CULTURE SHOCK 2026 NIGHT TWO

For the first time in as many nights, the Estadio Azteca is rocking and a rolling, rocking and a rolling barbara-anne.

Nick Stuart: Welcome to the second night of Culture Shock. We have had new champions, we have had new legacy but tonight, we open up with the PRIME’s biggest opportunity, the Silver Ticket ladder match.

Richard Parker: We’ve seen the Golden Ticket battles over the year during the Almasy, many still wish to punch that ticket, but tonight, with the Silver Ticket on the line, everyone is facing everything but a chance at the top.

Nick Stuart: That’s absolutely true. With a new Intense Champion in Ivan, with a new Alias champion in Danny Christie, there is nothing but opportunity in the upcoming battle. Who knows what it all means in the grand landscape of modern PRIME.

Famous referee of PRIME bullshit, Ashley Barlow takes a look around the eight competitors surrounding ringside. The signs are a-plenty.

TEEN GIRL SQUAD GOALS
I JUST HOPE EVERYBODY HAS FUN!
MY MOM BEAT CANCER THREE TIMES
I’M NOT SLEEPING ON TONY GAMBLE HE’S TOO LUMPY
TONIGHT IN THE MAIN EVENT: RIA LOCKHART AND A BUNCH OF ASSHOLES
SQUAD IS SHORT FOR SQUADZILLA, KING OF ALL MATCHES
I’M HERE TO SEE KRIS ROSWELL KICK SOMEBODY
I SUFFERED FROM WARSTEIN’S DISEASE FOR YEARS UNTIL DR. FIHLGUUD FOUND A CURE — THANK YOU, DR. FIHLGUUD!!
SHOES OFF, AS REQUESTED
HEY EVERYONE, NATE COLTON IS GIVING OUT FREE COCAINE
CORAL AVALON NARFLED THE GARTHOK

There are nothing but ladders surrounding the ringside area as Barlow calls for the bell, many of PRIME’s finest awaiting a moment to go to battle in the second night of the famous PRIME Culture Shock clusterfuck.

Nick Stuart: There’s a lot on the line here, a lot of opportunity. The Silver Ticket gives you the opportunity to have everything outside of a shot at Universal Champion, Cecilworth Farthington. This is match is a proving ground and…

Before Nick Stuart can even finish his own thought, Sport and Keith Castle are already scrambling up the top of a ladder, which the other six look on. The two men begin to throw hands at the top of the ladder, to a mixture of both yays and boos. Neither one expects what is about to come next, what is about to happen to either one. As they battle, the PCP has its own ideas on taking care of business and their own situation. Sport tries his best to battle Castle, throwing hands in a way that he only knows how at the top of the ladder but Castle throws haymakers right back to one of many opponents, as they are in brawl mode, they do no see The D and Elise Arise shaking the bottom rung of the ladder that they find themselves atop and it’s a rapid fall apart as the shaky bottom of the ladder gives PCP the upper hand. With no regard for their opponents wellbeing and welfare, the shakyness becomes too much, the ground becoming unstable and Sport and Keith Castle fall out, colliding with the black mats at ringside.

Richard Parker: The PCP are taking care of business here tonight!

Nick Stuart: Sport and Keith Castle have collided with ringside, that is not what bodies should be and that was not a soft landing!

The Mexican crowd roars as the ladder falls down. The PCP want to try and take advantage of the moment but before they can take their own claim in this match, Crash Jackson has arrived unto the scene, many hot dogs on hand. As The D and Elise try to find their way to the top of the ladder, they are disrupted by the Glizzy Wizard, who throws forearms to both competitors, knocking them out of the ring.

Nick Stuart: This match really is an opportunity for future glory and with Crash Jackson, you see that none of it is going to waste.

Richard Parker: You can see the influence of the Silver Ticket in this match. It is not going to waste.

As Castle and Sport completely collapse to the hard mats on the outside, The D and Aries are quick in their attempt to climb up to the top of the ladder. The rapid attempt at victory is brought short as Crash Jackson throws hot dogs at their skulls. The battle of of the climbing comes to an abrupt halt as neither Elise, nor the The D expect to have a bunch on hot dogs lobbed directly to their skulls. They just looked at this match as an avenue for continued companionship.

As things fall apart, Kenny Freeman sets up his own red ladder inside of the ring, and begins to rapidly climb it. Unfortunately for Kenny, he notices that there are others still in flow, who try to join him on his ladder. Kris Roswell for example is one of the sorts who would like to win this ladder match actually. As Kenny begins to scamper to the top, he notices that famous head kicker Roswell in now about to kick his head. He tries to grab the Silver Ticket for the Red Army but despite Kenny’s speed, he is met with many attempts at assault on his skull.

Richard Parker: They may be perverts, but they know how to battle.

Nick Stuart: Roswell knows that this is an opportunity to see their tag team at the top of the pile and is not letting that slip away.

As Kenny Freeman tries to grab the Silver Ticket, he gets smashed in the skull, sending him flat out onto the mat below. Kris Roswell notices the silence and begins to scamper to the top but the hopes and dreams of a better future are interrupted by Weed Fiend Jack Marley, who has decided that he now wants to be involved in the match.

Freeman does not expect Marley and Roswell punching his skull in this ladder based situation. The hit him so hard even though he is atop the ladder. They punch his skill even more as he insists that he doesn’t know what happened to Steve Harrison. The punching to the brain from Roswell and Marley takes a bad turn as Kenny Freeman tries to battle back. It is however short lived, as the weed fiend and the friend of the feet fiend both decide that they are not the biggest fans of communism and throw hands back at the Red Army’s representative in the battle for the Silver Ticket.

Richard Parker: You know that Kenny is trying to show his value to the Red Army. I just wouldn’t risk for life for it.

Nick Stuart: Those ladders aren’t steady, Freeman may be putting his entire career on the line in this exchange.

Roswell continues to kick Freeman in the skull, landing to a moment that sets him unsettled down on the group. As Freeman tries to stay on and tries to be the Red Army’s hero of the match, Roswell seems very non-plussed, kicking his skull over and over. The concussion factory ends up being too much by the end as Freeman falls down and collapses unto the canvas below with a big time thud.

Richard Parker: Ivan won’t like that.

Nick Stuart: And as the new Intense Champion, he will be testing his own stable mates. Which is bad news for Kenny.

Kenny remains on the mat as Kris Roswell makes a swing at the Silver Ticket. As Roswell tries to make claim to a Tag Title opportunity with Roswell’s foot pervert pal, the swaying of battle takes the best of all competitors. Roswell looks down at the recent corpse of Kenny Freeman.

Nick Stuart: This could be anyone’s game. The ladders in the play and Kenny Freeman may have just lost his skull.

Richard Parker: The Red Army won’t like this. Or what is left of the Red Army anyway.

Roswell looks down at what is now the corpse of Kenny Freeman and quickly re-adjusts to see the Silver Ticket above.

Richard Parker: Think of the potential! Think of the opportunity! This Silver Ticket is the way to bring your own future to PRIME.

As Roswell continues to scamper to the top of the ladder, weed fiend Jack Marley finally brings himself to a level of awareness and starts to climb one of the many vacant ladders as Roswell tries to claim the ticket for Roswell and foot fetishist Satan. Marley looks to Roswell and asks if Roswell knows where Steve Harrison has went, really committing to the bit. Roswell’s response is to punch Jack Marley in the skull.

And again.

And again.

Jack Marley, perhaps due to the strength of the strain he is in possession of, remains on the ladder.

Nick Stuart: There’s no give in this match, people can see the opportunity in front of them.

Richard Parker: They can see the future in this match. They can see their future.

Jack Marley remains on the ladder as Kris Roswell throws haymakers in the direction of the Speed Weed Hero. What neither of them expect is the thing that should totally be a point of inspection as The D rushes into the ring with his own ladder, smashing into the back of Roswell and Marley. The D does it a second time to ensure that there is no more energy for the battle that the PCP finds itself in.

Richard Parker: Loyalty in the tag division is starting to show!

The D launches a ladder so hard at Kenny Freeman he sends him into the future, or perhaps another universe. As Freeman falls, The D quickly takes a moment to observe the scene in front of him. He looks to Roswell, who is still clinging on dearly and trying to grasp at the Silver Ticket and as Elise Ares sets up her own ladder, The D knows what must be done.

Nick Stuart: This is the power of partners in this match!

Richard Parker: They know that they can come to tag team glory and The D is making sure that no others will stop them. Elise is a star, she deserves her own ladder!

The D looks at the ladder situation the he finds himself in and works out the best way to acquit himself is to put his body on the line. The D launches himself at Jack Marley and the recently recovered Crash Jackson, sending all three men tumbling to the group below.

Richard Parker: The medical tent is going to be quite populous after this match.

Elise Ares notices The D’s sacrifice below and doesn’t want it to go to waste. Ares sets up her own ladder, respective of The D’s sacrifice. Ares sees that no one is around as she begins her climb to the top.

Nick Stuart: This could be it! This could be a new world for The PCP!

Richard Parker: You have to look after the star!

With no one else around, Elise Ares slowly climbs to the top of the ladder like the star she is.

Ares looks at the carnage down below but that will not deter such a magnificent brain mind. She looks down at The D and his sacrifice, she looks down at all those who stood in her way in this match…

Nick Stuart: AND ELISE ARES GRABS THE SILVER TICKET!

Ding ding ding

Vince Howard: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner of the Silver Ticket Ladder match… ELISE ARES!!!

Nick Stuart: What does this mean for the future of PRIME, what does this mean for Squad Goals?

Richard Parker: I don’t want to find out…

Elise holds the Silver Ticket on high and she looks at The D’s sacrifice below.

The Whorehouse.

By definition, a place of fun and debauchery.

Usually filled with life and noise and weird smells.

But tonight, night two of Culture Shock, it’s quiet. Painfully quiet.

The lights are dimmed.

Rob Williams sits alone on the couch, an open flask in one hand and a Camel unfiltered in the other.

The glass table in front of him, normally home to perfectly chopped lines of various substances, holds only the 5 Star Title. Sitting atop it is a photo of the moment Anna joined The Whoresmen. Bright lights, everyone smiling.

Rob Williams: We fucking had it all.

Suddenly, the door opens letting light into an otherwise abysmal room. Somebody has clearly found Dusk’s hidden stash of fog machines because it comes rolling in with different colors, shapes, and unfathomable secrets in the night. It rolls in thick.

And then…a figure walks in.

It moves slowly and sniffs.

Then it keeps moving closer.

The bedazzled number 3 Goodwrench jacket glitters in spite of the doom and gloom. The matching bellbottom pants do the same. A lit cigarette dangles between lips. Anna Daniels–in the flesh, for what little that’s worth–sniffs in the air again. Whether that’s because of Jackson Cooley’s last party favors or not… doesn’t really matter.

Anna Daniels: It smells like bitch in here.

The hounds on the ends of the leash she’s holding have varying opinions. One simply wags his tail and awaits scratchies. The other is sniffing at Rob and begins to growl.

Speaking of bedazzled…

The camera pans to find Daytona Diamonds sitting in a corner, curled into a not-so-little ball. More of a boulder, really. His hair’s dyed blonde. His upper lip is trembling. He has that thousand yard stare that you only ever really see in Stanley Kubrick movies. Red eyes. Lots of veins. What a vascular man. He’s rocking back and forth a little, but that’s okay. It’s not like his entire life has fallen apart or anythi—

OH WAIT

Daytona Diamonds: Fuckin’… dogs, man. I had dogs once. Don’t no more. Don’t… no… more.

Anna simply looks at all the sad and shakes her head. She sighs and releases the dogs. The fog machines have been shut off and this dramatic reentrance isn’t going well. Bucky goes towards Daytona trying to figure out what the hell that giant quivering manball thing is. Dingtona, however, is still smelling something he doesn’t particularly like emanating from his (former?) owner.

Anna Daniels: Boys, for real. What in the hell are you depressed over? Last time we were here, you two assfucks were tag champs. And apparently, you–

A point to Rob.

Anna Daniels: –are still the Five Star champ. You have an excuse, your friend died. That fucking sucks. Mourn all you need to, but you’re still alive. And you!

That same finger now thrusted at the formerly confident beyond words yeehaw man.

Anna Daniels: What in the fuck happened to you!? Jesus Christ, is this how it is? Y’all fall to pieces the minute we’re not around? And yo–

The Muse goes to swing her finger around again… but the object of her questions seems to be invisible. She looks surprised, then a little upset.

Anna Daniels: Where the hell is Fred?

Rob Williams: Fred’s too busy carrying around Big John Pepper’s giant nuts. What the fuck happened to us, man?

Anna digs her claws into Rob’s shoulders and shakes him like a rag doll.

Anna Daniels: That’s what we’re asking you, ya son of a–

The door closes. Cue Fred Dick, zooted to hell and nibbling on a bag of Big John Pepper’s Giant Nuts (only at the PRIMEporium).

Fred Dick: Whores fer lyfe!

Everything living looks at the man who couldn’t read a room if it was in big bold letters and translated in Dickenese. Anna stops shaking Rob.

Anna Daniels: Yes. Indeed. Whores for life.

Another sigh.

Anna Daniels: Somewhere between the start and right now, we’ve lost the damn way. All of us. But we’ll fucked if we’re going to let things stay down like this. Freddie, watch the dogs. Make sure Dingtona doesn’t eat Rob’s face. This bitch–

Dramatic point to self.

Anna Daniels: –has art to create.

Rob Williams: Wait a goddamn minute.

Everyone stops cold.

Obviously, Rob is a dick. But never to them. Especially never to her.

Rob Williams: This shit used to mean something. It was more than just a Whorehouse – it was a Whorehome. Now I get it, we’re all on side quests, and fuck that’s pretty cool. But if this ain’t real, let’s just set this place on fire and call it a fucking day.

Rob stands, shaking his gray mane and holding his giant mitts up making a fucking huge hole with them.

Rob Williams: I need y’all. Don’t talk about it, fucking be about it.

Fred is the first to move.

Well, wobble over.

He smiles a doofy, astronaut smile as he slides his hand into the hole.

Anna follows closely behind, her hand easily sliding in next to Fred’s.

Daytona looks up at them like the bitch from the Matrix who said “not like this” before being flatlined.

Rob Williams: Come on, ‘Tone. Get in there.

Reluctantly, slowly Daytona approaches the hole. At first he’s like a battle worn stray dog – wincing anytime the group waves at him.

Rob Williams: You’re safe, ‘Tone. C’mon – we got you.

The tramp has found a new home.

As if the hole might bite him, Daytona slides in cautiously.

Everyone pumps back and forth.

In Unison: Whores 4 lyfe! Whores 4 lyfe! Whores 4 lyfe!

Fade to black.

Nick Stuart: Well folks, it is time. Squad Goals action officially begins right now with our first of three matches. It’s Team TAL, featuring its captain The Anglo Luchador, our fearless leader, Lindsay Troy, Blaze Claymore, and Sage Pontiff!

Richard Parker: Given the team standing across from them, Nick, it might be smart for our fEaRLeSS leader to have some! Because they’re taking on Team Stanislav, featuring the literally fearless captain, Ivan Stanislav, Chandler Tsonda, Scott Hunter, and Bobby Neptune!

Nick Stuart: It’s going to be a wild ride, folks! So fasten in your seat belts!

Vince Howard: The following contest is a SQUAD GOALS MATCH! Introducing first…

“The Soviet National Anthem” by the Red Army Choir hits the speakers, and Mexico City doesn’t like it one bit.

Boos fall like lightning as Ivan Stanislav, Chandler Tsonda, Scott Hunter, and Bobby Neptune step out from Argyle and onto the entrance ramp.

Vince Howard: At a combined weight of 1,089 pounds! TEEEEEAM STANISLAV!!!!

Ivan raises both of his fists in the air as he leads his team towards the ring.

Nick Stuart: They appear less than thrilled to be walking behind Ivan, Richard. That could show up in this match tonight!

Richard Parker: Nick, you fool. Ivan didn’t pick these guys for no reason. They’re professionals. And for one night, they can set their differences aside in a professional setting!

Nick Stuart: You sure about that?

