September 30th 2004
Recorded LIVE! from
Jacksonville, Alabama - Pete
Mathews Coliseum
Card subject to change without notice
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Where Do We Go From Here, Part One
His match. And with his vision transfixed on himself for the current time, he couldn't help but think the same with over and over and over again. "How did I get myself into this?" The sarcastic answer would be by punching Brian Carter in the face, but since the fictional narrator isn't sarcastic, there was no real answer to the question other than the ones that Laguna thought to himself. He wasn't a fighter. He wasn't even a lover. And he was ITALIAN! He was a businessman. Nothing more, nothing less. So by the end of the tonight, he could have done a few things for the first time. 1) Wrestled a match. 2) Performed infront of a PPV audience. 3) Lost a company. He was hoping...praying it wasn't the third one.
A Fine Man's Interlude
Sometimes, redemption plays a bigger part in our lives than we give it credit for. Redemption is ongoing. Nobody can ever be fully redeemed from their regrets and/or whatever crimes they might have committed. The only constant in a world of change, is the practice of redemption. And for our two brave competitors in this upcoming battle, redemption is what they're seeking. "Crossbearer" by Cave In started up over the speakers, and the fans were on their feet for the reigning Scorpion Fighting Champion. AZRAEL ASESINO came out from the back with a warm smile on his face, and his championship belt wrapped around his waist. People liked Azrael for the gritty competitor that he was, and hoped he would win tonight. Asesino, though, was wary of his opponent tonight. And in the back of his head, Azrael was hoping that he'd be able to do whatever it took to keep his title. He was proud of being the Scorpion Fighting Champion, even if it had not earned him the respect he thought would come with having the belt. Decked out simply in a pair of dark red denim jeans and black boots, Azrael slowly made his way into the ring and unhooked his title... holding it up for his legion of fans. Tonight would prove to be the Mexican's fourth title defense since winning it way back on July 22. Ironically enough, the person he defeated to win the crown? Natalie Quinston. That's right; the former partner of his opponent tonight. Full circle, eh? We would soon find out. As his theme song faded out, Azrael handed his title over to the newest referee employed by the federation, Lucas Nuckallin, and thought about his one strategy one more time. Since, you know, it was a 2/3 Falls Match and all. More importantly, however, Azrael was thinking about whether it would matter if he did end up triumphant. See, since winning the Scorpion Fighting Title, none of his three defenses have been telecasted to the live audience. Sure, you could attribute it to unprecedented circumstances... but Azrael Asesino felt that his talent was being undermined, nonetheless. Hence, the desire to win. To redeem himself to the management, and make them realise that their Scorpion Fighting Champion was someone who was invaluable to the promotion. Would also do wonders for his self-esteem. Annnnd, with that, we cue up "Lucky You" by the Deftones. If there was someone who could make sure Azrael Asesino's career could be further clouded in misery, it would be FEJONA MIN. The jeering that enemated from the stands was... for a lack of a better term, frightening. In just a few short months, the former tA bombshell that still held the Women's Title had become quite hated by one and all. Who wouldn't be, if you went up against Quinton May several weeks ago? Yes, she had lost that war. But now, she had her sights on continuing her mission. Which was (from the very beginning, even when she was simply an aide to her cousin Ijinza Yebanka in the ill-fated and now defunct OSF!) to become famous, by any means possible. Fejona definitely had the looks, and had proven thus far that she had the talent. So, it was a bit of a surprise that the Cambodian Femme Fatale started her month of September in ACW with only one victory. Since then, though, she's picked up three straight victories. And was hoping the fourth one would come with a title. Fejona -- wearing a black sleeveless tanktop, white taekwondo pants, and with no footwear at all whatsoever -- quickly made her way down to the ring, with a steely gaze locked on Azrael Asesino. Since the day tA stopped operating in its usual manner, the Cambodian's rise through the ranks of the industry has hit a wall. Tonight, was her chance at redemption. Climbing into the ring, Fejona ascended up one of the corner turnbuckles and raised her arms in the air, further inciting a string of profanities from the hostile crowd. Min simply smirked as she flipped down back to the canvas, ready to embark on an adventure she was most familiar with. Back in tA, she took part in a Best 2/3 Falls Series with Heather Vergas, in a bid to bring the Women's Title out of existence. While that was amazingly interesting and quite possibly produced the best moments in recent Asylum history, tonight... was a slightly different proposition altogether. Azrael Asesino? A man, for starters. "Ready to dance, Azrael? I know I am." Fejona taunted, as the two competitors were brought to the middle of the ring by the newb of a referee. Asesino simply kept his mouth shut. He'd let his fists and his eventual actions dictate how this match would unfold. And, since everything was in place, referee Lucas Nuckallin got the ball rolling! * DING DING DING * Without wasting any time at all, Fejona charged like a wilderbeast on cocaine at Azrael Asesino, swinging her right leg at him once she got close. Azrael was smart enough to roll underneath the attempting running roundhouse kick from the Cambodian, and elbowed her in the back of her neck once he popped up to his feet. Fejona growled as she, without any control over her own body, bounced off the ropes and right back into Azrael's path. Which wasn't quite the best thing to ever happen, since Azrael had the presence of mind to lower his shoulder and lift Fejona up & over, in a back body drop. Fans loved that one, and Fejona's face scrounged up into a mask of pain as her body crashed down to the canvas. So far, so NOT good. But, hey, still early times in a match where you gotta win TWO falls, eh? Not if you're Azrael Asesino and you have a point to prove. Asesino quickly turned around and pulled Fejona up by her oh-so-lovely hair. Just for that, Fejona lashed out with a knife-edged chop to Azrael's chest. The Champion barely flinched, however, and retaliated with a forearm smash. Before knee'ing Min in the ribs, and taking her down to the canvas with a deliciously painful snap suplex! Quickly floating over, Azrael hooked the legs; ONE. TWO. T -- NOT A CHANCE, BUDDY! Azrael immediately stood to his feet and dragged Fejona back up, wrenching her left arm as hard as he possibly could. Min soaked up the pain and waited for Asesino to make his next move. Which turned out to be the further wringing of the arm. By then, Fejona was definitely feeling the burn, and did the only thing she could in that situation. Well, two things, see. Firstly, she thumbed the Scorpion Fighting Champion in the eyes. And secondly, Fejona yanked Azrael towards her, since he still had control of her arm and all. Made it easier for the Rogue Slayer to take Asesino down with a spectacular monkey flip in the middle of the ring. Whooo, baby! Kipping to her feet, Fejona flicked strands of her ethereal hair out of her face and shot herself into the ropes. Azrael knew he was in a vulnerable spot and rolled onto his belly, forcing Fejona to leapfrog over his lifeform. Once that was accomplished, Azrael Asesino leapt up to his feet and rushed at Fejona, taking her down with an exquisite armdrag takedown. Only thing was, the Cambodian Femme Fatale managed to SOMEHOW land on her feet. I know, it was beyond belief. Even that bastard, Ripley, couldn't believe it. And he believes a lot of superficial junk. Ahem. Anyways, Azrael was (un)pleasantly stunned as he turned around. What with Fejona lunging herself at the Champion, and connection with a hopping leaping spear takedown! She got quite an applause from pockets of the crowd for that one, but the majority of the fans were jeering their black hearts out. Didn't matter to Fejona, as she made sure to hook both of Azrael's legs; ONE. TWO. TH -- KICKOUT! Fejona frowned a little, in annoyance, as she got back up to her feet and stomped away at Azrael's right hand. Yes, hand. Unusual strategy from Min, but haven't we learnt from history never to argue with geniuses? Ahem. In any event, after the stomping, Fejona pulled Azrael up and sock'd him with an old-fashioned throat thrust, before twirling around like a fairy. That was because the Enchanting Delinquent had hopes of scoring with a spinning backfist, much akin to what the School Girl used to... well, use, in tSC. Azrael was able to evade the backfist, however, and immediately countered with a northern lights throwaway slam! Min cried out in pain as her spine crashed down onto the mat, but there was more in store for her. You just know there would be, especially since Azrael shot himself off the ropes. Returning, Asesino dropped an elbow down onto Fejona's sternum, before mounting her (with a slight smirk on his face), & readying his right fist for some pounding. "Yes, I'm definitely ready to... dance!" Asesino slyly remarked, before driving his fist down onto Fejona's face. Repeatedly, and without recourse. Min wasn't going to take that lying down or standing up -- bottomline, she didn't like the comprimising situation she was in, and drove her knee upwards into Azrael's gonads. Ooooh, that had to sting. Referee Nuckallin leaned in to admonish the former Asylum fighter, but it fell on deaf ears. As expected. With Azrael's body still on her, Fejona struck with a forearm smash to the Champion's face... an act that forced Azrael to roll off his challenger. Smiling to herself now, Fejona kipped to her feet once more and ran towards the ropes. Displaying immense agility, Min springboarded off the top rope and twisted her body sideways as she flew back, connecting with an inch-perfect elbow drop! That garnered quite a pop from the crowd, and Min figured this would be it as she made the cover; ONE. TWO. THR -- OH, CLOSE! Once again, Fejona looked up at the referee in annoyance, but the newest member of ACW's referee'ing squad held up two fingers, reaffirming his count. Min shook her head and pulled Azrael up, lashing out with another throat thrust just prior to whipping Azrael into one of the corner turnbuckles. No whiplash effect was invoked, so, Fejona charged towards Azrael. Asesino was waiting for her, though, and raised both his legs up... pushing his feet directly into the face of the oncoming Fejona Min. The Cambodian Femme Fatale staggered backward, a bit rattled. This gave Asesino the chance to hoist himself onto the top of the turnbuckle, and he promptly took flight with a double axe-handle smash in mind. Unfortunately for him, Fejona Min sidestepped to the right and countered with a spinning heel kick, driving her leg directly into Azrael's ribs. Thereafter, the self-proclaimed greatest Asylum's Women Champion sought to build on her momentum with a snap side russian leg-sweep. Did she connect? NUH UH, for Azrael Asesino swung his right elbow sideways, catching Fejona squarely in the face. Fans liked that one a lot, but were disappointed when no blood was drawn. Ohhh, boo hoo. Ahem. Anyways, after taking a second to catch his breath, Azrael spun around, hoping to knock Fejona down with a clothesline or something resembeling it. Fejona Min was proving to be at the top of her game, though; having already shown innate sense of anticipation so far, Fejona once again evaded getting hit, as she deftly shuffled to her right and struck with a palm heel strike to Azrael's face, before grabbing his left arm and twisting it sideways. Asesino cringed, but immediately raked Min in the eyes, getting a bit of admonishment from referee Lucas as a result. Our beloved Scorpion Fighting Champ simply ignored it and grabbed Fejona's right arm, wrenching it every which way, before yanking the Enchanting Delinquent toward him and knocking her down with a shoulder barge. Min was on the canvas, seething, looking up at the rafters. Then, of course, Azrael bounced off the ropes and scored with a punishing legdrop. Following which, Azrael Asesino made the quick cover; ONE. TWO. TH -- SHOULDER! Azrael ran a hand through his head of hair, trying to maintain his cool. Fejona was obviously a warrior who could absorb quite a lot of pain, and this match called for one to pace themselves properly. Since it was 2/3 Falls, and all. Pulling Fejona up, Asesino figured he'd go back to the basics and wear out his firecracker of an opponent first. To achieve that, he needed to keep her stationery. And Asesino knew the perfect way of doing that; standing armbar, of course. Min threw her head back and growled, feeling the strain of her left arm due to the standing armbar. Azrael could even afford to smile a little, until the Cambodian Femme Fatale kicked him in the right shin. That was only the start of her fightback; and, golly gee, what a fightback it was. Realising that she was close to the ropes, Fejona used the fact that Azrael was a little dazed to put her plan in motion and ran towards the ropes. Without any fear, she springboarded off the top of the rope, and swung backwards, catching Azrael in the face with BOTH of her knees! Talk about brutality of the innovative kind, eh? Asesino staggered backwards, almost tripping over his own legs, completely knocked silly by that piece of genius from Fejona Min. The Rogue Slayer was now operating purely on adrenaline, and she desperately wanted to pick up the first fall here. Still, it probably wasn't wise to cartwheel across the ring and attempt a high-leg clothesline. Because, even if he was a little bit punk'd from Min's springboarding swinging double-knee attack, Azrael Asesino was able to duck underneath the high-leg clothesline, and as he turned around, grabbed Fejona by her hair. That's why women are at a disadvantage; women with long hair, at least. Fejona was yanked backwards, and right into a rear waistlock by Azrael. STANDING RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX, motherfucker! Oh, wait. One tiny problem. You really wouldn't believe it... kinda had to be there to actually see it, to understand what had happened. ... Okay, I'll stop stalling now. Fejona landed on her feet, and immediately charged at the unsuspecting Azrael Asesino, driving a harsh roundhouse kick to the kidney area. Asesino howled out in agony, dropping to his knees as his back locked up on him as a result of the roundhouse kick. Fejona Min flicked strands of her hair out of her eyes again, and grinned. The position Azrael was in? Gave her the perfect opportunity to apply a rear facelock. And considering that Azrael wasn't that much heavier than her, the Cambodian Femme Fatale was able to lift the Mexican superstar off the canvas, and drill him down to the canvas with a reverse brainbuster! Holy shit? Oh yeah, that was a thing of beauty, alright. All the Fejona-marks in the stands were going wild at that show of aggressiveness from the Rogue Slayer. Fejona, though, didn't go for the cover. She looked a bit stretched from having executed the reverse brainbuster, but maybe... just maybe, she was contemplating her next move. As she stood to her feet, Fejona Min had a certain glow to her, and she swiftly pulled Azrael Asesino up to his feet. Two seconds later, the challenger had the Champion in a reverse facelock once more. Pulling back a bit, Fejona then sweeped Azrael's legs from under him, essentially having the latter trapped in a dragon sleeper. With a mighty heave, Fejona lifted Asesino off the canvas, and dropped him in between her legs in a sitout piledriver! That, friends, was a lil' something called SAGACITY 02, in all its brain-squelching glory. The fans? They were all stunned as hell, at the awesomeness of that move. Fejona Min simply rolled over and hooked the legs, hoping it would be enough to secure the first fall; ONE. TWO. THREE! FIRST FALL: FEJONA MIN Indeed, it was more than enough, for Azrael barely moved following the execution of one of Fejona's out-and-out finishers. Rolling away, the Cambodian Femme Fatale wiped sweat off her forehead, now knowing that she was a mere one fall away from claiming the apparently-cursed Scorpion Fighting Title. With the 30-second rest period done and dusted, referee Lucas Nuckallin called for the bell again, and Fejona used the ropes to pull herself up. She had her eyes locked on the still-motionless Azrael Asesino, and slowly stumbled over to the reigning Champion. Fejona was a little wary as to whether Azrael was faking or genuinely out of it, from SAGACITY 02. Didn't matter to her. With one fall already done and dusted, Fejona was now switching back to her all-time primary mode of offense as opposed to the tactic she'd adopted for the first part of this match. She crouched down and took control of Azrael's right leg, driving a stiff kick into the back of the knee. Yes, she was going to begin softening the Mexican up for her submission finisher. Unless, of course, Azrael could knock her senseless first. Maybe the sudden raising of his left leg and the crashing of it into Fejona's ribs may achieve that? Well, it did manage to knock Fejona Min across the ring. Immense power packed behind that kick by Asesino, who confirmed suspicions that he was simply playing possum there. The crowd cheered loudly, having been a bit quiet over the last few minutes, especially with the Cambodian