Apologies for the lateness of this piece, however there are some things that even gods such as myself cannot control...ladies and gentleman, the missing Revival match.

And welcome to arc #2

ACW Revival Match
Chris Messiah vs. Quinton May vs. Phil Atken
Author - Chris M
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Merry Christmas. 

This is the moment I’m led to believe that you are all waiting for. 

The thirty-minute ultimate submissions match between three of the greatest ACW wrestlers of all time, plus a whole chicken. I’ll let the ring announcer explain the rules, because that’s always fun.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! It is now time for the thirty-minute ultimate submissions match! The rules of this match are as follows: falls only occur when a competitor submits. The match will continue after a fall, and one the time limit has expired, the competitor with the most number of falls will win the ACW Television Championship. Also, the person who wins the first fall will win the ACW Scorpion Fighting Championship. In the event of a draw, the Television Championship will remain with the current champion.

“Making his way to the ring, from Belfast, Northern Ireland, weighing 229 lbs, Chris Messiah!”

The James Lavelle Instrumental Remix of The Verve’s Bitter Sweet Symphony filled the ears of those fans crammed inside the arena, as the man himself walked through the curtain. Oh look, he had an iPod on. He was probably listening to an up-beat number judging from those slick dancing moves he was putting on as he walked towards the ring. Anything to get yourself up for a match I suppose.

“Next, from Glasgow, Scotland, weighing 220 lbs, he is the reigning ACW Scorpion Fighting Champion, Phil ‘I Know It’s Only Rock and Roll but I like It’ Atken!

And there was Phil, shoving the curtain aside and walking to the ring with a menacing look on his face. Maybe it was his iPod that Chris was still listening to. Break-dancing in the middle of the ring is a little inappropriate, don’t you think, Chris? Phil took of his belt and handed it to the referee, all the while staring at Chris who was now river dancing.

“From Windsor, Ontario, Canada, weighing 218 lbs, he is the reigning ACW Television Champion, Quinton May!”

Make A Move by Lostprophets played, signifying the entrance of Quincy, Quincy Mama, The Survivor of M15, The Canadian Gladiator, The Rising Star, that guy with the weird facial hair.

Quinton was showing his belt off to everybody who was interested, leaving Phil and Chris to wait and wait for the commencement of the match that they had been eagerly awaiting. Quincy, it’s time for you to make a move.

Finally, all three men stood face-to-face in the ring, and the referee called for Taco Bell. The big cock on the wall – what an unfortunate typo – the big clock on the wall of the arena changed from 30:00 to 29:59, and Phil threw a jab at Chris. Chris caught it, and threw it back. Quincy got in on the action, and walloped them both. Messiah stuck his thumb in May’s eye, which staggered the TV champion, but Phil flattened Messiah with a tasty inverted DDT.

Quinton stormed back and decked Atken with a powerful clothesline from Hull, in England. Messiah was up however and jumped onto Quinton’s back, making the TV champ suffer from the painful double ear-pulling of doom and death hold, that has only ever been used previously once in Japan, and in countless households across the world by older brothers on their younger siblings.

Unsurprisingly, May didn’t submit, but instead fell backwards, squashing the challenger to the mat. Phil sprung off the ropes and dropped a leg drop right across Quincy’s throat, which of course caused Quincy’s head to snap back and whack Chris right on the nose.

Phil dragged Quincy up by the hair and snap-suplexed him, while all the fans inside the arena gasped as a woozy Messiah stumbled up to his feet, with blood smeared all over his face. Chris wiped some of it off with his hand and yelped in horror. Then he slid out of the ring and legged it down the aisle, disappearing through the curtain. Atken and May, who had scrambled back to their feet, looked-on in confusion. Atken just shrugged his shoulders and planted Quinton with a heart-punch, then a head butt. A quick leg-sweep put Quinton on his back, and Phil quickly applied a really humiliating hold – Humiliated. Which is, for all you uneducated types (including me), is a reverse figure-four leg-lock.

Phil wrenched down on the hold, as the referee dropped to the canvas to see if Quinton would tap out. Quincy’s hand raised up, but he wouldn’t tap, being the fighter that he is. Noticing this, Phil applied even more pressure, which resulted in Quinton screaming out in pain. Shirley he’d tap out? His right hand raised up off the canvas again, but just as he was about to slap the mat, none other than Chris Messiah slid into the ring and grabbed him by his right wrist. He then sprung up and punched Phil right in the kisser – not that he does any kissing with it. Well, not with any girls. Phil of course released the hold, but before he could retaliate, he noticed something peculiar about Messiah’s demeanour – he had toilet roll stuffed up both nostrils. To stem the blood flow I assume. This moment of wonderment gave Chris all the time he needed to clothesline Phil to the mat, just as the countdown timer reached 24:00.

Chris grabbed Phil by the ankles, trying to worm his way into a Boston crab. Phil struggled against him on the mat, like a fish squirming on the carpet. Eh? Chris then decided to just drop an elbow across Phil’s knee, and twist the leg around into a leg bar. Phil retaliated by punching Chris in his tender area – his nose of course – and Chris naturally let go of the hold.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Quincy was on his knees, rubbing his back. Must have been a very painful hold by Phil or something. Quincy got up and charged at the pair of them, with a view to double-clotheslining them. This was just not meant to be however, as both men ducked. Quincy turned round only to suffer a double-suplex. Instinctively, Phil rolled on top of May to try and go for the pin fall, but Chris stuck the boot in on Phil’s head, and the Glasgow-native grabbed his face in anger.

Phil rose and he and Messiah locked-up, with Chris winning the test of strength and forcing Phil into a side head-lock. Phil picked Chris up though and executed a belly-to-back suplex, which knocked the wind right out of the non-champion. Gasping for air, Chris clutched his side, and Phil went straight back after Quinton. Phil went for a Boston crab of his own, but Quincy scrambled to the ropes and the referee made Phil release his grasp on May’s feet. Phil turned around to protest, but got a face-full of forearm from; you guessed it, Tony Blair. Tony, I mean Messiah, nailed Atken with a beautiful DDT, which was followed up by a quick leg drop right across Phil’s face.

Messiah wiped some blood away from his nose as he pulled Atken back to his feet, just as the countdown timer passed the 19:00 mark. He tried inserting his right knee into Phil’s small intestine with a coccyx-shattering atomic drop, and then Chris applied a cross-face chicken-wing.

Phil screamed as always in pain as Chris clamped down on the hold, only for it to be broken up by Quinton May with a low-blow on Chris’ Emerald jewels. As Chris folded over on the mat, clutching his pained nether-regions, May took it upon himself to try his own chicken-wing, but Atken wasn’t as dumb as Messiah looks, and ducked out of the hold, applying a hammer-lock. Phil tried twisting May’s arm right off, and so didn’t notice Messiah rising to the top rope. Messiah called out Phil’s name, and when the Scotsman turned to see what all the commotion was about, both he and May got taken out with a double flying clothesline, which left all three men on the mat in disarray.

The clock reached 15:00 as Messiah stumbled to his feet and pulled Atken up to a kneeling position. Phil was too groggy to guess what was happening as Messiah applied an eyeball-bulging inverted cross-face chicken-wing which left Atken only one option: to squeal like the sissy girl he is in submission.

So I guess that means Chris is the Scorpion Fighting champion thus far. He didn’t seem too over-joyed about it however, as the referee told him to release the hold.

Messiah 1, May 0, Atken 0.

Chris released the hold but went straight back in again for it. May however had gained his wits and dragged himself across the mat, in the perfect position to pull at Chris’ foot and send him toppling over. An enraged new Scorpion Fighting champion rose to his feet and turned around to see May charging at him with a spear, which sent both men to the outside.

They tumbled to the mats but were aiming punches at each other all the while. Phil Atken stretched his arm in the ring and watched the action unfold before his eyes at ring-side, as his two opponents battled to and fro. Chris slammed May’s head down on the guard rail, which left the current TV champion in a daze. Turning his attention back to Phil in the ring, Chris received a baseball slide to the face from the former. Phil slid out under the bottom rope and dragged Chris around to the announce table, slamming his head on objects as they went. He even took turns at slamming his face on both title belts as they sat on the time-keepers table waiting to be claimed. Then Phil rolled Chris on to the announce table and turned his attention to the top rope. We all know where this is going. Phil mounted the top turnbuckle and paused momentarily to gaze around the arena. Then he leapt off with about as much grace as Janet Jackson singing during the Superbowl half-time show, and crashed first through Messiah’s prone body, and then through the announce table.

Meanwhile, still back at the ranch, Quincy had regained his marbles again, and staggered around towards Ground Zero. What he saw there was most interesting to him. Not only did Messiah seem to be out-cold, but Phil Atken had knocked himself loopy too.

And so, at 10:00, Quincy picked up Messiah and rolled him into the ring. He dropped a knee to the head, just to make sure he wasn’t playing possum, and then proceeded to successfully put on a Boston crab. Messiah was unconscious of course, so couldn’t have tapped out if he had wanted to. Not that he would have wanted to I’m sure. Anyway, seeing that Messiah was away with the fairies, the referee called for the bell to signify the second fall of the match, this time for Quincy.