Richard Parker: Not at all!

Team Stanislav enters the ring. The Russian Bear roars with his fist in the air while his squad take sets of turnbuckles to raise their fists towards the fans.

Vince Howard: And their opponents…

The lights go out in the arena, and a big murmur goes up in the crowd, excited for what’s next. Then the PRIMEView lights up to show a Japanese man with impeccable combed-over black hair, a square jaw, and a towel around his neck emphatically saying a phrase in his native tongue. The translation is in subtitles:

“PRO WRESTLING IS A SACRED SPORT!”

The Anglo Luchador, Lindsay Troy, Blaze Claymore, and Sage Pontiff step onto the entrance ramp.

Mexico City erupts.

Vince Howard: At a combined weight of 797 pounds! TEEEEEAM TAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!

Nick Stuart: A much more cohesive look from this squad as they march towards the ring, Richard.

Richard Parker: Makes sense. I heard they played house together at Burning Man or something.

Nick Stuart: …That’s wildly inaccurate.

The quartet enter the ring, raising their fists in the air while Mexico City marks out.

The squads gather together, huddle up in their respective corners. Eventually, everyone steps out of the ring except the two that will begin the contest.

Chandler Tsonda from Team Stanislav.

Sage Pontiff from Team TAL.

Nick Stuart: Strategy from both teams appears to be to kick things off with members that didn’t have a match the night previous, Richard.

Richard Parker: Wouldn’t be surprised if we see that strategy all night.

DING DING

Nick Stuart: AND OUR FIRST SQUAD GOALS MATCH IS UNDERWAY!!!

Chandler Tsonda flies across the ring for a flying forearm!!!

AN ABSOLUTELY BRUTAL SAVATE KICK TO THE JAW BY SAGE PONTIFF AND TSONDA TURNS INSIDE OUT!!!

Nick Stuart: OH MY GOD!!!

Richard Parker: CHANDLER TSONDA’S NIGHT MIGHT BE OVER ALREADY!!!

Sage Pontiff covers, hooks the leg!!!

Turnbull counts!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREE!!!

NO!!! KICKOUT BY TSONDA!!!

Nick Stuart: Too close for comfort there!

Richard Parker: Ivan is irate!

Ivan is irate. He screams Russian obscenities as Sage Pontiff stands to his feet and delivers a few boots to Tsonda’s ribs for kicking out. Sage pulls Tsonda to his feet and whips him, smartly, into Team TAL’s corner. Tsonda collides into the turnbuckles!

Sage charges the turnbuckles and drives his knee into Tsonda’s midsection before tagging in Lindsay Troy.

Mexico City goes wild as LT steps into the ring and sends a skin breaking knife-edge chop into his chest! Another! Another!

Nick Stuart: Does Lindsay Troy have the most underrated chops in PRIME?

An overhand chop SMACKS off Tsonda’s chest as if to answer Nick’s question with an emphatic, “yes.” Tsonda’s chest is red enough for a bull to get pissed off at the sight of it, and he’s had enough. An elbow to Troy creates enough room for him to escape out of the turnbuckles, and he sends a back kick into LT for her trouble. Chandler, finally feeling an opportunity to build some momentum, charges towards the ropes, and—

Ivan SLAPS Chandler on the back, tagging himself in and—

Mexico City starts to rumble as Ivan Stanislav steps over the top rope and into the ring with a snarl.

Lindsay Troy, the legal competitor, stands by her corner, a snarl towards Ivan on her own face.

Nick Stuart: Is this really finally happening!?!

Richard Parker: Get her, Ivan!

Nick Stuart: Destroy him LT!!!

But Blaze Claymore gives everybody a pair of blueberries by tagging himself in.

Mexico City erupts with jeers.

Richard Parker: Blaze Claymore might just be the most loathed man in Mexico right now, Nick.

Lindsay Troy swivels on her heels, a little annoyed at Blaze, but what’s done is done as he leaps over the top rope and into the ring.

Ivan sneers like one does moments before they intentionally crush a bug with their shoe.

Blaze Claymore gestures Ivan forward, the universal “just bring it!” gesture.

Ivan is more than happy to oblige! A standing lariat by Ivan is ducked by Claymore, who charges towards the ropes, bounces off them, and—

Gets a big bear paw wrapped around his neck—

Gets his ass lifted about seven thousand feet into the air—

AND BRUTALLY CHOKESLAMMED TO THE MAT!!!

Richard Parker: Pin him, Ivan!!! Get him out of here!!!

But Claymore shows the ring awareness to roll himself out of the ring to the outside. Ivan screams for his teammates to pursue and beat him up, but before they can even make their minds up on that, TAL, LT, and Sage are there to guard Claymore while he gathers himself.

Nick Stuart: Now that’s being a squad right there! One thing’s for sure, they know how Ivan operates, and it appears they game planned to intercept those kinds of shenanigans.

Richard Parker: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Do your job Turnbull!

Turnbull, doing absolutely nothing to deserve that remark from Richard, doesn’t have a chance to address Blaze being out of the ring, as Ivan is in his face, screaming about collusion, Troyism, and so on.

He backs Turnbull into his corner, and Scott Hunter tags himself in.

Ivan, furious, screams at Hunter.

Hunter tells Ivan to take a chilled pill as he enters the ring, as a cool and refreshing pill is known to calm down angry bears.

Ivan smears his face with his own hands and steps onto the apron, while Blaze Claymore slides back into the ring.

Blaze nods at Hunter.

Hunter nods at Blaze.

And they lock up in the middle of the squared circle. Hunter enjoys a 65 pound advantage over Claymore, and uses it to establish control of the lock up immediately, transitioning Claymore into a side headlock. Immediately, Claymore back tracks towards the ropes, leans against them for leverage, and shoves Hunter away on the springboard! Hunter bounces off the ropes, and runs into a drop toehold from Blaze! Blaze leaps to his feet, and leg drops Hunter over the back of his neck!

Claymore rolls away, and tags in the Anglo Luchador, who swiftly moves into the ring and drops a knee on Hunter, before pulling him up to his feet by the arm to continue a fast paced assault. He whips Hunter into the ropes— NO! Hunter reverses, whips TAL into the ropes—

Nick Stuart: AND IVAN STANISLAV HAS GRABBED TAL BY THE NECK!!! HE’S LITERALLY STRANGLING THE ANGLO LUCHADOR AND RAG DOLLING HIM AROUND!!!

LT, Blaze and Sage are apoplectic! They scream at Turnbull to do something!

Richard Parker: Given Alexei’s condition, and how The Anglo Luchador’s recent match with Stanislav played out — that is to say, with how TAL obliterated poor Alexei prior to the match starting, I think this could be a wonderfully cathartic moment for Ivan, Nick.

Ivan lets TAL go and he crumples to the mat. Turnbull warns Ivan not to pull anymore crap like that, but the damage is done. Scott looks at TAL who lies on the mat, struggling to breathe, grasping at his neck, and tags in Bobby Neptune.

Neptune leaps over the ropes and impressively lands on TAL with a picture perfect senton! TAL groans and writhes after the impact, but the Starboy ain’t done. He jumps onto the second rope, then the top rope, and lands an absolutely aesthetically pleasing moonsault on TAL, hooking the leg!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

Kickout by TAL!

Richard Parker: Yeah, Bobby, I don’t know if anyone told you this, but the Anglo Luchador is a psychopath. It’s going to take a lot more than that, bud.

Bobby reaches his feet and pulls TAL up to his own wobbly ones. He whips TAL into the ropes, where Sage Pontiff tags himself in. TAL bounces off the ropes and WIPES BOBBY OUT WITH A FLYING WHEEL KICK!!!

Ivan screams at Turnbull about TAL not being the legal man, and TAL leaves the ring while Bobby scrambles to his corner and tags in the first man he can touch.

That man just happens to be Scott Hunter, who springboards back into the ring and meets Sage halfway across it, where they immediately begin exchanging blows.

A left from Sage, a right from Hunter! A left from Sage, a right from Hunter! Sage! Hunter! Sage! Hunter! Sage! Hunter! Hunter! Hunter! Sage! Hunter! Hunter! Hunter! Hunter! Hunter!

Hunter has Sage Pontiff backed into a corner now, and starts laying the boots to his midsection, until Sage crumples in that corner and starts getting a mud hole stomped in him. Hunter is feeling that momentum baby, and it’s good and it’s beautiful. Sage starts to drag himself up to his feet, using the turnbuckles as a mechanism to do so, and Hunter grabs his ankle!

Dragon Screw Leg Whip by Scott Hunter! Sage scrambles up to his feet and Scott Hunter runs into an arm drag! Hunter scrambles up to his feet, they both attempt a dropkick!

They both scramble to their feet, Hunter ducks a spinning heel kick, Sage ducks a lariat, he charges towards the ropes and bounces off them, avoids a big boot with a baseball slide that sends him skidding under the bottom rope to the outside!

The Mexico City audience cheers at the sequence as Sage’s feet touch the floor outside the ring.

And jeer immediately as Ivan nails him with a big boot for being there!

Nick Stuart: I am so sick of Ivan getting away with crap like that, Richard.

Richard Parker: He’s only been doing it your entire freaking life, Nick.

But suddenly…

Mexico City ERUPTS with cheers.

And Ivan Stanislav?

His eyes go wide.

He tries to… tries to cup his balls but…

Lindsay Troy’s whole forearm is in the way!!!

Nick Stuart: LOW BLOW BY LT TO IVAN!!! A LOW BLOW BY LT TO IVAN!!! YES!!! YES!!!

Richard Parker: IF TURNBULL WOULD DO HIS JOB THIS WOULDN’T BE HAPPENING!!!

Nick Stuart: IVAN EARNED THAT LOWBLOW!!! YOU KNOW HE DID!!!

Turnbull, once again, doing his job, has LT moving back to her corner and Sage crawling himself back into the ring, still feeling the effects of that big boot!

Scott Hunter allows Sage to pull himself up to his feet. The two of them once again begin trading blows, and this time, Scott Hunter once again wins the exchange. He sends a boot into Sage’s gut! He drapes Pontiff’s arm over the back of his neck and lifts him HIGH into the air!!!

A PROLONGED VERTICAL SUPLEX POSITION HELD BY SCOTT HUNTER!!!

But uh… holding it this long…

On a guy like Sage Pontiff…

Well, it’s risky. Sage’s legs start to kick, which allows Sage to escape through the back door and land on his feet behind Scott! Pontiff straight up just charges towards Hunter as Hunter swivels to face him, and launches himself head first with a FLYING HEADBUTT THAT BASHES HUNTER IN THE NOSE!!!

Blood pulsates from Hunter’s nostrils as he’s kicked in the gut, and his head is placed between Sage’s legs!!!

SHAMANIC DREAMWEAVER!!! SHAMANIC DREAMWEAVER TO SCOTT HUNTER!!!

TURNBULL MAKES THE COUNT!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen, Scott Hunter has been eliminated!

Nick Stuart: Ho. Lee. Shit. Scott Hunter is our first elimination, and Sage Pontiff picks up the—

Richard Parker: LOOK OUT MY SEXY BEAUTIFUL SAGE!!!

IVAN SNATCHES SAGE BY THE NECK AND LIFTS HIM INTO THE AIR!

IRON CURTAIN BY IVAN STANISLAV TO SAGE PONTIFF IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING RING!!!

IVAN ENTERED THE RING FIRST SO HE IS THE LEGAL MAN!!!!

HE ROARS AND MAKES THE COVER!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen, Sage Pontiff has been eliminated!

Nick Stuart: A cheap move by Ivan immediately evens the odds!

Richard Parker: It wasn’t a cheap move you biased troglodyte! It was a smart move, a heady move.

Ivan stands in the center of the ring. He beckons Lindsay Troy to enter. Pleads with her. Begs her.

She starts to step into the ring—

But The Anglo Luchador leapfrogs the top rope and sends a forearm into Ivan’s chest, which barely staggers the Russian Bear, but TAL is nothing if not unrelenting. Forearm after forearm after forearm slowly batters Ivan backwards towards the ropes!

Ivan finds himself pressed against the top rope by yet another forearm!

TAL sprints across the ring. Dusts the mat with his foot like a bull, and charges the Big Red Bastard!

A FLYING FOREARM SENDS IVAN AND THE ANGLO LUCHADOR TOPPLING OVER THE ROPES TO THE OUTSIDE!!!

A THUNDEROUS FUCKING COLLISION FROM AN ALLEGEDLY 400 POUND BODY COLLIDING WITH A THIN MAT AND CONCRETE!!!

Chandler Tsonda stares across the ring at Lindsay Troy.

Troy looks back at Tsonda like what the hell are you on about.

Tsonda winks, drops down to the floor.

And starts leveling The Anglo Luchador with boot after boot after vicious boot.

Lindsay Troy and Blaze Claymore immediately drop from their posts and haul ass around the ring to help their partner.

Bobby Neptune and Chandler Tsonda meet them there.

And there, amongst the debris of Russian Bear and Anglo Luchador?

All god damn hell breaks loose.

Bobby and Blaze.

Troy and Tsonda.

They tear into each other like teeth and flesh.

Let’s start with the saga of Lindsay Troy and Chandler Tsonda.

They exchange lefts and rights all around the outside of the ring. A left from Tsonda finally sends Troy careening backwards into the guard rail, where Tsonda chops her – HARD!

The Queen of the Ring winces, before grabbing Tsonda by the head and swiveling, pushing his back against the guard rail, and giving him an overhand chop he’d like to never feel again in his life! The impact has him bouncing on his feet in pain, and he gives Troy an elbow to the jaw as a result that sends her tumbling towards the entrance ramp.

On the backside of the ring, Bobby has found himself on the apron, looking back to make sure Blaze is where he thinks he is! He LEAPS OFF!!!

Blaze DODGES out of the way, and Bobby hangs himself over the guard rail at the midsection!

Oof!

Nick Stuart: We’ve been giving Turnbull some crap, but, really, it’s impressive it took this long for absolute chaos to ensue.

Richard Parker: Yeah, not gonna lie, it’s been a surprise.

Turnbull is yelling at everybody to get back to their corners and no one is listening and he can’t really do a damn thing about it. Lindsay and Chandler have beaten each other all around the outside of the ring, meanwhile Blaze has whipped Bobby Neptune into the steel steps so hard it dislodged them from their position against the post.

Meanwhile, Ivan and TAL have slowly, but surely, started climbing to their feet.

It’s harder for the much more massive Ivan to reach his, and he’s met with an enziguri from the Anglo Luchador halfway up to his feet for his trouble.

TAL slides back into the ring, and Ivan woozily reaches his feet. A fury settles deep within the Russian Bear’s spirit, an anger that is painful for him as well. He walks over to the dislodged steel steps where Bobby and Blaze are fighting. Stanislav lariats Blaze hard enough to turn him inside out. Then he shoos Bobby off of the steps, before picking them up over his head, and heaving them into the ring.

Richard Parker: Ivan wants to make this brutal. And why not? He thrives in brutality.

Nick Stuart: That he does, Richard.

Ivan climbs onto the ring apron, and TAL is there to hit him with forearm shots. But Ivan isn’t budging, and he SNATCHES the Anglo Luchador by his throat.

Chokeslam from the ring apron to TAL who remains inside the ring!

Ivan heaves one leg over the top rope, and steps into the ring. He picks up those steel steps and BASHES them into the Anglo Luchador!

TAL cries out in pain. As one would.

Then Ivan delivers those steel steps right to his knee.

Outside the ring, Chandler and LT have fought their way halfway up the entrance ramp before the unmistakable sound of a set of steel steps crashing into bone reaches their ears. Both of them turn to see the situation in the ring. LT sends a swift boot into Tsonda, giving her the space to fly towards the ring and slide under the bottom rope.

Ivan Stanislav doesn’t even see it coming.

With those steel steps held high over his head, he is ready to once again bring them down on TAL when—

RAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!

Nick Stuart: A DIVING SHOULDER INTO THE BACK OF IVAN’S KNEE FROM LT!!!!

He immediately drops the steps and falls to his knees.

