When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I...

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

"Fix You" by Coldplay

Dangerously In Common

THE BEGINNING OF THE END
Alias versus Justin Williamson

This was the Beginning of the End. The winner of the next contest entered End Game at #30. The loser entered at #1.

Really, did it matter?

Maybe, maybe not. But we were nonetheless about to find out a small piece of the End Game puzzle.

Cue “Sympathy For The Devil” by the Rolling Stones.

The fans looked somewhat surprised, but it most certainly WAS Alias that made his down the aisle way. He might not have been in the world title match tonight as a competitor, but winning this would make him #30 in End Game, and make getting a title shot again a hell of a lot easier.

The Original Pulp entered the ring, staring at the aisle way, wondering who his opponent was going to be.

Alias’ well known tune was cut off by “Mr. Jack” by System of a Down. The song wasn’t one known by ACW fans, so the meaning was clear.

One of the outsiders rumored to have been put into End Game now had a chance to be #30.

And that man?

PRIME’s Justin Williamson, a former PRIME Tag Team Champion. A man formerly known the world over for being among the sickest, most violent individuals in the game. The Hardcore Isosceles Trapezoid now was known as a technical wizard, a man who loved the submission game.

And his eyes focused on Alias’. Desire was in those eyes, desire to be #30, desire to go on to ACW Legends with a guaranteed spot in the main event against the World Champion.

He entered the ring, and nodded to the timekeeper.

The bell was sounded, and the contest began.

Alias threw several cautionary knee strikes, using his considerably Muay Thai background to try and keep Williamson off balance. Justin didn’t seem to care, shooting in from the side, and managing a double-leg takedown that deposited Alias on his backside.

He looked slightly embarrassed, but that wasn’t why he covered his face. It was to try and lessen the impact of Williamson’s forearms, which rained down HARD on the head of Tyr.

Alias, for his part, wasn’t going to stand for that, and he reversed position, throwing his own forearms and elbows down at Justin. Williamson backed out from under him, and both returned to a vertical base, glaring at one another.

The former ACW Champion nailed Williamson in the ribs with a kick, knocking Justin back a step. He responded with a chop to the chest, and both men exchanged chops and kicks until Williamson went down to one knee.

Smirking, Alias went to take Justin’s head off, but Williamson ducked, and the kick passed harmlessly over head.

Williamson popped up to his feet, and cinched in a waistlock. Clearly, Justin wasn’t trying for a long match.

He was trying to end this thing, STAT.

GERMAN SUPLEX!

With the bridge!

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Still relatively fresh, Alias kicked free of the German, but he now realized what kind of a bout he was in store for. Quick and violent.

Fine by him, really.

Williamson charged as Alias rose. This proved to be a mistake, as Alias SURGED from his knees to DECK Justin with a vicious clothesline. Williamson fell to the canvas like a shot, and Alias covered in turn, grinding his forearm across the bridge of his opponent’s nose.

ONE!


TWO!


KICKOUT!

Williamson, despite having been hit rather hard right in the face, was not willing to concede. He rose to his feet, and was immediately knocked silly by a HARD knee lift to the gut from Alias.

Alias sneered, firing off another, before shooting Williamson into the ropes. It seemed like another lariat was coming, but Justin slid underneath this one, hitting the far side of the ropes and nearly denting Tyr’s skull with a leg lariat that caught him between the eyes.

No cover followed, as Justin looked down at Alias. More would be needed.

Smirking, the PRIME superstar picked Alias up, and doubled him over with a straight boot to the midsection. Air tore free from Alias’ gut as Williamson wrapped arms around his waist.

Justin lifted Alias vertical, holding him there for several seconds before yanking him down, head-first to the canvas.

When it came right down to it, the piledriver was such a disgustingly simple move. It was also disgustingly effective.

Williamson covered again, wanting to get the contest over so that he would have as much as possible left for End Game.

ONE!


TWO!


But again, Alias refused to go down. His shoulder came up after the two, but he knew that he needed to turn the tide. Clutching at his neck, he kicked away at Williamson, who was trying to pick him back up.

It wasn’t as effective as he would have liked, however, as Justin simply avoided the blows, and picked Alias up, going for a vertical suplex.

The veteran, however, had other ideas.

Alias blocked the suplex, hooking his leg around Williamson’s to prevent the move. Two shots to the gut from Williamson followed, and he tried again, but once again, Alias stymied him.

A big right hand from Alias caught Williamson in the face, followed by a second. He swung with a third powerful blow, but Williamson neatly caught it, and took down Alias with a single arm DDT.

Wasting little time, he segued the move into a Fujiwara armbar. The referee checked Alias, but he knew that the odds of Alias submitting were somewhere between slim and none.

Justin shrugged, and proceeded to try and tear Alias’ arm off.

Gritting his teeth, Alias crawled the few feet over to the ropes, draping his right leg over them to force a break. Williamson looked down at Alias, shaking his head, before throwing a stomp.

And another.

And another.

And ano--CAUGHT.

Justin’s eyes widened as Alias’ hands GRABBED his foot. Alias began to stand, with Justin hopping on one foot.

Alias was not going to allow an enzugiri.

KNOCK-OUT KICK!

OW OW OW.

The powerful right boot of Alias crashed into Williamson’s temple, dropping the former PRIME Tag Champion in a heap.

One arm shot in the air. Clearly, Alias was ready to end this contest and take his rightful spot at #30. Then, he would have another shot at the title that he was most identified with.

He shot Williamson into the ropes.

Here we go.

A-BOMB!

OVERROTATED!

Williamson managed to land harmlessly on his feet before a bewildered Alias. Justin lashed out with a right hand to the midsection, before double-underhooking Bigby and spinning into a sitout face buster.

THE FORCE OF WILL!

Williamson flopped to the side after the move, trying to push himself back up and behind the downed Alias. What he had in mind was his submission finisher, and his personal favorite move.

Justinian’s Code would give him the victory he so greatly desired, and thus he waited for Alias to stand, waited for the chance to sink the move in.

But Alias remained down.

Justin frowned. He probably should have covered after the Force of Will, as it was unfolding, but he slowly moved in to go lock in the Code.

Mistake. Alias was laying in wait with a back mule kick. Both heels caught Williamson in the gut, and Alias rose to his feet.

If he was going to end it, now was the time.

A-BOMB.

ONE

TWO

THREE.

And just like that, End Game’s Beginning and End were determined. 

Winner > Alias

Deep Breath

It had been a while since Iceman was on television. After his embarrassing loss to The Loser several shows ago, it was Silver HAWK’S idea (or, rather, it was assumed to be Silver HAWK’S idea. Iceman received the news through a different backstage member) to pull Iceman off TV for a little bit, so he could clear his mind, and try and start over.

End Games was soon to be his rebirth. He would fight The Loser one more time, beat him, start brand new… and walk into the End Games match… with an actual chance of competing.

Iceman walked down the hallway, as the All-Star-Tron turned on, and the crowd didn’t really give much of a reaction. A video match-preview appeared, inviting the fans to watch the second match, a “bonus match” if you will, against Iceman and The Loser.

How come Pay-Per-Views always ruined their potential by adding a “bonus match” no one cared about?

Iceman tightened the tape around his left wrist, before biting the final piece off and tossing the roll to the ground.

He was ready.

No theme music played as he made his way out from behind the curtain. 

OFF CAMERA
Insurance Policy

Vince Jacobs was down in the bowels of the Alumni Hall in New York. He walked over to a trunk near the shadowy area of the basement and took himself a seat. Jacobs wouldn’t normally be seen in some place dark, damp, and disgusting. Vince looked around surveying his surroundings.

“Are you here?” Vince said still looking around

“Yes I am.” A disguised voice spoke from the shadows

“Is everything ready for tonight. Because I don’t want anything to go off without a hitch. It has taken me too long to get this plan right for him.” Jacobs continued

Nothing from the shadow area.

“I am going to assume that is a yes. Listen man don’t fuck this up or I will have your hide for this.” Jacobs said as he stood up

Nothing again from the man in the shadows.

“Tonight everything will be what is right with the world. I will have Jasmine back and I will have the World Title around my waist. Make sure it gets done.” Jacobs said with a grit of his teeth as he walked from the bowels of the basement.

“You’re right Vince, everything will be right by the end of the night.” The disguised shadow voice said.

GRUDGE MATCH
Iceman versus The Loser

In normal matches, or any title match for that matter, the higher ranked person would normally come out last. Iceman knew this, and he knew his recent loss to The Loser put him in the ring first. Iceman wondered if the ACW Pay-Per-View was even SHOWING his entrance right now, or if they had gone to promote Legends instead. Iceman assumed since he had yet to pick a theme song, and as the crowd began to head to the washroom, or concession stands, they more than likely weren’t showing his entrance.

Maybe, as Iceman entered the ring to utter silence, they weren’t planning to show The Loser’s either.

“Loser” by 3 Doors Down cued up, and the fans, well, once again did nothing if they were one of the few that stayed in their seats. The Loser came out, pointing directly at Iceman and laughing. He has confidence now! Sure, he was a loser, and so was his father and father before him, but even a loser was able to shine once and a while. For everyone better than you there had to be one worse… right?

The Loser giggled with insanity as he rolled into the ring, but before the bell went, he was jumped on by Iceman. The Loser fought off Iceman’s right hands as he was whipping into the ropes, but ducked under the clotheline. The Loser bounced off the next set of ropes, dropkicking Iceman to the mat, and laughing as he got up.

The Loser grabbed Iceman’s foot, and set it on the bottom rope. He then jumped up, and came crashing down upon Iceman’s leg with his entire body.

Iceman whaled in pain as he rolled around the canvas. The Loser just laughed again as he grabbed Iceman’s leg… and drove his elbow down into it. He repeated this offence three more times, before dragging Iceman to the ropes again, and crashing all of his weight down on that same foot.

By now the pain became constant. Iceman clutched his leg but it didn’t stop The Loser from going after it. TL went down on the mat, and tried to twist Iceman’s knee apart as he used his own body to apply pressure to it. Iceman raked the eyes of The Loser, but TL didn’t release the hold. Iceman tried it again… this time being able to escape, as he got to both feet, and limped forward to the ropes.

The Loser rose. He saw Iceman coming… and rolled right out of the way. Iceman’s same left leg jammed into the canvas. The missed dropkick might not have been a smart move, Iceman thought. He was using the same damn leg that was already being worked on.

“Stupid!” Iceman shouted at himself, but there was nothing he could do, as The Loser laughed once more before finding that same leg, and driving his elbow down into it.

“Stupid!” Iceman shouted again, as he saw more people in the crowd start to head to the washroom. Just what he needed… a strategy match with The Loser… when he NEEDED to have a fast-paced, interesting match instead. How was leg work going to get the crowd into it? How was leg work going to keep Iceman on the cards?

It wasn’t.

And Iceman needed to do something fast.

As The Loser stood up, about to drive his elbow back down into Iceman’s knee, the former PIW Television Champion (yeah, don’t ask… no one knows how he beat Overdose…) used his right foot to kick The Loser away.

TL shot into the ropes, as Iceman once again used his right leg and tripped The Loser up. TL fell flat on his face, and that gave Iceman enough time to get up.

He ran to the ropes.

No.

He limped to the ropes.

“GOD DAMMIT!” He shouted. Iceman couldn’t even *run*! He needed a fast-paced match… but he couldn’t even put the F in fast. He could put the F in fuck though, which was the word he said after The Loser got up, and dropkicked him right in that same knee.

The Loser giggled again. Bloody hell he was getting annoying!! The Loser grabbed hold of Iceman’s knee… set it down on the ropes, and again smashed all his weight into it.

Iceman rolled on the canvas… his eyes glazed over in pain… as he looked across the rampway, as a young couple and what looked to be their kid, no more than seven years old, as he waved a home-maid Iceman sigh in the air.

“A fan?” Iceman thought, but he soon came to the conclusion he was too delusional to know this for sure. Instead he figured if that was a real fan, he’d have to fight for him. As The Loser once again set Iceman’s foot down on the bottom rope (yes, The Loser had a VAST range of maneuvers), Iceman kicked his leg up, and caught TL with a low blow!

The crowd stayed silent. They’d have only cheered if this match was something they cared about. Besides, as noted, there was hardly anyone in the crowd right now.

Iceman slowly used the ropes for his own leverage, as then, as he fought the pain in his head, did Iceman walk over to TL, pick him up, and scoop slam him hard to the mat.

He then hit the ropes.

And he was running hard.

SLAM!

Leg drop.

Iceman didn’t cover though. He needed a little more offence than this!

Iceman hit the ropes again, and this time performed a standing splash!

He looked over to the front row again, and yes!… it was true… there were a young couple sitting there, in-between them a kid waving a little homemade Iceman sign!

Iceman pointed to the top rope. This WAS The Loser, he could’ve had the match won right there… but instead he wanted to win full-out… so it was up to the top-

Iceman paused.

He clutched his knee.

There was no way!

He must have twisted it while exiting the ring ropes!

“DAMMIT!” Iceman yelled, but before he could do much more, The Loser was up and he hit the ropes across the way.

CRASH!

A body-smash into Iceman, and it sent him flying into the guardrail! The Loser giggled again as he left the ring, grabbed Iceman, and then tossed him right back in.

TL nodded. Right back to the knee.

He drove an elbow into it. Once. Twice. Three times.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Until almost EVERYONE fell asleep. Some even wondered what was worse… a Triple H promo, or this.

Bare with us, but, we might go with Triple H. He at least had that cool mustache to look at!

The crowd finally started to boo. And then the “boring” chant kicked in.

The Loser then took Iceman’s leg, and whipped him into a half-boston crab.

Iceman tried to fight it. He was starting to get really mad too. He was sick and tired of losing already. He was sick and tired of looking like a joke.

For the first time in ACW, and maybe even his life, Iceman was bloody furious!

He didn’t even know it, but he was beginning to lift The Loser up with his upper body. He was beginning to kill off the hold!

However The Loser buckled back down, and drove Iceman’s chest straight into the mat.

Iceman still had the power to fight it though. There was no way he was going to let The Loser win this time!

… Until he saw it.

Across the ring, in the front row, that same boy with the Iceman sign slowly put it down. He looked at his father, then at his mother… and nodded.

They got up, and headed to the bathroom.

“WHAT!?!?” Iceman yelled… his face going red while he raced through a million feelings his mind couldn’t figure out.

“GOD DAMMIT!!”

And with that, he just quit. Iceman tapped the mat, and The Loser’s arm was raised in victory.

Moments after, Iceman stood, limped to the outside, and once again, as he did the last time he was on ACW TV, did Iceman run himself into the ring post. He needed medical attention to be helped to the back.

Winner > The Loser

The Quiet Things Nobody Ever Hears...Until Now

Sitting in this back area alone, I can’t help but feel the apprehensiveness fall over me like the deepest fogs of London. It’s not long until I start getting ready for the biggest test I’ve ever had to endure.

I don’t know why, but the crate I’m on right now. I sit and I feel fine, knowing full well what lies before me in a matter of minutes. I come back here to think whenever my mind starts to unravel. Good thing I’m wearing my gear now…plus a leather jacket. Gets cold back here. Aside from speaking with Seymour I haven’t done much talking over the course of the past few weeks. Having your idol rip your heart out and throw it against the wall isn’t something I’d like to endure. I don’t wish that kind of trauma on anybody.

I kept on fighting for the weeks after that incident where twenty-two stitches had to dam up the crimson river that was running down the landscape of my face. All I wanted was a battle in the spirit of competition. The old Alias was deep inside the metallic and impregnable shell of The Tin Angel. Somewhere. But I couldn’t get him out. The Angel condemned me to a Hell that changed my reverie completely.

So badly, did I want in this sport. I wanted nothing more than to be like the idols that I had grown to watch. Watching Rob Van Dam make history by holding onto the ECW Television Title for almost two straight years. Seeing “The Black Plague” Ruben Ross defeat Ric Chronos for the fWo World Heavyweight Title at 2001’s Countdown One. Watching Jimmy “Superfly” Snuka take his first big Splash off that cage, educing a mass hysteria of cheering. Eddy Guererro fighting the demons that plagued his life in order to finally become the WWE Champion.

Those are but a few of the moments that high flyers in professional wrestling have accomplished. I follow in the footsteps of each and every one of them before me, hoping to be that next yardstick that future generations can measure themselves to be. Then for the first time in my short career following the brutal battles with Max Danger and Violence Jack; I had doubt in my heart. I had the little voice inside my head telling me to pack up my shit and go home.

But my heart told me another thing.

ACW is my home now. And I will stay with it to the very end. Even though I’ve had my heart ripped out by a man I thought I could call an idol…even though in a mere matter of moments I have the opportunity to rob a friend of that which he worked hard to gain…even THOUGH I’m about to enter the ring with four men who have a bevy of experience that I cannot fall back on…I stand here now.

I’ll be pushed around. I just know it. I’ll be poked in the eyes. Slammed around the ringside area. Have my nuts kicked into my throat to gag upon. But I’m not going to let that deter me. Not anymore. I’m tired of having to look up to a hero in order to save the day.

Tonight. I AM the hero. 

LAST MAN STANDING MATCH
THE LOSER LEAVES ACW
Gacy versus Oswald

It amuses me when common folk refer to my art as fake. Professional liars and scumbags, ignoring their own hypocritical tendencies. My body has been carved up, my bones broken, and my friendships ended. When I contemplate the things I have sacrificed for the business that has outlined my life ... I almost wish those cocksuckers were right.

Reguardless, I was still about to enter into the most important fight of my life. It wasn't about a title, not this time anyway. This was about restoring faith in myself as a human being. For years, I have allowed myself to become a follower to a man who always claimed to keep me in as high reguard as himself. It took the tainted goals of a stranger to open my eyes to the truth. Joshua wasn't my friend, he was my dictator.

Watching his slow journey to the ring, I saw him as the confused young man he once was. Lost in his own anger and resentment for all those who had what he truly desired ... happiness. How I ignored this all these years is beyond me. So much time I assumed he was a wolf amongst sheep. Now I realized it was just a mask, decorating the face of just another scared individual. Gazing around the arena, it appeared as though the people in attendance had come to the same conclusion. He was a fake, and their harsh jeers magnified it.

Into the ring he climbed, rumbling the ground with each step. Gacy was still a superior grappler, and I couldn't let myself forget that fact. Any openings I give him will surely end my brief career here in ACW. I had to be smart, and calculating. I was sure to take a beating from this man, but there was no room for panic. Losing focus at any point would be damaging to my campaign, even for the slightest period of time.

As he stood across from me, it seemed like an eternity before the bell sounded. Under the mask all had come to know as my face, I could hear only the sound of my own deep breaths. The rumbling within the stands became an afterthought as I glared through his eyes. This wouldn't be Gacy vs. Oswald ... this was Joshua Michael vs. Noah Riley, and neither of us would have it any other way. I'm sure that deep down he wished that he could go back and change the way he had treated me over the years, but he was shit out of luck on this evening.

We circled eachother slowly, forgetting even that there was an official inhabiting the same ring. It wasn't like his presence mattered. His only job was to hold the mic to the defeated's lips as he screamed for mercy. There would be no rope breaks, or count outs ... admittal of inferiority was the only way out of this hell. I pictured our first clash to be memorable, and it was.

His massive paw clenched to my neck, as mine did his. Monsterous grunts bellowed from deep within both of our chests as the crowds collective breath went silent. His grip tightened as I could feel myself losing traction. A burst of energy escaped from within my heart, and I pushed back with great force. Joshua's eyes opened wide with suprise as I pushed his frame into the turnbuckle. He wasn't about to give up our first battle that easily, and we traded momentum against the ropes. By the time we hit the second turnbuckle, I had already grown bored with the quarrel.

"Get the fuck off me!" Gacy had barely regained his position after the shove, before it hit him that I had spoken aloud. The shock upon his ugly mug was invigorating, and overwhelmed even my own suprise. But that wasn't a victory I cared about tonight, and it wasn't going to make this any easier. This became apparent as Gacy charged at full speed. This proved reckless as I side stepped, and executed a fairly decent drop toe hold, plowing his face into the second turnbuckle. Gacy was only stunned, and I had to capitalize.

Getting back to his feet, I caught him flush with two hard forearm shots, which sent him realing to the opposite rope. I could sense the crowd's rising excitement as I went to irish whip the man I used to call my friend. Joshua knew what was coming, and reversed the move. At the rate I was moving, I had no time to react as a firm back elbow caught my jaw, instantly sending me to the canvas. I cringed as the weight of my body crashing into the mat sat me back up. I had little time to react as Gacy grabbed a large sum of my hair, and pulled me to my feet.

I had always been considered the enforcer of Fall of Adam, leading many to forget just how strong Gacy himself was, myself included. He quickly lifted me off my feet, and I felt helpless in his arms. This emotion was quickly replaced with agony as my ribs crashed against his knee. The crowd winced for me as Gacy rose back to his feet. Confidence had once again consumed him, but rather than wasting time with the people, he opted to go for the immediate kill. Rolling me onto my stomach, Gacy straddled, and pulled my arms over his thighs. Wrenching in, Gacy locked in a merciless Camel Clutch.

I couldn't decide what hurt more, my neck or back. It didn't matter really, too much damage to either body part could easily do me in. It was early enough in the match that fatigue hadn't set in, and crawling to the ropes was a relatively easy task. This of course didn't break the hold, but it gave me something to pull myself back to my feet with. Gacy remain clutched to my back like a primate, and wouldn't release the hold. Instead, he wrapped his thick forearm around my neck, locking in a rear naked choke. My air supply was immediately cut off, so I did the only thing I could to break the hold.

Knowing the landing would be uncomfortable, I lunged backwards, squashing Gacy between myself and the canvas. I could hear the gasp exit his throat, as his grip loosened from around my neck. Rolling off his body, I struggled back to a vertical stance. Only slightly injured, Gacy did the same. I had to strike again, and I did with a stiff lariat. Gacy rolled over, and only was able to get to one knee before I delivered a sick boot the side of his head, followed by another. The blood thirst was taking over, and before I knew it, Gacy was in my grasp.

"Ruuaahh!!" With everything in me, I tossed Gacy over my head with a half and half suplex. Our bodies collided with the canvas simultaneously, and I could feel victory in my grasp. I knew it wouldn't come this soon though. Gacy surely was nowhere near defeat, and I wasn't about to try. So as Joshua lay still on the mat, I exited the ring, and went to ringside. Storming towards the audience, I found one particularly atimate fan. He was wearing a Sars T-Shirt, and was already on his feet, so I figured he wouldn't be needing his chair anyway. With a simple point of my finger, the fan got the hint, and couldn't be happier to oblige me.

Closing the chair, I turned back towards the ring, and slid under the bottom rope. Taking the weapon in both hands, I waited as Gacy got back to his knees. I wanted him to see what was about to happen to him. Just as his hazy eyes caught mine, I realed back, and swung with all my might at his skull. The sound of metal meeting bone was sickening, at a level I didn't even expect. Gacy teetered back, but did not slouch. This to me was invitation for another. So I obliged, and I swear the second shot was even louder. Still, the bastard wouldn't fall.

I needed more impact, more speed. So taking the chair in one hand, I sprinted for the ropes. On my return I lifted the chair to level with his forehead, and lept into the air. The only thing louder than the third sickening crash was the overwhelmingly positive reaction omited by the crowd. ACW chants soon followed, and I couldn't help but give in to the ovation. I got back to my feet, and soaked in the adoration for what may have very well been the first time in my life.

Gacy was too fucked up even to clutch at his now bleeding face. Without my approval, the official jumped to Gacy's side with the mic in hand. Placing the stick next to Gacy's head, he asked my fallen opponent if he would quit. To my chagrin, all the crowd heard was a belligerent "Fuck You."

Very well then, the carnage would continue. Turning my back to the bloody man, I lodged the chair between the second and top turnbuckle. I turned back to find Gacy crawling towards the opposite turnbuckle, as crimson drops bounced off the formerly clean mat. Delivering a couple "WHOO" inspiring chops for good measure, I hurled Gacy in the direction of the metal object he had already become acquainted with. Unfortunately for me, the son of a bitch held on to my wrist and used my own leverage to my disadvantage. Attempting to stop myself only furthered my eventual collision, as my head continued forward, and met flush with the already dented steel.

I couldn't help but grasp at my skull as the pain shot through my head. Both of us now lay on the mat, attempting to return to our normal mind set. Despite what some critics say about chairshots, they weren't anything to laugh about. Not only is your head pulsing with agony, but your equilibreum is immediately thrown out of whack. I've actually thrown up following a shot to the head before, imagine what that was like in a skin tight mask. Luckily, this ocassion wasn't quite as lethal, but still fucking bitter nonetheless.

Gacy was the first back to his feet, and he wasn't through with the chair. I could see his silhouette approach, and then the cold touch of the metal pressing against my throat. I could barely get a hand up to relinquish the pressure somewhat before he could get all of his weight behind it. Beads of sweat from his hair trickled onto my mask as phlegm began drooling from his mouth. His eyes went red with anger as he attempted to rip the life from me. With my mind still woozy from the shot to the head, it was becoming difficult to stop the strangulation. As this assault took place, the fucking official had to do his job, and held the microphone to my mouth. I'm not really sure what he was expecting. It wasn't as if I could admit defeat even had I wanted to.

Besides, I didn't want to, and I wasn't about to. With a small burst of energy, I kicked Gacy in the back, and sent him into the turnbuckle. With him still in control, I had no choice but to roll out of the ring. I gripped my neck, and struggled not to cough. I placed my hand on the guardrail, and made the mistake of forgetting I had a very dangerous man on my scent. Barely able to catch the blur in my sights, I felt his broad shoulder sink into my abdomen, and drill me into the unforgiving rail. Our combined weight pushed the barrier 2 rows deep, and left me in a heap on the disgusting concrete.

I felt Gacy leave my side, and all the eyes of the paying fans around me. I had let down my guard, something I knew would kill any shot I had of walking out of here with a contract. I had nearly handed Gacy this victory on a silver platter, and nearly made me want to quit right there. It was then when an unexpected vision came to me. Through glossy eyes, I could see a familiar face in the crowd, smiling back at me. Just as I remembered him 7 years ago, Adam Weiss stared deep into my eyes. He was dead, I knew this. Nevertheless, he gave me a reason to continue.

So closing my eyes, and shaking the cobwebs loose, I lost the vision of my childhood friend. I slowly got back to my feet, just in time to see Gacy finishing up his task. He had erected a table at ringside, and was making his way back towards me. Helping me back to my feet, he lifted my limp body onto the apron. Joshua soon followed, and hoisted me onto his shoulders. Just before Gacy was about to hurl me through the wooden structure, I was able to slide down his back. We turned to eachother at the same time, and from somewhere I couldn't even explain, I delivered the hardest Roaring Elbow I had ever thrown. With the near knockout blow, Gacy's only means of standing upright were the grasp of 3 fingers on the rope.

This was my opening, and I had to take it. Pushing Gacy's head down, I clutched him around the waist, and lifted him onto my shoulder. Walking towards the turnbuckle, I carefully climbed onto the second rope.Turning my back to the ring, I could see a wave of people stand to their feet. This was my moment, and there was no way in hell I was going to waist it. So I took a deep breath, and took one more step up. Unable to fully gain my balance, I lept into the air, and just hoped the table would help break my fall.

With Joshua still over my shoulder, this was my gift to the world. This would be my ...

ODE TO ADAM WEISS

... Right through the table. Gacy's face and stomach lead the way through the vile weapon. The wood splintered into hundreds of pieces as our bodies crashed to the hard floor. Gacy's body went completely limp in my arm as I laid in peace. I ignored the pain for as long as I could, allowing the crowd's cheers to seap in. The arena was going crazy, and their chants were nearly orgasmic. A true sensation overcame me that I had only thrived for in my miserable existance. Nearly 30 seconds had passed before I fought back to my feet. Pushing pieces of debris aside, I regained my composure, and stared back at my greatest enemy. I watched on in horror as his eyes opened, and coughs of blood exited his mouth.

His pupils regained focus in the bright lights, and he glared back at me. His blue eyes were taunting, and at that moment, I forgot this was a contest. My blood now boiling with hatred, I retrieved the sharpest piece of wood I could find. Kneeling down beside Joshua, I took the new "shiv" in both hands, and raised the weapon above my head. The expression Gacy saw was nothingness, a product of the mask I had come to be known as. It was my eyes that told him the story of how serious I was. Just as I went into my death strike, I could hear the words I never expected from this man.

"I QUIT!"

And I stopped, inches from piercing his chest. With my heart pounding at maximum speed, the fear in Joshua Michael's eyes were enough. This wasn't about ending his life ... it was about taking back mine.

I could hear the bell sound, and my name being announced over the P.A. Gacy's head collapsed back into the debris, with more appreciation for his life than he had ever attained. Our anthem once again played, as I stood over the man they call King Kill. Victory was mine, and it felt good. It was then when I realized I no longer wanted to deny myself the world. I no longer wished to just be another anonymous extra in this world. My mother gave me a name, and a face. I wanted to experience this life as I was intended.

Calmly placing my hand upon the southernmost part of the latex mask, I pulled the facade from my face. I could feel the cold air of the arena attack my face, cooling the burn marks that had tainted it so long ago. I could hear a gasp from the people, but it didn't matter anymore. This is who I am, and they will have to accept me. For I am Noah Riley ... and I am Reborn.

Winner > Oswald 

Tightrope

Alot of people in wrestling talk about "make or break" nights.

SilverHAWK, was never a true believer of, "make or break" nights.

Until tonight.

Looking at the figures, and the bills for the night, only an overwhelming success would give ACW a positive for the evening, and at this stage in ACWs long life span, one thing they needed, was a positive.

So what made tonight different from any other PPV night?

Well.

Would it have been good business for rival promotions to allow ACW permission to not only their superstars, but also they're names, they're wrestling gear, their merchandise and also their copyrighted music and video montages for their grand entrance.

This past week had been a nightmare for SilverHAWK, as dealing with Mickey Mouse had been far more gruelling than he had ever dreamed of, he just hoped that they put on a show tonight.

