Thursday, May 6th 2004
Broadcasting LIVE! from Minneapolis, Minnesota at 10/9 p.m. CT
Thursday, May 6th 2004
Broadcasting LIVE!
from Minneapolis, Minnesota at 10/9 p.m. CT
|
A Meeting of Minds
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.
Lights, Cameras, Action!
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. 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. 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.
G'Luck Sunday
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. Kade said nothing. He didn’t notice the man, he just continued walking through the docking area of the building. Scorpion
Title Match 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.
Being
Late Sucks
"You're late!" Prepare For a Shit Storm
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
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?”
Making Action Happen
“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. 
Bantam
Diablo Vs. Ruben Davis
“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. 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
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.
Lets call it at that… shall we?
“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?”
You May Look But You Mustn't Touch
Thud.
Making Action Happen
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.
Television
Title
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. Don’t
know what you’re
expecting of me. Every
step I take is another
mistake to you. 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? Because
every day we're getting
older. WAKE
UP! Yeah,
so tired of waiting... WAKE
UP! Yeah,
so sick of waiting... 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!" 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!" 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
"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!!
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.
Some things are meant to
be
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.
Prone
To Violence?
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
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.
Tag
Team
Match
“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. 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
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