He almost has time to register its LT who underhooks him from that prone positon—

DOUBLE UNDERHOOK DDT ONTO THE STEEL STEPS BY LINDSAY TROY!!!

IVAN STANISLAV IS OUT FUCKING COLD!!!

Lindsay grabs TAL by his arm and painstakingly drags him over to Ivan’s carcass! She drapes his arm over Ivan’s shoulder!!!

Nick Stuart: LINDSAY TROY HAS JUST SINGLE-HANDEDLY ARRANGED THE ELIMINATION OF IVAN STANISLAV!!!

TURNBULL MAKES THE COUNT!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREEEEEEEEEEE— MODEL CITIZEN FROM TSONDA!!!!

IT BREAKS UP THE COUNT!!!!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Nick Stuart: Never in a million years did I think I’d utter the following sentence, but here it is: Chandler Tsonda just saved Ivan Stanislav from elimination.

Richard Parker: And you had the audacity to suggest that Team Stanislav couldn’t work together!

Blaze Claymore and Bobby Neptune have found their way back to their respective corners. Lindsay Troy has grabbed Chandler Tsonda, fresh off a beautiful Model Citizen, and thrown him out of the ring.

But as she turns around?

A hand wraps around her throat.

BOOOOOO!!!!

Ivan finally has LT. Right where he wants her. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

But uh—

LOWBLOW BY TAL!!! THE ANGLO LUCHADOR WITH THE SECOND LOWBLOW TO IVAN’S NARDS FOR THE NIGHT, AND IVAN LETS GO OF TROY!!!

TAL SCRAMBLES TOWARDS HIS CORNER, TAGS IN BLAZE CLAYMORE!!!

LINDSAY STEPS ONTO THE APRON.

AND BLAZE GOES FOR THE COVER ON THE NARD-DESTROYED RUSSIAN BEAR!!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREEEEEEEEE!!!

NO!!!

IVAN’S BOTTOM FOOT FOUND THE ROPE!!!

Nick Stuart: So close. So close.

Richard Parker: Nick, if you think a shot to the gonads is enough to keep Ivan down, I have beach front property in Kansas for sale that your dumb ass might be interested in.

Nick Stuart: Don’t call me a dumb ass.

Richard Parker: I’m sorry. You got me heated.

Bobby Neptune seizes the opportunity and tags himself in off Ivan’s foot, before springboarding himself into the ring, and catching Blaze with a beautiful springboard missile dropkick on his way in that sends Blaze skidding across the mat towards the turnbuckles!

Blaze springs back up to his feet, the surprise and adrenaline seizing his body. He ducks a spinning heel kick from the Flying Object, and drops a knee on his back for his trouble!

Blaze locks in a calf crusher right there in the center of the ring on Bobby Neptune!

And Bobby cries out in pain!

Nick Stuart: A very painful looking calf crusher from Claymore here, Richard.

Richard Parker: Tell ya what. I’m glad it’s not me!

Bobby reaches and clamors for the ropes but there’s nowhere to run! There’s nowhere to escape!

Writhe. That’s all Bobby Neptune can do.

Writhe.

Eventually Bobby has no choice… he has to tap…

He has… to…

…tap…

BOBBY WRAPS HIS ARM AROUND BLAZE’S NECK AND SLAMS IT INTO THE MAT INSTEAD!!! OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER!!!

BLAZE CLAYMORE BREAKS THE HOLD!

Bobby Neptune is cheered for the violence by Ivan and Chandler, and Bobby stands— well, kind of stands.

That calf crusher did a number on the Space Cadet’s leg.

It has weakened considerably.

Still, it hasn’t weakened his fighting spirit. He sizes up Blaze, he runs, and jumps on the second rope for a springboard and—

Bobby Neptune: AHHHH!!!

His leg gives out on him.

Ivan’s eyes widen.

Bobby Neptune turns around, right into

10,000 LAKES!!! 10,000 LAKES!!! A BARRAGE OF ELBOWS, KNEES, FISTS, AND KICKS OBLITERATES THE FLYING OBJECT!!!

BLAZE PICKS NEPTUNE UP!!!

Nick Stuart: LAKE EFFECT!!! LAKE EFFECT TO BOBBY NEPTUNE!!! AND BLAZE MAKES THE COVER!!!

Jimmy Turnbull slides into the frame to make the count!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen, Bobby Neptune has been eliminated!

Nick Stuart: That is HUGE for Team TAL!

Richard Parker: Speaking of “huge”….

Just like last time, the massive Russian Bear comes lumbering into the ring to try and quickly even the odds!

But Blaze Claymore is ready, and frankly, sees a massive opportunity for himself here, and why wouldn’t he? If he could find a way to pin the Russian Bear, it would be a massive step forward for his career, and he’s not unaware of that fact.

He’s also keenly aware of the alleged 220 pound difference between the two of them.

Think about that. The weight differential between Ivan Stanislav and Blaze Claymore is heavier than Blaze Claymore’s actual body.

And thus, Blaze does what anyone in his position would do here.

He attacks Ivan Stanislav like a crazy son of a bitch and starts waylaying him with punches. To his credit, dem boys is landing stiffly, too. Left, right, left, right, left, right, left!

And Ivan’s face is actually getting pretty busted up by it.

And yet, something gives pause to Blaze.

It’s Ivan.

He’s smiling with blood-stained teeth through the punches. He’s smiling. The crazy bastard is smiling.

HE HEADBUTTS THE DAYLIGHTS OUT OF BLAZE CLAYMORE!!!

Blaze Claymore’s nose busts open and sprays a blood mist as if it were a bottle of Windex.

It’s a horrifying sight.

Blaze falls back and hits the mat like a sack of taters.

Ivan doesn’t waste any time whatsoever, but moves forward, blitzing. He picks Blaze Claymore up by the neck. High into the air.

Blood drips from Claymore’s nose to the canvas below them.

GOOD FREAKING GOD!!!

THE IRON CURTAIN TO BLAZE!!!

ONTO THOSE STEEL STEPS!!!

Nick Stuart: GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!!!

Blaze cries out in wild and intense pain.

Ivan kicks him off the steel steps to the mat, and makes the cover!!!

Jimmy Turnbull parks his ass and counts!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Vince Howard: Ladies and gentlemen, Blaze Claymore has been eliminated.

TAL steps into the ring and charges Ivan! Ivan SNATCHES him by the throat!!!

HE LIFTS THE ANGLO LUCHADOR HIGH INTO THE AIR!!!

THE IRON CURT—

THUMB TO THE EYE FROM THE ANGLO LUCHADOR!!!

TAL REALLY DIGS HIS THUMB INTO THAT EYESOCKET AND IVAN IS FORCED TO LET HIM GO!!!

Richard Parker: A cheap move from TAL there.

Nick Stuart: Smart move, Richard. Heady move.

Ivan staggers backwards, rubbing at his eye, and Chandler reaches over the rope, slapping Ivan on the back and tagging himself in.

TAL exhaustedly climbs up from his knees to his feet after being dropped by Ivan. He ducks a lariat from Chandler Tsonda, and swiftly wraps him up from behind!

BUTTERFLY SUPLEX BY THE ANGLO LUCHADOR!!!!

NO!!! CHANDLER BACKFLIPS CLEAN OUT OF IT!!!

THE ANGLO LUCHADOR SPINS AROUND.

HE’S LIFTED ONTO CHANDLER’S SHOULDERS!!!

BANG!!!

Nick Stuart: THE NARCISSIST’S NOOSE!!! THE NARCISSIST’S NOOSE BY CHANDLER TSONDA TO THE ANGLO LUCHADOR!!!!

Chandler Tsonda makes the cover!!!

Jimmy Turnbull positions himself to make the count!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen, The Anglo Luchador has been eliminated!

Richard Parker: Oh. My. God.

Nick Stuart: Folks, we are down to three. The Anglo Luchador, captain of Team TAL, has now been eliminated. Leaving only Lindsay Troy, the Queen of the Ring, the Big Game Hunter…

Richard Parker: Against Chandler Tsonda and Ivan Stanislav ohhhh myyyyy god Nick, this is crazy!!! This is absolutely crazy!!!

Lindsay Troy, with her guard ALL the way up, slowly steps through the ropes and into the ring as TAL rolls out, eliminated.

Ivan ROARS at Chandler Tsonda to tag him in. Ivan has been waiting years for this opportunity. He will not allow Tsonda to stand in the way of it. Chandler doesn’t want to tag out, and clearly has no intentions of tagging right now.

Nick Stuart: Is this going to be an argument, Richard? Could it be?

Richard Parker: Tsonda, now isn’t the time to be a glory hog. Okay? Tag in Ivan. The whole world wants to see this.

But he doesn’t.

And before Ivan can scream at Chandler some more?

CRACK!!!

CRACK!!!

CRACK!!!

CRACK!!!

CRACK!!!

CRACK!!!

CRACK!!!

CRACK!!!

CRACK!!!

CRACK!!!

Ten sequential chair shots to Ivan’s back.

Five from The Anglo Luchador.

Five from Blaze Claymore.

Ever see the Leaning Tower of Pisa? That’s what Ivan looked like during all ten of those chair shots.

Then, like an avalanche of snow, he falls to the floor.

And Blaze and TAL start laying waste to Ivan with those chairs.

Richard Parker: THIS IS A TRAVESTY!!!!

Nick Stuart: Mexico City disagrees with you, Richard!

Richard Parker: I don’t give a damn what Mexico City thinks!!!

It’s true, though. In fact, judging by the way they’re screaming their heads off with delight, one could say they more than simply disagree.

Meanwhile, Chandler Tsonda watches the beat down on Stanislav commence from his position inside the ring. He quickly realizes has a choice to make.

He can stop the beat down of his Squad Goals captain, and mortal enemy, Ivan Stanislav.

Or he can turn around and try to take the victory now by defeating Lindsay Troy.

And for Chandler Tsonda, well, that ain’t no choice at all.

He swivels on his heel, turns to face Lindsay Troy.

And the two of them lock up in the center of the ring.

RAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Outside the ring, once The Anglo Luchador and Blaze have decided that Ivan has been sufficiently rendered into minced meat, they drop the chairs and head up the ramp.

Back in the ring, Chandler has taken the upper hand in the initial lock up and captured Lindsay Troy with a side headlock! But Lindsay Troy reverses it with a bridge suplex!!! She maintains the bridge and keeps Tsonda’s shoulders down!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

KICKOUT BY TSONDA!!!

Nick Stuart: Lindsay Troy making sure Tsonda knows right away that he’s in a dangerous position sharing a ring with her.

Richard Parker: Something tells me Tsonda already knows that and doesn’t care one bit, Nick.

Immediately, Tsonda proves Richard’s suspicions correct.

Tsonda kips up to his feet and catches the Queen of the Ring in the chest with a picture perfect dropkick that sends her hurtling backwards. Tsonda charges into the turnbuckle she lands in, nails her with a knee to the midsection, before monkey flipping her out of the corner and right back to the center of the ring.

Tsonda wastes no time. He climbs up to the top rope. He measures the distance. The A-Lister poses like a true Model Citizen on the top rope for the fans, who give him an incredibly intense and mixed reaction. They love him as a competitor, but they hate what he represents tonight. In this very specific instance, they want him to lose. But they want him to do well.

He leaps off the top rope!!!

GUILLOTINE LEG DROP!!!

IT LANDS FLUSH ACROSS LINDSAY TROY!!!

HE MAKES THE COVER!!!

JIMMY TURNBULL COUNTS!!!

ONE!!!

Nick Stuart: Is this it!?!

TWO!!!

Nick Stuart: Have Team Ivan done it!?!

THREEEEEEE!!!!

Nick Stuart: NO!!! LINDSAY TROY KICKS OUT WITH NOT A THOUSANDTH OF A SECOND TO SPARE!!!

Richard Parker: Why have you forsaken me, Lord!?!

Because you’re a dickhead, Richard.

Chandler slams the mat with his fist in frustration. His back is killing him. Ivan is dead. It’s up to him to get this done.

He pulls Lindsay Troy up to his feet by her hair! He kicks her in the stomach!

RUNWAY VAULT BY TSONDA!!!

NO!!! Lindsay shoves him away, charges past him, springboards off the rope— RUNNING BACK FLIP DDT BY LINDSAY TROY TO CHANDLER TSONDA!!!!

Both of them lie wiped out on the mat.

Ivan lies, presumably dead, on the outside of the ring.

Finally, we see motion.

Lindsay Troy.

Slowly, oh so s l o w l y, she climbs up to one knee. And then to her feet, staggering backwards as she reaches them, throwing her hair back out of her face as she leans into the turnbuckle.

Behind Tsonda, she can see Ivan’s massive, pale bear paw grasp the ring apron.

She inhales sharply.

She can sense it.

The moment.

Chandler groggily starts swimming on the mat up towards his feet. Lindsay signals that she is ending this shit right here.

Chandler stands up.

QUEEN’S GAMBIT BY LINDSAY TROY LANDS FLUSH INTO CHANDLER TSONDA!!!

She pulls Tsonda up to his feet with all her might, positions him right where she needs him and—

Nick Stuart: THY KINGDOM COME!!! THY KINGDOM COME TO THE MODEL CITIZEN!!! JIMMY TURNBULL COUNTS!!!

Richard Parker: COUNT SLOWLY, TURNBULL!!!

ONE!!!

TWO!!!

THREEEEEEEEE!!!

Vince Howard: Ladies and Gentlemen, Chandler Tsonda has been eliminated!

Nick Stuart: We. Are. Down. To. Two!

Richard Parker: Yes we are Nick. And finally. Finally. After years of tormenting the Russian Bear, Lindsay Troy has to face the consequences of her devious ways!!!

Nick Stuart: Even if that WASN’T a complete re-write of history, which let’s be clear – it is – Ivan is barely in any shape to compete right now after he was brutalized at the hands of The Anglo Luchador and Blaze Claymore!

It’s true. Ivan Stanislav has lumbered his way into the ring in very painstaking fashion. If there was ever a body that could take, oh, 70 chair shots back to back, it was Ivan Stanislav’s.

But that was years ago.

Maybe decades.

Regardless, nonetheless, he now stands in the center of the ring.

Face to face.

With Lindsay Troy.

He snarls.

She winks in response.

SMACK!!!

Knife-edged chop by LT! Another! And another!

But Ivan sends his MASSIVE knee into her gut and crumples on her the mat.

The Russian Bear palms her face and picks her up to her feet.

She ELBOWS him right in the Adam’s apple for pulling that shit.

And he ELBOWS her in the eye in response!

Lindsay stumbles backwards and into the ropes, using the spring-forth momentum to send a diving dropkick to his knee.

It drops him. She bounces off the ropes again!

YAKUZA KICK—

NO!!!

IVAN CATCHES HER FOOT!!!

He grins at her with those teeth of his, still bloodstained from earlier in the night.

The Russian Bear explodes up to his feet, flipping Lindsay Troy’s leg, and incidentally, her entire body as he does so.

She crashes violently to the mat.

Nick Stuart: Richard it feels like if Ivan is going to win this, now is the time!

Richard Parker: Completely agree Nick. Just one question.

Nick Stuart: What’s that, Richard?

Richard Parker: Uh. What exactly is he doing?

Good question, Richard.

It seems like he’s about to do something very, very reckless.

He has dragged Lindsay Troy up to her feet, and brought her over to the turnbuckles.

He has climbed onto the first.

And onto the second.

The payload of his weight forces the second turnbuckle to point downward in an unnatural way.

Nick Stuart: Don’t… Ivan…

Richard Parker: Oh my god. Oh my god.

Ivan doesn’t pray.

He doesn’t cross his heart.

He looks out at the Mexico City crowd in something of a violent and tired haze.

The world goes quiet.

He takes a deep breath.

And he jumps.

RAAAAAAAAHHHHDIAIAUHWN2UWY2H28WUZYHSH2Y2GSJZUSHW!!!!!!

Richard Parker: HURRICAN-RUSSIA!!! HE DID IT!!! HE DID IT!!!

Nick Stuart: BUT LOOK!!! LOOK!!!

What is Nick Stuart saying to look at?

Well, let’s think about it for a moment.