And lost.

Because he certainly didn't want them showing up again.

An ACW man had to win.

For the sake, of ACW.

ACW UNITED STATES CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
HARDCORE SUBMISSION
Kelly Flawless[c] versus Sars the Clown

Dr. Hook's 'Cover of the Rolling Stone'

CHA-EER- BA-OOM.

The arena nearly exploded; not a single fan was in their seat... and every last one was screaming.

The sound was deafening, the experience was riveting, and even Perfection's heart skipped a beat.

He emerged from the curtain, the United States Championship draped over his shoulder, and a smirk the size of Iowa plastered upon his chiseled mug.

Perfection had arrived, and there was no denying it its objective... well nearly no denying it. 

In a night where epic matches were on large number, this was one that definitely had some meaning, and some odd fixation with most of the people currently watching ACW, due to the challenger, who came in second.

He was just that kind of guy.

"Byte your rhymes" by Mindless Self Indulgence.

Enter: Sars the Clown. 

It was surreal to see a man so genuinely happy while surrounded by genuine hate. Sars quick-step'd up onto the apron and did his one-handed front flip over the ropes. Blowing kisses to the crowd Sars jumped up onto the near turnbuckle and started air humping in the audience's direction.

...and thus they stood face to face, sneer to grin.

"Too bad clown." Kelly started as the ref looked him over. "If had just played nice like a good like boy- you wouldn't be in this situation. At first...everyone merely *thought* you were a joke. After tonight...they'll know for sure."

Sars smiled. "Kelly the only thing people are going to find out tonight is how perfect you are. =)"

Kelly frowned. "Huh?"

..."Perfect for the role of 'Jizz-drinker' in Gaping Man-ass III"

Flawless raised a fist.

Flinching, Sars put his guard up. "WAIT! ---I'm warning you, Flawless! If you strike me down...

I shall become more powerful than you can ever imagine!"

The ref looked at the clown- as he checked him over... "You stole that line from the Simpsons."

The clown frowned. "It was from FAMILY GUY, ASSHOLE!"

Kelly smirked. -"Actually it was from STAR WARS."

Big boot to the mid-section. The bell went off (not that Kelly noticed) and the blonde bombshell clobbered Sars with a series of overhead forearm blows. Whip to the ropes----sledgehammer lariat----ducked! By the time Kelly turned around- Sars had made his way to the apron and up onto top rope---springboard hurricanrana--POWERBOMB.

The crowd erupted the moment the clown's back splashed against the canvas. Kelly grabbed Sars leg and tried to pull him into the center of the ring, but the clown desperately kicked away at the Kelly face until he let go. Sars made for the ropes- bounced off and ducked a bit boot attempt from Kelly.

Kelly turned around and it looked like the clown was going for some sort of dropkick; instead Sars dove headfirst into Kelly's midsection with his own head. The head butt was used to mask what came next- was a quickly executed rolling leg lock. Flawless' face immediately twisted in pain as he crawled for the rope break.

Sars wouldn't let go and the ref was forced to basically explain the rules to the clown as he still held on, absorbing the boos from the fans. The clown released the hold and began to ruthlessly kick away at Kelly bandaged leg. Pulling Flawless up by his hair- the clown slapped his opponent about the face a couple of times. "Come on, you fucking ape. Get up!"

Slap! Slap! Slap! Three rapid fire shin kicks to the bridge of Kelly's nose! The clown then synched in a front face lock and pulled Flawless to the center of the ring planting him with an Implant DDT...

...held into necklock/sleeperhold.

Then that typical thing happened, where the Kelly acts like he's about to drift off into slumber land but instead powers out- returns to a standing base, charges- then rams Sars back into the nearest turnbuckle. Kelly made with the face smashes and whipped hard into the turnbuckles on the other side of the ring. Soon Flawless came charging in like a bull right after diving into a wicked looking SPEAR...

..which the clown easily evaded.

Sars, as crafty as ever, slid under the ropes and onto the apron. Kelly had nearly thrown himself out of the ring with that move and now Sars- armed with sharp tooth grin- was quick to capitalize with a leg drop to the back of the neck that nearly caused Flawless to spill out from between the ropes. The clown hopped down onto the floor and waited for Kelly to try and regain footing...

...before pulling his injured leg out right from under him. Next thing Kelly knew- he was feeling the bite of the steel pole against his bandaged knee. The entire ring shook as the pain in his joint sent jolts up his spine.

Boos whirling around him, the clown just stood there staring at Kelly as he wiggled about the canvas in pain.

This was the moment he decided to reach under the ring and pull out the ol' steel chair.

SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! ---Three wicked shots across Kelly's knee. Finally, Sars decided to just pull Flawless completely out of the ring onto the floor outside. Chair in one hand, a tuft of Kelly's hair in the other...the clown pulled Flawless to his feet and jammed his face into the steel steps.

Flawless was bent over now- his ass reflecting in the psychotic clown's beady little eyes.

Smmmmmmmaaack~!

BOOOOOOOoooooooooooo.

Embarrassing.

Smmmmmmmaaack~!

BOOOOOOOoooooooooooo.

Distasteful.

Smmmmmmmaaack~!

BOOOOOOOoooooooooooo.

...and just plain wrong.

Sars, in his fury, had decided that the best way to teach an intellectual inferior a lesson was to spank him with a chair.

"Ha. Ha. HA!" -he chuckled, quite pleased with himself. --Putting a foot on Kelly's backside...he walked across his back to the other side of the steps.

Glaring down at Kelly's head as it hung over the steps the clown spat: "I'm the joke? I'M the joke? ---No, buddy. You're the joke." ---and with that he raised the steel chair.

SMAC-Clang!

Kelly rolled out of the way!

"What the fuck?" --The clown couldn't believe it. Kelly lay on this back catching his breath and Sars decided to climb up onto the steps.

Kelly looked up: "Big mistake, stupid clown."

Up went Kelly's foot into the steps, the steps blasted out from under the clown sending him (chair and all) down to the floor. Kelly was quick to limp over to the Sars and throw him head first into the barrier. Sars tried to the get to his feet, but it was too late- Kelly had already snatched up the chair and cracked him over the back with a solid chair shot. Followed by another and another.

Then- turning the chair upside down- Kelly drove the edge of the chair downwards into the clown's spine. The violent assault continued on in the fashion- Kelly wielding the chair like a jackhammer and savoring every moment of the clown's agony.

But he wasn't done.

Kelly unfolded the chair and sat it- back first- against the barrier.

Then, he pulled the clown to his feet...and after body slamming him into the floor once or twice for good measure...he sat Sars in the chair.

Upside down.

With Sars punch-drunk and looking more like the letter "L" than a wrestler...Kelly welcomed his fans to hold onto Sars legs as he went to "grab the steel step really quick".

That's "audience participation" for you.

The people in the front row were giddy with a lust for violence.

Kelly lifted the steps over his shoulder and made his way over to the clown.

Oh, if Sars only knew what Kelly had in mind.

Hovering over the clown, steel steps over his head....Kelly looked calm.

For all of 3 seconds.

Then he screamed.

It was actually more like a war cry. One that was purely designed to wake the clown up.

Sars did indeed open his eyes.

But the only thing he saw was black steel barreling towards his face.

Then?

Stars.

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT

In his rage- Kelly kicked the chair from under Sars and then kicked the steps off of his face.

Kelly looked down on the clown with a grin. However the match turned out now- he got one thing he wanted out of this match.

First Blood.

Kelly soaked in the admiration of the fans, before finally pulling the clown to his feet and rolling his bloody-self into the ring. Flawless took this opportunity to pull out some of the other 'goodies' that had been stashed under the ring (compliments of the ACW ring crew).

First- Kelly pulled out a table. It had been a long time since he put anyone through a table and now was his chance to sate an inherent need for over-the-top violence. This is the match that would allow it, so why not? He set it up on the outside- a little bit closer to the turnbuckles than usual...but that was all apart of his plan.

Second- was a trash can. Lid and all. When he rolled it into the ring its contents came spilling out; which was a long chain, about the length of his arm.

Lastly but not leastly was a bag which he shook- giving way to that tell-tale sound.

Tacks.

He thought of emptying the bag into the ring...but he got a better idea. So, yeah, the tacks? They're scattered across the table.

Back in the ring the clown was finally starting to stir so Kelly thought it best if he got himself by into the mix of things. Sars was already on one foot- looking to be well on his way to somewhat of a recovery- but Kelly would fix that.

Pulling the clown by the hair, he hammered him with some obviously illegal-but-really-who-gives-a-shit closed-fisted punches. Then he lined him up with the turnbuckle; gave 'em the old Flair chops routine. A hit with the marks AND a hit with the ladies. Especially when you blow a kiss after each stinging chop. Ever the showman, Kelly was.

But that would cost him.

Just as Kelly prepared to whip the clown to the other side of the ring- Sars snuck in an eye gouge.

And a foot stomp.

Then a slap.

Counter-punch from Flawless = ducked.

Then another slap.

Kelly went for a grapple, but Sars saw that coming a mile away and took him to the mat with a drop toe hold. Which incidentally enough, put Kelly within inches of the trash can lid...but the clown was smart enough to dive for it first. No need for a struggle after that- Slam slam slam slam!

Now Kelly's head was ringing. =(

Was Sars' speed mention yet? Because he's fast. So fast that before anyone could blink- he had set the lid over Flawless' ribs- bound off the rope and impacted the lid (plus Kelly's kidney) with a baseball slide. One which sent Kelly spilling outside of the ring.

Sars would've loved to have had a chance to catch his breath. But that wasn't going to happen...he had to hit Kelly with something big and he had to do it now.

So the clown did the only thing that came to mind.

He picked up the trash can...

...turned it upside down...

...and calmly placed the trash can over his entire upper torso.

Was Sars' outright stupidity mentioned yet? Because he's fucking stupid. So stupid that before anyone could call him stupid- he had bounded off the ropes...charge and then suicide dive over the rope with the trash can still on his body, like some kind of kooky retarded missile.

One could comment on the incredible ring presence it takes to pull something like that off- but fuck it.

That shit was dumb.

That shit was so dumb it made everyone's stomach hurt.

But hey- it worked. Kelly was out...and...

..well so was the clown.

Ok, so maybe it didn't work all that well. But after a couple of seconds- Sars was the first to stir so that's good. Right?

Right.

After pulling off the trash can (and calmly ignoring the TABLE w/ TACKS that appeared from nowhere), Sars took it upon himself to continue to 'soften up' Kelly's injured leg. He didn't want to over do it (that's a lie, yes he did)- but he couldn't help but think that Kelly should be more injured than he was. Didn't matter anyway, because now the clown was about to get straight up niggerish on that knee.

So, nonchalantly, he reached into the ring and pulled out the chain.

Wrapping it around his fist- he synched Kelly's leg in an ankle lock and started hammering away with the chain. Of course this inspired the hate of the crowd, as it looked like Sars was actually trying to end Flawless’ career- not simply win the match.

After than bit of fun was over...another bit of fun began in the form of Sars whipping Flawless with the chain like a runaway slave. Whap! Whap! Whap! - Kelly's cries filled the arena and in typical Sars fashion- he laughed- from the gut, maniacally.

Slickly, Sars twirled the chain in his hand until it wrapped around his fist.

"Alright, ya fucken fancy faggot." Sars spat through his own blood. "It's your turn to bleed."

But not before rolling Flawless into the ring. Sars followed after and kicked away at Kelly's face, before pulling him to his feet and whipping him into the turnbuckles.

The clown ran, cart wheeled, backflipped, twist---CHAINED-FIST IN THE FACE!

Quickly Sars jumped unto the turnbuckles and began plugging away with his link-wrapped knuckles. Every blow that landed seemed to swell Flawless up more and more, until finally a wound popped open and his hair took on an orange hue. The crowd didn't even count off the number of punches- what was the point? The clown had gone way over 10 and the ref wasn't having much luck of prying Sars off of Flawless.

"Get off of him, dammit!" -The ref yelled. "HEY! That's enough."

Then he stopped.

His head slowly turned and his chained-hand drifted to his side- crimson still dripping from it.

The ref started to back up.

Sars came down and started stalking towards the ref..."Listen, fuck-o. I'll tell you when I've had enough."

"I- I...I disqualif-"

POW.

And out goes the ref.

"I'm sorry? I can't hear you?" - Sars rattled the chain. "Can you hear me, ref? Because I CAN'T HEAR YOU."

Sars picked the ref up and put him in a headlock.

POW.

"Can you hear me, ref?"

POW.

"How about now?"

POW

"Can you hear me NOW?"

Sars then tossed the ref out of the ring like yesterday's garbage.

The clown turned to check up on Flawless.

Gone.

Gone?

There was a stain of blood where he stood, before the hefty Alaskan was no where to be found.

SMACK!

Chair to the back of the head.

"You think you can go around hitting refs, clown? When the fuck will you..." SMACK!

"Learn." SMACK!

"To treat people." SMACK!

"With some fucking respect!!!"

Kelly dropped the steel chair and picked up Sars.

Whip to the ropes.

Big boot.

This would buy Kelly enough time to set up the steel chair against the turnbuckle. The crowd rumbled with anticipation for what would happen next.

With Sars dead center of the ring, Kelly shoved 'em between his legs in a standing head scissors. -The dead lift into a powerbomb-position...

Spin. Spin. Spin. Until he was facing the chair again...then with a feral yell he charged the turnbuckle and then discharged Sars from his grasp.

Turnbuckle power bomb into chair w/ HOLY SHIT chants sprinkled on top?

Yeah, appears so.

Kelly *still* wasn't done. He pulled Sars out of the corner and locked him...

...in the Lion tamer.

It was his hope that he could either break the clown's back now or soften it up for later. It did cross Kelly's mind to make Sars tap- but that would've done no good because the ref was still knocked out and bleeding. It didn't look like another ref was going to be rushed out anytime soon.

Good.

He wanted his exclamation point, his potential for maximum damage to be realized.

Kelly put a foot on top of the clown's back and slowly raised a fist in the air causing those in attendance to cheer in his honor. With a grin plastered on his face- he pointed outside---to the tacks covered table. Finally it would be put to some use.

Pulling Sars to stand by his green as envy hair...Flawless walked him over to the turnbuckle and sat him up on the top rope.

Frankstiener? Power bomb?

Nope. None of the above.

One foot went to the top...and then the second foot. Thing were getting very dangerous, very quickly as the fan didn't think Flawless was small enough to maintain the balance need to stay up there. But, it fine because the Alaskan mastermind was smart enough to Sars as a brace. If he fell, he'd be taking several locks of the clown's hair (and maybe he WHOLE head) with him.

Finally, Sars was pulled to standing...

...a hand went around the neck.

Was this happening? Was Kelly going to really chokeslam clown into all those tacks and the unforgiving wood of the table?

No, it wasn't.

And you smarky fucks didn't need a spoiler alert to figure that out.

The moment Kelly started to lift, the clown put his hands on his huge shoulder and then...jumped up...very quickly and very precisely put his legs around his neck.

And then guess what happened?

THIS HAPPENED.

The only difference being Kelly was Hurricanarana'd into a table full of tacks.

The crowd had no choice but to begin chanting HOLY SHIT, annoying clown or not- that was what these blood marks came here for.

But wait.

There's more.

The moment Kelly's feet hit the floor he jumped back into the ring and grabbed the crunched up chair from the ring and began the climb the very same turnbuckle he launched Kelly off of.

"What the fuck is he doing now?" -one fan commented. Sars added to that confusion as he got to the top rope, held the chair close to his person and then turned his back on Kelly.

Before anyone could have time to reach any conjecture, Sars was in twisting in mid-air- add a 450 degrees to that and you've got a recipe for the disaster that is:

Phoenix Splash w/ chair!

OOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

All up in the wreckage, both men were completely out of it. Finally a ref came down...make that two refs.

Both of them checked on the wrestlers- somewhat fearing for their lives and their careers. The hurricanrana was one thing but the phoenix splash + was something else entirely. How could the clown do something that crazy? Simple. It was because he was exactly that- CRAZY.

They raised both hands at the same time.

One time.

Both fall helplessly to the floor.

Two times.

Hands limp to floor again.

Three times?

There was no third time. Sars' hand shot up a second before Kelly's...but Flawless hand shot up all the same and that a feat in and of itself.

The officials started to back away as Sars got to his feet- picking out stray tacks from his forearm and spitting up saliva and blood. Flawless was up- but on all fours- very slow about getting to a vertical base.

"Grrrr...Why won't you DIE?" Sars screamed.

'That's it', the clown thought 'It's time to stop fucking around.'

...and that's when the box of light tubes came out.

Now the clown wasn't dumb. He knew well enough to lay in wait and use the element of surprise in his favor. Kelly, as predicted, got to his feet and couldn't find the clown. The refs didn't know where he was either- how'd Sars slip away from them so quickly they had no idea. Kelly rolled back into ring and looked around- he expected the clown to jump him from behind any second...but he didn't.

The officials were count down now and if the clown didn't show up- then that was the end of the match. The crowd? Then knew he was under the ring- all they could do was boo. It wasn't like Kelly could hear where he was over the roar of---

Wait.

Out of the corner of his eye Kelly saw the ring apron fluff up a bit.

"I knew it."

And out crawled Flawless to inspect.

Which, of course, we a huge mistake on his part because out came Sars from the other side with a single light tube in his hand. Up-he went onto the top turnbuckle. Sars shouted- Kelly turned and...

CRASH!

Blood everywhere.

Sars threw Flawless back into the ring, followed by his precious light tubes and began crashing those tubes over Kelly's injured leg one by one.

Crash. Crash. Crash. Another and another and another. It was like a game to the clown.

But this game...was wearing thin.

A minute ago, something only seemed to not be right.

Now, he was sure.

Soon Flawless was the one that was laughing- even as light tubes explode on his leg. Like the Hulkster himself, Flawless was taking the brunt of Sars' offense like it was nothing. Soon Kelly let himself up and Sars' blows had no effect.

The Alaskan stood there laughing. Chuckling deep from his belly.

Then it hit him.

Sars looked down at Flawless’ leg.

'Oh no.' -he said to himself. No no no.......

"FUCK!" - the clown yelled.

How could he be so stupid? How could overlook what should've been obvious from the start of this match?

Kelly's right leg was the one that Sars had injured.

The bandage was on Flawless’ LEFT leg.

"FUUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKK."

Then Sars dropped to his knee and the coward that everyone knows him to be came out.

"Please...please...don't...I...I...I'm sorry? Come on man! Don't hurt me!"

Kelly just smiled and stared blankly.

He could smell the clown's panic now.

"OH SO YOU'VE NEVER MADE A MISTAKE?

WELL FUCK YOU."

Flawless started to walk toward Sars.

"I made you!" Sars (wildly) claimed. "Everyone knows I'm a good lucky charm every since that time George Bush named me his running mate 1978!! So why are we fighting? You should be THANKING ME! Hating ME made the people like YOU."

Kelly wasn't impressed.

"OK, then you leave me no choice...."

...and then Sars tried to crawl away...

...Kelly snatched up Sars and then promptly put him in a hold he had been saving for this very occasion.

THE ALASKAN LEG LOCK.

It was the standard Scorpion Death lock, but executed by a man of his size and ONTO a man of Sars' size?

Forget about it.

The clown struggled with the pain- stalling on the decision he knew he had to make or face what happened with Flawless’ knee- only this time with HIS back.

tap tap tap

Winner > Kelly Flawless

Preparing

Vince Jacobs sat in his locker room lacing his boots up for the biggest match in his long ACW history. He was about to battle for the ACW World Heavyweight Championship Title that he claims he never lost. Jacobs was ready to Keller out for all the things he had done to Vince and Chris for the past month.

Jacobs continued to lace his boots while he was in deep thought.

“Tonight is my opportunity to make history and to end Khristain Keller all in the same night.” Jacobs thought to himself.

THWWATTT… Another lace of the boot

“For almost a month I had to sit back and hope that maniac hadn’t done anything to my precious Jasmine. My darling Vicki, not sleeping and in pain because our daughter was not in her crib. I had to endure sleepless nights and countless phone calls from my family asking the same questions, when was Jasmine coming back?”

THWWATTT… Another lace of the boot

“Tonight all the pain and sleepless nights will end. Tonight I unleash all of my pain, hatred, vengeance, and utter disdain on the man known as Khristain Keller.”

THWWATTT… Another lace of the boot

“He not only pissed of a Superstar, but he pissed off the Tin Angel himself. Chris and I will never be best buds again but as long as Keller has our children then we will both do anything to get them back.”

THWWATTT… Another lace of the boot

“Tonight an impact will be made.”

What Lies Ahead...

Max Danger was moments away from the big Five Man Elimination Match that put both of Seymour Almasy's title belts -- Scorpion Fighting and Television -- on the line. Not only was it his first title match of any kind in ACW, it was the first time he'd challenged for a championship in any company in nearly two years.

But while that was big, it wasn't what he was about to speak on. Funny, wasn't it, that the biggest match for Max since his recovery from back surgery -- and probably his biggest match since... well, since Action! Wrestling was still in business -- wasn't even on his mind? Who else but Max would be looking toward what lied ahead.

So, he was forgoing the annoying and talentless Kristen Jacobs -- and was even leaving his wife Jessica out of the mix -- and speaking directly into the camera with only a concrete wall as a backdrop.

"Tonight, you guys know the story. It's my first title match anywhere in almost two years. It's the first big test of my return. Blah, blah, blah. You know all that. So that's why I'm not going to talk about any of that. Instead, I want to talk about one man. An individual who doesn't even compete in All-Star Championship Wrestling.

"And no, I don't mean my heterosexual life-mate Coral Avalon. Although, he is doing well and enjoying his time away from the business -- for the most part -- in Japan with his girlfriend."

Max looked down at his wrist and checked the imaginary watch.

"I'm sure she's due for a good cry right about now, too. But I digress.

"No, this man will be making his return to an ACW ring.

"Kenjiro Ito."

Danger was nodding his head, showing that he was definitely looking forward to that return.

"He and I will be going one-on-one for the first time ever. Only this time, the only way anything will be on the line is if I defend one of the belts I win here tonight. The dumbass actually LOST his Ambassador Championship at the last Jolt Wrestling PPV.

"But that doesn't matter. Kenjiro, I will succeed where Alias failed. I may not be taking a belt from your waist, but what I will be taking means a whole lot more.

"Your pride. Your dignity. And maybe even a little bit of your life."

The King of Submission looked dead into the camera, his face as serious as it's ever been.

"Simply put, Ito, I will beat you."

Fade. 

  
ACW TELEVISION AND ACW SCORPION TITLE MATCHUP
FIVE WAY ELIMINATION
Seymour Almasy[c][c] versus Andy Sharp 
versus Lowell Dot Com versus Max Danger versus Violence Jack

Five men.

Two Titles.

One gigantic five-man clusterfuck.

The rules are kinda nutzoid, but that’s SilverHAWK for you. This is elimination and it’s for Seymour’s two titles. He has to be pinned twice to be eliminated. First fall over Almasy wins that person the Scorpion Fighting Title. Second fall over Almasy wins the TV Title and he’s gone. The match will keep going until there is one survivor. Don’t get the rules still? Well, fuck you. :-)

Andy Sharp and Seymour Almasy had fought against Lowell Dot Com and time and time again, the Endorser had trouble with both so he brought in an insurance policy to take them out via Violence Jack. Turned out the evil despot had agendas of his own that revolved around putting the head of Seymour Almasy on a pike.

Then Max Danger and his wife came along. Max had one simple credo that the now prickish former A!W star lived by: ALL YOUR TITLES ARE BELONG TO MAX. He got off to a rocky start in ACW with losses to Andy and Sars The Clown, but picked it right the fuck up big-time when he fought to a 45+ minute draw with Seymour Almasy for the TV Title then defeated both he, The TV and Scorpion Champion, but also the US Champ in Kelly Flawless.

Now with a head full of momentum into this match, any one of the five men could walk out of this match with a title. Question is…who would walk out with what and could Seymour Almasy even manage to keep ONE of the titles, let alone two?

And we would start off this shindig with “Money” by Pink Floyd and a huge amount of jeering. Best way to kick off a match, eh?

The Endorser and one half of Stranglehold made his way out from behind the curtains, eating a can of Pringles. See, he was originally going on to a strong training regimen courtesy of 24 Hour Fitness and shill them, but Pringles offered more money. What a whore. Plus, they kept whoring Shaq or some stupid shit. Plus plus, Lowell’s self-made Pringles diet kicked more ass than having to get up and do all that sweating and exercising.

Hopping onto the apron, he flipped over the ropes impressively and made his way into the ring and threw both fists into the air like he had destroyed everybody in this match and won both the TV and Scorpion Fighting Titles. Yes, the Shillin’ Villain was a simple man. Eerily simple, sometimes. So simple, scientists were still baffled how this guy seemed to have functioning motor skills. Well, he came to a rest in the corner, so here we go.

WE DO AWAY WITH YOUR KIND…

“Puritania” by Dimmu Borgir.

A red shroud of lights flowed through the Alumni Hall as the Pariah Saint, enshrouded in his signature black robe, made his way out. He was alone for this match, as Horace Tully was busy with Dallas Jones tonight. A rarity for VJ nowadays, but anybody that dares doubt the might of Violence Jack has to remember that by his lonesome, this man had defeated greats in Coral Avalon, Jeff Garvin, Sonny Silver and Karina Wolfenden in the span of one night. Fighting many adversaries at once was not something he wasn’t used to.

Making his way to the ring, he stared at his former employer for a moment before slowly ascending the steps. He climbed up the steps and made his way into the ring. He was THE veteran of this match and that gave him a big advantage over the younger guys in Andy Sharp and the TV/SF champion in Seymour Almasy. There was even a large gap in between him and Danger, who ranked in at about eight years or so, give or take a couple.

Sneering in contempt at a jeering crowd, he disrobed to reveal his heavily tattooed body and flexed his muscles, waiting for his opponents to come out as his music cut.

FUCKIN’ POSERS!

“Rock Star” by N.E.R.D.

And make way for, quite possibly, THE favorite in this match to win. One victory already over Semyour Almasy from a tag match last week. All he’d need to do is beat him again and either one of Seymour’s beloved titles will belong to him.

With the ever-lovely Jessica Danger accompanying him as always, The King of Submission walked stoically down to the ring while never taking his eyes off Violence Jack. The two worked together but any time they had been in that scenario, an overwhelming cloud of tension would always be felt by them and all those around him. Now they would come to blows. There were no allies here.

Max came to a stop in front of the ring and surveyed the squared circle closely before walking up the steps. Jessica kept to the outside, not wanting to really get into this action and hopefully not being a factor in it. He climbed through the ropes and hopped to the turnbuckle, standing atop it. Tonight, he wanted to make it his domain and prove that everybody was simply dirt beneath his misbegotten, Buffy-loving feet.

Once he hopped off the turnbuckle, he shot a deadly stare at Lowell, the fuckface that dared cost him his first match back and the yanker of his wife’s hair. Then one equally intense stare at Violence Jack capped off what would be the arrival of the Danger Man.

UNO…

DOS…

TRES…

CATORCE!

And for once in this contest, they fans CHEEEEEEEEEEEERED!

“Vertigo” by U2 hit the speakers and out came the Pikeville resident, Andy Sharp. Walking into this match, he didn’t have as big a wave of momentum as Max Danger did, but he did hold victories over both Lowell and the Danger Man himself. That, at least, was something to convalesce his confidence. And The Lord of The Skies was also a big asshole to these men in one giant aspect: his heart.

It guided him through brutal battles with Alias, Max Danger, and Mark Morris over the past two months and when his back was against the wall, he somehow pulled victory from defeat.

He hopped onto the apron a la Brock Lesnar before walking over to the nearest turnbuckle, climbing it and raising a fist into the sky to a huge pop. Smiling to the crowd, he did a great backflip off the turnbuckles and landed on his feet, shooting a look of “I ain’t taking no shit tonight” towards the other competitors.

“Otherworld” by KAZCO and the Black Mages.

And then there were five.

The TV and Scorpion Fighting Champion stepped out apprehensively from the back. When last we left him, he and Sharp both suffered defeat at the hands of Max Danger and Violence Jack. This time, he was ready. He HAD to be. He had to live up to his credo to deal with every last menace to the name of ACW.

And as he made that slow walk down to the ring, he was punched in the fucking face by Violence Jack.

Yeah, you read that right.

Seems like The Pariah Saint didn’t want to waste any time with waiting for him to get into the ring. He was ready NOW. The music of Almasy cut out as he dropped both his titles to the mat as Violence Jack pummeled him relentlessly with knees and elbows to the head and back of the skull.

WHAM! Max Danger joined the fray in the center of the aisle, rushing right in with a big running elbow to the back of Violence Jack’s head. Fans went apeshit soon after as Mr. Whatever Night Courage Comes On made his grand appearance, turning Max Danger around, then BLASTING him with a big European Uppercut that sent him sailing into the nearby guardrail.

As The Lord of the Skies and The Danger Man continued to brawl and Seymour Almasy was able to mount a vicious forearm-to-the-face-of-VJ-induced comeback, Lowell stood in the ring, still eating his Pringles.

“Heh heh heh,” he laughed evilly. “Good entertainment, indeed. Soon, I shall have a title to call my own. I shall call it Lowell Jr. and teach it how to own ACW’s collective ass. And shill. Shilling’s good. SHOP AT WAL-MART!”

“You know, you HAVE to compete in this if you want a title,” the referee pointed out.

“Fuck you, you suck.”

Ref: :-(

As Lowell continued to eat, Andy and Max began to fight right back towards the ring, the two exchanging blows. Andy went to slam Max’s head into the steel steps nearby, but he blocked it and nailed Andy with a big thumb to the eye. Stunned, Sharp staggered backwards and was the victim of quite a few more elbow shots to the head before he was Irish whipped VICIOUSLY into the steel steps!