May 1, Messiah 1, Atken 0.

As Quinton continued to shake the cobwebs away, Phil Atken’s head popped up and he looked around at the sight before him. Not again, he wasn’t in the aftermath of a Glasgow Rangers vs. Glasgow Celtic football match riot was he? The roar of the crowd as May picked Messiah up and slapped him around the face brought Phil back to reality, and immediately the Scot felt his second wind as he noticed the scoreboard beside the countdown timer read that he was currently trailing both of his foes.

He picked himself up and dusted himself down, then somehow walked to the ring apron and pulled himself into the ring. Messiah had come to and May was putting the hurt on him by stomping a mud hole in him in the corner. Atken quietly snuck up behind Quincy and slapped on a sleeper hold, much to Messiah’s relief. Nobody ever wins with sleeper holds, so Chris could take a breather.

May had other ideas however, and somehow using more upper body strength than a trained panda, he snapmared Phil right over him and to the mat. Quincy had equalised the scores between himself and Messiah, and he was filled with renewed energy because of it. Quincy picked Atken up and decided that a pile driver was due, so he set Phil up for one. However, simultaneously, Phil blocked the move and held on to Quinton’s legs, meaning he couldn’t move or break the hold. And Chris decided it was time to get up off his arse, and he ran up Phil’s doubled-over back and kneed May right in the mush. Phil released his grip on Quincy’s legs when Chris ran up his back, and May collapsed like a tree.

Phil was shocked more than injured, and charged at Messiah in fury. Messiah wasn’t expecting that, so couldn’t defend himself when Phil got stuck into him with a barrage of punches, knees, and kicks, then sent Chris to the mat clutching his gut.

Phil then turned his attention to May. He picked him up, and flattened him with a swinging neck breaker. A back breaker followed, and then to cap off these two moves of doom, he applied Humiliation for the second time in the match to Quinton May.

Quinton was exhausted. But he wasn’t about to go down with a fight. He crawled towards the ropes, inch by inch. Could he make it? We’ll find out, after the commercial break! Only joking. So, inch by inch, Quincy err, inched closer to the ropes. Messiah was still down and out in the corner, looking like he had eaten too much pie for lunch.

Was Quincy going to get there? Of course he wasn’t. Just as he got close enough to reach out a hand to touch the bottom rope, Phil waddled away into the centre of the ring, and the ropes that were right there a second ago were now half the ring away. Quincy tried hanging on, but just couldn’t do it.

Atken 1, May 1, Messiah 1.

With 4:00 left on the clock, the scores were level. Quincy collapsed to the mat clutching his back. Messiah pulled himself up on the ropes, clutching his gut. And Phil Atken clutched his groinal area in a gesture of vulgarity. Who should he go for to win the match? Both men were there for the taking. Eeny, meany, miney, moe. Messiah. Phil dandered over to the Irishman, who surprised Phil with a boot to the ballcock. Chris then hit him with another DDT, and proceeded to go for a camel clutch. Phil waved his arms about and managed to get to the ropes to break the hold. A bit of chain wrestling happened next, as the pair of them exchanged side head locks, arm bars, hammer locks, and telephone numbers.

2:00

The two of them were still battling away, as May picked himself up and regained his bearings. He glanced at the clock. If the scores were level at the end of the match, he would be the winner. Noticing that Atken and Messiah were pounding the crap out of each other on the other side of the ring, he put his head back down and feigned unconsciousness.

Atken was spent. The blood and sweat was dripping from Messiah. Atken threw a forearm at Chris, but he ducked and nailed a Manhattan drop. A double-under hook suplex was next, levelling Atken out on his back. Chris went up to the second rope, and dropped an elbow across Atken’s chest. A side Russian leg-sweep was next on the list, level Atken gasping for breath on the mat. Chris had one move left in the armoury, one May didn’t execute earlier: the pile driver. He bent Phil over, picked him up, and dropped him on his skull. Atken was finished. His eyes closed over and he slipped out of consciousness.

Chris glanced at the clock. There was but a minute of time left. And here he was, with two defeated opponents at his mercy. Wouldn’t it be even sweater for Chris to win the TV title by making the current champion tap-out in the process? Lovely.

Chris began to stalk May, but then quickened up the pace when he remembered time was at a premium. He rolled Quincy onto his back and went to apply the hold he was so good at. But Quincy was awake, and fought against Chris’ wishes to apply the deadliest of submission holds. But a stiff boot to the mid-section was enough to take the fight out of the dog, and a two seconds, the deed was done.

REALITY CHECK

Would the exhausted Quinton tap out? Could he hold on?

0:30

The fans roared as Quinton hung in there, as the referee was in May’s face, asking if he gave up…

0:25

Quincy screamed in agony as Messiah pulled back on the hold, increasing the pain exponentially…

0:20

His hand lifted off the mat, surely he was going to quit?

0:15

Quincy obviously knew the ropes were just too far away. A close-up showed him as his eyes rolled up into his skull, the pain just too much…

0:10

The fans started counting down with the clock, as Quincy raised his hand slowly, as he finally gave in and wanted the pain to just stop. He just wanted to tap out and this excruciating torture be over with…

0:05

As Quincy began to bring his hand down to tap out…

WHACK!

…Chris Messiah crumbled in a heap to the mat, his jaw stinging from the powerful super kick that had been delivered by Phil Atken.

0:00

The bell rang as the crowd silently gazed on. Who had won? Had Quincy tapped out? Was Messiah the new Television Champion? The referee was about to answer all three questions, and maybe some other ones.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of this contest… and STILL the ACW Television Champion, Quinton May!!!”

The crowd roared in approval. Quincy had done it. Messiah sat slumped in the corner of the ring, staring at Atken who stood over Quinton, staring at them both.

Quinton had retained the TV title, but barely. Had Atken not broke the hold, May would have tapped out with a couple of seconds to spare, leaving Chris the TV champion. But it wasn’t to be.

Atken rolled out of the ring, with a smirk on his face. Tonight wasn’t his day, but he’d get his revenge. He’d get his title back. The referee brought both the Scorpion Fighting championship and the Television championship into the ring, first handing a groggy May what was rightfully his, then holding out the Scorpion title to Chris. Messiah took no notice however, his thoughts elsewhere. He slowly rolled out of the ring and walked very slowly backstage. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to end. He was supposed to be the TV champion. Atken had ruined it all. 

"Any expectations of how this is going to go?"

Laguna gave Hillary Duncan a small smile as he kept moving towards the arena entrance.

"Expectations? For this idea? No chance."

William Laguna was a man of chance, but never luck. If he believed something would work or be beneficial, it was more than likely that he would give it a try, once.

Not five times.

"You know that a lot of the dirt sheets are saying you should be pleading insanity for this idea don't you William? C'mon, what can a wrestler really do to a show to make it better viewing?"

Laguna opened the backstage entrance for his lady companion, as the hustle and bustle of the ACW backstage began a more visible, and audible.

"There is a thin line between insanity and genius Hillary, and I hope tonight will push me in one direction, so I can either cut this idea or keep it rolling, but for once...I'm excited to see what happens."

It was something that he wasn't used to since taking over in April, he didn't know what was going to happen in the show, he didn't care, because tonight he was like anyone of those guys and gals who bought their ticket, he was a fan.

They came to a crossroads.

"Well I guess this is it for tonight then William?"

Laguna looked on at the VIP box, as Duncan looked on at Messiah's makeshift office for the night.

"Have fun."

Who could believe the events of the previous weekend? William Laguna had certainly come up trumps on his latest decision. It was thanks to his wonderful visionary visions that the ACW fans could be treated to somebody like Chris Messiah being in charge of the show for the evening. And wasn’t that Chris sitting behind a desk in an office, rubbing his eyebrows, feeling his upper lip and scratching behind his ear? It most certainly was! And didn’t he look a little confused? What’s new?

He turned his attention to something on his desk. It was some sort of device built-in to the desktop, with buttons etc. Chris pressed one of the buttons and a crackling noise emulated from a speaker.

“Uh, could you please come in here for a moment?”

“Yes Sir” came the reply, through the wall.

Chris sat back in his chair and waited. A moment later, and the door to the office swung open, and in walked none other than “The Biggest Joke” Joe Soap. I know that only about three people in ACW knows who Joe Soap is (and I’m two of them), but this is my show and I’ll write what amuses me.

“How are you enjoying your new job, Joe?”

“Everybody is giving me odd looks and the desk is rather small, but so far so good.”

No wonder he was complaining about his desk. It was placed outside the office door in the corridor, and was a school desk made for children about ten years old by the looks of it. The two of them got into conversing again. Basically, the two of them hadn’t spoken since their road-trip across the country to drum-up support for Chris’ thReat International Title Tournament challenge, in a rented tour bus the previous summer. Once thReat folded, Joe returned to Cleveland, which is exactly where he had remained until Job Finder informed in of a vacancy at a Burger King. Oddly enough, it was Chris’ old job which he had recently been fired from thanks to Phil Atken. Joe had overheard Chris’ name being mentioned by a worker at his new job, and found out about Chris’ part-time job, i.e. the one in ACW. He called Chris up, yadda, yadda, and so on.

