the matter.

And now, for the first time in oh, a week, the triad stood facing one another yet again. Emotions were certainly running high. An elderly gentleman in the front row even started crying at the sight of Chris Messiah. What a fan. Chris, of course, had a microphone, and soon enough was addressing his two foes.

Or at least one of them.

"Phil, you might be wondering where I rushed off to earlier. Well, there’s a simple explanation behind it, if you care to pay attention: Whilst you were mocking me a couple of hours ago about my lack of championship gold, I couldn’t help but think about thReat. I was the longest reigning thReat International Champion ever.

Fair enough, I was the only International champion ever, but that’s beside the point. Then, I got to think about your up-coming book on the Atken’s diet, and I was soon pondering about fat people. Especially your mother, but especially Santa Claus. And then~!, and idea struck me.

Santa Claus manages to..."

Phil then interrupted Chris with some heart-breaking news, or at least tried to. “Chris, there is no..."

"Yes Phil, there’s no time to waste here, I’m talking as quickly as possible!" Chris explained, as Quinton rolled his eyes and Atken held back his laughter. "Santa manages to deliver presents to over six billion people each Christmas Eve in the space of a couple of hours. How does he manage this I ask you?"

"Chris, Santa Claus isn’t real…" Atken started up, but once again, Chris interrupted.

"Yes Phil, don’t interrupt me. Santa Claus isn’t really having to deliver presents to over six billion people each Christmas Eve. And do you know why? Do you? Because of time travel! Einstein couldn’t crack it; I thought Doc. Brown had done it but then someone informed me that Back to the Future wasn’t a documentary; but now I, Chris Messiah, have finally solved the puzzlement of time travel!" Messiah beamed, undoutedbly proud of himself.

"What has this got to do with anything?" Atken remarked.

"I’ll tell you, Phil. When I ran away earlier with my tail between my legs, I was going straight to the airport. I purchased a return ticket to Northern Ireland, retrieved something from my home, and then returned here again, less than two hours later, to stand before you!" Chris responded, with Quinton shaking his head.

Phil, on the other hand, scratched his head. "What are you talking about?"

"You see Phil, my first aeroplane journey tonight saw me fly backwards in time, as I flew in a westerly direction across Eastern Time, Central Time, Mountain Time, Pacific Time, Japanese Time, Foreign Time, and so on and so forth, until I arrived at the International Airport back home early this morning, a full twelve hours before we had our little conversation! I raced home, grabbed my belongings, and caught the next flight out here.

I flew straight over the Atlantic Ocean, therefore catching up with the time I had lost due to going back in time, and I arrived back here in America only ninety minutes after I had departed. One cab drive later, and here I am, sweating like your sister after an evening with Quinton May!"

In the back, William Laguna blinked. In Canada, Bret Hart started slitting his wrists.

Phil Atken, however, actually decided to indulge Chris some more, through no fault of his own. "I’m so confused right now. What was the purpose of all this travelling that did not actually happen?"

Messiah laughed. "All will be revealed, quite literally, in a matter of moments – Phil; Quinton; let’s cease this moronic running down to the ring seven times a show to interfere in each others’ matches, because quite frankly I’ve got athlete’s foot and the extra exertion isn’t helping. I was checking my Chippendales Calendar and low and behold, if there isn’t a pay-per-view in a few days."

A frustrated Phil Atken interrupted Chris yet again. Meanwhile, Quinton May appeared as if he was about to fall asleep.

"Chris, Quinton’s already challenged us to a match. If you hadn’t been hiding somewhere playing Santa Claus you would have heard that!" Atken retorted exasperatedly.

"Then I accept whatever the challenge was! After the events of last week, where Phil managed to get himself booked in a match with Quinton, in which he won the Scorpion Fighting championship in questionable circumstances – Quinton, what goes around comes around. Or is it what comes around goes around? Whatever is doing the coming and going, the basic principle here is that both of you have championships, whereas I do not.

Quite philly, Frank, I don’t give a damn about the Scorpion Fighting championship. I’m only interested in Quincy’s groinal region. But so that I do not look like the odd-one-out, I’ve flown across continents to present you all with something that means a hell of a lot more than those two belts combined – the thReat International championship!" the eccentric Messiah continued rambling, before yanking up his t-shirt.

And there indeed was that very championship belt around his waist. Strapped on upside down? Sure, why not.