grabbing a lead in this match. Rolling to his feet, Azrael limped slightly as a result of that stiff kick to the back of his right knee just a couple of seconds earlier, but it didn't deter Asesino from lunging at the recovering Fejona Min and flooring her with a harsh clothesline! Fejona scrambled back to her feet and spun around, hoping to catch Azrael in mid-movement. Unfortunately for her, she was ripe pickings for another clothesline. Once Min pulled herself back up, she found herself in a familiar position; a rear waistlock. This time, there was to be no magic trick performed by the Cambodian Femme Fatale, as she was comprehensively drilled to the canvas in a German Suplex. Azrael kept the rear waistlock cinched in and pulled Fejona right back up. On that occasion, though, Asesino opted to hit a belly-to-back suplex instead. A bridging belly-to-back, mind you. Referee was quick to go down to his knees; ONE. TWO. TH -- KICKOUT! Azrael rolled off of Fejona and pounded the canvas with his clenched right fist, frustrated that he had not been able to keep Fejona down long enough for the 3 there. Min, meanwhile, rolled to her left... aiming to use the ropes to help herself up. She had suddenly lost control of her match, and now had to find another way to do two things; weaken the vertical base of Azrael AND wear him out enough to pick up the vital second fall. Both competitors stood to their feet, and instantly charged at each other, both having plans to knock down the other with some form of clothesline. Turns out, Fejona was quicker on this exchange & was the first to swing her arm right at Azrael. BUT! The esteemed Scorpion Fighting Champion ducked underneath it and took himself into the ropes. Fejona slapped the brakes on and spun on her heels, aiming to intercept Azrael before he came lunging back at her. Too damn late. Asesino took flight once he rebounded off the ropes... and he flattened Fejona Min with a cross body block! The crowd roared jubilantly, as Azrael stood to his fist and shouted at Fejona to get up. Seems that the animosity between the two had reached soaring heights in just a matter of weeks; especially when Fejona attacked Azrael last week, after his tricky title defense. Now, Fejona was getting the full force of Azrael's revenge. And Asesino was going to make sure he did everything humanly possible to make the Rogue Slayer pay. This was evident when he pulled Fejona up and knocked her senseless with a forearm smash, before jamming his knee into Min's ribs. The Cambodian Femme Fatale doubled over and was really feeling frazzled. Even more so, when Azrael once again grabbed her by the hair and tossed her out of the ring like yesterday's garbage. Quite humiliating for the former Asylum Women's Champion, landing on the concrete face-first. The fans in the front row? Oh, they were pointing and laughing at Fejona, who was now on her hands and knees, trying to get back up. Wasn't going to happen then, for Azrael stepped through the ropes and scored with a jumping elbow drop from the apron! Fejona's spine? Say hello to SNAPPPPP. Hey, if Fejona's spine wasn't in the least bit effected by that elbow drop, then I declare her some kind of sexy robot from the future. Like Bender, from Futurama. Only, you know, with nice tits and a (juicy) cunt. ... Ahem, sorry about that. I'm a bit horny currently. But, annnnyways. Fejona was dragged up to a standing position, and elbow'ed in the face by Azrael, who was a bit possessed at the moment. Not by a ghost, of course; just... driven to get back into this match and eventually end up retaining the title he worked hard to win to begin with. I digress. Following that shot to her face, Fejona staggered backwards and her spine -- which, if you remember, was just pulverised by an elbow drop from the apron -- made unprotected contact with the security barricade. Azrael stormed over and directed a couple of kicks into the midsection of the Cambodian Femme Fatale, before he tucked her head under his armpit, and did a little dance. Well, okay, Azrael didn't do EXACTLY that. Instead, he took a couple of steps back and lifted Fejona into the air... holding her up there for a couple of seconds, before dropping the Rogue Slayer down onto the security barricade! Yowzah, Fejona was now hung out to dry like a fish, and to make matters worse, her arse was sticking out for all the perverts in the front row to ogle at. This is your chance, fellas! It was also Azrael's chance to inflict further damage, and what better way to do that by climbing back onto the apron, eh? With Fejona Min in the most precarious of positions, Asesino was hellbent on driving the final nail into her coffin. One solid move, and the Cambodian could probably be sufficiently weakened long enough for the Champion to gain two falls. As Azrael took flight, though, with the hopes of connecting with another elbow drop to Fejona's spine and thereby destroying her spinal column... Fejona spectacularly sprung into action, flipping herself up and over. In that sense, she got herself up onto Azrael's shoulders as he came barrelling down on Min, and snapped him over with a hurricaranna! Yes, ladies and gentlemen. That was the stuff of legends. Please, show your support now. "HOLY
SHIT!" Thank you. Fejona deserves that. Azrael Asesino was now sprawled out on the floor, amid the sea of humanity that was the fans. Fejona Min... was taking a heck of a time getting to her feet. And considering that her back had been worked on relentlessly by Azrael, she could be forgiven for being a tad bit sluggish. But it was that same fact that had her pissed as hell, and she was now intending to finish Azrael Asesino off, once and for fucking all. One more fall, remember, and she would be the new Champion. Leaning over the barricade, Fejona reached down and peeled Asesino up from the ground, before lifting him up in a suplex... and dropping him backwards. The result? Azrael's lower spine and legs connected violently with the edge of the apron, which suited Fejona's strategy just fiiiine. As long as violence of the highest order was dished out, she was happy. With the match hitting the 15-minute mark, Fejona pulled Azrael up again and rolled him into the ring, much to the the referee's relief (Lucas had been a quiet observer all the while since he wanted the match to flow!). Min too got back into the ring after another breather on the outside, only to find that the SF Champion had clambered back up to his feet. So, what did Fejona do? Took the sucker down with a chop block, of course. That preceeded a insane stomping session from the Cambodian Femme Fatale, all targetted at both the legs of the Mexican superstar. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what Min's gameplan was. Pulling Azrarel up, the Enchanting Delinquent spat in the Champion's face, before chopping him savagely across the chest (WHOOO~!). Asesino flinched and grabbed his sternum, feeling tha burn there. Min didn't let up, and struck with two more chops, before whipping Azrael Asesino into the ropes. Before the latter could even bounce off of 'em, Fejona got into the position, and once the time was right, she aimed a dropkick at Azrael. Tiiiiny problem. Azrael wrapped his arms around the ropes, which halted the natural laws of rebounding, and Fejona crashed down to the canvas, having kicked nothing but air. Noticing that Min was writhing due to the pain, Azrael trekked forward and took to a roll, trapping Fejona in a rolling clutch pin. Fans went wild at the sight of this. And, Lucas Nuckallin quickly got in position to count the cover; ONE. TWO. THRE -- NO! So close. So... very close. Not close enough, though. Fejona got her shoulder up just in the nick of time there, and prevented herself from being embarrassed in a most humiliating manner. Both Azrael and Min raced back to their feet, eager to get on with it. Fejona, of course, was more determined to regain the control that she just had a few moments ago. A running sidekick? Parried by Azrael Asesino, who followed up with a stiff kick to the ribs of the tA Women's Champion and lifted her up in a gutwrench. Instead of simply throwing her over his shoulder in a suplex, though, Azrael Asesino instead laid her out with a falling neckbreaker from the gutwrench position, earning many a cheer from the crowd for that one! And with that innovative and blockbuster move out of the way, Azrael made the hasty cover; ONE. TWO. THREE! SECOND FALL: AZRAEL ASESINO Looks like we were allll tied up now, hmm? Azrael was bloody pleased about this as he rolled off Fejona and retreated to a corner of the ring, biding his time while the 30-second rest period was in effect. The fans were on their feet, in a state of frenzied excitement. For a while there, it appeared as if Fejona Min would be able to, against sudden pressure from the Champion, secure the second fall. Not anymore, hicks and shemales. Azrael was firmly in control now, and he was looking more likely to go on to win the match. Especially since Fejona was having a torrid time getting back to her feet. Just as she did? Lucas Nuckallin rang the bell; the 30-second break was over, and Azrael *exploded* out of the corner, dropkicking Fejona in the spine! The Cambodian Femme Fatale was flung face-first into the corner turnbuckle, and as she tumbled back, Azrael -- with a perverted grin plastered on his face -- snuck up behind Fejona, his hands ready for some arse-groping. Time-honoured tradition, that. One I've personally partaken in many a time. My bad. He simply pushed Fejona down to her knees and fucked her doggy style. I MEAN... took her up and over with a textbook wheelbarrow suplex! The ring reveberated from the impact of Fejona's small frame bouncing off the mat like a basketball would bounce off a court during a Championship game. I know that didn't make much sense, but, bear with me here. So, with Fejona Min on the backfoot, what was our grand Scorpion Fighting Champion going to do? He wasn't going for the pin, that's for damn sure. That... would come in a matter of seconds. How do I know? Why else, then, did Azrael pick Fejona up, and drill her down to the canvas in a... belly-to-belly crossed-arm trap crade suplex? More commonly known as JUDGMENT, his god-damn primary end-all finisher? Suffice to say, Fejona Min was finished. And with merely two minutes into this third portion of the match, too. What a weakling. Azrael desperately flung himself on top of Fejona, and hooked BOTH the legs; ONE. TWO. THREE! ... ... NOOOOOOOOOO! By God, that Fejona is some kind of machine! Forget that 'weakling' shit, the woman kicked out of Azrael's primary finisher! Something nobody has ever done in ACW history! Asesino was in absolute disbelief, while the crowd jeered passionately, unable to come to terms with what had happened. Standing to his feet, Azrael dropped his knee down across Min's throat, before dragging her lifeless body towards a corner of the ring. If his primary finisher didn't do the job, Asesino thought, and since he couldn't revert to the gutwrench falling neckbreaker again because Fejona would anticipate it... there was only one other option left for the Champion. That option was clear for all to see, as Asesino climbed up the turnbuckle, his back turned on Fejona. The fans were cheering wholeheartedly, their excitement at a fever pitch now. Azrael Asesino was probably only one leap away from securing victory here, and the risk-taker from Mexico intended for this MOONSAULT to get the feckin' job done. So, with that... he took flight, twisting backwards, barrelling down on the helpless Fejona Min with the moonsault. Suddenly, though, Min didn't seem so helpless. Why? Hmmm, simple. Because she got her KNEES UP, you dumb cock~! "ARGH!" Azrael grunted as he rolled away from Fejona, holding his ribs in absolute agony. Fejona simply chuckled as she pulled herself up, thoroughly exhausted. Now, though, was the chance to bank on her second wind. And, hell, if you've never seen Fejona operating on her reserves in tA... you're in for a treat of a lifetime. Azrael was, quite surprisingly, back to his feet in a matter of seconds. A bit red-faced at having missed his moonsault, and a bit worse for wear with his ribs probably being broken by Fejona's brilliant counter. What he didn't know was that the Callous Vixen herself was already measuring him up, simply waiting for the Champion to turn the fuck around. Ho hum. Once Asesino did just that, Fejona went to work, stunning him with a double whammy often referred to as PARAFUSO! Oh, lordy, somebody call ze ambulance; we have a flatliner here. Landing on her feet, as is the norm with this Enchanting Delinquent, Fejona raised her arms in the air... somewhat already proclaiming herself the winner. The fans, while in awe of that move (useless non-tA watching bums), continued to hurl abuse at Fejona Min. Since, you know, she never endeared herself to the fans. Except when she executed moves that were just downright impossible, yet made possible by her. Example? Oh, say, somersaulting backwards and landing on the top rope (rope -- not the turnbuckle, the actual rope cable!), showcasing ungodly balance to not slip off, before pulling off a shooting star press onto a prone victim laying in the middle of the ring? Hmm, I'd say that tops a long list. It's also what she actually did, and immediately after, made the cover; ONE. TWO. THRE -- KICKOUT! It was Azrael's turn to show that he had more fight in him than anyone ever thought possible. Fejona snarled at referee Lucas, who maintained that his count was accurate. Well, duh, who would admit to making a slow-ass count? Tell me, who?!? That's right, nobody. But back to the match. Fejona slowly rose to her feet, eyes transfixed on the legs of Azrael Asesino. She had worked over them a little bit over the course of the match, and now, it was time to go back to the intended strategy. Smirking, Fejona shot herself into the ropes and as she rebounded off of 'em, sickeningly connected with a double-footed stomp to the right knee of Azrael! Vile. Just vile. Fejona didn't think so, obviously, as she continued to kick away at that right knee of Asesino whilst taking alternating kicks to the left knee. Purely for good measure. Azrael naturally writhed about on the canvas, feeling his title slip away from him. So, when Fejona leaned down to pull him up by the hair, Asesino struck with an uppercut. One that sent Min reeling halfway across the ring. Gave Azrael enough time to drag himself up, despite his wounded legs. That small opening gave the Mexican Angel the idea that another execution of JUDGMENT was in order, and he went for it. Yes, Azrael didn't debate his own choices for very long, unlike some crazy people I know. Trouble was, as he closed in on Fejona with a kick aimed at her ribs, the Cambodian Femme Fatale used her brilliant mind to great effect and killed Azrael Asesino's hopes of winning. Firstly, by parrying the kick. Secondly, by scooping the Champion up and driving him down to the canvas in a scoop pump-handle slam. And finally, by locking in an unescapable kneebar submission with the right knee of Azrael's coming under immense pressure. All occuring in quick succession, and with extreme precision. You can call this, THE FATAL COMEUPPANCE! The fans tried to rally around Azrael. They really did. But with Fejona pulling back on the leg (and knee) of Asesino, there was really no recourse for Azrael. With the bitter reality of the situation staring him in the face, Azrael Asesino resigned himself to one simple action. TAP. TAP. TAP. THIRD & FINAL FALL: FEJONA MIN The darkness was here. The era of evil had arisen. Fejona Min had triumphed over the forces of good, and as she relinquished her deadly submission hold, the Cambodian Femme Fatale grinned from ear to ear. The cursed Scorpion Figfhting Title was thrust into her possession by the referee, who immediately went back to check on Azrael. The crowd were silent for a while. Then, they jeered their fucking hearts out. They hated this. They hated the fact that Fejona had been able to best Asesino. Now the NEWWWWW Scorpion Fighting Champion, Fejona bowed to the fans, before pulling a piece of paper out from inside her pants and throwing it down to Azrael. What was up with that? Nobody knew. Fejona wasn't telling, either, for she had taken her leave from the ring. She'd redeemed herself, and in the best way possible. For Azrael Asesino? Valiant effort, but it wasn't nearly enough. On this night, the Rogue Slayer had found the form that made her such a revelation in theAsylum. And now, having found that spark again, Fejona Min could only get better & better. Scary thought, innit? Be frightened, folks. Be... very afraid. Winner and New Scorpion Fighting Champion > Fejona Min
Where Do We Go From Here, Part Two
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jimmy Boyd. "Well...I did like, build this place Brian." Carter and Boyd had a history...once upon a time Boyd and Dunn won their company back from the phycho Ethan Winters, and then, even thought they were warned against it, they sold it on to Brian Carter to take to the next step, to which he did...until unfortunate incidents like Charlie Dunn's death and a plane crash left them in their current predicament. "Actually I'm glad you are here to witness some deja vu, which is me taking the reigns of this wholesome company once again, doesn't it just ring of 2003 Jimmy?" Boyd looked into Carter's eye, the change in the man was indescribable. "You know, whatever happens tonight, is for the best, whether it's your company by the end of the night, or if it's Laguna, I know that destiny has some twists left up her sleeve, and like always, I'm here to enjoy the ride." Carter smiled. "I'm going to be the only one playing trump cards tonight Jimmy, don't you worry about that."