A hurrican-russia is called that only because it can’t be called a hurricanrana.

It’s a fucking disaster, innit?

One does not perform a Hurrican-Russia thinking it’s going to be this picture perfect thing.

It’s done only insofar as it could potentially cause the greatest amount of punishment to the opponent.

But it could also.

You know.

Not.

And in this specific instance of the Hurrican-Russia, with Ivan’s exhausted body, and Lindsay’s light of foot?

Well, she landed in such a way that she could just lock her leg and —

Nick Stuart: The Divine Right is locked in! That Koji Clutch of Lindsay Troy’s and it is cinched in tight!!!

There are very few possible worlds where Ivan would ever tap out.

Even less where he would tap out to Lindsay Troy.

But it’s cinched in so tight that Ivan’s face has already turned pink!

Jimmy Turnbull lifts Ivan’s arm!

He keeps it in the air!

But then it… it slowly…

Just…

Loses its power and falls to the mat.

His face is now beet red in the clutches of the Divine Right.

Jimmy Turnbull lifts Ivan Stanislav’s hand once more and…

…

…

…

DING DING DING

Nick Stuart: YESSSSS!!!!! YESSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!

Vince Howard: Ladies and gentlemen…

Richard Parker: You gotta be kidding me!!!

Vince Howard: Ivan Stanislav has been eliminated. Lindsay Troy is our last competitor standing!!! Your winners are the Anglo Luchador, Blaze Claymore, Sage Pontiff, and Lindsay Troy!!!!

Nick Stuart: Ivan went for broke, there’s no question about that, but in the end, Richard? SHE’S THE QUEEN OF THE RING FOR A REASON!!!

Richard Parker: Let’s cut away from ringside before everyone sees my best Kermit the Frog impression.

We are left with the image of Lindsay Troy’s arm raised by Jimmy Turnbull as we cut away from ringside.

The lights go out.

And while the ambient light of the night sky above the legendary Estadio Azteca is enough to cast some light on the scene, it’s not enough to get anything but silhouettes. The crowd murmurs as a low droning hum hits the PA system and we await the arrival of Team Farthington.

On the PRIMEview, a series of highlights of Team Farthington’s exploits are shown. A Left Hand Larry from Danny Christie that put Luc Labelle’s lights out. Danny Christie hoisting the Alias Championship over his head, which he won the previous night.

Big John Pepper spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning and spinning Crash Jackson before Protecting The Parks. The many times he’s handed off his park ranger’s hat to a lucky fan at ringside.

Rhongoymniad after Rhongomyniad after Rhongomyniad from Coral Avalon to various opponents in both PRIME and around the world. The 2024 Wrestler of the Year.

An image of Cecilworth Farthington, the Universal champion, championship around his waist. Around him are images of every challenger that’s come for his championship in the past year. The 2025 Wrestler of the Year.

And we herald the arrival of the first man of Team Farthington with Neil Diamond’s classic “Sweet Caroline”. Fans got a good taste of the new Alias Champion last night when he defeated PRIME Hall of Famer and championship kingpin Tony Gamble, and now the former bare knuckle champion comes out to a strong ovation from the crowd. Carrying the Alias Championship in his hands and a mean mug on his face, he walks out with zero nonsense and every intention to destroy all that stands in his way.

Vince Howard: And now… introducing TEAM FARTHINGTON! First… from Wrexham, North Wales! He weighs in tonight at two hundred and fifteen pounds! HE IS NOW THE REIGNING ALIAS CHAMPION! “FAIR PLAAAAAY” DAAAAANNNNYYYY CHRISTIIIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!

Christie sets the Alias championship down on the ground as though it’s a line drawn, and shadowboxes for his introduction. He’s ready to go. The realest motherfucker in the room is ready to knock some motherfuckers senseless tonight.

As Christie stoops down to pick up his championship, he remains in place as “Sweet Caroline” fades. It’s then replaced by Natalie Imbruglia’s “Torn” and we get the arrival of… well, the Lasagna Boys. Toddrick and Miguel. Danny Christie watches in abject confusion as the Boys saunter out with big points towards the entryway. Big John Pepper emerges from behind the curtains in the same way that Godzilla might part a couple of skyscrapers on his way to pelvic thrusting a major metropolitan city to death. Behind him is Fred Dick, but someone was smart enough to take away his megaphone tonight. Or he forgot it. One or both of these could be true.

And that leaves Vince Howard with the tall task of introducing a tall tale for a tall-ass match.

Vince Howard: Next… hailing from Our Glorious U.S. National Parks! He weighs in tonight at three hundred and twenty-five pounds! He is the MAN! THE MYTH! THE LEGEND! HE IS BIIIIIIGGGGG! JOHNNNNNNNN!! PEPPPPPPPEEEEERRRRRRR!!!

He raised both his arms into the air upon his announcement. Meanwhile, to the side, Danny Christie can only stare at the cavalcade of dipshits that surround his first tag team partner in irritation.

The lights go back out, and the PRIMEview comes back alive.

At first, it’s just darkness. Then a single light floods the dark room, and the distinctive tones of the beginning of “Real Me” hit the PA system to get the fans on their feet. A man steps in front of the light, the backlighting framing him in silhouette. He walks towards the light with the camera following him. At first, it’s only following him by his feet (sit down Satan Jones), but then it slowly pans up. Familiar wrestling gear. A familiar slogan on an arm sleeve: “The Crownless Shall Again Be King.”

Eventually, the camera pans up to the back of his head and his bare shoulders. There’s black hair where there’d been blonde just a year ago, but people know the back of this man’s head by now, and they’re cheering in Mexico for him.

It lingers there for a few moments.

And then something is dropped over his shoulders. Something heavy. Something furry. Something… Well, you already know that it’s a big honkin’ fur cape with a couple of wolf heads mounted on it, because somebody is extra and always has been.

When the man turned to face the camera, it was a familiar forehead.

He winks for the camera, and then walks towards it.

The light fades out, and is replaced by just a few words.

CORAL AVALON
KING OF CONQUERORS

The fans explode, but not nearly as much as the stage. Pyrotechnics blast off in pillars as the former Universal Champion walks out from behind the curtains to a huge ovation. Since his departure a year ago, he’s collected the Bang! World Openweight Championship from Japan (now around his waist), the Ringerclub World Heavyweight Championship from Austria (also around his waist, above the Bang! title), and the Dauntless Cup Championship (being carried in his hand because it’s literally a trophy).

Avalon absorbs the cheers of the Mexican crowd, and raises the Dauntless Cup trophy over his head to more raucous cheers. And pyro. Can’t forget that.

Vince Howard: Next… currently residing in Seattle, Washington! He weighs in at two hundred and fourteen pounds! HE IS… THE KING! OF! CONQUERORS! HE IS… CORAAAAAAALLLLLLL AVALOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNN!!!

Avalon bumps fists with Big John Pepper, looks in incredulity at the Lasagna Boys as though he’s not sure what he’s looking at, nods respectfully (for some reason) at his one-time foe and challenger Fred Dick, and tries to bump fists with Danny Christie… who shrugs him off.

And then…

…There was one.

386 days and counting. 8 successful defenses and counting. Unquestionably the champion of the ReVival era of PRIME. His campaign at the top of PRIME will soon be without rival in either era. He needs no fancy preamble. His accomplishments speak for themselves.

Yet the pyro flares up for him all the same. Yet the familiar sounds of “Choke” by I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME hit the PA system. Yet the fans in Estadio Azteca are losing their minds just a day removed from the war that the champion fought against his fellow Gluemate in FLAMBERGE.

Cecilworth Farthington has arrived.

Universal Championship around his waist. A towel around his neck. He’s ready.

Vince Howard: And finally… from Buckinghamshire in England! He weighs in at one hundred and ninety-seven pounds! HE IS! THE CONGA CRUSHER! HE IS! THE FINANCIER OF THE GLUEMINATI! HE IS… THE REIGNING! PRIME! UNIVERSAL CHAMPION! CECILLLLLLLLLLLLWOOOOOOOORRRRRRTHHHHHH FAAAAAAAAARTHINGTOOOOOOOONNNNN!!!

He gives a look to each of his partners. To Christie. To Big John. And especially to Avalon.

And then he just… kinda walks to the ring. He doesn’t even linger. He’s already on his way to the ring.

Nick Stuart: A united entrance from Team Farthington tonight! Will it be enough to overcome the team Rob Williams put together?

Richard Parker: It’s a real treat to see Cecilworth twice in a row on back-to-back nights!

The quarter all enter the ring at the same time, and each of them seem ready to go.

Well, okay, Avalon needs a little time to get rid of all of those belts and his robe, and Pepper has a hat to deliver to a lovely young lady at ringside, and who the heck knows what Cecilworth’s up to right now?

Without warning, all the lights in the arena cut out.

Lightning flashes across the screen of the (whatever the fuck the tv is called) as a cool breeze is felt through the air.

The entrance ramp explodes in a shower of orange and teal fireworks – even some white ones just for the fuck of it.

“WOO HOO”

“Song 2”by Blur blasts through the PA as Bryan Dawkins skateboards from behind the curtain, hitting a wicked kickflip before coming to an abrupt stop.

(Record scratch)

BOOM! BLAP-BLAP! BAP-BOOM-BLAP!
BOOM! BLAP-BLAP! BAP-BOOM-BLAP!
BOOM! BLAP-BLAP! BAP-BOOM-BLAP!
BOOM! BLAP-BLAP! BAP-BOOM-BLAP!

The PA bumps with “Blouses Blue”by Konrad OldMoney and Sleep Steady. Light suddenly fills the arena as the PRIMEview powers up to a view of animated green and gold scales whooshing by. After a moment, a gilded DRAGON flies into view and ROARS on the screen.

KRACKA-BOOOOOOOOOM!!

The stage explodes into a flashing pillar of levin, accompanied by a colorful array of green, silver, and gold pyrotechnics. A series of spotlights arrange themselves into a triangular pattern, with the point of focus resting upon the head of the rampway.

When the pyro smoke clears, Kerry Kuroyama and Ami Troy flash into vision with a sick ass syncro cartwheel.

(Record scratch)

♫…

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

♫, ♫

♫…♫, ♫

♫…♫, ♫

♫…oh, shit.

OOH LA LA, AH OUI OUI

OOH LA LA, AH OUI OUI

OOH LA LA, AH OUI OUI

OOH LA LA, AH OUI OUI

As “ooh la la” by Run The Jewels featuring DJ Premier & Greg Nice blares through the speakers, teal and copper sparks shoot out around the stage. A series of nicknames flash across the screen:

PRIME WRESTLER OF THE YEAR 2023

THE BEARDED DRAGON

THE LIZARD KING

THE ACE

LE PROTAGONISTE

LE COURONNE TRIPLE

THE NECK COLLECTOR

F L A M B E R G E

The Frenchman breaks through the curtain with a gnarly flying jumpkick as the fans go fucking ape shit.

(Record scratch)

Richard Parker: OH come on.

The opening riff of “Man in the Box”by Alice In Chains rips through the arena. Fire lights up the entrance ramp as a manhole flies off a trap door that had been concealed. “The Legend” Rob Williams slowly rises from below the ramp, 5 Star Belt draped across his shoulder. The crowd actually seems into it, keeping their excitement from the first three teammates of Heathens in a Half Shell going.

The entire team stands shoulder to shoulder on the ramp, Williams and Flamberge on the outside. There’s a small space between Kerry and Dawkins, but the team looks composed. Solid.

Unified.

Nick Stuart: Williams seems a bit surprised that the fans are cheering for something he’s involved in. I’d say he looks a little emotional.

Richard Parker: There’s probably a ton of dust under the entrance ramp, Nick.

(Record scratch)

Richard Parker: For the LOVE OF GOD!

Familiar Voice Over PA: Go ninja, go ninja, go.

Nick Stuart: No way.

Fucking way, Nick Stuart.

Vanilla Ice steps into the space between Dawkins and Kerry.

Vanilla Ice: GO NINJA, GO NINJA, GO!

The fans pick up the chant. It’s absolute fucking bananas. People are throwing their children.

Nick Stuart: I cannot believe they actually got Vanilla Ice.

Richard Parker: He’s a lot easier to book now, Nick. Had him at my nephew’s bar-mitzvah recently.

DING DING

Nick Stuart: Who knows what we’re going to see here tonight, these teams…

Richard Parker: Cecilworth is a Teamstein. An Einstein of team building.

Nick Stuart: He could be, Richard. This Williams team has so many different alliegences…

The two teams are in the corner deciding who will enter first. The back and forth rolls to Kerry Kuroyama standing across the ring from Coral Avalon. The crowd begins to murmur, Cecilworth Farthington is on the outside clapping for Coral, a bandage wrapped across the crown of his forehead. Big John Pepper is flexing, and Danny Christie is a bit worn down from the night before.

Nick Stuart: Both teams electing fresh team members here. This elevation is brutal on the body, and Kuroyama and Avalon leading the way is a really high IQ play from both teams.

Richard Parker: I’ve been out of breath since the first match on night one.

On team Williams’ side, of course FLAMBERGE’s arm is tight to his chest from the night before. Kerry and Williams are both fresh, while Dawkins is walking slightly stiff legged with pineapple themed butterfly bandages on his face. Kerry and Coral come to the center of the ring and give a brief handshake and a nod before retreating to their corners. On the outside Ami Troy is riding on Hank’s shoulders cheering Kerry on, while Hank is below clapping presumably for Coral.

Nick Stuart: Two great former Fivestar champions lead us off.

Coral and Kerry meet in the center of the ring. Lockup, Kerry transitions to a waist lock, Coral peels his hand away and pulls up with an armbar. Kerry rolls forward and twists his arm away from Coral. Kuroyama comes up and transitions behind Coral and manages to wrap Coral’s wrist, he spins Coral with wrist control but the former Universal champion ducks under.

Nick Stuart: Great wrestling to start us off here.

Coral spins but Kerry is a step ahead and blasts Avalon across the chest with an open hand slap to the chest. Coral fires back with a european uppercut, Kuroyama fires back with a slap, Coral an uppercut again in return. Kuroyama stops the madness and whips Coral into the ropes, Coral comes with a Yakuza kick, but Kerry slides on his stomach under. One move he’s back to his feet and both men come back off the ropes, this time dueling Yakuza kicks connect and both men spin and fall on his face.

Richard Parker: This is fast.

Nick Stuart: These two are electric together.

Kerry and Coral both roll their way to the neutral corners. Both are back to their feet. The two meet in the center with a lock up, back and forth the two go. Coral is able to get a little lower than Kerry and drive him to the ropes. Williams manages to slap Kerry on the shoulder while holding the tag rope and comes into the ring with a right hand to Coral’s mouth. Barlow acknowledges the tag with a slap that surprises Kerry who stops running and walks out of the ring looking quizzically at Williams. Rob with another right hand to the forehead that sends Coral stumbling. The tempo difference is immediate, Williams with a left hand followed by a kick to the stomach that doubles Coral over. The Five Star Champion drops to the mat and lets a stiff left fly that connects with Coral’s jaw. The crack is loud and Coral stumbles backwards. Big John Pepper slaps Avalon on the back and stretches the ropes as he comes through them.

Nick Stuart: These tags are coming fast and furious.

Richard Parker: Here comes BJP!

Williams is a bit wide eyed as the big man sprints forward surprisingly quickly, he grabs Rob and drives him back to the ropes. The two bounce off and Big John Pepper spins a very nonagreeable Williams to the canvas with a belly to belly suplex. Joe Fontaine’s face can be seen making an “oooh” face as Pepper hooks the leg and Barlow drops for the count.

ONE!

FLAMBERGE is through the ropes and smashes Pepper in the side of the head with a boot. BJP is a bit shocked and Danny Christie comes through the ropes quickly. The Lizard King brushes him off and walks back to his corner. Pepper gets to his feet as Williams slowly follows. Rob stumbles to the center and catches a huge right forearm across the bridge of the nose sending him reeling backwards. FLAMBERGE slaps Williams on the shoulder as he gets to the ropes and slowly steps through.

Nick Stuart: FLAMBERGE has a different pace to him.