Messiah started to speak again, unfortunately. "This is just to make sure that everybody here knows that I’m not the underdog in this whole affair. Quinton, that Television title is what I’m after, but it seems we all have a problem. Phil, I want you. Quinton, I want you again. And you both want me and each other. If there was just some way~! in which I could wrestle you both at the same time, to get it all over and done with. The sooner the better, because my gynaecologist is begging me to stop getting so stressed-out at Courage each week. It’s just not good for my fallopian tubes apparently."

"Chris, what did I just say? Quinton has already challenged us both to a match. Both titles are on the line." Atken cut in again, looking like his head might explode.

"Good! Good. Then it is settled." Messiah quipped, nodding his head.

And Quinton May?

He threw his mic down, grabbed his TV Title, and ran over Atken. Yes, by cracking him in the back of the head with his title belt. Chris Messiah was stunned by this, and so were the crowd, but within a matter of seconds, Messiah found himself being tackled to the canvas by the Canadian Gladiator.

The term for this is, CLUSTERFUCK KHAOS!

Just as it had started, though, streams of security officials raced down to the ring to break it up, even when Atken recovered and jumped on Quinton. The crowd had erupted, but were now jeering the security for putting an end to what surely was a prelude to Sunday. The three men that hated each other would have to wait until then to get what they wanted.

And if the weeks gone by is any indication, the Triple Threat Showdown will be massive.

M - A - S - S - I - V - E.

Right Here, Right Now!!
Author - George
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


The doors of William Laguna’s office flung open. Geo Vacton and Magick Man rushed into the room. Geo hovered over Laguna’s desk, breathing heavily. Magick Man stood behind him, his face filled with discontent.

“Mr. Laguna… You saw what just happened back there… You saw those two ATTACK me!! Tell me you’re gonna do something about that!! Tell me you’re gonna give me a match with him right here, right now!!” Geo slammed his fist on the desk.

Laguna looked up at Geo calmly. He bit his bottom lip. “Geeoo… aye yie yie… yeah, I saw what happened out there… But it’s the end of the night… We got Hawk VS Alias and that’s it… I can’t fit another match on the card…”

Geo stomped his foot. “No! I ain’t gonna take that as an answer! Gimmie a match, tonight! I ain’t gonna wait ‘til Revival…”

Laguna scratched his chin. “Geo… There’s nothing I can do.”

Now, it was Magick’s turn to step in. “Mr. Laguna… I think there is something you can do. We both realize that there are time constraints on tonight’s show, and lord knows it’d be terrible business to put this or any match as a dark match after the cameras stop rolling… But, I think we have another option.”

Laguna looked up at Magick. “What’s that?”

“Well, you could always make tonight’s main event be a tag team match… SilverHAWK and the Mammoth VS Alias and Geo Vacton… right?”

The crowd exploded.

Laguna grinned from ear to ear. “Magick… I like it. You got it. Go get ready Geo, you’re up next.”

Geo grinned. “Thanks a million, Willy.”

“…Willy?” Laguna questioned Geo, but he was already out the door along with Magick Man. He had a score to settle.

Some things are meant to be
Author - Josh
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Lancett pulled his elbow pad up his arm and flexed his arm to see if it was secured and tight. He looked over to his gym back as he heard a repeating tone of notes.

He pulled his cell phone out of his backpack and answered it.

“Hey there Abbey.”

“Of course you can come to the back after my match. I got a surprise for you tonight. Come on back after my match and you can have it alrighty? Okay baby.”

With his normal: I love you too and goodbye, baby. Wasn’t at the ending of this phone call. He hanged the phone up and tossed it on his bag as he looked up to his locker and smiled. “Tonight is the night.”

Prone To Violence?
Author - Zezu
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Who am I?

Am I the man who I think that I am, or am I the man that you want me to be?

In about 10 minutes I'll be going out to the ring and battling with my latest nemesis.

The man on the top of my list, but will he be there for long?

ICU wasn't.

ERA wasn't.

Osyrus wasn't.

Khristain Keller wasn't.

Ethan Winters wasn't.

So what do I do after Revival if I still have the gold?

Look for the next man to add to my list.

What do I do if I lose?

Go back and try again, show everyone that I've failed, as I'm not afraid of failure.

Because the man who is afraid of failure, will never know true success.

Aaron Jones equals success.

SilverHAWK equals success.

Aaron Jones equals SilverHAWK; and that means that you are fucked.

Touché
Author - Oz
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He rounded the corner, there leaned against the wall adjacent to Simian Kade was Rome the Vile. He had his cell phone pressed to his ear. 

