Fight Night: Trial and Retribution Results!

[Vote For UWE at Wrestling R Us Top 100 EFeds]

Dark Match 1: Roy “The Messiah” vs Jix vs Michael Derksen vs Kenji Moori

Match Writer: The X

All four  start this match inside the ring.  As the bell sounds, Jix locks up right away with Roy, as Kenji and Derksen collide, each with the same idea...connecting with a double clothesline.  Jix and Roy battle for control of the lockup, with Roy getting the upper hand.  He sends Jix off the far-side rope, barely missing Kenji as he dropkicks Derksen.  As Jix comes back at Roy, Roy nails him with a clubbing right hand.  Jix hits the canvas hard and trys to shake off the blow, but doesn't get much time to recover.  Roy immediately picks up Jix and powers him back to the ground with a huge powerbomb!  Roy makes the cover...

1...
2...
KICKOUT!

Jix kicks out just before the three.  Unseen by the camera is Kenji, as he knocks Derksen out cold.  Derksen is laying in the far corner, not moving.  Kenji turns his attention to Roy.  He catches Roy from behind, and locks in a sleeper hold.  Roy is fighting it, and finally backs Kenji up to a corner, slamming him back against the turnbuckles.  Kenji breaks the hold and doubles over in the corner.  Roy stands in the center of the ring, with the other three each slumped down in a corner.

Kenji ending: Derksen gets back to his feet, but is bowled over by Roy, sending him to the outside.  Jix lunges at Roy, but is met with a hard clothesline, causing him to roll out of the ring.  It's down to just Kenji and Roy.  Kenji charges at Roy, who side steps him, locking in a rear-waist lock.  But, out of no where...it's reversed!  Ero-Guro!  Roy didn't even see it coming.  Kenji goes in for the pin...

1...
2...
3!!!

Schumacher: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner...Kenji Moori!

[Greenbean]

Dark Match 1: Roy “The Messiah” vs Jix vs Michael Derksen vs Kenji Moori

Match Writer: The X

All four  start this match inside the ring.  As the bell sounds, Jix locks up right away with Roy, as Kenji and Derksen collide, each with the same idea...connecting with a double clothesline.  Jix and Roy battle for control of the lockup, with Roy getting the upper hand.  He sends Jix off the far-side rope, barely missing Kenji as he dropkicks Derksen.  As Jix comes back at Roy, Roy nails him with a clubbing right hand.  Jix hits the canvas hard and trys to shake off the blow, but doesn't get much time to recover.  Roy immediately picks up Jix and powers him back to the ground with a huge powerbomb!  Roy makes the cover...

1...
2...
KICKOUT!

Jix kicks out just before the three.  Unseen by the camera is Kenji, as he knocks Derksen out cold.  Derksen is laying in the far corner, not moving.  Kenji turns his attention to Roy.  He catches Roy from behind, and locks in a sleeper hold.  Roy is fighting it, and finally backs Kenji up to a corner, slamming him back against the turnbuckles.  Kenji breaks the hold and doubles over in the corner.  Roy stands in the center of the ring, with the other three each slumped down in a corner.

Kenji ending: Derksen gets back to his feet, but is bowled over by Roy, sending him to the outside.  Jix lunges at Roy, but is met with a hard clothesline, causing him to roll out of the ring.  It's down to just Kenji and Roy.  Kenji charges at Roy, who side steps him, locking in a rear-waist lock.  But, out of no where...it's reversed!  Ero-Guro!  Roy didn't even see it coming.  Kenji goes in for the pin...

1...
2...
3!!!

Schumacher: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner...Kenji Moori!

[Greenbean]

Match 1: “Wolfsbane” Adam Brock vs Trace “The” Wood vs Pyronus Souria

Match Writer: The X

"Well I won't be the one left behind
You can't be king of the world
If you're Slave to the Grind

Tear down the rat racial slime
You can't be king of the world
If you're Slave to the Grind"

White pyro goes off in a row across the top of the ramp, igniting a secondary string that shoots off in gold. A third string in red goes off a few seconds after the second string. Smoke floods the top of the ramp and settles in the shape of a wolf's head, then the smoke ignites in a gout of flame. In the middle of that fire, a ramp rises up and brings someone to the top of the ramp. A spotlight shines down and reveals them to be the one and only "Wolfsbane" Adam Brock! Cheers erupt and crash around him, making him smile slightly. Hopping over the flames, he starts down the ramp, slapping hands and saluting the fans. Into the ring he goes, catapulting himself over the top rope with both hands. Scaling each turnbuckle in succession, he salutes the fans and spins around to stand in the middle of the ring and cross his arms.  He waits for the arrival of his opponents.

The lights fade to a dark red, as “Firestarter” by The Prodigy fades in, already halfway into the intro. As the intro carries on, Pyronus walks out and raises his arms to the sky with his “Rock On” hand sign on them, which cues the pyro next to him to go off. As the flames continue he walks slowly down the ramp, slightly favoring his left leg. As he reaches the ring, he walks up the stairs and along the ring apron until he reaches the near right turnbuckle, which he climbs up and stands on, still on the outside, as he holds his arms up, making the “Rock On” sign with his hands once again. He then drops into the ring, walks at a semi-quick pace and turns to the audience, holding his arms up as before while flames shoot up behind him, going left and right along the left side of the ring. Then, as his theme music fades, he leans in his corner waiting for his opponent.

"Zombie" Theme from the 1979 movie hits the PA system as Trace "The" Wood comes out from behind the curtain.  He walks down to the ring, staring at his oppenents with a cocky smirk on his face.  That is soon wiped from his face as Pyronus slingshots himself over the top rope, onto Trace before he can even make it to the ring.  The referee calls for the bell.

With the match officially under way, Pyronus picks Trace up and rolls him into the ring.  Adam Brock is right there waiting, and as Trace rolls to the middle of the ring and stands, he is slammed right back down with an anle slam from Brock.  Pyronus is back in the ring and begins to kick Trace while he's down.  It looks as though Brock and Pyronus will be teaming up for a moment, but that soon fades as Brock levels Pyronus with a hard clothesline.  He doesn't let up, as he picks Pyronus up and snaps off a swinging neckbreaker.  He goes for a quick cover.

1...
2...
SAVE BY TRACE!

Trace has recovered and makes the save at the last minute, using a double-axe to Brock's back to break up the cover.  Brock gets back up and faces off with Trace in the middle of the ring, but Trace pulls out a finger to the eye, staggering Brock for a moment.  The referee scolds Trace, but is ignored.  Trace grabs a hold of Brock's head and begins to lay in hard forearm shots to Brock's head, walking him backwards towards the corner as he hits him.  With Brock pinned in the corner, Trace begins to unleash a series of hard knife-edged chops, lighting up Brock's chest. 

Unbeknownst to Trace, Pyronus is back up now and has been biding his time.  He charges from the opposite corner and leaps into the air.  At the very last second, Trace moves out of the way, and Pyronus connects with a dropkick into Brock, who sails over the top rope and onto the floor.  Pyronus gets up and sees he's hit Brock, when he meant to hit Trace...but no matter.  Pyronus turns around to go after Trace, but is met with a boot to the gut.  Trace snaps off a suplex.  Trace stands over the fallen Pyronus, with the same arrogant smirk on his face.  He has completely forgotten about Brock, who is waiting for him to turn around...waiting on the top rope.  As Trace does turn, Brock delivers a Roadkill to Trace.

Brock gets up from hitting Trace and picks Pyronus up, hitting him with a super kick, sending Pyronus back into the corner dazed.  He moves back over to Trace and picks him up, looking to hit the Call of the Wolf, but it's reversed!  Imperfect Tense from Trace!  Cover...

1...
2...
3!!!

Here is your winner, Trace "The" Wood

[Greenbean]

Bobby: "We're getting word that there has been a disturbance in the Force."

Hugh: "Wha?"

Bobby: "The UWE Security Force, that is!"

Hugh: "Are you high?"

Bobby: "A little."

Hugh: "Okay, it looks like... yeah. We're getting it on our monitors here. There are approximately two thousand or so people outside the Golden City Arena right now, apparently a picket mob has been formed and--hold on, I'm now getting word that Tom Regen is now out in the crowd trying to get a word with the ring-leader of this..."

Bobby: "Demonstration?"

Hugh: "Yeah, sure."

The scene cuts to outside the Golden City Arena, where we see a mass of bodies dressed for the cold weather, carrying picket signs written with various phrases, most prominent being "WE WANT REAL WRESTLING", and a crowd chant to the tune of "BEAN'S-A-HAS-BEEN *clap clap, clap clap clap*". The camera pans around the sea of people, and we see interviewer Tom Regen, dressed in a finely pimped out suit, looking anxious as he stands amidst a rowdy crowd. Tom adjusts his glasses and the camera cuts to a ground-level angle, where we see Tom standing with a familiar face beside him.

Tom Regen: "Tom Regen here outside the Golden City Arena, and I'm standing here with the supposed ring-leader of this... demonstration?"

???: "Yeah, it's a demonstration."

Tom Regen: "Alright, I'm standing here with Scott Reave, supposed leader of the faction 'New Dawn'. Now, Scott, the one question on everyone's mind is this; are you and your band of mercenaries in any way affiliated with the UWE? Are you under contract?"

Scott thinks about this for a moment, before something off-camera captures his attention. He nods at someone and gives them the thumbs up before returning his attention to Tom.

Scott Reave: "The answer is simple--Tom, is it?--The answer is simple, Tom. New Dawn and its members are not, and quite possibly will never be, employees on the UWE payroll. We are men who are concerned with the state of the industry, and we are concerned with how the UWE has stagnated, refusing to pursue new avenues and open up the floodgates for anyone--small, tall, fat, skinny, ripped, lean--anyone to pursue their chance, their opportunity, to prove that they are the best at what they do."

Tom Regen: "So what you're saying is, you're not employed here?"

Scott Reave: "That's right, we are not employed by the UWE, and we don't want to be, quite frankly. The UWE has become nothing but a cesspit of despair and angst for the young generation of pro-wrestlers, and even pro-wrestling fans. It's become nothing but a shallow husk of what it used to be--hell, of what it could be. UWE is dying on its feet, Tom, and we here--The New Dawn--we're here to save it."

Tom Regen: "I see, most people in the UWE and the UWE followers wouldn't call the brutal attack you and your cohorts laid down on UWE employees last week was very, hrm, productive."

Scott Reave: "Ever since last week, Tom, rumors have been flying around about how the New Dawn is conducting its business. Rumors have been flying around about our motivations. Hell, just the other day I heard a rumor that the whole purpose of the New Dawn is to 'plant our flag and call ourselves superior' to the UWE. Those who would say such things, those who would say that The New Dawn is a cancer, that I am a scum bag, that the New Dawn is not helping the UWE and that we're only looking out for ourselves--those people are the very ones who realize what our agenda is. Those are the people who would struggle to maintain their power, to hold others back and keep the notoriety and fame that comes with being the best away from those who could challenge them. We're not demanding that equality be spread among the masses, Tom, only equal opportunity."

Tom Regen: "So what you're saying is, is that there's some kind of shadow government determining everything in the UWE?"

Scott smirks.

Scott Reave: "Of course there is, Tom. Just look at who got up-in-arms over what happened last week. Four supposed 'flash in the pan motherfuckers' took out three of the top tier players in UWE. Some of the supposed fierce and bad-ass mothers to ever step into a UWE ring--and what did we do? We made them fold like origami, Tom. The three of them had nothing on the New Dawn, and why? Because we have pure talent, and them? They just don't want the world to see just how **** talentless they truly are."

Tom Regen: "Now hold on, I seriously doubt the likes of E. E. Faulk--"

Scott Reave: "And THAT is what I'm talking about, Tom! That right there! You talk about your Faulks and your Jamie Stevens and yet you cannot seem to grasp the concept of them having betters. You cannot seem to grasp the idea that out there somewhere--hell, even in their own damn locker room--are bigger, meaner, and nastier bulldogs running around. You don't grasp it because Mr. Bean and Faulk and Jamie Stevens are propelling this propaganda machine that dictates who you should believe is the best, and who is the worst. This propaganda machine is spouting off on how E. E. Faulk is something special, when in reality he's just another dumb hick who couldn't cut it as a story teller so now he's pawning off his second-rate garbage in my sport. Then we've got Jamie Stevens who has a stick up his ass about everyone. Well, not everyone."

Tom Regen: "Please, elaborate."

Scott Reave: "Jamie Stevens... the only person he doesn't have a problem with, is a person he knows he can beat. This is a man who is so obsessed with being the best--normally not a bad thing--that he refuses to let those who could give him a run for his money, challenge him. He refuses to do it. Why should he, right? He's Jamie Stevens... but tell me something Tom, what has Jamie Stevens done to deserve the spotlight in this company? He's been around a long time, is that it?"

Tom Regen: "Actually Mr. Reave, Jamie Stevens--"

Scott Reave: "It doesn't matter. Nothing you spout off about their propaganda matters. The point of the New Dawn, the point of us even bothering to grace the UWE ring with our boots is simple. We're here to make changes. We're here to give EVERYONE in that locker room a fair shake. IF they can't cut it, fine... but they'll be able to hang their boots up every night knowing that they got their chance to shine. That's more than the UWE and the Propaganda spewing Mr. Bean has and will EVER give them. Same goes for that Angelus idiot, too."

Tom Regen: "Now hold on, Angelus is a well-respected member--"

Scott Reave: "Respected? For what? Because he's been here a long time, too? Tell me something Tom, why should I or any of my comrades respect a man like Angelus? A man who would willingly try to break another competitors arm? Why would Angelus, a supposed veteran, a supposed hero, go on a binge like that? Why would he try to cripple my good friend Scylla, when all he had to do was wrestle a match? Yet you cheer him, don't you? You cheer him on and delude yourself into thinking that he's somehow redeemable. Hell, you probably ignore his actions outright and just open that pretty mouth of yours so Bean can dump even more propaganda down your throat! You probably swallow it like a good little ****, don't you Tom?"