FINE
MANS GAUNTLET As Relentless came back from the latest ad distributed by ACW, the sensual sound of the entrance music of Kelly Flawless was playing. ‘The Cover of the Rolling Stone’ by Doctor Hook set the tone, as out of the back, dressed in his finest attire walked Kelly Flawless. Winner > No Contest
Where Do We Go From Here, Part Three
Dante Inferno smirked underneath the shadow to which his large black hoody created, as Jericho posed him the question, both men standing outside of the arena, initially rejected entrance into the arena, even though if they wanted to get in, they would. "Jericho, you have to realize, for a leader to truly lead, he has to set an example, why should I follow a man into the battlefield when he, himself cannot gather the will to fight himself." Inferno had a point, but whether Jericho agreed, was another thing. "He will not be happy with your decision." Inferno rested his head against the wall he was leaning against. "The phrase "like it, or lump it" comes to mind especially Jericho, as this will be my attitude towards his." As half of Pandora stood outside of the arena, contemplating the validity of their owner's leadership qualities, the two men whom stood there didn't truly know where fate would take them if indeed their owner failed in his proposed plan...but what fate knew, was that these two men's destiny was more intertwined than you could ever imagine. You can only come to the morning through the shadows...and these two men, in their past, present and future, will encounter more dark places than you could ever imagine. But soon, you won't have to imagine.
Preparation
NO
DISQUALIFICATION MATCH “Fight With Seymour” by The Black Mages began to play, signaling to fans that it was time for the evening’s No Disqualification match. Sure enough, Seymour Almasy emerged from behind the curtain moments after the song ended. The slight Final Fantasy was ready for war, as evidenced by the Singapore cane and steel chair that he held. The crowd applauded, as Almasy purposefully power-walked to the ring, sliding his weaponry inside before him. Winner > Seymour Almasy
A Stitch In Time
“Damn, son, what the hell happened to you,” asked one. “You look like you tried to break out of prison!” Almasy sighed, and responded to the head shake with one of his own. “I’m not here for a lecture. Just patch me up, Doc.” The medic gestured to a cot on the floor, which Seymour laid on, while the medical personnel rummaged through his bags. “This is going to take more than a couple of stitches. Your forehead’s busted open pretty bad, and your right arm’s a mess. Any requests before we start sewing you back up?” Seymour thought about the question for a moment, and then smiled. “Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. You got a monitor in this little triage center where I can watch the event?” One of the other medics nodded, and turned on a television set. Seymour instantly relaxed, eyes focused on the TV, trying not to look as the needle entered his flesh again and again. He might have just managed to wrestle in a match involving barbed wire, but he was still the squeamish sort. But soon, he would have something he could focus on. That night’s Television Championship match. Because, once Seymour was stitched up and ready to go, the champion would be paid a visit by the Final Fantasy. A visit that Seymour hoped would be very fruitful indeed.
First Two, Now Three Of Them, O'God
Tonight, theNormans had there game plan, and that game plan included them walking away New ACW Tag Team Champions. Watch, Witness, and you will believe. But, on to other topics, theNormans had a gift for there fans here tonight at Relentless. “Don’t Know Why” By Swollen Members Erupted on the PA system, as the crowd began there unwelcoming boos towards theNormans. Donavon and Trevor stepped out in there street clothes, as they stood in the middle of the ramp. Donavon waved towards the technicians to cut the music, as the crowd kept up with the disrespectful boos towards theNormans. “Alright, check this out our loyal fans, tonight we have a special gift for ya. No it’s not a new Offense for your team Jacksonville Jaguars.” “We
Want Splink!” “Hey, shut up, and listen, don’t be calling out some mere rats, we don’t want to kick there ass right now, we’ll save that for later.” A bunch of fans in the crowd, burst out in laughter, as Donavon jumped up on the ropes and screamed out on them. Trevor walked over and picked up the mike that Donavon dropped. “Your laughs don’t bother us, but your faces do.” Trevor laughed at his own comment. “But, back to the point, we though since tonight were going to win the Tag Team Titles, we need to spice up the Gods of The Tag World, yeah us theNormans, damn straight, we picked the name ourselves.” Trevor got cutoff as the crowd opened up with another chant. “YOU
BOTH SUCK!!” Donavon grabbed the mike from the hands of Trevor. “HEY!….that’s no way to treat the God’s of The Tag World, give us respect, give us your damn loyalty….oh fuck it, your all hopeless. Were just going to get to the point, because we have enough time wasting it on you people.” Donavon and Trevor looked behind them, as a girl, probably 20 years old, stepped out from the back. “Let us introduce, the young and beautiful, our sister, Ashley Norman.” Ashley waved to the crowd, as she got a better reaction then theNormans could ever get. “Tonight, we though we would bring our little sister, to this disgusting town, and once again Ashley I do apologize, ACW wouldn’t change the location…..to witness us, win the tag team titles, and we got her a front row seat, VIP.” Donavon and Trevor showed Ashley to her seat, as Donavon lifted her over the guard rail into her seat. Ashley sat down, as theNormans showed her off to the crowd for a few minutes. “We will be back, in a bit, anybody gives her any grief, your going to be dealt harshly by The Gods Of The Tag Team World………theNormans, you all got that.” Donavon dropped the mike, as him and Trevor made there exit from the ring area as “Don’t Know Why.” by Swollen Members blared on the PA system.
Where Do We Go From Here, Part Four
There was a point in last 2003, and even early 2004, where Keller was in the darkest of places...places so dark, that not even he truly knew where he was, but reflecting back on himself, he was truly over it...free from all his demons. Except one. That word... ... "Potential." It was a tag he had never escaped from, along with "bastard", "fuck face", "creep", "scum of the earth" and his own personal favourite, "pig fucker". But seriously, Khristain Keller is world title material wasn't he? Of course he is. And sooner rather than later, the whole world will understand that Khristain Keller, for all the wise cracks, for all the jokes and all the fun times, Khristain Keller is one hell of a wrestler. Tonight, starts the KELLER-A.
Believe the hype, chumps
ACW
TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH July 6th, 2003, ACW had crowned the first ever Tag Team Champions El Janitors, but due to problems on December 7th, 2003 El Janitors were stripped of the Tag Team Championships. But, that was the past, and this is now. Tonight ACW would crowned new Tag Team Champions, and either Splink or theNormans would walk out with flashy gold around there waist. “We are the demons from the bottomless pit here on earth to create havoc and terror. I am War, he is Death, and together we are your soon to be Tag Team Champions.” After the voice began to fade out on the PA system, it what cut off by “Don’t Know Why” By Swollen Members. How
come I don’t use soap I sit in the bath cup of coffee It was Time, as both Normans made there Grand Entrance from the back, and stepping out in front of a hateful crowd. The Normans name wasn’t that big, but they had made sure a few people hated them so far. Donavon just shrugged his shoulders, and gave the crowd a bow, very respectable, even though the crowd didn’t give the respect to theNormans, that they deserved. ……..But, what could you do, its hard for the slow minded to clue in, and praise the two gods that walked in front of them. Parent takes a lesson; theNormans are the best role models you could want. Donavon reeked of booze, and Trevor reeked of cigarette smoke, Great combination. Finally they had made to the ring; you couldn’t tell if Donavon was drunk or sober, after his slowly walk towards the ring. But, it was finally time for the Dear Loved Splink to make there way down to the ring. “Going Underground” had erupted on the System, and out walked SLAPNUTZ and TMM better known as Splink. The crowd had quickly got to there feet, as SLAPNUTZ walked out with Snorbitz and TMM trailing behind. Pyros filled the arena, startling Snortbitz, making him shit right on the entrance ramp. SLAPNUTZ and TMM just stared at the dog, and quickly made there ways away from the stench surprise that Snortbitz had just left the ring crew to clean up. SLAPNUTZ tied Snortbitz to the turnbuckle post, as Splink made there way into the ring, as theNormans made there exit. TheNormans stood beside there sister, that they had given special VIP seat too. SLAPTNUTZ eyed out Ashley Norman the sister of theNormans, as Donavon yelled back at SLAPNUTZ to keep his eyes off of his Sister. The ref got into the ring and pointed for SLAPNUTZ to get on the apron, and Trevor to step into the ring. TMM and Trevor both stood in the ring, as the ref had signaled for the bell. While SLAPNUTZ kept licking his lips at Ashley, while Donavon freaked out on the other side of the apron. TMM and Trevor locked up in the middle of the ring, but Trevor quickly took advantage with an eye gouge on TMM, followed by a clothesline putting him to the mat. Trevor quickly applied a sleeper hold, to try and wear down TMM. TheNormans knew that if they want to win this match, they best way were to be cheap, and not letting splink get on the upper advantage of the match. You knew, what would happen if theNormans let either one of Splink get in strike distance, they might forget there in ACW and not tA anymore. Trevor tightened his grip on the throat of TMM. TMM fought back, as he slammed his fist repeatly into the canvas, trying to give momentum to himself, but Trevor put a stop to it when he brought his knee to the gut of TMM. Trevor released the hold and brought TMM to his feet and whipped him into the side turnbuckle were his Brother Donavon awaited the tag. Donavon stuck his hand out, to make the tag with Trevor, as both theNormans stood in the ring, as the both started to release a fury of boots on TMM, and then following up with a double team suplex, as Donavon made the quick cover. …1.. .. But, TMM quickly kicked out of the pin at the one count. Donavon grabbed TMM by the hair and Irish whipped him into the ropes, and then connected with a drop kick to the chest of TMM putting him to canvas once again. Donavon got up slowly but very cocky and grabbed TMM by the hair and brought him to his feet. Donavon grabbed TMM and brought him right in for a belly to belly suplex. TMM clutched his back, as Donavon sat on his ass in the middle of the ring, and looked at SLAPNUTZ. “EX-Fighter wannabe‘s, don’t stand a chance in the wrestling business!” Donavon directed it right towards SLAPNUTZ, as he just brushed it off, as Donavon got to his feet and turned around and picked up TMM. Donavon whipped TMM right into the turnbuckle and then charged and hit a splash on TMM, TMM stumbled forward right into Donavon, as he followed up with a pile driver, and went for the pin. ..1... ..SLAPNUTZ got into the ring, ..2. SLAPNUTZ kicked Donavon right in the back of the head to break up the pin, as Trevor jumped into the ring, and went at SLAPNUTZ only to get clobbered with his fist, and knocking Trevor back and out of the ring. Donavon got to his feet holding the back of his head, as he looked right at SLAPNUTZ, but didn’t get a chance to get out of the way as SLAPNUTZ hit him with a knee to the stomach, followed very painful looking DDT in the middle of the ring. Donavon grabbed his head in pain, as the ref pushed Slapnutz back out of the ring. With the interruption of SLAPNUTZ, it gave TMM a chance to regain himself and get back to his feet, as Trevor pulled himself into the ring. Trevor realized TMM was back up and made a charge towards TMM, but TMM just stuck his shoulder out sending Trevor flying over the top rope, and to the concrete floor, as TMM waited for Donavon to get up onto his feet. The Crowd started too erupted with cheers, as Donavon stumbled to his feet, right into TMM. Donavon received a Russian leg sweep from TMM, as TMM went for the first pin by Splink of the night. ..1.. .. ..2. . The pin got broken up as Trevor pulled TMM out of the ring, as Trevor went to throw a back hand chop against the chest of TMM, but TMM blocked it, and delivered a kick to the stomach of Trevor. TMM grabbed Trevor by the back of the head, and slammed him head first into the guard rail. SLAPNUTZ watched Donavon get to his feet as he entered the ring, and charged at Donavon with a clothesline, except Donavon got a chance this time and ducked, as SLAPNUTZ hit the ref, right out of the ring, knocking him out. SLAPNUTZ quickly turned around, and caught Donavon’s fist, and hit him with a clothesline, as SLAPNUTZ put Donavon in the Cross Face Chicken wing right in the middle of the ring, except with out a ref, there was nobody around to end the match, and plus SLAPNUTZ wasn’t the illegal man in the ring. On the outside TMM picked Trevor up and pushed him on top of the table, and climbed up as TMM picked Trevor up and set him up as he hit a Death Valley driver…. SMASH Trevor body crashed threw the table, as the crowd erupted with chants towards Splink. “SPLINK” Trevor laid limp less, in the wreckage of the table, as TMM made his way into the ring holding his shoulder. Donavon was almost passed out in pain, as SLAPNUTZ kept the hold applied, until TMM got into the ring, and SLAPTNUTZ let go. It didn’t look good for theNormans at this point as TMM got outside on the apron as the ref pulled himself into the ring. SLAPNUTZ got ready to make the pin, except Ashley caught his eye on the outside of the ring, as she was trying to help Trevor up. SLAPNUTZ called to her, as she looked up, and point at himself, as he walked over to the ropes and got up on the top turnbuckle, and got ready to lunge off and onto Donavon for the win. While TMM got off the apron, and walked towards the titles as the match was over. TMM stood in front of the titles, as he polished them with his fingers as SLAPTNUTZ started to jump but got distracted by the cleavage of Ashley Norman, and went face first into the canvas. Donavon
took the chance and got slowly up, and grabbed SLAPTNUTZ and hit…. SLAPTNUTZ was out for the count as he head just met the canvas with much force. Donavon slowly threw his arm over the chest of SLAPNUTZ, hoping for the end. TMM slowly started to turn around, and realize what happened, as he med a leap for the ring, except. CRACK A have daze Trevor ended that as he brought a chair to the face of TMM. ..1... … .2. … …3.. It was over, and the Normans had done it, they were the new ACW Tag Team Champion. Trevor dropped the chair on the outside right beside TMM, as he used the ropes and pulled himself up onto the aprons, and helped Ashley into the ring. Donavon got to his feet slowly, as the ref brought in there newly won title belts. He handed them to Trevor and Donavon as the raised them up high in the air, as Ashley stood in the middle of them holding up there other hands. The crowd booed at the sight of them, not two Normans, but three of them. theNormans made there exit from the ring, as “Don’t Know Why” By Swollen Members played over the PA system as Donavon untied Snorbitz from the turnbuckle, and let him loose, as the made there exit up the entrance to garbage being throwing at them. Winners And New ACW Tag Team Champions theNormans. Winner and New ACW Tag Team Champions > theNormans
Everything. And More.