Okay, so I’ll stop boring the pants off you all now. I was just setting the scene.

Chris Messiah was busy in William Laguna’s office, making the last minute changes that always had to be made even while Courage was in progress. He was finding it increasingly faster that it wasn’t easy running a show… and he was giving major props to Laguna for running the shows so smoothly up to this point.

There came a knock at the door… which was certainly not something Messiah wanted to hear.

“Yes?” He asked, looking over his desk.

The door opened and Chris’ secretary came into the room. “Sir, there’s someone here to see you… He says his name is… Uh… Magick Man…”

“Send him in.”

The door opened, and in came Magick Man. There would have been a pop from the crowd, but this was all off camera.

“Heeey there, buddy.” Magick said, touching Laguna’s desk.

Messiah looked up. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

“Ooh, nothing. How’s the show coming along?”

Messiah shrugged. “It’s ok.”

“That’s good to hear…”

“Yeah. So what do you want?”

Magick’s eye brows raised, he was trying to be casual but Messiah was basically choking it out of him. Or saying exactly what everyone else is probably thinking.

“Hmm… Well, I actually wanted to talk to you about the main event.”

Chris nodded and reached for a sheet of paper. “Yeeeaah… Lemme see… Ok, Geo Vacton VS Phoenix Rose VS Marshall VS The Mammoth. Fatal Four Way. All four men have checked in in one way or another… Got a referee… Yeah, that match’s set.”

Magick shuck his head. “Yeah, I know about all that… But I had something of a suggestion… Not even. More like, a favorable… Emm… An idea.”

Messiah’s eye’s widened. “Oh? What?”

Magick grinned and stepped away from the desk. “Well, this whole having wrestlers run the show in hopes for a shot at the title seems a little bit crazy, but it’s happening. The fans are going to vote. This isn’t scripted… So you gotta look good. And I mean don’t get me wrong; we got ourselves a GREAT main event for tonight. But what would you say if I said we could make this better? Bigger? Make it something the fans will remember when it comes time to vote…”

Messiah looked intrigued. He had been almost ignoring Magick Man up until this point, but now he was starting listen. This was a world title shot we were talking about after all.

“I’m listening…”

“Well, what if we brought something back from the dead. Something the fans have been missing… Something that hasn’t been dealt with, but will eventually have to be.” Magick cleared his throat.

“Like what?”

“Like the currently Vacated United States Championship.”

The bomb was dropped.

Messiah bit his lip. Magick grinned.

It was a good idea. A damn good idea.

“Hmm…” Messiah thought for a while.

“Think about it, Chris. This is huge. You’ll be the one who brought a title back from the dead! You’ll be a hero! You’ll be remembered for as long as anyone can remember! And let’s face it… This is something too big to pass up. And if you do pass it up… Well, you’ll just be giving the ball to someone else. ‘Cos lemme tell ya, if you don’t put that title up tonight… The next person is line will. And when it comes down to the vote… Do you honestly not wanna have this in your favor? This is the opportunity of a lifetime… You’ll never get a chance like this again. Ever!” Magick spoke fast and furiously. He was pitching his idea, and it was selling.

Messiah’s eyes widened. He thought about everything Magick said, and he realized just how much truth was in his words.

“…The belt is here you know. The winner of the match would walk out of here the champion, with an actual title around his waist. And think about how that’s gonna look on television… One of you guys holding up a championship belt. A fresh, new championship belt.” Magick rubbed his hands together. “Why… it’ll be Magic.”

Finally, Messiah nodded. “Ok, ok. I like it. Hell, I won’t even lie… I love it. Let’s do it. In fact, it’s set. Tonight’s main event is for the previously vacated United States Championship!”

Magick grinned from ear to ear. “Woo! Now you sir are most certainly deserving of a title shot!!”

Messiah smiled. “Thank you, thank you. You inspired me!”

Magick smiled back. “Yes, sir. Well, I’m sure you have a lot of work to do… And I suppose an announcement like this will have to be made, and I think I’ll be just the man to do it. I’ll be sure to give you full credit, of course.”

Messiah nodded. “Thanks. Have a good night.”

“And to you the same.”

And with that, Magick left Laguna’s vacated office.

He had now secured Geo a shot at his former title…

But he also gave one to Rose, Marshall, and the Mammoth.

Could this come back to shoot him in the face?

He had been in the arena for over an hour, but nobody knew.

He didn't want anyone to know.

Sitting in a makeshift lockeroom, he rested his head against the ball behind him, feeling the harsh surface with his hand beside him. 

He didn't know how he was going to get through the night.

But he was going to, even if it killed him.

He had given so much to this company, and received his due in return.

But he didn't want this.

"Give me a broken leg any day, I fucking hate these rips and tears."

An old quote of his, that had been running through his head since Sunday.

He prayed for a break.

He prayed for help.

A blind man is helpless.

Especially one who has seen the world with his own two eyes.

KNOCK KNOCK!

"Who's there?"

"Phil!"

"Phil McCracken?"

"No, Phil Atken."

“Come in!”

Oh look who it is, it’s the former Scorpion Fighting Champion, Phil Atken, being led into Chris Messiah’s office by Joe Soap.

“Chris, give me a re-match right now, you crunt.”

“Crunt? Trying to tone-down the profanity, Phil? The PTC after you or something?”

“Chris, stop pretending you know what you’re talking about, just because you read Foley Is Good. You know fine rightly what I’m here for. I want a shot at my Scorpion title.”

“Well Phil, I didn’t know you cared so much. Let me check my dairy to see if I have a vacancy.”

Chris opened the bottom drawer in his desk, and looked at a bottle of milk sitting in there. Then he closed it again and returned his gaze to Phil.

“What?” was all Phil could say.

“It looks as though I’m fully booked for the next six weeks. It’s like a Greek tragedy, except neither of us is a Greek. BUT! I have a solution.”

Chris opened the bottom drawer of his desk again, and once again looked at the milk.

“Why do you doing that?” asked Phil.

“I just like the look of it. Any old excuse will do. Now, back to the subject of this ‘re-match.’ I have a date in mind. Her name is Martha. Lovely girl. Now all I have to do is ask her out, and if she agrees, then it’s a date. What were we talking about?”

“Stop stalling, ‘Messiah,’ and give me what I want!”

“You want the milk?” asked Chris; his right hand going to the drawer handle again.

“NO! I want a match for the Scorpion title! Right here, right now, tonight!”

“And I want an autograph!” shouted Joe Soap.

“I think I have a way out of this whole debacle, Phil,” said the ever-intelligent Chris. “Here goes: you sign an autograph for my dear boy Joe here, and I’ll give you a rematch.”

“Okay, deal. Joe, what do you want me to sign?”

“I suppose my right buttock is out of the question?”

“@~£#er!”

“What? Sorry, I couldn’t understand what you said there. However, would you be interested in signing this piece of paper?”

Joe handed the sheet of paper to Phil.

“What is this, a contract?” asked an impatient Philip.

“Err, no! I just don’t have any blank paper. Just sign your name, preferably on the dotted line there where I’ve placed an ‘x.’ Date it as well, if you would.”

So Phil did. Unbelievably stupid. Yes, unbelievably, because it’s not very believable.

“Okay Chris, now give me my match right now!”

“I didn’t promise you a match right now. I just promised you a match. You’ll notice this for yourself if you scroll up a few lines. However, Phil. I promised you a re-match, so a re-match I will give you. On July 1st, I’ll give you a shot. At Glory. What a night it will be. Oh yes. Muha. Muhaha. Muhahahahahaha!”

“What are you laughing like that?”

“I don’t know, I’ve just always wanted to. Okay Phil, you’ve got what you wanted, sort of. Now get out of my office, I have important matters to attend to with my secretary.”

So Phil growled at Chris, accepted that he had his re-match, even if it was immediate, and left the office. But, just as he was about to close the door, Chris shouted over to him.

“Oh yes Phil, in case you hadn’t noticed, you’re the next match. Have fun!”

The door was nearly taken off its hinges as Phil slammed it shut. Chris turned to Joe, with a devious look on his face.

“Joe, did he sign it?”

“Yes!”

“He did! Hooray for Zoidberg!”

Chris then took the “autograph” from Joe, and took a pen out of his pocket, and scribbled his own “autography” down beside Phil’s. Strange. 

El Gato Negro Vs. DarkStar
Author - Gavin
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The ACWtron flickered into being, as it did 'Tira Me A Las Aranas' by The Mars Volta brought the crowd to their feet. Out from the entrance way came someone none of them recognized, a new comer to not only ACW, but to the shores of the United States. 

The name on the big screen read 'El Gato Negro'.

The crowd reacted in the way they thought to react, luke-warm. They weren't giving him nearly as much respect as he thought they deserved.