Richard Parker: I think he’s trying to slow this sprint down for a second.

Pepper pivots to the Frenchman as Williams heads through the ropes. The two stare across the ring at each other before Pepper comes forward. FLAMBERGE won’t be cornered and slips away, jabbing a low kick to Pepper’s inside calf on the way by. Pepper steps through and comes at FLAMBERGE but eats a knee to the shoulder for his trouble. Slightly off target, but it still stumbles the giant. Pepper wobbles backwards and Christie tags Pepper.

Nick Stuart: The new Alias champion steps through the ropes.

Christie steps through the ropes and right to Flambo. Christie has his hands up and throws a quick left jab. FLAMBERGE dodges the left hand, the jab is reloaded and fires leaning to the left, the matrix dodge comes to the right, Christie gains ground with the jab but FLAMBERGE gives the ground just as deftly. The next jab comes to the spot FLAMBO’s head just was, the head comes back to it’s former position and a big right hook collides with FLAMBERGE’s unprotected jaw.

Nick Stuart: HUGE SHOT FROM THE ALIAS CHAMPION! HUGE RIGHT HAND!

Richard Parker: That stings!

Joe is now making the old man ‘ouuffff’ meme face, before running to check on his floored friend. FLAMBERGE is back to his feet in an instant as Christie rushes him looking for other right hands, FLAMBERGE covers up as Christie unloads rights and left haymakers to his forearms. He goes to the body and FLAMBERGE stumbles backwards. Dawkins takes the opportunity and comes through the ropes. Dawkins comes through the ropes and whips Christie to the mat with a vicious single leg that transforms into the double leg.

Nick Stuart: We’ve seen them all in the opening moments! Team Williams is operating like a well oiled machine.

Christie isn’t a stranger to a fight, but Dawkins lands in his guard. Christie covers as Bryan throws a hammerfist to test the defense. The former Intense champion brings another big right hand down, but this one goes to Christie’s stomach. The arms come down and Dawkins grabs it in an instant. He tries to spin the arm behind Christie into a kimura, but Christie yanks Dawkins down to his chest and shifts him away from being able to put power into the lock. Dawkins drives his wounded forehead into Christie’s skull while letting the kimura go and driving a right forearm into Christie’s stomach.

Richard Parker: Counters on counters.

Nick Stuart: Christie’s in trouble here after going toe to toe with FLAMBERGE.

Danny tries to get a foot in between Dawkins’ thigh and the back of his. He finally manages to wiggle it in and push Dawkins up and off of him, but Dawkins rides the bucking expertly, using his good leg to balance himself, and come back down in a better position. He tries for half guard, and goes to isolate an arm but Christie manages to maneuver his way to a rope and grab it. Barlow steps in and separates the two men, Dawkins gets to his feet and he turns around to a hand clap.

Richard Parker: The Universal Champion is here.

Dawkins wiggles his arms in a warm up motion and ends by giving a little hang loose to Farthington before the two begin. It’s a blur of grappling. Collar and elbow, Dawkins transitions quickly to a hammerlock. Farthington pulls his arm down and steps over, taking Dawkins’ wrist and twisting it into an arm wrench. Dawkins front rolls forward out of the wrench and looks for a single leg, Farthington falls forward into a sprawl and grabs Dawkins around the waist.

Nick Stuart: Takedown attempt from Dawkins, Farthington sprawls and down to the mat they go.

Farthington manages to yank Dawkins’ leg off the ground sending the two to the canvas. Dawkins manages to catch himself, but Farthington tries to rotate from a north south to Dawkins’ back but Bryan flips himself over onto his back and tries to catch Farthington’s arm in the act with an armbar. Cecilworth is shocked at the dangerous predicament he finds himself in with Dawkins on his arm and drives a boot into Dawkins’ forehead to get him away.

Nick Stuart: I think Dawkins surprised Farthington there.

Richard Parker: Cecilworth saw it coming the whole time. He’s a Teamstein.

Dawkins smirks as he rolls to his feet. He 180’s and throws a blind forearm. It smashes into Cecilworth’s shoulder and pushes him backwards. Dawkins’ momentum drives the two men into the Williams’ corner. Rob takes a quick cheap shot into Cecilworth’s kidney and catches a warning from Barlow. Dawkins comes to the corner and blasts Cecilworth with a yakuza kick across the mouth. Dawkins hangs on the rope for a second with his knee over it, adjusting his brace. Cecilworth’s head snaps backwards, the low-high combination took the air away.

Dawkins wraps Cecilworth around the waist and spins with him, driving him to the canvas with a belly to belly suplex. Not as impactful as the one on Williams’ earlier, but Dawkins comes down right on Cecilworth’s chest. Dawkins starts immediately working to isolate one of Cecilworth’s arms, but the adrenaline kicks in for Cecilworth and he flings his hips up on Dawkins and grabs an arm. Cecilworth tries to alligator roll Dawkins to the ground while also attempting to dislocate his shoulder. Dawkins dives into it, but drags Cecilworth away from the center with the dive. He reaches out and finds the outstretched hands of Kuroyama.

Nick Stuart: Kerry Kuroyama and Cecilworth Farthington!

Farthington drops the hold and rolls backwards to his feet. He clutches his chest, finally trying to regain some air from the last few minutes. He retreats back and tags a refreshed Avalon in and we’re back where we started.

Nick Stuart: Well. That was a magnificent sprint of wrestling…

Richard Parker: I need an inhaler.

Avalon and Kerry hit the ring like two missiles. Kuroyama looks for a short arm lariat, Coral ducks under and comes off the ropes with a big drop kick that sends Kerry to the mat. He rolls to his feet as Coral springs up with a head full of steam, he whips a snap kick into Kerry’s front leg as he rises, then another. Kerry winces and ducks down, Coral pounces and tries to lift him with a tiger style lift. Kerry manages to stop the lift with his boot and slides behind Coral. He lifts Coral for a german, but Avalon kicks out frantically stopping the momentum of Kuroyama. Kerry tries to reset, but Avalon’s snuck an arm between his, and rips himself out, he slides behind Kerry and plants him to the mat with a poisonrana before Kuroyama can react.

Nick Stuart: Poisonrana from Avalon!

OOOOHHHHH!!!

The crowd roars as a replay is shown in the giant stadium of Kuroyama being spiked on his neck. Avalon retreats to his corner and takes a moment to catch his breath in the altitude, he slaps Pepper’s outstretched hand and the big man comes roaring through the ropes. Ami is directing Hank to ringside so she can shake the middle rope and yell for Kerry. The Lasagna Boys and Fred have chosen to stay as far away from their corner as possible because of just how terrifying Ami is riding the shoulders of a well mannered, happy, mute giant.

Richard Parker: Look at this teamsmanship!

Nick Stuart: That’s not a word.

Richard Parker: Prove it.

Pepper sprints into the center of the ring and goes for a big splash, but Kerry manages to roll out of the way of the enormous BJP, and he crashes to the mat. Pepper rolls to his feet and Kerry manages to make his way to his corner and tag in FLAMBERGE. The Lizard King comes in looking to restore parity. A left jab whizzes in and smashes Pepper in the eye, but Pepper charges FLAMBERGE through the damage and smashes him back into his own corner.

Richard Parker: OW! OW! OUCH!

Pepper slumps down on FLAMBERGE’s shoulder and blinks rapidly, trying to clear the damage his eye just took while FLAMBERGE tries to move a literal mountain. Flambo pushes Pepper off of him, but the big man slams himself back into FLAMBERGE, and in turn, the Lizard King back to the corner.

Nick Stuart: Big shot from Pepper!

Pepper plants a huge hand on Flambo’s neck, and pulls a hand back and sends a blistering open hand slap across the Frenchman’s chest. Joe Fontaine is shown making another stupid meme face while Pepper pulls back and sends another big giant right hand across FLAMBERGE’s chest. This time FLAMBERGE makes the stupid meme face before wandering his way out of the corner at Big John’s mercy holding his upper chest.

Richard Parker: Those big mits of Pepper sting!

Nick Stuart: He’s got catchers mitts for hands Richard, of course it stings.

FLAMBERGE stumbles down the ropes, and the big man runs up to the reeling FLAMBERGE and lifts him from behind around the waist. He stands there, FLAMBERGE kicking and flailing trying to get away. His fingers start making their way to Pepper’s eyes, and BJP tosses FLAMBERGE backwards over his head, and the Lizard King’s skull bounces off his teams bottom rope. Hank’s face is very confused while ten-feet tall Ami grimaces.

Nick Stuart: That fall was awful for FLAMBERGE! He has to be seeing stars!

Richard Parker: That does a lot more than sting.

The french phenom rolls on the mat clutching the back of his head as BJP tags in Danny Christie. Fontaine is checking on FLAMBERGE, but Christie yanks Flambo away from the neutral corner and to the center of the ring. Fontaine is clearly not happy as Christie drops down on FLAMBERGE with a right hand. Joe begins to antagonize Barlow from the outside. Ami chirps in from Hank’s shoulders.

Nick Stuart: FLAMBERGE is down and Christie looking for some ground and pound.

Danny drops down on FLAMBERGE looking for a mount, he throws a right hand that tries to stab between FLAMBERGE’s forearm’s. The former Universal Champion realizes the situation he’s in with Christie swinging down, and manages to buck Christie off. Danny stumbles back and tries to dive back in, but the Frenchmen strikes like lighting and springs up from the mat, grabbing Christie around the neck. Christie lifts FLAMBERGE from the mat, but the frenchman goes for the ride, still trying to lock his arms together. Danny manages to fight the neck attempt off and sends FLAMBERGE into the ropes. Flambo bounces off and comes back into a sprinting Danny Christie who levels FLAMBERGE to the mat with a superman punch.

Nick Stuart: The Alias Champion just smoked FLAMBERGE!

FLAMBERGE stumbles back through the ropes and flips to the outside. Christie follows him through the ropes, Rob comes roaring around the apron and dives off spearing Christie as he’s about to go for FLAMBERGE. Fontaine manages to stealth in and sneak Flambo out of the chaos Rob Williams has created. Christie sprawls across the floor mats. The Five Star Champion jumps to his feet as he turns his face finds the boot of Cecilworth Farthington, driving an absolutely wicked penalty kick into his face.

Richard Parker: TEAMSMANSHIP!

Nick Stuart: I’ve never hated you more.

Williams stumbles backwards, inside the ring Ashley Barlow is being forced to turn her back and yell at the lasagna boys and Fred Dick. Kerry is shouting at the Lasagna Boys to get the hell out of the ring, and Fred Dick jumps up onto the apron and begins yelling at Kuroyama. Christie makes his way to his feet and finds Bryan Dawkins dropping off the apron with a double axe handle.

Nick Stuart: Welp.

Richard Parker: It was fun while it lasted.

BJP has seen enough and has lumbered his way across as has Coral. Kerry takes notice and sprints across the ring and shoves BJP down off the apron to the floor. Cecilworth very proud of a good booting, finally notices the Dawkins addition. He drops down to the floor, Avalon and Kuroyama are battling on the apron.

Nick Stuart: What are these two idiots doing.

Richard Parker: Walking around the ring like human spiders running from Ashley Barlow?

Barlow finally calls for some help from the back, Kerry smashes Avalon with a forearm, Coral hunches down on the rope. Kerry bends Avalon down and tries to wrap his arms around Coral’s waist. Avalon drives a sharp shoulder into Kerry’s stomach backing him off. Williams picks himself off the floor and sees what’s going on with the Apex and Avalon.

Nick Stuart: This is a real mess.

Richard Parker: It has really devolved.

Coral tries to throw another shoulder, but finds himself being lifted off the apron on the shoulders of Rob Williams in the electric chair position. Dawkins picks Christie up and sends him careening into the barricade. Big John Pepper charges towards that side of the ring. Dawkins turns around and is met by BJP grabbing him and launching him into the barricade. Cecilworth looks pleased with himself until the lizard strikes. FLAMBERGE comes out of nowhere and leaps up onto Pepper’s back and locks in a sleeperhold.  Pepper begins flailing.

Nick and Richard have gone silent. There’s nothing to say. Coral is raining shots down into Williams’ forehead trying to get down, the Williams tries to oblige him by falling backwards, Big John Pepper spins with FLAMBERGE just in time and shoves Avalon back up in the air as Williams tries to fall down. Kerry, standing on the apron has no idea where to jump in, so he just jumps.

Nick Stuart: What is happening.

Richard Parker: I have no idea.

Dawkins and Christie climb to their feet, Christie spins and hits Dawkins with a right hand, Bryan stumbles backwards. Ami Troy has finally had enough of Lasagnamayhem. The Boys have finally left the ring, and Ami is directing Hank towards the lasagna boys. Ashley Barlow is looking out at the madness, very confused about what’s even going on. Pepper pulls Avalon off of Rob’s shoulders and sets him down gently as Kuroyama crashes into him, sending him smashing into the barricade again.

Nick Stuart: Dive from Kuroyama!

The Lasagna Boys are fleeing from Hank, backpeddling as Hank slowly walks forward. Dawkins and Christie are exchanging blows, Christie punching away, the Lasagna Boys back into Christie sending him stumbling into Dawkins. The Hawaiian stumbles backwards into the waiting arms of Cecilworth Farthington. Cecilworth wraps Dawkins around the waist, but Dawkins flashes an elbow into Cecilworth’s mouth. It’s Cecilworth’s turn to stumble backwards.

Nick Stuart: Coral might be the only one with any sense.

Richard Parker: You know that’s a lie.

Kerry is slamming Pepper in the back of the head with forearms, he rips the giant up from the barricade, he steps back and runs forward, smashing Pepper in the neck with a yakuza kick sending him flipping over the barricade. Kerry almost goes over, but spots Cecilworth backing towards him. He grabs Farthington around the waist and attempts to german suplex him over the barricade. Dawkins decides he has Christie in front of him, it was better to attack forward. He runs forward and hits Christie with a twisting neck breaker.

Nick Stuart: Christie’s down!

Avalon is standing on the apron, his eyes darting around at the chaos. Dawkins’ head is on a swivel and he spots Avalon, jumping up to the apron. The Lasagna Boys run over and grab Cecilworth’s hands to stop him from being thrown over the barricade. Williams back to his feet stops the boys from delaying by swinging his arm between the two. Cecilworth starts to fly, but BJP stands up behind him and catches Cecilworth.

FLAMBO dropped from Pepper’s neck during the Kerry dive, and finds himself now face to face with Farthington. FLAMBERGE rips a right hand into Cecilworth and the two resume their battle from the night before. Coral catches Dawkins coming around the turnbuckle and manages to catch him with a surprise knee to the face. Dawkins stumbles backwards as Williams rushes up to the apron and tries to grab Coral Avalon from behind. Coral spins with a kick to Williams’ midsection. That drops Williams to the apron, he rolls off holding his midsection and is face to face with Danny Christie. Williams kicks him square in the nuts.

Nick Stuart: HEY!

Christie has a delayed reaction, and then he reaches down and hunches over. Williams is on him in an instant, and plants him to the floor mat with a DDT. Cecilworth and FLAMBERGE have settled on exhausted grappling against the barricade. Williams gets to his feet, his eyes flashing back and forth, he locks onto the grappling contest and beelines for it. Barlow has her hands in the air. Dawkins comes back at Coral on the apron with a knee of his own that catches Coral in the mouth. Avalon stumbles backwards, trying not to fall into the snake pit that is the arena floor currently.

Richard Parker: The floor is lava.

Nick Stuart: Then everyone’s dead Richard.

Pepper grabs Kuroyama around the waist from behind and elevates him into the air. Kerry is kicking and struggling, Pepper slams him over the barricade with a belly to back suplex. Pepper lands on Kerry’s back and pushes himself up off that back tattoo. Williams kicks Farthington in the ribs and FLAMBERGE takes immediate control, whipping Farthington into the apron. Williams follows it up with a short arm clothesline against the apron. Big John Pepper grabs Kerry off the ground and lifts him in the air.

Nick Stuart: Kuroyama is way up!

Richard Parker: OH! THAT’S NO GOOD!