Everything was going smoothly in her life. Business, in the non-wrestling sense, was thriving. In the wrestling sense? Also good. Want evidence? I point you to the newly-won Scorpion Fighting Title that was now hanging on her shoulder. Sure, the title may not mean much to those who are industry critics, but all you need to do is remember who have held the Scorpion Fighting Title in the past. Quinton May? Current heartthrob of the ACW fans. Vincent Pembridge? The man who started the whole 'evil fucking bastard' thing, some would say and without any arguement. Keegan? An accomplished master of the sport, and all-around nice guy after a period of darkness. Phil Atken? A genius at comic humour and the Grand Poobah of Sexiness. No questions asked, fuckers. So, yes. It was an established list of past title-holders, and now, Fejona Min had her hands on the belt. Back on track, in her mission to become incredibly fucking famous. It's an ego thing, you know. Nonetheless, the Cambodian Femme Fatale couldn't deny that she was made to work very hard to oust Azrael Asesino. As she walked down the hallway that would lead to her locker-room, though, Min knew. She knew that this was Azrael Asesino's last night in ACW. Not because the latter would be absolutely dejected with having lost to the Rogue Slayer. Nah, he's not that petty. It had to do with the scrap of paper that Fejona mysteriously passed to Azrael, once the dust had settled and Fejona had officially claimed victory. Once the former Asylum Women's Champion (although she technically still is the Champ, having never lost the belt!) reached her locker-room, however, she found that her door was slightly ajar. Oooh, spooky. Fejona's first thought? Jenna McMullen, our esteemed Backstage Correspondent, was waiting inside. With a dildo. And some whipped cream. Ah, we can all dream, can't we? Lord knows I'd get hard just writing some girl-on-girl action. But, hey, don't rule that out just yet. Anyways, with a tinge of cautiousness setting in, Fejona Min forced herself to be alert, and quite expertly sidekicked her door open before rushing in. It didn't matter to Fejona that she was tired from having fought an extremely tough match just a short while ago; if there was an intruder in her room, the Cambodian was going to take whoever it was down and knock the uckfay outta 'em. "What are you, crazy? Normal people don't kick down doors." Natalie Quinston remarked, as Fejona's eyes finally set upon her former partner seated at the table. Composing herself, Fej closed the slightly dented door and tossed her newly-won title down onto the nearby couch. Yes, Fejona did get an upgrade in locker-room furbishments. What of it? "Oh, Natalie. I didn't expect to see you here. Just got a little paranoid, I suppose. Don't like my doors to be ajar. What are you doing here, anyways?" Sense the tension yet? No? Fuck you. There was an assload of tension in the room now, and it was odd for longtime followers of Fejona Min. Having been partners for almost a year now (on-camera, at least; they have been in collusion for well over a year now if you count OSF!), the two had a sudden falling out. Fejona had failed to share critical information with Natalie, and the former therapist felt betrayed. Extremely betrayed. And so, the two cut off all ties that existed between each other. Makes sense. It's a woman thing, y'know. They're all super-sensitive and shit. "I just wanted to... congratulate you. Second title in less than a year." Natalie responded, exchanging wily looks with Fejona, who grinned. Natalie had a point, and Min looooved the point. "Looks like the mission we started on is really going well without me by your side, huh? Also wanted to ask if I could get my stuff from Nigel's (read: Fejona's boyfriend) mansion. I got far too comfortable there and left a lot of things laying around. Figure it's only right that I pick it up, but also figured that I'd ask you first. Since we both know you're a busy woman and I can't get in there without your clearance." Fejona nodded her head, and actually sighed a little. She hated how things had turned out with Natalie, and figured that she and Nat would be friends forever. They'd shared so much in the short time they'd known each other, that Fejona regarded Natalie as a sister of sorts. The fact that the two had a bond like that made the whole split more difficult to deal with, as far as Fejona was concerned. Especially when her time with her real family... was limited. That, of course, is another story for another day. Or, you could just take a gander at Fejona's bio. Whichever works. "Right. Okay, sure. But, before we get to that, I have something very important to tell you. It's more important than breaking a nail, and I know you think breaking a nail is a matter of the highest importance, so... yes. I just hope you don't perceive it as something hoakey." Fejona spoke up, after taking a couple of moments to think it over. Natalie simply leaned back in her seat and folded her arms, nodding her head curiously to give Min the go-ahead to continue. Fejona did just that, right after she walked right over to Natalie and crouched down next to her. Ooooh, were we going to see a saucy kiss? No, not likely. But hey, pay me $20 and I'll make it happen someday. Honest. Anyways. The revelation, yes. Fejona took a deep breath before getting on with it. "That thing with McMillan a few weeks back? It came out of the blue. He approached me, just to talk things over and ask for my help. In return, I told him that I wanted him to keep an eye on you... and just as the words came out of my mouth, you walked in on us. Thing was, I didn't want you to fight Quinton. I was afraid. Seeing what he did to you at KING OF AGES made me realise that Quinton had a defined meanstreak, and he especially hates you since you and him have more of a history. I wanted McMillan to make sure that no matter what, you two wouldn't fight. He was quite unwilling to have that happen, though. So, once I heard that you and May were indeed going to lock horns, I had to turn to... God's Forgotten Son. Told him to take you out of the game, even if for a week. As long as it meant that you and May didn't fight. I felt horrible having had to resort to such a thing, but I realised that it had to be done. Of course, you being YOU... typical Natalie, finally found a way to fight Quinton. And I was actually on hand with McMillan, talking over his proposal again. Right after you and Quincy started to duke it out, I was sincerely thinking that I would go down to the ring and stop it myself. Or, offer myself to Joseph. You know, in... that way. But seeing how you actually held your own, I also came to another conclusion. One I have not bothered to come to terms with. You have become what you've always wanted. You have succeeded in becoming a respectable competitor. All along, in tA and in ACW so far, I kept telling you that you needed to buck up because you were still unpolished. Now, I know better. And I'm sorry I didn't let you in on whatever was going on. But it all happened on the spot, the thing with myself and Joseph. I was surprised he even approached me." Wow. Talk about a god-damn mouthful, eh? I'm surprised the woman can even breathe normally now, having rambled all of that in one sitting. Needless to say, Natalie Quinston was mighty stunned. Partially at how quickly she'd jumped to conclusions about Fej and Joseph McMillan having something plotted all along... but also at how the attack by GFS was actually ordered by Fejona herself. Sure, GFS sorta owed Fejona for the latter helping him win the KOA... well, that again is another story for another sunshiny day, ahem. But this, Natalie thought was unreal. At least, though, Natalie could take comfort that the Cambodian hadn't betrayed her. And so, with a warm smile, Natalie leaned forward. Awww, they were hugging. Mmm, boobies brushing up against each other. So much for the tension earlier on. "I... am sorry that I misjudged you." Natalie mustered softly. Fejona shook her head. "Don't be. This things happen. I'm sorry for having you taken out by GFS. But I'm happy that we're okay now. We *ARE* okay, right?" Breaking their embrace, the two women stood to their feet, and Natalie vigorously nodded her head. "Yes, we are. I just feel... so foolish for having jumped to conclusions like that. I should have trusted you. I should have known that you wouldn't keep something like that from me, after all we've been through." "It's alright. I'm just sooo happy that you and I are cool again. Because, you know, I think I could use your company right about now. Celebrating alone doesn't seem right to me." Fejona responded with a wry smile, pointing at the Scorpion Fighting Title. Natalie giggled, and the two women hugged once again. Geez, women always need to hug all the focking time. SO, I guess an interruption is warranted, eh? You got it. "Fejona. I need you. NOW." Nope, that wasn't Natalie. The voice that said it? Manly. Definitely not effeminate. And the words were laced with urgency. Breaking the embrace again, Fejona spun around... and found JOSEPH MCMILLAN standing in the doorway. Natalie Q exchanged looks with Fejona, and stared at Joseph. "So, uh, what's this deal you and him agreed upon? Does it have... anything to do with tonight? You know, Steel Cage with Quinton?" Fejona bit her lower lip as she motioned Joseph to come in with her hand. Being blind and all, Joseph walked right in. Wait, what? Oh yeah, that thing about being able to see without having the proper tools. Yeah, makes fucking sense, ahem. McMillan? He just had one other thing to say. Something that would underline how extremely important his showdown with Quinton May tonight was. "It has everything to do with tonight."
No Other Way Out.
Your Gruesome End.
Whaddaya know? We're in the boiler-room of the arena. And you know what THAT means. Joseph McMillan, ladies and gentlemen. Formely known as 006.392 and once upon a time, was a young upstart slowly developing into a gritty competitor. Whilst fighting alongside the hottest thing in ACW at the time -- Quinton's Army. Pacing around a chair in the middle of the room, Joseph continued on with his pre-match banter (with himself). "For many months, as I lay in a hospital bed and confronted the fact that I could no longer see actual colour, I wondered when would be the day I'd be able to exact my deserved vengeance. I had my life taken away from me. I've said it before. This isn't the life I envisioned myself leading. Now, though, aside from my unique sense of sight using the matter that created each and every one of us, imagining things is the only salvation I have. The only outlet I have available to conjure up how sweet my revenge will be, once I fulfil the neccessary preparatory steps. Tonight, the preparation climaxes." Unfortunately for Joseph, something horrid happened. The war between the British Army (headed by the incomporable Vincent Pembridge) and Quinton's Army ended in bloodshed. Let's just say, baby go KA-BOOM, and lives were lost. Quinton was the only one who survived without any immediate side-effects. Joseph? He lost his eyes in the explosion, and was plunged into a comatose state for a while. Upon waking up, McMillan came to find out about how he would never be able to see again. And for someone of that tender age, without any family or friends, you can discern how difficult it was for Joseph to come to terms with what had happened. "Tonight, I will take a step in the right direction, and right the ultimate wrong." Joseph resumed, as his pacing slowed down by quite a bit; it was more methodical now. "I, the Blind Slayer, will fulfil my true destiny. A man who has taught me so much in so many different aspects has turned out to be the miscreant I must expel. He thinks I am following the orders of a higher power. He is only partially correct; this higher power does have a vested interest in him, yes. But this... this is purely MY cause to fight. I am the one who has suffered. I am the innocent victim. I am the one who has been wronged. I am the one who has been denied the chance to live a normal life. I am the one stuck in limbo... neither here or there, and with nothing to look forward to. No family. No friends -- save for those who are aiding me in my cause. No prospects in life, except this spectacle loosely termed as... wrestling. BAH! This isn't how I expected MY life to turn out. But it has. And now, I have no other option. Except to make the best of it, and take advantage of the fact that I have insight into the mind of the man that did this to me. I know his moves. I know how he thinks. I know what means the most to him. He... knows nothing about me. He doesn't know that although tonight will be the first night I step foot into the ACW ring for official competition in slightly less than a year, that I have indeed been honing my skills elsewhere. Taking on all comers, despite of my blindess. As I've said before, I have learnt to adjust to my condition & turned it into a blessing. Finally, that blessing will aid me in the culmination of what is deservedly mine. Vengeance. Quinton May... for many a month, I fought by your side simply because you handpicked me to be a part of your mission. No more do I fight your cause. ... Tonight, you shall meet your gruesome end." Having stopped pacing around the chair, Joseph McMillan lowered his head and took a deep breath in. What lay ahead was the single most important event in his life. His quest for Quinton's head? Oh, it was consuming every fibre of his being. And he was definitely on edge. Within a blink of an eye, McMillan raised his foot and obliterated the poor chair that he was standing in front of. Pieces of the steel crumbled onto the floor, and Joseph turned, making his way toward the door. It was go-time, people. Joseph was mere seconds away from stepping into the ring against his former mentor and father-figure. And as he hastily exited the boiler-room, it appeared he would not be alone for this fight. For there was Fejona Min, waiting for Joseph. Exchanging knowing looks (Fejona was used to the pupil-less eyes of 'Seph), the twosome hurried down the hallway, more than ready to wage war against the one man they swore they would eradicate from the face of this planet. This is going to be a fight to the finish, folks. Be prepared for... a lot of mayhem.
Gods Of The Tag Team World
The back door to the arena, swung open as Donavon popped out with his newly won title in one hand, and a bottle of Jack Daniels in the other. Trevor followed with his title, and a cigarette and a have polished off bottle of Jack Daniels. Typical Normans, drunk as usually. “Fall Of Adam no problem, and Splink No Problem.” Trevor mumbled out in drunkenness, as Ashley was the last to exit the arena. Trevor and Donavon stumbled in the parking lot, shouting out in happiness. Many people probably couldn’t believe, that theNormans could defeat a team like Splink, but they had, and there journey to greatness had just begun, they were the New ACW Tag Team Champion, and today was the beginning of a New Era for them, which meant total drunkenness was about to happen. “You know Ashley, what we need is…is…you as our manager.” Donavon stutter a bit, as he fell into the car. “Yeah.” Trevor got into the car next. Ashley didn’t say a word, as she jumped in Driver, as the though was on her mind, but right know, she just need to get theNormans away from the arena. As the car started to move, Donavon rolled down his window, and chucked the Jack Daniel Bottle back at the arena. “We showed you Jacksonville!” The car left the parking lot as Trevor said his Farwell. “Remember
The Gods Of The Tag Team World, for we are on the rise to stardom!”