Steven Klein didn’t need to hear the conversation to tell whom he was talking to. He could see by the smile on his face that it was someone he really liked as well as cared for. A sinister smile appeared on Simian’s face. A man is vulnerable when he is in a state of romance and has feelings of affection for someone. Kade knew this. He had been there himself not too long ago, remember.

Kade began to move with purpose down the hallway. Rome spotted him, he quickly said his good-bye’s and hung up the phone. Simian trekked toward him, however he remembered the words Laguna had told him just minutes prior. He slowed up a little; giving Joshua the time to get set, incase there was a physical conflict. 

“What do you want Kade?” Rome called down the hallway to his adversary. 

“You know damn well what I want,” Kade shot back at him with hostility in his voice. 

“This about Sunday?” Rome asked. He sensed there was something wrong, something different about Kade. This seemed personal. But every person in the arena could see this, so he had to go along with it. 

“No, it’s not about Sunday. It’s about her.” Kade stopped roughly seven or eight feet from Joshua. Neither man dared move as they looked directly into one another’s eyes. 

“Her?” Rome said with genuine confusion. 

“Yes, her.” 

“Who’s her?” 

“Becky.” 

Rome’s eyes widened. He now knew this wasn’t about ACW. Or even wrestling for that matter; this was real life. And the animosity between Steven and Joshua was about to boil over into something that no body in ACW was going to enjoy seeing. Especially Laguna.

“How do you know about Becky?” Rome said with suspicion. 

“Did she tell you she was seeing someone else Josh, huh? Did she? When you met her in New York last weekend, did she mention anything about another guy in her life?” 

“She said something about another relationship, yeah. But, she said it wasn’t working out, so she wanted to see other people. Wait, I’m not following you.” Rome said, scratching his head. 

“Well follow this mother fucker, that someone was me,” Kade said with authority. The crowd watched in silence as the heat between the two grew. “Touché.”

“What?” Rome began to get anxious. Kade didn’t look at all happy. 

“You got me Rome. Jokes on me. You walk into ACW, thinking you’re all that. Thinking you run the damn place. OK, I can live with that. That’s business. But now, this isn’t business Joshua; it’s personal.” 

“So, what are you gonna do? You gonna fight me? You gonna put me in my place?” Joshua’s began to get defensive; he was agitated. “Steve, I didn’t have the slightest clue that you were dating her, don’t you think you should take this up with her?” 

“No, because I’m taking it up with you.”

Kade ran at Rome, spearing him in the ribs and knocking him to the cold concrete floor. Rome gasped as the air was expelled from his lungs. He lay on the floor as fist after fist pummeled his facial area. He put his arms up to protect him as Kade got to his feet and began to kick Joshua in the ribs. 

Again and again Kade’s size twelve-shoe soul embedded itself into the midsection of Rome the Vile. Officials came pouring down the hallway to try to end the bedlam. Kade threw an official aside and continued the assault. 

However as the pack of referees and road agents grew Kade relented as he was dragged off of Joshua. 

Kade brushed himself off and began to walk down the hallway, with the crowd still in awe. 

“As I said, touché, mother fucker.” 

Tag Team Match
SilverHAWK and TheMammoth Vs. Alias and Geo Vacton
Author - Russ
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“TNT” by AC/DC filled the arena… The crowd exploded with cheers as out came Geo Vacton and Magick Man. Geo confidently made his way down to the ring, but Magick Man still looked concerned. Geo carefully rolled into the ring, still nursing that banged up shoulder, before he climbed up to the second turnbuckle and held his arms up to the crowd.

“Sympathy For The Devil” by The Rolling Stones

The explosive cheers now began to shake the very foundations of the arena. No, really. Well okay that was a lie… but the ACW faithful still loved this man. Alias ran down the aisle and slid head first into the ring, before heading to the turnbuckle adjacent to where Geo was still propped up. Aaah, nothing like a spring reunion. The crowd responded to these odd heroes with boisterous cheers. And while they do… let’s have a little flashback to what these guys last did as a team, shall we?

**FLASHBACK: February 16th, 2003… Apocalypse**

The crowd exploded soon after as figures began to come from the crowd.

Alias

Geo Vacton

With steel chairs of their own, they came from the other side of the arena, and soon slid into the ring, the first to get it was Osyrus, as he was hit square in the face by Alias. Vacton the followed him up by smashing Dubbs in the back with the chair, and then the head as Alias then got #2 of the night as he whacked Rivers to the ground with 4-5 shots to the body and head.

The arena was buzzing.