El Gato Negro hopped into the ring and held his arms out to the fans, a few cheered, the rest just looked on. They waited for the entrance of his opponent, and expected another new comer they would be unfamiliar with.

A blue heart began to beat on the screen, and a small section of fans cheered, 6 times it lub dubbed, and when it stopped, the speakers nearly burst.

"I SMELL THAT WHORE!"

And DarkStar made his way out from the back, with his beautiful wife Talena by his side. His first real appearance in the wrestling world in nearly four months. The crowd gave him alot more respect then he thought he deserved.

The Vision that Bears the Gift entered the ring and waited for The Escape Artist to make his move.

The bell rang...

And El Gato Negro pounced.

EGN threw a fury of punches at DarkStar, there wasn't much behind them but it was enough to get the Dream Lord on his heels. The ref began the mandatory five count, but only got to 3 as DarkStar exploded with a clothesline. He began to lay boots into the side of EGN, stopping only to kick him right in the head.

The crowd ate it up, and he backed up a few steps. EGN clawed to his feet and before DS could react had him on the mat in a Wakigatami Armbar. DS rolled out of it, and was met with a dropkick, he bounced into the ropes and EGN ran at him, DS stepped out of the way and leaped on EGN's shoulders, he fell backwards and landed a reverse rana, EGN was back on the ground.

DS rebounded off the ropes and did a cartwheel, and before he reached the prone body of EGN, he tucked into a backflip.

The showboating for the splash was a bit much though, and he was greated with the Black Cats knees in his lower back. As DS clutched his back in pain, El Gato Negro sprung to his feet and sinched in a standing surfboard. DS yelled but refused to tap out.

DarkStar doesn't tap out.

He powered out of it and got one arm free, DS held the arm tight.. he climbed up the top rope and perched himself on the top rope, leaping off he released EGN's arm and flipped himself in mid-air, taking El Gato Negros head and DDTing it hard into the mat. EGN flopped around in pain as the crowd cheered for DarkStars pretty (but quite unnecesary) acrobatic display in the ring.

And now he signaled for the Pressure Drop. A move that hasn't been seen for quite a while. EGN got up to his feet and made the mistake of putting his back towards DS. DS sinched in the Full Nelson, but El Gato Negro would not allow it.

He fought until he DS into the corner once...

Twice...

Three times...

Four tims...

And on the fifth time, DarkStar finally let go, and in his daze walked straight into a crossface chicken wing. DS was in pain, and he might have tapped...

If the ref wasn't behind him when EGN crushed him into the corner. El Gato Negro let go of the hold and looked at the downed referee before hitting the mat in anger. He had the match won, but his overzealousness to get out of the Pressure Drop had the ref outcold.

El Gato Negro leaped down and out of the ring, threw some ring technician off of their chair, and folded it up. He slid it into the ring, DS still on the mat... and lifted the chair to bring a few crushing blows and steal the win, but his foot was taken out from under him and he dropped to one knee. Talena had tripped him up, EGN was about to turn around and go after her when DarkStar got up, with lightning quickness he ran and jumped off of El Gato Negros bent knee, crushing him in the face with A SHINING WIZARD~!!!

EGN was down and on his back, the ref finally showing signs of stirring. The crowd was redhot and DS leaped to the top rope, he raised his arms and jumped, he rotated as if going for a Shooting Star Press. 

He hit the move...

On a steel chair.

El Gato Negro lifted the chair up and put it out for DarkStar to crash his head against. DS was out.

EGN threw the chair from the ring and lowered to DS, he put him in the Strangle Hold ALPHA.

DS was out, he didn't move.

The ref was up now, and in the never-ending wrestling moment.. lifted DarkStars arm three times... and three times it fell.

The bell rang, and El Gato Negro was victorious.

For DarkStar, the losing streak continued.

But he didn't tap out.

He never taps. 

Oh look, there’s Chris Messiah and his long time friend, first time secretary, Joe Soap, in Chris’ office. Playing a game of cards it seems, why not.

The pair of them were sitting on either side of the desk, with all Chris’ important paper documents shoved to one side. A lot was riding on this game it seemed, because there were at least twenty bills sitting in a pile between the two players. Sitting beside that pile, was three socks, a shoe, a broken Casio digital wristwatch, a belt, and a dirty pair of tighty-whiteys. Joe is poor, you know.

“Okay, this is a big hand, Joe. I’m going to raise you again by the same amount.”

“Awww Chris, but this t-shirt was a present from my mom who got it from the t-shirt gun guy.”

“Are you in, or are you out?”

A disappointed Joe grudgingly removed his t-shirt. He was in.

“Okay, here we go…”

The pair of them quickly started placing cards down, one after the other, into a pile in the centre of the desk. Suddenly, it was all over, as Joe’s shrill voice echoed around the room, narrowly followed by Chris’.

“SNAP!”

“SNAP… awww crap.”

Joe jumped up from the table exhilarated. This was one of the best nights of his life.

“Yes! Twenty dollars! I can finally buy that inflatable Barney the Dinosaur chair I always wanted!”

Chris was upset. That was twenty dollars he’d never see again. Not until he got paid at the end of the week anyway. Then, a bright idea appeared inside his “incredible” mind.

“Hungry?”

Joe’s eyes lit up instantly.

“Sure!”

“What do you want? Pizza?” quizzed Chris.

“Two meals in one week?”

“Excellent. Give Dominos a call and order a regular cheese pizza with extra potatoes.”

“Potatoes?”

“Sure. That’s all I eat according to stereotypical Americans who think the entire Irish food and drink diet is Potatoes and Guinness. You can order yourself whatever you want, but cancel the potatoes. I was just making a point to these people.”

Joe scanned the room, seeing no one. Then he remembered that this was a wrestling show and magically everybody in the arena were always able to see what was going on backstage during secret conversations such as this one. He left the room and Chris sat back in his chair, collecting his “thoughts.”

Joe soon returned from his “office” outside Chris’ office.

“Okay, so I rang Dominos. And guess what! I have a GREAT idea for a game we can play while we wait! I’m feeling lucky!”

“You’re feeling lucky? You’re not wearing any clothes. Get dressed quickly before somebody comes in here and thinks we’re… you know.”

“Nudists?” 

Warning: The following segment contains extreme obesity, viewer discretion is advised. They say the camera adds ten pounds… you will wonder how many cameras are actually on her.

--- 

“Who the hell are you?” Simian Kade yelped out in surprise. 

“Hey sexy. I’m Big Bertha?” The rather large woman called out, from what appeared to be two chins. 

She stood over top of Simian Kade who was sitting on a steel folding chair backstage taking in the action of ACW’s Courage.

“Hey, I know you. I’ve got you in my golf bag,” Kade said nervously as the 250+ pound woman stood before him. 

“You’re funny, boy-o,” she said, licking her lips. Kade looked on with a slack-jaw, and what one would hope to god to be a flaccid penis. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“What kind of a sick joke is this, who sent you here?” Kade called out. He pressed back as hard as he could in the steel chair, trying to escape. But whatever way he turned he saw her. 

“I’m a friend of Becky’s,” Bertha said with a sadistic smile on her face. “And this ain’t no joke.”

Kade rolled his eyes; so this is what it was about. The final stab into the heart of Simian Kade. One final thing to assure him that she was really gone. 

“She’s gone Steven,” Bertha said, trying to climb onto his lap. “But, I’m here for you, come lick on me. I can be your lollypop.” 

“Oh dear God!” Kade screamed, pulling away right before she was able to sit down. She fell hard onto the floor, as Kade got to his feet and jumped away from the enormously obese woman. “I think I’m gonna be sick!” 

Kade turned and began to sprint down the hallway, presumably to throw up. 

Bertha looked on with a tear in her eye, as once again she had been rejected by what she deemed an inferior person. Ha. Yeah right. 

As she sat on the ground, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned, however her enormously large body blocked the camera shot.

Ah shucks. 

No matter, lets just say the rest of the night involved candle light, whipped cream, and hot sex. 

With whom, you ask? Well, lets just presume it was Chris Messiah’s secretary, “The Biggest Joke” Joe Soap. But, I won’t make any promises. 

DarkStar had a reason to be pissed off as he sat on a bench in his locker-room, running his debut through his mind time and time again. Aside from the popping of his digits, no sounds were audible.

Wait, I take that back.

The door swung open, and El Gato Negro, along with twenty others yelled: “SURPRISE~!”

Confetti was shot from a bazooka, and the crowd broke out into song as a table with a giant cake and other snacks fit for a party was moved into the room.

“FOR HE’S A JOLLY GOOD FELLLLOW, FOR HE’S A JOLLY GOOD FELLLLLLLOW, FOR HE’S A JOLLY GOOD FELLLLLOOOOOOOW…. THAT NOBODY CAN DENY!”

DarkStar looked on in complete and utter confusion, “What…inthefuck?”