There are many an event in life that completely alter the course of existence. For two men, one example would be the formation of a brotherhood that would see the men involved carry forward that bond into a totally unimaginable realm, and the subsequent recruitment of fresh blood. In simpler terms and to put it all into context; Quinton's Army, and the first actual recruitment drive. ----- Courage - March 09 2003 In any case, everybody who were taking the chance to visit the toilet were giving QA weird glares. Probably thought Quincy and El Janitors were desperate perverts who really needed BJs. Then, as one particular kid came out of a toilet, wearing a 'I NEED A BJ' t-shirt, Quinton's eyes gleamed... and he promptly stopped the kid in his tracks. Morris and Howard quickly dropped to their knees, opening their mouths, ready to perform. Frowning, the QA dictator told his men not to consider giving the kid a BJ. "Kid, what's your name?!" Quinton demanded. "J-J-Joseph..." the fifteen year old started to stammer, before May held his left hand up in the air, to interrupt. "PERFECT!" Morris & Howard looked at each other, confused, while Joseph the fifteen year old kid began to piss his pants, despite having JUST come out of the toilet; this whole situation was scaring the bejesus out of him. "J-J-Joseph, your name is now 006.392 and you're the latest member of QUINTON'S ARMY! YAY! CLAP, YOU GOONS!" And as requested, El Janitors began clapping, while Joe stood there, utterly confused. Not seeing a reaction from his latest member, Quinton slapped 006.392 and knocked him out in the process. He had said that he'd recruit a new member. And hell, he did it. ----- A day which will live in infamy, that. For Joseph, at least. What happened from then on? Too much to really go into detail, but then again, too much to ignore. Looking back, those early days of 2003 were simpler times. Disregarding the main players in ACW, of course. Lest we forget, Ethan Winters ending up dead later that same month. And, oh, the arrival of one British Degenerate to turn the whole company on its head? Yes, that last one actually has some linkage to the relationship between Quinton May, and young Joseph McMillan. Let's review, shall we? Quinton forms QA with Morris and Howard. Quinton recruits Joseph and the codename 006.392 is awarded to the young man, who is essentially taken away from his family. QA begins to garner worldwide adulation, while beginning a war with Vincent Pembridge and his gang. During which, McMillan's parents -- concerned motherfuckers -- sue Quinton for kidnapping. Smart move, yes? Somehow, during the trial (which almost had an interim QA member, Ron Williams, being the accused because of tomfoolery of Quinton's part), it was revealed that Joseph's parents were horrible people who were thinking of off-ing their son anyways. Bizarre, innit? Quinton ended up becoming McMillan's legal guardian, aaand, QA rolled on. During the course of the next couple of months, Joseph ended up being a project of Quinton while being alienated from the real world; Joseph was living the life of 006.392 and that meant indulging in wacky missions. From learning the value of defeat to beating up Quinton as per the latter's orders (a lesson to be learnt!)... to Joseph going toe-to-toe with Pembridge himself. Joseph, of course, lost. But Quinton picked up the slack after that, fighting the good fight. And Joseph watched as the Canadian triumphed over ultimate evil. In the months to follow? QA continued to endure trials and tribulations, always managing to pull through in the end. But in late November of 2003, Vincent Pembridge's sacrifice overwhelmed his other shocking deed of the year, which was having a part to play in Bobby Knickerson's death (another QA member). In a brawl between QA and the British Army, Vincent lured everyone that mattered into the perfect position, and detonated a bomb. The result? The entire British Army was destroyed and Pembridge himself nearly died, going into a coma. Ditto for Morris and Howard and... yes, Joseph. The only one to make it out of there without any long-term setbacks or injuries? Quinton May. Surprising? Sure... but the trauma and the guilt lived on. Joseph woke up from his coma a few weeks later, more or less lucky to be alive. Problem? His sense of sight had been obliterated. He couldn't see anything but the darkness, and it didn't take long for the bitterness to set in. Joseph's normal life had been taken away in exchange for fighting the good fight alongside Quinton May. In the end, all it did was to render Joseph blind. Little did 'Seph know that at the time, there was someone waiting in the shadows, ready to show Joseph the way and unleash him on a little mission of vengeance. Once Joseph was allowed to leave the hospital, and since Quinton was too busy putting his life back together (his life meaning the one and only thing he could do -- wrestling), the young man was checked out by a certain RN. RN proceeded to train Joseph and nurse him back to health. In the process, RN also assisted Joseph in seeing, despite not being physically possible to do so. A little thing called the art of Nanjin, which enabled McMillan to reach a level of enlightenment, coupled with the understanding of the atmospheric laws governing this planet... meant that Joseph could visualise without being able to properly see. Nifty little trick, innit? No colours, but hey, the darkness that he had to accustomed to? It was now... all glaringly white. And tonight, it culminates. After having gone through a kidnapping and a clone situation, Quinton May has found out that a certain Fejona Min -- whom he once thought was someone he could trust -- was involved with some higher power. And that higher power eventually threw another shocker Quinton's way. That shocker, as you know, is Joseph McMillan himself. Thing is, Joseph insists that this revenge deal? He isn't doing it for anybody's sake, but himself. And Joseph doesn't know this, but Quinton has agreed to 'Seph's challenge of a standoff so that the Canadian stood a chance of rescuing the blind boy from the evil clutches of whoever brainwashed him. In McMillan's mind, he has gotten Quinton to a point where the Rising Star can no longer come to terms with all the sneaky surprises coming out from every nook and cranny. That's why we have the Steel Cage tonight. Oh, yes, Television Title on the line. It doesn't matter much, in the grand scheme of it all. It's student versus teacher tonight. Father versus son, in a way. Friend versus friend, in another way. Bottomline? Nobody would win. It was lose-lose... but damn, it was going to be a masterful fight nonetheless. * DING DING DING * "The following match, is a STEEL CAGE MATCH, for the ACW Television Championship. Introducing first, the challenger. He is the Blind Slayer. He boasts a record of 12 wins, 2 draws, and 1 single defeat in MALBORO PRO WRESTLING. Officially making his return to the ACW ring... and this time, not bounded by any faction. Ladies and gentlemen, accompanied by FEJONA MIN... ... JOSEPPPPPH MCMILLLAAAAAANN." Well. SO much for Joseph and Fejona claiming that their association ended when Joseph returned at the KOA PPV to screw Quincy out of glory, eh? Now we know. In any case, the blinding white lights were cued up, piercing the eyes of every single soul prior to the chime of the bell. Then, the stylings of "Kashmir" by Led Zeppelin. The Blind Slayer himself. Winless in all of his previous ACW matches, under the tutelage of Quincy Mama, Joseph was finally going to compete. Laguna had denied the young man to take part in matches the previous weeks, due to not really knowing what to make of the whole Joseph/Quinton situation. But then came the challenge, and Quinton's plea to Laguna to make it happen, since it had to. And this was the result. As the Steel Cage lowered from the rafters, Joseph McMillan brushed past the curtains, decked out in his white trenchcoat and white pants. His sledgehammer that he used to be sport around? 'Seph didn't have it with him tonight, but he sure as hell had Fejona Min following close behind. My oh my, look at that smug grin on her mug. How about Joseph's record, though, in the other promotion that he had worked for only since early July? Pretty damn impressive, eh? Everything about McMillan appeared to be impressive. Even his steely and focused walk down to the steel-engulfed ring. The young man was in the zone. Which, if you didn't know, is a very exclusive place to be. Joseph and Fejona reached the ring in record time, amid the cascading waves of jeers that were hovering above their heads like locusts. With one last look at each other, Fejona nodded, and Joseph entered the ring via the door of the cage, guarded by referee Pablo Rogers. As Joseph walked over to a corner of the ring, surveying the steel structure surrounding him, he knew that this match would only mean trouble for him and his opponent. And hey, guess what? Trouble was ready to rear its Canadian head. Zuh? Ahhhh. Now you know. Good for you. Anyways, the fans cheered with a deafening eruption at the sound-byte from Angel Season 2, before "Make A Move" by Lostprophets began blaring over the speakers. 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 ACW and their Television Champeen appearing before their very eyes. 32 seconds into the song, red and white pyrotechnics lit up the arena. KA - BOOOOM! There he was. Live in freaking colour, and ready to fight the good fight. Quinton May stepped from behind the curtains, his title belt wrapped around his waist. With fiery eyes and clenched fists, Quincy made his way down to the ring, almost overawed by the Steel Cage that awaited him. Quinton -- decked out simply in a pair of black jeans and black boots -- had not been involved in a Steel Cage match since April of 2003, in the climax of his battle with 108192. Tonight? So much more was at stake. Inside the ring, Joseph removed himself from his trenchcoat, and flung it over the cage. Wow, dude has incredible strength, eh? Dude also has a lot of hatred for Quinton, that much was already evident. From the second Quincy appeared, 'Seph was unable to take his eyes off of Quinton. The Canadian Gladiator, as he reached the ring and walked over to the cage door, glared at Fejona Min who quickly proceeded to move as far away as possible from Quinton. With a smirk, Quinton tossed his title to Rogers and climbed in. Pablo duly closed the door, and walked over to the timekeeper's table. This was it. Ground zero, baby. All the talk and hype had built up to this moment. Quinton and Joseph, stationed in opposite corners of the ring, looked at each other. One man had been waiting for this opportunity for many months, and the other was waiting for an intervention. Quinton didn't want to do this, deep down inside, but had to act like he did. All so that he could, somehow, save Joseph. McMillan didn't know this, as stated before. But there was one thing he did know, and was sure of; it was time. "FIGHTTTTTTT!" Yeah. It was on like Donkey Kong's grandmother now, bitches. The two men, so familiar with each other on the account of May having trained Joseph and the former being the latter's legal guardian and all, didn't stop their fixated stare at each other. Not even when they began to tread cautiously toward each other, the fans going absolutely apeshit at the tension that was building up. Just when it appeared that the Blind Slayer and the Canadian Gladiator, mere inches away from each other by this time, were about to lock up... Joseph spit at Quinton and lunged halfway across the ring, going for the door! Y'know, since escape is possible by exiting through the door OR climbing over and out of the cage. Smart move by McMillan, but Quinton recovered quickly and gave chase. Luckily for Quincy, he was able to catch Joseph by the legs, right when Joseph's upper-body was practically through the door! Fejona watched on, silently hoping that McMillan would be able to pull away from Quinton and crawl out of the cage, thereby winning the match in under one minute. Yeah, RIGHT, that's going to happen. Knowing that Quinton was not going to let go of his legs, Joseph twisted his body around and started firing away with clubbing forearms to the side of Quinton's head. Amazing feat, if you consider that the man is BLIND. But, hey, the studying of the Nanjin -- awesome equaliser. So was the Rising Star finally dragging Joseph away from the door, and to the middle of the ring much to the relief of the fans. Following which, the Canadian Gladiator was able to lift up his former protege, and after a little bit of adjustment, drove him down to the mat in a release powerbomb! Oh yeah, the fans loved that one. Joseph? Not so much, but you couldn't tell with him writhing on the canvas, cursing like a freshly-deflowered nun. So much for 'preparing for this night for a very long time', eh? Joseph wasn't looking so tough now, and this was just after one release powerbomb. Quinton kept his cool, though, taking a moment to glance at the tight-lipped Fejona on the outside... wary of her influence. Turning his attention back to Joseph, Quinton waited for the Blind Slayer to return to his feet, and Joseph did just that, suddenly shaking off any discomfort from the release powerbomb. May didn't wait for Joseph to turn around to face him, though; the Canadian grabbed McMillan by the shoulder in hopes of spinning him around. McMillan retaliated with a sharp reverse elbow smash to the face, though, and followed up with a spinning roundhouse kick to the ribs of May. Classy and sleek, all rolled in one. Quincy Mama was doubled over, and the Blind Slayer wasn't looking as if his blindness was hindering him too much in the ring. Shooting himself into the ropes, Joseph McMillan raised his right arm in the air, presumably to connect with a bionic elbow or something. Too bad we would never know, for May exploded from his doubled over position, and clotheslined the ever living snot out of McMillan! Joseph's spine bounced off the canvas like a basketball would bounce off a court, and the fans went all 'YAY' and shit. McMillan? Oh, he retained his composure and quickly pulled himself up, immediately finding Quinton waiting for him. What did the Canadian do? Why, he let fly with a standing roundhouse kick, silly. Joseph was able to evade it by bridging backwards, Matrix-style. Shades of Quinton himself there. May frowned as he went through the whole 360-spin, realising that Joseph really was a carbon copy of him in terms of in-ring mindset. This was further documented when 'Seph -- still bridging backwards and without placing his hands down onto the canvas to balance himself -- did something really special. Okay, maybe not. It was just an outside crescent kick to the side of May's face, almost beheading our beloved (ahem) Television Champion. While the latter staggered back, Joseph McMillan leaned forward, retaining a vertical balance... smiling just a wee bit at the jeers raining down on him. Fejona shouted something intelligible (Cambodian?) at that juncture, causing Joseph to shoot himself into the ropes. As he came off the ropes, the Blind Slayer struck with a spinning backfist to May's ribs. Before Quinton could even double over, Joseph followed up with a palm heel strike to the face, knocking Quincy into the ropes (and thereby, the cage wall!). The Castaway stumbled back into harm's way, & duly felt the wrath of Joseph's second spinning backfist -- FUCK THAT! Quinton caught Joseph's hand as it was barrelling towards his face at top speed, and after a little twist & yank, had McMillan trapped in an armbar... en route to a crossface submission! YAY! Alas, Joseph stood his ground, and despite being a relative lighweight, stood his ground pretty damn well. Quincy tried exerting more pressure, but got rammed in the ribs by Joseph's knee for his troubles. Staggering back, the Canadian suddenly found himself being lifted up by the young McMillan. Tilt-a-whirl? Indeed, but 'Seph let Quinton flow through the whirl, scoring with another knee-lift to the ribs of his former Dictator once the latter landed on his feet. With Quincy Mama more or less stunned, Joseph McMillan executed a front-face russian leg-sweep, with immense authority and still operating smootly despite his pupils being all white! Pulling out the big guns early on, eh? McMillan was probably thinking that if he could beat the M15 Survivor early on in this match, the humiliation would be much greater. Hence, the Blind Slayer racing to one of the four walls of the cage, and climbing to the top. With a little difficulty, Joseph's blindness actually proving to be a hinderance for the first time. But Joseph finally did aclimatised to the structure of the meshing of the cage, and swiftly made his way up the cage. Thing was, as he was just reaching the top, Quinton May had stirred back to life... much to the joy of the fans and the disdain of Fejona Min, viewing all the action unfold as a seeming impartial observer. In the ring, the Blind Slayer had his hands on the top of the cage, looking like he was a couple of seconds away from climbing over from the inside to the outside. Quinton, though, was giving chase and was doing so at top speed... and eventually caught McMillan by the waistband of his pants. Joseph turned his head to the side, as if he really could see plainly that Quincy was gaining ground on him. "You aren't going anywhere, 'Seph!" Quincy stated matter-of-factly, prior to using the ropes to catch up with McMillan. With a smirk, the Canadian rammed the inside of his forearm into the side of McMillan's head, halting the latter in his tracks. Quinton followed up by tugging on Joseph's hair and pulling the head backwards, a prelude to smashing the face of Joseph into the cage. Needless to say, Joseph was supremely rattled. And that was only the icing on the cake for Quinton, who then wrapped his hand around McMillan's throat, and.... CHOKESLAM OFF THE TOP OF THE CAGE (okay, close to it!) AND DOWN TO THE MAT! Quinton wasn't the only one who was going to take chances early on, eh? Taking advantage of their proximity to the top of the cage and the fact that Joseph was in the same weight-class as him, May pulled off the one move he probably wouldn't try to execute normally. The result? Welll, the 'HOLY SHIT! chants were starting up, albeit faintly. And how was 'Seph? Plastered to the canvas, not having moved an inch at all. Would YOU be able to move if you just took a trip to Canvas Funland the way Joseph did, hmmm? Anywho, Quinton -- who had also been rolling about on the canvas -- finally and quickly climbed to his feet, opting to pull McMillan up. Joseph immediately tried to retaliate with a cross hook from out of blinside, but the Castaway saw it coming, and parried it. Following which, May knocked Joseph senseless with a stiff swinging double axe-handle smash to the face. McMillan actually did try to evade it by sidestepping, but was too slow to draw... and found himself stumbling back. Taking a quick glance at Fejona, Quinton then took control of Joseph's arm and whipped him harshly into one of the corner turnbuckles. Invokation of whiplash effect? You've got it, brutha. Joseph danced out of the corner with his back arched and also, with no clue whatsoever as to what was going to happen. Quincy Mama helped him out in that aspect, lowering his body and taking McMillan up and over with a back body drop. Simple, yet oh-so-effective, ay? So, why weren't the crowd pleased? Let's just say, the disciple learned a HECK of a lot from his teacher, and Joseph landed on his feet. With a cooky grin on his face, McMillan swung his right elbow backwards, catching Quinton squarely in the face as the latter turned around, expecting 'Seph to be sprawled out on the canvas. With the momentum back in his favour after that quasi-chokeslam from the top of the cage, the Blind Slayer went to work. Not literally, of course, because he was already technically at work. Ah - ha? Uhm, yeah. So, anyways, Joseph shot himself into the ropes, bouncing off of 'em with a strategy already mapped out in his head. Quinton surely didn't bargain for a spinning inside crescent kick to knock him down to the canvas, but that's exactly what McMillan pulled out of his hat. Fans? Didn't like it. Fejona? Still feeding encouragement to 'Seph in some foreign language. Joseph was immensely composed, though, as he pulled Quinton up and actually HEADBUTTED the Canadian in the nose, prior to taking him back down to the mat in a over-the-shoulder armdrag. The Television Champion cringed as his spine got friendly with the canvas, but to his credit, Quinton quickly scrambled to his feet. Not that