**End Scooby Doo FLASHBACK… thank ya, so moving on.**

As fun as old memories of days gone by are, though… what was then, is now quite different. For example.

“A Violent Reaction” by American Head Charge seeped into the arena as the giant known as the Mammoth stepped out into the arena… his partner Marshall was surprisingly not by his side. Still, the literal Mammoth was met with boos by the audience. A slight “Action League!! Action League!! Action League!!” chant was attempted, but the crowd just didn’t have the fuel just yet. Not just yet. The Mammoth stepped over the top rope and cracked his knuckles, sneering towards Geo… evidently having tunnel vision when it came to Alias. Geo grin back towards him… and mouthed ‘Action League’. The massive newcomer would have charged… but he was still 2-on-1 against these two ACW veterans.

'Wake Up' by R.A.T.M.

Speaking of which.

The current World Champion and an ACW Hall of Famer.
Alias and Geo couldn’t help but realize the odd situation that had presented itself, as the crowd reacted to there former defacto ‘leader’ while in the Resistance, with jeers.

The Mammoth climbed the turnbuckle, as SilverHAWK made his way into the ring, and flipped the bird to the crowd, which responded by booing all the more intensely. The referee was still trying to keep Alias and Geo Vacton on there side of the ring. The World Champion slung the belt off of his shoulder and handed it to the referee, pulling said ref away from the face side of things, Hawk shook his head at the crowd’s asinine reaction (so he thought). Geo Vacton, meanwhile, saw an opportunity in the fact that the attention had been taken off of him and intended to take full advantage of it. He ran up to the Mammoth's corner and dropkicked the big man in the back, sending the Mammoth to the outside over the top with a splat.

Alias and SilverHAWK, meanwhile, both grinned before striding methodically across the ring at each other. Alias was the first to move. He hammered SilverHAWK with a series of punches to the face, and then whipped him across to the opposite corner. Completely by accident, Geo Vacton happened to be in the way. Geo saw Hawk coming and reacted quickly, leaping into the air and blasting the World Champion flush in the face with a dropkick. Hawk went down hard, and Geo quickly brought him up. He gestured to Alias, who looked at him – Don’t miss a beat, do ya? - then decided to go along with it and positioned himself. Geo whipped Hawk into the ropes, then leapfrogged him as he came off. SilverHAWK continued running, right into Alias, who took him down and to the mat with a ring-rattling powerslam.

The referee finally forced Geo into his corner, before Mr. Vacton decided to head out towards the ex-Action! Leaguer on the outside. Meanwhile, across the ring the Mammoth had come up to his corner. The bell finally rung, and Alias dropped down to cover Hawk, but Hawk had recovered and grabbed Alias by the head and rolled him up in a small package.

One!

Two!

Alias kicked out at two, and the two quickly got back up. Alias went for a lariat, but SilverHAWK ducked. As Alias turned, Hawk caught him with a stinging left jab, then another. He wound up for a right, but Alias ducked, crouching, then exploded up out of the crouch with that lariat. Down went Hawk. Alias brought Hawk up to his feet and whipped him hard into a corner, then followed him in with a hard back elbow to the jaw. Then Original Pulp Hero then backed up a step and unloaded on Hawk with forearm smashes to the upper chest.

Alias hit three of these before Hawk caught him off-guard with a kick, lashing out to the groin. Alias doubled over, and Hawk drove him to the mat with a double-arm DDT as the crowd stood to there feet and rained down booes. Rather than cover, Hawk rolled to his corner and tagged out to the Mammoth. The Mammoth hit the ring and brought Alias up, then whipped him into the ropes and caught him coming off with a pump kick style of big booting, knocking him to the mat. Firmly in control, the Mammoth brought Kinkade up and shoved him into the corner, then lay into him with stinging, ringing chops that echoed throughout the arena. Fans in the first few rows winced at the deep thud of each chop from the Mammoth’s big meaty hand.

The Mammoth brought Alias out and took him to the ropes, he started mouthing off to Geo and the quick-witted vet lost his head. Geo tried to step into the ring, but only drew the attention of the referee. With this done, the man formely know as the John draped Alias over the top rope and wrapped an arm around his head, pushing down and choking the Pulp Hero on the top rope.

Alias, however, took a page from Hawk, this time hitting a mule kick to the jewels, sending Mammoth stumbling backward. Mammoth staggered around disjointedly, and found himself in perfect position for Alias to hook his neck from behind. Alias then took Mammoth over with a falling neck breaker, hitting it squarely. Grabbing his leg and hooking it in as Alias pulled in for the pin. Hawk remained with the ref, but finally the ref caught the pin out of the corner of his eye and slid over.