Dawkins grabs the stunned Avalon and backs him to the turnbuckle. Avalon tries to push Dawkins away, but Dawkins sets Coral up on the second rope. Coral stands up on the middle rope and kicks Dawkins in the chest, Bryan loses his balance and falls into the pit. He stumbles backwards and stumbles over Danny Christie getting to his feet. Dawkins tries to head towards Coral, but Christie swings from the floor and absolutely smashes Dawkins in the mouth with a sucker punch of a right hand. Pepper still has Kuroyama elevated in a powerslam position and he walks over the barricade with Kuroyama elevated.

Nick Stuart: STILL UP!

Richard Parker: THE ELEVATION UP THERE! THE AIR IS SO THIN!

Ami Troy and Hank have been gifted a magnificent way to close the gap with the Lasagna Boys. In Ami Troy’s hands is the ever trusty, alien metal forged 7 iron. She rides Hank, who begins a soft jog towards Miguel and Todrick. The 7 iron is high above Ami’s head as she brings it down. Pepper has Kuroyama in the air, FLAMBERGE jumps to the apron and begins walking quickly in the direction of Coral Avalon. The King of Conquerors surveys the situation, he checks behind him to see FLAMBERGE out of the corner of his eye. Cecilworth stumbles off the apron shot and Williams comes behind him to throw him into the barricade, but Cecilworth reverses it and sends Williams crashing in. Rob bounces back off of a fucking barricade with hard lariat to Cecilworth’s chest that stumbles him backwards.

Nick Stuart: Rob Williams has beaten Cecilworth before!

Richard Parker: That was years ago! Teamsmanship!

Coral Avalon has one choice, he steps up to the top rope and jumps. YOLO right?

Nick Stuart: CARNWENNEN! CARNWENNEN!

The diving stomp smashes into Kuroyama’s chest. Big John Pepper throws Kerry at the same time, the boots spike Kerry into the ground and Coral is launched into the air off of the Apex, literally and figuratively, and Big John snatches him out of the air. Danny Christie turns around into a boot from Rob Williams. Fred Dick currently wishes he’d had his nuts cut off instead of his penis, as Joe Fontaine decides that when total chaos is happening, you might as well take your shots. Dawkins gets to his feet and goes for Avalon with right hands. Farthington turns around and cuts him off with a boot to the midsection. Dawkins fires back with a right hand, and a huge belly to belly to Farthington on the floor. Williams rolls Christie into the ring after driving a knee into his face, discarding him to turn back towards Farthington and Pepper.

Nick Stuart: This is mayhem.

Christie starts to head towards the ropes, and FLAMBERGE has a rather brilliant idea. He cuts Christie off by trying to rip his neck from his head with a wicked roundhouse kick as Christie approached the ropes. Danny stumbles backwards into the ring and FLAMBERGE is on him in an instant in the center of the ring. He wraps his arms around Christie’s neck and locks in the Marie Antionette in the center of the ring. Ashley Barlow does the only thing she can do during a submission attempt from two legal men in a match.

Nick Stuart: THIS IS BAD! CHRISTIE’S CAUGHT AND HIS TEAM DOESN’T KNOW!

Williams spins and runs into Pepper and Farthington screaming like a madman. Dawkins jumps up off the floor and attacks from the other side. There is no help coming for Danny Christie. The screams of the Lasagna Boys echo as Danny Christie realizes the predicament and taps out. Barlow jumps to her feet and calls for a bell.

DING DING DING

Vince Howard: Danny Christie has been eliminated from Team Farthington.

Everything stops. The arena is stunned. Williams and Dawkins immediately high five and then turn towards Kerry. Who is absolutely crushed on the outside.

Nick Stuart: They might have got the elimination but…

Richard Parker: That looked like it really hurt…

Ami Troy takes notice of Kerry and stops bludgeoning lasagna boys and runs to check on Kerry who is rolling around on the ground holding his ribs. Coral, Farthington and Pepper are shocked. FLAMBERGE jumps out and joins his team around Kerry. They slowly start bringing him up with Ami’s help to his feet. Team Farthington retreats away from the situation back to the neutral corner. The two teams huddle and discuss options. Coral gives a nod to everyone and volunteers for the first go, while FLAMBERGE smirks at him from across the ring. He waves the rest of his team off and grins at Coral.

Nick Stuart: Kerry is down, Christie is gone. It’s four-three, but we’ll see if all four from Williams can go.

Richard Parker: Teamstein.

Nick Stuart: More words that aren’t real.

Richard Parker: Were shorkpwining it.

Fontaine gives Richard a cut it out sign, as FLAMBERGE and Coral collide in the center of the ring. FLAMBERGE rips a right hand into Avalon, and then a left. Barlow is officiating very closely, Enemigos have arrived for the Lasagna Boys and Fred Dick. Ami has resumed her perch on Hank’s shoulders, mostly to talk to Kerry, who is leaning on the corner with his face down. Williams and Dawkins are cheering FLAMBERGE on. Avalon gets his hands up, but FLAMBERGE tries to split them with a quick knee, Coral manages to stuff it with two hands sending Flambo looking for a new line of attack.

Coral doesn’t give him the opening, he pivots behind Flambo and smashes him to the mat with a rotating german suplex, that ends in Team Farthington’s corner. FLAMBERGE tries to get to his feet holding his neck, but Coral is already there and rushes in and kicks Flambo in the midsection. FLAMBERGE folds in half and Coral strikes suddenly. He hooks both of FLAMBERGE’s arms behind him, and the youngest Universal Champion is lifted in the tiger lift, but he rotates all the way around. Joe is horrified.

Nick Stuart: EXCALIBUR! EXCALIBUR TO FLAMBERGE!

Richard Parker: OH MY GOD! CORAL AVALON IS AN ASSASSIN!

FLAMBERGE’s skull spikes off the canvas, there’s no time for a second move. He’s in the corner, and Avalon dives for the cover. Barlow drops to the mat to count.

ONE!

TWO!

….

……..

…………

KICKOUT!

Nick Stuart: FLAMBERGE almost got caught by Coral Avalon.

Dawkins and Williams arrive at the last second as well, Pepper and Farthington come into the ring but Barlow breaks the four up right away sending them back to their corners. FLAMBERGE rolls to his corner in the chaos, and Bryan Dawkins steps through the ropes and slaps FLAMBERGE to tag in.

Nick Stuart: Dawkins takes the mantle, FLAMBERGE is still on the sidelines.

Fontaine sprints over talking to Flambo and checking on him. FLAMBERGE stays laying on the canvas and looking at the sky. Avalon accepts a tag from Pepper who steps into the ring. Barlow directs the two men and they head to the center of the ring. Dawkins comes in with a kick to Pepper’s inner thigh, Pepper stumbles forward trying to grab Dawkins but Bryan manages to slip behind.

Nick Stuart: Dawkins is quick.

Dawkins tries to make a dive for Pepper’s leg, but Dawkins can’t get him up and Pepper brings a big left hand across Dawkins’ face. Dawkins stumbles backwards, stunned. Pepper rushes Dawkins in the corner and smashes him against the turnbuckles. Dawkins stumbles out, and Pepper runs behind and spins Dawkins around and slams his hand against his neck. Dawkins is shocked, eyes wide and is lifted high into the sky by Big John Pepper. Dawkins is spiked off the canvas, Pepper runs into the ropes and elbows Rob Williams off the apron and down to the floor. He comes back and stops, standing on Bryan Dawkins’ very injured and hurt chest. He stands there, waiting.

Richard Parker: THAT IS EXCRUCIATING TO WATCH!

Pepper finally steps off, as Dawkins rolls over clutching at his stomach. Pepper stops on the other side and turns, dropping a big splash on Dawkins’ chest. Williams jumps to his feet on the outside, and jumps back on the apron just as Big John turns around and grabs Dawkins by the legs and begins airplane spinning him. Williams runs through the ropes and slams himself into BJP, sending Dawkins skipping across the canvas. Williams keeps swinging until Barlow directs Williams back to his corner with counts. Cecilworth gives a shrug and smashes Dawkins in the side of the head with a casual boot to the side of the head.

Nick Stuart: HEY!

Richard Parker: TEAMSMANSHIP! IT’S ALL HERE IN THE TEAMSMANSHIP HANDBOOK!

Cecilworth just walks back to the corner, while Pepper resumes the airplane spin. Dawkins goes round and round, Pepper catches him as Williams turns around and drives him to the mat. Williams tries to dive into the ring but Coral comes sprinting through the ropes and catches Williams in the stomach with a knee as Barlow drops to count.

ONE!

TWO!

….

……..

…………..

THREE!

DING DING DING

Barlow calls for the bell, as Vince Howard jumps on the microphone.

Vince Howard: Bryan Dawkins has been eliminated.

Richard Parker: Teamstein!

Nick Stuart: That’s huge for Team Farthington. Even the odds.

Richard Parker: More than that! Kerry isn’t right, neither is FLAMBERGE!

Kerry is still slouched, FLAMBERGE has made it to a knee, Williams nods, and steps between the ropes and attacks Big John Pepper before Vince Howard can finish talking. Right hands are quick and brutal. Barlow is almost knocked over. Pepper rolls to his corner and Avalon makes the tag. Williams chases Pepper out of the ring, but Avalon swings a roundhouse kick into Williams’ face. Rob stumbles backwards, and Coral grabs Rob’s wrist pulling him in for a ripcord knee. Rob stuffs the knee with his free hand and tries to rip his arm free, Coral transitions to an arm wrench.

Nick Stuart: Coral is such an incredible talent.

Richard Parker: Assassin.

Coral backs Rob Williams into his corner.

An animal in a corner.

This is probably a bad idea.

Rob throws an elbow backwards smashing a surprised Farthington in the mouth, Pepper catches a right hand, Coral wasn’t prepared for the tasmanian devil defense and eats a right hand. Rob fights his way out of the corner, driving Coral to the center of the ring with right hands. He grabs Coral by the wrist and sends him flying into a neutral corner. Coral hits so hard he comes stumbling back, and Rob snaps Coral over his head with a snap brain buster. Coral’s head spikes off the mat, and he pops to his feet stumbling into the ropes and then back onto his face. Williams jumps to his feet shouting, and surprisingly the crowd is cheering for this. But this match is insane. So it’s fine.

Nick Stuart: Rob Williams is on fire!

Richard Parker: He’s a maniac! Arrest him!

The Five Star Champion doesn’t let the former rest, he runs over and lifts Coral to his feet. He hooks his arm over his shoulder again but he rotates in a flurry and slams Coral to the canvas with Old Time Rock and Roll. Coral is smashed with the cutter, and the crowd is silent. Rob Williams spins Coral over and pins him.

ONE!

TWO!

Big John Pepper breaks up the pinfall with a boot to the side of Williams’ skull. Williams rolls to his feet, and charges a Pepper being ushered out by Barlow and smashes him in the back of the head. Pepper turns around and grabs Williams by the neck, and starts to lift him off the ground for a chokeslam. Barlow stops the commotion with a count, and Pepper backs off while Williams drops to the ground holding his neck. Coral made his way to his feet, albeit, groggily. Williams rushes Coral again, Avalon is half shoved to the canvas by Williams. Rob dives in, but Coral reacts in an instant.

Nick Stuart: Vortigern’s Pillory!

Rob panics, the pressure on his arm is instant, Coral wraps the arm up expertly and Rob feels an unexpected weak slap from his corner.

Nick Stuart: KUROYAMA!

Kerry Kuroyama grits through the pain and rumbles through the ropes holding his arms to his chest. He smashes Avalon with a running forearm to the temple that rocks the former Universal Champion. Kerry stumbles to his feet clutching his chest.

Nick Stuart: Kerry’s looking to get this over with!

Coral rolls to his knees, Kerry drives a knee with everything he has into the side of Avalon’s head. Kerry, on pure adrenaline, snaps Coral up into a fireman’s carry. He winces and stumbles forward, but he brings Coral down with him.

Nick Stuart: KUROYAMA DRIVER II! KUROYAMA DRIVER II!

Coral smashes off the canvas, and Kerry rolls on the ground clutching his chest. Kerry hooks Avalon’s leg and Barlow counts. FLAMBERGE charges into the ring with Williams to stop Farthington and Pepper.

ONE!

TWO!

….

………

………………

THREE!

DING DING DING 

Vince Howard: CORAL AVALON HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

Richard Parker: NO! NO! HOW!? HE WAS DEAD!?

Nick Stuart: Kerry’s still not in good shape…

Kerry clutches his ribs in agony as he gets to his feet. The three huddle, and Williams steps through the rope while Kerry returns to the outside. Big John Pepper steps through the ropes for Team Farthington. Williams calls for Cecilworth, but Cecilworth waves him off with a smile.

Richard Parker: This isn’t good, Nick.

Nick Stuart: No it isn’t.

Pepper rushes Williams with a big forearm, and then drives him into the corner with a bullrush. Williams manages to spin off the turnbuckle with the big man and starts peppering him in the side of the head with right hands. Pepper is rocked and stumbles down the ropes, Williams is like a dog, he kicks at Pepper’s thighs, driving him into the Williams’ corner. FLAMBERGE takes a cheap shot across Pepper’s face that sends Pepper back the opposite direction and into a kick to the midsection from Williams. Rob goes for the DDT, but Pepper throws Williams halfway across the ring.

Nick Stuart: Pepper is strong.

Richard Parker: Very. Very strong.

Pepper rumbles forward and grabs Rob around the throat and goes to lift him, Rob jabs BJP in the eye with his thumb. Pepper stumbles back clutching his eye and Rob rushes forward for a lariat, but Pepper manages to see him with his good eye and send Williams careening into the Team Farthington corner and Cecilworth Farthington’s outstretched boot. It smashes into Williams’ face and he stumbles backwards into an outstretched hand of Big John Pepper.

Nick Stuart: Up goes Williams!

Williams goes for the eyes, but Pepper caught the arm that Coral had already briefly armbarred midair. He holds Williams in the air, and then brings him down with a full fall slam to the canvas. Williams bounces off the canvas. Fred Dick runs in from the crowd at this moment and uppercuts FLAMBERGE below the belt.

Williams goes for the eyes, but Pepper caught the arm that Coral had already briefly armbarred midair. He holds Williams in the air, and then brings him down with a full fall slam to the canvas. Williams bounces off the canvas. Fred Dick runs in from the crowd at this moment and uppercuts FLAMBERGE below the belt.

Nick Stuart: WHAT THE HELL!

Richard Parker: HE’S BACK!

Fred is pointing and yelling at Fontaine as a second swarm of Enemigos engulf him. Fred is screaming and shouting as Joe dives into the pile of mayhem with a Jolf club. Cecilworth sprints across the ring and smashes Kerry with a Yakuza kick that sends him flying to the outside, and crashing chest first into the barrier. FLAMBERGE is crouched in the corner holding his stomach, and slowly rolls off the apron.

Richard Parker: Gotta make lemons out of lemonade, Richard. Teamsmanship. Steer into the skid.

Nick Stuart: Kerry is down!

Pepper jumps to his feet and grabs Williams by the feet. He gives a spin for speed, and then slams him to the canvas with the powerbomb. Williams smashes off the canvas, and Pepper hooks the leg as Barlow counts.

ONE!

TWO!

….

………

……………

…………………….

THREE!

DING DING DING 

The Five Star Champion tries to kick out but is just shy.

Barlow signals for Vince Howard.

Vince Howard: ROB WILLIAMS HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

Nick Stuart: Rob Williams got screwed by Fred Dick out of hatred for Joe Fontaine.

Richard Parker: It’s poetic.

FLAMBERGE and Kerry are both slowly realizing their predicament on the outside while Big John Pepper stands waiting in the center of the ring. He huddles with Farthington, and nods while Kerry and FLAMBERGE are assessing the situation. FLAMBERGE points to Kerry’s chest, and steps through the ropes.

Nick Stuart: FLAMBERGE against Big John Pepper.

Richard Parker: This is wild.

FLAMBERGE gets some encouragement from Fontaine before stepping forward in an attempt to conquer another giant of PRIME. Pepper comes forward, FLAMBERGE stabs a leg kick into Pepper’s leg, this is about the thirtieth of the night, and it’s finally had it’s desired effect.