it would matter, for Joseph ran towards the ropes, spectacularly springboarded off the cage wall, and clocked Quincy Mama with a flying clubbing overhand forearm! Now, even if the hostile crowd didn't like Joseph McMillan, they sure as hell respected whatever the holy heck just transpired. Kipping to his feet and looking a lot like some mythical warrior, the sightless Joseph McMillan stalked towards the grounded Quinton May, who -- for the first time in a very long time -- was looking completely out of place and out of his element. Joseph continued to show no emotion, on the other hand, instead opting to drag Quincy up to his feet and apply a full nelson, from behind (duh!). Quinton had a feeling that Joseph was going to try and rip off the URBANE REPEALMENT, so the Canadian Gladiator hooked his right leg with Joseph's right, and stood his ground. This prevented Joseph from being able to lift Quincy off the canvas, and for a couple of seconds, McMillan couldn't figure out why. That's where Fejona chimed in with her breaking play-by-play. Quinton heard this and quickly reacted, driving the sole of his left boot into the shin of Joseph's left leg. Momentarily stunned, Joseph then had to deal with Quinton taking a few steps forward and springboarding off the cage wall! OOOOHs and AHHHHs resonated off the pillars of the area, watching the master of improv doing what he did best. Once it was said and done, Quinton landed behind Joseph. With their arms still interlocked, if you could believe it. Joseph couldn't. Quinton? Not so much, but he had no time to debate over how he did what he did. Swiftly and deliberately, Quintond drove his knee into Joseph's spine, before slapping on a rear facelock? Reverse DDT? Perhaps. May had other ideas. He lifted the Blind Slayer up as if he was going for a slightly lifted reverse DDT, but at the last second, stuck his left knee out and drove Joseph's spine onto that same knee! Snap, crackle, pop. That bloody had to hurt, and judging by the look on Joseph's face as he staggered away from the resurgent Quincy Mama, it definitely tickled more than just a bit. Quinton, backpedalling just a bit, dropped down to one knee. So obviously measuring up his former student and the boy he treated like his own flesh and blood. All of that was thrown out the window tonight, though, just like Quincy threw himself at Joseph once the latter turned around. Can you say, spear takedown? You can? GOOD FOR YOU, YA DUMB DUTCH GIGOLO! HAHA! ... Ahem. Sorry about that. Bottomline? Joseph was out on the canvas, his slightly smallish frame having been decimated by that calculated spear. Quinton wasn't about to stop there, though, and took control of the Blind Slayer's legs. What for, you ask? Why, to catapault Joseph up and over, directly into the corner turnbuckle, young Padawan. And when Quinton rolled to his feet, with Joseph already stumbling back toward him after having gotten his face acquianted with the corner turnbuckle, there was really only one damn thing to do. Not sure what that was? Let me spell it out for you, then; kick to the ribs, shoving of the head between his legs, double underhook of the arms. Oh, ho, YES. This was it! HIDEAWAY, motherfuckers! Rejoice, one and all! "QUINCY
MAMA!" That was it, bruthas and sistas. Joseph McMillan's resistance and his quest for vengeance? Done and dusted. Quinton May wiped the sweat off his forehead, with some of the fans still in disbelief over how quickly it had taken for May to practically wrap this baby up. As the Canadian Gladiator crawled towards the door of the cage, intending to settle it once and for all, there would be a twist. That twist came in the form of a lovely young Cambodian. Yeah, Fejona. She was at wits end now, and knew she had to react smartly here. Distract Quinton long enough, so that Joseph could recover. "So, is that the way it is, Quinton?" Fejona remarked as she shoved referee Pablo Rogers (he was guarding the door) out of the way. "After weeks of talk, you're just going to leave him laying there, beaten but not completely trounced? You think Joseph's not going to come hunting for you again, eh?" Quincy had no desire to listen to this dribble. So, he responded acutely. "Fuck off, cunt." "Ooooh, that's new, Quinton. But you know it as well as I do! Joseph is going to keep coming for you until you're shredded fish food. This one setback will not drag him down! It will only make him stronger, and fuel his confidence, not to mention his bloodlust. Go back in there and finish him off, if you've really got what it takes!" the Cambodian Femme fired back. And, y'know, the damndest thing happened. May stopped. The fans JEERED at this. Quinton already had half of his body out of the cage, when he suddenly stopped moving. Fejona closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, while Quinton -- as disgusted as he was with this revelation -- begrudgingly draged himself back into the ring. Oh, and might I add? Joseph had stirred back to life, and was already struggling to his feet. The crowd continued to hurl abuse at Fejona and question the decision of the Castaway, what with victory almost assured just a few seconds ago. May, though, concurred with Fejona Min. Joseph McMillan had to be absolutely trounced and put down for the count, for him to realise that this was a cause not worth fighting for. And as such, there was more work at hand. Possibly the reason why Quinton May suddenly charged at Joseph (from behind) and applied a cobra-clutch submission, hmm? Oh, wait. COBRA CLUTCH~! WHOOO. You better believe the fans loved the throwback to the golden ages, and what made it better was that Quinton had the hold cinched in perfectly and tightly. Nonetheless, Joseph McMillan -- arms flailing about and all -- still had enough in him to stagger back and drive Quinton into the cage wall! Still, though, May kept the hold locked in, desperate to lay 'Seph out. Since, you know, if Joseph was unconscious, Quinton could leave the cage relatively unopposed. There was somebody who hated that plan, and yes, that somebody was the new Scorpion Fighting Champeen herself. Once again, it appeared as if Fejona had a back-up plan, and she was going to implement it. How? Jesus, you lot are inquisitive bastards, aren't you? She climbed the outside of the cage just a tad bit, and with supreme force, smacked her newly-attained title belt into the cage. Right where Quinton's head was, having been pinned to the cage wall by McMillan. Steel and steel against flesh? Never a good thing, and May hollered out in agony. The force of Fejona's innovative interference, which she was being admonished for by Pablo Rogers, caused Quinton and Joseph to stumble away from the cage wall. McMillan, while quickly fading since the cobra clutch had been locked in for almost a whole minute now, had the presence of mind to lash out with a mule kick. The Canadian's crown jewels? Out of service for the moment, ahem. "BOOOOOOOOO!" went the usually blood-thristy fans. Indecisive assholes. But yes, Joseph followed THAT up with a front-face neckbreaker, saving himself from passing out. Didn't stop him from crumbling down to the mat, panting like a sick puppy. A lot had been taken out of the young boy as a result of that cobra clutch, but Quinton himself was sprawled out on the canvas, a little worse for wear. Fejona, meanwhile, backed away from referee Pablo Rogers, silently urging Joseph to get back up amid the fans screaming obscenities at her. Lovely role models for our kids, aren't they? Awww. Anywho, both McMillan and Quinton did finally rouse out of their mini-slumbers, this match having taken quite a bit out of both men already. Not that it showed, when they spun around and came face-to-face. Immediately, a slugfest erupted. Quinton threw the first punch but Joseph fired back quickly. Joseph, Quinton... Joseph, Quinton. OH, it was gripping shiznit. The kind you'd only see in porno flicks, if that makes any sense at all. So, yes, the slugfest continued, until Joseph blocked one of May's punches and thumbed him in the eye. Oh, the irony; blind man who can still somehow see poking another man with perfect vision in the right eye. Think of the ratings. Quincy's momentum had been halted, and Joseph was going ballistic with the punches as a result, now and then alternating with two kicks to the ribs. In short? Quincy Mama had become a punching back over the last thirty seconds. WHAM. WHAM. WHAM. McMillan refused to let up, until he got bored (and his own hand hurt from busting a cap in Quinton's bitch face). So, he took control of the Canadian's left arm and wringed it tightly, prior to whipping Quinton into one of the corner turnbuckles. REVERSAL! Yes, at the last second, Quinton sent Joseph flying face-first into the turnbuckle. The Blind Slayer sure as hell didn't see that coming (ha!), and when he turned around? Quinton May lunged at him, taking his former disciple down with his patented high-leg clothesline! Yeah, apeshit would be the word to describe the reaction. Joseph scrambled back to his feet, his pupil-less eyes widening in rage. Would THAT help? Not really, for Quinton expertly rolled to his feet and took the charging 'Seph down with an armdrag. And, hey, a redux never hurt, right? Indeed. How about a hiptoss? Classic routine by Quincy here, except for when a bamboozled Joseph McMillan landed on his feet from the hiptoss. Short-range retaliation clothesline by Joseph followed, but it did not find its mark, for Quincy ducked underneath it and trapped 'Seph in a rear waistlock. Uh oh. Uh oh. You know what this is. CANADIAN SUPLEX! McMillan's body bounced off the canvas, having been thrown up and over like a useless ragdoll. Quinton May didn't cease the assault there; CANADIAN SUPLEX, PART DEUX! The look on Joseph's face? It sorta said 'help me'. But there was nobody to help him, for May completed the hattrick of German/Canadian suplexes in fashionable style. And by that, I mean Joseph was laid out on the canvas, seemingly having been laid to rest. Quinton struggled to his feet, & raised his right arm in the air for his adoring fans. It was pretty damn certain now; May was close to clinching the win. With that in mind, the Castaway raced to a corner of the ring and used the turnbuckle structure to help him climb up the cage in record time. On the outside, Fejona panicked again... until Joseph sat up, all zombie-like and shit. There was no way the Blind Slayer was going to let Quincy win just like that. Rising to his feet, Joseph's speediness came into play here, and he too raced over to the turnbuckle, using it to try and play catch up. By this time, Quinton had just managed to get both his legs over, and was beginning his descent down the cage. Too bad about Joseph *just* catching him by his locks, though, eh? Utilising every bit of strength in his body and his bones, Joseph dragged the furious Quinton May back inside the cage, while the Blind Slayer himself ascended to the very top of the cage. Precarious position to be, especially for two lightweights. Heck, it was a dangerous place to be hanging out at for anybody, period. Exclaimation point, bolded, yadda. Joseph knew that the implications of hovering at the top of the cage were life-threatening. Both for him and Quinton. This was the deciding factor in McMillan wrapped May's head under his arm, and with a mighty heave, Joseph took the Canadian Gladiator for a ride, all the way down to HELL. "HOLY
SHIT!" BRAINBUSTER. OFF. THE. TOP. OF. THE. CAGE. DOWN. TO. THE. MAT. Tell me, have you ever seen brain matter splattered on the canvas? No? You people came very close to witnessing that tonight. In the middle of the ring, Quinton May lay dead, all his immediate friends already mourning the loss. Quinton was a great man. Really. Joseph? The blind motherfucker simply smiled, despite his body going into minor spasms from that display of daredevil-ness. It did not deter the young'n from setting his sights (again, tongue-in-cheek!) on the door of the cage. There was no way he could climb all the way up the cage again. Exiting through the door would be the best next option. And McMillan decided to go for it, slowly crawling on his hands and knees. Fejona Min, having been one of those muttering 'HOLY BATSHIT' after the brainbuster from the top of the cage, was now in full urging mode. "Faster, Joseph! You're almost there! Vengeance is yours!" So was the Television Title. But hey, in his reign, Quinton has never once given up. Never EVER. Not against Vincent Pembridge, not against Keegan, not against Phil Atken, not against Chris Messiah. I'm not talking about giving up in tapping out, because... yeah, he did that at the REVIVAL PPV. I'm talking about May never going gently into the night. Why did I just say all of that? Simple. The Canadian Gladiator was stirring, and rolled to his side, growling as he saw McMillan close to victory. As a matter of fact, the Blind Slayer had his head sticking out of the cage already, yo. Nyah. With every iota of desperation slowly building up inside of him, Quinton made like the Road Runner and gave chase to McMillan. His entire body ached from the brainbuster off the top of the cage, but the Canadian wasn't about to give his title up without a fight. Of course, this match wasn't just about the title. If you don't know what it's really about, then fuck off now. I dedicated a large chunk of the intro to explaining the backstory to this damn thing. Motherfucker. Ahem. Anywho, Joseph was almost out of the cage, his entire upper-body hanging out of the structure. All that was left was to pull his legs out just a bit more, and he'd drop to the ground, the winnar. Unfortuntately for Joseph, Quincy's resilience knew no bounds, and the Castaway *just* managed to grab the Blind Slayer's left leg. That, of course, impeded Joseph's progress. And the young man growled, as he tried to shrug May off with his flailing right leg. Once again, his blindness (if you can even call it that since the man can make out shapes and forms due to the atmospheric nature of this planet) came into play here, and Quinton was spared from boot-you-FACE. Chuckling now, primarily because Quinton had rescued himself from the jaws of defeat, the longest-reigning Television Champion in ACW history (yeah, I said it!) dragged Joseph away from the door of the cage and back to the middle of the ring. Good stuff, thought the jubilant fans. Not with regards to the sudden swinging enziguiri kick from McMillan, however, as the Blind Slayer propped himself up to his knees and spun his body around. Quinton May collapsed to the canvas, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Owen Hart would have been proud of that thwack-a-licious enziguiri, believe me. After a difficult struggle to stand up, Joseph McMillan pushed the fringe of his whitish-blonde hair out of his eyes, although it really didn't do anything to impair his vision, heh. It just felt irritating. But anyways, with Quinton May once again at his mercy and in even more trouble now, the Blind Slayer decided to open a can of whoop ass. First, he shot himself off the ropes and jumped down on Quinton's head in a double-footed stomp. OUCH. That earned tons of heat from the fans, who were now chanting 'YOU SUCK COCK! YOU SUCK COCK!'. Of course, they were aiming the chants at Fejona Min, who was clapping and proclaiming Joseph as the new champ following the enziguiri. Funny stuff. McMillan didn't let the antagonistic environment faze him, and proceeded to the second phase of his plan. Which was, picking Quinton up and hurling him head-first into the cage wall. Had it been a flimsy structure, it would have surely been broken upon the impact of May being tossed into it, a'la WWE's St Valentine's Day Massacre in 1999. We all know, though, that ACW > WWE. ACW > your mother, too. And, > your aunt. Yeah, that's the truth, baby. May staggered back and dropped back down to the canvas, a laceration having been opened up across his forehead. McMillan sniffed the air, his sneer growing wider as the scent of blood filled his nostrils. Thus, he picked Quinton up again and... well, WHAM! -- repeated the hurling of Quinton May into the cage wall. If it works, why stop, right? Deciding to raise the bar of savageness, Joseph peeled Quinton off the canvas and dragged him over to the cage wall. BAM, BAM, BAM; three smashes of the head against the steel. That was followed by McMillan actually grating Quinton's face against the steel, causing blood to drip down to the canvas. The cage wall itself was stained, but Joseph really didn't give a flying fuck at this point. BAM! One last smash of the head against the cage, and Joseph followed up with a sideways chop to Quinton's chest. The Castaway stumbled back a few steps, gasping for breath. An action that only caused blood to roll into his mouth and curdle inside. Eeew, never a good thing. Joseph was a man possessed now. And he was going to possibly finish Quincy Mama off, as the Blind Slayer shot himself into the ropes. Spinning heel kick was on the agenda as he neared the dazed Canadian, but May ducked underneath it, somehow! Turning around, though, Quinton found himself destroyed. By a jumping back-to-front bicycle kick! HOLY SHEET, indeed. Quincy has used the move a couple of times before, in ACdub and tSC. Obviously, Joseph picked it up from his former master... and balls, the Blind Slayer executed it much more cleanly than Quinton ever has. By the way, Quinton's version? Pretty damn good in its own right. So you KNOW that Joseph's one was astounding. So much so that May was flat on his back, coughing violently due to the claret curdling up in his mouth... and, oh, his face being redecorated by the bicylce kick of doom. McMillan, looking more and more like a true warrior as the seconds ticked by, figured he'd done enough to keep the Canadian Gladiator down & out. "JOSEPH
SUCKS!" Yes, judging from the chants, McMillan was dead certain that he'd finally put away the man he claims destroyed his life. And without further hestitation, Joseph made his way over to one of the four cage walls. The same one which had been stained by Quinton's blood, if you care about the fun facts. And now without much difficulty whatsoever, Joseph raced up the cage, determined to make it up and over to the outside in record time. Fejona Min, Joseph's proverbial cheerleader, kept up with the encouraging and whatnot. Until Quinton suddenly rolled on his back and stood to his feet, albeit almost collapsing back down. Blood loss, you see. Nevertheless, May retained his vertical position and admist the wave of deafening cheers of support, Quinton started to climb the cage as well, once more giving chase. Joseph turned around and saw Quinton flying up the cage, acting as if the bicycle kick he suffered earlier on had not affected him a single bit. It did, but the Canadian Gladiator was operating on pure adrenaline. And we as all know, an adrenal rush can do wonderful things. It can also cause us to rush into foolhardy decisions. This was one such case, as when Quinton caught up with McMillan up the top, the Blind Slayer simply had to strike with a backhand chop to the face of the Castaway to sent Quinton crashing down to the canvas. Truly, that had to hurt. If you don't think so, then... well, piss off. :-) Quincy Mama wasn't about to let a little thing like a rough trip down to Canvas Funland stop him. Not with the sight of Joseph now having crossed over from the inside to the outside. Once more, Quinton acted like he had been injected with ganja, as he hurried up the cage and only barely managed to catch Joseph's head of hair. Whew, that was close. Especially when McMillan was actually of jumping down to the ground, just so that May wouldn't be able to stop him again. Took a second too long to make up his mind, however, and Quinton was now pulling him back into the inside of the cage. As that was happening, though, Joseph fired away with stinging overhand clubs to Quincy's head. Shot after shot rained down on Quinton, who was hoping he would be able to pay Joseph back for the brainbuster off the top that he suffered just moments ago. Guess what? No such luck. Joseph never let up with the overhand clubbing, even if he was teetering on his belly on the top of the cage. Quinton finally lost his grip on Joseph's hair, and dropped down to the canvas again, elicting severe groans of disappointment and concern from the fans. Quincy looked as if he was just involved in a car wreck. The Blind Slayer was about to make it worse. Much worse. Even though he could have easily slid down the outside of the cage now, Joseph wanted to emphasise how much this whole battle meant to him. This, according to Joseph, was the unwinnable war Quinton just had to come to terms with. With the crowd's interest perked, Joseph McMillan balanced himself at the top of the steel structure that engulfed the ring. Now looking like he was some kind of madman hell bent on world destruction, Joseph looked out at the sea of humanity, watching as every single fan were on their feet, absolutely baffled as to what McMillan was going to do. "You were never there for me, Quinton. Never. Not once. You ruined my life, you... monster." Joseph mumbled himself, almost reassuringly-like. Back on sea-level, Fejona Min was pleading with Joseph not to go through with this. She obviously had some clue as to what was to come. Soon, everybody found out, for Joseph leapt off the top, in the fashion of a shooting star press. Barrelling down on Quinton's vulnerable lifeform, McMillan twisted his body to the side and stuck his elbow out.... ... effectively connecting with a shooting star press elbow drop! "HOLY