Tom Regen: "Sir, I deny these allegations and must say that I am beginning--"

Scott Reave: "Allegations? I did not make allegations, Tom, I spoke the TRUTH. There's a big difference, and a journalist of your integrity should know that. The Truth--that is what we're about, Tom. We're about The Truth. We're about Honour, and Respect. We're about the things that made this sport great to begin with... and then the likes of the UWE freakshow came along and shat all over it. Starting tonight, Tom, things are gonna change. You've already seen what we're capable of last week. We're going to change the UWE, and we're going to make it stick. You and all the little Sheep like you, will finally realize the lies they've been feeding you. You'll wake up, and you'll see the patterns. You'll see the bullshit for what it is; Propaganda. And you, Tom, you will thank me. You will thank the New Dawn. Now get the hell out of here."

Scott lightly pushes Tom away from him, and the crowd continues from there, pushing Toma way from them and back near the Golden City Arena. We get one last aerial shot of the massive crowd, showing their displeasure of UWE's current direction as we cut back to ringside.

[Greenbean]

Match 2: Dobby vs Effin Rox

Match Writer: Gael

A Techno remix of metallicas "Seek and Destroy" blasts over the PA system which fills the arena with hate and disgust as Connor Gael makes his way out into the arena

Gael: Cut the god damn music! You'll burn in hell for this Greenbean! You want me to be timekeeper? Well careful what you wish for! HAHAHA

Hugh: This is none other then your guest Time Keeper for tonight, Connor Gael and he's not in the best of moods tonight to say the least!

Bobby: And why would he be? General Manager Greenbean is wasting a great talent by having Gael sit on the sidelines.

Gael makes his way down to the ring with absolutely zero expression and completely ignoring the UWE fans who are showing their hate for Gael and what they view as "disrespect" towards UWE. Gael makes his way around the ring towards his chair at ringside next to Andrew Schumacher who quickly scurries away into the ring ready to announce the entrants but gael makes no eye contact with him and takes a seat. Schumacher shortly realises he forgot his microphone so he turns around only to see Connor Gael as the only man that can help him. Schumacher looks to the heavens and then gestures to Gael to thrown him a microphone, Gael stares at him blankly and begins to shake his head at schumacher

Gael: Moron...

Gael throws the microphone directly at schumachers face but he ducks causing the microphone to shatter as it lands on the ramp. Gael is now furious but walks on up to the ring with another microphone in hand and slides it under the bottom rope to schumacher who thanks Gael but Gael just looks at him in disgust before taking his seat once again and staring blankly into the abyss. The Lights begin to fade in the arena and the crowd hush wondering whats going on everyone looking around at each other as the big screen begins to freeze slowly. The fans look on intently as a crack forms in one corner and starts to grow towards the other corner as it reaches the opposite corner the ice shatters and Cold as Ice by MOP begins to ring around the arena The fans on their feet as the lights begin to raise a little but with a hint of blue about them.

Dobby steps out from the stage wearing white 3/4 length trousers and a Spanish style vest and holds his arms out aloft smiling looking really arrogant as he turns to both sides of the crowd and lets them get a good look at him before he takes a few steps foward as he does and icy fog fills the arena from the bottom of the ram and also the stage. Dobby poses more as the crowd show him what they think.

He continues as though they love him posng and posturing at every opportunity making it clear how much he loves himself as he begins to move slowly but with great purpose down the ramp sparks fall from the roof above glistening in the blue light.

A large blue spotlight shines brightly on the superstar as he reaches the ring. The light follows him up the steps as hew stands on the apron and once again gestures to the crowd with his arms aloft to a chorus of boos.

Schumacher: Ladies and Gentlemen, introducing first at 6 foot 3 inches and 230lbs, he is Lee "dobby" Dobinson!

He smiles and cimbs into the ring between the ropes. As he stand in the centre of the ring he slowly turns admiring himself and beckoning the crowd to do so as well the lights come back up and the music ends as he removes his vest and throws it to someone in the front row. Whilst Dobby stands and waits for his opponent the arena is once again appears to be losing it's lighting but in the darkness "Black Republican" by Nas begins to fill the arena, and out of the shadows as the arena lights come back on appears Effin Rocks and cheers are heard from many of the UWE fans. Effin Rocks stands on the stage with his eyes closed as a pillar of vaopour rises up around his body. After a few moments pass Effin Rocks opens his eyes and begins making his way to the ring ignoring the reaction from the fans and focusing soley on his opponent for tonight

Schumacher: And his opponent standing at 6 foot four inches and weighing in at 225lbs, Inferno!

Inferno Slides into the ring and the two men have a stare down across the ring trying to get the psychological advantage in the match. The referee calls for the bell to get things under way but Gael gets to his feet with the hammer and bell in hand staring at the referee

Gael: I'll ring it when I'm damn well ready and not a second before, you understand me?...I hate my life!

Gael turns back around and rings the bell with his back facing the referee before taking a seat and this match is underway! In the ring Dobby and Inferno circle around the ring with both men being very similar in size and as they lock up this is demonstrated in their fairly even strength but Inferno gets the advantage and throws Dobby to the floor, Inferno races up and goes for a kick to dobby's head but a quick sweep of the legs by Dobby puts Inferno on his back! Both men to their feet and Dobby ducks around behind Inferno and locks his arms in, A swift Elbow to the face by Inferno, Inferno attempts a modified one armed stunner but Dobby over powers him and turns it into a back suplex only to have Inferno flip over behind him and race to the ring ropes before coming back and meeting Dobby with a running Dropsault! Inferno stands over Dobby still expressionless as Dobby slowly gets to his feet, once there Inferno irish whips him into the corner and quickly launches himself towards Dobby with a cartwheel and hits the Tidal Krush causing Dobby to stumble around on his feet, Inferno quickly runs to the top turnbuckle whilst holding onto dobby's arm, a stiff kick to the chest sends Dobby back a few feet and Inferno jumps through the air in a seated senton type position but he's caught by Dobby who spins around and uses the momentum to turn it into a devestating sit down powerbomb! Dobby to his feet and he raises his arm into the air as if in Victory. Dobby notices the impact he made with that powerbomb and begins to ascend to the top turnbuckle! Dobby now with the 540 splash and he hits it right on the abdomen of Inferno!

Bobby: That's it right there! Dobby saw the oppurtunity to end this match and he's taken it!

Cover for the pin!
1
...........
2
..................
Kick out at 2 and a half and the crowd are astounded but they aren't the only ones! Dobby quickly rises to his knees and claims a slow count but the referee assures him there was a kickout and the decision stands. Dobby raises Inferno to his feet and with the go behind Dobby attempts a tiger suplex but Inferno blocks the hip action and begins to use some vicious headbutts to get Dobby to release him which he quickly does, the two men exchange right hands in the middle of the ring, Dobby begins to overpower and quickly gains the advantage, Dobby looks to the Crowd and smirks as if saying "you wish you were me!" Dobby now with Inferno next to the ropes climbs to the middle of the top rope and here it comes, the LeeDT! But Inferno counters with a dropkick to the top rope sending Dobby right to the outside of the ring on the hard floor below! The fans are in an uproar and begin chanting "This is Awesome!" Inferno remains down in the ring from pure exhaustion while his opponent Dobby seems lifeless on the outside of the ring showing the effects of this devestatingly physical and high impact match. The focus quickly turns to Connor Gael who is still seated at ringside but is clearly not happy with being there and frustrated by the two men being down rather then fighting in the middle of the ring. Gael can't take it anymore, so he makes his way over to Dobby and begins shouting at him to get up and poking Dobby with his boot, Gaels contact with Dobby seemingly snaps Dobby back to reality and he begins showing signs of conciousness. The referee starts to warn Gael to get away from Dobby, Gael raises his hands in the air and walks backwards towards his seat.

Hugh: Stay out of this Gael! This isn't your match!

Bobby: Oh hype down Bobby!

By this time Inferno is to his feet and spots Dobby who is now halfway up, Inferno now runs and flips over the top rope in a corkscrew motion landing right on top of Dobby and they both crash hard to the floor!

Hugh: Was that the Catch 22!?!?

Bobby: Don't be silly! No One knows what the Catch 22 is!

Inferno knows he has it in the bag and rolls Dobby into the ring, Inferno stands waiting as Dobby slowly gets to his feet! Inferno now hooks Dobby's outside arm behind his neck and around under his own chin, then quickly placing his arm around the back of Dobby before hooking the leg and hitting the Rahnei!!!!
1
..................
2
.....................
3!!!!!!!!
The match is over and the referee calls for the bell! Gael on the other hand gets to his feet and spits on the ring bell before shouting "That's for you Greenbean!" Gael walks off up the ramp with a Guinness in hand so Schumacher takes over and rings the bell to signal the end of a great match!

Schumacher: Ladies and Gentlemen, here is your winner, Infernooooo!!!

The referee raises Infernos arm In Victory and the show goes to a commercial break!

[Greenbean]

UWE **** Championship Match
Match 3: Kris Destiny(c) vs The X

Match Writer: Angelus

The camera cuts to Kris Destiny backstage on his way to the ring.  He pulls his left elbow pad a little tighter and slaps his elbow, then knocks on the **** title around his waist.  As Kris turns the corner, Courtney is there waiting for him to get a quick interview.

Courtney:
Kris!  Kris!  Got a second?

Kris:
Not reSHIT! 

Courtney scrambles out of the way as she turns just in time to see X come charging Kris!  X wraps a silver platter over Kris’s head like it’s nothing, making Kris fall to the ground.  X tosses the platter aside, and shortly after a ref comes into the scene.  X walks around Destiny for a moment, throwing a kick here and there before he finally grabs Kris and stands him up.  “You want some more, Champ?  DO YA!?!”  X screams!  He grabs the **** belt and rips it from Kris’s waist before sending Kris head first into the wall, knocking a good sized hole in it as well. X steps over the dazed and beaten down Kris Destiny, and then smiles at him.  Once again he reaches down and stands Kris up, and when he goes to smash Kris’ head into the wall again, Kris counters and sends X into the wall.  X bounces off and turns around to walk right into the closed fists of Kris Destiny! Destiny gives X some of his best shots but X begins throwing back!  The two are now slugging it out as they make their way to the ring.

Bobby: Holy crap!  They’re gonna come spillin’ out here any second now! 

Hugh: This may be a brutal match tonight Bobby.  But how much can Kris take with that hole in his back?

Bobby: Oh it’s gonna take it’s toll alright.  Hey, wait! 

Kris tackles X through the curtain, delivering a flurry of punches in the process until X grabs Kris and head butts him!  Kris stumbles off, giving X time to get up and take control.  X comes at Destiny who manages to throw an elbow just in time!  He stands up and grabs X, going for the ddt on the stage-BUT X shoves him away!  X charges and hits with a hard clothesline, almost taking Destiny’s head right off!  But wait!  X has a look in his eye.  The fans catch it.  The adrenalin begins pumping as X looks at Destiny, and then off the stage.  He grabs Kris Destiny up and walks him over to the edge of the stage.  X then scoops him up...

Hugh: OH GOD NO! 

Bobby: there’s no way he’ll...

Destiny slides off of X’s back just in time!  X quickly turns arouSUPERKICK!  Kris super kick’s X right off the stage and sends the body of X crashing into the stage equipment below!  The fans are shocked!  The ref doesn’t know what to do!  Staff members run to check on X before calling for paramedics.  The ref calls for the bell and hands the belt to Kris Destiny, who nearly collapses on stage.  The camera then zooms in on his back where Kris is losing a lot of blood.

Bobby: I can’t believe my eyes Huey!  What just happened? 

Hugh: I don’t know Bobby, but I hope Kris and X are okay.  Wow, did you see the fall X took?  I don’t think I’ve seen anything like here before in UWE. 

Bobby: One thing’s for sure, we haven’t seen the last of these two men.  I’m sure we’ll see them back in action to finish what the started once they’ve both recovered from tonight.

[Greenbean]

It's party time!

[Greenbean]

Match 4: Riddick Andrews vs ‘The Masked Man’

Match Writer: ? ? ?

Exile by SoilWork hits and the crowds stir... As the song hits crescendo, Riddick Andrews walks out through the Curtain. His eyes are fixed on the ring and strides towards it muttering under his breath. He climbs up onto the apron and lifts the symbol hanging from a chain around his neck to his mouth and kisses it. He steps through the ropes and stares at the maskes man standing there with his hands behind his back.

Hugh: The masked man looks as cool as the other side of the pillow as Riddick begins to jaw with him.

Bobby: He doesn't seemed phased at all that Riddick is right there, What is he doing?

Hugh: Wow there is no more talking, Riddick just nailed the Riddicule on the masked man and dropped him in the middle of the ring.

Bobby: The ref is making the count 1...2....and 3

Hugh: Here is the winner of the Match Riddick Andrews, And he is asking for a mic.

Riddick: Well I can tell the world that I have figured out who the masked man is....

Riddick rips of the mask revealing a devasted Tom Regen laid out in the middle of the ring

Bobby: Wait that is not a wrestler, what is going on?

Voice from Titantron: Riddick did you think it was going to be that easy to unmask me? I do not think so, but here is an offer I have for you. Next week lets play a game of faith my son. Lets team up and take on who ever GB will put in front of us. Give you answer to Bean and either way I will see you next week.

Bobby: This man is playing games with Riddick and I can not wait to see what happens next week.

[Greenbean]

Match 5: Scylla vs Aftermath w/Onslaught

Match Writer: Scylla

Dr. Dre's voice rings out saying, "This is the millenium of Aftermath!" A loud pyrotechnic burst of orange light shoots up from the stage.

"#1" by Nelly hits the speakers as the lights go dim. An orange shower of sparks cascade down from above the entranceway. Aftermath hits the stage as the first verse of the song kicks in. Glad-handing the fans, he makes his way down to the ring, followed by Onslaught. When he gets close, he runs, jumps up to the ring apron and then pops over the top rope via a forward flip. He rolls through, stands in the middle of the ring, and acknowledges the entire crowd. Onslaught walks over to Aftermath’s corner and the two await his opponent.

The lights flicker frantically before going completely out. It is silent for a moment, until words echo throughout the arena:

                                      "SINNERS....They're all sinners....they're all going to the painful, everlasting, FIREY HELL."