One!

Two!

Kickout!

Alias brought Mammoth up to his feet and tagged out to Geo Vacton. Rather than holding Mammoth open, Alias simply left Mammoth up as if to say to Vacton, he's all yours man. Geo hit the ring, and Mammoth immediately sprung forward with a clothline, spinning Geo head-first into the mat. Mammoth bounced off the ropes as Dillon got up, then took him down with a cracking elbowsmash.

With Geo down, Mammoth started to run the ropes again, preparing to get more momentum for another heavy smash to keep his nemesis down, but The Original Pulp Hero reached out a paw and smacked him across the back of the head, sending him stumbling forward. Mammoth turned to jaw with Alias, and it cost him as Geo grabbed him from behind and took him down with a Rocker Dropper, scaling the seven footer before smashing his face into the canvas.

Mammoth was then brought to his feet by Geo, who then blasted him with a forearm shiver, causing Mammoth to stumble back a bit. Geo quickly hooked Mammoth up and took him to the mat with a back suplex. With Mammoth down, Geo came off the ropes and dropped a knee to the throat.

Picking Mammoth back up Geo hit him with a series of punches, staggering the Mammoth… but Mammoth responded with a hard punch of his own before he lifted him up suplex-style. Geo, however, dropped behind Mammoth, latching onto the bigger mans head turning the suplex into something of a modified bulldog. Geo quickly floated over into a cover.

One!

Tw-NO!

Mammoth powered out of the pinning predicament and Geo wasted no time in bringing him back up to his feet. Mammoth reacted by powering Geo towards the ropes, but Geo found some upance in himself and reversed it, sending Mammoth across instead.

BLIND TAG FROM HAWK! Mammoth dropped down as Geo came off the ropes, and Mammoth side stepped his opponent, leading Geo - directly into a thunderous clothesline from SilverHAWK. If Geo hadn’t of ducked that clothline too. The referee, looking to keep order with tonight’s volatile situation, forced Mammoth out of the ring as best he could.

Both men quickly took a step backwards and began to circle one another, each looking for the opening, for the advantage. SilverHAWK struck first, diving forward, and took Geo down, dropping him to the mat first with a double-leg takedown, and then with a bit of an amateur wrestling move that left Carson on his stomach.

Using Geo’s back as a pivot, Hawk rotated around until he was in front of the prone ex- United States Champion and applied a front facelock. Geo, quickly realizing that he couldn’t remain facedown on the mat much longer, having already taken quite a beating in the match, powered up to all fours, but what he didn’t realize was that he was playing directly into Hawk’s plan. Geo continued to push forward, but SilverHAWK suddenly dropped backwards and locked his legs around Geo’s waist, applying a choke sleeper on Vacton that left him with nowhere to go.

The fans leaned forward in anticipation – could this truly be the end of the match already? They sure as hell didn’t want that and let all four participants know just that, as Alias motioned to the fans to keep going waving his arms and stomping the canvas.

GEO!

DY-NO-MITE!

GEO!

DY-NO-MITE!

GEO!

YES! Geo’s head, slick with sweat, managed to slip free from the hold, allowing him to push up and drive his head into Hawk’s which forced SilverHAWK to release his leg scissors as well. Geo immediately got to his feet and hopped on over to his corner, jumping to make the tag and then rolling to the outside to hold his neck.

Alias saw his advantage to get at HAWK once more, with his closest enemy holding his face in pain, and applied a spinning toehold, but when Hawk didn’t tap after nearly a minute in the hold, Alias tried to spin again, only to have Hawk send him stumbling a few feet into the center of the ring, with a boot to the backside. Alias turned and charged, before sliding across the mat with a baseball slide that caught Hawk in the temple just as he rolled to his stomach. Stunned and groggy, Hawk still somehow managed to get to his feet, only to find himself quickly wrapped up for a wrist-clutch exploder suplex by Alias.

Alias, though only in for a short time, tagged off to Geo was more, as the two men that the crowd was adamantly cheering where wisely using their corner. Mammoth, however, was still distraught… reaching and reaching to try to tag out Hawk who was getting beaten in a bad way. Geo stepped back as Alias pulled Hawk up and whipped him into the ropes. The Magik Man’s man and The Original Pulp Hero joined hands and sent Hawk to the mat with a double clothesline. Geo pulled Hawk up quickly and sent him into the ropes once more. A quick glance at Alias, and a double hiptoss later, and SilverHAWK was being dragged up off the mat by the two challengers once more to the cheers from the crowd.