The steps were knocked over and Andy crumbled in a heap. Danger then turned to seek and destroy more people, but as his back was turned to the ring, The Human Advertising Machine found the perfect opportunity to baseball slide dropkick him! As he went down, Lowell slid to the outside and proclaimed his dominance as King of the Online World…or some shit.

Picking his spot wisely, he hooked Danger around the waist and let him have it with a BIG Exploder Suplex onto the unforgiving mat. He didn’t land on his head, thankfully, but that didn’t make the move hurt any less on Danger’s previously injured back. Lowell then ran towards Andy and smacked him right in the face with a big running Foley-style knee, sending him rolling right next to Max.

“I got your ass, you disproportionate freak of nature!” Lowell screamed into Andy’s ear while laughing boisterously before rolling him back into the ring.

CLANG~!

That would be the sound of Violence Jack’s head bouncing right off the barricade in the aisle where he and Almasy had been brawling. With the Bringer of the Black Gospel down, Almasy saw his partner in danger and decided to help out by making a beeline for the ring. Lowell had Andy by his hair, but Seymour slid into the ring, turned him around, and BLASTED him with a big elbow before throwing him to the ropes…

JECHT SHOT!

Lowell went down faster than Paris Hilton for a buck before Almasy tried to pin him down with a lateral press.

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

Lowell powered him off before climbing to his knees. Almasy buried his boot into his gut and went for a DDT, but Lowell blocked it and took down The Final Fantasy with a nice Northern Lights Suplex into a pin!

ONE!

TWO!

KICK OUT!

Almasy hadn’t fought through his hellacious wars with Danger, Sars, and Violence Jack among others to simply fall to a move that hasn’t beaten ANYONE since the Mesozoic Era. Lowell climbed back to his feet and started to stalk over Almasy, but a big forearm to the back, courtesy of ANDY SHARP stopped that. Andy turned him around and hooked him for a vertical suplex. SCORED!

But he held onto the suplex in the middle of the ring and lifted him up. SUPLEX NUMERO DOS! Then a final Eddie Guererro-style pivot before hoisting him up…YES! Andy had scored with a big Hat Trick on The Sellout V.2 before kipping up to his feet. The Lord of the Skies sought to live up to his moniker when in one fluid motion, he leapt to the top rope, NO HANDS, then flew backwards, coming right across the chest of Lowell with a big Rounding Moonsault that got him a nice pop. Afterwards, he went for the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO!

Lowell fired a shoulder up off the mat, but the Cavalier wouldn’t be denied. He needed to eliminate someone, consarn it!

He picked Lowell up to his feet and let him have it with another big uppercut, but the wiry Shillin’ Villain dodged it, only to jab a big thumb into the Pikeville native’s eye. Once staggered, Violence Jack finally slid into the ring while Lowell continued to pound upon the rookie. He made his way over towards him, but Almasy cut him off at the pass by running in and scoring with a big dropkick that knocked the Pariah Saint on his ass.

Seeing his friend in danger and returning the favor, he ran to the corner where Lowell was blasting away at Andy with chops and tried to help out…WHAM~! A Rolling Koppou Kick from the recovering Max Danger prevented that from happening. He looked down at the fallen Final Fantasy for a moment, but then turned his attention back to LOWELL.

He grabbed the Endorser by his pants while Lowell kept screaming, “Hey! What the hell?!?! Gravity, stop being a bitch! I was beating on that Andy punk! I W…” A MASSIVE elbow to the back of the head stopped him from talking any more (Thank God) and Lowell ate a big-time Asai DDT! The fans clapped at the great show of athleticism that Danger put forth, but now it was time for him to kick even more ass.

Picking up a fallen Almasy, he hooked him for a DDT and spiked him into the canvas. Then climbing out onto the apron, he made his way slowly to the top rope and smirked an arrogant smirk for a brief moment before FLYING off the top and crushing 183 pounds of Final Fantasy-loving Almasy with an Off The Top Rope Splash!

ONE!

TWO!

KICK OUT!

Almasy would survive just a little bit longer, but not if The Danger Man had anything to say about it. As long as this kid had two titles to take, Danger would have his ass. (Not in the homosexual way, mind you. Lowell, we’re not so sure about.)

He threw a big elbow smash into the face of Almasy, sending him sailing into the corner where Danger rushed in to try for another Koppou Kick. Well, possibly, because Almasy moved. Danger stopped himself before he attempted anything and turned around…right into a BIG Thrust Kick from Violence Jack that sent the Danger Man tumbling out of the ring.

Seeing his opportunity, the Bringer of the Black Gospel sneered at Andy Sharp before heading to the corner he’d been trapped in all this time to wail on him with more vicious forearms. He then whipped him halfway across the ring, but Andy LEAPT onto the opposite buckle with no hands, jumped off, turned in mid-air and caught VJ with a big sunset flip!

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

VJ popped him right off and before Andy could recover, a big knee to the head was his reward. After this, he grabbed Andy and hit him with a big-ass Inverted Atomic Drop before hitting the staggering Andy with a powerful short-arm back elbow shot that rammed Andy’s nose right through his fucking brain…or that WOULD have been the case, had this match not been bound by the laws of physics.

Before VJ could capitalize any more, however, Almasy went into the fray and wrapped his body around VJ’s in a flying head scissors before SPIKING him into the mat with a mother of a DDT. A loud cheer resounded from the crowd as Almasy kipped up to his feet before him climbing to the top ropes this time.

LUNATIC PANDORA!

The Moonsault-into-Legdrop combination drove a big leg right across the throat of Father Shanahan, who flopped around the ring grabbing at it while The Final Fantasy cringed around the ring, holding his butt. Hey, that move would hurt, I figure. :-)

Andy was down. Violence Jack was down. Seymour Almasy was down. Danger was still trying to pick himself up on the outside, so that left one person.

Lowell was back up. And he didn’t want to be outdone by all these fucking non-shilling morons around him.

“I will NOT be outdone by all these fucking non-shilling morons around me!” Lowell shouted. See? “This is PAY PER LOWELL, GODDAMN IT!” With a steady climb out onto the apron, This-Space-For-Rent made his way up to the turnbuckle overlooking the announce table before climbing the ropes. With a big-ass grin on his face, he yelled to the sky for all to hear. Goodie.

“THIS FUCKING AWESOME HIGH-FLYING MOVE FROM LOWELL HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO YOU BY PRINGLES, SPRITE, SUBWAY, CHIPS AHOY, AND EVEN THE LITTLE PEOPLE THAT MAKE THOSE CLEANING PRODUCTS BY THAT CLOSET FAG, MR. CLEAN!”

And he dove off with an actually decent looking Senton Bomb right across the chest of Andy before climbing back atop his body and grabbing both legs.

ONE!

TWO!

KICK OUT!

The Superduperfly kicked out of the tremendous Lowell maneuver, but he kept on Andy and picked him up before attempting a neckbreaker. This turned out to not be such a hot idea, for Seymour kicked him in the gut and drove him face-first into the mat with a wicked Final Fantasy I! The kneeling facebuster doing its job, Seymour popped back up to meet Andy Sharp face-to-face in the center of the ring.

An intense stare down between the two friends ensued as they smiled at one another for a brief moment. They both knew it would come down to this, but not so soon into this already fast-paced match-up. So both then locked up for a Collar-and-elbow tie-up…at least that’s what Andy wanted to do, but the smaller and faster Seymour slid under his legs and as he twisted around, “WHOO!” “WHOO!” “WHOO!” “WHOO!”

Four hard chops to his taller chest stunned him before Seymour whipped him into the ropes. Or he tried, but Andy’s big strength advantage gave him the power to reverse it. As he came off the rebound, Andy went for a dropkick, but Seymour stopped himself, grabbed Andy’s legs and slammed him down to the mat in one fluid motion. He then ran to the ropes and bounced off the third rope, looking for a high-angle Quebrada, but Andy rolled out of the way. He climbed to his feet and stunned Almasy with a big “WHOO!” chop of his own, then scooped him up and slammed him into the mat before bouncing off the ropes with a Quebrada of his own!

Almasy rolled out of the way and made it to his feet just as Andy did, but when he met Almasy face-to-face again, the Final Fantasy grabbed him by his left arm and slammed it into the mat ferociously with a big-time Single-Arm DDT.

Before he could capitalize any more, however, Danger came right back into the fray with a BIG Springboard Missile Dropkick right into the jaw of Seymour. He was a bit pissed that VJ nearly knocked him out earlier, but he wouldn’t be for long. He grabbed Andy and picked him up by the tights before tossing him violently through the ropes and onto the floor.

Lowell was next in his line of sight as The Shillin’ Villain finally made it back to his feet again. He smiled at The King of Submission and asked how his wife was.

His response? STO!

Lowell’s brains (or what scientists COULD find of his brain) was smeared right against the canvas before he rolled to the outside for safety. With these nuisances out of the way, Danger could finally pick off the old fuckface that dared superkick his beautiful face in earlier. Speaking of, Violence Jack had recovered at long last from the earlier assault from Seymour Almasy and climbed back to his feet, taking notice of a stoic Danger Man.

There was no Almasy, no Sharp, no Lowell right now. Just those two.

Danger wasted zero time in locking in a tight headlock to keep the Bringer of the Black Gospel down momentarily. He continued to tighten the hold until VJ got enough strength in him to shove Danger into the ropes. On the rebound, Bruce caught him with a sleeper hold of his own. Crude, but effective.

“Give it up, jackal!” VJ hissed in his ear. “The Titles both belong to me.”

“Hello?” Danger grunted in between short breaths. “Max…Danger? Non-tapper?”

Danger delivered a swift series of elbows to the rib cage of Violence Jack, but he kept the hold on until he threw a knee of his own targeting Max’s formerly bad back. After the move, he pulled out a rather forceful OSAKA SEND-OFF, spiking the back of his skull into the mat. From there, VJ hooked the leg.

ONE!

TWO!

KICK OUT!

The resilient Danger Man got the shoulder up, but VJ continued to apply the punishment to him by slamming a few forearms across his face before applying another choking forearm to his throat. The referee began the five-count, but all Bruce Shanahan could hear were the anguished sounds of The King of Submission gasping for air. After that four and a half seconds, he pulled the arm away to avoid a DQ…before going RIGHT back to choking him.

Another 4 ½ seconds passed before VJ pulled his arm off. He grabbed the Danger Man by the hair and pulled him up to his feet before driving a boot into his gut and whipping him across the ropes. On the way back, he sought to connect with a big lariat, but Danger ducked. He bounced back…SHOT-NO! VJ ducked the high-impact strike and as Max came back once more, he walked right into a sharp powerslam/backbreaker combination.

Jack took a brief rest before deciding to continue with his masterpiece of stiff striking and brawling. He hooked Max back up once again, this time for a vertical suplex, hoping to rid the match of Max once and for all. He lifted-Max slipped out!

The Pariah Saint turned around and ate a BIG forearm smash to the face that sent him to the ropes. As he bounced back, Max went for the go-behind and applied the waistlock before sending him FLYING overhead with a brutal Release German Suplex. Satisfied, Max crawled over to the prone form of his opponent and hooked both legs tightly.

ONE!

TWO!

NEGATRON~!

Seems the old codger had a little (Read: A LOT) of fight left in him. He powered Max off him, but Mr. Dox went right back on the attack with Jessica cheering for him to take his fucking head off…or something to that effect. Applying a front facelock, he grounded Violence Jack before slamming a few clubbing forearm shivers down onto his back. Each blow looking more vicious than the last. After this, he pulled him to a vertical base with the facelock still applied before hooking him for a vertical suplex. VJ was hoisted---NO! Escape!

VJ landed behind him, but looked a little winded from the punishment from before. Max went for a big back elbow, but VJ ducked the shot. Once Max fully recovered, he got blasted with a big inverted atomic drop. Jessica cringed from the sick impact before Father Shanahan grabbed him and dropped him hard across the shoulder with a big ACE CRUSHER! STUNNER! STUNNER! OMG!!!!!!&$%&$ STONE COLD! STONE COLD!

…Ahem.

He threw himself right over Max’s body and applied a big forearm across the throat to keep him pinned.

ONE!

TWO!

KICK OUT!

“Damn,” Bruce muttered under his breath before throwing more boots into the sternum of Max. Satisfied a few moments later, he started to stalk Danger relentlessly. Possibly looking for one of his big-time moves in the R’Lyeh Anthem or Ode to Azathoth, he waited patiently for Max to crawl back to his feet. As he did so, VJ was on him like Dupin on a Chiaki picture.

R’LEYH….NO!

Danger successfully flipped out from the move and planted an elbow into the back of VJ’s head. He spun him around and hooked him for a Death Valley…ESCAPED! The two stared each other in the face before a big blur caught their attention simultaneously…

SHARP AS A TACK!

A DOUBLE Springboard Flying Clothesline from Andy Sharp knocked BOTH men down on their ass. Andy rolled over in the center of the wreckage while his other two opponents tried to comprehend just what the hell had happened.

“AN-DY! AN-DY! AN-DY! AN-DY! AN-DY!”

And with one big kip-up, The Highlight of the Night II made it back to his feet after the massive high-risk move. He let out a big roar of approval from the bottom of his lungs before picking Danger up first. The Whole F’N Channel tossed him into the corner and followed him right in with a big Stinger Splash!

Andy set his sights on Violence Jack, who had used the adjacent corner to pull himself up to his feet as well. It wasn’t fair to leave the 20-plus year veteran of wrestling out of this little party so Sharp flew right over to his corner and knocked the wind right of him with a second Stinger Splash!

Once more, Danger remained in the corner while still trying to recover from the splash from Andy. The breather would be short-lived, however, as Andy ran at him AGAIN. Danger evaded the move this time, rolling out of harm’s way…BUT…The Lord of the Skies hopped onto the top rope with NO HANDS before turning 180 degrees and popping Danger right in the mouth with a BIG missile dropkick!

The fans went nucking futs before Andy crawled over to his body and hooked both legs.

ONE!

TWO!

THR…NO!

Danger would not be denied a shot at the titles he so desperately wanted on this night. Andy grimaced and went to pick Danger up again, but SEYMOUR ALMASY came right back into the picture and connected with a massive springboard bulldog onto the man that he called his friend over the past few weeks. Once Andy was down, The TV and Scorpion Fighting Champion went right towards Danger, slamming a few big chops across his chest before whipping him into the ropes. Danger reversed it, but Almasy had the strength to pull him into a big boot to the stomach. He applied a reverse full nelson and tried for the Pandemonium, but Danger wasn’t having that shit.

He slammed a big kick into the gut of the TV and Scorpion Fighting Champion before wrapping his arm around Seymour’s head and DRIVING him into the mat with a big Reverse Russian Legsweep. Almasy bounced off the mat and flopped over onto his back while Danger hopped back to his feet.

Before Max could continue his assault on the champion, Lowell Dot Com finally picked a good spot to re-enter the fray when he ran up behind Max and nailed him in the back of the skull with a big elbow that sent him flying into the ropes. As The King of Submission stumbled backwards, he spiked him right in the back with a punch almost directed to the kidney. While Max arched his back, Lowell took the perfect opportunity to flip him around and hook him in a powerbomb. Shit didn’t look good for Max, but The Shillin’ Villain had some good news.

He just saved a bunch of money on auto insurance by SWITCHING TO GEICO!

The Powerbomb-into-facebuster made its debut at End Game and The Danger Man was reduced to being a gigantic smear on the mat. The Human Advertising Machine rolled his body over and hooked both legs, hoping to eliminate his rival over the past few weeks.

ONE!

TWO!

KICK OUT!

BARELY, Danger was able to kick out of one of Lowell’s higher-end endorsed moves. The Webmaster slammed a fist down into the mat and glared icy daggers at the referee.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Lowell screamed. “I HAD HIM! HIS HAS-BEEN ASS SHOULD BE GONE! OBEY YOUR THIRST!”

“Grow up!” The referee shouted back.

“I DON’T WANT TO GROW UP! I’M A TOYS ‘R’ US KID!”

But soon, the child known as Lowell Dot Com was about to get five across the eyes…well, it was more like a vicious punch to the back of the head, but whatever works for Violence Jack. He grabbed him by the neck and twisted him around into a vicious hangman’s neckbreaker known as THE DETONATOR!

Before VJ could go for the pin attempt, however, Danger was already back on his feet, clotheslining The Patriarch of Pain over the top rope and dumping him onto the floor. Violence Jack landed right near the announce table and tried to use it to pull himself to his feet. Once he recovered he spun around towards the ring, looking to exact vengeance. All he got for his trouble was a big Asai Moonsault Suicida from The Danger Man!

Whether the fans loved or hated the two giant scumbags that were Max and Violence Jack, the move was more than impressive. Danger and VJ both tried to recover from the wreckage, but already Seymour Almasy was back on his feet, pacing around the ring intently. He slowly ascended the top turnbuckle and gritted his teeth, looking up to the sky.

“Oh, mighty Yevon. Help me take down these two assholes,” he muttered to himself before FLYING off with a PERFECT Top Rope Moonsault Suicida onto BOTH Danger and VJ!

“HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”

My thoughts exactly.

In the mighty car wreckage of these people was Max Danger, Violence Jack, and the TV and Scorpion Fighting Champion near the announce table. Seymour was the first up to his feet, dragging himself to a vertical base with a big shove. Now resting amongst the apron, The Final Fantasy took a brief reprieve before he grabbed VJ and smacked him in the face with a big elbow.

The Danger Man started to pick himself up and crawl away cautiously while Almasy and VJ started to trade chops. They were suddenly halted when they heard a loud, obnoxious, whiny voice emitting the words, “BA-BA-BAH! I’M LOVIN’ IT!”

LOWELL DOT F-ING COM flew right at them from inside the ring with a Double Jump Crossbody Suicida! Now more bodies laid askew amidst the ringside area as the mysterious deities of ACW known as its seemingly nameless announce team called the action with huge amounts of gusto. Now the action had been brought right to them, but the fans began to stir even more when Danger entered the fray again, picking off the Blue-Haired Sellout.

Eating a big palm thrust, Lowell staggered backwards towards the barricade as Max continued his vicious assault. He grabbed a handful of his prized and sloppy blue hair before driving a fast series of elbows and boots to the gut to wear him down. Once ready, he nailed him in the chest with a big kick before applying the standing headscissors. The King of Submission was looking to prematurely end Lowell Dot Com’s life with a possible powerbomb over the barricade or piledriver of the sort, but he fought to keep himself grounded.

He had roughly twenty pounds over Max, but that didn’t stop him from trying again. He had him briefly - BACK BODY DROP OVER THE GUARDRAIL!

Max had gotten some big hangtime, sailing right over the barricade and landing onto a couple people, luckily. You know, for him. I imagine the people didn’t like getting hit by a flying wrestler. But lucky, I mean, he already had his back fucked up once before from a bad spill. One onto concrete would NOT be fun, either.

While Lowell crawled around the thin mats and Almasy and Violence Jack started to come around, one person had been forgotten in this entire ordeal. How the fuck do you lose a tall Canadian?!?!

Oh, wait. He was on the top rope, looking to potentially follow up the big series of dives with one of his very own. The NY onlookers continued to buzz, wondering just what he would attempt. He kept his gaze locked onto Seymour, Jack, and Lowell who were still down and out from all the moves taken over the past minute. Then the fans cheered again.

He turned towards Max Danger.

In the crowd.

He looked up to Heaven and did a quick Hail Mary and a deep breath. Time to live up to his moniker.

TOPE CON HILO INTO THE CROWD~!

Andy was twenty-two. Max was Twenty-Seven.

“AN-DY! AN-DY! AN-DY! AN-DY! AN-DY! AN-DY! AN-DY!”

Yeah, I’m just as shocked as you right now. Andy had risked all the fucking marbles and then some in order to possibly murder Max Danger where he stood. The fans came absolutely fucking unglued and gave a big standing ovation to the maneuver.

Slowly, Violence Jack rolled himself into the ring while pulling himself up with the ropes, but Almasy was there to greet him on the ring apron, grabbing him by the head and dropping him neck-first across the top rope. The Patriarch of Pain fell backwards, allowing Seymour to hop back inside the ring. Sure, his friend had nearly killed himself, but right now he had to worry about his titles.

Stalking his long-time adversary, Seymour readied himself when he found that right moment in order to pick him off. Just as Bruce pulled himself up to his feet, he threw a big boot into his gut and went for The Level Five Brainbuster, but Violence blocked it. Seymour kicked him in the gut again and attempted it a second time, but The Pariah Saint threw a knee of his own before hooking him for a suplex…

ODE TO AZATHOTH!

The VICIOUS Fisherman’s Swinging Neckbreaker had done The Final Fantasy in. Violence Jack knew it. All he would have to do is eat a motherfucking boot.

Wait, what’d I type?

Well, Lowell Dot Com had finally rushed into the scene and delivered a running boot to the chin of Violence Jack that had been so vicious, it would make William Regal cringe in terror. The brutal shot made fans gasp as a bloody lip became visible on the face of Father Shanahan. Lowell then rubbed his hands together at the fallen form of Seymour. Right now, he was easy fucking pickings.

He grabbed the seemingly dead Almasy by the hair and lifted him up…SELL OUT! One Full-Rotation Uranage Suplex later, he hooked BOTH legs of Seymour, hoping to secure his first-ever singles title!

ONE.

TWO.

And cue the THREE and subsequent “BOO HISS DIE BLUE-HAIRED FUCKER!”

Lowell was no Coral Avalon, but the blue-haired fuckface just managed to steal the Scorpion Fighting Title from Seymour Almasy, making it his no matter who eliminated him.

“Here is your winner…and the NEW Scorpion Fighting Champion…LOWELL. DOT. COM!”

He couldn’t believe it. He really couldn’t. Five years in the wrestling business. From humble beginnings in PIW to a brief stint in the fWo and now here. All-Star Championship Wrestling. His first singles title was now his. Lowell jumped for joy and began to do a rapid-fire series of pelvic thrusts in every which direction. Yes, even as I type this, I cringe along with you.

With a big pelvic thrust in every which direction, he screamed out, “BOO-YAH, ASSHOLE! BOO-YAH, ASSHOLE! BOO-YAH, ASSHOLE! BOO-YAH, ASSHO-”

He was cut off when the FRIGHTENING sight of an absolutely LIVID Violence Jack stood before him, bloody mouth and all. Lowell jumped back at the frightening sight and pondered what he could do. Well, running headlong seemed to be the appropriate measure as he attempted to throw a punch. VJ merely grabbed the fist and began to twist it so hard that The Human Advertising Machine screamed out in sheer pain. He was brought down to one knee before VJ AXEMURDERED him with a hard short-arm clothesline.

The New Yorkers were used to violence, given their residence, but this was just madness. He grabbed him again and took him right back down with a MOTHER of a short-arm clothesline before pulling the dazed Scorpion Fighting Champion up.

R’LYEH ANTHEM.

ONE.

TWO.

THREE.

ELIMINATED - LOWELL DOT COM

And just like that, The Bringer of the Black Gospel had just eliminated the Scorpion Fighting Champion from the match not more than a minute or two into his new reign.

With the Human Advertising Machin emaking his untimely exit from the ringside area, the remaining four gathered themselves, each standing in a corner of the ring(Almasy using his to steady the ship), eyeing one another. Danger broke across the ring with a AJ like flying elbow that collapsed the knees of the TV champion. Laying on the canvas with his head resting on the bottom pad, the Final Fantasy looked up through the haze that was a possible concussion and threw a few defensive kicks aimed at the mid-section of his attacker.

Sharp ventured across, slamming Danger in the back of his shaven dome with a forearm smash, and locking his hands around his waist. An attempted release German was back flipped out of by the Danger Man, as he landed and came charging in with a vicious drop kick that made a resounding CRACK when hit to the side of The Cavalier's head. Max brought him to a standing position and shoved him back into the corner. Danger was quick to fire off a series of rapid-fire forearms and take hold of his rest, Irish whipping him into the opposite set of corner pads.

Sharp backed out stunned and unprepared for the major head trauma he was about to be subjected to via another equally(if not more) vicious running drop kick in the rear of his skull that flopped him down onto his stomach. Danger dragged him to his feet, hoisted him up, and DROPPED him on his head with the Bestest Brainbuster in the Business!

A cover, and a

ONE!

TWO!

SHOULDER!

Meanwhile, VJ was taking it easy, standing in his corner watching mayhem ensue, arms crosed. He exhaled, before traversing over the canvas to meet a rising Seymour Almasy with a boot to the gut followed by a fist to the jaw. The 'Partiach of Pain' stuffed his head for a piledriver, only to have Seymour run him straight into the corner, driving his shoulders into Jack's thighs. VJ half crumbled, having to use the ropes to hold himself up, allowing Almasy to lift his head and focus in on VJ's legs. Alternating shin kicks aimed at the thigh muscle rocked VJ from side to side. Pain was etched across his face, and he was growing increasingly tired of being kicked. So what did he happen to do, one might ask? Well, firstly, he waffled the TV champ with a right and left, then charged out of the corner and MOWED him down with a lariat that turned him inside out, twisting in mid-air.

Danger loaded up a kick and unleashed on Sharp's sternum that would make you think gunshot. Andy rocked back on his knees, his neck barely able to support his head it seemed, as Danger moved back to where he had been before, readying another brutal kick(utilizing his kick pad, of course). Run, swing, FOREARM BLOCKAGE. Sharp rose, dropping Danger with a European uppercut. Almost immediately as he dropped, Sharp grabbed his head and started kicking wildly at his face ala Low Ki. Now, Sharp may not be known for his kicks like some, but he can throw. The camera focused in on the King of Submission's face -- eyes clenched tightly shut, sweat jeweled on his foreahead, cheek bone swelled... Sharp dragged Danger to his feet, corner whip...

Follows him in... AVALANCHE ROLLING KOPPOU KICK!

BRAINBUSTER--DENIED!

'Hey, bitch, those are MY dance steps you're stealin'', thought Danger, well... retro 70's Danger, anyway. You get the point. Danger was MAD upset about having his combo stolen, and halted to the attempt by dropping out of the brainbuster attempt. He grabbed himself some hair and yanked Sharp back into an inverted front facelock.

Inverted Bestest Brainbust--NEGATRON!

Thanks to a little bit of random ass kickery by one Violence Jack, Sharp was spared. VJ had turned, seen Danger, and ran into him full tilt with a knee to the small of the back. Danger pitched, and Sharp landed on his feet in front of him. The Cavalier turned seeing Danger and VJ, and leapt and connected a DOUBLE DROPSAULT! Danger took a back bump; VJ merely staggered.

That son of a bitch just WOULD NOT go down!

Sharp immediately followed up with a forearm shot that stumbled VJ back once more. He took hold of him, setting him up for the brainbuster he'd never gotten to hit earlier on Max--SPEAKING of Max, he just happened to have recovered and gotten to his feet just as Andy was about to jerk VJ up for the busta~! 'The Danger Man' maneuvered his hand in and around Sharp's arm and locked his hands behind his neck.

DRAGO("OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!")N SUPLEX~!

The crowd popped like mad for the picture perfect Dragon Suplex Max hit that folded 'The Cavalier' up in a very awkward and painful-looking way. And somehow, Danger managed to roll backwards up and over Sharp and pull him back to a standing position. Reverse Trifecta? Naaaaaa! No need for that. Danger released one of Sharp's arms, letting it drop limp at his side, and then brought him to the mat with a Crippler Crossface! He was trying for a submission.

As Danger cranked back on the hold, VJ had his hands full with a reguvenated Seymour Almasy. Seymour had run and splashed VJ in the corner he was standing it and was landing some 'unflashy' fists to the head. He turned, seeing that Sharp was on the verge of tapping, and booked it across the ring. He leapt, dropping the double-axehandle across the back of Max's neck and partly between his shoulder blades. The result? A pissed of Danger who STILL had the Benoit's hold clamped on. That = not good. Sharp's back was sickly arched when Seymour finally scrambled back to his feet.

LARIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATO~!!

THUD!

A face(not neck) impacting lariat FLOORED the Television champion. Violence Jack shook the dull ache from his arm and turned to lay in on Max with kicks to the head. Instead, Max was already to his feet and chopping the Holly hell out of his chest. Danger looked like a man possessed as he backed VJ up against the ropes and took a punch to the head, unflinching.

'COME ON!' Max shook furiously, as he tore into VJ. He grabbed him by the wrist and Irish whipped him to the ropes. He followed him in, hitting a leg lariat that caught him just underneath the chin and sent him up and over the top rope. Max grabbed VJ and headbutted him continuously and pulled his head between the middle and top rope(so he's almost hung on the middle, dazed), before taking off into the ropes on the opposite end of the ring. He returned...ROLLING KOPPOU KICK! Jack plunged to the floor on his back.

Max's arm bent and he hiked up his elbow pad while gazing across to Almasy and Sharp(who were just now getting to their feet.) A smirk crossed over his face. Max got into a defensive stance, ready for the double onslaught he was sure would come at any second. And it did. Almasy and Sharp charged into him. Max kicked Seymour in the high, fending him off, then knocked Sharp away with a back elbow. 'The Final Fantasy' grabbed Danger from behind and pulled back his arms. In an instant, he had set him up for what many expected to be a Tiger Suplex. However, after kneeing Max in behind the knee joint, and pushing him to his stomach on the mat, it was clear that this wasn't going to be a suplex of any kind. Hell, Max was on his STOMACH. No, this was going to be FALLEN WINGS!

Seymour's version of Cattle Mutilation.

Bridged on the mat with your torso clearly exposed isn't a smart place to be in any kind of match, let alone a multi-person match, and let alone a Five-Man. 'The Whole F'N Channel' moved around Almasy, thinking about what he wanted to do. One of Almasy's feet were lifted off the mat and being use to throw kicks aimed at Sharp's thigh and ankle in a desperate attempt to keep him back while he waited for Max's shoulders to pop.

Sharp caught one of Seymour's kicks, taking hold of the leg and flipping him over into a back-mount on Danger. Straddling his body, the TV champ pulled back with all his might on the double chickenwing. Max's lower back was in so much pai that he wanted to call it quits right there. Luckily for him, Sharp was all Nuh-Uh on the 'Seymour gets the honor of being the one to eliminate the King of Submission'.