SHIT!" You may not like Joseph McMillan. He may not have ever won an ACW match. And he certainly has not proven to be the most entertaining bastard in the history of the company. But what he just did? Surpasses any single thing that has ever transpired on ACW programming. Probably not even Quinton himself would have taken a masterful risk like that, and succeed. Sure, Joseph was pretty motionless himself from that high-risk offensive attack that had the fans watching on in awe and their mouths hanging wide open. Fact of the matter is, though, Joseph McMillan has done what he said he would do. And that was to destroy Quinton May, physically and mentally. With a move like that, McMillan may have KILLED Quincy Mama... but, naw, the Canadian Gladiator was still breathing. For now, at least. Being the first to recover, quite obviously, Joseph crawled over to the ropes and used 'em to help himself up. On the outside, the Cambodian Femme Fatale shook her head, despite having a devious smile plastered on her face. She was simply relieved that Joseph had not crashed and burned, and now absolutely sure that Joseph had this in the bag. Despite being totally shaky, the man formerly known as 006.392 started to climb up the cage confidently, realising that he was only a matter of second away from savouring the best moment in his scarred life. As he was ascending to the top, however, the fans began to have hope for Quinton. Why? He had started to stir. How... who... why... HOW?! Don't ask me, I'm as shocked as you are. Joseph and Fejona had not noticed Quinton rolling to his side, despite his mug being caked in blood, and his chest trembling independently from the rest of his body, following the SSP elbow drop from McMillan. Once Joseph reached the top and swung one leg over, however, Quinton made his move. It was tough for May to even stand up, much less breathe, but this was his one shot to change the match. And the Canadian Gladiator took his chances. He had to, for if he failed, Joseph would go on to claim a glorious victory in a phenomenal match. So, Quincy jumped to his feet and leapt up to grab McMillan's other leg, with the help of the ropes. With one simple tug, Quincy pulled Joseph down the cage... an action that resulted in the Blind Slayer being straddled on the top rope! Ooooh, never a good thing for the guys. May himself dropped back down to the canvas, his last-ditch attempt having barely succeeded. Of course, he couldn't have expected luck to play in his favour once more, but it did. Sliding off the top rope, Joseph's head hit the canvas, and his left leg got trapped in between the ropes, which somehow got intertwined with each other. What did that mean? Oh, nothing at all. Except... well, the fans roared with jubilation and anticipation. And, the mask of horror crept onto Fejona's face as she realised that due to one small action from Quincy Mama, Joseph was about to lose the chance at ultimate vengeance. Especially when Quinton came to basically the same conclusion, and dragged himself halfway across the ring, aiming to exit the cage via the door. The thousands of fans that packed the arena were vehemently chanting May's name now, spurring the Castaway on. Slowly but surely, Quincy inched closer to the door. Once more, Fejona Min -- having figured that Joseph, as hard as he was trying, was going to be unable to release his leg from the ropes in time -- decided to take proactive action. She rushed over to the cage door and sidekicked the living daylights out of referee Pablo Roger. Poor bastard didn't know whether a truck or a monkey hit him. Spinning around, Min saw that Quinton was just an inch or so away from sticking his head out of the frame of the cage's door, which would eventually lead to his exit. So, with no other alternative, Fejona did the only damn thing she could, just as Joseph McMillan untangled his foot from the ropes. SMACKKKKK! Door-you-HEAD. Yeah, I've succummbed to the trend, so sue me. Anyways, to explain it in more detail; Fejona pulverised Quincy Mama's head with the cage door, and saved McMillan from sure defeat. By this juncture, Joseph had regained his vertical base and limped over to the motionless form of Quinton May, who had been cheated out of victory once more. The fans were jeering the fuck out of Fejona Min, who was now rummaging the ringside area for something. Monkey, my guess is. Back in the ring, Joseph pulled a groggy Quinton May up and strike with a forearm uppercut. That sent Quincy backpedalling into the cage wall, and... well, the back of May's head got to find out how unforgiving the steel mesh was. As Quinton staggered back towards McMillan, the Blind Slayer struck with a fireman's carry seguing into a side brainbuster suplex. And yes, that does sound complicated. What wasn't, though, was Fejona scaling the outside cage wall with a CHAIR in hand. Indeed, with the referee out cold, it was time to bring out the toys. Not that one could get disqualified for weapon usage even if the referee wasn't knocked the fuck out, but it's much cooler this way. Anywho, having made it halfway up the cage wall, Fejona whistled at Joseph to garner his attention, then tossed the chair into the ring. Much to McMillan's delight, it landed directly at his feet. "Knock him into the next century, Joseph! DO it, and vengeance is yours." Fejona chirped in with another one of those encouragement-type remarks, before motioning to 'Seph that Quinton was truly ripe for the picking. Joseph nodded whilst looking at Fejona with those pupil-less eyes of his, and turned slightly, raising the chair over his head. Quinton May was already to his knees, having left a pool of blood on the canvas right where he was punk'd with the fireman's carry side brainbuster suplex. Not only was he slowly losing energy, Quinton was beginning to think that this really was the unwinnable war. As he turned around, though, pure instinct took over for Quinton May. It simply had to be instinct at work, for Joseph swung the chair like his life depended on it. In actuality, it really did. WHOOOOSH! May ducked and rolled underneath the chair, with Joseph confused as to how Quincy had evaded getting hit. Turning around rapidly, Joseph raised the chair up again and brought it downwards, aiming it at the recovering Canadian Gladiator. Unfortunately for Joseph? Quinton May was just a heartbeat quicker, and dropkicked the chair back into Joseph's face. SMACK. Know what was worse? Joseph flew backwards, directly into the cage wall. On the outside of which, Fejona Min was still hanging onto, observing the action with a smile. That smile was promptly erased when she was knocked off the cage and got hung out to dry on the security barricade! The fans definitely loved that. Joseph didn't, as he turned to examine Fejona laid out on the ground. Cursing slightly, McMillan returned his focus to Quinton, who promptly charged at his former disciple with the intentions of scoring with a running jumping sidekick. You know, much akin to za Sweet Chin Music? Joseph parried it forcefully with his right forearm, however, continuing to defy the law of humanity; when you lose your sight, you don't see. PERIOD. Ever since he returned, Joseph has proven that he can indeed visualise everything as if he were normal, due to his enlightenment. Baffling, isn't it? What? Daredevil? Fuck that shit. At any event, having parried May's foot, Joseph immediately tried to counter with a spinning backfist with the left arm. No good, Quinton executed a Matrix-esque bridge of his own and swung his legs along the canvas, sweeping out Joseph's legs from under him. In the process, May had to make with the falling down to the canvas, joining Joseph McMillan there. But neither man stayed down long, and they rolled on their respective backs, springing up to their feet. The atmosphere inside the arena rose to new heights, with every single soul that was watching coming to the conclusion that whoever made the next mistake... would be done for. Quinton and McMillan shared the consensus; that was evident by gauging their body language. And without any further hestitation, both men charged at each other, ready to embark on the final stretch of this brutal and utterly deadlocked war of attrition. One way or another, a winner had to be decided. McMillan proved to be faster of the two this time 'round and let fly with a snap roundhouse kick. May ducked and struck with a leaping uppercut, catching Joseph right in the jaw. The Blind Slayer staggered back into the ropes, inadvertently rebounding off of 'em. Quinton, meanwhile, quite intentionally shot himself into the perpendicular set of ropes. He had a plan in mind. That plan was to get his ribs crushed by a sudden swinging knee-lift. Yes, Joseph McMillan reacted before Quinton could do whatever the bloody hell he had intended to do, and now had Quinton May doubled over... at his mercy. With a roar that could be interpreted as a warcry, McMillan brought down a knife-edged chop aimed at Quinton's throat. It was almost as if the Blind Slayer was looking to executed the Windpipe Smash. Once again, Quinton had the presence of mind to act swiftly, and he caught 'Seph's right hand with both of his hands. Joseph growled, before finding himself kicked in the shin. Quinton then quickly followed up with a front facelock application that led to a suplex attempt. So late in the game, but yeah, desperate times call for desperate measures, bub. Thing was, Joseph wriggled out of mid-move and landed directly behind Quinton, prior to driving his elbow into the back of May's head. That stung quite a fair bit, and May dropped to his knees, winded. The Blind Slayer took a step back and wrapped his hands around Quincy's legs, essentially pivoting the latter like a wheelbarrow. If that doesn't clue you in on what was to happen, please shoot yourself. Now. I demand it. Or, just stab yourself, whatever. ... 'Kay. SO. Wheelbarrow suplex, coming right up. Joseph put a lot of power behind it, too, but May's nimble body and his acute intelligence and ability to think on his feet came into play once more. Because somehow, Quinton twisted his body in mid-air and just barely landed on his hands, before somersaulting backwards. It was just one of those things where you had to be there to see it for yourself. Joseph WAS there, and he sensed that Quincy had not been taken out of the picture. He was correct, for Quinton came hurtling off the ropes, his arms up in the air and interlocking with each other. Double axe-handle smash was on the cards. Again, McMillan defied the odds and sidestepped out of the way. One tricky blind bastard we have there. Quinton was losing his patience by now, but as he turned around, he had to deal with Joseph's foot approaching his face at breakneck pace. Only one thing to do at a time like that, and ducking was that thing. Quinton suddenly had an epiphany as he rolled underneath Jospeh's leg, however. An epiphany that prompted him to stop moving and breathing for a few seconds, when he was out of Joseph's spectrum of sight. Why did he do that? Nobody knew, and nobody could also figure out why Joseph was looking confused as he turned around. Like, as if, he couldn't see Quinton. It was the damndest thing. Until, of course, Quinton could no longer hold his breath and decided to further test his theory... by somersaulting backwards, and driving both of his feet upwards into Joseph's jaws in mid-flight. McMillan only reacted at the last possible second, but taking a half a step back didn't work. "YAYYYYY!" went the fans. "UGGGHHH!" Fejona gurgled on the outside, finally coming to. "HMMMM!" Quinton pondered to himself as he landed on his feet and watched McMillan crash into the cage wall. The force of May's Dylan-ator, so aptly named after his son, invoked the whiplash effect, and Joseph McMillan came staggering back toward the middle of the ring. Quinton duly closed in, swinging a huge right hook at Joseph's face. McMillan was able to regain his composure just in time to ward off the punch with his left arm, but let himself open for a left-handed jab to the chest by Quincy. Who then raised his right hand again, intending to try for another right hook. ... Strangely enough, Quincy dropped to his knees at that exact moment, and once more held his breath. Joseph, in the meantime, brought up his left arm as if to block an attack, having obviously been able to ascertain that the Canadian Gladiator was going to strike him from the right again. But as was the case mere seconds ago, Joseph appeared stumped. And for once, looked like he was actually blind. He cocked his head to the left, then to the right. Then frowned. The fans, who had been making tons of noise throughout, suddenly shushed. Which only helped Quinton, and served to further aggravate Joseph McMillan. "Where the fuck are you?" Joseph muttered, a tinge of desperation in his voice. On his knees, May grinned crookedly, before striking with an uppercut to McMillan's balls. Mama mia, that's a spicy meatball. Or something. Joseph stumbled back and doubled over, cupping his groin. Quinton simply hurriedly rolled forward and sprung up behind Joseph. Whilst locking in a full nelson that got the fans off their feet, Quinton leaned in to whisper something to Joseph. Something that indicated May's understanding of Joseph's situation. "CHECKMATE, Joseph." Then? What the fuck, hombre? Put your hands together foooor -- URBANE REPEALMENT! Of course, May didn't go through with the whole 'briging pin' thing since it wouldn't have countered, but the entire arena still erupted in jubilatory celebrations. Quincy Mama had finally put the Blind Slayer to sleep, and done so after some bizarre circumstances. But hey, whatever gets the job done. Right? Right. "QUINCY
MAMA!" Rolling away from Joseph, Quinton struggled to his feet and trodded over to the side of the cage, ready to scale to the top and climb over, which would open up the gates of Hell. Or, so that he could descend to the ground and officially win the match. Just as Quinton began to climb, Fejona Min dragged herself over to the door of the cage. She was dazed and out of it, but looking at the motionless Joseph in the ring, the Cambodian Femme Fatale was able to put two and two together. It equals four, bitch. Min grunted as she hoisted herself into the ring, with sections of the crowd wondering she was going to do. And then, it dawned on them, just as Quinton reached the top. Fejona was going to drag Joseph out of the cage. It would work perfectly, since that damned referee, Pablo Rogers, had also finally recovered and was able to determine who hit the floor first. Looks like we have ourselves a horse-race now, eh? You bet your hairy arses you do. Sit tight, ladies and gentlemen. This is a close one to call. Swinging both legs over the top, Quinton had finally come to notice Fejona Min inside the ring, who now had control of Joseph's arms and was trying as hard as she could to drag him towards the door. Since they were in the middle of the ring, Quinton's heart started to sink. Right before he woke himself up and as quickly as his beaten body could, began to climb down the outside cage wall. Pablo Rogers had his eyes on both Fejona & Joseph, and Quinton... and he himself had to admit that Joseph was probably going to end up winning this damn thing, despite having been outplayed by Quinton in the end. It was a matter of seconds now, for Fejona Min and Joseph McMillan. The former already had her legs out of the door, and two more drags would do it. Quinton was barely a quarter of the way down the cage, the blood loss really getting to him. With a mega exertion of energy, the Cambodian Femme Fatale had herself out of the cage and Joseph's arms were now also hanging outside the confines of the steel structure. It would only require one final exertion to win it for the Blind Slayer, and Fejona was already laughing all the way to the bank? Quincy Mama? He concluded that he had been a moron for not thinking of the obvious. Only halfway down the cage and close to losing his title and the war, the Canadian Gladiator decided that he would have to make a small sacrifice... ... ... ... ... and jumped down to the ground, landing awkwardly, but just a half a second before McMillan's feet touched the floor! Know that that means? Huh? Do ya? The fans exploded one more, and Fejona was beyond herself. Pablo Rogers called for it as he turned to the timekeeper and the announcer. "THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH, AND STILLLLLL ACW TELEVISION CHAMPION... QUINTON MAYYYYYYY!" Whaddaya know? Quincy had done it. Perched halfway up the outer wall of the cage, Quinton figured that a little spill wouldn't kill him, and he jumped down. Result? His feet touched the ground right before Fejona dragged Joseph out of the cage via the door. And thus, it was over. Quincy Mama, who WAS NOT unconscious by some grace of God, had won the battle. He'd defeated his former disciple and the Blind Slayer. The man who looked, at so many times during the war, that he would indeed triumph despite his blindness and go on to prove that he really was as invincible as he portrayed himself to be. Standing to his feet, Quinton collected his belt from Pablo Rogers and staggered away, blood still seeping out of the laceration on his face. Joseph McMillan had finally woken up, and looked right up at Fejona, who was throwing one heck of a hissy fit. She had failed in her quest to help Joseph. And Joseph had failed in his quest to right the ultimate wrong done to him. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" McMillan screamed at the top of his voice, as Quinton turned around, locking eyes with Joseph. Right then and there, as Joseph beat the ground with his fists, May knew that perhaps it hadn't been worth it. The 'father' had defeated the 'son'... ... but the 'father' had not saved the 'son'. Not at all. Which meant what, exactly? Let's just say, Joseph McMillan wasn't going to let this rest. Not as long as the Blind Slayer was breathing. Winner > Quinton May
thereturn/04
Where Do We Go From Here, Part Five
SilverHAWK looked up to see the lovely Hillary Duncan standing in his doorway. "Not too bad actually...this feels like I'm wrestling rather than refereeing, it's fucking weird, pardon my French." As Duncan came to sit down on the bench, she left behind a travel bag in the doorway, which was the first thing that HAWK noticed. "You going somewhere?" As she looked over at the bag, she smirked. "Yes actually." As HAWK looked into her eyes, you could see her welling up, and HAWK more or less knew what was coming. "HAWK...before I took this job, I thought that wrestlers were a bunch of beefed up moron's, waiting for their next chair shot, but since being here...I respect wrestlers more than anyone else I know." HAWK smiled. "You haven't done too bad yourself Hillary, or a TV executive." "That's the point. This isn't my place...I'm not strong enough to handle this, and no matter what the outcome tonight, ACW will change, and I don't know if it's for the better, or for the worse. Whatever happens anyway, I won't be here to see it." As she got to her feet, and went towards the door, she stopped and turned around, peering into HAWKs eyes and then turning her attention to the referee's shirt to his right hand side. "Aaron...I only ask one thing of you tonight, as a leaving present...for me." "Sure..." "When you are in that ring tonight, refereeing the match...don't do it down the line." "I should cheat?" "No...referee it your way." "What way is that Hillary?" "...the way that in the end, we all win." And as she left HAWKs locker room, she left with a poignant thought in the air, what HAWK was to do with it, we might just find out later tonight.