            "Them Bones" by Alice in Chains blasts through the speakers, and a shower of sparks fly from underneath the Tron as Scylla walks into view. She turns her head slowly from left to right, waiting patiently until Randal Williams comes out next to her.

            Both wrestlers make their way down the ramp, Scylla staring intently at ring. The redhead doesn't bother using the stairs; she climbs underneath the bottom rope and then onto the mat. She stands in the center of the ring and points at Randal Williams, saying something to him in a scolding manner. He holds his hands up in defense as he backs away to her corner.

Bobby: Who’s that guy with Scylla?

Hugh: Well, since X couldn’t be here, I suppose she got another wrestler instead. I’d want to keep the match even when I’m facing up against Wave of Destruction, especially since they believe Scylla cheated last week.

Bobby:  But who is he?

Hugh: He’s a new signee; Randal Williams. He made a threat to X a few weeks ago. I guess Scylla has two suitors now.

Bobby: Eh, comes with the territory of being the only woman in UWE. Too bad she doesn’t put out. I wonder if Kris Destiny and Randal know this…


Both wrestlers rush each other and lock in the middle of the ring the moment the bell sounds. Aftermath, being the bigger of the two, gets the advantage and starts to pull Scylla in to a DDT. She quickly slides out of his grasp and moves partially underneath him. The attempt proves to be a very bad idea as AM suddenly buckles his knees and drops on top of her. He grabs her legs and pulls her in to a Boston Crab, only moments after the match has started! Being as flexible as she is, the pulling on her limbs doesn’t seem to bother her as much as it should. She winces and growls, but manages to hook her ankles, wrapping her feet around his head, and then straighten her legs fast enough to force Aftermath’s face straight in to the mat. She quickly rolls him over and attempts a quick pin, but obviously AM kicks out before the ref’s hand can get to one. Scylla gets off of him and gives one of her legs a slight massage. She looks down at Aftermath as he sits up and holds his nose. As he stands up, she jumps to the ropes and hits him with a lionsault. He’s back down, but only for a few moments. Scylla comes back at him from behind with a dropkick to the small of his back, bringing him to his knees. As he staggers to catch his breath, Scylla takes a seat on him, snatches his arms, and forces him in to a surfboard stretch!

He shouts out in pain as Onslaught rushes to the side of the ropes he’s facing and starts to talk him through the hold, effectively distracting him from the pain his opponent’s causing. Scylla pulls as hard as she can, until suddenly one of her hands slips and Aftermath’s free to grab the ropes. Scylla gets off of him and starts to pace, shaking her arms as she turns back to Aftermath. He grabs her by the wrist and whips her in the ropes. When she bounces back he hits her with a bodyslam! She stumbles up, and Aftermath is behind her straight away. He wraps one arm around her torso, using his free arm to hoist her up by the knees and flings her backwards, hooking her in to a leg lift backdrop. Aftermath immediately gets back up, waiting for Scylla to do the same. As she does, he rams her in to a corner post. Knocking the wind out of her, AM picks her up and pulls her in to a German Suplex. As Scylla lies on the mat in pain AM climbs to the top ropes and flips back, aiming a moonsault at his opponent. In the last moment, Scylla rolls away, causing AM to bounce off the mat.

Hugh: Aftermath obviously has the advantage tonight.

Bobby: Scylla is very strong, but Aftermath is pumped!

The two wrestlers regain their strength. Scylla uses the middle rope to pull herself up, as Onslaught starts slamming his hands against the mat to snap Aftermath back to reality. He shakes the dizziness out of his head, rushing back at Scylla. He hooks his arms around hers and applies a standing full Nelson! Although he’s taller than her, it’s not by much and she’s still able to plant her feet on the ground. He twists her slightly to excruciate the pain of the hold, which can’t be seen on Scylla’s face since her head’s pushed forward and her hair’s in the way. Randal starts to shout at her from the corner, egging her on to not pass out. Scylla’s legs, however, buckle. Aftermath notices this and gets down on one knee. The referee takes hold of Scylla’s wrist when he realizes her arms are going limp as well. He lifts it up, but Scylla suddenly whacks his hand away, making Aftermath decide to apply more pressure. Her fists clench, and she forces herself to get on both knees, then on both feet. Aftermath’s eyes go wide as Scylla arches her back, and then flips him in to a snapmare! She runs to the rope, bounces back, and dropkicks him in the back of the head. AM lurches forward and trips the ref, who tumbles forward and hits the side of his head on a corner post. Being a bit of a pansy ref, he curls up in the corner. The move seems to take up the rest of the strength that he previously squeezed out of her, as she slowly rolls to her stomach and tries to get to her knees. She slides out of the ring to take a breather, and Onslaught goes over to her, making her quickly get back in. Aftermath charges her and she immediately tumbles back out. Onslaught seems to start to stalk her.

Hugh: Onslaught is not wanting her to get any extra time.

Bobby: Well, Scylla cheated to gain the win against them last week. It’s payback.

Hugh: I already told you, she didn’t cheat; X did indeed tag her in!

Scylla seems to have had it with Onslaught not giving her a break, so she gives him a kick in the shin. This obviously frustrates Onslaught, who did his best not to physically provoke her. She pulls her eye patch off and sends an uppercut to his chin. Now he’s angry. He grabs Scylla and picks her up, looking to just put her back in the ring. When he looks up, he sees Randal Williams spear him in to the railing separating the fans from the wrestlers. Scylla gets up and frowns at Randal, but starts to climb in to the ring, deciding it’s safer to avoid Onslaught when he comes to. Aftermath immediately comes after her, knocking her back out of the ring with a spinning heel kick! He gives her a chance to come back without him attacking as he backs in to the middle of the ring and holds his arms out. The fans instantaneously cheer, although it is mixed with the Scylla fans booing him. Scylla uses the commentator’s table to drag herself up. She looks to the men, and from their headphones, you can here her go “Christ!” in an exasperated tone of voice. She looks back to the ring where the referee is up and counting to 10. She quickly baseball slides back in to the ring, where Aftermath awaits.

Scylla stands back up and both competitors stare at each other.  Both look for a tie-up in the center of the ring, but at the last second Aftermath side-steps Scylla and brings a knee up into her gut, causing her to flip over to the mat.  Aftermath reaches down and pulls her to her feet again, but sends her right back down with a hard right hand.

Bobby: What a shot!  It looks like Aftermath is just toying with her now.

Hugh: This definitely doesn't look good for Scylla.

Bobby: Maybe now she wishes X was out here.

Hugh: No, you and I both know she would never take an assist knowingly.

Bobby: Who's to say she's gotta know?

Hugh: Shut up bobby.  Look at that, a reversal!

In the ring, Aftermath was setting up for a German suplex, but it was reversed by Scylla!  She lands a few hard shots into Aftermath, followed up with a huge upper-cut that sends him staggering backwards.  As he rebounds and steps back towards the center of the ring, Scylla hooks him in and sends him over in a perfectly executed brain buster!  Aftermath is down, holding the back of his head as Scylla is still down on the mat as well.  She is feeling the effects of such a high paced match with little to no breathing room.  Slowly though, she starts to turn and eventually gets back to her feet.  But she's not alone, Aftermath is back up as well, meeting Scylla as she turns with a huge super kick!  Scylla goes down hard.

Bobby: This could be the beginning of the end!

Hugh: For her sake, Scylla had better find a way to shake those cobwebs or this one is over folks.

Scylla manages to get to her knees, but by this time Aftermath has slowly but surely climbed to the top ropes.

Hugh: He’s going to attempt The Atonement.

Bobby: Using Scylla’s own move against her, now THAT is payback!

He stands up on the highest turnbuckle, and then perches until Scylla finally gets to her feet. Waiting a minute or two as she backs up, Aftermath jumps in to the air, but at the last moment she spins around and roundhouse kicks him in the head! He falls back against the turnbuckle, holding the side where her boot connected with his cranium. Scylla doesn’t hesitate as she rushes over, hooks him in, and finishes with a rolling Fisherman Suplex to the middle of the ring! She bridges to gain more leverage, and the ref goes for the pin!

1…

2…

3!!!!

Schumacher: Here is your winner, Scylla!

[Greenbean]

UWE **** Championship Match
Match 3: Kris Destiny(c) vs The X – Part 2

Match Writer: Angelus

UWE comes back as EMT’s are helping the **** champion to the back for medical assistance.  Kris doesn’t look too well at the moment.  Suddenly, a staff member runs up to them yelling “they lost em!”  Kris looks up, confused for a moment before he see’s the look in the eyes of the staff member.  Kris ducks as X comes piling into the EMT’s from behind.  X then turns around but Kris catches him, cracking him in the jaw and kneeing him in the ribs before bouncing his head off a luggage unit.  X’s attire is in rags from earlier, and Kris is still bleeding immensely.   Once again, a ref comes into the scene.  Kris quickly takes his **** title and raises it up as he smashes it into the face of X!  X is floored and cut above his right brow from the shot.  Kris taunts him to get up and fight but X is in a dazed world right now.  Kris throws down the belt and grabs X up, walking him down the hall and bouncing his head off the wall as they go.  They’re near the ladies room now, and that’s when the door comes flying open as a female staff worker is exiting.  The door slams Kris in the face, and it doesn’t take X long to capitalize.  He grabs Kris and spins him around the door, sending him running into the ladies room and head first into a stall.  Kris hits so hard he actually goes THROUGH the stall!  The echoed screams of the ladies inside can be heard as X opens the door back up and follows Kris in.  X picks up the broken stall door and slams it over Kris’ back, then he takes it and sets it up against the wall.  He goes to Kris, standing him up-Kris scoops X’s legs out from under him!  He then catapults X right through the door!  X rolls around in pain for a moment as Kris takes a moment to catch his breath.  Finally, Kris gets up and grabs X, then picks him up and slams the back of his head into a near by mirror! 

Before X can hit the ground, Kris catches him and leads him out of the bathroom.  He stands X up against the wall and turns to a janitor’s cart.  He begins hunting through, looking for a weapon.  Then he turns around with a staple gun in hand.  He presses it up to X and begins stapling him all over!  He screams with rage at him as he does so.  Kris goes to put one in his cheek and that’s when X head butts, busting Kris’s nose!  He quickly grabs Kris up and slams him on the concrete floor.  A small puddle of blood forms from Kris’s back, that’s when X grabs him up once again and this time, it’s over.  X MARKS THE SPOT!  X covers and orders the ref to count...1...2......3!!!  The ref brings the belt to a bloodied and beaten X, who barely rolls off of Kris as the cameras fade.

[Greenbean]

UWE Cruiserweight Championship Match
Match 6: Bryan Blaze(c) vs Kiezamoore vs Devon Thomas

Match Writer: Greenbean

The lights go out as dozens of strobes flash and lights become different arrays of color and begin spinning in various directions as the sirens at the beginning of Womanizer by Britney Spears begins to play.

Superstar
Where you from, how's it going?
I know you
Got a clue, what you doing?

You can play brand new to
All the other chicks out here
But I know what you are
What you are, baby

Devon now comes out from behind the curtains. Dressed in his custom vest, with embroidered initials D.T. on the back, and also accompanied by his patented white rimmed aviator sun glasses resting on his nose.

Schumacher: The following contest is a triple threat match scheduled for one fall and is for the UWE Cruiserweight Championship! Introducing first the challenger, from Abbotsford, British Colombia, Canada, weighing in at two hundred and eight pounds…”The Promise” Devon Thomas!

Devon struts onto the stage, the crowd meeting him with boos as Devon straightens both arms out absorbing in the fan's reactions.

Look at you
Gettin' more than just a re-up
Baby you
Got all the puppets with their strings up

Fakin' like a good one
But I call 'em like I see 'em
I know what you are
What you are, baby

The Promise has now made his way half down the ramp and is throwing his arms around causing the crowd to become even more rowdy. Devon walks on continuing his way to the ring steps, he hops up them one stair at a time then points out to the fans who again boo with distaste. Devon now takes a couple strides out onto the apron holding the ring ropes in one hand, while looking out into the ocean of people.

Womanizer, woman-womanizer
You're a womanizer
Oh, womanizer, oh
You're a womanizer, baby

You, you, you are
You, you, you are
Womanizer, womanizer
Womanizer

Devon now in the middle of the ring begins to spin with his arms outreached as he then falls to his knees with his head looking towards the ceiling. His music fades and the lights return to normal as he takes off his vest and glasses, handing them off to a ring assistant.

”Dream On” by Aerosmith now hits the p.a system, as the fans rise to their feet, excited to see one of the fastest rising stars in UWE, Kiezamoore Washburne.

Schumacher: And from Williamsburg, Kentucky, weighing in at one hundred and eighty five pounds…Kiezamoore Washburne!

No sign of Kiezamoore yet though as the noise quietens down in the arena. His music now fades and a couple seconds later, it plays again, but there’s still no sign of him, with Devon Thomas giggling in the ring his music again fades from the p.a system, with no sign of Kiezamoore at all.

The lights all go out simultaneously. Then, within seconds, “One Step Closer” By Linkin Park booms through the PA system. The fans erupt in anticipation of the Cruiserweight Champ, Bryan Blaze. The lights are still out, but just seconds later, three red spotlights circle around the stage and top of the ramp area.

I cannot take this anymore
I'm saying everything I've said before
All these words they make no sense
I find bliss in ignorance
Less I hear the less you'll say
But you'll find that out anyway

With that, Bryan Blaze bursts onto stage, with his UWE Cruiserweight Championship around his waist. He raises his arms up in the air, drawing a huge ovation from the crowd.

Everything you say to me
Takes me one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break
I need a little room to breathe
Cause I'm one step closer to the edge
And I'm about to break

As the lights are back, Blaze stands on stage, he goes on both knees and raises his arms once again, which triggers pyro to shoot out from the stage on both sides repeatedly.

Schumacher: And introducing, from Sydney, Nova Scotia, Canada, weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds, he is the UWE Cruiserweight Champion…Bryan Blaze!

When the pyro stops, Blaze hops to his feet and runs towards the ring, tagging hands with fans along the way, and then slides in under the bottom rope.