And a loud SMACK followed, compliments of a shuffle sidekick by the 'Highlight of the Night II'.

Majistral Cradle!

ONE!

TWO!

THR--MAX KICKS OUT!

Sharp rose to his feet and pulled Max into position. He walked to the corner.

JUMP(twisting in mid-air to land facing the crowd on the top rope). MOONSAULT. CROWD POP!

Cover!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

NO! THANK YOU, BRUCE SHANAHAN!

The Baron of Pain tossed Sharp aside off of Danger and motioned for a half-conscious Marcus Dox to get to his feet. Max, of course, was in no shape to comply, so VJ 'willed' him to his feet. And by 'willed', I mean he grabbed him by his throat and pulled him off the mat... and then tossed him out of the ring.

Wait, what?

'Ah, you're the one I want,' VJ said, eyes fixed on Seymour.

VJ helped Seymour to a standing position, and since Almasy happened to be totally unresponsive at that point, began setting him up for the Shattered Halo. That basically meant he scooped him up like he was going for a body slam and held him there for a second. That *second* was all Sharp needed to run past him and springboard off the middle rope, turning as he was shot backwards and hitting a text book drop kick to back of Almasy. VJ dropped onto his back with the TV champ ontop of him, and soon there after, Sharp as well.

With two men laying over his chest, and the shock of being knocked down when he was certain he had the advantage, all the makings of a classic upset were there.

The crowd counted along...

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

"THREE!"

ELIMINATED - VIOLENCE JACK

No. Fucking. Way.

Shock. The crowd cheered the loudest they'd cheered all night. Violence Jack had been eliminated by Almasy, with an assist by Sharp.

And you better fucking believe that 'The Pariah Saint' was pissed.

On this day, however, Violence Jack had been defeated, and then there were three.

The reigning champion, a 5’7” man who had taken as much abuse as anyone in the company over the past few weeks.

And the two challengers, one a technically sound (to put it mildly) veteran, the other a flashy young newcomer with his first belt in sight.

Danger and Sharp commenced hostilities once more, as Seymour reclined in the corner, trying to pull himself back to very exhausted feet. Max popped Andy with a pair of hard elbows, but forearms allowed Sharp to return fire.

Still, the contest had gone on long enough that the high-flying, high energy Sharp was starting to tire. Max, on the other hand, was just getting starting.

Another elbow stunned Andy, and allowed the Danger Man to take flight.

Jumping Roundhouse!

The right boot to the face sent Andy to the canvas, allowing Max to throw himself across the downed 6’6” man’s body.

It seemed that Danger would soon have his wish of a one on one with the TV Champ.

ONE!

TWO!

THR--NO!

See, ‘seeming’ is a funny thing sometimes, really. Andy Sharp managed to roll his shoulder off the canvas, saving himself from elimination.

Max said “gorram”. A LOT, I might add.

But as he was doing this, Seymour CHARGED from the corner, firing off a jumping knee into the middle of Max’s back that sent him careening into the corner!

Danger toddled back as Seymour reached between his legs (No, not THAT way, Jessica would get quite mad I’m sure…) and cradled the challenger with a schoolboy!

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

Much to Seymour’s chagrin, the Danger Man squirmed free of his predicament, and was on the champion like white on rice almost immediately, firing off varying kicks to the downed Final Fantasy.

With a predatory smile on his face, Danger lifted his prey up for a suplex. But not just any suplex, oh no. It was the Exploder Suplex.

But not just any Exploder Suplex, oh n--wait, that’s way too similar to what I just said.

Fuck it.

WRIST-CLUTCH EXPLODER!

And THAT dropped Seymour Almasy on his head. Feel sad for him.

Because Max Danger certainly wasn’t. In fact, he was covering Seymour.

Three seconds separated the Danger Man from his first ACW championship.

ONE!

TWO!

THR--BROKEN UP BY THE CAVALIER!

Sadly, Andy Sharp stopped him at just BEFORE three seconds with a double sledge blow to the shoulder blades. Especially sadly considering the fact that Max Danger was now ULTRA UBER PISSED OFF.

We’re talking Seth when Heidenreich’s on SmackDown! here, people.

So, he did what any self-respecting Max Danger would do.

He got up, took a step towards Sharp, and CLOBBERED him with a MOTHER-FUCKING SHOTEI TO THE FACE!

Andy went down faster than Lowell Dot Com at a narcissist convention, and Danger wasted no time making a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THR--KICKOUT?!

Yes, the shotei had been kicked out of. Really, that fact wasn’t improving Max Danger’s mood one little bit.

So he simply got up, and reared back with his big ass padded elbow, ready to decapitate the Highlight of the Night II when he got up.

Andy got up, but the big ass elbow sailed over his head as he ducked.

Danger had made a slight miscalculation, and the rookie was going to make the veteran pay for it.

THE SHARPER IMAGE!

The STIFFEST FUCKING ENZUGIRI ever caught Max Danger in the back of the head. Hell, it might be the stiffest thing ever, even stiffer than Scott after a round of the EWNWeb Ho Draft.

But images of women with bouncing breasts weren’t in Andy Sharp’s mind, although rest assured if he won this match he’d have all the pussy he could handle. That was at least PART of the reason that he began to ascend the ropes, getting ready for the quite-necessary in this situation Unnecessary Risk.

Before he could leap, however, something odd happened.

Seymour Almasy, seeing the downed Max Danger, bounced off the ropes to execute a move on him. As he rebounded however, the impact of Seymour hitting the ropes jolted Andy Sharp from his perch, causing him to land crotch-first on the top turnbuckle, and flip down to the canvas in obvious agony.

The champion was oblivious to this, however, as he flipped through the air, landing on Max Danger with a somersaulting senton. Reaching to the side, he pulled one of Danger’s legs up to complete the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

Almasy acted quickly, picking Danger up, and shooting him into the ropes. With as much strength as he could muster, he ran towards the Danger Man, and caught him with a HARD dropkick to the face that sent Max flying over the top rope to the floor. Pumping his fist in the air once, Almasy fell back to the mat on his rear end, trying to get some air back into his system.

That was about when he saw Andy Sharp on his hands and knees, clutching at his groin in pain.

He then looked down at Danger on the floor. If Seymour wanted, he could dive out and splatter Max on the concrete and do further damage.

But then he looked at his friend, but at the same time, at a man who wanted his title.

And he realized the truism that most men realize, at one point or another.

Friendships are well and good, but in the ring, sometimes, they must be put on hold.

Seymour stood, and charged the doubled over Andy Sharp. Neatly, he dive-rolled over the Canadian, hooking both head and leg, and twisting the challenger into a picture-perfect Oklahoma Roll.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

ELIMINATED - ANDY SHARP

Andy Sharp broke free of the pinning predicament a few seconds too late. Sputtering, he pushed himself up to his hands and knees. It was there that he saw the man who had put his shoulders to the mat.

Seymour.

The crowd looked at the scene in near-silence, as neither man blinked.

Finally, a clearly upset Andy Sharp rose to his feet, and vacated the ring. He paused on the apron for a moment to let what had happened settle in. Really, he couldn’t blame Seymour. It was his championships on the line tonight, after all.

No, Andy decided, he wasn’t upset because it was Seymour.

He was upset because he’d taken his eye off the ball.

The walk up the long aisle wasn’t helping him feel any better. At least, he reminded himself, there was End Game yet to come.

As he disappeared behind the curtain, however, there were two more men who had a match to finish.

The Television Title remained to be decided.

And it was down to the two men who went a full hour, not being able to decide a winner.

As the Final Fantasy stood standing, watching his friend leave, he didn't realize Max Danger had found his way back into the ring. The words of warning fell on deaf ears, so when Almasy turned around, the Danger Man rose from his crouch, spinning, and...

...BAM!

DANGEROUS III!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE-- NO!

On pure instinct, Seymour Almasy was able to shoot his left shoulder off the mat just mere moments before the referee brought his hand down for the count of three. The Television Champion managed to get to his feet, as well, but the strike had dazed him.

So, the loopy Almasy stumbled back into the corner and slumped over, his arms draped over the top ropes on either side of him. Not one to dilly-dally, the King of Submission charged forward. Like a heat seaking missile, Danger flew through the air, his feet smashing into Seymour's face via dropkick.

Down to his ass fell the Final Fantasy. His head was swimming, and the fact that Max began to scrap his boot across his face did not help matters. Six times he did that before running to the ropes to the left of Almasy. After bouncing off the cables, the Danger Man rushed towards Seymour.

OOOOOOOOH!

Max Danger just gave Seymour Almasy the face wash, Samoa Joe-style. Almasy's upper body had fallen onto the bottom rope and he just lay there, out of it.

It's too bad that Danger wasn't quite finished. Instead of going for a cover, Max lifted Seymour to his feet. He whipped the TV Title holder across the ring and into the corners. Almasy ran chest-first into the turnbuckles and bounced out like they were simple set of ropes.

Because of this, he did not see the King of Submission run up behind him. But he did feel the hellacious lunging elbow smash that caught him in the back of the skull. Almasy was knocked forward by the blow, bounced off the turnbuckles yet again, and stumbled right back into the Danger Man's grasp.

GERMAN SUPLEX!

Instead of bridging, the Danger Man simply rolled backwards, getting back to his feet with Almasy in tow. He shifted from the waistlock to a double chicken wing. But a submission wasn't his goal. Nope, there was something else he had in mind.

TIGER SUPLEX!

Again, Max opted not to bridge and instead rolled back and got up to a vertical base, still clinging to Seymour. Just like before, Danger changed how he held the Television Champion. He went into a full-nelson, and everyone knew what was coming, and what would be completed if he were to hit it.

Seymour Almasy was too dazed to stop it.

DRAGON SUPLEX!

And so the TRIFECTA was complete, and this time Max Danger did bridge.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE-- NOT QUITE YET!

Amazingly, Almasy had rolled off his shoulders just at the last possible second. His reign as TV Champ safe for at least a few more minutes.

OK, maybe just a few more seconds.

When Seymour managed to get to his feet, he was clearly in the intersection of Dream Street, and coming at him with the green light from Knock Your Head Off Boulevard, was the Danger Man.

SHOTEI!

The running left-handed palm strike struck Seymour with such velocity, he did a complete flip in the air, landing on his face and stomach. After rolling Seymour over, Danger covered him with a hook of the leg.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

ELIMINATED - SEYMO--

Er, that's not right, because Seymour MOTHERFUCKING Almasy had kicked out! Max Danger was holding up three fingers to the referee, who shook his head, brought up two fingers, and indicated that Almasy had gotten his shoulder up.

"Bullshit," called the Danger Man.

His wife, too, was livid on the outside. What was it going to take to put away the Final Fantasy?

Max wasn't going to sit around, piss and moan about it. That wasn't his style. No, instead he let the exhausted and discombobulated Champion get to his feet on his own; took more out of him that way. And when he was up, went on the attack.

He sent alternating kicks to various parts of Seymour's body.

KICK!
KICK!
KICK!
KICK!
KICK!

Time for the finishing touch... Jumping Spin Kick!

WHIFF!

Max's boot sailed right over the ducking Seymour's head, who quickly returned fire...

JECHT SHOT!

But Danger ducked that, too, and quickly attacked with the rolling koppou kick!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE-- FUCK THAT SHIT!

Once again, to the astonishment of everyone, Seymour Almasy had kicked out. Danger sat on his knees, hands on his hips as he glowered at the referee. It was the first time while in ACW that Max had begun to even look remotely frustrated.

It quickly vanished, but the fact that it was there even fleetingly, was not good. Emotions betrayed you, afterall.

Max pulled Seymour to his feet once again, then backed into the ropes. He gained a head of steam, and rushed at the Television Champion. The left-handed lariat, however, was ducked, and Almasy hooked Danger's arm before taking him down with a backslide!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-- KICKOUT!

Max shot up off the mat, but Seymour gave him a drop toe hold and went right into the La Majistral Cradle!

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-- NO!

Danger, once more, jumped to his feet. He grabbed the Final Fantasy by the hand and whipped him into the ropes. Instead of taking a knee to the stomach, though, Seymour dove over the leg, and took Max over with a school-boy roll-up.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE-- NOT YET!

The two men stood up and Max fired off a roundhouse kick that sailed right over Seymour's head. Almasy struck fast and hard, chopping the Danger Man across the chest.

CHOP!
CHOP!
CHOP!
CHOP!
CHOP!

The King of Submission was sent into the corner and immediately Seymour charged in. He was backdropped over the top rope, however, but managed to land on his feet (didn't everyone?). Max just knew he had and threw a back elbow.

Only Almasy was not there. No, he had ducked down and drove his shoulder into the small of Danger's back! Max staggered away, holding his back, as Seymour launched himself onto the top rope and springboarded back into action.

The wheel-kick, however, missed, as the Danger Man ducked out of the way. Just when it looked like the Final Fantasy was going to get on a roll, Max Danger countered.

He grabbed Seymour off the mat and hooked him for his next manuever. One that would surely end the night for Seymour Almasy. Or so Max hoped.

DANGERBUSTER!

The cross-arms brainbuster downed Seymour Almasy and this time, Max Danger just KNEW it was over. He was going to have gold around his waist again for the first time in two years. Oh, and it was going to be so awesome.

But first, the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

...

"Well, SHIT!" said the Danger Man. Why? Well, why do you fucking think?

Relief was the feeling in the air, as Almasy just barely shot his shoulder off the mat. Danger, though, wasn't going to give him another second, not even the slightest of openings to get his bearings. No, he quickly yanked Almasy off the mat.

Kick to the right leg. Kick to the left. Kick to the ribs, followed by a second. Danger capped the flurry off with a jumping spin kick that caught Seymour under the chin, which knocked him through the ropes. He sat there, only half his body on the apron, his right hand holding onto the top rope, the only thing keeping him from falling to the floor.

But a swift dropkick to the ribs sent him flying off, splatting on the mats below. Max immediately rolled out and grabbed Seymour by the hair. One, two, three elbow strikes rattled the Television Champion's brain, before he was rolled back into the ring.

Almasy was crawling towards the center of the ring when Danger pulled himself onto the apron. Quickly he jumped to the top rope and springboarded in. He drove both feet down onto the back of Seymour's head, sandwiching his face against the mat!

After rolling Seymour onto his back, Max covered with a hook of the leg.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE-- NOT QUITE YET!

Jessica was screaming at the referee for his count, but less concerned was the King of Submission. He got to his feet and began to stalk the Final Fantasy. Waiting for the right moment to swoop back in. Seymour was just trying to get his head back in the game. Trying to figure out where the hell he was and what exactly he was doing.

Very slowly, he got up onto his feet. But once he did...

CROSSFACE CHICKEN WING!

It was the very move that had ended Almasy's night at Courage 75 in the ten-man elimination tag match. Seymour was trying to fight it, but there was no escape. Max had the submission cinched in tightly.

Almasy desperately wanted to reach the ropes, but before he could, the Danger Man had wrapped his legs around Seymour's torso, and forced him to the mat. The referee immediately began asking the Champ if he wanted to give it up.

His response?

"NO!"

SEY-MOUR!
SEY-MOUR!
SEY-MOUR!
SEY-MOUR!
SEY-MOUR!

Seymour knew he couldn't quit. He just couldn't tap out. He'd already lost the Scorpion Fighting Championship to Lowell Dot Com, he wasn't about to give up the TV Title to Max Danger. That was just inconceivable. So, he searched deep within himself, and slowly began to power Danger's legs apart.

That was step one. He needed to free his body or else he'd never stand a chance. It took some doing, too, as the Danger Man had powerful legs. But Seymour's heart was stronger, and he pried them apart. But that was the easy part.

The hard part was yet to come.

Desperately, Almasy tried to roll over to get Max on his back. From there he could try standing and possibly drive Max back into the turnbuckles. But that was much easier said than done.

"TAP!" shouted the King of Submission at his advisary. "TAP, GORRAM IT!"

But Seymour would not. He simply couldn't. "NEVER!" he shouted before rocking from side to side, trying to roll himself and the Danger Man over.

After several trips back and forth, Seymour was successful in getting to his stomach, his knees lucky underneath him. Of course, he still had a 223 pound man on his back trying to kill him.

Almasy took a second to gather himself before letting out a furious yell, pushing upwards as he did so. He managed to stand, with Danger holding the submission strong, and quickly ran backwards. Max's back slammed into the turnbuckles, but he still did not release.

Seymour did it a second time, and again he was not free.

The Final Fantasy staggered out to the middle of the ring, and slumped over. Max was draining the life out of him. There was only so much that Almasy had left.

LET'S GO SEY-MOUR!
LET'S GO SEY-MOUR!
LET'S GO SEY-MOUR!

With the power of the people's support coursing through his veins, Seymour Almasy attempted one last thing to free himself. He ran towards the corners and stepped up them. He pushed off the top turnbuckle, knocking Danger onto his back. He still held the hold did the Danger Man, but his shoulders were also being pinned down.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-- Danger broke the hold and kicked out.

He'd been beaten by Andy Sharp similarly, only it was with the crippler crossface then. He was smart enough to prevent that on this occassion.

Almasy lay on his stomach, breathing heavily, as the King of Submission got back onto his feet. Not wanting to waste time, Danger helped Seymour get back to his feet. He quickly placed Seymour's head between his legs. Oh, yes, he was going for the move that possible would have beaten the Television Champion two shows ago, had it not been for time running out.

WILD BOMB!

Almasy was driven into the mat with extreme velocity. Had Danger hold held onto him, he'd had bounced off the mat like a basketball. But Max did hold him, stacking him for the pin.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

And just like that, Max Danger was the new Television Cham... wait a minute! He didn't! He couldn't! No fucking way! Seymour Almasy KICKED OUT!

"NO! NO! NO!" screamed Jessica from the floor, looking nearly ready to pull her hair out. Max, also, was unable to grasp just what had transpired.

"You're telling me that HE kicked out?" he asked the referee.

The man in stripes nodded.

"You're kidding, right?"

The official shook his head.

"C'mon, this is a joke. There's no way he could have kicked out -- could he?"

Max was informed he had.

"Bullshit," Danger said, shaking his head. "Bullshit. Bullshit. BULLSHIT!"

Yeah, Max Danger was now ticked off. He yanked Seymour back to his feet by his hair, and again placed the Champ's head between his legs. A second Wild Bomb? Of fucking course!

COUNTERED!

Almasy went over Danger's head and down his back with a sunset flip roll-up!

But Max rolled through, and quickly ran back into the ropes, and when he returned to the sitting Almasy...

SHINING WIZARD!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

...

No, that was it. Max had won.

NOT!

Incredibly, Seymour Almasy had brought his shoulder off the mat. The boy just would not give up. Annoying little bitch, huh? Danger walked over to the turnbuckles. What he wanted, no one was sure. But he ascended them nonetheless.

But Seymour, he wasn't going to let him do anything. He quickly lunged at the ropes, crotching the King of Submission on the top turnbuckle. When he advanced on Danger, though, Max slugged him across the face with an elbow smash.

Seymour responded in kind.

The two men were firing away at each other in the corner with elbow strikes, Max from his perch on the turnbuckles, and Seymour from his standing position on the mat. Danger seemed to be winning the slugfest until Almasy shifted gears, over-hand chopping Max across the chest.

And then to just completely throw him off, Seymour landed the JECHT SHOT, almost knocking Danger off the turnbuckles and to the floor below. Luckly his legs were wrapped around the ropes so as to prevent that. But he was still wide open for the Final Fantasy to take control.

And he did, he lifted Danger off the turnbuckles and held him in position. Three steps later and he'd driven Max to the mat.

GAGAZET DRIVER!

The crowd was going crazy, but the Television Champion did not cover. He just had this feeling, somewhere deep within himself, that it was going to take a little extra to finish off the Danger Man. Afterall, he was unable to defeat Max in their first encounter, and in that 10-Man Tag? Yeah, that ended with Max submitting Seymour with the Crossface Chicken Wing, which Almasy managed to survive on this night.

So, he knew. He knew he had to go that extra length to put the match to rest. After climbing out onto the apron, Seymour took a deep breath. What happened next was a thing of beauty, flashbulbs went off all around the building to capture the moment.

ULTIMA!

Seymour Almasy landed with all his weight onto the Danger Man with his springboard shooting star press. The Champion stayed on Max's body and hooked a leg. The referee quickly dove into position, the fans chanting along with his count.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

"THREE! OOOOOOOOOH!"

Boos filled the building because Max Danger had KICKED OUT! Seymour stared at the referee in disbelief, holding three fingers in the air, holding beyond hope that what had just happened was all an illusion.

The referee informed Almasy that it wasn't. Max had kicked out, and the match was continuing.

But that kick out? Pure instinct. Danger just threw his shoulder up off the mat. Whether it saved him or not, he didn't know. He just did it. Luckily for him, it did buy him some time. But he was still down. He was still out, and Seymour Almasy was looking to finish things.

Back out onto the apron went the Final Fantasy. He took one last deep breath...

ULTIMA IX!

It was do or die. Either he hit the springboard 450 or he didn't. Either way, it was probably going to end the match.

And...

HE HIT IT!

With the crowd going crazy, Seymour hooked both legs of the Danger Man.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

ELIMINATED - MAX DANGER

Winner > Lowell Dot Com pins Almasy, wins Scorpion Fighting Championship; 
Seymour Almasy pins Max Danger, retains Television Championship

It was over.

As J.R. would say, “BAH GAWD, IT’S FINALLY OVER!”

Seymour Almasy had lost one of the titles he had walked into End Game with, but had somehow managed to FINALLY defeat Max Danger to retain the Television Title. Danger took a walk to the back. Sure, he was stone-faced as ever, but inside he was PISSED. While Jessica consoled him and explained that the End Game match was still to come, Seymour Almasy had raised his beloved Television Title in the center of the ring.

It was a momentous time for The Final Fantasy and as long as he retained his precious Television Title, that was all that mattered…

BLACK OUT.

To the surprise of the New York crowd, the lights had gone pitch-black. Seymour was clueless as to what this could mean. What could it be? Power outage? Monkeys? Lightning Storm? Devin chewing on one of the cords backstage?

HOUND

COMING TO ACW.

END GAME.

“No.”

A simple word Seymour uttered. This strange message that interrupted Courage 75’s broadcast appeared again. To make matters worse, a target had possibly been selected.

As The Final Fantasy tried to ready himself whatever way possible, a solitary green spotlight had shined in the ring behind him. It gave way to the presence of a woman that he was all too familiar with. This was the enigmatic Hemlocke. A woman that swore fealty only to Violence Jack.

“Seymour Almasy…” she began as he stared intently at the figure before him. The jeering crowd couldn’t even drown out her voice.

“…You are a brave warrior,” she said, mic in her hand. “But I’m afraid even gallant heroes have no place in our grand scheme.”

As Seymour glared at the spotlight of Hemlocke, he failed to notice the second spotlight behind him. The fans began to boo more for the disciples of Father Shanahan, but when Seymour jerked around, he was TURNED INSIDE OUT WITH A VICIOUS LARIAT!

The lights returned to normal and a mountain of a man had stood over the fallen body of the Television Champion, the thunderous jeering filling the arena quickly. Hemlocke began to direct traffic as the man, clad in leather pants, boots, various scars and tattooed words adorning his body and a black nylon mask that covered all but his right eye jerked Almasy upwards. He was spent. There was little defense he could have against this beast.

“Seymour…meet my pet. As for his name; Hound will do.”

Indeed, Hound glanced over at Hemlocke, awaiting further instructions. She simply raised a thumb into the sky before letting it fall downward. Seymour was at their mercy.

The cold gray eye of Hound could be seen staring at Seymour intensely as he whipped his near-lifeless body into the ropes as he bounced back, the 6’4”, 340-pound servant of Violence Jack SPIKED Seymour in the center of the ring with a jaw-dropping Swinging Sidewalk Slam.

The New Yorkers were now on their feet, jeering as this massive beast of a man palmed Almasy’s face and amazingly pulled the 185-pound man back to his feet with one arm.

“Crush him now!” Hemlocke barked at her charge as he thrust Almasy into the corner. He marched from one side of the ring adjacent to Seymour’s positioning before speeding forward and RAMMING all 337 pounds of muscle directly into the body of The Television Champion. Sure, Violence Jack didn’t walk away with either one of the titles, but a smile would adorn his otherwise bitter face as Seymour staggered lifelessly into another Face Claw from this mysterious individual.

Violence Jack’s Dog of War pulled Seymour close to him and said something that could only be heard by the ears of the two men present in the ring.

“In time, I hope you’ll learn to forgive me.”

After the odd words, Hound pulled The Final Fantasy into the air with one arm and spiked him down viciously with a Face Claw-Spinebuster-like maneuver that was met with a resounding “OOOOOOOOOOOH!” from the fans in the arena. The announcers quickly went to a replay of the impact for the PPV viewers and covered the absolutely breath-taking sight from several different angles before Hound paced over his prey’s body.

A million emotions went swarming through the head of Hound at that very moment. He never met Seymour until now. All that Violence Jack had told him was that this man was to be a perpetual thorn in his side. That he wanted to rob Hound of any chance of superstardom that he could have. Seymour was bad. That’s all Violence Jack had told him about Seymour. But then…why would these people BOO him for destroying the enemy.

They didn’t understand. Nobody did. They were jealous that they weren’t given the opportunity that Hound has been given by being chosen to become a part of Violence Jack’s Sect. That’s all it boiled down to. They hated Hound because The Old Ones didn’t bless them.

The doubt gone from his mind, Hound continued the punishment by grabbing Almasy by his waist and discarding him from the ring like a simple scrap of trash. He had zero defense against this man, not after his grueling match.

Hound climbed out of the ring and grabbed onto the body of Seymour before THROWING him like a javelin directly into the steel steps. The resounding THUD nearly drowned out everything around Seymour as he faded into the realm of unconsciousness, a crimson mask now adorning his face.

Hemlocke surveyed the damage as a low hush erupted throughout the arena. Even though their master fell short of claiming the TV Title for himself, Seymour Almasy was looking a LOT more like a loser than a winner of this grueling five-man elimination match. She turned to her ward and smiled.

“I think he’s had enough,” she told Hound before the fans suddenly erupted into a sea of cheers. Now, Hemlocke was not stupid by any stretch of the imagination. People jeered their ideals because they didn’t understand them. But when they cheered, trouble was afoot.

And it was 6’6”, 242 pounds of trouble wielding a steel chair while zooming down the aisle.

Hound shoved Hemlocke behind him, ready to fight, but she tapped him on the shoulder before he nodded. He headed directly over to Seymour Almasy and hovered over his friend while wielding the chair like a maniac, ready to knock Hound the fuck out with it.

“COME ON!” The Lord of the Skies shouted to Hound, who was ready to fight as well, but Hemlocke restrained him and talked sense into the muscle-bound bodyguard of Violence Jack.

Andy decided to fuck this shit and swung hard, SMASHING the chair directly into the skull of Hound, sending him flying directly into the crowd. The green-haired vixen, fearing the worst, climbed over the guardrail as the two retreated through the crowd.

Once more, Andy let out a roar and a swarm of fans reciprocated as he swung the chair once again, BARELY missing Hemlocke and hitting the guardrail as they disappeared into the crowd. Their message had been sent.

And while the EMTs and Andy attended to the bloody Seymour Almasy, the visage of Hound had Andy perturbed. Not because the mammoth was physically strong enough to take a full-on blast of a steel chair and remain mostly on his feet.

But why did a look into the sole eye of that man seem so familiar? 

In the backstage area, Kristen Jacobs caught up to Max Danger, who'd just failed to capture either of the two belts Seymour Almasy took into the five-man elimination match. He did last until the end, but just came up short against the Final Fantasy.

"Max!" called out the backstage correspondent. But the Danger Man completely ignored the woman, walking on past her. You could tell by the expression on his face that he did not want to talk.

Someone who did have a few words to say, however, was the wife of Max. Jessica stopped in front of Kristen, hands firmly placed on her hips, and shook her head with that indignant look on her face.

"What were you going to ask him? How it felt to come up short in that last match? What's it like to survive longer than three other men in the match, and yet still walk away empty-handed? Huh? Were those the type of hard-hitting questions you were going to inquire about?"

"No, I--"

But Jessica wouldn't let Kristen finish that thought.

"Surely even you could see that he wasn't in the talking mood. It was pretty evident, right? And I know what you're thinking. He's pissed off about losing. He can't fathom how someone like himself fell to Seymour Almasy."

Jessica shook her head, "Well, you'd be dead wrong, Krsiten."

"No, see, my husband, the King of Submission, he's not ashamed of losing. He's not ticked off about coming away empty-handed. Sure, it sucks, and we both wish he had triumphed. But you know what? This was the first step. He got a title shot and he lost. There will be more."

The wife of Max Danger began to smile wickedly. "I believe there's even one more coming up tonight, isn't there?"

Nodding, Jacobs answered, "Yes, there is. End Game."

"End Game. Yes. And what's the victor get if they win that?"

"A shot at the ACW Championship."

The smile grew wider and even more wicked. "Kristen, you want that interview with Max?"

The interviewer nodded.

"Well, after the End Game match, you just wiggle your scrawning ass down to the ring because that's where you will find my husband, with me at his side, raising his arm in victory, the next number one contender."

Jessica departed, supremely confident in her husband to get the job done later tonight and earn himself a chance at the ACW Championship. 

ACW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
DOUBLE SPECIAL REFEREE: ALIAS AND LLB
'Superstar' Vince Jacobs versus Khristain Keller

The match that will change a lot of people’s future. Two men on a mission to gain the coveted ACW World Heavyweight Championship, which only five men have ever held in ACW’s entire history.

Keller – The man that claims that the ACW is trying to hold him down. Trying to keep the gold away from him. His goal is to shut everyone up and prove that he is championship material by claiming his first ever ACW World Heavyweight Championship.

Jacobs – The man that claims he is Pro Wrestling’s Phenomenon. A former ACW World Heavyweight Champion that claims that he was never beaten for the title. Which has some validity to it since SilverHAWK stripped Vince of the title? Jacobs wants to etch his name in the record books by becoming the fourth man in ACW to be a two-time World Champion.