Please
allow me to introduce myself The Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil”. “And
I was 'round when Jesus Christ The music continued as the former ACW World Heavyweight Champion walked onto the stage to the loudest ovation of the night. This was something that Alias was not familiar with for a long time. He was the challenger… He walked down that aisle with a purpose. Alias was looking to get HIS World Title back from a man that he used to call friend but now despised. The man was ready to fight and the fans knew it from the look on his face. The Original Pulp Hero stood on the stage under the acw-tron soaking in the cheers from the crowd. His focus was straight ahead at the job at hand. Vince Jacobs and the World Title. 'Ring Superstar' started to blast over the PA system as Vince slowly made it to the stage looking around the arena. It's
Vince Jacobs comin' down nigga like it or not Vince turned in the middle of the ring and posed for the crowd as pyros went off behind him. Alias looked on at the flamboyant Jacobs and smirked. The bell sounded as SVJ took off his t-shirt and looked across the ring at the former champ who smiled at Vince. Vince went to lock up with Alias but the two men went to stalemate neither man gaining the edge in leverage. Alias went to lock up with Vince again but this time Vince showed his quickness and ducked under the grasp of Alias and nailed him with a big right hand. SVJ went on an onslaught with rights and lefts to Alias driving him backwards to the corner. Vince grabbed Alias and tried to whip him into the far corner but he held on. Vince tried once more but he held on again. Alias turned SVJ around and threw him into the corner. He began to tag SVJ with rights and lefts in the corner driving the champ to the mat. Alias picked up SVJ and whipped him into the far corner. He raced into the corner after him and nailed him with a big clothesline that shook the self-proclaimed superstar right out of his boots. Alias raised his arms in the air to the cheering fans as SVJ slumped to the mat in the corner. The fans wanted to see Vince lose the title back to Alias again. Alias pulled Vince up by his hair and drove him down to the mat with a big belly-to-belly suplex. He got up and dropped an elbow across the throat of SVJ. The fans erupted for Alias after that move. ALIAS!! The chant from the fans bought a sudden smile to the face of Alias as he picked up Vince once more and drove him down with vicious DDT!! Alias quickly went for the cover on Vince. He wanted to end this early ONE… TWO… KICKOUT BY VINCE!! Alias knew SVJ wasn’t going to lie down so quickly. He had to hit him with everything he had. Alias grabbed Vince by the hair and lifted him up and drove him down with Pulped. Alias was in control of Vince. Vince was in trouble while in the grasp of The Original Pulp Hero. He wasn’t going to let Alias destroy what he strived for one year to get his hands on. Alias went to pick the champ up again but Vince poked Alias in the eyes with his thumb. That did it. Alias held his eyes trying to get his vision back. Jacobs stood to his feet and ran and clotheslined Alias that sent him down to the mat. Jacobs picked up Alias and drove him to the mat with a swinging neck breaker. He quickly raced to the top rope and came off catching Alias with a big Missile dropkick. Vince kicked the down Alias in the face as the fans jeered their champion. SVJ knelt down by Alias and grabbed him by the hair and started to scream in his face. “It ends tonight Chris. You are fucking dead.” Alias spat back into Vince’s face in disgust and anger. Vince dropped his head to the mat as Alias started to try to make it to his feet. Jacobs laughed at Alias trying to get to his feet and taunted him. Vince started to hear it from the crowd for his little display. S –
V – J SUCKS!! Vince waited for Alias to slowly get up. He saw that he was on both knees as he raced to the opposite side ropes. He came back toward Alias and caught him… STAR GAZER Vince quickly went for the cover on Alias… ONE… TWO… TH-- NO!! KICKOUT BY ALIAS!! Vince slammed his hands on the mat because he thought the match was over. He got to his feet and waited in the corner for Alias to get to his feet. He was slow to get to his feet but he made it. SVJ went for the Superstar Kick when Alias turned around to face him but he caught his foot. Alias took Vince’s leg and spun around. Vince did a full 360 and was met by a Capture Suplex from Alias. He was trying to get his bearings as he grabbed Vince from the mat by his hair. Alias picked up SVJ and held him in the air for what seemed like forever for Vince. He finally drove him down with a high vertical suplex that shook the ring. The crowd once again got behind Alias… ALIAS!! Alias looked out into the crowd and raised his arms as they started to cheer. Alias was their hero and they wanted to see him destroy Vince Jacobs. Alias picked up Vince once more and whipped him into the ropes. Vince bounced off the ropes and was nailed… HUGE POWERSLAM Alias quickly hooked Vince’s leg for the cover… ONE… TWO… THR—NO!! VINCE BARELY GOT A SHOULDER UP!! Alias picked up Vince again and he started to signal for the end. It looked like he was going to go for the A-Bomb. Alias picked up Vince and whipped him into the ropes. Jacobs bounced off the ropes and was caught in the tilt-a-whirl but reversed it and landed on his feet instead. SVJ hooked Alias and nailed him with A Stellar Performance. That was unbelievable as Vince showed why he was a veteran in this sport. The crowd erupted from the high impact move that SVJ just performed… HO-LY
SHIT!! Both Alias and Jacobs was down on the mat as the crowd tried to get behind Alias again. That was a desperation move from Vince to buy him some time, which it did… ALIAS!! Vince slowly got to his feet as Alias was also making it to his feet. SVJ was unaware that Alias was up and ready for him to turn around. Jacobs turned around and was nailed with a kick to the gut... HIGH ANGLE POWERBOMB Alias held Jacobs down for the pinfall… ONE… TWO… THR--- NO!! NO!! JACOBS KICKED OUT AGAIN!! Alias slammed his hands on the mat. The ACW World Title was almost in his grasp again but the champ kicked out again. Alias was going to set Vince up for the A-Bomb again. Alias picked up SVJ but Jacobs reversed the move into an inside cradle. ONE… TWO… KICKOUT!! ALIAS ESCAPED!! THE FANS WENT WILD FROM THAT CLOSE CALL!! Both men wasted no time getting back to their feet. Alias buried a knee across Jacobs’ midsection knocking the wind out of him. He pushed Vince back into the turnbuckles and buried a shoulder into his ribcage. Alias nailed Vince with two hard rights and then Irish Whipped him into the far corner. Only Vince reversed the whip and sent Alias hurling towards the turnbuckles, which he hit on such impact that he bounced right out into a running Jacobs forearm. Alias spun around, but didn’t fall and staggered towards the ropes. Jacobs trying to keep the momentum ran off the opposite ropes and charged at Alias with a clothesline. Jacobs hopped onto the top rope looking for a highflying move. He leapt off nailing Alias with the Shining Star. Jacobs quickly hooked Alias’ leg for the pin attempt. ONE… TWO… THREE... NO!! THAT WAS ONLY TWO AND TWO THIRDS!! The crowd nearly went crazy that Jacobs almost retained the World Title. You can tell this crowd was partisan to Alias. Jacobs picked Alias up to his feet and sent him crashing down with a DDT!! Jacobs made it to his feet and gave the crowd a smirk while he watched Alias struggle to get to his feet. The crowd jeered the champ but he didn’t care. Jacobs waited just as Alias blindly stumbled towards him and right into a… A Star is Born Spinning Spinebuster. Jacobs drove Alias to the mat with authority and rolled to his feet, hurt and tired…but grinning that he had his rival where he wanted him. Alias rolled to his knees with quite a struggle as Jacobs regained some much-needed stamina. Alias staggered up and with a Hollywood smile, Jacobs exploded out of the corner and took off Alias’ head with a perfect Superstar Kick. Alias hit the mat like a big redwood in the forest and Jacobs covered him for the pinfall. ONE… TWO… THR-- NO!! Alias just got a shoulder up as the crowd leapt and Jacobs slammed his hands on the mat, while eyeing the ref angrily. He told the ref it was a three count but the ref kept telling him it was only a two count. Jacobs rose to his feet and paced around the groaning Alias, an evil twinkle in his eye. To nobody in particular – Jacobs yelled out loud, “Its time for someone to get an Ego Check!” With that said, Jacobs grabbed Alias’ blonde hair and reeled him into a Standing Head scissors and vaulted Alias up and down violently into… The Ego Check Spinning Powerbomb. The crowd groaned at the impact as Jacobs quickly rose to his feet and raised his arms victoriously as the arena jeered as loud as they could. Jacobs grabbed Alias by the legs and dragged him to the center of the ring. He looked down at Alias. “Fuck you, Chris.” Jacobs quickly hustled onto the apron and began his ascension to the top as the crowd started chanting for Alias to revive. Jacobs raised both hands up in the air, all five fingers raised and flew off as high as he possibly could… Five Star Frog Splash hit with such impact that Jacobs bounced off of Alias and two feet forward. The crowd screamed, thinking Alias was dead while Vince arrogantly laid his back across Alias’ chest while lazily hooking his leg with a smug grin. This WAS over. ONE... TWO... THRE-- NO!! UN-FRICKIN-BELIEVABLE!! Or so
Vince would’ve thought but to his dismay Alias got a shoulder up
again. Vince’s eyes bulged out of their sockets in fury; he quickly
jumped to his feet and began stomping non-stop as the crowd booed to
no end. Jacobs ripped the beaten Alias to his feet and hooked him into
a Sleeper Hold, ready to drop the man in a Falling Star. Can we say small burst of energy folks? The referee began a standing ten count as the crowd was going crazy chanting for The Original Pulp Hero to get to his feet. This crowd wanted blood and it was Vince Jacobs’ blood they wanted. Bloodthirsty crowd.. huh!! ONE… TWO… THREE… At four, Alias showing the heart that he was known for started to pull himself up with the help of the ropes. Meanwhile, Vince Jacobs stumbled on all fours towards the ropes and started to pull himself up to his feet also… Vince stood up in the corner as Alias started to get to his feet. Vince waited for Alias to turn around as he nailed him with a spinning heel kick that knocked Alias to the mat. He stayed on the attack as he went to the top rope. No wasted motion as Jacobs nailed Alias with the The Shining Star flying leg drop again. Jacobs hooked Alias’ far leg for the cover. ONE… TWO… THR--- NO!! KICKOUT!! Alias got his shoulder up at the last second. He was still in this match to Vince Jacobs’ dismay. Jacobs slammed his hands on the mat frustrated that he couldn’t put Alias away. Jacobs picked up Alias and whipped him into the corner. Vince raced into the corner shoulder first but didn’t meet Alias’ mid section. … He met the steel ring post. Jacobs stood caught in the middle of the ring ropes and the ring post. Alias pulled Vince from behind out of the corner and drove him down with a vicious German suplex. The Pulp Hero quickly picked Jacobs back up to his feet and drove him down again with a side Russian Leg Sweep. Alias was on top of his game as he went for the cover on Jacobs. ONE… TWO… THR-- NO!! The veteran Vince Jacobs knew where he was in the ring as he put his foot on the bottom rope to stop the count. Alias went outside to the floor and grabbed a chair and rolled back into the ring. The referee stood in between Alias and Jacobs, yelling at Alias to drop the chair. Alias smiled as he gave the chair to the referee. The ref took the chair and threw it out of the ring. While the ref’s back was turned Alias nailed Jacobs with swift quick to his lower extremities. Jacobs doubled over in pain as Alias smiled before nailing Vince with a double underhook driver. SVJ bounced off of the mat from the impact. Alias slowly made his way to the top rope as SVJ laid prone on the mat. Alias dove off the top rope with the Glasgow Kiss into Vince’s right pectoral. Both men lay on the mat as Vince tried to catch his breath and Alias rolled around holding his head. The referee started to put the ten count on both wrestlers again. ONE… TWO… THREE… FOUR… FIVE… SIX… SEVEN… EIGHT… Both men pulled themselves up by the ropes. Alias went for a big right hand on Jacobs but he ducked it and drove Alias backwards to the mat with a Superstar Kick. The kick heard around the world as Alias’ head snapped back before falling to the mat. Jacobs quickly picked up Alias and drove him down with a Starburst. Jacobs rolled over and hooked Alias’ leg for the cover. ONE… TWO… THREE!! NO WAY!! The fans went ballistic as Alias got his shoulder up off the mat at the ninety-ninth second. Jacobs stood up dragging Alias with him. SVJ went to whip Alias into the corner but Alias reversed it and sent Jacobs back into the corner they came out of. Alias picked up SVJ and set him on the top turnbuckle. Alias started to make his climb to the top rope with Jacobs. The Big Fat Kill Alias slowly crawled over to Vince and draped an arm across Jacobs’ chest for the pin. ONE… TWO… THR--- NO!! ANOTHER KICKOUT!! The fans blew the roof off the arena from the action that these two men were putting out in the ring. Alias was trying to do everything he could to win his title back but SVJ was doing just that much more to keep the title. Alias struggled to his feet as he grabbed Jacobs by the hair and slowly pulled the champ to his feet. He threw Jacobs into the corner and drove him to the mat with the Click Click Boom. Vince slumped to the mat in the corner as Alias raised his arms high in the air ready to set Jacobs up for the knockout blow. Alias picked up Vince by the hair as he turned and sat on the top rope. He hooked Vince by the head and tried to drive him down with a Tornado DDT but Vince blocked it and threw Alias off of him. SVJ quickly nailed Alias with a boot to the gut. What came next you ask? STAR STRUCK That move strikes so fast from anywhere. Vince hooks Alias’ leg for the cover. ONE… TWO… THREE… It’s over. What a match. Vince Jacobs retains his ACW World Title as he defeats his greatest challenger. Both men laid in the middle of the ring spent as the fans gave both men a standing ovation for the effort they put in that ring tonight. Jacobs has just etched his name in the hallowed halls of the few men that have held the ACW World Title. This war with Alias would come to an end tonight. Or would it? Winner > 'Superstar' Vince Jacobs
ACW
OWNERSHIP SilverHAWK stood in the centre of the ring. Winner > ACW
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