El Gato Negro grinned and spoke with a think Hispanic accent, “I knowed you’d a liked it mang. I know these things mang. When I seen you in the rang, I knowed. I said, ‘That chico right there, he’s a party animal mang.’ I thought I’d thrown you a party chico.”

DarkStar frowned, “What the hell is this ‘party’ crap, you asshole? You ruined our match, what the hell could we be celebrating?”

“Today’s a glorious day mang,” EGN said, taking a piece of the submarine sandwich from the giant sub on the table. “Today is a glorious day. Today…”

He took a bite. 

“Today, is DarkStar got his ass keeked by EL GATO NEEEEGRO~! …day. And lemme tell you somethin’ mang, that DarkStar guy. He got his ass WHOOPED~! chico. But who could blame ‘im mang? I mean, look at me mang. I’m better handsome than he is, I wrestle better than he is, and a better love machine, too. I gots it—”

Five knuckles interrupted him, and met him at the jaw. You see, during that entire paragraph, DarkStar’s rage was building up inside and he channeled it all into one flying fist—clearly evident by El Gato Negro flying halfway across the damn room. Shortly after that, it was more than just EGN. That’s right, DarkStar rampaged like you’d hardly ever see these days, and took out everyone there for the party. The fans, the security crew—all were at DarkStar’s wrath.

And all fell.

Before DarkStar left his locker-room, though, he cut himself a piece of the cake.

Hooray! It was now time for the one person everybody wanted to be but nobody would admit it to show his face to the live crowd. No, not Prince.

Bitter Sweet Symphony (James Lavelle Remix) signaled the entrance of the one, the only, Chris Messiah. The crowd however didn’t take too kindly to him, as ever. So he simply walked quickly down to the ring, carrying in his hands nothing less than a briefcase, and a microphone.

“Okay, so when I arrived here tonight, some bozo knocked on my office door and handed me this thing. Apparently I won it on Sunday at Revival. Well it’s news to me. I always said I had no interest in fighting, because the way I see it, people who fight instead of wrestle do so because they’re not very good at wrestling. Why beat a man by punching and kicking him when you can use any one of hundreds of wrestling moves to inflict pain and suffering? It just doesn’t make sense. But what does is what I’ve got planned.”

Chris knelt down and flicked open the locks of the briefcase then pushed it open.

“I have no time for the Scorpion Fighting championship. I’m going to sell this on e-bay!”

With that, he pulled out something that the ACW fans had seen once before – the thReat International Championship.

“In a crazy and ironic twist, since I have the power to do anything I like tonight, I’m going to do just that – anything. The Scorpion Fighting championship belt is going to stay locked in this briefcase. I’m going to bring this thReat International championship to Courage each week and defend it – something I didn’t get to do in thReat. I didn’t fight long and hard in thReat to become the big-name star to have it all taken away from me just as I achieved it because somebody couldn’t balance the books. And when I finally get defeated for it, which isn’t going to happen, well then the new champion can do whatever the hell he likes with the Scorpion Fighting championship, because he isn’t getting this beauty.”

Chris strapped the championship around his waist and faced the hard camera, smiling cheesily at it. Ohhh, that’ll make the front cover of ACW’s monthly magazine for sure.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some very important business to attend to in my office. Pizza doesn’t eat itself.”

He paused for a moment to close the lid of the briefcase, then quickly got out of the ring and briskly walked backstage.

There was no explosions.

No pyro.

Not even a theme song.

But as he made his way from the curtain, and stood at the frame of the entrance, he heard the biggest cheer in his career, and that had to be something special to accomplish. A microphone in his hand, he raised it to his mouth.

"Wow, they say your other senses get sharper when you lose one, but I sure as hell didn't expect that."

But suddenly they simmered down...and HAWK knew why.

"You didn't think the rumours were true did you?"

The arena was now silenced, as if mourning a death.

"Well they are true, I'm afraid that due to the match at Revival, I have lost my sight, temporarily."

Hope.

"I say temporarily because I could get it back at any second, or I could never see again, it's really that inconclusive. However, with every minute of my life I pray even more, just to be able to witness what I have seen before in my life, even for a second."

The fans who had pent up so much emotion for him for so long, now were hooked on his ever word, in a true sign of respect, and possible of worry, and grief. As HAWK continued, his lazy gaze was pointed at everyone, but nobody in particular, as he stood in a single spot on the top of the ramp, afraid to move.

"Being a professional wrestler comes with some hazards, and I'm sure that you are all very aware of the problems that come with entertaining you guys for so long. It can range from neck problems, to messed up knees to blowing all sorts of muscles out, some that you probably didn't even know that you had, but they still give you the worst pain imaginable, but they are still better than this.

Give me a broken leg any day...

But, that doesn't mean that I regret stepping into that ring on Sunday, or any other night. We do this because it's all we know how to do. I've been a wrestler since I was 15, taking on men at the carnival and pinning their asses before they could take their watches off, it's in my blood...and it still is. Are you guys still here?"

A pop from the crowd.

"Good."

He still controlled them...

"Tonight, I came here for three reasons, the first of which I've already done, which is update you on what's going on, the second, is to speak to Alias. Chris, I know you are in the arena somewhere, and I know that you are probably as down as I am...but don't be. 

You won. 

End of story.

Every one of you fans who were against me as champion proved you were right, because Chris was the true Champion of ACW, and it seems he's been plying his trade in other places also, to become a multi promotion champion, which is something you will rarely see these days. So keep in mind when you are watching your champion just who he is, because in my opinion, he's the greatest ACW champion of all time."

A cheer of respect.

"The third reason? Laguna's plan to have superstars running the show...I'm in"

A pop of disbelief more than anything.

"That right, I, SilverHAWK, am going to run the show and then, I don't know what, maybe I'll be gone for good? Or I might do a Foley and turn up whenever ratings are low."

Cheap pop.

A dirty pop.

"Pain is temporary, chicks dig scars, but immortality lasts forever...I am your ACW immortal, SilverHAWK aka "Random Hero" and with that ladies and gentleman, I bid you a good night."

The fans tore the roof off as SilverHAWK's theme hit, as he raised his right arm into the air, the fans all watching as he left, gingerly, and slowly...and as they quitened down, awaiting the last match for the night, a thought of unison panned the arena's floor.

How the mighty has fallen.

Geo Vacton was in his locker room getting ready for his match later in the night. He was making sure his boots were tight, and double checking the tape around his wrists. He looked in a mirror and made sure each hair on his head was pointing upwards, even though it always got messed up the moment he got into the ring.

There came a knock on the door.

“Come in.” Geo called, and the door opened allowing Phoenix Rose to enter the room. “Oh, hey man. What’s up?”

Rose smiled. “Yeah, you?”

“Of course. I was born ready.”

Rose smiled some more. “Yeah… I know you were.”

Geo stopped fussing with his hair, and then looked at Rose. Rose was looking down at the floor.

“What’s wrong, dude?”

Rose shuck his head. He took a deep breath. “Geo… It’s just; I know that tonight’s your night. And I don’t really wanna ruin it, but I gotta let you know… That tonight, I’m gonna take this match…”

“All the way.” Injected Geo.

“Yeah, all the way. And I mean I’m gonna do whatever it takes to win this belt tonight… This match is just as important to me as it is to you. And I’m not gonna fight with you like Marshall and the Mammoth… I’m gonna tell you straight, like I’m doing.”

Geo smiled. “Mos def. Ro’, you don’t gotta tell me twice. We’re gonna take this match to the top tonight… We’re gonna put all four of us through absolute hell… We’re gonna take our bodies to the absolute limit. And I know you want this as badly as I do… We all do. So Rose, all I’m gonna say is… “

Rose and Geo said it together. “May the best man win.”

“Yeah dude, c’mon let’s go…”

Geo and Rose exited the room. They proved to each other that they weren’t going to let the belt come between them, not like it did to the Action! League anyway. Both men were going to give 200%, and if it meant turning on each other in the ring, so be it. They were gonna do what they had to do. What happened in the ring wouldn’t reflect what happened outside of it.

Oh look, there was everybody’s favourite Clevelandishman, Joe Soap. Fully dressed thank God.

Joe was sitting in Chris’ office impatiently. Apparently the game of Dominos didn’t turn out the way Joe had imagined it, because neither person had any. So now they were left to stew.

Joe kept checking his recently re-strapped on watch.

“Where is he?! He said thirty minutes!”

“Calm down Joe, it’ll be here soon.”

“But I’ve been waiting for this moment since Monday morning when I was given that free cheeseburger from the trash can takeaway.”

“Joe, that was a trash can.”

Moments passed. Oh look, I typed “passed” wrong and Word thought I was trying to type “passé.” Idiot. Finally, the sound they were waiting for finally came. The infamous knock on the door.

“COME IN!” screamed a hungry, hungry Gypo.

Neither man was prepared for the sight that would greet them when that door opened. The pizza delivery boy had no face…

I tell a lie. It was actually none other than… Colin Gear!

“I’m so confused right now” was all Chris could say. “And I thought I had it bad, working for that sweatshop. Colin, what the hell are you doing working at Dominos Pizza?”