Alias – One of the two referees in this match that has a vested interest in seeing Keller get his after he took his daughter and Vince’s daughter also. Alias would most likely get a shot at the winner to try and recapture the ACW World Title he lost to Vince Jacobs.

"OBJECTION!"

He just blew the roof off this place again.

The fans where waiting for a moment, for that one man responsible for such an ‘objection’ to part the curtains, and of course he did.

LLB was ready for moment to shine in ACW, to regale his glory

''Getting Away with Murder'' Papa Roach blasted throughout the arena as LLB headed down toward the ring donned in his referee outfit. ‘The Law’ was ready to get back in this thing we call wrestling and what better way to do this by being one of the hired referees to keep the peace between Khristain Keller and Vince Jacobs as these two men battled for the ACW World Title.

LLB made his way to the ring as the crowd continued to cheer the former Action! Wrestling World Champion.

The lights suddenly faded out as a chill went throughout the arena. Darkness. This is all that was left of the soul of Alias. The man had been through hell and back and he had to ref a match between Jacobs and Keller. A blackness in which not a single light existed anymore.

Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man's soul and faith

“Sympathy for the Devil” by the Rolling Stones began to kick in. The Tin Angel strolled down to the ring wearing a sleeveless ref shirt, with of course those infamous red pants, not taking an eye off either Keller or Jacobs. His taped fists where still tattered from the opening match with a surprising End Game entrant in Justin Williamson, and a hell of a match it was, sending Alias into the number 30 spot of the match.

Even though that meant A LOT, it was still at the back of his head. He couldn’t think about it. Just the sight of LLB cemented that fact in his mind.

I was 'round when Jesus Christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that Pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate

The lyrics continued to cry out over the PA, as Alias climbed into the ring ready to “officiate” this World Title match.

No, seriously.

The crowd didn’t know what to think of Alias. Not at all. They where more negative then anything, at the moment, but hell… that might have even been because they knew who was up next.

CUE UP: Metallica’s ‘Dirty Window’

Enter Khristain Keller.

It took a second for K2 to toss the curtain aside and step out onto the ramp… and it hardly took one second more for the crowd to tell him just how much of a bastard he was.

And, of course, he knew that fact all to damn well… with a smile.

K2’s bad mood was well illustrated as he made his way down the ramp, proceeding to smack a fan in the face for what appeared to be a sign with a condescending remark towards Khristain.

He finally rolled into the ring, and as he stood, Keller winked towards Alias. He knew he was in control.

Every muscle in Alias’s body tightened, ready to spring forward, and unload.

"I didn't have to come to the ACW to be a Superstar..."

Vince walked through the curtains, instantly hearing a series of boos blending with his music as a smirk came across his face.

"...I brought my spotlight with me."

The acwtron flickered, showing a series of clips that highlighted various clips of SVJ in action.

The crowd jeers grew as Vince Jacobs step through the curtain and revels in it. He extends both his arms, pissing the audience off even more, as he saunters down the ramp flipping off the fans at ringside. Jacobs rolled into the ring and threw his arms in the air. The ACW faithful wasn’t even about to give this man any leeway, any cheers or support, even with his daughter in the balance. That’s how much they hated The Superstar. The bell rang as this Heavyweight Title match was about to begin.

Jacobs pounced on Keller in an instant as all the hatred and frustration came out from Jacobs. You knew this match was going to be very heated with Keller stealing Vince’s and Alias’ baby girls. The two men rolled around the mat throwing punches at each other as Alias did not look like he was going to stop the melee. He actually wanted Keller to pay and if SVJ was the one to make him pay then sobeit. LLB was yelling at Alias to break the men up and keep order in the ring, but Alias didn’t care and SVJ knew it as he was one up on Keller now.

Vince looked Keller dead in his eyes. “You are going to pay for what you did to me and Chris, motherfucker.”

Jacobs continued to pound on Keller with brutal right hands as LLB was still trying to ref this match by the books but he had to deal with Keller, Jacobs and the other referee – Alias. Jacobs jumped to his feet as Alias looked to check on Keller but you know he was just making sure that K2 was hurt a little more. Jacobs grabbed Keller and whipped him into the corner. He slowly stalked Keller in the corner. The fans never saw this emotion come from Jacobs before. He was a man on a mission and he was going to make K2 pay for his sins.

K2 threw a punch to Jacobs but it didn’t really faze SVJ since all he saw was red. Vince quickly came back with a low blow kick to Keller who dropped to his knees. Alias did nothing but looked at Jacobs and a small smirk came across his face. But he didn’t reprimand Jacobs for that illegal move. He just let it go and LLB was not happy on the outside as he rolled into the ring to confront Alias on his one sided judgments.

“Call the match down the line Chris. I’m warning you.”

Alias gave LLB a stoic look as to say “Warn me? When did the lawyer grow a conscious? Fuck off.” While the two refs were engaging in conversation Jacobs nailed Keller with another low blow in the corner. Vince was going to make sure that K2 was not going to have anything to do with kids period. Jacobs stood Keller up in the corner as he looked out into the crowd who was actually giving him some cheers. I guess they hated what Keller did more than what Jacobs has done for years. Congratulations K2, you now have become the most hated heel in the company.

Vince looked into the crowd before rearing back and nailing Keller’s chest with a nasty chop. And the crowd in their normal unison cheers, whenever a chop is done to some to reciprocate with one word.

chop
WHOOO!!
chop
WHOOO!!
chop
WHOOO!!
chop
WHOOO!!
chop
WHOOO!!

By this time Keller’s chest was a beet red and Jacobs, Alias, and the fans love it. Vince pulled Keller to the middle of the ring and slammed him hard to the mat.

K2 was quickly dropped to the mat with a dropkick by SVJ after he got to his feet. Jacobs wanted to get this match over with quick. He picked up Keller and whipped him into the ropes. Keller bounced off the ropes only to receive a back elbow from the Superstar. Vince grabbed Keller and threw him into the corner. He started to nail K2 with vicious rights to the midsection, as the fans cheered him for his onslaught of Keller, as Alias continued to give leeway to Vince Jacobs.

Jacobs tried to whip Keller into the far corner but K2 reversed it into a short arm clothesline that took Jacobs down to the mat with a thud. Keller shook off the earlier attack from SVJ and focused on his attack now. He picked Jacobs up and slammed him back down to the mat with force. Jacobs grabbed his lower back in pain as he tried to roll to the floor but Keller was there to cut him off.

He grabbed Vince and whipped him into the ropes. But Jacobs being the veteran that he was held onto the ropes and rolled out of the ring to catch a breath. This made LLB get on Vince for his actions. But ‘The Reason there is a Show’ just flipped off LLB at ringside as he continued to catch his breath.

“Get your ass back into the ring Vince.” LLB shouted.

“If you weren’t bitching at me, I’d probably be able to, now wouldn’t I? Take a hint from the other ref, asshole, and zip your lip.” Vince replied back.

Alias tried to keep K2 in the ring as Vince was catching his breath. Keller couldn’t wait as he rolled to the floor after Vince. Jacobs saw Keller coming as he dropped down and caught the running Keller with a drop toehold that sent K2 crashing into the guardrail. Jacobs started to look under the ring for some sort of weapon but LLB was there to admonish Jacobs for what he was about to do. Jacobs found a lead pipe from under the ring, which was quickly taken from him by LLB. Alias rolled to the floor to confront LLB for taking the pipe away from Vince.

Odd isn’t it? Feels like the team of Jacobs and the Tin Angel all over again.

While LLB and Alias were arguing, Jacobs took the video cables and placed it under Keller’s neck, choking him. Jacobs let the cable fall to the floor before LLB and Alias realized what was going on. Vince picked up Keller and dropped him over the guardrail throat first trying to injure him.

Vince was trying to cripple Keller for putting him through hell the past month. Vince picked up Keller and drove him to the ground with a Falling Star. LLB yelled at Vince to get Keller back in the ring. Vince smiled as he picked up Keller, who was out on his feet at that moment, and rolled him into the ring.

SVJ posed for the crowd, as they jeered the fighting father back for doing such a thing, instead of actually continuing the assault on Keller for his daughter. He strutted around the ring knowing he could pin Keller at anytime he felt like it and recapture the ACW World Title. This is why the crowd hated him… and Alias, Alias fury mounted inwardly. He just wanted to see the end of this damn match. Whatever he had to do, he just didn’t want to see to much cock jockery that might mess things up. Jacobs knelt down and went for a cover on K2.

ONE…

TWO…

THRE---- NO!! KICKOUT BY KELLER!!

The fans couldn’t believe it as K2 still had some fight in him. Jacobs grabbed Keller and dropped him quickly to the mat with a brainbuster he calls The Starburst. Keller was still in this match and the Ratings Grabber knew he had to do a little more to take him down and out. This was a huge match for Keller as he could walk away with his first World Title with a win over Vince Jacobs. But for Jacobs it was an end K2, get his daughter back and regaining the World Title. Jacobs had this anger built up in him for a month and he had been waiting for this day to release it all on Keller.

Yeah, he had finally realized the severity of the situation.

Jacobs looked down at Keller before pointing to the top ropes. He leapt to the top and posed for the fans a little in his normal SVJ arrogance. Okay maybe not all the severity. Vince dove from the top rope with a Shining Star that missed its mark. Keller had moved out of the way and Vince had hit the mat hard. Keller pulled himself up with the help of the ropes because he knew this was his only shot to do something in this match. Keller raced over toward Vince who was staggering to his feet and clotheslined him down to the mat. Vince hopped back to his feet and Keller clotheslined him down again. Vince bounced up one more time as Keller was now feeling it.

Keller was on fire as he nailed Vince with a right hook that sent the Superstar flying into the corner. Alias stepped in to try to admonish Keller for his antics but Keller just pushed past Alias to get back to Jacobs as he nailed SVJ with those big soup bones he called right hands until Vince crumpled to the mat in pain. Keller grabbed Vince by his long blondish brown hair and dragged him to the center of the ring. He hoisted Vince up and drove him down with a big sit down powerbomb. The impact of the move shook the ring and probably damaged Vince’s spine. Keller motioned for Alias to count the pinfall while he had Jacobs down.

ONE…

*Pause*

TWO…

*Longer Pause*

JACOBS KICKED OUT!!

Keller jumped up and got into Alias’ face about the slow count he just made. Alias was right back into Keller’s face exchanging the words. For one, Alias in the mood to count for Keller for any number of OBVIOUS reasons… the most recent being Keller pointing out the fact that he should hurry his ass up, and count said falls. Yeah, that wasn’t the smartest flame to add to the fire.

LLB was heard screaming from ringside about the slow count also, though. So K2 shoved Alias backwards but he was ready to unleash on Keller as he turned Keller around and nailed him with a big right hand. Jacobs saw this as he caught Keller from behind and rolled him up for a cover.

ONE…
TWO…
KICKOUT BY KELLER!!

That was a quick count and Keller couldn’t believe it, as there was a hush from the fans. But Keller stayed right on the attack as he knocked SVJ down with a big forearm shot. He picked up Vince and carried him to the far corner and placed him on the top rope. Vince was literally out of it as Keller started to ascend to the top. He nailed Vince with another right hand for good measures before hooking Vince. Keller took Vince and himself off that top rope with a big overhead belly to belly suplex. Keller slowly made his way over to Jacobs’ chest and placed an arm across it. Alias slowly dropped down for the count.

ONE…

TWO…

NO!! NO!! NO!!

Vince Jacobs got his shoulder up, as this time Alias counted more of a normal paced pinfall… if not still a bit slower then usual. Of course he still wasn’t willing to, people! Come on! LLB rushed into the ring again as this time the crowd thought that he and Alias were going to come to blows since one man was trying to ref down the middle while the other was one-sided against Keller.

K2 was stunned, as was this crowd. The veteran was not going to go down that easily. Keller slammed his hands into the mat in frustration, as he didn’t know what to do to keep Jacobs down. Keller pointed to the top ropes again. The fans jeered as Keller slowly got to his feet and carried the lifeless body of Vince Jacobs to the corner again.

Keller placed Vince on the ropes backwards as he nailed Vince with a shot to the back of the head. He started to climb behind Jacobs but Vince in desperation nailed Keller in the mouth with several elbow shots. Keller staggered backwards falling off the ropes as Vince climbed to the top rope looking backwards to see where Keller was. Keller turned around only to be met with an Asai moonsault, which was promptly turned into an Inverted DDT.

The Reason there is a Show

Jacobs pulled that moved from out of nowhere as both men lay on the mat. Neither man moving a muscle as the fans cheered for this World Title match. Alias didn’t know what to do. Both men started to stir. Jacobs pulled himself up to his feet as Keller did the same with the help of the ropes. Jacobs saw this and raced toward Keller but K2 ducked and sent Jacobs flying over the top rope to the floor.

Keller climbed out of the ring to the floor after Vince. K2 folded up a steel chair and waited for Jacobs to get to his feet. Jacobs stood and turned around as K2 was ready to nail him with the chair but LLB was there to snatch the chair away. The fans erupted as Keller and LLB was going nose to nose. The Law was trying to make sure this match was called fair and square even if Alias seemed he was going to be favoring Jacobs. LLB and K2 continued with their words as Jacobs rolled into the ring to try to escape Keller’s onslaught.

Keller was going to punish Vince and Alias was going to get to watch. That sick smile of Keller once again appeared as he stalked SVJ in the ring. Keller picked up Vince and whipped him into the corner very hard as Jacobs’ back wrenched in pain from the impact. Keller walked into the corner and drove several shoulder blocks into Vince’s midsection. Keller locked Vince by the head looking for what may seem like a bulldog attempt. He came out of the corner with Jacobs but Vince blocked the attacked sending Keller into the ropes. K2 bounced off the ropes as Jacobs was looking for a clothesline but Keller ducked the attempt.

He turned Vince around and hooked him in a front chancery. Keller hoisted Vince up for a suplex attempt but Jacobs reversed it and landed on his feet behind Keller. K2 quickly turned around and his head was snapped back by a quick devastating Superstar Kick. Both men fell to the mat spent. Both of these men were going to pull out all the stops to become the new ACW World Heavyweight Championship. This matched showed how much each man wanted the title.

K2 and Vince both made it to their knees. K2 got to his feet and staggered over toward Vince and bent down to pick him up. Jacobs nailed Keller with an elbow shot and then a quick kick to the gut. Vince ran to the opposite ropes and bounced off coming back with a quick Star Gazer that sent Keller back to the mat in a heap. Vince draped his arm over Keller’s chest for Alias to make the count.

ONE…

TWO…

THR--- NO!! KICKOUT BY K2!!

Everybody in the arena was surprised that Keller kicked out. Jacobs slapped the mat with his hands in frustration. The experience of Jacobs had to come into play now. He had to pull out all the stops to put Keller away. K2 and SVJ both got to their feet and both men went at it to the delight of the fans. Vince was in a fistfight with K2 as the two men showed the anger and emotion that had built up over the past month.

RIGHT…

LEFT…

RIGHT…

LEFT…

RIGHT…

LEFT…

RIGHT…

LEFT…

K2 started to get the advantage on Jacobs sending him back to the ropes. K2 whipped Vince into the ropes. SVJ bounced off the ropes and slid under the legs of K2. Vince turned K2 around…

A STELLAR PERFORMANCE

Vince got good leverage on the choke bomb as he drove K2 down to the mat. Vince quickly hooked the leg for the cover.

ONE…

TWO…

THRE-- NO!! K2 GOT HIS SHOULDER UP AT THE LAST POSSIBLE SECOND!!

Vince was running on a different gear now as he had turned it up a notch. He went to the top rope waiting for K2 to get to his feet as both Alias and LLB continued to look on. K2 stood up as Vince came off with a flying cross body from the top. K2 out of nowhere caught Vince and drove him down with his own momentum with a power slam.

The crowd gasps as K2 went for the cover on SVJ. Alias looked at LLB before dropping down to make the count.

ONE…

TWO…

THR--- NO!! VINCE GOT A SHOULDER UP!!

K2 quickly hooked Vince with a half Boston Crab putting more pressure on Vince’s already semi injured back. Vince was in pain as K2 kept on the pressure trying to wear the former ACW World Champion down. Vince held his arm out trying to get to the ropes but K2 added more pressure. Vince screamed in pain as Alias tried to see if Vince wanted to give up. Though it was lesson a question and more, a nagging, poking at Vince. Giving him the incentive to do the EXACT opposite.

“Vince what do you say?”

Vince continued to scream in pain.

“You’re going to give up, aren’t you?”

“FUCCKKKK NOOOOOO!!!”

K2 continued with the pressure as Vince tried to inch his way to the ropes. SVJ stretched his arm out and grabbed the bottom ropes. Alias told K2 to break the hold which he did as Vince rolled out of the ring. K2 went to the floor to get to Vince but Vince was waiting for K2. Keller raced in and Vince moved out of the way as K2’s shoulder rammed into the steel steps. Vince picked up K2 and rolled him into the ring. SVJ held his back as he gingerly made it into the ring himself.

Alias stepped back as Vince Jacobs slid into the ring. Jacobs pointed to the top rope once again as he was ready to fly in this grueling match for the World Title. Vince slowly made his way to the top rope which gave Keller some time to recoup. SVJ finally made it to the top rope but Keller was on his feet and met Jacobs at the tope with a right hand to the gut then face. The Superstar sat back on the top rope as Keller started to ascend to the top with Vince.

The crowd gasped because they had no idea what Keller had in mind up there. This was not like Keller to be on the top rope but it was home for Vince. Keller made his way to the top with SVJ as both men stood high atop the rope. The crowd looked on in shock as Keller drove Vince down to the mat with a big Superplex that shook the ring and broke both men in half.

Keller did not move after the impact and Jacobs flopped around on the mat like a fish out of water. Both men had put their bodies on the line for that twenty pounds of gold and I know these two men would do it again. They both lay there for what seemed like an eternity as Alias and LLB looked at each other as to say, “What to do now?”

Alias grinned. Now this, of course, made LLB more then a touch uncomfortable… as the match hadn’t been all that easy to keep in line tonight… and a match of this scale, should have to be by the line. Or so thought The Law.

The Pulp Original, though, walked over to the post-superplex carnage though. Both men where stirring. Kneeling down by the side of SVJ… he decided to give a few words of encouragement.

“Get up. Get up, or a I swear to god, I’ll get you up myself.” Where Alias’s words through clenched teeth. However a figure loomed over him. LLB.

“No you won’t. He’ll get himself up, just like Keller over there.”

Alias sneered at LLB, before looking back over at K2 who was now up to one knee, and then looking back at LLB. Alias stood up as he looked back at LLB, as the crowd rumbled in anticipation now, at what might blow wide open. LLB was surprisingly the first to talk.

“What, more tough words for me? If you kindly remembered, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be here. So why don’t you start doing your JOB before I find you in contempt.” All this was said with a straight forward glare, Keller and SVJ still stirring to there feet in the background. Alias had a promise left for LLB though.

“LL… before this match is over, I’ll have removed you from it. You understand that?”

“You can’t remove me from something… that I’m already to much a part of, Alias. Sorry to tell you.” Alias arched an eye at LLB’s last statement, before he could question what it meant, he was knocked from side, down to the ground by Keller.

Not that it was entirely on purpose, mind you.

You see, while LLB and Alias bantered back and forth to each other, the World title combatants had finally made it to there feet. Not only that, but they had immediately started beating on each other. Keller got the upperhand and whipped Vince towards the ropes, but the Superstar reversed it and sent Keller off the ropes and back towards him. One leapfrog later and Keller went rattling towards the opposite ropes and into Alias, before it was all said and done.

Keller looked over at the Pulp Original, as they both now sat on the mat, flat on there ass, beside each other. “Shite job that you’re doing, father of the year. Keep it up.”

Alias growled, but before he could lunge towards a grinning Keller, he was pulled away by LLB, back up to his feet. Keller, for the trouble of being such a fuck, got a choice kneecap to the side of the head, from SVJ.

Alias pushed himself away from LLB, and the two referees spaced themselves out, across the ring, as SVJ brought Keller to his feet. SVJ shot a forearm into Keller’s mug and smiled. “Smart move there, ya fuck. Pinballing yourself off a ref and then not keeping your attention on man who’ll legally break your face.”

“You see the expression on his face, Jacobs?” Keller coughed roughly as he was punched in the gut, “The priceless moment there, makes your girl punches *cough* worthwhile.”

Yes, Keller had found renewed purpose in this match… after almost being screwed over in the middle. He was set to twist SVJ over the edge, and evidently… SVJ was obliging with two more right hands into the stomach before grabbing Keller’s arm and twisting it around in a hammerlock.

With his arm pulled around and out of place, Keller was not in all that much of a conversational mood anymore.

Now enjoying the advantage once more, The Superstar wasted no time in leering over Keller, forcing down with all his might and bending the Miami-native’s (yes, Keller’s from the sunshine state… ironic, aye?) arm back painfully. A small smile creased Jacobs’s face as he realized that he had this match exactly where he wanted it, and the people within it right there with him, but said realization quickly vanished in the wake of a headbutt to the solar plexus from Keller.

Positioning his shoulder in Vince’s armpit, Keller drove the SVJ into the mat with a double-armed Northern Lights suplex. Bridging for the cover, LLB waived Alias off of counting it and hit the mat, slapping it once, twi--, before SVJ kicked out.

Both men were quickly back up to their feet, though of COURSE less quickly then prior… with all the chaos that had already been thrown out there for all to participate in… and they began to circle one another, each looking for another opening. Even Alias. Meaning LLB was keeping his eye on Alias.

Keller quickly shot in for an amateur style takedown, differing from his usual style, but hell this was the biggest match of the night, save for the match which was named after the frickin’ PPV. Jacobs sprawled, forcing his entire weight down on Keller’s upper body. Keller powered in through it with a tight latch on waistlock, executing a German suplex, rolling through and executed another one in a breathtaking variation of the traditional sequence.

Before he could execute a third suplex, however, Jacobs grabbed his left arm and executed a seated switch, countering directly into an armbar. Wrenching back on Keller’s shoulder, Jacobs worked the hold for all it was worth, but due to the weak way the hold was locked in, K2 was able to shift his weight quickly and release himself from the hold.

Khristian Keller got to a complete vertical base and Vince charged and delivered a knee lift to his opponent’s chin, sending Keller back to the mat. Pulling the Dirty Bastard back to his feet, Jacobs sent Keller into the ropes with an Irish whip. On the return, he hooked Keller around the waist and looked for a high and wide hip toss, but Keller blocked with his foot and countered with a twisting belly-to-belly suplex of his own. Ahhh, what a bitch of a reply.

Though Vince wasn’t the only one that groaned in pain on the mat, as Alias also growled to himself as a reply to Keller’s pressing advantage.

Finding himself back on the offensive, Keller went to one of his favorite moves, whipping Jacob’s to the corner and then following in with a hefty shoulder block to the stomach, grabbing SVJ’s head as he bent over in pain and bashing it into his raised knee with both hands, before hopping up onto him and moneky flipping “the Reason” into the center of the ring. I know what Keller called it, but it looked like hell, is all. Keller went for the cover from it but didn’t hook the leg. LLB made the count, once again, to Alias’s mounting chagrin.

One!

Two!

Thr-No!

Yeah, you know you should have hooked that leg there, Killer. Hindsight is 20/20, I suppose. The End Game crowd being all ruuuaaah’d up through the latter half of what had been a fantastic night still didn’t know who to cheer for, oh no, BUT they where still on the edge of there seat.

They cheered for the safety of those girls, but not Jacobs. Alias’s comupance, but not Alias himself. They where a torn bunch, but hell, this is me talking about the crowd… so it’s safe to say there where VARYING point of views in this raucous New Yawk crowd. With Jacobs down, Keller had an upper hand. Still clutching his neck, the most pained out of all his other bludgeoned body parts, Keller picked The Reason There Was, Is and Will Always Be A Show (like that twist, huh? ;)) up, and locked him up for a Dragon suplex.

He nailed the move, tossing Jacobs back quite a few feet in the process on the roll afterwards. Keller lifted his body up and slumped towards SVJ. He made a cover. LLB pounced to the mat once more, as Alias had now propped himself in the lonliest of turnbuckles, rubbing the back of his thumb up and down his goatee in what seemed like a boiling, nervous twitch-like, cold, hard ball in the pit of your stomach, sort of anticipation.

One.

Two.

...

Three!

...

Oooo, let’s consult Seth’s Magic Eightball on this one.

((8))… and yes, it’s a fancy new design.

Question: Wait, uh, Keller just won? Didn’t that come off a bit, oh, anti-climatic?

*shake*((8))*shake*

Answer: If it wasn’t actually two and nine-tenths, yes it would have! So read on! Enjoy!

Happy Magic Eightball, there. Didn’t even swear once… which is surprising for a Seth creation. :D Back to the match! So yes, SVJ had kicked out, despite what Keller thought was a slow count. (When really it was just me rambling, so shush.) LLB just scowled back at him, not liking this shit treatment. He wasn’t Alias. Keller still voiced his concerns with the ref while he picked up the Jacobs, like only he could. He continued to jaw at The Law while he tossed Vince in the corner.

Then, being the right bastard that he was, Keller grabbed SVJ and as forcefully as he could muster, whipped him into the adjacent turnbuckle. SVJ hit the turnbuckles chest-first, and then stumbled back. Keller was waiting; he locked him for another German suplex. He nailed it, holding SVJ in the move.

The two got up, and Keller picked Jacobs up. Then placed him on the top rope. What, you think he was going for the rolling German’s again? He’s already gone and done that foo! K2 was going to try something dangerous. Aaaand probably half-deadly too.

Keller climbed to the top second rope, and started locking the Jacobs in for a super fall-away slam. However, SVJ seemed to have woken up during this time. He began to hit That Dirty Bastard with various rights. So, of course, Keller hit back. However, SVJ got the upper hand, as he pushed Keller off the second rope. K2 fell off, landing on his back. SVJ wasted no time, flying off the top with a splash. However, Keller wasn’t entirely out of tricks.

He rolled through SVJ’s splash, the moment he hit with the splash, countering it into a small package.

One!

Two!

Thre-No!

The Superstar once again kicked out at the last possible second, as LLB stood back up, sending the electric New York crowd into a wall of cheers. No, not for SVJ. Hell, it seemed they had decided to cheer against Keller… then for any one other person, is all. The two battered warriors got to there feet and once again sized each other up, before moving towards each other for another go.

Maybe the final attempt between the two tonight. The referees however had been quiet, in there own respects, for a while now… and you where just wondering what may blow wide open with a decision. The amazing fact… in this, what seemed to be the final clash involving all three men, and the injection of LLB, blood had yet to be spilt. SVJ took the quick advantage with a kick to the gut, but Keller countered that by sweeping Jacob’s feet from under him.

Jacob’s was back up in a flash however, seemingly driving on adrenaline, and in time to duck a hard clothesline from Keller. Now behind Keller, The Superstar applied a full nelson and lifted Keller straight up, as much as he could with there like sizes, only to have him fall back forward and throw Jacobs over with a well-executed arm drag. SVJ, though, was still far from through, and rolled back to his feet. He rushed Keller once more, and reacted instinctively once again with a high leg kick, only to have Keller catch it and lock him up for a leg capture suplex.

SVJ went up and over, landing on his back once more tonight. Thinking on his feet, Keller pulled Jacobs up and grabbed a hold of his waist. SVJ ran forward, towards the rope trying to break the waistlock but Keller held on and rolled out backwards. He was quick onto his feet, and Jacobs charged. He was kicked in the stomach for his troubles, though. Keller went for an incredibly vicious move. He had just taken away what seemed like Jacob’s last effort… and this was now his put to force.

Keller looked over at Alias and smiled… LLB looking away for this moment.

High-Angle Powerbomb.

The spiking bitch of all the highest angles, of course. Atleast… it’s what Keller had in mind.

Jacobs, however, wasn't going to have any of that. He hooked his legs around Keller's head when he was lifted up and powered him over with a hurracanrana-type move, only just not as graceful.

Stamina is a bitch. Especially when it kicks the bucket.

Keller, almost on instinct however, had rolled through, pinning Jacob’s down. Catching the legend completely off guard.

And out of luck.

LLB dropped down to make the count, as Alias stood straight up from his perch.

One!

Two!

And on the swinging third… Alias had stepped in. He had stepped in and sent a punt of a fucking kick across LLB’s jaw. There was no third count. SVJ kicked out a second later. Keller and Jacobs paused in there action though, for this moment they where to tired to jump back to there feet and tear at each other for another moment.

The crowd roared down booes.

LLB started slumping to all fours, but that kick had knocked him for a loop. Alias squatted down in front of him now, and talked into the back of his head. The camera man at the side of the ring was catching every word.

“I’m a goddamned fool, so blinded by all of this… this whole set-up, this whole chance at Keller… chance at some sort of twisted revenge on the bastard, for Izzy… that I failed to remember the single reason why I’m here. I failed to piece together Keller’s bullshit plan. Everything and how it unfolded… my god, I was so blind. I was suckered into thinking that after I lost, I lost it and I beat up that man… tore into him. Something that I’m sorry for, yeah, but after I tore into him… I was suckered into believing that when SVJ got you to get me out on bail, that was the first time you found your way into all this shit.

Damn it, I was such a fool.

Keller’s plan wasn’t water tight… it wasn’t fool proof. He needed two people.

Two children to be taken, as quick as possible. Right?

Keller took Izzy.” Keller grinned, behind Alias… the crowd hushed.

“And you, you took out Jacobs. You tied up Victoria. You took his child.

How else could Vince have tracked you down so quickly… you where more to willing to help us out after it was to late, after Keller had already pressed his advantage and got what he wanted. You where more then willing to interject yourself in this match. THIS match!

You bastard. In all of this, you have been working for Keller this entire time. Haven’t you?” The hush had turned into a shocked murmer, was what Alias was saying, true? Or was he just trying to be a manipulative dick. Screw Keller in the end, without having to hand the match to SVJ, a man he still hated, and take out the only problem he had in deciding to do so, in LLB?