Nick Stuart: From Dawkins to FLAMBERGE, to Kerry. They’ve tried Peppers legs.

Pepper stumbles, Flambo smells weakness and fires another in, then another. They are brutal, they are vicious. They snap, the iguana tail cracks and Pepper finally hits the mat. FLAMBERGE drops down with a hammerfist. He was looking for Pepper’s brain matter, BJP gets his enormous forearms up, and a comically different guard has developed. BJP scrambles and Flambo follows, all over Pepper.

Richard Parker: FLAMBERGE is terrifying. Somehow, he’s bigger than the giant.

BJP finally gets to the ropes and Barlow steps in, FLAMBERGE looks to Kerry and to Pepper. He strikes again as Pepper climbs to his feet, a left kick to the midsection keeps Pepper from Farthington, and he steps between the two grabbing BJP’s head and driving a knee into it from a clinch.

Nick Stuart: Flambo is all over Pepper, BJP needs to stop this.

FLAMBERGE rushes him to the corner with a knee Pepper avoids, but barely. Pepper bounces off the corner and comes back ripping FLAMBERGE in half with a lariat. Flambo flips head over heels, landing on his face. Pepper reaches down and wraps his hand around his neck. Pepper lifts him from the floor to the sky. Flambo’s eyes are huge, he manages to clip Pepper in the jaw with a knee and the big man stumbles backwards dropping Flambo to the ground.

Nick Stuart: That was almost it.

Pepper swings a wild right hand, but Flambo ducks down, the big man takes his chance and grabs The Lizard King again. This time around the waist, and lifts him into the sky, Flambo frantically starts punching Pepper, the big man runs forward and drives FLAMBERGE into the mat with a powerbomb in the center of the ring. The right hands fly all the way to the ground and FLAMBERGE’s shoulders and skull smash off the mat, while Pepper lands on top of him.

Nick Stuart: POWER BOMB! PEPPER CAUGHT FLAMBERGE!

Richard Parker: GO YOU BIG SON OF A BITCH! GO!

Barlow drops down to the canvas and starts counting.

ONE!

TWO!

….

……..

………….

……………….

Nick Stuart: FLAMBERGE SITS UP WITH PEPPER’S NECK WRAPPED IN THE MARIE ANTOINETTE. PEPPER IS IN TROUBLE!

FLAMBERGE starts arching his back as hard as he can, full bridge, Pepper starts to turn a different color as Ashley Barlow pulls FLAMBERGE off and calls for the bell.

DING DING DING

Vince Howard: BIG JOHN PEPPER HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

Nick Stuart: FLAMBERGE DID IT! HE CHOKED HIM OUT!

Richard Parker: NO!

FLAMBERGE lets go, and Pepper falls on top of FLAMBERGE. Barlow starts to move Pepper, who very suddenly sits straight up and looks around. Pepper swings once and the massive hand clips Flambo’s jaw. The follow up bear sized forearm doesn’t miss either. It crashes into FLAMBERGE’s face. The third is in the mail at FLAMBERGE before Barlow can get control of the situation. Pepper comes to his senses and nods as he gets to his feet and exits the ring, led by Enemigos.

Nick Stuart: That was wild.

Richard Parker: Pepper woke up in a panic, fight or flight.

Nick Stuart: That’s the first time you’ve said anything intelligent in like a month.

Richard Parker: Fuck you, Nick.

FLAMBERGE gets to his feet as Cecilworth steps through the ropes. His lip is split, he rubs his neck, the Excalibur had done it’s toll. His stomach hurt, his body ached. But he looked at Kerry. Still clutching his chest in agony. The toll of the Assassin and Pepper lingered.

Nick Stuart: Looks like FLAMBERGE is going to go again.

Richard Parker: I don’t know what’s the better decision. This is unreal.

Flambo and Farthington stand across the ring from each other. Flambo walks to the center of the ring, beaten, bruised. Farthington has been hurt, he’s felt pain. The bandage showed that. But tonight, his team had protected him, while FLAMBERGE has chosen to be the protector.

Nick Stuart: Here we go.

Barlow calls the two to go, and FLAMBERGE fires from the corner. Joe stands in shock at ringside. He is a man frozen in agony once again. Ami and Hank are watching intently as the two collide again. Right hand from FLAMBERGE and Farthington sidesteps with a chop to FLAMBERGE’s chest. Flambo spins looking for a decapitation via spinning backfist. Farthington is caught off guard and dodges backwards, Flambo’s fist grazing his chin. FLAMBERGE pushes the advantage.

Richard Parker: This is awesome.

Nick Stuart: Almost caught him!

Cecilworth stumbles and FLAMBERGE launches a knee into Farthington. Cecilworth manages to take it on his pec instead of his chin, but he’s driven backwards. Flambo slides across the canvas in an unexpected manner towards Farthington on all fours. Cecilworth jumps backwards and FLAMBERGE drives after him. Flambo jumps up at an awkward angle with a diving left jab that smashes Cecilworth’s lip. Farthington’s head snaps and he bounces off the ropes. Flambo rips him over with a judo throw and slams him to the canvas in the former Farthington corner.

Nick Stuart: FLAMBERGE is vicious.

Richard Parker: He’s one of the most dominant professional wrestlers in the world. He’s going for it.

FLAMBERGE’s chest touches Farthington’s for a second, and that’s all Cecilworth needed, his arms wrap around Flambo, he won’t let go. The two crash into the canvas, but Cecilworth rolls his hips and uses the momentum to come out on top of FLAMBERGE. Flambo gets his feet under Cecilworth’s legs and pushes him off, Cecilworth lands on his feet and tries to spin Flambo’s feet to jump into side guard. FLAMBERGE sits up as Cecilworth goes to the ropes and comes back smashing FLAMBERGE in the upper shoulder blades/back of the neck area. Flambo is snapped forward, while Cecilworth heads to the ropes knocking Kerry off the apron and turns around. He puts Flambo’s head between his legs, lifts him around the waist, and drops him on his head with a gotch style piledriver.

Nick Stuart: PILE DRIVER!

Cecilworth hooks both of FLAMBERGE’s legs.

Richard Parker: EXCALIBUR HAS PAID IT’S DUES!

Barlow drops to the canvas.

ONE!

TWO!

….

……..

………….

THREE!

KERRY KICKS CECILWORTH’S RIBS!

DING DING DING

Vince Howard: FLAMBERGE has been eliminated!

Barlow calls for the bell, as FLAMBERGE is on the ground holding his neck. Farthington drops the pin and ignores Kerry as he checks on FLAMBERGE. Barlow stops the match for a moment while Farthington checks on FLAMBERGE, Kerry goes to his corner shaking his head. Ami is in his corner. Hank has joined Cecilworth’s. Joe and Cecilworth help FLAMBERGE out of the ring, before Cecilworth turns around to stare into the eyes of the Emerald Apex.

Nick Stuart: This arena is ready to explode.

Richard Parker: How can Kerry even stand?

Nick Stuart: I have no idea.

Kerry charges forward, it was going to be a sprint. He’d set the tone, collar and elbow, Kerry grimaces as Cecilworth locks up with him. Farthington drives the bigger Kuroyama backwards. Kerry stumbles, Cecilworth pounces and drives a chop across Kerry’s chest. Kerry grimaces in pain as Cecilworth loads up a second vicious chop. Kerry blocks and comes forward with a spinning slap across Cecilworth’s chest. The Universal Champion stumbles and Kerry pounces, he grabs Farthington and lifts him over his head with a belly to belly suplex.

Nick Stuart: HUGE SUPLEX FROM KERRY!

Cecilworth hits the mat, skidding to the far side of the ring while Kuroyama gets to his feet slowly. He’s holding his ribs still, he marches to Cecilworth in the corner, breaking into a sprint as Cecilworth sets himself up against the bottom turnbuckle and takes a running knee strike to the mouth for his trouble. Kerry rips Cecilworth up, he throws Cecilworth up onto his shoulder.

Kerry wobbles, Cecilworth struggles reaching for the ropes and kicking his feet. The universal champion manages to grab Kerry’s arm as he slips behind Kerry finally. Kerry is spun around by Cecilworth like a ripcord. The Financier smashes Kerry with a european uppercut that puts Kerry on the back foot. Kerry stumbles backwards and Farthington smashes him with a second uppercut.

Nick Stuart: Kuroyama is reeling!

Richard  Parker: Cecilworth is surgical!

Kerry turns his back clutching his chest as Farthington storms towards him. Kerry turns back towards Farthington and catches a boot to the stomach for his trouble. Kerry doubles over and Cecilworth plants him into the canvas with a DDT. The Financier takes a moment to collect himself.

Nick Stuart: It’s just Farthington and Kerry in there! That’s it! All on these two men!

Richard Parker: And Kerry’s skull just got slammed into the canvas!

Ami is slapping the mat for Kerry as Cecilworth slowly makes his way to his feet. He tosses Kerry into the corner, and comes roaring in from across the ring with a monster of a penalty kick to Kuroyama’s injured chest and ribs. Farthington nods and walks back across the ring, he storms forward again for another penalty kick. The blow lands, but Kuroyama grabs Cecilworth’s leg. He shouts. The Apex rises. Kerry lifts Cecilworth into the air and drops him with a spinning fisherman’s buster of his own.

Nick Stuart: KERRY IS STILL IN THIS!

Richard Parker: NO! NO!

Cecilworth smashes off the canvas and rolls away from Kerry as Kuroyama lays on the ground clutching his ribs, kicking his feet. Ami is slamming the canvas, Hank is clapping, Cecilworth slowly rolls away from Kerry. Kuroyama pounds the canvas, and slowly gets to his feet, he looks across the ring at Cecilworth and takes off at a sprint. Cecilworth catches a blur out of the corner of his eye and leaps from the ground with a knee up, catching Kuroyama square in the ribs. Kuroyama flips over Cecilworth’s knee and falls on his back clutching his ribs. Cecilworth acquires an arm, and the armbar is on in an instant.

Nick Stuart: ARMBAR!

Richard Parker: ARTICLE 51! ARTICLE 51!

Kerry tries to pull himself away, he starts swinging his legs on the ground but Cecilworth drives a boot into his ribs, then another, then another, then another, and then he wrenches back again and Kerry Kuroyama taps.

DING DING DING 

Vince Howard: KERRY KUROYAMA HAS BEEN ELIMINATED FROM TEAM WILLIAMS! THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH IS TEAM FARTHINGTON!

Cecilworth collapses on the mat, Kerry rolls out of the ring into the waiting arms of Ami and Team Williams. Dawkins, Williams, Kerry, FLAMBERGE, Joe, Ami, the squad. Avalon, Pepper and Christie all celebrate on the outside raising the hand of Cecilworth. Pepper lifts Farthington, before Farthington asks him very kindly to put him back down. Hank is very excited.

Nick Stuart: That was a ride.

Richard Parker: You’re telling me…

The sun sets.

A COOL breeze makes its way throughout the Arena.

Nick Stuart: Eighty-seven thousand this place holds.

Richard Parker: Is that right?

Nick Stuart: Yeah.

Richard Parker: I still don’t think it is big enough to contain what comes next.

The lights begin to flicker. On and off they go, until suddenly, they stop.

Black.

Well, as black as can be under the moonlight.

Then, amongst the silence, a bevy of pyro rips through the air; illuminating the inside of the stadium for only a brief moment. The fade back to black coincides with the beginning of Team of Snakepit’s entrance music.

A familiar riff. Though, this one is much, much, much more ominous.

Probably perilous, too.

It is an edited version, one to draw out the beginning because, well, the walk down to the ring isn’t a short one.

“It’s no Gamble.” — Cancer Jiles, in regard to the walk down to the ring, at some point and time today

“War Pigs” by Black Sabbath slowly continues to build, and not before long, up on the Crumbotron, appearing in the dark to shine a bright light on things to come if you will, is a live shot of the backstage area. And then, as if their cue is the air raid siren that is blaring throughout El Stadium Azteca, which, it probably is, Team Snakepit, one by one, spills out into the hallway.

Diamonds.

Kael.

Gamble.

Jiles.

All of them dressed in funeral black. Well, Daytona’s jacket didn’t fit him so that’s missing, and the zipper broke on Jiles’ or else it would be pulled up. Tony and Max have complete fits. Gamble has a telephone book in his hand, opened up to “Good Old Days Eggstermination”

Nick Stuart: There they are. The walking embodiment of…

Nick struggles to find the words.

Richard on the other hand…

Richard Parker: The plague. The Dark Ages. Unconscionable decisions. The desecration of the sacred. Pain. Agony. Misery. Chaos. Mayhem. Death. Actually, I’m kind of shocked they each don’t have a horse to ride on.

Nick Stuart: That might have something to do with Jiles cuttin–

Richard Parker: I know. AND HOW LONG IS THIS SIREN GOING TO GO OFF FOR?!?!?

Nick Stuart: War Pigs got turned off a little while ago. That’s just the normal siren the stadium  has for when someone scores a goal or… when the cartel is making the rounds.

Richard Parker: So which time is this?

Nick Stuart: I choose not to answer that question because it might be later on used against me in the court of law.

Richard Parker: You do realize where we are, right?

Nick Stuart: Still.

The feed of the good old boys making their way from the backstage area to the curtain comes to an end. Replacing it, a montage of the many ways Cancer Jiles has tormented Brandon Youngblood, and conversely, the many ways Brandon Youngblood has tormented Cancer Jiles. There is a lot of video, but some of the highlights involve a Randplexxing five years in the making, dentistry work from both sides of the aisle, a UNIVERSAL TITLE slipping through the fingers tips, and finally, the brief news war where both team Captains agreed to the terms of anything goes, ensuring an absolute bloodbath.

Then, there’s more pyro.

More fire.

More intensity.

Then, amongst the hellfire flaming, and war siren blaring, a simple strum can be heard.

Then, the voice of an angel.

Then, the thousands in attendance all stand as finally, live and in color, Team Snakepit emerges. This time around it’s “Ode to the Bandit” that is playing as they walk down to the ring, and it’s being played and sung by none other than Max Kael-Shell himself..

Richard Parker: Is that??? Is that Max Kael?

Nick Staurt: I believe at this moment he is Max Shell, because only Max Shell knows the proper chords to this song, and yes I’m getting all that from my notes that I have here. Oh, and it also turns out that Youngblood and Jiles squared off at the first Culture Shock of the ReVival era, but who cares about that, right? We got the Yolkulele in play, and Max Kael in concert.

King COOL is out in front; a big, confident, rock hard smile erect from ear to ear is smack dab across his face. Same goes for Diamonds, and Kael, well between breaths anyway. Usually, in these instances, JIles will single out a fan to belittle, but since Messiah doesn’t travel to Mexico, well, everyone ringside is safe.

For now.

No wait, actually, it is Gamble who is out in front. He was just out of frame. Obviously, he is also smiling, too.

NIck Stuart: I hate to say it, but it is quite the collection of rotten eggs Jiles has assembled.

Richard Parker: Sure is, those poor folks. They never asked to be associated with such a tremendous loser, and now, they have to suffer for it. After Brandon cracks his eggs, Team Snakepit should be able to take a bite out of Cancer Jiles, and leave him to die in a Mexican gutter– which, Nick, is better than he deserves.

Nick Stuart: Indeed, still though, Jiles didn’t pick friends, he didn’t pick any of his foes, he picked killers, Richard, plain and simple. Ruthless, coldblooded, steroid abusing, killers. Jiles picked people he thought were just like him, who have no problem doing whatever it takes.

Team Snakepit all slither into the ring a different way. Jiles goes under the bottom rope, belly first. Max ditches the Yolkulele and calmly barrel-rolls under the bottom rope. Gamble goes through the trap door located underneath the ring. Daytona jumps(more of a lunge) from the outside, up and over the top rope, and lands on his feet inside the ring. His hat stays with him the whole time.

There is no introduction, simply because one is not needed.

You know just by looking at these guys who they are.

The ones you don’t fuck with.

It is time, Estadio Azteca. After the wonderful, masturbatory, self absorbed, disgusting, garbage soaked, garbage fueled, totally garbage, awful, vile, despicable, entrances of the Very Bad Not Good Person Team, we could all use a palette cleanser, no? Well, my children, it is time for such a thing.