Mammoth stepped into the ring, but immediately the referee was in his face. A quick low blow on Alias and a shove to Geo Vacton followed, and Hawk propelled himself off the ropes and attempted to clothesline both challengers down, but they both ducked the attempt. SilverHAWK flew off the ropes on the other side and WHAM, double superkick!

As Mammoth was finally sent back to the outside of his corner, Hawk rolled outside to take a breather. Alias was right after him, grabbing his shortly cropped hair and then a ear, yes an ear, tugging Hawk back on the apron. However, the ref was now in Alias’s face… looking to send the Original Pulp Hero back to his corner… having already stayed out long enough after the tag. Alias argued back at the ref, diverting his attention away from the man he would face in one week at Revival for the World Heavyweight Champion… only to have it cost him.

Hawk, the master of the breakDOWN, grabbed Alias by the arm and head… and half hip-tossed him, half awkwardly suplexing him to the mat on the outside with a heavy thud. Hawk stood over Alias, on the apron, and began shouting at him, then shouting at the crowd and pointing at Alias. Course Hawk knew how to draw out some negative heat… and garnered said heat. Loads. Moments later, it had cost him. Geo tapped him on the shoulder, from the inside of the ring… as Hawk turned Geo grabbed him by the head the threw him into the squared circle. SH began to get to his feet, a look of shock on his face. Geo from behind with a German Suplex!

One!

Two!

Broken up by the Mammoth! SilverHAWK makes his way to his feet and pushes Mammoth away from Geo and back into there corner. “Let me tag you in, big guy!” Hawk stomps on Geo a few times, then tags back out to Mammoth, who waits for Geo to stagger back to his feet. Wasting no time, he snaps Geo into the air with a suplex. Mammoth keeps a hold of GV’s wrist as they both roll up to a vertical base, then yanks Geo into him with a short arm clothesline. Vacton pops up, he’s running on adrenaline… adrenaline to either get to his corner or just flat-out survive, Mammoth grabs him, wrapping his arms around his waist, going for a belly-to-belly.

It's blocked.

And then it's reversed.

Belly-to-back suplex, with as much force that can be mustered on a man almost a foot taller and twice your weight. Geo goes back to his corner, where Alias is waiting on the top rope. The tag is made, and Alias soars in the air, brings his elbows up, all Bret Hart-esque. Connect! Making sure to hook the leg, he goes for the cover.

One!

Two!

Kickout!

Mammoth kicked out. Alias let him stand up, positioning himself behind the sizable opponent, and grabbed his neck again. He went for an Inverted DDT, but Mammoth rolled through behind him, and wrenched him into the air with a belly-to-back. Back to his feet, he went to tag in his partner, as the crowd started perking up. Just as he was about to tag, Mammoth was bulldogged to the mat by Alias, and dragged back to the corner of Geo’s corner by the leg. He was met there by, of course, Geo Vacton and what happened next had every male in the arena groaning.

Double wishbone.

As the official pointed out to Alias that he needed to exit the ring, Geo headed upstairs, waiting for his prey to regain his footing. When he did, Geo Vacton leapt off the top rope, landing on Mammoth's shoulders, twisted around and flipped him over with a hurricanrana. Though fire evident in his eyes, Geo allowed Mammoth to recover and the two then locked up in the center of the ring, followed quickly by a punch to the stomach of Geo and an added touch with a vertical suplex. Mammoth quickly responds with three hard elbow drops to the heart and a quick pin cover.

One!

Two!

Mammoth quickly picks up Geo Vacton, sending him across the ring and following with a vicious clothesline as Geo returns from springing off the ropes. Mammoth is quick again on the pin, trying to end this contest and give himself momentum heading into Revival.

One...

Two!

THREE!

Wow, that was completely out of nowhere. Completely…

Psst! Kickout at two!

Mammoth once again brings ‘T-N-T’ to his feet and whips him across the ring, coming back into a tilt-a-whirl back breaker, and a few more added elbow drops for good measure. Again he applies a quick pin.

One!

Two!

Kickout!

The Mammoth locks on a sleeper hold attempting to suffocate the master of Geo-cide and win by submission. Though not a submission guy by any means… smothering your opponent with a classic sleeper hold always seems to do the trick. The referee checks on Geo and after a few seconds' raises his hand and drops it to the mat. The Magik Man looks on nervously on the outside as Alias tries to pump up the crowd.