Clap.

Clap.

Clap.

Nothing else had to be said, but it was.

"Well fucking done Colombo...well fucking done."

As LLB looked away with a disappointed glare to him. Yeah, he had been roped in by the money of it… but as Keller mockingly “golf clapped” for Alias’s deduction, LLB knew that he was going to have to redeem himself for this. The man wanted his comeback, he didn’t want to be labeled a thief on this damn first impression.

Keller continued to grin like the devil as the crowd once again rained down booes… and it seemed this match was slowly becoming a foregone conclusion in and of itself. SVJ stood there in place, seemingly frozen in shock by the events that had just transpired. I mean, you would too… the man you assumed you had brought in to loophole things into your court.

Not so much.

Having gotten things off his chest though, Alias still clad in the sleeveless zebra stripes and all… was now boring a hole through Keller. No Khristian had made it to his feet, not knowing what was coming next, and he shifted into a defensive stance because… well… Alias’s head looked like it was ready to pop with the clenched teeth it now revealed in a meeeean snarl.

Very angry, was the Original Pulp.

And soon after, he was lunging too, straight at K2.

Jacobs snapped out of his daze, as Alias collided with Keller and both men tore towards the ropes.

LLB now stood, at around the same time that Jacobs had snapped out of it, and looked towards Alias and Keller… with cold intent. However, honestly, you weren’t quite sure which one of them he was sizing up.

LLB lunged forward with erroneous intent, as Alias and Keller continued to lay right hands into the each other, the force of each closed fisted punch knocking each man for a loop, with a massive and painful recoil echoing each time.

Right hand from Alias, right hand from Keller… The Law charging forward with each step and Jacobs took the unfolding chaos all in. He just took it all in… until, The Law lunged forward…

Erroneous Conclusion

Strangest thing though. Superstar Vince Jacobs pulled Alias away from Keller. Saved him from the on-coming collision.

Fucking serious.

LLB tore into Keller, with his infamous spear, though. Catching him completely off guard, and therefore probably doing THAT much more damage. Keller was out on the ground, completely out on the ground. LLB slowly stood up, looking at what he had done… and even after what had been revealed. What he had done with Keller, to Alias and SVJ… you could hear from the crowd, those cheers, those cheers for what he had done TO Keller.

Celebration was short lived for one LLB, however, as Alias pushed himself away from SVJ and rushed towards LLB. There was still something he just had to do. The Original Pulp pushed LLB from behind and into the ropes. The Law tumbled forward and then tumbled back, twisting towards Alias as he hit the ropes chest fist. Then twisting in mid-air… and leaving a dent in the mat with his head.

A-BOMB

The tilt-a-whirl piledriver had now seemingly taken LLB out of commission in this chaotic pin balling and… hell, surprise saves. Alias looked back at Jacobs, as he got to his feet… and the Superstar was already grabbing Keller and bringing him up off the mat. Alias stepped forward and grabbed the nigh-unconscious Keller though, and before Jacobs could say a word, motioned his head towards the side of the ring, his expression otherwise very cold and without communication or emotion.

SVJ had saved Alias’s ass… and now… Alias had repayed the favor. Jacobs knew what they where doing to do. Yeah, feels like the team of Jacobs and the Tin Angel all over again. Seemed as if Keller’s best laid plans had come to waist.

Jacobs held onto Keller for a moment, making sure he stayed standing as Alias ducked behind him and lifted him on his shoulders, in what would seem like the first logical step of an Electric Chair Drop. Then…

Then Jacobs slid onto the apron, centering himself between the two turnbuckles beside him… the crowd drew deathly silent for a moment… not just for the historic fact that, dear God, SVJ and Alias where working together… but there where not exactly sure what they where about to see.

They wouldn’t be forgetting it anytime soon, either.

Alias turned towards SVJ, standing a good six feet from the ropes, with Keller still on his shoulders.

SVJ, and it’s a damn good thing he had saved his feckin’ energy till this moment, SPRING BOARDED OFF THE ROPES and with the height he got from that, twisted onto Keller’s shoulders and RIPPED him down OFF Alias what came off as a relatively smooth, swinging motion towards the middle of the ring!

Alias was glad to push Keller away, as SVJ whipped his body with great velocity onto the canvas AND… the crowd… went… well… ballistic.

HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT!

HOLY SHIT!

New York, New York… what a wonderful town. They didn’t mind that the move was performed by the ref and one of the World title participants on another participant. Because (a) he was KELLER and (b) it just looked fuckin’ awesome!

Admittedly the crash site didn’t exactly come to a stop in the center of the ring, because even though SVJ got a fare tumble out of the move himself, Keller was sent ricocheting off the canvas of the squared circle. Coming to a rolling stop underneath the bottom rope on the OTHER side of the ring from where he was once on Alias’s shoulders.

The crowd was still screaming HOLY SHIT as SVJ crawled over to Keller, rolling him from under the ropes, and finally lying across him… a prevalent grin on his face. Alias dropped to his knees, staring his long-time enemy in the eye as SVJ lay across the chest of Keller, the Original Pulp counting the three seconds that The Superstar wanted SO BADLY to hear.

From Alias too, those three slaps meant that much more to SVJ. It meant, to SVJ, that HIS plan… had worked.

ONE!

SVJ winked at Alias. The cold twist in Alias’s stomach was still there.

TWO!

Then Alias looked past Jacobs… and saw it, Keller’s foot on the rope. Keller was still more out of it then anything, but it was obviously instinctive. 

Keller was a bastard, if nothing else.

THREE!

Didn’t matter.

Raising his hands in victory, SVJ basked in this moment… this moment when HE had won, HE had done it, it was all HIS again. 

The World Title. 

The control. 

The power. 

All of it. 

The bell-keeper and announcer didn’t know what to do, as they talked back and forth to each other. The crowd could only jeer now, the chants and cheers for the entertainment of the closing moments having subsided with such an underhanded decision by THERE Hero, well atleast those who where still holding on since breakOUT and since Andy Sharp’s stitches.

As he kicked Keller’s leg off of the rope, Alias wasn’t anyone’s Hero anymore.

However, as Alias’s head hung down low, and not necessarily from shame, he knew in his mind that he still had his little girl. He had her back. Fuck the world, and it’s titles, he had his little girl back. Though hey, he couldn’t even muster the power to signal for the bell.

SVJ laughed. Amongst the ever prevalent jeers and the general chaos that had just now started to settle, Vince Jacobs could do nothing more then laugh. He rolled to the side of the ring, as Alias now stood between Keller and the ropes, looking around at what had just happened, at Keller and LLB. SVJ called for the World Championship belt and a mic.

Things weren’t over yet.

SVJ could still only grin, because hell, he had his little girl back, he was going to Legends. He was what he had set out to become, this whole time. There was something though, looking at Alias, that SVJ had to say to this, his long time enemy.

“Chris, Chris, Chris… you know something?

You where always the more emotional of the two of us, your mind always on one purpose, only going in one direction. Now, hell, that works well when you’re chasing this,” SVJ said, raising the gold off his shoulder just a bit, “But damn it, Hero…” The last word was dripping with sarcasm, for the crowd.

“It sure makes you easy to manipulate.”

Alias whipped his head up towards SVJ, with wildly confused eyes. SVJ continued.

“I’ve got my gold, this is my gold, and hell… as an added bonus my daughter can go back to the safety of her mother. You though, you’re shit out of luck. I’ve used you as far as I can take you with this. Hell, I’m surprised you had the spirit to last this long.” Alias eye twitched, his mind was raising and body was quietly shaking.

“Maybe you think you’re as tough as nails, but I’ve broken you, and you thought you could end my career all those years ago! Fuck you! I came back, didn’t I?! You think, that after I’ve gotten the advantage, yeah you might have gotten the best of me in the beginning, but after I GET THE ADVANTAGE, you think you can lose your mind and take me out with a chair at breakOUT… make YOURSELF out to be bad ass! Go to hell, Chris… because Izzy?

Keller can keep your daughter. Do with her, what he wants.”

Alias could speak through clenched teeth, “You do that… and Vince, I’m not going to give you the courtesy of dea—“

“You think you’ve always got the last word, don’t you! Well you might be able to act on what you say, but you’re blind to what’s happening around you, Chris. Fucking BLIND! Cause here’s the thing, I’m making the decisions… and Keller will agree with what I say. He’ll go ahead with the PLAN! You’re so concerned with your OWN cause, you failed to realize, sure Keller needed a second man to help him out… but that didn’t leave out the possibility of a third…

YOU and you alone… are the odd man out, tonight.” SVJ grinned, the TRUE revelation had been made. The crowd erupted in jeers, they couldn’t believe it. Still SVJ continued. “What? You think that after the rumors that swirled around you and Keller planning to take ME out, at breakOUT, I wouldn’t have a plan?! I was almost lucky that you were stupid enough not to go along with it. Like you always have, you only wanted to think about YOURSELF!

Though my little girl, MY World Championship,” Somehow that second thing seemed to be more endeared to Jacob’s heart, “Have always been safe. You, Chris, you just had to believe that Keller was a sick enough bastard to take both girls, endanger BOTH of their lives. When really, he only had his eyes on one.

LLB was our precautionary measure. The best possible lawyer to make you we weren’t going to bring down unnecessary shit into this situation… and you,” SVJ chuckled to himself, and Alias? Alias was trying to move, trying to… and he wanted to rip Vince’s face off. “You took LLB out of the picture before we had to worry about that damn lawyers better nature.

I even fronted Keller the MONEY he needed, Chris! I paid for each hotel he hid them in, and told you lies to your drunken face. Whether you believed me, or you never he attempted to look in your damned inebriated state… you would never find them because I knew how to get one step ahead. Though the probably leaves you wondering just why Keller and I went to all this trouble… tore into each other like we did tonight. Why did I leave Keller like that?” SVJ motioned towards Keller as K2 began to stir to his feet finally. “Why?”

Alias looked down at Keller and back at Vince. Vince winked and Alias and looked away in disgust. 

“You… you wanted me to count the pin for you.”

“Bingo.” Came the response from Jacob’s snake grin. “Thought it would be a fitting touch… plus hell, Keller and I aren’t exactly fond of each other either, so it was a bonus that I got to cause him more then a little pain in the end.”

Keller had finally gotten to his feet. “Yeah, fuck you too.” As Vince continued to smile and raised his hands up in the air, starting to play to the crowd and spout off at the mouth. Alias though, he could do nothing else but fall to his knees. SVJ was going to die, but right now, Alias was just… lost.

Keller looked down on his and shook his head in pity, because yeah, he was heartless like that. Alias' gaze was now fully on Keller, as he seemed to float around the ring, everything else was silent as Alias' head and vision turned to mush. 

He bent over though, and talked slowly into Alias’s ear. The devil on his shoulder again, as it where.

“One thing chief...everyone saw the foot, you know. On the rope… and Vince is so lost in what he did to you, that he’s failed to realize something veeery important. This match isn’t over.” 

Keller said nothing else, instead, he moved to an obscure position in the ring, and moved his head as Alias looked right through him

IZZY.

Keller smirked.

Then he stood up, and pounced towards SVJ, as best he could in the shape he was in.

Still, he caught Vince completely off guard and sent the World title flying as the Superstar was hefted up in the air.

Then spiked back down.

TRANQUILIZER

The champion was out cold, and Keller, hooking both legs, looked up at Alias… who had looked away from Izzy for the only moment that he would allow himself.

“Count it… and she’s yours...it's over.”

One. Two. Three.

The bell rang. Through crosses and double crosses… revelations and screw-jobs. T

he more things changed, the more they got fucked up and fell back into place.

For the first time in a LONG time… ACW had a NEW CHAMPION!

The crowd wasn’t happy, but it wasn’t about to riot… because at the moment, all the news and happenings had been a bit much for them to digest at this very moment. Alias was straight out of the ring, as fast as he could go, after that second three-count.

The Original Pulp jumped into the crowd, pushing those aside who didn’t quietly part away from his path like most of the people between he and Izzy. His seven year old angel out stretched her arms and the Tin Angel scooper her up once he reached her. Alias held her tight, held her with the knowledge that… that there relationship wouldn’t ever be the same again. She knew about the evils that he dealt with, the evils within him.

That didn’t matter to him at the moment, he had her… and as his eyes burned, looking back towards the ring, he’d have Jacobs too. It would end with the Superstar. The Superstar would end.

SVJ could only hold his head in pain, and curse what the fuck had just happened. What he had just lost. He had just been double-fucked. Keller turned his back on the plan, he turned away from what Jacobs had masterminded. It was HIS plan, never Keller’s. Jacobs had been royally screwed by Keller, and Alias, well Alias hadn’t been paid back, it seemed. No, not yet.

Though for now, SVJ learnt that there wasn’t any honor amongst thieves.

Which was why Keller smiled that much more. He certainly embodied everything that came with the Dirty Bastard that he was… but to worry about SVJ at the moment? Fuck ‘em. Keller might be a fucking bastard… but kidnapping just wasn’t his thing, thanks. He wouldn’t end the night, running away with a kid in tow, like the month before, oh no… he’d watch the End Game match with a devil-ish smile… and wait.

He’d wait for his number one contender. The man who’d wait for his at Legends. The sounded nice to Keller. Legends.

He’d sneer and he’d grin. He’d flip off the booing masses as they jeered his very being.

Cause he didn’t give a damn about them. He didn’t have to.

As Alias moved back through the crowd, and jumped over the barrier, Keller was leaning on the ring ropes, the belt over his shoulder and a big fuck off smile on his face, as he finished the piece with a few sparse words.

"Chris...I'm not a monster or a murderer, a sicko or a freak, but I am, the villain on this story."

When all was said and done, Khristain Keller, the first King of Ages, was now World Champion.

…

Yeah, welcome to Hell, SilverHAWK and company. 

Hell to Legends, and whomever awaited Keller by the end of the night. 

Enjoy.

Winner and NEW ACW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION > Khristain Keller

Wrestling, with all it's endorsements and large contracts, is something that has never really changed since the dawning of time.

Wrestling, is in essence, the battle between one, or more men.

Warriors if you will.

Warriors of beauty.

Hell.

Someone once said; "Wrestling is ballet with violence..."

How true they are.

Tonight, was the Nutcracker of all ACW PPVs.

Tonight, was the [insert another famous ballet here] all of matches.

...

Tonight, we promised to tell you what a legend really was.

Witness the making of one.

Right now.

In just a matter of days, the ACW production staff had collected the names of thirty war ready warriors, awaiting their chance to change, or take the next step in their destiny... and with that, a chance at the ACW World Heavyweight Champion, now known as Khristain Keller.

And then, the bell rang.

Pop city.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, THE FINAL BOUT OF THE EVENING, IS THE END GAME MATCH!...THIRTY COMPETITORS WILL FIGHT IT OUT FOR A CHANCE AT THE CURRENT ACW WORLD CHAMPION, AND A SHOT, AT LEGENDS II! PLEASE WELCOME, CONTESTANT NUMBER ONE!"

the opening chords of a soft ballad played...before venomous guitars kicked in as well as the bands drummer, "Mr. Jack" by System of a Down roared through the arena.

Justin Williamson / PRIME

The PURE Jr graduate began to make his way to an ACW ring for the first time in his professional career, and if truthful, only a small number of the fans could really recognise the man whom calls himself the Deville's Disciple in PRIME, and as he entered the ring, blocking off all thoughts of the crowd in his mind, he looked onto the next man to enter as the arena went quiet.

...

...

A young gentleman walked into the ring, no music, no video, but they already knew who he was...

His t-shirt gave it away too.

HOUND

Making his ACW debut, and looking back at the distinct lack of entrance music, Hound didn't let it phase him as he contained on into the ring looking into it, as Williamson stood, pacing the back of the mat. As Hound entered the ring, only the two men stood, as the bell rang and this match was officially about to begin.

three referee's outside of the ring

two men inside

another twenty eight to follow

one winner

END GAME

Williamson struck the first blow of the match with a hard right hand to Hound, but snapping back, Hound countered and pushed Williamson back into the corner were he tried to open up on the PRIME contracted star. Jabs to the left and right of Williamson's rib cage warmed both men up, and a reversed Irish whip to the opposite corner put Williamson in control.

Two hard right hands, Hounds head was hovering...and so it was ripped into Williamson's armpit as a bulldog sent the Hound down to the mat with a bang.

1:13

Hound grasped the nearby ring rope as he tried to get his bearings, but a large boot to his face soon made a mess of that kind of plan. Williamson picked Hound up and tossed him against the ropes, a reverse elbow sending Hounds legs into a shake as he staggered around the middle of the ring, and soon to capitalize, Williamson catapulted himself against the ropes and crashed into Hound with a hard clothesline...and then the image came a crop in which would be seen a helluva lot for the match.

The countdown.

5...

4...

3...

2...

1...

...

"Average Man" (instrumental) by Obie Trice.

NINJA K / Legacy of Champions

One of the most unique superstars in wrestling today took his place at the top of the ACW ramp, not for the first time in his career, and looked down to the path to the ring below and began to descend to the ring. INSIDE the ring, Hound was trying to get back to his feet, but Williamson made sure that Hound wasn't going anywhere. Picking him up and pushing him into the corner, Williamson climbed the turnbuckle and began to leather into the Hounds face with a parry of punches.

Williamson's attention soon turned to the Ninja, whom has just entered the ring, and as he came down from the turnbuckle and swung an arm at the Ronin...all that he got was air. Ninja K bolted towards the ring ropes and came right back at Williamson, and as he turned, K hit him with a thundering leaping roundhouse kick to the temple...to which the ACW fans hit the roof.

Williamson, now seeing stars in the middle of the ring rolled out of the way as Hound took his place, slightly beaten up from the earlier part in the match, but coming from behind, he caught Ronin out with an axe handle to the back of the neck. With such an act of big lady ness as an attack from behind is, the ACW fans let him know straight away as Hound began to stomp the Ninja into the bottom of the mat with hard heel shots more or less.

0:57

As Williamson began to get his wits about him, peering into the centre of the ring was Hound and the Ninja, now clenched in a headlock as the Hound had went to ground and locked his lighting fast opponent to make sure he didn't try any funny business. Twsited and squeezing K's head, he was unaware to the imminent danger behind him, ie Justin Williamson, but instead of going for the Hound, Williamson thought back to briefly thirty seconds past, and turned on an ankle lock on Ninja K, both the Hound and Williamson nodding to each other in some sort of shady agreement.

1:40

But it wouldn't last for the long as all the fans in the arena looked on, and began the count for the next individual.

...

...

"Nobody' by Skindred.

OSWALD

6'6, 283lbs of sheer gruesome power.

Oswald wasn't in a hurry to get to the ring, but a small jog graced the legs of the Faceless Everyman as he entered the ring, and looked down at the current combo in the ring.

For a small minute, it looked like he would join in.

For a SMALL minute.

Boot to the Hounds face.

Clothesline on Williamson as he tried to get up to attack Oswald, but went flying as he met Oswald's bicep in such a manner. Oswald roared as Hound had the stupidity to get back up, to which he was received by a sharp boot to the stomach, and was then turned upside-down as Oswald picked up up...and dropped him down for a harsh suplex.

Oswald got up, faint screaming going around the arena.

And then he clocked it...like a large chalk outline of a body...to which there was no-one.

And then it came.

A sudden rush of momentum hit the back of Oswald's neck as he staggered forward with continuing jist, before falling on the second rope and turning around.

Ninja K.

1:12

He had quickly and swiftly climbed the turnbuckle and dropkicked Oswald in the back of the neck...sneaky Ninja. K then suddenly began to pick up pace as he geared towards Oswald...baseball slide...but he missed, and now stood outside of the ring.

His intentions however were soon known as he slapped the back of Oswald's head again with his feet, a superb roundhouse kick nearly sending the former tA star to the other side of the ring. Ninja then got back into the ring, and witnessed Hound and Williamson, who were quickly becoming vultures of this early part of the match, begin to pick apart Oswald with elbow drops and clinically placed boots to the temple...to which the Ninja was having none of.

Coming from behind Hound, he lifted him into the air with a firemans carry, before twisting and turning into a kneeling back breaker, the Hound, was broken in half. Williamson quickly read the script, and hit K with a hard right hand before he got his piece, but the Ninja hit back with a slap to the chest, and the two exchanged counter chops and jabs as the time began to countdown...

...

...

'Cover of the Rolling Stone', Dr. Hook.

CHA-EER- BA-OOM

An explosion in noise greeted the United States Champion.

KELLY FLAWLESS

He emerged from the curtain and a smirk the size of Iowa was plastered on his perfect mug...and a bandage over his right knee around just as big. The smirk seemed a fake one, his face heavily bruised and red in colour, his walk was not what you would call smooth by any means, as the match with Sars the Clown earlier in the match had left him severely depleted in resources.

"Perfection has arrived!" Flawless screamed as he turned up the pace to enter the ring, trying to get rid of the cobwebs that covered his whole body, as Williamson held Ninja K in the corner, that was his first point of call. Grabbing Williamson from behind, he crunched him into a neck breaker which cracked the spine by no end...Ninja K and Flawless seemed to know for now they were a going to have to work together.

Oswald was beginning to stir, and as the Hound tried to find the bottom half of his back, Flawless and the Ninja began to work on Oswald. Flawless picked the former tA tag champion to his feet and pushed him to the corner, and with unnatural canny for thought, the Ninja followed up...cart wheeling and somersaulting to Oswald direction, as he landed a hard reverse elbow to Oswald's face.

0:38

Oswald, staggered forward into the lions den, Flawless, waited...and waited, before putting the Sexplex on Oswald.

Was Oswald's ass sore after such a named move?

No.

Well, maybe.

A belly to belly suplex catapulted Oswald across the ring, barely missing the groggy Williamson as he tried to get to his own feet in the mean time. Oswald lay in the middle of the ring groaning as Williamson got to his feet, and as Flawless kept on as Oswald, Ninja K kept on at Williamson, as the Hound was a non-starter at this point in the matchup.

And then it came.

The first elimination.

But who?

Well...as Ninja K grabbed Williamson and pushed him towards the ropes, it seemed that a small spur has got the Hound to his feet, and his target was set on K's back.

One hit.

Two eliminations.

The work of genius.

If done right.

The hound picked up pace behind the Ninja K, BUT, with lighting quick reflexes, managed to jump out of the way just in time, and as he landed and looked up, watched as the first two competitors in the End Game match up would indeed be the first two eliminated, as the Hound and Justin Williamson tumbled out of the event with a very large bump.

The arena erupted...fueled ever more so by the fact that Williamson and the Hound instantly began to knock three layers of shit out of one another as soon as they were able to do so outside the ring...and in it, Oswald was by the ropes, grabbing on for his dear life as Flawless tried to push him over the edge.

Ninja K looked over.

One hit.

Two eliminations.

The work of genius.

If done right.

...

And then the count.

...

...

'Money' by Pink Floyd.

TEXT LIFE. THIS IS BASIC LOWELLANOMICS.

LOWELL DOT COM

As those words flashed quickly across the ACWs big screen, it signaled the arrival of one of ACWs major stars, and the new Scorpion Champion, and looking worse the wears for it after the title win. The Human Advertising Machine stepped through the curtains to large boos from the crowd. Throwing up his hand sign, whatever the fuck it looked like, it looked cool anyway so that immediately gave him an advantage over the three in the ring...the coolness factor, one debate which would rage on for years if Flawless got his way.

LDC began his journey to the ring and watched on at the action in the ring, and purposely smirking at Flawless as he walked by, Kelly, somehow, managed to stay focuses on the 280lb'er he current had hanging over the top rope. As Lowell entered, he quickly began a quick set-to with the Ninja, trading punch upon punch with the martial arts master, but in no jodo will they ever teach you the praying mantis that Lowell knew, i.e. the poke in the eye.

the . then quickly booted Flawless in the back of the legs as his hold was broken over Oswald, whom didn't take it too likely and began to thunder Flawless in the back with hard axe handles and punches. Lowell quickly got out of the road with a look of disgust at such a brute of a man, and quickly walked into the Ninja, who tossed him up and down on his nuts for an atomic drop, before running to the second rope, and then jumping back on Lowell with a splash that sent them both to the ring canvas.

The Ninja got to his feet, but quickly felt a large hand grip his neck as Oswald came from behind him, obviously he hadn't forgotten that there were two playing that game a little earlier with him, and as he lifted the Ninja into the air, he slammed him onto the mat with a bang.

As Flawless stirred, he watched as Oswald was on the prowl, hoping not to catch his gaze, Flawless got to his feet, and set himself to try and take down the big man, only for Lowell to grab hold of his leg...and leave him flailing as bait.

Like a matador to a bull, Oswald raged towards Flawless, who must have been watching the Ninja earlier as he literally dropped on top of Lowell Dot Com as Oswald crashed into the turnbuckle, and fell out of the ring.

The ring shook...

And as the men in, and outside the ring, took a small breather.

The arena began to shake too...

countDOWN!

...

'Rum is for Drinking', Senses Fail.

DALLAS JONES

A relative newcomer for ACW, Jones jogged to the ring and then quickly used his freshness to try and get some good shots in on the bodies that lay in the ring, he began with Flawless, picking him up from his feet and whipping him into the corner, before charging in with shoulder charge to Flawless rib cage.

Lowell was on his feet.

But Dallas seen that, and clothes lined the Stranglehold member back down to the ground with a bump...the only one left was Ninja K, whom's back still stung from power slam from Oswald. Jones took K by the head and began to thrust his knee into the Ninja's head, but as he held on, the Ninja reversed the situation and took Dallas down to the mat with a drop toe hold.

With obvious disadvantage going to guys such as Flawless, and Lowell Dot Com for their matches earlier in the evening, it seemed about right that these two rested as much as possible, as they both did as Jones and the Ninja now exchanged blows in the right hand corner of the ring...neither Flawless or Lowell wanted to get into any unnecessary scraps if they didn't need to.

The Ninja now had Jones cornered...in the corner, and then decided to move up a step and mount the bassa, as he piled on punches and jabs into Jones' face.

Which would seem to have been a slight mistake on Ronin's part.

You see, Lowell Dot Com...is a sneaky wee bastard, and quicker that you could say velocity, he rushed over to the corner, and shoved the Ninja with all his might...and his might, being enough to put him over the top rope. The Ninja landed on his feet (of course) and instantly peered into the ring at the cocky as fuck H.A.M., and sneered.

Lowell wasn't cocky for long though, as Flawless, who was similarly sneaky, tapped Lowell on the shoulder and waved his finger.

"That wasn't nice Lowell..."

Before caving his teeth in with a hard right hand which sent Lowell staggering into the middle of the canvas.

The Ninja, obviously pissed, picked up the groaning Oswald, and tossed him into the ring, pray to the vultures who would take apart the injured party in the match, and as Ninja K walked up the ramp, he would soon be passed by...

...

UNO

DOS

TRES

CATORCE!

VERTIGO BY U2 BITCHES.

and with the sounds of Bono transcending through the arena, the fans went apeshit.

ANDY SHARP

Making a beeline for the ring, the 3rd member of that classic five-man match earlier in the evening graced the ring, although looking slightly glum and tired from not winning anything earlier in the night, he looked pissed at the same time, and as he slid into the ring, he was quickly introduced to Oswald who had got to his feet, and was quickly off them again as Sharp catapulted himself off the second turnbuckle into a plancha in the middle of the ring.

Lowell Dot Com was having similar problems to Oswald, as Flawless had him in the corner of the ring, Flawless' perfectly made boot stuck in a small nook of Lowell's neck, blocking that much needed air. Dallas Jones continued the current trend of the 'fuckers who sneak up on people after having a small rest and then coming back to life' by catching Flawless with a blow to the back, and then turning him inside out with a German suplex.

This was gonna be a long night for most.

Flawless lay on the mat lifeless...already at this early point in the match he was fucked, but there was no way he was going to give it up. Jones picked up Flawless by his long golden locks and tossed him into the corner, before thrusting kicks into Kelly's midsection, which had been through a war already in the night, and it was about to go through another one tonight.

As Oswald got to his feet, he watched on as LDC and Andy Sharp went toe to toe in the centre of the ring, each man trying to get the upper hand on the other as the earlier events of the night began to take their toll on the competitors in this early stage. Oswald decided to take matters into his own hands, as he moved forward and grabbed both Lowell and Sharp by the head, and began to thrust them towards one another.

Elbow to the stomach by Sharp.

1:22

Kick to the balls by the H.A.M.

And then an almighty push by the two foes.

That was the steps in which lead to Oswald's elimination from the End Game match.]

And then there were four.

Well, for a few seconds at least.

As Jones battered into Flawless in the corner, pulling every dirty trick out the book as he could, Lowell and Sharp looked at one another and gave a slight smirk to one another, as Oswald kicked the barrier outside the ring, but that didn't last long as they soon began to attack one another again, before the countdown took a little bit of their attention.

The clock is winding down, normal seconds fly by like milliseconds as the crowd counts in unison.

5...

..4

..3

..2

..1

Unrecognizable music hit the P.A system as the audience anxiously awaits the next combatants arrival.

Lord have mercy, Jesus Christ
He's just nice, he just slice like a ginsu
Look at the life that I been through
I'm the last real nigga alive, that's official.

"Last Real Nigga Alive" by Nas.

The hulking frame of Osyrus, surprising separated the black drapery in front of him. His smirking expression lights up the ACWtron as the former champion steps forward onto the stage. As the San Diego native moved onward toward the squared circle, he exuded confidence while being showered with thunderous mix reaction of the ACW loyal.

It was three years ago at this very event, when Osyrus won back the ACW title from then Arch-nemesis SilverHawk as the hated heel approached the steel steps, while the combatants on the inside of the ring; watched Osyrus' every movement. Whether anyone wanted to admit it or not, 'The Personification of Talent' had an opportunity of a lifetime tonight to regain his cherished championship. 