I find the answers aren't so clear
Wish I could find a way to disappear
All these thoughts they make no sense
I find bliss in ignorance
Nothing seems to go away
Over and over again

Blaze gets onto the second turnbuckle in each corner, going counter-clockwise around the ring. Getting to all corner, hoisting his Cruiserweight Title for the fans to see. When he gets to the last turnbuckle, he holds it up for an extra second or two…

I’m about to break!

With that lyric playing, Blaze flips backward into the center of the ring and as he does, red pyro shoot from all corners of the ring, and gold pyro from along the sides of the ring, this only lasts for a couple seconds, and now Blaze stares right at his opponent…

The ref calls for the ring bell and this match is underway. Blaze and Thomas stare at one another, Blaze looks towards the entrance ramp and Thomas shrugs his shoulders and the two come into the middle and go for a collar-and-elbow, but Devon ducks under Blaze and grabs him around the waist, Blaze then grabs Devon by the leg and pulls it from under him, dropping Devon onto his back. Both men are up quickly but this time Devon swipes Blaze’s legs from underneath him, causing Blaze to drop to his back. Blaze is back up quickly however, before Devon can do a thing Blaze is able to kip up and throw his guard up, causing Devon just to halt in his tracks as both men involve themselves in a stare-off with one another. The fans get into this, while a slight “We want Washburne” chant begins to sound out from the higher seats. Again, both superstars elect for the collar-and-elbow, but Devon drives his knee into the stomach of Blaze before Bryan can do a thing, Devon then points at his head, showing how smart he thinks he is, before locking both arms around Blaze and showing his strength by executing a belly-to-belly suplex. Devon begins to stomp away at Blaze on the mat and after a couple of hard kicks, assists Blaze in getting to his feet. Thomas then locks his arm around the neck of Blaze and throws him with another suplex, this time of the snap variety. Devon is not rushing this one, he’s thinking every move through before he does it and he brings Blaze up to his feet again, now he tries to Irish whip Blaze into the opposite turnbuckle, but Blaze reverses it and sends Devon scurrying into the turnbuckle. Blaze wastes no time at all as he comes charging in towards Devon, but this time Blaze’s momentum is used against him as Devon is able to get his feet up just in time, almost knocking a tooth or two out too. Thomas again grips Blaze around the neck, but this time he jumps onto the second turnbuckle, he leaps off with a firm hold on Blaze still, spins around…and plants Blaze with a Tornado DDT! Devon makes the first cover of the match and he even hooks the leg…

1…
..
…
2…
..
Kickout! Devon doesn’t show any frustration; he doesn’t even argue with the official, he’s right back on his feet and into his next line of attack. Devon drops a knee across the face of Blaze, who quickly clutches his face in some pain; Thomas now bounces off the ropes and comes back with an elbow drop to the chest. He quickly ups the tempo now by shooting up to the top ropes; he comes off looking for a Guillotine Leg Drop…and hits it! Devon makes another cover, again hooking the leg…

1…
..
…
2…
..
…
Kickout! Devon sits up; with a roll of the eyes and a shake of the head he’s back to his feet. Devon now grabs Blaze and Irish whips him into the ropes, he’s thinking clothesline on Blaze’s return, but Blaze has other ideas as he forward rolls just in time to avoid the contact and before Devon can turn back around, Blaze boots him hard to the back of the leg, that hard infact, it causes him to drop to one knee. Blaze sees the opportunity now and hits the ropes as fast as lightening then uses Devon’s knee to springboard towards Devon, hitting a beautiful Shining Wizard, maybe knocking Devon out cold! That seemed to have taken everything out of Blaze as he’s unable to capitalise, leaving both men laying flat on their backs on the mat.

Hugh Reynolds: Is this the turning point here? Can Blaze somehow dig deep and get back into this one?

Bobby Moroso: I ‘unno, he seems pretty beat up though, kid’s got a lot to do to win this one.

After what seems like a lifetime on the canvas, both men get up to their feet around the same time, but Devon is more aware of his surroundings and he proves that by charging at an unsuspecting Blaze, but Blaze turns round and his instant reactions pay off again as he’s able to drop toehold Devon to the mat just in time. Again Blaze struggles to get up, he now is the one who runs at Devon, Devon swings another wild clothesline, which is ducked by Blaze and as Blaze returns from the opposite ropes he flings every bit of himself at Devon with a running enziguri. Devon is down! Blaze now drops to his knees, clearly in distress and this is buying Thomas the time he needs. Blaze finally gets up, using the ropes as assistance, but it could just be a ploy as Blaze uses the ropes to springboard and connects with perfection a dropkick. Devon goes flying almost right out of the ring but he still finds the will power to get back up to his feet, he comes running at Blaze, but Blaze hits a Spinning Roundhouse Back Kick to the Gut, followed by…Blaze of Glory!! And he got all of it, Blaze makes the cover…

1…
..
…
2…
..
…
Kickout!!! Blaze thought for sure he had it then, so did the thousands of fans in attendance who were counting the three along with the ref. Blaze gets up to his feet and places his hands on his hips, wondering what form of attack to go for next. He then ventures up towards the top ropes, the thought of Third Degree rushes through his mind. Blaze stands on the top ropes, showing perfect balance as he waits for Devon Thomas to get back onto his feet. Devon finally gets up and Blaze strikes for the Third Degree…but Thomas ducks it, Blaze notices just in time and is able to manoeuvre himself so he lands on his feet, but in doing so he tweaks his left knee, giving Devon just enough time to pull back on Blaze and hit his inverted backbreaker, almost snapping Blaze in half! Devon now looks at Blaze, who’s trying desperately to get off his back. Devon takes a couple steps back, lining Blaze up for The Broken Promise, he intends to take Bryan’s head off here! Devon looks primed and ready to pounce…but out of the corner of his eyes, out of nowhere springboards…KIEZAMOORE!! Kiezamoore comes from nowhere literally flying into the camera shot, Devon turns and Kiezamoore takes him down with a flying neckbreaker, dropping Devon where he stands. The fans are on their feet, going nuts for Kiezamoore who gets a rush of adrenaline, his blood is pumping and he’s feeding off this crowd. Kiezamoore races around the ring and now comes up behind Devon Thomas, hitting The Cadillac, driving him face first into the mat!! Kiezamoore goes for the cover…

1…
..
…
2…
..
…
Kickout!! Again Devon manages to get the left shoulder up, but my God was it close!! Kiezamoore is back to his feet and encourages the crowd to make some noise, which they don’t think twice about doing for him. He now circles the ring a couple of times before stepping out of the ring, onto the ring apron. He holds the top ropes, primed and ready to strike Devon, who’s back on his feet, though on spaghetti legs as he can barely stand. Kiezamoore jumps to the top and springboards at Devon again; going for the Lambada…he hits it! Kiezamoore now has Thomas locked in the deadly guillotine choke as Devon tries frantically to escape the hold, but to no avail, he’s kicking and doing all he can, but Kiezamoore has the hold locked in good, Devon looks ready to tap out…BUT BLAZE BREAKS IT UP JUST IN TIME! Blaze hits a low dropkick right to the face of Kiezamoore, saving his Championship, which was potentially seconds away from going to Kiezamoore. Devon rolls to the corner of the ring, trying to get a breather as Kiezamoore now gets to his feet, he and Blaze are now standing, face-to-face, the fans split 50/50…and both men starts wailing away at one another, with rights after rights after rights! The fans are on their feet, this is what UWE is all about, two men putting it all in the ring and fighting their hearts out infront of Thousands! Kiezamoore is now getting the upper hand as he now Irish whips Blaze, only for it to be reversed, but now Kiezamoore returns, he hits a big flying clothesline on Blaze, taking him down, if only for a second. Both men are back up and Kiezamoore goes for another Irish whip, which is again countered by Blaze, this time as Kiezamoore returns, Blaze lowers his head, but Kiezamoore telegraphed it and puts on the breaks just in time, kicking him in the chest. Kiezamoore takes a step back before charging right at Blaze…but running right into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker from the champion, taking Kiezamoore right outta commission for now with that move. Blaze brings himself to his feet, seeing that Kiezamoore is in the perfect position for The Third Degree. Blaze heads up top once more…when a man with some sort of symbolised mask comes running down to the ring, heading towards Blaze, but before he can do anything, Blaze notices him and dives at him, hitting a big crossbody from off the top ropes! This man now rolls under the ring before Blaze can do a thing and literally five seconds later pops out at the other end of the ring, he climbs into the ring and comes running at Blaze, who’s still on the outside, going for a baseball slide…but Blaze sidesteps it and in one swift movement knocks him out cold on the floor with the Blaze of Glory!!! Blaze now crouches down, to see who the man in the mask is, he takes the mask off…it’s Connor Rodriguez! Connor has been trying to ‘end’ Blaze for a while now and has made another attempt here. Blaze looks at the mask, the fans start to make noise, from under the ring crawls another man, in exactly the same attire, and the same mask, he’s behind Blaze! Blaze doesn’t notice and slowly turns around…BEAN-UNDER!!! Blaze just got planted and is out cold right next to Connor. The man removes his mask and does indeed reveal himself to be Greenbean as he drops the mask on top of Blaze, Greenbean licks him finger and holds it high “one up” he mouths to Blaze as he makes his way to the backstage area, under a chorus of boos that seem to be getting louder as the weeks go by. Back inside the ring Kiezamoore is now on the top ropes, ready to come off at Devon Thomas with the Upstage! Devon slowly gets up and turns around, in the perfect position for Kiezamoore to pull the trigger and become Cruiserweight Champion…but Kiezamoore doesn’t do it! He’s looking past Devon, talking to someone, someone only he can see as he seems to have lost all focus on Devon! Thomas looks at him for a second, but wastes no time whatsoever in attacking Kiezamoore, who finally snaps out of his ‘trance’ but its too late as Thomas swipes his legs, causing him to crash off the top ropes. Kiezamoore tries to get up…BROKEN PROMISE! Devon connected!!! Devon Thomas covers Kiezamoore as the fans break out in boos; just a couple cheers are heard as the official counts…

1…
..
…
2…
..
…
3!

Schumacher: Here is your winner…and a NNEEEWWWW UWE Cruiserweight Champion…”The Promise” Devon Thomas!

Devon sits up onto his knees, he can’t believe it and the ref hands him the Cruiserweight Championship as his entrance music blasts onto the p.a system. Devon stares at the Championship for a second before rising to his feet and holding the title high above his head, he’s done it and he sure is celebrating! Devon continues celebrating until UWE heads to the adverts.

[Greenbean]

After the UWE Cruserweight championship match, the cameras cut backstage as Angelus is walking through the halls.  It’s very similar to last week when Angelus was jumped.  However, this week Angelus appears alert.  Tom Regen comes around the corner hoping for a quick interview but is instead met by lightning-fast punch, followed by a shove to the wall by Angelus.  Angelus appears to have had his hair cut short as well.  He looks very clean cut and...well, professional.  Angelus continues on through the back, now making his way for the curtain...

"Fortune, fame, mirror vain
Gone insane...
BUT THE MEMORY REMAINS!"

A pyro goes off on stage making the entire arena flash white for a moment.  Angelus comes walking through the clearing of the smoke, slowly pulling his sunglasses off as he steps out on stage. He stops, looking around the arena listening to the half cheers and half boos.  He then looks to the arm that was attacked last week and “brushes it off” for all those who are watching to see.  He turns and looks into a camera with a grin as he begins walking down the ramp.  Angelus high fives an occasional fan here and there on his way to the ring.  Some fans try to stay away from him due to all the rumors there are about him these days.  He suddenly jolts and slides into the ring, popping up on his feet and then standing in the center of the ring for a moment.  Schumacher hands him a mic but it isn’t for another minute or so that Angelus raises it and begins to speak.  He knows why he came out here tonight.  But he must find the right words for them first.  Once he has them, well...

Angelus:
Maybe it’s just me but...I get the feeling some of you still haven’t gotten over the whole Virus-me destroy UWE and everything you love-thing.  That’s okay.  You don’t have to like me for me to continue being successful.  I guess I’ll get to it then.  Later tonight in this very ring two men will be competing for a title that, well, it means the world to everyone when you’re in this business.  It’s a title built with the blood, sweat, and tears of it’s previous champions.  It’s a title anybody who’s anybody has held in UWE!  Ladies and Gentlemen, and for those of you too slow to catch what I’m talking about....I speak of the UWE World Heavyweight Championship. The title I never rightfully lost. It’s one year later and I’m still waiting for the opportunity I deserve!  Oh I’ve stayed busy in my time back.  But now I’ve run out of things to do and you know what? I still haven’t been given my shot.  Now...I don’t care who it is.  MDE or the E2K.  One of them is going to leave as World champ, and I’m going to challenge that person.  That person, whoever it may be, will face at Fight Night 2: Redemption!  So on one hand it could be the guy who won the belt from me a year ago, course any joe schmore could’a won it given the stipulations but that’s beside the point.  ORRRRR...Our current champ, mister E. E. Faulk and I will finally go head to head, man to man, one on one! -Angelus laughs for a moment- I like it!  How about you sweet heart?  Just picture it.  E. E. Faulk vs Angelus!  It’ll give Faulk and I time to catch up.  Maybe I could ask him how the whole Golden Age-era-goose-egg...nobody ever gave a crap about-is going.  Must really eat him up, ya know.  I mean I established Virus and got all this attention, did all these big wonderful things, and made people actually give a crap about UWE again...and Faulk tries something similar, minus the meaningful impact, and he fails.  He’s not the only one though.  Because after last week I kinda got the sense that there’s someone else trying to do what’s already been done.  They’re real masterminds compared to, you know, rocks.  I’ll tell you one thing...I don’t give a damn what you guys do to this place.  Cross me, and I’ll hunt every one of you down and nail your ass’s to the wall!

Angelus wastes no more time with trash talk or threats.  He’s said what he needed to.  He’s made his message clear.  His music hits as he lets the mic fall and turns to the ropes, leaving the ring.