It drops once!

Mammoth could feel the win only moments away as he held his grip tightly on Geo's neck, preventing air from entering his lungs. Magik Man comes closer to the mat and leans forward to look at Vacton. The referee raises Geo's hand for a second time and drops it. With the persistence of Alias, the crowd begins to clap and stomp in unison… hoping to pump some life into Geo.

It drops twice!

Mammoth starts to apply more pressure, while Magik Man raises her hand on the outside and slaps it hard on the mat, along with the crowd and Alias, almost waking Geo Vacton who starts to fight back. Slowly both men work their way to their feet and Geo sends elbow shots to Mammoth's massive mid-section. Now free of the hold, Geo Vacton races towards the ropes but is quickly caught with a thunderous spinebuster.

One!

Two!

Thre-Kickout!

The Mammoth slaps his hands on the mat three times, giving Geo a second to recover, but not for long as Mammoth starts to kick Geo Vacton in the mid-section. He continued to kick Geo until “Dy-No-Mite” swept the legs out from under Mammoth with several hard kicks to the knees from his prone position. Geo started to regain himself and quickly sent a few stiff kicks into Mammoth's knees, raking pain up his legs. Mammoth was slowed down, he was in pain, he was… on his back after bouncing off the mat head first! Tornado DDT!

Finally finding himself in a position to rest, Geo fell to the ground on his ass… just catching a breather. Yells came from either side of the ring towards the men in the center, calls towards there current partners for the tag. Who would make it first? Geo stumbled back to his feat as Mammoth got to one knee, Vacton and the Mammoth hopped, skipped and jumped towards there respective sides. Geo tagged out… Mammoth tagged out.

In came Alias and SilverHAWK.

Well now, this should be fun.

Shotgun clothline from Alias as the two titans clashed. Finding himself with the slightest possible advantage, Alias pulled SilverHAWK back to his feet but Hawk caught him with a rising uppercut that stunned the man who was soon going to challenge for his Championship… yeah, you all know the story now (well atleast sorta ;)) and allowed Hawk to pull Alias into an Irish whip. As Alias rebounded off the ropes, Hawk attempted a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, only to have Alias slip free mid-move and land on his feet. The Pulp Hero applied an inverted front facelock and hoisted the champion up for an inverted suplex, but Hawk showed tremendous agility for a man his age and managed to swing his legs beneath him, which left him in perfect position to reverse the facelock and kneel down, trapping Alias in a dragon sleeper.

Using his free arm, Alias delivered a back elbow smash into Hawk’s ribs, which softened the champion’s grip enough that his ex-Resistance teammate could slip his head free and pull SilverHAWK into an Irish whip. However, Hawk put on the brakes and reversed the whip, sending Alias into the ropes once more. As Alias returned, Hawk ducked low for a back body drop, but Alias kicked him in the chest, standing the ACW legend back up, and then immediately wrapped his arm around Hawk’s torso before driving him headfirst into the mat with a uranage suplex. As both men slowly got to their feet and nodded at each other once more, the crowd roared their approval at the sequence, and the Minnesota crowd was into this clash. Either mans corner putting in there roaring two cents.

Circling Hawk once more, Alias rushed in, looking to catch Hawk with a knee to midsection. And while it was on target, it had also been severely telegraphed, allowing SilverHAWK to catch the offending appendage and use the Pulp Hero’s own momentum to pick the challenger up for a kneebreaker. Alias hopped around, trying to shake the feeling back into his always tender knee, which allowed Hawk ample time to dive forward and plow Alias to the mat with a hard left-handed lariat. As the fans started to boo, Hawk climbed the nearby turnbuckle and leapt off with a Savage-esque leg drop, which sent flashbulbs throughout the arena popping...

...but Alias managed to roll out of the way, and he was back on his feet before Hawk (well YEAH) and pulled the ACW World Heavyweight Champion into a side headlock and used his weight to bear down upon the head of the ACW Hall of Famer. Hawk, showing his underestimated strength, picked Alias up and deposited the World #1 contender on the top turnbuckle. Before Alias had a chance to defend himself, Hawk wrapped his left arm around Alias’s neck and threw his legs out from beneath him, executing a beautifully effective neckbreaker, Alias’s legs still locked into the corner ropes.