OSYRUS

The sounds from the crowd were deafening as Osyrus entered the ring, after a good minute of entrance music and build up, he began to make his way to the ring. Pulling off a large black hoody, his hulking frame looked as insane as ever, and as he jumped into the ring, everyone that was standing went for him.

Right hand shot to Lowell Dot Com.

Right hand shot to Dallas Jones.

Atomic drop to Andy Sharp.

As Lowell and Jones wandered off carrying their jaws with them, Flawless was next up to bat with a weary right hand against Osyrus' right hand side...it didn't affect the big man.

1:22

Osyrus thrust the sole of his foot into Flawless' middrift and then hit the Perfect one with a gruesome uppercut, connecting his bicep to Flawless chin, which sent him instantly crashing to the mat.

Jones was now on the turnbuckle, leaping with all his might to catch Osyrus in the back with a clubbed hand.

Osyrus turned.

Grabbed Jones by the throat, and rag dolled him to the other side of the ring.

"WHO'S NEXT THEN!"

Osyrus, got his answer.

His entrance has taken a large chunk of his allotted 2 minute spell, and as the countdown began, everyone apart from the former ACW champion was on the mat, as Oswald was only just reaching the back from taking a small hissy fit after being eliminated in the match.

"Fix up, look sharp." Dizze Rascal

SLAPNUTZ

Like a bolt of lightening, Slapnutz rushed the arena and sprinted into the ring really not giving it a second thought.

As he got to his feet.

ggggggggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr <- Osyrus growling.

...fuck <- slapnutz shitting it

Osyrus took a hold of Slapnutz's neck and pulled and yanked behind around the ring, before finally unleashing his full force by throwing Slapnutz over the top rope, and out of the match.

Already.

0:13

Osyrus looked at the tron.

"COME ON!"

Low-blow.

Lowell Dot Com's hand stuck in between Osyrus' legs as he connected with his nutsac, as the big man crumbled to the ground their was a good twenty seconds of peace before someone decided to get up. That man was Andy Sharp, he took Lowell by the hair and slammed him to the mat, as he looked around the ring for someone else to take on, he found Jones moving to his feet.

Boot to the stomach

Slammed to the mat.

On top of Lowell...

The Lord of the Skies then took to it, as he leapt up to the top rope and then took his chance to fly.

UNNECESSARY RISK

A 450° splash on top of one man would get an awesome pop on most days.

A 450° splash on top of two men would get an even-more-so-awesome pop on most days.

A 450° splash on top of two men, one which was Lowell Dot Com, in the main event of a PPV, got a fucking massive pop.

There wasn't an arse on a seat.

Of course, this move couldn't have been completed without actually hurting the hurtee, and as Sharp rolled around in pain, holding his ribs, Dallas Jones slid of the body of Lowell Dot Com and proceeded to cry...well not really. As Osyrus slowly got to his feet, he was once again the only man standing, as Lowell and Jones were both two very different men at this point, Sharp lay on the mat thinking his intestines were about to pop out, and Kelly Flawless were more or less fucked from his match earlier in the night.

Osyrus, was in fact raring to go.

Picking up Dallas Jones, a vertical suplex was next on the agenda as Osyrus hooked up for the lift, and brought him down with a crash. Andy Sharp was now up, and a right hand from Osyrus nearly sent him back down, but as he retaliated Osyrus used his momentum, and tossed him over the top rope.

Sharp was...still in.

Flying over the top rope and grabbing onto it at the same time proved to have a certain degree of difficulty, but after a small bit of wailing around, Sharp got back up on the ring apron, and whistled at Osyrus.

"Yo, Osyrus!"

Springboard missle dropkick.

POP city.

And the countdown began...

OMG the fans all died with excitement...well not really.

3...

2...

1...

...

..

"Set Phasers to Stun" by Taking Back Sunday

Chad Callahan.

theSquaredCircle.

...

LONGSHOT

The former tSC star raced to the ring, and he was initially greeted by Andy Sharp who was just moving to his feet, but was soon off them as Longshot completed a belly to belly suplex which sent Sharp fraying across the ring.

The Perpetual Underdog was then encountered by Lowell Dot Com, who was just recovering from the 450 splash, Longshot grabbed him from behind and tossed him with a release German suplex.

Up next though, was Osyrus, a double leg takedown sent Osyrus back on his back, and quick as a cat, Longshot shot climbed onto the top turnbuckle, his back to the ring. Lifted his arms, he quickly shot back, Moonsault which landed directly ontop of the former ACW World Heavyweight Champion.

This part of the match seemed to be a spot fest, however, as Longshot got to his feet after the acrobatics, Dallas Jones knocked him out from the back, sending Longshot into the corner face first. 

Boo's reigned around the arena.

Dallas Jones picked Longshot up, and lifted him over the top rope...scampering for something to hold onto, Longshot grabbed both the top and second rope in a chance to keep himself in the match, but he wasn't the one who should have been worried.

Kelly Flawless, was alive.

An in act which would have made him an enemy for most, such was the sneakiness of the move, but due to the fact he was about to eliminate a bad guy...he got a cheer.

Flawless yanked the legs of Jones, sending both Longshot and Dallas over the top rope, but only one arse hit the ground...and that was Dallas Jones. The crowd cheered as Longshot managed to pull himself back into the ring, but given the nature of the match, he was soon barraged with boots from Kelly Flawless, as he and Longshot began to get to know one another.

Andy Sharp and Lowell Dot com had both restarted what they had began ages ago as they got in each others face in the opposite corner from Flawless, as Osyrus began to stir in the middle of the ring. Flawless picked Longshot up and softened him up in the corner, as Sharp could see what Flawless was doing, Sharp grabbed ahold of LDC's wrist and turned him right around, whipping him to the corner.

COLLISION.

LDC and Longshot now stood in the corner, slightly too close together for their own comfort, before Flawless got to his hands and knees in something which was right out of the Hardy fan book...as Sharp dashed to the other side of the ring and flung himself into the corner with them.

The crowd popped at such as display of team play from Flawless and Sharp, but that was soon broken up.

Gorilla press by Osyrus on Flawless, which didn't help Flawless' current state, but he got up quickly, as Sharp was now up also.

Osyrus, Flawless, and Sharp exchanged right hands as the countdown began, and they contuined throughout, as this match was to take a surreal twist...

3...

2...

1...

..

..

..

The ACWtron video screen litup with a camera running around in the back, faces could be seen, some could not as the fans wondered just what the hell was going on.

Suddenly a well lit room was shown, and a body lay on a gurney as a doctor checked him over.

"Sars, you're up next for the End Game match...hurry up!"

Battered, bruised, and bloody, all Sars could do was look into the camera.

"How about you fuck off?"

And so Sars the Clown was a no-show.

And so the ring action continued.

A knee to Kelly Flawless' chest put him down, as Osyrus continued his assault on Andy Sharp, shoving him into the ring ropes and then flap jacking him onto the mat with sheer power. As Osyrus' attention was on Sharp, it seemed that as Lowell Dot Com and Longshot both got up, they instantly began to take their pain out on one another, a hip toss from Lowell putting Longshot on the ground, as an elbow was then thrust into his face as Lowell then locked in a head lock to the young cruiserweight.

For a small moment in time, the match seemed to be at a stopping point, as Osyrus got down over Sharp and battered his face with right hands, Flawless lay in the corner of the ring, holding every bone in his body, as that's where the pain was, and Lowell and Longshot more or less had a rest, as Lowell squeezed every five seconds to make sure Longshot wasn't having too great a time.

There was a little lull in the match...as there would also be, for the roster to rest, but not for long.

The ACW technicians, given Sars' no show, decided to put the next man on thirty seconds early, and so the countdown began.

4...

3...

2...

1...

The entire arena is quickly plunged into darkness, leaving intense beams of red to slash randomly through the arena as the fans wonder just who the hell is about to enter the fray. 

Jabs of synth then lay a trail for pounding drums, as licks of base trigger lights to flash in series around the arena.

'SUPERCALIFRAGIALISTICWHENWEDROPWEGOBALLISTIC~!'

Overseer's 'Velocity Shift' is then unleashed in full throughout the arena, speakers distorting with bass. 

Caught in a spotlight, Karina Wolfenden is seen standing atop the entrance, in front of the video-wall where her entrance video plays... the footage causing a silhouette of crackling electricity to flow from her body.

K-Wolf / PRIME

K-Wolf stood at the top of the entrance ramp as the lights quickly went back to normal, as she bolted into the ring with sheer excitement driving her from the fans. Diving into the ring, she quickly went to work on anyone that wanted some, the first, was Lowell Dot Com as he moved in, ducking his original right hand shot and bouncing off the ropes, an spinning scissor kick sent Lowell flipping in sheer delight.

Next was Kelly Flawless, as K-Wolf turned around she and Flawless locked up, with Flawless soon being turned around as she pushed him away, and then thrust on him a huricanrana which sent him sky high in the middle of the ring.

K-Wolf was on fire.

Until Osyrus grabbed her by the throat, and lifted her up in a gorilla press...but that wouldn't stop her.

Three kicks to Osyrus' face made him drop her, as she landed on one knee, instantly moving to the corner and climbing the turnbuckle, and as Osyrus turned around to meet his face, K-Wolf sprang off of the top rope, performed one and a half twists in the air, and landed right on top of the big man, as they both crashed to the mat in a heap.

Andy Sharp was now on his feet, a confrontation between Sharp and K-Wolf was surely mouth watering to every fan in the arena at the current moment in time, and as they both squared up to one another, a flurry of attacks started from the duo.

Right hand to Sharp.

Right hand to K-Wolf.

Kick in the stomach to Sharp, and then K-Wolf grabbed a hold of Sharp's wrist and turned it 180 degress. Sharp however had other ideas, pulling her by the hair, he lowered her down, moved his right leg on her hand and flipped himself over her head, before arm dragging K-Wolf across the ring.

She was instantly up, and dash towards Sharp with a flurry.

Sharp ducked.

K-Wolf took the corner head-on by stopping herself with her right foot on the second turnbuckle, before turning around and pushing off with the same turnbuckle for a double footed dropkick.

Sharp grabbed her feet in mid air and pushed her to the mat, before running to the ropes and performing a moonsault off of the second rope.

He missed, only for K-Wolf to get to her feet just as Sharp got to his.

They stopped.

The arena clapped for joy.

And the countdown began.

Just about the same time as Lowell Doc Com low-blowed Andy Sharp in the nuts, as Osyrus grabbed K-Wolf by the hair from behind, arched her over and smashed her with a thunderous forearm to the neck.

3...

2...

1...

...

"Sin" by Nine Inch Nails.

AVALON

The second female in quick succession to join the match, and this time she was of ACW colours. Avalon entered the ring and quickly picked her pray, which was Kelly Flawless, to which she picked up and tried to yank over the top rope immediately, only for Flawless to resist. Longshot had now arisen, after the headlock from Lowell he had watched on at the fighting, biding his time...he did so with Avalon.

Taking her from behind, a German suplex had her sprawled on the canvas...and Longshot held on.

German suplex again...

and again...

and again...

and once more...

1:01

Avalon lay on the mat gasping for oxygen, as did Longshot as he got to his feet, Flawless' thank you for saving him was a sharp DDT to the mat as the ring was now covered with bodies. Lowell Dot Com sat in the corner, Andy Sharp under him as a half Boston crab had the lucha libre's main weapon severely damaged, as Osyrus manhandled K-Wolf in the corner with punches that would be illegal in any other match, the referee's could do nothing from the outside but watch.

Another lull in the match began, as the major new force in the match (Avalon) had been severely taken out by Longshot, who had in turn been taken out by Kelly Flawless, whom's major parts in the match were of a sparse nature, given his current state. Osyrus pushed K-Wolf to the top rope, and hooked her up for a super-plex, which thundered the rings suspension as it hit, Lowell Dot Com watching on with a small smile on his face as Sharp grimaced in pain.

And so it began again, as we took in our 15th competitor (14th really but that Sars fucked it up)

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"I Didn't come to the ACW to be a superstar..."

Vince Jacobs walked through the curtain.

"I brought mine with me."

PRO WRESTLING'S PHENOMENON

An immensely pissed off looking Vince Jacobs had entered the fray, after no less than half an hour ago being screwed from the ACW World Title, he was now looking for another chance at it, and at spot #15, he could have been worse off.

Jacobs took his time going into the ring, as most of the inhabitants were tied up with someone, until Osyrus got to his feet, leaving K-Wolf in the corner of the ring.

The two had history.

Fuck.

Jacobs had retired Osyrus from the ACW.

If that isn't history, what is?

"Come and get some Jacobs..." Osyrus gestured as he looked over at Jacobs on the ring mat.

Jacobs complied, entering the ring slowly, Osyrus standing his ground as the duo squared up to one another as the tension is the arena went sky high, but they wouldn't get it all their own way. Lowell Dot Com quickly hit Jacobs from behind as he tumbled into the corner, as Longshot pushed Osyrus into the opposite corner.

They both whipped their foes into the middle of the ring.

Jacobs reversed.

As did Osyrus.

Causing a Lowell Dot Com and Longshot sandwich in the middle of the ring as they were both catapulted off one another with a very large thud. Andy Sharp gingerly got to his feet, as did K-Wolf, both of them looking at each other as far as a signal goes to attack the two former World Champions.

Both of them went of huricanrana.

K-Wolf, going for Jacobs, was caught in mid-air as her legs were wrapped around Jacobs' neck, but he quickly shimmied and maneuvered her into a position behind his head for a jackknife powerbomb.

Sharp on the other hand caught Osyrus, and spun him around...but they kept spinning, until Osyrus grabbed a hold of Sharps armpits and drove him to the mat with a tilt-a-whirl powerbomb.

1:49

Jacobs and Osyrus looked around, seeing Avalon and Flawless still on the mat, they both turned their attention to one another...

"Ring is all ours Jacobs..."

3...

"What the fuck now?"

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"I'm Just a Teenage Dirtbag' by Wheetus/

theLOSER

Without looking, theLoser raced towards the ring, but every fan on the ring side shouted at him...but he couldn't hear them. They were shouting to the message, "don't go in there," but he did..

theLoser slid into the ring and then opened his eyes, waiting to be hit by someone or something, because in all of his time here in ACW, that's how it usually went.

Instead of being hit, theLoser peered into two sets of eyes.

One of them Vince Jacobs.

One of them Osyrus.

Neither man was happy at being interrupted by such a waste of space.

But before Jacobs or Osyrus could do anything, theLoser did it for them, jumping over the top rope and running to the back, he had eliminated himself, as Jacobs and Osyrus stared at one another.

"What a fucking loser..."

"Yeah I know."

Right hand by Osyrus on Jacobs.

Big Pop.

Right hand by Jacobs returned.

Big Pop.

The two giants began their fight.

The former champion, Osyrus kept the momentum going as he wrenched on the arm of Jacobs; by twisting inward toward the inside of the Jacobs’ elbow. And every time Vince looked in Osyrus’ direction, he would get his jaw reconstructed by a stiff left hand jab… which knocked the perspiration from Jacobs’ face. After taking about five unblocked punches; Jacobs went down to one knee as Osyrus applied more pressure. 

Vince felt out his next move… inching closer to Osyrus’ right leg; slightly touching it, before ducking under the standing arm bar. In a matter of seconds, Jacobs leapt into the air and whipped Osyrus to the canvas with an arm drag take down. 

The crowd applauded the series of moves while both men got back to their feet simultaneously. Jacobs squeezed his left hand continually to get the blood flow back as Osyrus started to crawl closer to him… reaching out to grab one of his legs, while Jacobs jumped back to avoid contact. In the center of the ring; Osyrus kneeled as he taunted SVJ to prove to him that he could keep him down… extending his arms outward, looking up into the sky. 

And the ‘Superstar’ obliged with a low drop kick aimed right at the temple. Osyrus went down quickly… SVJ pounced to keep the advantage, drilling fists of fire into his opponent’s face. Osyrus powered out of the press; rolling to his left and sprang to a vertical base… where he clothes lined SVJ to the canvas with a thud. 

Outwidth the battle of the titans, Kelly Flawless was on his feet, and fighting with Avalon as she tried to regain some respect in the ring. Two forearms to the face sent Flawless into the corner before Avalon whipped Flawless to a corner where Lowell Dot Com currently staggered around. Avalon then raced to the other side and attempted a splash, instead Flawless ducked, and as Avalon hit the turnbuckle, she was given the aid of a shove in the back by Lowell, as she toppled over and was eliminated from the match.

Lowell smiled.

"Ha."

WHACK

His head against the turnbuckle soon stopped any laughing of his, as Flawless took him by the head, and drove him into the canvas with a power slam, before clogging him with a leg drop as Flawless got up and started a small rhythm against someone, for the first major time in the match. He picked up Lowell and tossed him into the corner where he then tried to hoist Lowell over the top rope.

And as the battles raged on, another was set to enter.

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"Go now if you want it, an Otherworld awaits you!"

CHEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRR!

SEYMOUR ALMASY

This isn’t the WWE. The little man CAN prevail.

Almasy walked into the lions den, patched up with the works after the five-man elimination match in which he had escaped with one of his two title intact after a gruesome contest. As Almasy entered the ring his first obstacle was K-Wolf, who had taken a small break in the match as Jacobs had entered. K-Wolf hit Almasy with two hard kicks before whipping him against the ropes, narrowly missing Jacobs and Osyrus as they fought it out in the centre of the ring.

A missed roundhouse kicked sent K-Wolf spinning, before Almasy hit her with a spear which sent her, and K-Wolf screeching out of the ring from under the top rope as the fans cheered wildly.

But that was just the start.

Battle continued in the ring as Andy Sharp and Longshot began an exchange, starting off with right hands to one another before Sharp whipped Longshot to the corner. As Sharp moved in, he quickly lowered his head, taking Almasy's tip going for a spear in the corner...Longshot however, managed to get out of the way, jumping up, so that he was sitting on the top rope as Sharp hit the ring post.

Longshot then bent down, and took a hold of Sharps legs, leaving him in a tree of woe sort of position, as Longshot tried to position Sharp for a powerbomb, immense strength was being shown.

However, immense intellect was lacking.

Sharp, tightened his grip on Longshot, and used a huricanrana type flip to spin Longshot out to his right hand side...and with that, outside of the ring. With such a force, that K-Wolf and Almasy who were just rising to their feet took the full brunt of Longshots decent as he fell to the outside, and was eliminated from the match up.

It was easy to say that the cruiser action was indeed giving the best spots of the night so far.

With Almasy and K-Wolf out cold in the outside, Longshot on top of them and now eliminated, the in the ring action turned back to Jacobs and Osyrus, to whom now Osyrus was fraying around the top rope, as Jacobs attempted to lift and push him to elimination, but a quick thumb to the eye soon sorted that out as Jacobs loosened his grip on the man whom he retired from ACW.

As Andy Sharp got to his feet, he moved over to the corner, where Flawless was taking on Lowell Dot Com, and so, he helped, as Sharp and Flawless began to barrage LDC with shots to the temple and boots to the stomach.

And as all this went on, yet ANOTHER man was soon to enter the fray, or it might have been a women...who knows!

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Submitted for your approval. One Danger Man.

MAX DANGER

With Jessica Danger nowhere to be seen, obviously banned from ringside, the Dangerman entered the fray on his own, and looked into the ring to see Lowell Dot Com being given a severe beating...he wanted to change that, but first, he walked around the ring.

Were Seymour Almasy lay.

A kick to Almasy's face left him out cold as a calm Danger looked back into the ring, in relatively good condition given the fact he had already wrestled tonight, and also the condition of the other members of the match, Danger entered the ring.

Unknown to Flawless and Sharp, which is quite odd given the fact his music blared around the arena, neither man knew that Danger was about to come upon them, so as Danger shoved his arms through Flawless' armpits, and slammed him to the mat with a full nelson slam, Andy Sharp turned around a little surprised...even more surprised when Lowell low blowed him, and Danger shoved Sharp's face into the mat with a face buster as he was bent over.

As each fresh man entered the fray, the chances of men such as Flawless, and Sharp decreased, but they would fight on...even if they didn't want to, or physically couldn't.

Danger looked around for someone to hurt.

His calm complexion giving him quiet a nasty aura as he hit foes without remorse. he turned to the rising Osyrus, and smashed him in the jaw with a right hand, which left Osyrus staggering to the ring ropes. Dangers first reaction, was to go for the jugular, and fuck him right outside the ropes with a hard clothesline, but his wrestling brain took over.

Taking Osyrus by the legs, and judging and pushing his head onto the first rope, he guillotined the former tA star to the extent that Osyrus' head was nearly severed in half from the crap quality ring rope...as Sharp waited in the background.

1:13

As soon as Danger turned around, waiting for the next man to attack, Andy Sharp went for the jugular, running full pelt at the former Action star as he stood close to the ring ropes...but instead, the hand of Vince Jacobs pulled him by the hair, and used his momentum to catapult Sharp over the top rope.

But there was those cat like hands again...as he grabbed onto the top and managed to land, on his feet, on the ring apron.

"Hey Vince!"

Sharp jumped to the top rope, looking to springboard himself onto Jacobs, but Danger read it.

Just as Sharp's foot touched the top rope, he was instantly hit with all of Dangers power, catapulting him the opposite way to which was originally intended...and in full, Sharp went soo far.

CRASH

His body broken in half by the ringside barrier.

The #7 competitor was now out of the match, as 6 men/lady were left in the carnage, in, and outside of the ring.

With Max Danger now on the ground as Vince Jacobs had sneaked up behind him with a reverse neck breaker.

"Thanks for that..." was all he could muster as Danger lay on the ground.

And now...contestant number 18!

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"Super Bon Bon" by Soul Coughing.

WTF.

EL JANITO / fWo

One half of the infamous Mega Job, El Janito entered the the fray with a short sprint into the ring and a slide, and upon entering, there was only really one major man who was open, and that was Kelly Flawless. El Janito moved quickly to secure Flawless in the corner as he jumped up and mounted the perfect one, the crowd counting with every punch El Janito had to hit.

As Janito assaulted Flawless, Jacobs carried on where he had started on Max Danger, after blindsiding him he pushed him into the corner and thrust his broad right shoulder into Dangers ribcage, Dangers face becoming more shown to pain as the movements carried on.

Jacobs was relentless.

As he took a step back, he thrust his right hand into Dangers face and then began to "stomp a mud hole" as Danger drifted further and further down the turnbuckle with every shot to the chest from Jacobs' foot.

The crowd began to stir.

0:58

Because K-Wolf, and Seymour Almasy began to stir also. K-Wolf was now on her feet, and she helped Almasy to his, before pushing him into the ring steps just a matter of metre's away. The ringside referee's tried to stop her, but she was having none of it. Making sure Almasy was fixed on the ring steps, K-Wolf then began to walk back the way, judging a few distances in her head.

She then jumped up onto the ring apron, ran a few paces, before leaping off, drop kicking Seymour Almasy in the face, as his head rebounded back off of the steel ring steps with an enormous clang.

The crowd went nuts.

As did K-Wolf.

Celebrating with the fans...she pulled Almasy to his feet, and went for a repeat performance, instead this encore, was about to get a little hardcore. K-Wolf pulled back just enough again, and then began her assault.

WHAM

and then...

CRASH

The snarl and laugh of Vince Jacobs looked on as K-Wolf crashed into the ringside barrier, referees all over her to make sure she was all right, as Jacobs had intercepted her as she was running along the ringside, and had volleyed her into next year as he pushed her in the direction of the ring barrier.

Seymour Almasy was stirring, a red sticky mess dribbling down the back of his head as he tried to shake off the cobwebs that held him at this current time.

Osyrus now had Lowell Dot Com hanging over the top rope.

K-Wolf was almost dead on the outside.

Seymour Almasy was wondering where the fuck he was.

Vince Jacobs held Max Danger in a camel clutch.

While Kelly Flawless, Kelly Flawless was being attacked by El Janito.

How could this get anymore surreal?

Lets find out.

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"W A L K"   B Y   P A N T E R A

RVD

Wrong initials fuckhead.

Kodiak Vic Creed / fWo

Kodiak Vic Creed was in ACW, furthermore, Kodiak Vic Creed was number twenty in the End Game match up. The crowd didn't care that he was a man whom people loved to hate, it was KVC for fuck sake...the ACW fans cheered their fucking heads off!

Creedzilla walked through the curtain to an immense response, tonight he came with ring attire on, no fWo branded clothing was on his body what so ever, because tonight, KVC wasn't representing the fWo, he was representing the Main Man.

The Juggernaut got everyone in the rings attention, including Jacobs...who watched Creed coming into the ring, but didn't think much about as he went back to work on Max Danger. INFACT, as Creed entered the ring, it seemed that he was gunning for someone.

Kelly Flawless.

yes.

Mr. Perfect himself.

The Main Man pulled El Janito out of the way, and then peered down at Flawless, whom at this point thought he was dead given the beating he had taken more or less the whole night.

"Where you from son?"

Creed hauled Flawless to his feet, and tossed him across the ring like a rag doll.

"I hear you call yourself Perfect huh?"

KVC walked across the ring and no obstacles went his way, infact, most of the wrestlers in the ring were making sure they didn't cross the big mans path. He pulled Flawless to his feet once again...screaming into his face.

"Where are you from!"

...

"Anchorage."

"That's what I thought I heard."

OOOFFF

A knee to Flawless' stomach left him lying in a heap in the ring, as Creed shoved his boot onto Flawless' face to make sure he seem the message.

"I might as well show you first hand what you're trying to copy Flawless."

Creedzilla then ascended the turnbuckle, as the ACW fans got out their camera.

CREEDZILLINATOR

The off the top rope, frog splash onto the fallen Flawless was the last straw, and KVC knew it as he got up. He peeled Flawless off of the canvas, as he was barely able to stand, before hoisting him up in the air in a gorilla press position.

Bench pressing him as a true sign of power, before tipping him over the top rope.

Kelly Flawless was out, and as KVC turned around, he was instantly blocked by one man...a beast of a wrestler who would no doubt me one of the favorites for the title.

El Janito.

And with that, KVC shoved El Janito into the corner and started to beat the ever living shit out of him.

On the right hand side of the ring, Osyrus and Lowell Dot Com were still tangled up, and they were only broken apart, given the fact that Seymour Almasy had once again entered the fray, and tried to actually help Osyrus push Lowell over the top rope, to which Osyrus seemed to take offense.

Two large chops to Almasy's chest left it raw as Osyrus Irish whipped Almasy against the ropes and attempted a clothesline, which missed...Almasy stopped in his tracks, turned around, booted Osyrus in the stomach and then DDT'd him into the mat.

Lowell Dot Com on the other hand, managed to wonder over to Vince Jacobs and disrupt him in his working as he was taking apart Max Danger, Lowell Dot Com, came from behind Jacobs and pulled him into the centre of the ring, yanking his hair in the process. As Danger leaned against the turnbuckle, exhausted, Lowell wrapped Jacobs into a sleeper hold, as other movement around the rang began to take centre stage.

KVC hoisted El Janito onto the top turnbuckle as he went up with him...obviously thinking that a superplex was in order, and that it was, as Janito collided with the canvas and bounced about a foot in the air such was the impact.

But then, all hell broke loose.

As Creedzilla got to his feet, he was attacked from all angles.

First up, Seymour Almasy. A boot to Creed's stomach had him hunched over and so a spinning neck breaker had Creed on the mat, and then, a forgotten entity came back to life.

K-Wolf was on the top rope.

Senton bomb.

The arena went nuts.

K-Wolf, and Seymour Almasy kicked and punched into the former fWo World Champion.

And as Creedzilla got his ass handed to him in the centre of the ring, it was time for the next man to enter.

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"I'm from New York" by Ja Rule.

Back Alley Brawler / jOlt

Jolt's BAB raced down to the ring, and it seemed his first job in the match, was to help Creedzilla. The Brawler firstly took El Janito to the side and knocked the hell out of his with some rather stiff looking right hands, Janito finished up stumped in the corner as a result.

Then he catapulted himself, rather awkwardly into Almasy, and K-Wolf, as they all landed in a heap at the top edge of the curtain, as KVC crawled to the left hand side to get a bit of a breather.

All of a sudden as this was going on, Osyrus was eliminated.

It was chaos.

The build up had been simple.

Osyrus had got up, a little groggy and had been watching the rukus with KVC, and then the Brawler entering, and without noticing, didn't see the clothesline coming that gave Max Danger the chance to eliminate him.

Osyrus was out.

And he wasn't happy.

He yanked Max Danger to the outside and slammed his spine against the ring side barrier, and then, like a little boy, he picked him up, turned him around and piled rived him into the mat!

Danger could have been dead for all we know.

Such was the spike on the piledriver, the whole arena were on their feet looking out for any movement from Danger, the person least caring was Osyrus, who began to walk back to the backstage in a huff.

In the middle of the ring, the Back Alley Brawler exchanged right hands with Almasy and K-Wolf, as they tried to subdue the new competitors given energy, it wasn't working. BAB, rather shamelessly booted Almasy in the nuts as he singled out K-Wolf, who gave him the slip from a collar and elbow tie up and bounced against the ropes.

WHAM

A knee to the face soon sorted her out.

BAB then moved over to Lowell Dot Com, who still had Jacobs in that sleeper hold in the bottom right hand side of the ring, but of course, it didn't last long as BAB broke it up with a boot to Lowell's face. At #6 in the match, Lowell had been sneaky in staying out of the way of the main conflicts, but he was soon to get him comeuppance. The BAB tossed LDC to the ropes, and narrowly missed with a swinging right hand shot, but he didn't miss this time.

As Lowell came back.

The Winston Special.

An enormous spine buster helped with the fact that the Brawler's hands were all over Lowell's chest for extra oomph...but then, something was on his back.

At 6'6, it looked like something out of a wartime fable as K-Wolf jumped on the back of the Brawler, her hands in a mild sleeper hold but it wasn't going to keep him long, as he backed her up into the corner and squashed her small frame into the turnbuckle, following up with two elbows to the face. 

The Brawler then wandered without looking...he wandered into Creed.

Creed launched a boot into his middrift, and hoisted him into the air.

And then brought him down again with a bump.