[Greenbean]

UWE Intercontinental Championship Match
Match 7: James J(c) vs Dustin Simmonds – James leads 2-1

Match Writer: Kiezamoore

The lights dim down in the arena as The Soldier's Song by Demon Hunter comes over the speakers. Smoke fills the arena near the entrance ramp as the song begins, and pyro shoots off in time with the guitar riffs.  As the singer begins his first scream, there is a huge explosion on the stage, followed by the lights coming up. Dustin then rappels from the ceiling above the entrance ramp wearing black wrestling pants with an image of a wooden cross wrapped in thorns on the outside of both legs, black wrestling boots, a black t-shirt with the image of a wooden cross in front of two swords on the front and the message "SON OF HOLY WRATH" on the back in red and yellow flame-like writing, a black headband with the word "Redeemed" written across the front in red.  Upon landing he lifts his hands to the heavens, and four streams of blue flame shoot from the floor, two straight up in the air, and two criss-crossing behind him. He then turns and marches to the ring, walks up the stairs to the ring, walks to the centre of the ring and kneels in prayer.  He then rises to his feet, points to the heavens, and then looks toward entrance ramp, extends arm and makes the come-out motion with hand.

Taking You Down hits the PA system in the arena, the following lines are heard with a static sound to them

I've had enough, I'm taking you down
Taking you down

With those words, the song kicks in to full and fans rise up to their feet in the arena and begin to look at the entrance ramp.

You've been all up in my face
Out of line and out of place
Blurring views, distorting facts, every time I turn my back

James then walks out onto the stage, He is wearing the Intercontinental championship around his waist. He pats the title for the fans as he continues his way to the ring

I'll make you know your position
Don't talk, just shut up and listen
No way out, now you can't play dumb
Get up get up and come get some

(Chorus)
I've had enough, I'm taking you down
Taking you down
I've had enough, I'm taking you down
Taking you down

Andrew: Making his way to the ring, from Augusta, Georgia, weighting in tonight at 226 pounds, he is one half of the Dark City Boyz, the Intercontinental champions... James "The Krusher" Jowers.

James walks up to the top of the steps, and goes up onto the apron and hops to the second rope and bends down, only to rise back up, where he takes the Intercontinental championship off and holds it high in the air. He smiles at the fans looking on, he lays the title down on the top turnbuckle, and hops into the ring. He then walks over to the ropes, he gets up on the second rope and holds the title up once more. Most of the fans continue to cheer as he soon gets of of the ropes, and walks over into the corner, and begins flexing his hands and arms waiting on the match to start.


*Ding Ding Ding*

Reynolds: And this match is underway.
Moroso: It's a big one too. If Dustin Simmonds loses this match he'll lose in his quest for the Intercontinental Title.

Both Dustin Simmonds and James Jowers meet in the middle of the ring for a hand shake, showing each other respect. They back up to opposite ends of the ring before going back to the center of the ring for a collar elbow tie up. Simmonds gets the advantage and pulls James into a headlock. James is quick with the reversal, wringing Simmonds' arm before twisting it behind his back. Simmonds hits James with a back elbow to free his arm and follows with a standing dropkick, showing a fair amount of athleticism. James is back to his feet but down again due to a Dustin Simmonds clothesline. Dustin wastes no time laying a series of stomps to James J's chest followed by an elbow drop. James J rolls out of the ring and to his feet, taking a break on the outside. A few moments later and he's back in the ring facing off with Dustin Simmonds.

J starts it off this time with an arm drag, keeping hold of Dustin's arm for an arm lock. Dustin fights back to his feet and elbows James in the face twice, getting his arm free. Dustin runs across the ring and bounces off the ropes, only to be arm dragged again, on the same arm. James again keeps hold of his arm and this time drops a knee to his arm. James remains in possession of Dustin Simmonds' arm and executes a beautiful arm bar. Dustin tries to fight it off, but appears to be losing.

Reynolds: Could this be it?
Moroso: Not so soon. Dustin should find a way out of this one.

And Bobby Moroso is right, as Dustin begins pounding on James J's left leg with his free arm, causing him to lose some leg positioning. Simmonds is able to posture up and get back to his feet with James still holding him in an arm lock. Dustin uses his power to lift James overhead and slam him ferociously.

Reynolds: What a slam by Simmonds.
Moroso: I wonder if James is conscious...

Simmonds rises to his feet and stomps on James' left leg. It is apparently a little stiff due to the pounding it had taken earlier as James responds by grabbing his leg at the thigh. Simmonds then rolls James J over and raises his left leg high in the air before slamming it down, causing great pain to James' knee. James grabs at his leg again and Simmonds turns him over onto his back before pressing on his leg, doing a hand stand, and driving a knee into that same leg. Now Simmonds wrenches James' leg upward, causing James to flail about in pain. James lays on his back and looks ready to tap out. However, he doesn't, instead sitting up and launching punches to Dustin's right shoulder and arm, the one he's been working over during the match. Dustin finally lets go of the hold and goes to the ropes as he tries to loosen up his arm. However, he doesn't see James J creeping up behind him...or maybe he does. Simmonds explodes from the ropes with a shoulder block that knocks James off his feet. Unfortunately for Dustin, he used his right shoulder. Dustin drops to the ground and holds his shoulder in pain.

Moroso: Dustin better switch up his strategy here. James has done enough damage to that arm to almost render it useless.
Reynolds: You're right, Bobby, and that's not something I say often. Dustin seems to have done more damage to himself than to James J with that shoulder block.

It is so as Dustin is still on his knees, holding his limp shoulder and trying to work out the pain. He does not have much time, however, as James J pounces on him with a dropkick to his shoulder. James lands awkwardly on his left knee, though, and is down as well. Both men are prone on the mat, nursing their wounded body parts. Dustin Simmonds is the first to his feet, followed shortly by James J, and launches a toe kick to J's abdomen. Simmonds lifts James J in a suplex attempt but James finds a way to get back down to his feet. However, his leg gives out on his while he's still got a hold on Simmonds' head, causing him to drop Dustin with a DDT. Once again, both men are down for an extended period of time.

James J is first to his feet this time and he makes his way over to Dustin Simmonds, who is down on his knees, holding the ropes. In a flash, Simmonds turns and rises to his feet, lifting James off of his at the same time before planting him with a spinebuster. Simmonds is not done and lifts James J to his feet again before driving him, knee first, on his thigh. James falls to the ground as Dustin keeps a hold on his leg, kicking him twice in the thigh before slapping on a Figure Four Leg Lock.

Reynolds: Oh man! Figure Four!
Moroso: I don't know what the champ has left. On top of that, this is due or die for Dustin. He'd got to give it all he's got to put James J away for this match.
Reynolds: That's true, Bobby. Dustin needs this to have another match with James Jowers.
Moroso: If James doesn't tap out here, Dustin's going to lose this match.
Reynolds: And it looks like James J might be ready to tap out right now.

James J's hand is rising as he's looking ready to tap out. Instead of tapping, though, he puts that hand over his face and lays back, as he'd been sitting up, his pain revealed by his constant shouting. In a fit of desperation, James J shifts his body and tries to turn Simmonds over. Simmonds his having none of it, though, as he cranks the Figure Four for all it''s worth. James J lays flat on his back, again, his hands covering his face. They slowly begin to drop to his sides.

Moroso: James J has just passed out in that Figure Four leg lock.
Reynolds: Wow! That's amazing. James refuses to lose this match, but he might not have a choice.

The referee steps in to raise James J's hands and make sure he's incapacitated. He drops it and the hands hits the mat.

1!

Once again he raises James' hands and lets it drop. It hits the mat again with a thud.

2!

Again, he raises J's hand and let's it drop. Mere inches from the mat James' hands stops, suspended in mid air as he begins pumping his arm. The fans respond, cheering for James J as he fights to stay alive in this match. James J sits up and begins to fire off punches to Dustin Simmonds. They're coming rapid fire and, despite putting his hands up, Simmonds cannot block them, finally he is stunned enough to release the hold.

Moroso: It's over for Dustin.
Reynolds: Only if James J can stand.
Moroso: He's a champion and he just showed me that. Dustin's a great competitor, but he's not going to get back into this one.
Reynolds: I disagree. Both share a champion's heart, but Dustin needs this too much. He'll find a way.

James J crawls over to the ropes and uses them to lift himself to his feet. As he rises he is very noticeably limping. Dustin is back on his feet too and is grabbed by James J. Dustin grapples his way out of James' grasp and takes him down with a leg whip. Dustin looks around at the fans as he rises to his feet and points to the turnbuckles. The fans go wild as he ascends the turnbuckles. Dustin leaps off, trying to drop his right elbow on James J's left knee. James rolls out of the way just in time and the impact severely bothers Dustin's shoulder. Both men, once again, are down for an extended period of time. They both begin to rise around the same time and James J's leg is so obviously in pain that he is now hopping on his right leg, not putting any pressure on that left one. Dustin sees this and tries to grab James, but he is too slow. James J leaps into the air off just his right leg and, grabbing Dustin's right wrist, places his hand on Dustin's right shoulder and bends his knee before falling on his back in a move like the Codebreaker, driving his knee into Dustin's shoulder.

Reynolds: Great move by James J.
Moroso: Wow, what a move. Don't think I've seen anything like that before.

James J is quick to capitalize on the fallen Dustin Simmonds, grabbing his arm and executing a Kimura, twisting hard on Dustin's arm and causing Dustin to holler in pain. James does not relent, as he now sees a chance to end it. James cranks the move even harder, giving it all he's got as he tries to make Dustin tap out, or dislodge his arm from the socket trying. James J shouts out as he puts his all into the move, twisting Dustin's arm in a sickening fashion behind his back. Dustin shuts his eyes and clenches his teeth, shouting between them before he finally brings his hand to James J's back and taps out.

James collapses to the mat as the referee calls for the ring of the bell. James limps to his feet and retrieves his Intercontinental Title from the referee before raising it in the air triumphantly.

Reynolds: What a match from both competitors. I am very impressed with the heart shown by both competitors. However, my colleagues words proved prophetic.
Moroso: Dustin Simmonds had put everything he possibly could into that Figure Four but James J refused to tap. Great showing here by both, but James J proved to be the better man.

Schumacher: Here is your winner, and winning the series 3-1, STILL Intercontinental Champion…James J!

[Greenbean]

Bobby: “Well, this has certainly been an interesting night so far.  But the night’s not done yet.”

Hugh: “Sure ain’t.  We’ve still got a match or two left, and… hey, what’s that?”

Bobby: “It looks like one of our fans has decided to make himself famous.”

We see a sweatshirted individual walking calmly around the ring, holding a sign high over his head, reading, “GOOD RIDDANCE!”  One can only speculate to what he is referring.  Regardless, the man’s expression – while mostly hidden by the sweatshirt’s hood and the dark sunglasses he sports – belies a state of self-satisfaction.  His contented smirk broadens with the arrival of the security detail, whose job it is to “escort” him away from the ringside area.

Bobby: “We apologize for this, folks.  Live TV, though.  You never know what—”

Hugh: “Hey, hang on a second!  What’s he… ?”

As one of the security guards reaches out to grab him, the fan snatches the outstretched arm, twists it behind him in a hammerlock and uses his leverage to smash the guard’s face into the nearby ring post, knocking him out cold.  The fans gasp as the second guard’s bum-rush is dodged, and countered with a vicious kick to the testicles.  Most of the audience collectively winces as they imagine his testes falling out of his mouth from the force of the blow, à la Hot Shots! Part Deux.  The final guard unleashes a baton and swings at the fan, only for the latter to duck out of the way and kick the weapon from the guard’s hand.  The guard hits the floor to retrieve it, only to be viciously punted from the front, right up under his chin.  Needless to say, the crowd is absolutely stunned.

Bobby: “What the Hell is going on here?!  First the invaders’ attack on several UWE Superstars last week, and now this?  What is this world—”

Hugh: “I think we have our answer, Bobby!  Look who it is!”

The fan, to a chorus of boos, has taken it upon himself to enter the ring, where naturally he would be assured to be the center of attention.  He wrenches the heavy sweatshirt off his body and throws it in the corner, revealing his identity: “Deadeye” Adam Deming in all his sneering glory!  The stunned silence morphs into a rousing cry of boos as Deming demands a microphone from the timekeeper, who acquiesces rather timidly in the face of the threat of a fate similar to that of the security detail.  Speaking of which, more security task force members flood from the back to take the ring, under the direction of the General Manager himself, Greenbean.  Deming, however, stops them dead in their tracks by bringing the microphone up to his lips.

“Ah-ah-ah, boys,” he says, smirking as he waves his finger as if to scold a naughty child.  “Ask your boss there, boys,” he says, pointing at Greenbean. “I actually have a right to be here tonight.”

Bobby: “What the Hell is he talking about?”

Hugh: “I don’t know.  All I know is that he’s cramping our style!  We should be calling a match right now, not listening to some pompous invader trying to take over our turf!”

“The thing is, I have been one of Oakley, Inc.’s best customers over the years,” he explains, taking off his sunglasses and cleaning them using his black “Deadeye” T-shirt.  “And considering they’re one of this pay-per-view’s major sponsors, it was easy to negotiate some time for myself to express my thoughts here tonight.  Or would you rather their sponsorship suddenly disappear?”  Greenbean’s reddening face and violent nostril inhalations and exhalations notwithstanding, he knows Deming has a point, and begrudgingly calls off his squad.  Deming smirks.  “Thought so.  So I’m going to take the time I’ve been promised by your sponsors to make a few thoughts clear.”

“Now you look here,” Greenbean says, having gotten a hold of a microphone from one of the boys behind the Gorilla curtain.  “I may not be able to stop you from having your time, but as soon as you’re done, you’re as good as gone, you understand me, Deming?  You and all of your other little ROPE buddies… if I find them here, I’m not only having them ejected, I’m having them arrested!  You are not UWE employees, you don’t have tickets, and you don’t have any real right to be here at all other than to say your piece granted to you by Oakley, Inc.  So get on with it so these fans who paid good money to see UWE action get to see exactly that!”

Deming raises an eyebrow at the General Manager’s threats, but doesn’t seem overly worried about getting thrown out, or even arrested.  “You see, that’s the thing, though,” Deming coyly replies.  “You think you know what these fans want.  You think that you know better, just like every promoter I’ve ever worked for, or that any professional wrestler has ever worked for.  But what about us, ’Bean?  What about the people who actually break their backs working for you, putting their bodies on the line working in this crazy industry because they love it, huh?”  The gradual crescendo of his tirade catches Greenbean and pretty much everyone else in the arena off-guard, as Deming is now seething as he leans over the top rope to look the General Manager square in the eyes from across the arena.  He, too, has now started breathing heavily through his nostrils, but immediately becomes aware of it and cools himself down, running his fingers through his dark hair.  “Let me tell you a little story, Greenbean.”