“Well, as you know, I’m a big fan of Futurama, so I was hoping that maybe I would end up trapped in one of those time capsules and reawaken in the year 3000. Zoidberg is pretty hot you know.”

“Give me that pizza and get out! Get out of here now! Take your money and leave! We don’t like your kind around here!” screamed Messiah.

“You mean crustacean lovers?” quizzed Joe.

“No! Scottish people! Not since that time I went to Scotland and the barman wouldn’t take my Northern Irish money.”

“But Chris, you’re one-quarter Scottish.”

“What do you want me to do Joe? Hang my head out the window? Go over there and stick my leg out the door until the end of the show? Just eat your pizza and be quiet.”

Meanwhile, a dejected and rejected Colin Gear make his way towards the door, being watched carefully by Chris. As tears were filling up in his eyes, he turned to try and salvage the situation.

“But Chris, I brought you a six-pack of chocolate flavoured Yoohoo!”

Chris was stunned by this announcement.

“Well why didn’t you say so! Come, join us! Let’s make this a night to remember. Joe, call up and invite all the girls you know!”

“But my mom is getting her hair blue-rinsed tonight, Chris.”

Oh well. And so they ate. And what a feast it was.

The match had been over for quite some time now, but Jesse was seen walking through the backstage area whipping the sweat from his body. He was pleased with the match that had happened, regardless of what the outcome would have been; he was generally happy with the way it happened. A smile crossing his face, and it didn't seem like anything was going to change his attitude for the moment, until...

… Volker bumped into him. Volker grabbed him and moved him aside so that Volker could make his way through, but as Volker moved him aside he said something along the lines of, "I could have ended that match in half the time."

With that one comment that Jesse had heard ringing through his ears, his attitude had changed momentarily. He couldn't believe someone along the lines of this, Volker Baldwin, would have said something like that to him, "Do my ears deceive me, or did I hear you correctly when you said that you could have ended that match in half the time it took me to?"

" You heard me right." Volker replied in a really cocky voice. Volker rubbed his hand over his almost shaved head. The smile on his face was huge, so big that the corners of his mouth almost reached to his ears. His face was glowing with delight.

Jesse began to smile himself, knowing that this would only piss Volker off and then released his comment with a nod, "Well, as long as I was hearing you correctly then I guess I'll be on my way. Just wanted to make sure I wasn't going deaf or anything." Jesse slowly turned and was about to make his way off...

When Volker grabbed him by the arm and threw him around; Jesse lost his balance for a second. Volker's extremely large smile left his face and became an evil look; Volker leaned forward into Jesse's face and cracked his own neck from side to side and said softly, "I got no time for saucy ass punks like you."

Jerking himself away from Volker and swiping his hand up and down his arm as though Volker had been a disease and Jesse was making sure none of it was left on him, "If you've got no time for a punk like myself, then why did you jerk me back over here?" Jesse smiled a bit, "You seem to have a problem with contradicting yourself there, Mr. Baldwin."

A look to kill came over Volker; you could see the fire in his eyes. He was starting to breathe heavily, clenched his fists tightly, and popped his shoulders forward to make himself look bigger. He got right back up in Jesse's face shouting, "I could drop you to the ground right now and you would never know what hit you, but I wont; I am going to be the bigger man and just walk away."

Jesse could only stand and smirk at the fact that though Volker was trying to be the "bigger" man as he had said, the fact that he was scared of Jesse could be seen in his eyes. Jesse knew these things; after all being in the business over twelve years did have its advantages. "Regardless of whoever was going to back down first, just know this Volker, that come next week, after your match; I'll not be back here ready to tell you that I could have competed better than you in your match, but I will be standing back here, waiting... Ready to exchange a hand of friendship and say to you, good match. Whether you take the hand or not, is your decision and will ultimately decide the relationship between the two of us."

"Just as the bell rings, start to walk here then; I won't be out there more then 30 seconds before I am back here to meet you and that's a fact." Volker released his words putting the most emphasis on his closing three and the smile grew back on his face as he turned around and started to walk off.

… And just as quickly as they had run into each other, they had departed all the same. The question left now for us to wonder upon is; what will transpire between these two men next week on Courage?

ACW United States Championship Match
Geo Vacton Vs. Phoenix Rose Vs. Marshall Vs. the Mammoth
Author - Scott Perry
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was just a few weeks ago that Phoenix Rose made his guest star debut on All-star Championship Wrestling television, since then he had spent his time siding with his long time close friend Geo Vacton in a fight against the team that have become known as “Action league”, Marshall and The Mammoth. 

For the most part the fight has been between Geo Vacton and The Mammoth with Marshall acting very much like the sidekick of his tag team partner, much like Phoenix Rose has been to Geo Vacton. Rose knew that tonight things would change not only for him but for the other three competitors involved in the match-up as well. This was the official debut of Phoenix Rose; as long as he turned up to the match a 12-month deal was in the bag, wages to be negotiated.

“A violent reaction” by American Head Charge blurred through the P.A. system, the Fatal Four Way match was about to begin. On hearing the theme tune of two of the competitors a mighty uproar came from the on looking spectators, a chorus of boo’s soon evolved in to an arena-wide “Action League!” chant. Moments passed as the two men shuffled their way behind the curtain before pushing their way through on to the stage area. Powerless to do anything about the chants of ‘Action League’ being hurled their way they simply paced down the ramp, both sets of eyes set firmly upon the squared circle that lay ahead of them, and gritted their teeth. Both men knew that once their music stopped so too would the chants.

Reaching the ring could not have come a moment too soon for the pair. They simultaneously mounted the apron, mirroring one another’s movements. Sliding on to the apron on one knee, jolting their legs a little to get to their feet and both climbing in to the ring through the middle ropes with both hands holding on to the rope as they stepped over it. They faced one another as they slid in to the ring before jogging off in opposite directions.

The chants died down along with the bigSCREEN video and the theme music of the two men.

Lights dimmed and a sense of genuine anticipation filled the arena. Fans stood to their feet and waited, a few females in the front row were caught on television sound equipment screaming in a high pitch as silence fell upon the arena.

A few seconds later an outburst of cheers sided with the opening words of the biggest draw of the matches entrance theme.

“’COS I’M T-N-T!!! I’M DY-NO-MITE!!!!”

Pyro’s blasted in to the air from the head of the ramp and flashing lights descended upon the entire arena, swirling over the top of the fans in attendance. The cheers and applause grew to a climax as a grinning Geo Vacton came jumping out on to the ramp, a spring in his step. After his victory at Revival it was clear to everyone watching both in the arena and at home that Geo Vacton was one happy man.

“TNT” by AC/DC continued to play as Geo Vacton showboated lightly on the top of the ramp, raising his arms and clapping along with the beat of the fitting song. Tonight, much like at Revival, Geo Vacton was TNT, he was dynomite.

Geo began to make his way towards the ring, as he went he slapped the hands of the lucky few close enough to the front to reach him. A smile continued to cross his face until he reached the base of the ramp where he stood and peered up at the two opponents that had previously made their way to the ring. The two bit down hard and clenched their fists as they looked down upon Vacton with eyes of pure rage.

Geo turned to face the ringside on and turned his head to look back up the ramp way waiting on his good friend and debuting superstar, Phoenix Rose.

“TNT” by AC/DC began to fade out and the pyrotechnics came to an end. The lights dimmed once more as Geo Vacton mocked the ‘Action League’ team that stood inside of the ring.

Whoosh! A slight sounds came from the head of the ramp and a lick of flames came from the far right and the left far sides of the stage, the flames crawled their way up in to the air and headed across the stage meeting in the middle leaving just a slight gap where the black curtain hung. The heat of the flames warmed the skin of those close to the staging area. Meanwhile, on the bigSCREEN a brand new video played. A Snap suplex opened the video before flaming letters zoomed inwards and across the screen, seemingly dropping off the edge of the bigSCREEN.

“Phoenix Rose” the lettering said, at that moment a blast filled the ears of the audience as the flames that had crept across the stage blasted upwards in the air and seemingly blasted in to mushroom flames for a second before settling back down to the way they were. By now smoke had come across the top of the stage and the former EYE gold champion had began to head through the curtain. 

Phoenix was wearing a sparkling orange robe with black trimmings and a matching black belt that tied at the waist, underneath this you could make out the usual black karate styled pants with “Rosey” embroidered down the front in maroon swirling lettering. He wore matching black boots and was shirtless underneath the robe. He paced out confidently on to the head of the ramp with a beaming smile across his face. 

Phoenix held two red sticks in his right hand and a lighter in his other. He flicked open the lighter and a small flame flickered in the draft that came across the stage from the smoke machines, he lit one and then the other stick and dropped the lighter before transferring one of the sticks in to his other hand. He held his arms out at his side, elbows slightly bent and let the small particles of amber flames sparkle as the wick of the dynamite sticks began to get shorter and shorter. 