And then hoisted him into the air.

And then brought him down again with a bump.

And then hoisted him into the air.

And then brought him down again with a bump.

SHOCKWAVE

A triple powerbomb shut the Jolt star up as Creed staggered into the corner for a rest watching on as another fWo "star" took on Lowell Dot Com, in the shape of El Janito. Janito held Lowell by the hand, not like that, twisted his wrist and then done his best Undertaker impression as he jumped up onto the top rope and began to walk along, as the next man entered.

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"Super Bon Bon" by Soul Coughing.

That's right.

BEEF / fWo

Beef quickly entered the fray, and just as he got to the top of the ramp, he watched on.

Lowell Dot Com's devious mind kicked in, literally, as he booted the second ring rope, which in turn caused a shockwave of wobbliness, and in turn...cause Janito to castrate himself on the top rope, before sliding off...the wrong way.

Thing back to your favourite movie deaths.

And the young lady whom instantly mourns it...screaming at the top of her longs.

Enter Beef.

"NNNNNNNNNNNnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooo"

As El Janito slid off and fell to the outside of the ring, eliminating himself, Beef rushed to his side, to see if his tag team partner was alrite, and could still sex the ladies...while Lowell Dot Com, had a small laugh to himself, he wasn't laughing for long though as Beef entered the ring set of revenge, bustling Lowell into the corner and setting about him was the first step to that retribution.

Vince Jacobs, the vulture that he is stalked K-Wolf as she was just about to get up, and quickly issued her with a slap to the chest for good measure, to which she reacted to angrily, launching a right hand into his face, which did nothing but make him mad.

Jacobs mad = STARSTRUCK

And K-Wolf was indeed star struck as she lay half dead in the corner of the ring.

1:23

Jacobs lay against the ring ropes as he watched on, Lowell Dot Com and Beef having it on in the middle of the ring, in a truly titanic battle of the ages. It was at this point, where Seymour Almasy began to come to the forefront of the match again...because Almasy was on overdrive.

He squared up the to the Main Man with a glint in his eye, and as Creed accepted the challenge, a tie up between the two resulted in Almasy being thrown to the other side of the ring as Creed flexed his muscles.

Muscles weren't everything though.

Instead of going for the tie-up this time, Almasy went for the tree trunks of the big man, drop kicking Creeds knee causing him to the topple. Almasy then contained his assault with a various degree of downed striking moves, an elbow drop was followed by a knee drop, which was then following by a standing Moonsault.

Jacobs watched on quiet impressed.

Seymour then had the big man down long enough to set himself into a cross face, both of his hands cupped under Creedzilla's chin with the former fWo Champion having nowhere to go. Jacobs continued to watch on, in a certain amount of glee as KVC was being weakened every minute by the Final Fantasy.

Jacobs however, was soon meeting the canvas, as Max Danger whipped his feet from under him. Danger quickly entered the ring, trying to gain an advantage over the dizzy Jacobs, he pulled Jacobs to his feet, and pushed him to the ring ropes, ready to whip him to the other side, instead, he had to duck.

Duck from a flying wolf.

As Danger had dallied with Jacobs by the ropes, K-Wolf was on her feet, and a woman scorned is definitely a gruesome sight as she looked at Danger and Jacobs so close to elimination.

She went hail Mary

And ended up on the outside mats, my herself.

The countdown began.

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...

Nobody appeared, and as Duncan and Jacobs realised what happened with K-Wolf, they turned to each other.

WHACK

But didn't happen to see Seymour Almasy hit them with a split front dropkick, sending both men awfully close to the edge, but before Almasy could do anything about it, Creed pulled on his leg, and around the same time, Jacobs popped his clog with a hard shot to the face, as the tron lit up.

The tron was filled with the back of one man.

Gacy.

Now forced to retire from ACW given the effects of his match earlier on, it seemed that entry number 23 was going to be a no show as well.

BACK TO THE ACTION

It seemed that Almasy had pissed of a few people.

Jacobs, and Danger began to stick the boot in as Creed began to stir at the bottom edge of the ring, he quickly got into the mix too as the three of them began to beat down the Final Fantasy, but, Almasy would have a hero.

The Brawler was up, his rage focused on the back of Creedzilla.

He charged like a bull.

But Jacobs pulled Creed out of the way, as BAB quickly stopped himself in his tracks as he moved towards the ropes.

"Phew."

WHAM

"Too late."

Just as the Brawler had turned around Creedzilla has popped him over the top rope, as the competitors began to drop like flies in the match up, Creed turned around to see Jacobs and Danger still taking out their frustration out on Almasy, but not forgetting what had just occurred, KVC pulled Jacobs aside.

"What the hell was that?"

"What?"

"You pulled me out of the way..."

"I need you to eliminate a few guys for me, don't worry."

...

"I'm not your bitch."

Right hand shot to the face.

"I'm the Main Man, bitch."

Spinebuster on the "Superstar" which nearly sent him to hell. The two fWo superstars were somewhat closer to the pairing of friends than enemies before this, but actions taken in the match were now swinging them the other way. Seymour Almasy was now trying to get back on his feet as Max Danger continued his assault, but attention was now taken to the right side of the ring, as Beef was slowly but surely being pushed over the top rope by Lowell Dot Com.

And as the countdown began, they were getting closer to the edge.

3...

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...

No music.

Just a cool muthafucka.

ICEMAN

Similar to theLoser's entrance, the fans in the arena just kept on looking on at the ring, what was Iceman gonna do?

You mean apart from slide into the ring, dodge the traffic from Creed, Jacobs, Almasy and Danger, to take Lowell Dot Com by the arse of his pants, and toss him over the top rope?

Well, that was the plan.

Iceman pushed hard, as Beef and Lowell Dot Com fell over the top rope, but what continued this, was the fact that both, Lowell, and Beef gripped onto Iceman as they tried to save themselves from elimination. The Man Who is Cold began to slowly but surely dip over the top rope, as the culmination in such a mess finished with four feet touching the ground.

Beef was out, unlucky from the fWo star.

As was Iceman, the maker of his own doing by the end of things.

One man held on, Lowell Dot Com.

He smiled.

That was before Beef and Iceman took him by the pants, and pulled him off the ring apron.

Triple elimination.

But it didn't finish there, as the trio began a small journey of a battle that ran into the crowd and onwards, but we'd come back to that later on.

Five men left to enter, four men currently in the ring.

Danger picked a bloody Almasy to his feet and shoved him into the corner, just about the same time as Creed hit Jacobs with another enormous right hand.  Jacobs was on his knees, looking up at the main man, who could do nothing more than lean back against the ring ropes and then thrust a knee into his face leaving the "Superstar" seeing them.

Another small lull in the match up was broken as KVC then looked around his shoulder to see Seymour Almasy fighting back against Danger. As Almasy clapped Danger with a few right hands, KVC stuck his nose in, and fist as he clubbed Almasy over the back of the head as the Final Fantasy fell to his knees.

Max Danger and KVC then began to "work" together, for some reason.

Picking Almasy up, Creed gorilla pressed him, as Danger bowed in front of the former fWo Champion, so that Creed could toss Almasy on Danger's knee, as his ribs bounced Danger, before someone had had enough.

That was Jacobs.

He turned Creed around and knocked him into the ring ropes with a chop to the chest, before following up with a forearm to the face which left the Main Man very dazed in his struggle to retaliate. Creed was whipped to the other side of the ring and as he bounced back Jacobs sent a knee to his jaw, ala HHH...paying Creed back for the earlier incident.

However, as Jacobs got to his feet he was soon back off them, as Danger came from behind and squashed his spine with a German suplex which shook the rings very core.

KVC was down.

Almasy bled on the mat as he tried to gain some energy for a survival battle for the rest of the match.

Jacobs held onto his neck as he yelled at the canvas in pain.

While Max Danger got to his feet and looked at the land he now owned.

As the countdown began.

3...

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...

"Puritania" by Dimmu Borgir.

VJ.

Violence Jack

The 2004, King of the Independents was looking to further his impressive CV with an End Game win, and a Legends main event to boot. Coming out of the curtain and looking slightly bruised and sore, as did all the Five man competitors tonight, he moved onto the ramp emotionally cold as usual. He carried a light limp, favoring his left leg ever so slightly, but he made sure to try and cover it up as best he could.

As that kind of information could cause someone's elimination given the wrestling brains that were in the ring, and about to enter. VJ entered the fray and was initially greeted by Max Danger, there somewhat timid partnership drove them to the decision to not get into one another straight away, instead, VJ went for Almasy, as Danger took Jacobs into the corner and began to drive his foot down Jacobs' throat.

At this point in the match, Almasy, who was the longest serving competitor in the match by one place, couldn't give much of a fight, his body battered and bruised from an earlier match, and his head wounded due to a shot to the steel steps by K-Wolf earlier on, it was like target practice for VJ.

Right shot.

Left shot.

Right shot.

Kick to the chest, and another, and another.

Violence Jack looked cold and menacing as he began to rip apart Almasy, until Creed came into the equation again. KVC took VJ by the neck and tossed him across the ring as he began to take apart Almasy again...but that didn't please VJ.

"Hey."

WHAM

Jack drove his fist straight into Creed's mush as the two began brawling in the centre of the ring, trading punches as the noise in the arena rose. The exchanged ended in Creed driving VJ to the ring ropes, where he Irish whipped the ACW star and geared up to take his head off.

But Creed missed with the attempted clothesline/knowyourheadoffshot, which gave Violence Jack a huge chance. VJ ducked behind KVC and then hoisted him into the air...and the fans of the ACW, knew what was coming next.

R'lyeh Anthem.

On Kodiak Vic Creed.

A spiked Angle Slam which would kill lesser men, was given to KVC, as his spine clustered and fused together on impact, and his brains turned to mush as the fans watched on as KVC laid on the man lifeless for the moment in time.

Until he moved...and groaned into the mat, clenching his fists in rage, but he couldn't get up.

Not yet.

Violence Jack was up though as noise from inside the crowd began to get louder, as Lowell Dot Com, Beef and the Iceman were still going at it in the crowd, as they slowly but surely traveled to the back, as LDC battled Beef with Iceman slowly cuming up his rear ;)...yeah.

BACK TO THE RING.

At this moment in time, Max Danger had Vince Jacobs right where he wanted him, i.e. the end of his boot, and Jacobs wasn't doing fuck all about it, so when Violence Jack entered the fray also, Jacobs was indeed, fucked, but instead of joining up, both men, Danger and VJ, instantly locked up and began to tussle it out.

A few reversals later, Max Danger was behind VJ, his grip tight on his wrist as he pushed him into the corner, where no referee could be found to break the hold, instead, Danger took VJs head and belted it off the turnbuckle, before releasing a sharp elbow on VJ which sent him wandering into the middle of the ring.

Danger took him out with a bulldog.

Before the next count started.

3...

2...

1...

...

...

...

"Dirty Window" by Metallica.

The ARENA got on it's feet.

K  H  R  I  S  T  A  I  N      K  E  L  L  E  R

The new, ACW Champion entered the rampway with a microphone in hand, and the Championship belt in the other as the fans began to cheer/jeer the man people loved and hated in ACW.

"It seems, the ACW staff could only manage to pull out thirty names, with me and old boy Jacobs included, whom I see is still in the ring over there...so yeah, looks like I can win a shot at my own title."

Keller smiled.

"That would be good."

Keller however, wasn't in his wrestling gear, jeans, converse trainers and a black hooded top wasn't exactly the guy on gear wrestlers wore in such a high tension affair, and given the fact that Keller was nor going to the ring, nor moving from the spot he was in, gave an indication that he was going to be standing around at ringside for a while...as long as he could help it.

Inside the ring, KVC began to stir as he sat against the ring ropes, watching the action, as Max Danger took Violence Jack apart in the corner. Vince Jacobs was also stirring, with Seymour Almasy looking on in dismay.

Creed though, was the first to move...and he did so, with renewed vigor.

Creed got to his feet and attacked Max Danger, and axe handle to the back sent him hovering over the fallen VJ, before Creed pulled him back and tossed him against the ring ropes, and he came back with such force that KVC didn't have to put much into the swinging power slam which then occurred.

Almasy then gave it a try, drop kicking him in the back and sending KVC into the corner, but that didn't do much...as the last strands of steroid pumped through KVCs veins, as he blocked on oncoming punch, booted Almasy in the stomach before picking him up, and tossing him to the mat like a sac of shit with a fall away powerbomb.

As this was going on, a referee took a short stroll up the ramp towards, Keller, and was soon rolling back down as Keller knocked his socks off about coming into the match.

Keller didn't want to wrestle.

Simple as.

Kodiak Vic Creed, did.

Simple as.

Violence Jack was next, KVC hooked him up too, a brain buster was his punishment for being within touching distance of the former fWo Champion...and the only man left in the ring, alive, was Vince Jacobs. Vince though, had other people on his mind.

People on the ramp with his title kinda people.

Keller waved, and as Jacobs tried to step out of the ring, Creed grabbed him by the hair and yanked him into the middle of the ring, using his momentum to help ease him in the air.

POWER TRIP.

A gorilla press into a spiked, high angle DDT was surely the last straw for the roster mate of KVC...as Jacobs lay, lifeless in the middle of the mat, as Creed slumped in the corner, the comedown from his steroid rush was burning away at him now, he was going to have to run on what he had left.

And then the next man came.

3...

2...

1...

...

"Dead Skin Mash" by Slayer

HORANCE TULLY

Tully ran into the ring, showing off all his energy, not even giving a notice to Keller as he stood in the middle of the rampway. He took it to the only man whom was still standing, KVC, as they both exchanged punches in the centre of the ring before Tully whipped himself, and hit KVC with a lariat as the ring bounced.

Tully then got to his feet to a large amount of noise.

He turned around to see Almasy's chest smash into his face, before Almasy got to his feet again, and rolled Tully up.

CHRONO CROSS

The half Boston crab put Tully in so much pain, he went reaching for the ropes, but that my friend would have been a waste of time given the current match that he was in.

KVC was also up, and on passing rattled Tully in the face with a boot as he moved on to other pastures.

Violence Jack was pulled to his feet as KVC tried to conjure something, all he could come up with after long thinking was a release German suplex, until Max Danger got to his feet and started to attack KVC from the back, his last and final shot leaving KVC close to the ropes.

And with all his might, Max pushed.

And with all his strength, Creed grabbed on.

The two men now sat in a pendulum, which could swing either way as Danger was now hanging more over the top rope than on the canvas, with Creed more or less touching the ring apron, but not being able to plant a foot on it...his hawk eyes soon spotted the incoming danger...literally as he let go.

...

BANG

Danger hit the ground, as KVC quickly slid back up the ring ropes.

Seymour Almasy, got to his feet.

He had eliminated Danger with a springboard dropkick to the back of the head, which was intended to take both men out, but KVC had survived, as Max Danger cursed his luck on the mat, beating the plastic beneath him. Almasy slicked his hair back and stomped into KVC, who didn't care, he was just pleased to still be in the match.

Almasy let KVC get to his feet though.

JECHT SHOT

He was soon back on the mat.

As Almasy caught the tron counting down again.

3...

2...

1..

"Can't you hear me Knockin"  by the Rolling Stones.

CRAIG MILES / fWo

Fans cheered, fans booed, but everyone made noise.

Noise that could only be rivaled with two others for the night, Creed and Keller.

Craig Miles...well, he just listened and smoked a cigarette as calm as you like, strolling down to the ring, and stopping at Keller's feet.

"So...when you thinking of joining us then?"

"How about, whenever you suck the nut from a gorillia, and make a new type of ice cream from it?"

Miles pondered.

"Ok."

Finishing the last drag from his fag, he flicked it into the crowd and then entered the ring as Keller watched on, with only two men still to enter the match, he was more or less looking at the men who were gunning for his newly sat on throne...his arse cheeks hadn't even moulded the seat yet, and matches were being booked to dethrone him.

Typical.

Craig Miles took Almasy from behind and suplexed him onto the mat after a few quick chops and right hands. He then quickened the pace as he took down VJ with a double legged takedown before pulling Creedzilla over for a reverse neckbreaker.

It was all good at this point.

Horance Tully then moved onto Almasy, who had had him in that fucking leg lock for ages...the prick, so he was given a boot to the balls for good measure, before Tully moved onto more proper wrestling moves, like an STF.

But that was broken up soon after Miles broke it up with a dropkick.

As Violence Jack and KVC then tangled with one another, after both getting up around the same point, Miles went back to the original, in Almasy, who was on the mat at this point, a baseball slide dropkick soon moved him back a few inches.

The only man free, and on his feet was Jacobs.

Which gave Keller, his chance.

Keller bolted into the ring, lighting speed like, and slide under the ropes.

Jacobs seem him.

"Come and get me fuckhead."

And then he proceeded to use the second rope turnbuckle as a springboard, as he jumped over the top rope and eliminated himself from the match all together.

Jacobs ran...

SCREECH

If it was a cartoon, dust would be all over the ring...Coyote style.

Jacobs was smarter than that.

WHACK.

Or so he thought.

Jacobs tumbled over the top rope and smashed his head against the ring apron as he was eliminated, it was truley and nasty fall.

All the better

Kodiak Vic Creed looked down at his fallen victim, and gave himself a mental pat on the back.

Keller then moved quickly, watching KVC...he pulled a chair from the ringside, and tossed it into the ring.

A perfect shot.

As Craig Miles caught it.

"Eliminate that fucker!"

The King of the Blindside Chairshot complied.

RATTLE

A sickening thud could be heard all over the arena, as like a falling tree, and in somewhat slow motion, Kodiak Vic Creed tumbled over the top rope, and landed directly onto Vince Jacobs, as Miles admired the new shape of the chair with glee.

Speaking of glee, Keller was happy.

If there was anyone he'd not want to fight for his title...it would have been Kodiak Vic Creed.

#30 a close second.

Miles turned around, as Almasy booted the steel chair directly into his face, causing his nose to burst on impact, but Almasy wasn't up for long as Tully blindsided him also as he was shoved into the corner with an awkward landing.

NEW MAN TIME

3...

2...

1...

The penultimate contestant.

"Dark Angel" by VNV Nation

ROOK BLACK

The former tSC World Champion then entered the fray, brushing shoulders with the current World Champion as he went back to the top of the ramp, to watch the rest of the match up and nothing more...as he was now eliminated. Rook Black entered the ring and was quickly introduced to Violence Jack, who had taken a small breather since the KVC nonsense.

He attacked Rook but was only given the reaction of a fresh competitor...one of which got him his ass kicked. Black chopped VJ into the corner of the ring before catapulting him into the other corner. Rook then sprinted up beside him man, and jumped on his chest, flipping him with a monkey flip into the centre of the ring.

VJ was quickly up though, his back stinging and his face like he was heading a swarm of bees.

WHAM

Super kick from Rook Black almost knocked him off his feet.

Horance Tully then decided to get in on the action, as he waited his time, another super kick from Black meant that Violence Jack hovered awfully close to the ropes.

Generic elimination #100 was coming up (I'm running out of creative ideas guys, wanna keep some good ones for the end) and so as Tully charged, Rook leapfrogged which meant a collision.

As Tully clothesline Violence Jack over the top rope.

Just as good he thought.

Until Rook Black clothes lined him over the top rope.

DOUBLE ELIMINATION

The magical Final Four where known, but only three were in the ring.

Well, by now you were probably getting sick of him, given this was going to be his third appearance in the show, but who cares right? Anyway, fighting was still going on in the ring.

Outside of it, KVC and Jacobs were battling up the ramp, given the fact that they were both pissed that they were put out of the match, directly and indirectly by Khristain Keller, little help from Craig Miles.

Speaking of Miles, as Rook Black was admiring his handy work with VJ and Tully, Miles low blowed him from behind and squatted in his face for good measure, while Almasy watched on in the corner...looking for some final reserves on energy.

And they were needed.

As he was about to come early.

3...

2...

1...

“Sympathy for the Devil” by the Rolling Stones began to kick in.

MUTHAFUCKINGNUMBERTHIRTYBITCHESSOARESTILLREADINGALLTHIS?

ALIAS

The Pulp Action Hero jogged to the ring, pumped up and glee filled as a mofo after getting his daughter back earlier in the night, and now...a chance at another title run to finish the night off.

So the Final Four, are;

Craig Miles / fWo
Seymour Almasy / ACW
Rook Black / tSC
Alias / ACW

All four men would be gifted with a title match, but for which title depended on the next few moments, and their order of elimination, here's Penny to show you how it works.

Once down to the last four participants in the End game match, the rules switch from a Rumble, to a four-way elimination match, remember that people, and hopefully the wrestlers do too.

Fourth Place - Scorpion Title shot
Third Place - A shot at the title in which the runner up, never chose.
Second Place - The dubious choice of either a United States Title shot, or a Television Title shot.
First Place - Show at the world title at the main event at Legends...duh.

As Alias dove into the ring, he was instantly greeted, once again, to the mug of Craig Miles, who attempted to cheap shot him as he was trying to get up, but Alias managed to get up anyway, and battled Miles in the centre of the ring, as a large voice came over the PA system in a rather menacing tone.

"E L I M I N A T I O N..."

The smart people remembered.

Now, Craig Miles was another story.

Whipping Alias against the ropes, he did not notice the fact a referee had slid into the ring on his blind side, and therefore, as he guided Alias over the top rope, and as Alias, rather roughly landed on the mat, on one and a half feet...he watched on as Miles celebrated in the middle of the ring, Almasy and Rook Black looking on.

Alias jumped in the ring.

Booted Miles' stomach.

A-BOMB

Tilt-A-Whirl Piledriver

1...

2...

3...

No...that wasn't an Irish countdown for the 31st man to enter the ring, no, that was Craig Miles, being eliminated from the END GAME match for being a dumbass.

"What the fuck?"

Miles rubbed his head as he lay in the ring, wondering what the hell was going on as the referee tried to help him up, and out of the ring at the same time.

"He was over the top?"

"Rules changed."

"What is this place smoking?"

Craig Miles - 4th Place, title shot at the Scorpion Title.

Just as Alias turned around though, Rook Black was on him.

"Hey buddy."

Gauntlet Throwdown

A choking STO left both Alias and Rook on the mat, as the referee got as close as possible to try and make the call which may eliminate the former ACW champion from the match.

Rook Black wasn't the type of guy who take people from behind...but these big a stakes, he'd do anything for a shot at the ACW world title, and the big time.

Another one of those men, was Seymour Almasy.

"HEY!"

High-Hangtime Moonsault

Almasy landed on both, Alias and Rook Black as he not only broke up the move but did a severe amount of damage to all the wrestlers in the ring, including himself. As he got to his feet, he held his ribs as he had clattered them on Rooks shoulders upon landed, but he soon scurried, as he seen his chance.

As did the fans.

Rook Black, was wide open.

For the second time in the night, Seymour Almasy jumped to the other side of the ropes, something that he would have never done 10 minutes prior, but things had now changed...and this, was once again, his moment.

ULTIMA

It was a thing of fucking beauty earlier on in the night.

It was even better this time.

And what made it better, was the state Almasy was in to perform such a move.

A springboard shooting star press had hit it's target, and luckily enough, Almasy still had enough of Rook Black to allow the referee to judge for the cover.

1...

2...

3...

Rook Black - Third Place, A shot at the title in which the runner up, never chose.

The ring was chaos.

The arena was chaos.

The show was chaos as ACW was running clearly well over it's allotted PPV time...but who cared at this point?

After what seemed an eternity, both Seymour Almasy, and Alias were on their feet...and they both knew what was at stake.

A show at the World Championship.

Main Event spot at Legends

Almasy grinned at Alias.

Both men shock hands… the crowd went wild…

Without even breaking the hand shake both men started rocking each other with blazing punches from their free hands. Finally Alias tugged Almasy towards him in an attempt to catch him with a belly-to-belly suplex, but with no such luck, as Almasy used the momentum given him to twist down and throw Alias to the ropes with a snapping armdrag. Both men popped up to their feet and Alias dusted himself off. The two warriors once again began circling each other in the middle of the ring, the crowd once again cheering both men on.

The smarter man would have said Alias being the fresher, would have been the favourite, but he wouldn't be so fresh. A match earlier in the night, plus the physical and mental endurance needed for the World Title match meant that Alias was as close to Almasy in physicality terms as one would have hoped for, for such a finale.

The two men quickly locked up in a collar-elbow tie up, and Alias, got the advantage, putting Almasy in a headlock. Seymour quickly moved his hand to show the referee he was fine, then after a few seconds, Almasy shoved Alias into the ropes. When Alias returned, Almasy quickly dropkicked Alias's in the mush, showing he still had a little bit about him to finish this match off. 

Almasy quickly grabbed Alias' leg, planning to work on it, but Alias shoved his foot into Almasy's stomach, causing him to fly into the ropes with such a high velocity, that on return, Alias flipped Almasy over him with his feet, but Almasy landed on his feet behind Alias!

Almasy brought Alias into the centre of the ring and began to batter into his legs, thinking about the end of the match which he hoped, would come as soon as possible. Booting Alias's thighs and hammies, before Alias powered out after flicking Seymour in the face with a wild swing.

Almasy then grabbed onto Alias' arm.

Alias walked around the ring as Almasy continued to apply pressure to his arm. 

Alias tried to figure out a way out of the submission hold. 

Almasy tightened his grip, and Alias, in desperation, ran up the ring ropes, then used his free hand to grab Almasy ’s head, and flying marred him to the canvas, Almasy, at this point, could only have dreamed of using that amount of energy, but, he did so in getting to his feet.

Which would turn out, to be a mistake.

Alias, now with the momentum.

Click Boom Tiger Crush

A head butt to the nose

A knee to the groin

Followed by a shotgun blast of a jumping knee strike to the forehead.

In slow motion, Almasy fell to his back, and looked at the arena lights...the blood, had now clotted in the back of his head, but that didn't stop a dull thud echoing around his cranium.

He then went into a state of abstraction from reality.

...

The crowd in the arena looked on...as Alias, turned to them and pumped his fist.

Alias, climbed the top rope...he had decided, that this, was it.

"Time to roll back the clock Chris..."

Hey, you.

Seymour looked on, his vision blurred of a small African boy, covered in a hooded silk sheet, stood in front of him, miraged by the bright arena lights that played with his pupils.

Are you gonna just sit there?

Almasy groaned.

The Tin Angel...spread his wings.

S h o o t i n g   S t a r   P r e s s 

or are you gonna move?

And as the Tin Angel fell from grace, his destination became an empty one, and his landing, was far from heavenly.

As for Seymour, suddenly his world gripped back onto speed again, as the crowd began to filter in through his ear drums, and the realization of where he was became apparent.

He looked to his right.

A broken Alias beside him.

And of such a mind, where only one thing was possible for Almasy to do with any sort of degree of execution.

The Chrono Cross

Almasy's signature, Crossed-Legs Half Boston Crab, to which he rolled up to no real resistance from Alias, yet.

Until it was locked in.

Instantly, Almasy's weak joints nearly buckled from the pressure of Alias, but he put every last ounce into it, as he wretched back with all he had and gripped on for his life...Almasy's nails digging in so tight, that they drew blood.

Alias screamed in pain...the ring ropes, too far.

Escape? No enough strength.

Maybe he'll give up?

Yes...

I'll hold on forever if I have to.

Alias struggled...but Almasy gripped with all he could, his heart pumping faster than it had ever done before, nearly bursting through his chest such was a strain it was under...as the arena went silent for the two men in the ring.

For Almasy, total darkness, his windows to the world were completely shut, he didn't want to see anything...it would use up to much energy to process such an image.

For Original Pulp...Alias eyes were fixed on everyone, and noone the pain became numbing...the feeling in his legs began to wonder, as his body shut down, and yet, his eyes were drawn to someone in the crowd, as the yelling stopped, and he looked on.

Izzy.

He peered into her eyes, before fixing his sight to her tiny mouth, as she uttered, "silly bigby."

Alias...smiled.

His face now buried into the rings canvas, it's stench immune to such nostrils.

This wasn't what he came to End Game for.

He, Chris Sheppard, had been down this road before.

A moment of clarity.

The pain was gone.

As was the crowd.

The ring, empty.

And all that stood in front of him, an empty arena of red seats, but one small girl.

His reason.

...

"I quit..."

The chiming bell sang, as the arena raised the roof.

Almasy, fell to the mat...every molecule of energy was sapped from his body, every tendon and atom in his body ached...his mind unable to compute what had just happened.

Alias, turned around and lay on his back, wiping the sweat from his brow and rubbing his calfs of blood, he pondered...and then smiled once again, as he turned to his right to see the victor.

They shared a moment.

Alias laughed, breathing heavily...

"...you'll make some champion.."

Using every ounce of lifeblood in him, he smiled.

"...thanks..." 

As the referee picked Almasy to his feet, he looked down at Alias who winked back at him...as Alias looked to the heavens, the noise in the arena deafened him, as the fans hailed the newest successor to the throne.

Some people say that Champions are made, not born.

Tonight, Seymour Almasy was born, and made, a champion of ACW.

All he needs now...is the proof.

...

What we are is God's gift to us, but what we become, is our gift to God.

finis'

Winner > Seymour Almasy

CREDITS

Dangerously In Common
Written by Russ

Alias versus Justin Williamson
Written by Sean

Deep Breath
Written by Roland

Insurance Policy
Written by Ed

Iceman versus The Loser
Written by Roland

The Quiet Things Nobody Ever Hears...Until Now
Written by Seth

Gacy versus Oswald
Written by Joshua

Tightrope
Written by Zezu

Kelly Flawless[c] versus Sars the Clown
Written by Cimon

Preparing
Written by Ed

What Lies Ahead...
Written by Dupin

Seymour Almasy[c][c] versus Andy Sharp 
versus Lowell Dot Com versus Max Danger versus Violence Jack
Written by Seth, Devin, Sean and Dupin

The Dog of War...Is Here
Written by Seth

Next Number One Contender
Written by Dupin

'Superstar' Vince Jacobs versus Khristain Keller
Written by Ed and Russ

E N D   G A M E
Written by Zezu