Bobby: “Oh joy, story time.”

Hugh: “Shut up!  If he hears us interrupting him, we might get our asses handed to us, too!  You want to end up like Angelus?  Like Faulk?”

“This is the story of how the man who loved the professional wrestling business more than anyone else he’d ever encountered lost that love,” he begins.  There’s more than a hint of bitterness in his voice as he says these words, practically spitting out the second half of the sentence as he looks out at the fans assembled here tonight.  “Ever since I discovered professional wrestling many years ago, my life has been consumed by it,” he starts.  “I was never gifted with natural athletic ability, so I had to work twice as hard to get to where I wanted to be.  I got breaks, I went from company to company, earning six World Heavyweight Championships, earning money, earning what I thought was respect.  But nothing satisfied me,” he admits, rather disappointedly.

He pauses to look at the crowd, scanning the people as if trying to find something.  Whatever his thoughts are, whatever it is he is looking for, he quickly dismisses them with an abrupt shake of his head to go back to his story.  “ThrowDown Sports Entertainment, where I’d been for two years, had seemed to be going strong, and in what seemed like the blink of an eye, it disappeared, closing its doors forever, and leaving me out of a job.  And that’s when I found a little promotion named Ring Of Pride & Excellence,” he says with a smile that reeks of nostalgia.  “It was a little regional promotion – far below my level – but the competition there was fierce, and they had an approach to the business that I’d longed for but had never seen stateside.  They actually took wrestling seriously, imagine that.”

Greenbean’s face tells that he picks up on Deming’s insinuation.  And considering the years of effort he’s put into UWE, he doesn’t like it one bit.  To his credit, though, despite the bulging veins in his forehead that make him look like some castoff from an anime cartoon, he holds his tongue and lets Deming continue for the time being.

“I was amazed.  In the big, global promotions, all I’d ever seen was a mockery of the sport.  The sport that I love.  The sport of wrestling.  They turned it into a circus.  They brought in the rejects of society and paraded them around like some kind of freak show, building them up as if they were actually good, whereas I – my credentials notwithstanding – always took a backseat to these goons,” he spits venomously.  The funny thing is that while his speech is self-aggrandizing, he doesn’t carry himself in an arrogant manner as much as a matter-of-fact one.  He’s not appeasing himself by stroking his own ego… he actually believes himself to be the best, as if it was a matter of fact and not one of opinion.  “But in ROPE… it was different.  They were a humble regional promotion.  Sure, they had those big, global dreams – who doesn’t? – but it seemed that for the first time, I would feel at home, surrounded by peers who wanted to bring the values of actual wrestling as entertainment… no need to adorn it with face paint, or gimmicks, or crazy matches, or whatever.  The best wrestling around, nothing else needed.”

Deming’s whimsical, almost dreamy-eyed expression fades as he looks back at the stage.  His eyes settle once more on Greenbean, and all at once, as if it was ROPE’s end was somehow the General Manager’s fault, Deming points straight at him, yelling, “But just like every other promotion, as it went global, it started to buckle and eventually break under the heavy temptation of self-indulgence, and everything went straight to Hell!  The brutal **** style steadily emerged more and more, despite the promoter’s insistence that his dream was to glorify his vision of ‘pure’ wrestling.  More and more, the man fixed matches to shut out people who truly cared about wrestling in favor of his Cro-Magnon cronies who wouldn’t know what a headlock was if they were even applying it!”  The insult seems to be directed at the security detail still unconscious on the outside of the ring as a result of their attempted accost of the “Deadeye.”  “I couldn’t get out of my contract, and I couldn’t get back the World Title that I’d had stolen from me while I was there, so I settled for second-best and tried to make their Intercontinental Championship the true Title everyone would want to contend for.  I wanted to show everyone that true, pure wrestling could be enough.  And I was starting to make headway, and because the owner knew I was on the verge of succeeding, he pulled the plug on the company and ran rather than be a man and own up to the defeat that was on its way to his doorstep.

“So I was left without any reason to go on.  I was out of a job, but I didn’t need the money.  Unlike probably some of you folks, I actually saved my money instead of buying on credit and wracking up tons of debt.”  That draws the ire of the fans… with the US economy in as poor shape as it’s in right now, that one hits a little too close to home for many in attendance.  Deming either has no mercy for these people, doesn’t care what they have to say, or is simply too wrapped up in his own monologue to focus on anything other than delivering it.  Any way you slice it, though, he doesn’t react to the malicious verbal beatdown the crowd is handing him.  “I don’t need this business in my life to survive.  But I do need it in my life to feel alive.

“After ROPE closed down, I was so depressed I could barely see straight.  ‘I failed,’ I thought.  ‘I failed to save my beautiful mistress, Lady Wrestling, from the charlatan that is Sports Entertainment.’” he rancorously derides, his regret palpable in his voice.  “I’d sit at home in front of the television, trying to inundate myself with any wrestling I could find.  I soon learned, though, that in trying to drown myself in what I’d lost, I was only bombarding myself with what wrestling has slowly turned into: a festering boil on a once-great sport.  Even in Japan, where there is a longstanding tradition of keeping the sport pure, there are new promotions popping up all over the landscape that spit in the face of that nation’s great wrestling legacy.  And the more I learned this, the sicker it made me.  It was a travesty, and I couldn’t go back.  Ever.”

The crowd gets a kick out of that, and lets him know it with raucous cheers and applause.  With the way he’s been acting and what he’s been doing over the past several weeks in UWE, it seems they would have preferred if he had given up.  Obviously, though, something changed, or else he would not be in the ring with a microphone in his hand.

“I thought all hope for this business which I spent so much of my life practicing my trade in was lost.  I was going to retire,” he explains, a sunken, defeated look on his face as he recalls his recent past.  “I was going to hang up my boots once and for all in the hopes that I could move on.  It must have been fate that led me to flip through the channels that night and find Monday Night Showdown.  I was going to turn off the television in disgust when I got a phone call.  And that phone call would give me hope.  It would give me a reason to keep going.  It would make me see the light at the end of the tunnel, and that I could play a part in bringing change to this industry.  The man on the other end of the phone was…”

Hugh: “Barack Obama?”

“… Scott Reave.”

Hugh: “Oh.  My bad.”

“Now for those of you not in the know, let me explain why this is a big deal,” he says, going into condescending teacher mode.  “Scott Reave and I… traditionally did not get along.  In ROPE he did some things I disagreed with, I did some things he disagreed with… I beat him for the World Title and put him on the shelf with a broken jaw… it was messy.  Needless to say, I was surprised to get his phone call,” he chuckles.  One has to wonder just how united they are if he’s still having this kind of reaction to their tumultuous past; it could just be one of those “look-back-on-this-and-laugh” situations, but with Deming, you can never really tell.  “Seems he and a bunch of fellow ROPE castaways had been very much in the same boat after the company went under, but he wanted to do something about it.  He wanted to get the very best ROPE had to offer and unite them to try to take back this industry in the name of pride, excellence, dignity and purity of sports competition.  He wanted to take wrestling back in the name of wrestling.  All he needed to know was where we would make it happen.  I turned to the TV and knew where the New Dawn would rise: Ultimate Wrestling Entertainment.”

After yelling and screaming all night for or against their favorite and least favorite UWE Superstars, it’s a wonder any of the fans still retain their voices.  They must all be trained singers or something of that ilk.  Regardless of why, they all with full volume proceed to rip Deming to shreds with their voices.  The “Deadeye,” usually rather irritable when it comes to the crowd interrupting his speeches, merely smiles in response.  “And this is exactly what I expected.  You see, I used to blame you.  I used to,” he reiterates, holding up his hand as if to hold them off should they choose to riot like Australian Open spectators.  “I used to think that it was your poor taste that dragged my beloved sport into the mud with the circus freaks.  But the more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that you are not to blame, ladies and gentlemen.  You are not to blame for the degradation of the sport of kings.  No… people like that are to blame!” he asserts, pointing once again at the esteemed General Manager of UWE, who frowns in kind.  “People like you, Greenbean.  For years, people like you have been force-feeding the public your collective vision of sideshow entertainment.  And it’s gotten to the point where they accept that this garbage is what wrestling is, has been, and will always be about.  They’re unaware that there’s a better alternative because you don’t see fit to offer it to them.  So all in all, they’re really blameless… they simply don’t know any better.”

It is one thing to insult one’s intelligence.  Having a certain intelligence quotient is largely a matter of genetic predisposition; there’s little you can do to acquire a greater capacity to learn.  Intelligence really is something beyond one’s control.  Wisdom, however, is different.  When people belittle your personal choices is when offense is normally taken… and usually for valid reasons.  That being said, when someone insinuates that a choice you have made of your own free will was in fact the complete opposite, that is the worst insult of all.  So condescending is this idea that Greenbean senses that the fans are near riot levels of rage, and sends his security detail to line up along the security railing just in case anyone tries to charge the ring to get at the seven-time former World Heavyweight Champion.

Deming simply sighs.  “It’s okay, ladies and gentlemen, really.  I hold no ill will towards you like I had before because now I realize that it’s not your fault; you’ve been conditioned to become accustomed to slop.”  Greenbean takes personal offense to this; once again, the fact that he’s spent years building up his company is under attack.  And while he appreciates that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, this constant barrage of insults is making him more than a little testy.  Deming senses the crowd’s growing hostility and futilely tries to explain things to calm them down: “It’s like before you lose your virginity… you’re fine with kissing your boyfriend or girlfriend as long as you haven’t had sex yet… but once you finally do it, the line is crossed, and nothing else will do.  You are all pure wrestling virgins.  We know that.  But everyone has to have their cherry popped somewhere down the line… better it be done by someone who cares about you than some jerk you got drunk with at a party, right?”

“All right, Deming, I’ve heard enough!” Greenbean says, finally cutting in.  “You’ve explained your motives, you’ve explained what you want to do here, and as far as I can tell, that means your time is up.  Security!”

The crowd cheers as the entire squad surrounds the ring.  Deming remains undaunted, however, even as several of the big, burly men in orange T-shirts climb up onto the ring apron.  “Hey Greenbean!” Deming coyly shoots out at him with his trademark smirk.  “Aren’t you just dying to know how my friends and I got past these boys in the first place?”

That question seems to be on the security guards’ minds as well; they stop advancing and turn back to Greenbean in confusion.  The General Manager takes a moment to ponder the situation before bringing the stick back up to his lips.  “Normally I’d want to get you out of my ring as soon as possible,” he disclaims, “but considering how I don’t think you’re going to be going anywhere I don’t want you to go – what with security surrounding the ring and all – yes, I am fairly curious.”

“Drop all of the criminal charges you’re planning on filing for all of us, and I’ll tell you,” he wryly responds.

Greenbean rubs his chin.  He doesn’t want them to get away with anything, especially after their heinous actions last week on Showdown.  But his hubris and curiosity combine to paralyze him with dilemma.  The crowd seems similarly split; half seem to want to know the answer to how the New Dawn has been able to get away with their guerilla warfare, while the other half doesn’t care and just wants them out of the building.  Eventually, though, his curiosity gets the better of him.  “Fine.”

Deming’s mouth curls into that smirk once again.  “Done deal.  That’s a verbal contract, now, Greenbean.  Let the record show that you promised on live television that you wouldn’t press any criminal charges in return for the information you desire.  You renege, you’ll face us in court for breach of cont—”

“I get it, Deming.  I get it,” he begrudgingly interrupts.  “Now just tell me how you did it.  I have to know how morons like you were actually able to avoid my crack security staff.”

“Oh, Greenbean,” Deming amusedly sighs.  “Like any good stealthy guerilla mission, it all depends on there being someone… on the inside.”

Bobby: “On the inside?  What does he mean by—”

“SINNERS…  They’re all sinners…  They’re all going to the painful, everlasting, FIREY HELL!”

Hugh: “Oh my God!  That’s…  No, it can’t be!”

But it is.  “Them Bones” by Alice In Chains blasts through the speakers, and Evelyn “Scylla” LaRivierre walks right up next to Greenbean.  He doesn’t know how to react; his expression is one of shock, disappointment and hurt as she stares intently straight in his eyes for a few seconds before leaving him to head to the ring.  The crowd is in utter disbelief, as are the security guards… nobody would ever have expected this from Evelyn.  She climbs into the ring and stands next to her newfound ally as the latter grins broadly.

“You see?” Deming hypothetically asks as “Them Bones” fades out of aural perception.  “All it took was for someone on your payroll to open the door, and the rest was easy.”

Greenbean looks betrayed, but more saddened than anything.  “But Eve, I thought—”

“You thought wrong,” Deming callously cuts in.  “You know nothing about this woman, even after all these months that she’s been in this company.  Let me tell you something about Evelyn LaRivierre!” he says with enough gusto to force Greenbean to put his microphone down and listen in dejected, jaded distress.

“I have known Evelyn for years.  Ever since she started out in this business, in TDSE,” he recounts, his eyes never wavering from Greenbean’s direction.  “She wasn’t as seasoned then… she was a raw rookie.  She had talent, but was still learning how to harness it.  Every week she seemed to improve, but TDSE was largely a land of giants.  And just like this business had been in the years leading up to that point, when she wanted to face off against the men, nobody wanted to give her a chance.

“But all that changed when she finally got what she wanted: a chance at the Hypothermia Championship,” he says with a big smile on his face.  It’s obvious he really enjoys telling this story, as if he orchestrated the events described or something like that.  “But the problem was the Champion himself.  At over seven feet tall and almost four hundred pounds, he was the biggest man in the company and was on the roll of his career.  The General Manager basically waited for him to win the belt so when he ate her alive in the ring, he could save face by saying, ‘Well, that’s what she said she wanted.  She shouldn’t be surprised.  I guess this goes to show that the girls really can’t hang in there with the boys.’  It was sickening,” he asserts, throwing the words up from the pit of his stomach.