Alias then slipped from the turnbuckle and landed hard on his head, further aggravating the damage that the neckbreaker had already done. Meanwhile, Hawk was back on his feet and he went to the opposite corner of the ring… away from Geo and away from the Mammoth… hell this was time for Alias and Hawk to work in some violence before they where given the PPV. Hawk was looking to step outside of his normal repertoire if only for a moment. Charging across the ring from corner to corner, Hawk drove his knee hard into Alias’s side, hard enough to force the media darling pulp hero to gasp for air.

With Alias sufficiently occupied, Hawk grabbed his feet, pulling them out away from the turnbuckle; instinctively, Hawk reached out with his hands and grabbed onto the bottom ropes that bisected the corner. Hawk backed up two more steps, and each time, Alias moved up a set of ropes until his hands were desperately clutching the top rope for all he was worth. With no leeway in sight Hawk let go of Alias’s legs but immediately charged forward with a back elbow. With Alias slumped in the corner Hawk backed away methodically… trying to figure his next direction of attack. Mammoth? Yeah, how about a little bit of big guy before he stretches out some more ass-kicking. Tag in. Mammoth flipped a bird over to Vacton before he lifted a long leg and uses his boot to choke Alias. At the count of four, Mammoth breaks the hold, letting Alias fall out of the corner. Mammoth grabs Alias and lifts him over his head in a gorilla press. Alias, knowing that only certain attacks and moves will work to beat a big man in this situation, shifts his weight and slides off of Mammoth and down his back. Before the big ACW newcomer can react, Alias is down behind him.

Alias grabs Mammoth and takes him to the mat with a schoolboy. Mammoth is caught very off-guard, and as a result, Alias gets a two. As they get up, The Mammoth blasts Alias with a clothesline that sends him flying. Mammoth approaches Alias to do more damage, but sees SilverHAWK in the corner looking for the tag back in. The Mammoth looks at him, weighs his options, then shrugs and tags out to Hawk.

Hawk steps over the top rope into the ring and measures Alias, going for a dropkick. He jumps up, but Alias ducks and pushes up on Hawk’s legs… sending the Champion flipping heels over head to the mat, then, lightning-quick, leaps onto the second rope and leaps back off with a splash, just like that. Alias takes a few moments to recover from the beating doled out by the fresh Mammoth, then goes forward and hooks the leg for the cover.

One!

Two!

Alias brings Hawk to his feet and hooks him by the head, then lifts him up high in the air. He brings the man of ACW down hard with a jackhammer-style suplex, driving him into the mat. Alias holds on, but Hawk kicks out once more at two. Alias brings Hawk up and shoves him into the corner, then begins wailing away on him with punches to the face, pounding his arch-enemy. Finally, Alias grabs Hawk by the head and stomps him into the corner.

A-LI-AS!

A-LI-AS!

A-LI-AS!

Alias brings Hawk up and holds him open, then tags out to Geo Vacton who enters to a big pop. Vacton enters by slingshotting himself over the top rope and hitting a punch to the kidneys that hits SilverHAWK squarely. Hawk stumbles back, and Geo grabs him and whips him into the corner. He backs up into the opposite corner, then rushes across at Hawk. With SilverHAWK set, Geo leaps and plasters him with a spinning heel kick. Hawk stumbles out of the corner, and Geo lands on the apron. Geo then springboards onto the top rope and takes SilverHAWK down with a bulldog. Hawk slowly and methodically gets up as Geo bounces against the ropes for yet another follow up move… the crowd cheering and Alias pumped.

Punch to the back of the head from Mammoth… the former jobber that Geo would be crossing paths with at Revival.

Boo.

Geo turned around, his momentum off the ropes already halted by the punch from the Mammoth.

“Action! Leaguing, bastard…”

The thing is, there was still the matter of SilverHAWK. Hawk spun Geo around to face him, ducking a wild punch that Vacton had thrown on instinct.

breakDOWN

… and you thought that the Minnesota crowd booed loud before.

One!

Two!

Alias jumped into the ring to break up the count… only to be blindsided by the Mammoth.

Three!

And that was that.

Alias was barged out of the ring by Mammoth, but he was quickly back on his feet on the outside, looking into the battlefield.

Shrapnel began to fly in from the fans, who were clearly not happy by the way this night had turned out, and as it all went on, SilverHAWK looked at Alias, Alias looked on at SilverHAWK.

The two men on a different planet to everyone else, but the same to each other.

This short-lived rivalry was going to come to a head at Revival.

One belt, should mean only one champion.

ACW has two.

By Sunday, only one will remain.

WINNER : SilverHAWK and the Mammoth