As the wicks almost reached their end Phoenix tossed them in to the air and they both gave a simultaneous bang. Gold glitter fluttered down over the head of the debuting superstar as he began to walk down the ramp towards the ring, his arms still out at his side. This had been one special entry, but that said Phoenix Rose always did love to make an entrance, from the botched helicopter landing in LOW to the bungee jump in hWo he always seemed to leave a lasting impression.

As Phoenix reached the base of the ramp Geo extended his hand and Phoenix took it, the two pulled one another in to a slight embrace before turning to face the ring. Phoenix untied his robes belt and dropped the robe off his shoulders, letting it fall down to the floor behind him.

Geo looked at Phoenix, Phoenix looked at Geo, a nod between friends and the match began. Both men charged at the ring and slid under the bottom rope, Rose popped back up to his feet and sprung from the balls of his feet at The Mammoth, hitting him in the diaphragm with a quick spear, taking him down to the mat. Meanwhile across at the left side of the ring Geo was caught with a stomp to the back of the head by Marshall who then set to work on keeping Geo down on the mat with more stomps to the rear of his head, neck and upper back.

Rose climbed up on top of Mammoth and began to throw right and left shots in to the face of his pinned down opponent. The official in charge of the match began to count and as he reached a count of ten he warned the debuting superstar to end his assault on The Mammoth. Rose rolled over and back over again up to his knees before hopping up to his feet and sliding across the ring towards Marshall who was still stomping away at Geo Vacton. Rose took Marshall down momentarily with a quick clothesline; this gave Geo enough time to get to his feet. Marshall got back up at the same time, as did The Mammoth. With all four men back to their feet the real match could begin.

The Mammoth charged with a head of steam towards Geo Vacton who sidestepped the charge and helped The Mammoth along by pushing the back of his head and guiding him over in to a corner where his back made heavy contact with a turnbuckle. A second later, if that, Rose and Marshall began to exchange right-handed blows to the face. Rose led the way with the opening shot and Marshall retaliated with one of his own, this trend continued until one man finally gained the upper hand, that being Phoenix Rose. Rose managed to knock Marshall off balance long enough to get in a second shot, and a third, and a fourth, knocking Marshall backwards step by step until he was backed in to the opposite corner to his tag team partner.

Across the ring Geo grabbed The Mammoths hand and yanked him out of the corner, sending him sprinting across the ring towards Rose and Marshall. Rose did not see Geo whip his opponent across the ring and ended up being sandwiched between both members of ‘Action League’. The Mammoth stumbled backwards holding his ribs and Rose fell backwards down to the mat facing upwards to stare at the bright arena lights. A moment later Marshall fell forwards, his head colliding with Rose’s…*ahem*

Meanwhile, across the ring Geo Vacton stood looking on in sheer horror through the gaps in between his fingers that partially covered his eyes.

Rose rolled on to his side grasping at his unmentionables as Marshall rolled over on to his back. Geo headed over to the corner with the three downed men, The Mammoth by now was up on to all fours and Geo decided to go back to work on The Mammoth, he waited for the Mammoth to make his way back up to both feet before leaning against the rope a little and jogging over to his recovering opponent and hitting the Rocker Dropper across the back of his head sending him crashing back down to the mat. Geo took this opportunity to quickly turn him over and lay on top of him, making the pin.

One…

Tw—Phoenix Rose jolted to his feet and sprung across to Geo, dropping a falling axe handle smash to the back of his head. Geo rolled off of the Mammoth and up to his knee looking across at Phoenix Rose who was now getting up to his feet.

Rose rolled up to a vertical base and geo got to his feet at the same time not taking his eyes off of Rose. Rose caught sight of the staring Geo and gave a little smile, Geo nodded in respect of his aficionado and the two continued with the match, each man going for the same opponent.

Marshall made his way across the ring to Geo Vacton who gave him a kick to the stomach. As Marshall arched over Geo and Rose took an arm each and hooked them over the back of their heads before taking a handful of Marshall’s tights. The two men lifted their opponent in to the air and hit a perfect double vertical suplex. Marshall’s entire body crashed against the mat making the ring shake a little. Phoenix was quick to roll on top of Marshall and hook his leg but before the official even had chance to slap the mat Geo rolled over, slipping out of the ring and taking Rose’s leg in his hands all in one swift motion before pulling Rose off of Marshall and outside of the ring. 

Rose landed on his feet and the two looked at each other. This time neither of them smiled and neither gave a little nod to the other; they both stood and snarled at one another for a moment before Geo shoved Rose. Rose retaliated with an enormous slap across the left cheek of Geo Vacton. The sound of the slap reverberated around the arena and a loud “Whooooooooooo!” Came from the audience.

As Geo rubbed his face The Mammoth slid at the pair hitting them with a baseball slide, one foot for each opponent, and sent them both stumbling sideways and crashing in to the guard rail. Geo fell over the rail and in to the crowd, already being a little stunned this attack had a slightly more powerful affect on him. Rose on the other hand slammed the left side of his ribs in to the steel rail before collapsing to the floor, his back against the barrier, and held his ribs.

The Mammoth, who was now outside of the ring and standing directly in front of Rose, took a few steps forwards before slamming his boot in to the upper section of Rose’s ribs. He hammered Rose with a few more boots to the same section drawing his guard higher on his torso, on doing this The Mammoth scooted backwards a little before slamming the laces of his right boot hard in to the injured section of Phoenix Rose’s ribs. The kick made a thunderous slap as it made perfect connection with Rose’s torso. Rose dropped over on to his right side and clenched at his rib area.

The Mammoth didn’t give his opponent much time to recover before grabbing the long blonde locks of Rose and dragging him to his feet against his will and tossing him towards the ring. Rose rolled in to the ring under the bottom rope only to be met by a waiting Marshall who jumped in to the air and flipped his body over hitting a standing senton bomb on top of Rose. He lay there and reached over for Rose’s leg, hooking it.

One…

Two…

The Mammoth took the tights of Marshall and lifted him up from Rose’s body and dropped him just above the former EYE gold champion’s head. The Mammoth sneered down at his tag team partner.

“This one is mine, you just lay down.” He told his partner before getting to one knee.

Sllllllllllllllllllap!

The right leg of Marshall kicked upwards in to the air and made heavy contact with the temple of his tag team partner’s head. The Mammoth’s eyes rolled in to the back of his head for a moment as he fell to his left side and collapsed to the mat alongside a twitching Phoenix Rose. Marshall rolled backwards transferring all of his weight on to his shoulder blades before reaching his legs up towards the arena ceiling and flicking himself up to his feet.

Marshall ran against the ropes with the thought of some kind of double maneuver on to The Mammoth and Phoenix Rose, but his dreams were shattered as the crashing of steel against bone echoed around the arena. Geo Vacton had climbed back over the barrier and brought a fans chair with him and had hammered the spine of Marshall with it through the ropes as he ran against them. Marshall dropped to the floor as did the steel chair that Geo dropped innocently before sliding himself in to the ring and diving across to land on top of The Mammoth.

One…

Two…

Rose rolled over and slammed his forearm in to the back of Geo’s head. Geo fell off of the Mammoth and Rose rolled on top of him instead.

One…

Two…

The Mammoth reached his arm up in to the air, kicking out, Rose rolled over and up on to his knee before getting to his feet. Geo was helping himself to his feet across the ring. On seeing this Rose stood up in the corner opposite to Geo and bent his knees. Rose held the top rope with his left hand and watched as Geo turned around. Rose slid across the ring and raised his leg in to the air, catching Geo hard under his chin with a hard superkick. Geo snapped backwards and slammed the back of his head on the mat before rolling outside of the ring and falling down to the floor, his whole body slapping against the cold floor below.

The Mammoth by now was fully recovered and waiting for Rose to finish his move. As Rose came out of the superkick and jogged a little back in towards the center of the ring The Mammoth slapped his hand around the throat of the debuting superstar. Rose grabbed hold of The Mammoth’s gigantic hand as he began to choke. The Mammoth wrenched Phoenix Rose up in to the air and slammed him down, choke slamming him down to the mat. The ring shook violently as Rose splattered against the mat, his body becoming limp as he lay on the mat completely motionless.

Marshall started to drag himself to his feet using the ropes to help him but as he got to the middle rope an arm shot through the ropes. Geo Vacton nailed Marshall in the face sending him flying backwards and landing on his back. Marshall was down and out once more.

Geo slid in to the ring underneath the bottom rope and charged at The Mammoth with a head of steam. The Mammoth side stepped Geo allowing him to bounce against the ropes and fly back across the ring hitting a flying lariat. Geo landed awkwardly on his shoulder as The Mammoth hit the mat. Geo rolled a little holding his shoulder.

With all four men on the mat, it was still anybodies game at this point. Marshall was the first one to stir. He picked his arm up off the mat, and grabbed onto the second rope. He pulled himself up to his feet and tripped across the ring. Phoenix Rose rolled over onto his knees and got to his feet. Seeing that Marshall was up to something, Rose attacked him with a clothesline. Marshall was yet again knocked down, and Rose went for a pin.