“But this one,” he says affectionately, gesturing in Scylla’s direction, “would not be stopped.  She knew she couldn’t match the giant physically.  But mentally, she was the giant by comparison.  She knew it, and she knew how to make the best of it.  You see, this giant… was a bit of a drinker,” he chuckles in what may someday be referred to as the “classic” Joker voice.  “But for someone so big, the fact that he couldn’t hold his alcohol was shocking.  And it was out in the open, too… he was notorious for tying one on after matches and getting drunk in less than twenty minutes off of a few shots.  So in what would be one of her classic displays of intellect, she grabs a bottle of whiskey and proceeds to periodically pour the liquid down the throat of the big bastard, knowing that technically, there’s nothing in the rulebook against it, so she couldn’t be disqualified.  All she had to do was play cat-and-mouse, and wait.  When the mammoth passed out in a drunken stupor, the win and the Title were hers.

“It was at that moment that I took an interest to this young lady,” he says, making sure not to sound condescending to her, though.  He’s not all hugs and smiles, he’s all business.  “And I watched her grow exponentially.  She was talented, she was smart, she was conditioned, she was tenacious… she was everything that a wrestler should be.  And furthermore, because of her two X chromosomes, all of her accomplishments were made all the more important.  She was a pioneer!” he proclaims with a hint of aggression in his voice.  “And yet despite everything… despite everywhere she’s wrestled, despite everything she’s accomplished, despite all the Titles she’s won, she still, after all these years, has never been acknowledged as the great wrestler – not ‘female wrestler,’ the great wrestler – that she is.

“In fact, do you want to know just how good she really is?” he posits everyone, looking around at the crowd, his head darting in all directions in mock curiosity.  “This woman was the one who defeated me for the ROPE Intercontinental Championship before it closed its doors.  She beat a seven-time former Heavyweight Champion of the World.  That’s how good she is,” he assures, stone-faced towards Greenbean but warmly smiling at his newfound ally in the ring next to him.  “And to put the cherry right on top of that sundae, to show what kind of respect I have for her…  Normally, even if the company had closed down, I would have tracked down the person who took a belt away from me wherever they went next, forced them into a rematch regardless of the fact that there would have been no belt on the line, and made that person pay.  This woman, however,” he says, once more with nothing but seriousness in his voice.  “This woman, I left alone.  Because what went on in that match wasn’t personal… because she had my respect.  And trust me, ladies and gentlemen, that does not come easy.

“So when I saw Scylla being treated so poorly, being disrespected and being called a ‘girl wrestler,’ and people whining and complaining about having to face her and putting down her God-given abilities,” he says, working himself up into a furious sweat, “I knew where our crusade to bring back purity to this sport needed to start.  I knew it needed to start right here in UWE, and that’s what I told Scott Reave; if nothing else, we needed to give Evelyn LaRivierre the respect she so dearly deserves and desperately needs.  We came to save wrestling from itself, but we came here to make sure that Evelyn had a hand in it, because she’s had this coming for a long time.

“Evelyn is with us,” he sums up, looking straight at Greenbean one more time, “because we give her respect.  And she’s through playing games, and being ‘patient,’ and waiting – ever-waiting! – for her ship to come in.  That ship is here now, Greenbean.  Only we’re the ones commandeering it… the remnants of pride and excellence… the New Dawn.”

Deming breathes heavily, intensely as the crowd boos the mere mention of the guerilla group’s name.  He locks eyes with Greenbean from over a hundred feet away as he casually hands the microphone over to Scylla.

Before she can use the stick, though, the General Manager speaks up.  “You choose your words wisely, Eve…” Greenbean says, pointing straight out at her with his free hand.  “I want you to think long and hard about what you’ve unleashed on UWE.  The fact that you’ve allowed these… these other wrestlers… to come in and attack members of my federation is something that you should see as a betrayal!  You lied to me when you said you had nothing to do with this.  Angelus, Faulk, and Blaze have had to set their pain aside to perform tonight,” he points out, laying the guilt trip on thick.  It doesn’t make it untrue, though.  “They’re your fellow wrestlers now, and I’m your boss now, Scylla… but that can change depending on what you say in the next few minutes, I’m telling you.”

Cheers begin to erupt from the crowd as Greenbean finishes.  Scylla, having waited patiently, now looks over the arena, at all the provoked fans before responding.  “I…”  Boos instantly explode.  The mic lowers; Scylla looks to Deming, who urges her to go on.

“Greenbean, I think that you…”  Again the fans interrupt her.  Pacing the ring, she can’t help but glance to ’Bean again, who continues to stare at her, his disappointment turning to anger.  She lifts the mic to her lips once more, and everyone becomes quiet, more out of curiosity at what she has to say than anything else.  Besides, if they cut in on her one more time, they’d turn into a collective “That Guy.”  And nobody wants to be “That Guy.”

“I don’t think that you would fire me,” she reveals matter-of-factly.  She still approaches the subject with caution, but it’s evident that despite that, she still believes what she’s saying, even if she’s just figuring it out as she says it.  “I think that underneath all your corporate ideals and supposed knowledge about how professional wrestling should be, you know that I’m an asset to your promotion.  You’ve seen my skills, as well as the skills of Adam Deming, Scott Reave, Alex Kendall, and the man that took out Stevens, Allen Marrow.  And I think that you’re more interested than you let on. Go ahead and call me a liar,” she says, anticipating just that, as Greenbean had started to raise the mic to his mouth once more.  “But that would be extremely hypocritical of you.  If you wanted to, you’d have kept me on lockdown at the faintest assumption that I was involved.  You know that these men, The New Dawn, have a lot to offer you and UWE.”

Jeering rises again as Scylla takes a moment to pause.  “You can hear something underneath all this heckling, the same sound that I hear, and the same sound that provoked me to do what I did last week, and this week.  When Deming entered the ring, and that noise attempted to pierce everything else, I knew I had done the right thing. Beneath the anger, the fear, and the confusion…you heard people chanting, ‘DEAD-EYE!” didn’t you?”

If Greenbean wasn’t angry before, he certainly is now, snorting like a bull as he paces on the stage.  Deming smirks in the background, arms crossed against his chest, eyebrow raised at the audience’s insistence on drowning out whatever cheers there are for him with their own boos, hisses and catcalls.  Amused, he nudges Scylla, as if to say, “Hey, take a look at this,” but she’s too focused on addressing her boss to pay him any attention.

“And last week, when the aforementioned men stormed the ring to attack ‘my fellow wrestlers,’ their names were chanted too, weren’t they?  Yet, if everyone here loves UWE, how could anyone know who they were?  The same people who chanted, ‘SCY-LLA!’ at the battle royale at Wrestlemania 3 are the same people chanting, ‘DEAD-EYE!’ tonight.  They’re the fans that have followed through to your promotion.  They may be a minority but you hear them, and you know that deep down inside you want to appease them.

“Admittedly, I will tell you that I knowingly lied to you last week,” she relents.  She’s certainly not apologetic, though, which is probably what makes Greenbean more upset than the admission of deception itself.  “And some of my actions were motivated by selfishness. I see myself as an example of this institution of wrestling gone terribly wrong.  My career here at UWE, erratic as it is, goes to show that you have obviously overlooked my talents because I’m not in your cookie cutter mold of the perfect Champion.  Greenbean, my second match here was that battle royale.  We all were in that ring, all starting at the same time.  I was against fourteen very large, very strong, very angry wrestlers; not to mention, I was the only woman there.  I won that battle royale,” she vehemently reminds him, though she most likely wanted to serve everyone else a reminder, too.  “So, what did you do with me?  Did you book me against any of those men?  No.  Did you put me in line for any sort of Title?  No.  You put me up against Phoenix.  Why?  Not because she was my equal, obviously.  Because she was a woman.  She wasn’t even that good of a wrestler!  Exactly how long did our match last?  Oh yeah, that’s right,” she “remembers,” slapping her forehead with her palm as if she were in some self-induced V8 commercial.  “I’d figured you’d made a mistake, so I had mercy on her and finished her without breaking a sweat.

“So what happened next?  You had me face my own sister for the Women’s Championship!”  This obviously really gets under her skin, the gritting of her teeth telling the tale all too clearly.  “I told you time and time again that such a belt was meaningless in a division consisting of three people, but you refused to listen.  You wanted me in that division to keep me from everyone else, because that’s how it works in professional wrestling.  The women stay in one division, the men in the other.  However, when I ended up outlasting those other girls, I figured you’d start using me for my talent rather than my gender.  I waited for that moment, when I’d get a contender match for the Intercontinental Championship, or even the World Title, which you know  I’m qualified for.  But it never came.  You just—”

“What about King of the Ring?” Greenbean interjects.  He’s had enough of being called out on his business decisions.  Nobody talks to the boss like this and gets away with it.  Not without at least a rebuttal.

“King… King of the Ring?” she repeats incredulously.  “You dare bring up that travesty of a tournament?  What happened in that Final Round match, hmm?  Maybe I should ask your legion of security guards,” she mutters condescendingly, giving the detail surrounding the squared circle the most disdainful look they may have ever seen in their entire lives.  “They are all here now, but they must have had the day off when another wrestler came from nowhere, interfered and bashed me over the head with a boot.  No, they ignored it while Jamie Stevens took the opportunity to cover my half-conscious body.  There was no rematch, no draw.  He was given the King of the Ring title, even though he won it by illegitimate means.  The next week he was crowned while I took the week off, which leads me to my next point: Jamie Stevens got to be King, not because he was better than me, but because of his status.”

“That is absolutely not true!” Greenbean insists, insulted at the mere thought of being partial.  “I just manage the company and book matches, Scylla, I try my best not to get involved with the finishes.  What happens in there, happens.  If I stuck my nose in the business of every match that had a controversial finish, then—”

“C’est la vie,” Scylla cuts in, exasperated.  “I know, ’Bean, I know…  So while Jamie Stevens paraded his false crown around, I laid low, waiting for my chance to prove myself to you.  I was put in squash match after squash match, booked against my own friends because you didn’t know what else to do with me.  I wasn’t like your precious Faulk, lover of fans worldwide… even if I could snap him in half,” she confidently asserts, not even blinking as she snaps her fingers to visually aid her sentiment.  “I wasn’t your best friend like Bryan Blaze, who always seems ahead of me despite the fact that I’ve defeated him in the past.  And I’m nothing like Stevens, who revels in his own arrogance even if his wrestling skills are not a standard on which others should base themselves,” she spits, both figuratively and literally.  “I am better than they are, yet I get the lovely task of hazing new people in to your federation.  All I’ve done in this place is constantly try to show you that I’m worthy of being one of your prized employees that you brag about at your fancy luncheons with business executives,” she explains, getting more heated with each word she utters.  “I did all I could, as I said, to prove myself to you.  But you ignored me so you could further the agendas of sub-par male chauvinist pigs.

“I know these people here don’t want to listen to me toot my own horn,” she says as the fans start piping up again.  She pauses to take a good look at the motley lot of them… many of them drunk off their asses, not sure what they were cheering or jeering for at this point.  She nods her head, as if something has been made clear to her.  “They want to see Faulk fight Jamie Stevens.  Despite what I’m telling you and everyone else, they still want to see those two battle it out for the World Heavyweight Title. And Adam is right; it’s because they don’t know any better.  The majority of people in this arena think that those two are the contenders for that belt because they are the best.  But the thing is, you haven’t given any others the chance!  You keep the heavyweight division a small one, down to only Angelus, Faulk, Stevens, Majors, with Blaze as their whipping boy when one of them wants to become number-one contender.”

“So you let them get subjected to hammers and steel chairs out of a grudge for me?” Greenbean asks, in genuine disbelief over what he’s hearing.  “You let them suffer because you feel that I overlook your talents?  Did you think about that when you visited them in the hospital?”

Scylla shakes her head and sighs.  “It’s not about holding any grudges against you.  I already told you… it’s about getting your attention, showing you that things around here need to change.  You saw what Adam Deming, for example, can do in the ring.  I do feel guilty that Faulk and company had to be subjected to such attacks in order to get your attention, but that was the only way.  Had Deming simply signed a contract, he’d have to start from the bottom like I did, and he’d probably never get to the top without kissing your ass.  He had to show you his power on his terms rather than yours.  He knows – like I know – that contendership for Titles should be given due to abilities, not trash-talking or tenure.  I agreed with him, so I let last week happen,” she plainly admits, like it ain’t no thang.  “As for my ‘fellow wrestlers’ who didn’t visit me in the hospital – when Angelus nearly broke my arm, by the way – saw firsthand that these men don’t deserve to get the same lack of notice that I had to deal with.  Maybe they will hopefully understand once they realize that they’re not where they are because they’re still the best.”

The men in question not present to answer their verbal attacker, the General Manager steps up to bat for them: “And who exactly are you to make that claim? What makes you think they haven’t earned their places at the top, huh?”

“I’m one of the people who continue to be underestimated in this federation!” she irately snaps back.  “More than anyone, I can tell when people are not getting the consideration they deserve!”

“I should let you know, that you are being very ungrateful for what I’ve done for you,” Greenbean scolds, almost like a disappointed father.  “I gave you a job when no one else would!  Furthermore, Faulk didn’t start at the top; neither did Angelus, nor anyone else.  They received the same chance as you—”

“Look, I don’t mean to seem like a traitor, Greenbean,” she says, waving her hand at his argument dismissively. Clearly upset at the treatment he’s receiving from one of his employees who he feels he does indeed value, he turns around in disgust and breaks out his cell phone.  Scylla turns and talks into the microphone with her head looking downward, to the mat, oblivious to the General Manager’s actions.  “You just wouldn’t listen any other way.  I’m doing this for the fans, Greenbean.  Not you.  They deserve a better show to watch every Monday.  I’m willing to sacrifice my good standings with anyone in the locker room who even knows who I am besides ‘that girl wrestler’ if it means my fans – not just from UWE, but from all federations in this industry – get to see what pure wrestling truly is.”

Just as she finishes and turns around to face her boss once more, he snaps his phone shut.  “Are you done?”

“Yes, sir,” she says snidely, now aware that while she may have been heard, she hadn’t been listened to.

“So am I to believe that you’re just going to keep letting these men into the building week after week to cause chaos?” he asks rather passively.

Deming reaches for the stick, looking at Scylla to see if it’s okay to handle this one, and she obliges with a bowing-out gesture, as if to say, “The floor is all yours.”  “That’s exactly what we plan on doing,” the “Deadeye” smugly remarks.  He takes out a packet of paper that has been rolled up in his back pocket this entire time.  “And quite frankly, there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”  He flips through the pages as he speaks, finally stopping four pages in, and points to a highlighted section.  “You recognize this, Greenbean?  This is Evelyn’s personal, notarized copy of her UWE contract.  And this highlighted paragraph clearly states that she can invite up to six friends not affiliated with the company backstage whenever she chooses.  And good sir, we most certainly are her friends,” he grins, hissing like a viper.

“All right then,” he says, rubbing his chin.  “If that’s the way you want to play it…  I’ll tell you what,” he says, taking a step forward.  “You want to make an impact here so badly?  Fine.  Next week… Deming, you and Reave and all your other little friends can meet me here in the ring at the top of the show… and I’ll give you a chance to make all the impact you want.”

Bobby: “What is he talking about?”

Hugh: “Is he just going to let the New Dawn run rampant and do whatever they want?”

“At the top of next Monday’s Showdown, I’ll be waiting in the ring for you with UWE contracts for you to sign.”  The crowd erupts; half in jubilation, half in outrage.

Bobby: “WHAT?!”

Hugh: “He’s inviting them here?!”

“If you want to change UWE so badly, you can do it the right way… as part of the company.  What do you say to that, hmm?”

Deming’s grin doubles in length as he raises the microphone back to his lips.  “You’ve got it.”

“Now are you speaking for yourself or the entire group, now, Deming?  I don’t want any controversy here,” the General Manager replies.

“Are you kidding me?” Deming arrogantly chuckles.  “Every true revolution needs to come from the inside, ’Bean.  That was our hope all along.”

“So you promise you’ll show?”

A little annoyed at the constant requested reassurances, Deming snaps back, “Yes, yes, of course!  Geez, open your damn ears, man!”

Greenbean smiles as he addresses the crowd.  “Done deal.  Let the record show that on behalf of the New Dawn, that that man, Adam Deming, promised on live television that he and his group of miscreants will show up next week at the top of the show to sign UWE contracts.  Should you renege on your—”

“Ha ha, very funny, douche bag,” Deming retorts, sarcastically shaking his head.  “Just send our lawyers the contracts ahead of time so we can look them over first, and depending on what we see, we’ll be there.”

“Oh trust me, Deming, you and yours will be well taken care of.  But there is one thing more…” the General Manager says, with a little smirk of his own forming on the right side of his face.  “The reason I want you at the top of the show?  Yeah, that would be because I want to put you to work as soon as possible.  I’ve already got your opponents in mind, too… and they’re dying to meet you!”

The second the final words are said, out from the backstage area walks Riddick Andrews, with Onslaught on his right side and Aftermath on his left side. Riddick has an extendable silver baton, while Onslaught has a hockey stick and Aftermath is carrying a baseball bat. Riddick taps the baton against the palm of his hand while Aftermath is pointing his bat in the direction of the ring. Deming looks at Scylla with a look of shock on his face, realising their outnumbered and weaponless, Deming decides its about time to retreat and whispers something to Scylla, before heading to the ropes, but as he’s about to climb out of the ring he sees Scylla remains still, with a blank expression on her face he knows he cannot leave her behind and grabs her softly, which she brushes off, determined to remain in the ring. Knowing Scylla will be broken if they get their hands on her, Deming grabs both arms of Scylla and forcefully drags her out of the ring, knowing this is not the time to fight. Deming helps Scylla over the barricades and follows her into the crowd as the two start to make their way through the fans. Riddick, Onslaught and Aftermath get into the ring and stare in their direction, encouraging them to come back into the ring, but there’s no such look as UWE heads to commercials.

[Greenbean]

UWE World Heavyweight Championship Match
Main Event: E.E. Faulk(c) vs Jamie Stevens

Match Writer: Greenbean

Hugh Reynolds: Now this is the big one, the moment everyone’s been waiting for ever since Faulk came to UWE. It’s time, its Faulk vs Stevens!

”Another way to Die” by Alicia Keys and Jack White hits the p.a system, leaving the fans with nothing to do but boo the guy about to make his entrance. As the chorus kicks in, Jamie Stevens comes walking out from behind the curtain, with Arrington by his side.

Schumacher: The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the UWE World Heavyweight Championship! Introducing first the challenger, from Grand Rapids, Michigan, weighing in at two hundred and fifteen pounds, he is the 2008 King of the Ring...Jamie Stevens!

Stevens has a smile on his face, he’s happy to be here. Slowly he comes walking down the entrance ramp as Arrington takes her place at the side of the ring; he steps inside and stands, staring at the entrance ramp with a confident grin on his face.

A lit fuse appears on the Titantron, with its hiss being the only sound in the arena. The fuse runs out at the bottom of the screen and BOOM! The stage erupts with fiery, explosive pyro.

Schumacher: And the opponent, from New York City, New York, weighing in at one hundred and sixty five pounds, he is the UWE World Heavyweight Champion…E.E Faulk!

Through the smoke arrives E. E. Faulk, as the song "Path" by Apocalyptica plays him to the ring. He has his championship in his hand and Faulk climbs into the ring, where the staredown between he and Stevens behind as his music fades from the p.a system.

The bells sounds and both superstars are clearly not 100 percent. Faulk even has a cast on his arm, which is still undetermined to weather its broken or not, though word backstage is it’s just badly sprained. Both men come walking into the middle of the ring, staring a hole through one another, they are both used to being the main man and they both know the man infront of him is what’s preventing them from being the best. The atmosphere is at a fever pitch, not one ass in on a seat. The ref now calls for the bell and this one’s underway as both guys take a few steps back and begin to psych themselves up for this one, both men are starting to circle the ring. They now come into the middle, ready to lock up but Jamie Stevens uses one of his best attributes…his brain, as he quickly grips hold of the sore arm of Faulk and twists it around, keeping hold of it and applying as much pressure to it as possible. The pain it etched in Faulk face as he bits his bottom lips in agony. Stevens now has him in a wristlock and drives Faulk arm as high up his own back as humanly possible, if Stevens can break that arm it’ll be considered a success to him. Faulk then throws an elbow behind him and it lands right on the money, but it doesn’t break the hold. He throws a second elbow but Stevens is wise to it and ducks under it, Faulk shows some of that innovative thinking though as he’s able to quickly hooks his ‘good’ arm around the neck of Stevens, dropping him hard onto the mat with a DDT and another who knows Faulk, knows he isn’t done there as he keeps hold of Stevens, bringing him up to his feet again, looking for the second of three DDT’s to complete the Repercussion…but Stevens is wise to it and cracks Faulk in the arm, buying himself just enough time to get out of Faulk’s grip and slide out of the ring under the bottom ropes in order to take a breather. He walks around the ring for a few seconds, checking his lip for blood, there isn’t any and he trades a few words with one front row fan before climbing onto the ring apron. Again Stevens shows his intelligence by luring Faulk in and he grabs the bad arm of Faulk, pulls it over the top ropes and jumps down to the floor, snapping Faulk’s arm over the top ropes as he falls to his back and rolls around the floor in agony, clutching that arm. Stevens is now like a shark that smells blood, he slides into the ring as quickly as possible and starts going to town on Faulk with numerous stomps, with the injured arm the focus of attention. Stevens brings Faulk up to his feet and hits a very nice snap suplex, keeping Faulk grounded as Stevens’ game plan is to simply keep Faulk off his feet for as long as possible. Jamie now hits a standing moonsault on Faulk, landing right where he wanted to and Stevens goes for the first pinfall attempt of the match…

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Kickout! Faulk’s up, but interestingly rolls onto his side, trying to keep his injured arm out of Stevens grasp. Jamie takes a couple steps back then runs up to Faulk, booting him hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of the champion. Faulk spends the next few seconds coughing heavily as he tries to just breathe. Jamie however, won’t allow him that luxury as he’s right back on top of the Champ, bringing him up to his feet via the arm. Jamie then gets Faulk into an armbar, which is followed by a high back kick, that connects, as Faulk drops back down to his back. Stevens goes for another cover…

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Kickout! Faulk has plenty fight left yet but s in need of a big move, with this match slowly fading out of his grasp. Stevens now raises Faulk and begins to try and remove the cast, he’s eventually able to stomp at it that much, it breaks in half and Stevens has the cast gone! He gets Faulk to his feet, unprotected arm and all, then Irish whip him into the ropes. As Faulk returns, Stevens goes for a clothesline, which is ducked and as Faulk returns he takes to the air, hitting a Strong Lariat, hitting Stevens with everything he has and hitting him with that injured arm. A wise move? No. A stupid move? Most certainly. But is it effective? Yes it is. Faulk lets out a huge yell in pain, but forces himself to get up to his feet, as does Stevens and now Faulk shows some of that Martial Arts background with chops, backfists and straight up right hands, followed by a straight kick to the side of Jamie head, which makes the number one contender drop like a sack of potatoes. Faulk is feeling the momentum, but he’s also feeling his arm which must be throbbing, but the will to win is too great. Faulk climbs to the second turnbuckle and as Stevens gets up to his feet, he dives off behind Jamie, driving him face first into the mat with a diving bulldog, the momentum is shifting here. Faulk now turns his back to Stevens, raises his fist to the crowd then jumps backwards, hitting The Imploding Star on Jamie! Faulk now attempts his first pinfall of the match…

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Kickout! A couple fans though Faulk could have it, but Jamie kicked out with enough time to spare. Faulk is now feeling that confidence as he starts to stalk Jamie, standing behind him, one arm hanging out wide with the other not so loose. Jamie gets up to his feet, Faulk kicks him in the mid-section and quickly plants him with a DDT! Again Faulk is thinking repercussion as he keeps hold of Stevens, coming up with him and this time Faulk hits a second repercussion on Jamie. Slowly the two get back to their feet, with Faulk ready to execute the third and final…but Stevens is able to counter out of it, spin through Faulk’s arm and hit him with an arm breaker, WHAT A COUNTER!!

Hugh Reynolds: Oh my what a match, this is certainly living up to the expectations in my opinion.

Bobby Moroso: I agree…come on Stevens!

Hugh Reynolds: Here we go.

Stevens is hurting and seems a little dazed, but he’s on his feet first as Faulk’s arm seems shattered now. Faulk is back on his feet though, but the attention he’s paying to his arm to too great and he receives a high arching dropkick to the face for his troubles, again knocking him to the floor. Stevens opts not to go for a cover however, as he’s ready for the Faded Glory! He warms the boot up, ready to drive it right into Faulk face. Faulk is finally up, oblivious to what awaits him as he turns around…FADED GLO-NO! Faulk ducked it…DDT! Faulk hits another DDT on Stevens!! This time Faulk DRAGS Jamie to his feet and plants him with another DDT, with just as much velocity. He gets Jamie to his feet once more; going for the third DDT to complete the repercussion…he hits it!! Stevens has been DDT’ed a total of 6 times now and Faulk covers, believing he’s retained as the fans count along with the ref…

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Kickout!! Jamie got the left shoulder up JUST in time, that was so close! Faulk is up on his feet, sensing an end is near as he tries to get the feeling back in the arm, never taking an eye off Jamie though. Jamie is up, Faulk, using his good arm, grabs the same side wrist of Stevens, pulling him close…E2KUT-NO!! Stevens pushes Faulk off while he’s jumped in the air, Faulk is able to land on his feet well though…FADED GLORY!!! Stevens nailed it!!!! He drops onto Faulk for the cover, and the World Championship for a third time…

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Thr-Kickout!!! Did Stevens win? NO says the ref! His hand was a whisker away from the mat, but Faulk’s heart is still beating and he managed to kick out somehow. Stevens punches the mat in frustration, but gets to his feet, ready to go for another Faded Glory. Faulk is eventually on his feet, weather he knows where he is or not is a completely different story. He turns around…DUCKS THE FADED GLORY…E2KUTTER! OUT OF NOWHERE!!! Faulk and Stevens are both battered, are both hurting and arm both down, but it’s Faulk who’s showing just a little movement. He’s crawling towards Stevens, giving everything he’s got to make the cover and he finally gets an arm over the number one contender, the fans count along as Faulk retains…

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Thr-Kickout!!! Now it’s Jamie’s turn to kick out a whisker away from the mat! Nobody is on their seat here and thousands of hearts are beating so fast, its like a rollercoaster ride. Faulk is now stalking Stevens, praying for him to get up so he can lock in The Breathetaker! Stevens is up, this time he is dazed and he feels two arms wrapped around his neck behind him, Faulk has it locked in The Breatheta-No! Stevens, perhaps instinctively, flips Faulk over his shoulder with a great throw and he quickly executes a backflip splash on Faulk, keeping the World Champion on the mat. Stevens drops to a knee, but then looks at the ropes and with everything he can muster, uses his strength to climb to the top ropes, it’s all or nothing here as an air of anticipation fills the arena, camera’s flash and Jamie Stevens is standing on the top ropes, ready to take the plunge, he leaps off, going for THE RIOT MAKER…FAULK MOVES! FAULK MOVES!! Stevens’ shooting star legdrop found nothing but mat and both men are in so much pain here. They struggle, but with every bit of their being are able to get up..E2KUTTER – HE NAILED IT!! Faulk hit it again!!! He drops on Stevens for a cover, this time he’s able to hook the leg…

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3!

Schumacher: Here is your winner, and STILL UWE World Heavyweight Champion…E.E. Faulk!

This building erupts! Faulk rolls off Stevens, holding his arms as he looks at Stevens, lying motionless on the match. That was epic and had so many twists in a tale that could’ve gone a different way so easily. Faulk is handed his Championship as he gets to his feet, looking right into the title and seeing his reflection, nodding to himself, he is the man! The fans are on their feet, applauding such an effort from not just Faulk, but both men. Faulk looks down at Stevens, nodding, knowing he’s been in a war as he climbs to the second ropes, showing his Championship off to the fans until UWE fades to black.