One…

Two…

Marshall kicked out with nothing to it. Geo began to twitch, and he was now getting back up. The Mammoth was also slowly beginning to climb back to his feet. Rose picked up Marshall ran him across the ring, dragging his face on the top rope. Marshall pushed him off and touched his rope burn. Marshall kicked him in the stomach and gave him a quick DDT. Marshall went for the pin on him but the Mammoth broke it up. Proving that he didn’t want anyone but himself to win this match, he grabbed Marshall off of Rose and tossed him to the side. The Mammoth picked up Rose and grabbed him by the throat. He let out a massive roar, and picked him up into the air and slammed him down with yet another choke slam. The Mammoth laid his boot on top of Rose’s chest, and made a legal pin fall.

One…

Two…

No!

The pin was broken up, this time by Marshall. Marshall slammed himself into the side of the Mammoth and shoved him into the ropes. Marshall let out a few punches on him, but the Mammoth quickly recovered. He lifted him up into the air, and like a child he tossed him out of the ring. The Mammoth faced the ropes and leant over them, yelling down at Marshall.

Geo Vacton appeared from behind the Mammoth and gave him a clothesline that sent him over the top rope and down on top of Marshall. Rose was now back at his feet, and being a man who loves to see cameras flashing, climbed up to the top turnbuckle. Rose peered down upon two downed men and couldn’t resist. He leapt off the top turnbuckle and fell down to the outside of the ring with a big elbow aimed directly at the Mammoth’s heart, his elbow drove right in to the chest of the Mammoth who jolted around the floor in pain as Rose slid a little across the floor, his greased up body leaving a snail like trail across the black padding outside of the ring.

Geo was now the only one left in the ring, and working like a well oiled machine he waited for Rose to roll away from the Mammoth, and then he grabbed the top ropes and leap frogged himself over it to come down on the Mammoth with a splash.

With all four men out of the ring, the referee started a ten count. Marshall rolled away from the wreckage and grabbed at the ring apron. He pulled himself onto it, but was pulled back down by the risen Phoenix. Geo rolled off of the Mammoth and he too began to climb back to his feet. Once up, he lifted the Mammoth back up and rolled him into the ring. The referee stopped the count, since there would be too much going on for him to watch everything.

Geo brought the Mammoth up and gave him some Rocky Miavia like slaps to the head. Once he had the Mammoth in the corner he climbed up on to the second rope and started unleashing his fists on to his skull, but the Mammoth quickly reversed the situation by grabbing Geo’s legs and delivering a hard spinebuster, slamming him onto the mat. Once Geo was down, the Mammoth now had the upper hand in taking him out. He began punching away at his skull, and eventually punched hard enough to break his stitches and reopen him. Geo began to bleed, and the Mammoth seemed content. He brought Geo to his feet and shoved him to the ropes with an Irish whip. On the return the Mammoth hit Geo with a massive boot to the opened wound on his head. Geo nearly did a back flip after his face hit, and he bounced about a foot off the mat when he fell.

The Mammoth went for a pin.

One…

Two…

Geo narrowly got a shoulder up.

Meanwhile on the outside of the ring Rose and Marshall had both dragged themselves up to their feet with the aid of the ring apron and were exchanging tired blows to one another’s jaws. Not long after they both leant away from the ring apron and began to fight harder and harder. Marshall swung in for a hard punch but Rose ducked it and swept behind his opponent locking in a waist lock. Rose hoisted Marshall off his feet but as he did it seemed as though Marshall slipped a little. Rose’s grip also slipped and Marshall dropped backwards slamming the back of his neck awkwardly on the steel chair that lay behind the pair. The fans saw the blown spot and let out a collective moan of sympathy, it was as if they almost felt Marshall’s pain as he lay there motionless on the floor. Rose looked down at his blatantly injured opponent and then peered back in to the ring where Geo and the Mammoth were going at it. He did what was for the best and slid under the bottom rope, leaving Marshall on the outside of the ring.

The Mammoth whipped Geo against the ropes and Rose ran in from the side interrupting what looked to be an upcoming side walk slam by spearing the Mammoth in the side of his ribs, sending him crashing down to the mat. Geo continued to run, bouncing off the other ropes before dropping down and delivering a sliding dropkick in to the right side of Phoenix Rose. Rose tumbled over and grabbed at his ribs whilst Geo got back to his feet and began to confidently showboat.

The referee was outside of the ring checking on the injured Marshall, but back inside of the ring Geo Vacton raised his arms and gave off his trademark smile with his pearly white teeth gleaming under the arenas bright lights.

As Geo stood there, a big smile on his face, the shock of a lifetime would end all of that. The cameras in the audience flashed a little more and Geo thought that they were loving his taunting, but that was not the case for entering the ring from the rear was a former ACW superstar, and a former enemy of Geo Vacton’s. Making an unprecedented return to ACW television the man came from behind Geo Vacton and slid down to one knee, hooking his deep black arm underneath and in between the legs of Geo. Geo arched over grasping at his groin, his face wrinkled up as he let out a deep moan before dropping to his knees. Peering over him from behind stood the returning phenomenon…

A*DUBBS!
A*DUBBS!
A*DUBBS!

A*Dubbs stood over Geo for a moment before locking in a full nelson and picking him up to his feet. A*Dubbs arched backwards and hit a perfectly executed tiger driver suplex, releasing Geo as the maneuver ended. A*Dubbs got back to his feet and looked down at Geo who lay holding the back of his head.

A*Dubbs looked to be in the best shape of his entire career as he snarled down at Vacton. A*Dubbs’s muscles pumped and twitched as he continued to look down on the recovering ACW superstar, he looked outside at the referee to check his positioning and estimating a time frame for how long he had left inside the ring before standing over Geo’s head and grabbing his waist, dragging him to his feet and tucking Geo’s head between his legs. A*Dubbs lifted geo up on to his shoulders and dropped him down, he himself dropping down to his knees, and hitting a perfectly executed powerbomb. The ring shook and at the same time A*Dubbs rolled off of Geo and out of the ring before sliding over the barricade and heading off in to the audience.

Rose began to stir across the ring and dragged himself to his feet with the aid of all three ropes at some point along the way. As he turned around and saw a sprawled out Geo Vacton he took advantage of the situation and quickly sprinted across the ring and swooped up to the top rope. Facing out towards the audience for a split second Rose sprung from the top rope and arched his body over before flipping backwards smoothly and dropping down on top of Geo Vacton executing a perfect Moonsault before hooking the right leg with his right arm and waiting for the referee to slide back in the ring.

Rose jerked his head around a little in frustration as he waited on the referee who finally slid in to the ring and slapped the mat.

One…

Two…

Th—the Mammoth, who had been given ample time to recover as he lay across the ring in the corner, delivered a heavy leg drop to the back of Rose’s head, forcing him to roll off the top of Geo Vacton and thus break the count.

During this time (and for quite some time previous to this) Marshall had been trying to get back to his feet on the outside of the ring. The blown German suplex from earlier had blurred his vision and made him feel sick. His head throbbed and every cheer or boo from the audience cut through him like scissors through paper. Nonetheless the show must go on, that was his mentality as he crawled in to the ring under the bottom rope at a slow pace. As Marshall got to his feet Phoenix Rose gave him a kick in to the stomach before bending over himself and tucking his body underneath Marshall’s so that Rose’s spine was pressed against the ribs and stomach of Marshall. Rose hooked the left leg of Marshall with his right arm.

”Sorry about the spot. New move like we practiced.”

Rose, after a quick sincere apology, instructed Marshall to let him deliver what he was hoping would become his new finishing move. Rose lifted Marshall letting Marshall’s head hang at the same level as Rose’s backside, Marshall’s left leg was still hooked and thus it hung at a ninety degree angle to Rose’s torso, sticking out in front of him, the right leg hung loosely in a similar fashion to the left one. Rose fell down to a seated position driving the head of Marshall’s in to the mat, compressing the neck of Marshall as well as creating a considerable amount of pressure on the skull of his now downed opponent. Marshall rolled over landing on his back.

Meanwhile on the other side of the ring geo Vacton had dragged himself to a standing position in the corner and the Mammoth was also standing. Geo quickly ran behind the Mammoth and hooked his head from behind before hitting the ‘dynamite drop’.

Quickly Geo hopped on top of the Mammoth and hooked his leg.

One…

Rose rolled to his knee.

Two…

Seeing the pinfall he went to run across the ring but tripped over Marshall and missed geo by mere inches with a falling axe handle smash.

Three…!

The bell sounded and the match was over but a few questions remained.

Is A*Dubbs back for good?

What will come of his return?

Just whose fault was the blown spot, and who is going to pay the price for it?

But for now Geo Vacton forgot about all of that. He got up to his feet, blood now covering his face, and gave off an ear-to-ear blood smeared smile. The referee handed him the title that he had earned after so much hard work both in and out of the ring and took his other hand, raising it in to the air.

Geo raised his arms towards the roof, on with the ACW US championship in it, as the audience roared. “T-N-T! T-N-T! T-N-T!”

And with that, the show ended.