Here is your Andes Mint.

Don’t say I didn’t do anything special for you, buckaroo.

The stadium lights begin to flicker…but they do so at the beckoning of another sound, clear as day, pumping through the audio system. Is that…is that an engine running?

Why, yes, yes it is!

Gas is fed, and as it is consumed, the revving.

The revving…of chainsaws.

What manner of metaphor is to be utilized here?

No…actually…

We are going full on literal.

On the PRIMEView, the Youngblood Diamond. A chainsaw rips clean through it, cutting down its center. Through the center steps Paul BY GAWD Bunyan. He is very big, and very jolly.

I HAVE COME FROM THE GREAT LAKES…

AND THE GREAT PLAINS…

TO GIVE TO VALIANT WARRIORS…

THE SPIRIT…

THE ESSENCE…

THE FIGHTING KNOW HOW…

OF…

THE MIGHTY…

PANCAKE FUELED…

LUMBERJACK!!!

Suddenly, the lights cut completely.

A sudden burst of red and black pyro shoots off in the air in Mexico City…

In the form of an axe.

In the form of a pancake.

In the form…

Of a Lumberjack.

Cue the song.

“The Lumberjack” by Jackyl blares, and when the stadium lights come back on, across the Culture Shock stage is Team Youngblood.

RIA.

Hayes Hanlon.

Clay Byrd.

Brandon Youngblood.

They all hold chainsaws, and begin revving them up, all before taking their mighty blades into the towering wood whittled visage of the faces of Team Jiles. The fans are apoplectic.

Hayes himself looks dapper with his unbuttoned flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up his forearms.

RIA probably is awakening feelings in young men and women across the world with her beanie hat and red and black flannel get up.

Clay Byrd’s duster is flannel colored, and he has long suspenders over his broad Behemoth shoulders.

And Brandon Youngblood? His singlet is patterned red and black flannel, his wrestling shoes dirty brown, mimicking outdoor boots.

They put down their chainsaws and reach behind the sundered visage and pick up big plates…filled with pancakes! And as they go down to the ring, they are throwing them to the crowd.

This is a fever dream.

Yes it is.

This is Team Youngblood.

This…

Is the Power of The Lumberjack!

Vroom vroom…bitches!

“RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

Richard Parker: I want to say something to our production team. If you’re listening…stop smoking the drugs.

Nick Stuart: What if they aren’t listening?

Richard Parker: I dunno. Keep going, I guess.

All eight members of the Squads pile into the ring. Team Jiles in their blacks; Team Youngblood in their flannels. They face off, nose-to-nose, until Elvis Nixon sends them back to their corners.

Once the bell rings, you’re on your own…but right now there are still rules, and by God they will be enforced.

Finally, the two men chosen to start this affair are called forward.

The King of COOL saunters to the middle of the ring. Youngblood stomps forward to meet him. They listen to the referee’s instructions…but let’s be honest, they’re not actually listening.

The snarling, stewing Diamond. The prickly, preening Manhunter.

It could only ever start with them.

It could only ever start like this.

Jiles takes a step back. One might see this and think he’s ceding ground, preparing to defer to one of his teammates and derail the Suplex Daddy’s head of steam.

Yes, one might think that.

But the ones who know, know.

He’s not retreating.

He’s aiming.

And the Diamond knows exactly what he’s aiming for.

DING DING

CRACK!

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Terminal.

Cancer.

Hard enough to fill a whole damn Denny’s full of salt shakers.

Jiles turns around to admire his handiwork…and there he sees the Tower.

Still standing. Not a strand of hair on his goatee out of place.

No surprise, though.

The great salted shoe had a different target.

Nick Stuart: Elvis Nixon is down! My God, that kick sent him flying!

Richard Parker: DISQUALIFY HIM! FIRE HIM! SEND HIM TO JAIL FOR A THOUSAND YEARS!

Cancer Jiles only has a split second before Brandon Youngblood pummels him into oblivion. Before the Squads converge, with the Goal of tearing each other to pieces.

He spends that moment looking smug, right up until a Youngblood forearm collides with his jaw.

Time well spent.

Especially since the rest of the Squads jump in as soon as possible. Before the blow can land, Youngblood finds himself in a swarm of fists and boots. He grabs one of the attacking arms–he thinks it’s Kael’s, but he can’t be sure–while his own team evens the sides.

Max Kael uses his free arm to jab Brandon in the ribs a few times before Clay Byrd intervenes. Hayes Hanlon goes for Jiles’ knee, but he’s cut off by Daytona Diamonds. Tony Gamble and RIA Lockhart go straight after each other; still no love lost between those two.

There’s no feeling out process here, just one thundering blow after another. Each one designed to put an opponent on the mat–or the shelf–for good. Each one driving the recipient to come back, harder.

The stalemate has to break, and it’s the biggest man in the ring who does the breaking. Cancer Jiles tries to keep his distance and use quick strikes to pick the Behemoth apart, but all it takes is a big step forward and a bigger right hand to send King Crumb stumbling backward.

Rather than follow, Clay takes aim at Tony Gamble, waylaying the Grin with a series of clubbing forearms to the back. He finds himself on the ropes, then over them thanks to a Lockhart dropkick.

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

On the other side of the ring, Hayes Hanlon is giving Daytona Diamonds everything he’s got…and it’s not enough. The Anabolic Outlaw is too big, too angry, too blonde to be stopped by anyone. Punch after punch, slamming into Hanlon’s face like cinder blocks. Each one enough to fell a lesser man.

But c’mon, this is Hayes Hanlon we’re talking about. Triple Crown, Pillar of Glue, Hall of Famer. He’s shrugged off shots from Ivan Stanislav; he can take this.

The shots are forcing him back, though. Ol’ Double D may not be a seven-foot Russian tank, but he’s no Tapioca Puddings either. Hayes gives as good as he gets, but he’s slowly losing ground.

Max Kael and Brandon Youngblood have no intention of ceding ground. They stand dead center, throwing bombs at each other’s heads with no regard for defense.

You’d think they’d slow down as the impact got stronger.

You’d think that.

But no, they’re doing their best Gotti/Ward impression, swinging their fists before the pain can catch up with them.

If Cancer Jiles has a watchword, it’s “overconfidence.” But even he has to face reality sometimes, especially when that reality is in the shape of two people who’d love to stomp his guts out. He backpedals in a wide circle, careful to avoid the other melees while calling for mercy from Byrd and Lockhart. It works exactly as well as you’d expect.

They know it’s a trick. Anyone who’s seen Jiles at work for more than ten seconds knows it’s a trick. But that’s the most dangerous thing about Cancer Jiles–you might know the trick is coming, but you never know when, where, or how.

That said, the safe bet would be: “now,” and “from behind.”

And if you bet on “Tony Gamble whacking Clay Byrd in the goolies”…well, that’s a hell of a parlay.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!”

Byrd’s face goes red as he crumples to one knee, using his hands to cradle his cracked huevos.

Ha.

That sliver of hope gives Jiles an opening, and he pries it wide with a blistering knife-edge chop to the Toxic Queen. Another chop pushes her back, then a pump kick sends her tumbling to the floor.

Clay Byrd is finally standing upright, his face going red for a different reason as he glares at Tony Gamble. He charges, ready to separate The Grin from his teeth with a massive lariat…but at the last second, Gamble ducks and pulls the top rope down. The Behemoth’s momentum sends him toppling over and out of the ring.

Richard Parker: That means Clay Byrd’s eliminated, right?

Nick Stuart: Not even remotely how this works.

Youngblood and Kael continue battering each other, but they’re finally slowing down. The strikes are still heavy, but now each man has a few seconds to think in between each one.

When you’re fighting Max Kael, that’s a few seconds too many.

Eye poke.

“BOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Throat chop.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

Boxing the ears.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Youngblood staggers away, trying to regain his equilibrium…back rake.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

And finally, a shoulder block to the back that sends the Diamond stumbling out of the ring.

That just leaves Hayes Hanlon in the ring by himself, and…oh, that’s not going well at all.

He’s been corralled by the King of the Rodeo, who’s got the Event Horizon gorilla pressed as high as his massive arms will go. He marches from one end of the ring to the other, then tosses the Comeback Kid out of the ring like a sack of potatoes.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!”

Nick Stuart: Fans, we’re off to a wild start, and Team Jiles has it locked down so far!

Richard Parker: FIGHT BETTER, YOU CLOWNS! IF THAT CRUMB WINS TONIGHT, SO HELP ME–

Diamonds walks to the center of the ring and raises his arm in triumph. Gamble and Kael soon join him, as if they have some sort of unspoken Charlie’s Angels thing going on. It would actually look kinda cool, except Cancer Jiles walks in front of them and puts on his best “smug prick” look.

It doesn’t matter who the spotlight is on. We all know who it’s for.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

RIA Lockhart makes the first move to break the eGG-Whores-Max-Army stranglehold by hopping on the apron. Tony Gamble spots her and charges in to cut off the comeback; RIA responds by dropping to the apron and pulling down the top rope.

Really? You think you’re going to catch Tony Gamble with an old trick like that? Especially one he just used? The Grin knows every trick in every book, inside and out. He saw this coming a mile away.

He stops short, bracing himself against the ropes to halt his momentum, and loads up to kick Lockhart in the ribs. She…lets go of the rope.

THWAP!

It catches him in the neck, sending him backwards. Daytona Diamonds steps in to assist, just in time to see RIA back on her feet. Then, on the top rope. Then, flying through the air. Then, flying right at him.

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Nick Stuart: Springboard hurricanrana! What a beautiful move!

Here’s where Max Kael and Cancer Jiles would step in to assist…but they’ve got their own problems. Those problems are named Clay Byrd and Hayes Hanlon.

Clay lumbers into the ring, one leg at a time, and comes straight for the Black Heart of PRIME like a siege engine. Before Kael can react, Byrd clobbers him with a haymaker, then ragdolls him from one side of the ring to the other.

Hanlon, the pomp to Clay’s circumstance, peppers Jiles in the face with a series of punches, each with a little flourish that draws cheers from the crowd. Jiles staggers long enough for Hayes to wind up his arm…

“WHHOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAA!”

…and lay the Crumb out with an almost cartoonish uppercut. The impact sends Jiles rolling away to the safety of the floor.

Lockhart is dodging for her life, narrowly avoiding Daytona’s wild, angry swings. At every chance, she kicks Daytona in the right knee, hoping to slow him down. It doesn’t seem to be working, but her speed and agility are definitely protecting her from Diamonds’ wrath.

But what can protect her from Tony Gamble, now recovered and stalking RIA from behind?

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”

Oh yes. He’ll do.

A meaty, angry hand grabs Tony by the hair. Another grabs him by the seat of his tights. Those meaty, angry hands–connected to the equally meaty and angry Brandon Youngblood, send the Permascar Superstar flying over the rope and out of the ring.

Max Kael is quick to follow, bulldozed out by Byrd. Finally, with her teammates holding the enormous Diamonds against the ropes, RIA Lockhart charges and connects with a picture-perfect dropkick. Daytona takes a powder (not his usual kind), and now Team Youngblood hold court in the ring…and let the fans know it.

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

Nick Stuart: Now it’s Youngblood with the upper hand–and Jiles is furious!

Richard Parker: He’s beyond furious, Nick! He’s even beyond butthurt–he’s full-on assmad!

Nick Stuart: …what?

Richard Parker: Because he’s an ass!

Mr. Night Two rallies his troops. OK, things have taken a bad turn. Crumblood and his army of losers have the upper hand. It’s fine. It’s fine. Just need a moment to work out the strategy and then…

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA–”

He looks up to see RIA Lockhart, high in the air. Way too high. Nobody should be that high; not even Rezin. How’d she get there?

Well.

As soon as Jiles and his team congregated together, RIA started running. She hit the opposite ropes at speed, then launched herself toward Clay Byrd. Clay ducked down and launched her upward with the biggest damn back body drop you’ve ever seen.

That’s what sent RIA Lockhart all the way up there, and in the time it took to explain, she made her descent toward the gathered bastards below, scattering them like bowling pins on impact.

“–AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

RIA gives a quick bow to the audience before grabbing Max Kael and running him into the ring. Byrd, Youngblood, and Hanlon put the boots to him, while Lockhart looks for her next target.

She sees Tony Gamble. She sees his hand. She sees a flash of metal.

CRACK!

And then she doesn’t see much at all.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

Nick Stuart: Tony Gamble with the brass knuckles! He must have hid them in his tights–but why?!

Richard Parker: He needed to keep them hidden.

Nick Stuart: From who? There’s no rules here!

Richard Parker: Shows what you know, Nick! There’s more people to hide stuff from than the ref!

Nick Stuart: Are you talking about the IRS, or your ex-wife’s lawyers?

Richard Parker: I’m not at liberty to say.

In the ring, Daytona Diamonds rushes to help his teammate, and it takes the combined efforts of Youngblood and Hanlon to hold him off. That leaves Clay Byrd free to drop down and attempt the first pinfall of tonight’s match.

…

Oh, right. Should probably see how Elvis Nixon is doing.

He’s only now shaking the cobwebs loose, and the blobs in his field of vision start to look like people again. One of them looks like they’re pinning another. With some effort, he pushes himself off the mat, hobbles toward his position, and–

CRACK!

–gets kicked in the face again.

Richard Parker: SEND HIM TO PRISON! DOUBLE PRISON!

Nick Stuart: Jiles is going to end up with record fines after this!

Richard Parker: AND I HOPE HE PAYS IN BLOOD!

Byrd looks up to see what happened, and catches a quick knee to the face from Jiles–who’s still laughing about his latest stunt. Kael wriggles free from his position underneath the Cowboy Colossus and sinks his teeth into the big man’s arm!

Richard Parker: People can’t get enough of Clay’s Rootin’ Tootin’ Beef and Noodleroni!

Brief cut to the announcers’ desk, where a hand comes in from offscreen and stuffs a check into Richard’s pocket.

Nick Stuart: Wendell’s is not an official sponsor of PRIME or Culture Shock.

Richard Parker: But they are an official sponsor of the pool I’m putting in this summer.

Daytona Diamonds shoves Youngblood backward, right into Tony Gamble. He still has those brass knuckles, and takes aim at the Tower’s dome. Youngblood turns around too fast, catching Tony with a backfist. Tony staggers, then takes a swing of his own. With the knuckles, of course.

With a snarl, Brandon catches Tony’s fist.

And s-q-u-e-e-z-e-s.

The Grin howls with pain as his fingers dig into the sides of the stubborn metal object, the weapon turned into a trap. There’s no relief in release, either. When Brandon finally lets the hand go, it’s only to pull him in close by the arm.

Come to Papa Plex.

WHAM!

Nick Stuart: A devastating belly-to-belly suplex puts Gamble on the mat!

Youngblood stands up and scans the ring…and sees him. Directing traffic for his teammates. Currently unprotected.

PRIME is full of plotters and schemers. Those who revel in their twisted, complicated plans. But as much fun as an intricate, meandering path can be…there’s something to be said for a straight line.

“RRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!”

Jiles knows he’s coming. Before the cheers, before Youngblood takes a step. He doesn’t even have to look.

In fact, he doesn’t. Not until the Diamond is right on top of him.

A smirk in the face of a snarl. Cool, in the face of boiling. But makes no mistake. He wants this just as much as Brandon. Just as much as the fans.

The preliminaries had gone on long enough; now it was time to dance.

They go to lock up–

WHAM!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!”

Nick Stuart: Daytona Diamonds with a huge lariat to Youngblood! Looks like we’ll have to wait a little while longer!

Richard Parker: NO MORE WAITING! SEND HIM TO HELL! DOUBLE HELL!

Jiles has a few sharp words for his squadmate over the interruption, but it’s clear that Daytona Diamonds don’t give a fuck about that or nothin’ else. He’s already blonde; how could it get worse?

Anyway, Jiles is about to have a new problem. It’s called Hayes Hanlon, and he’s coming in hot!

Nick Stuart: Hanlon with the shoulder block! He hit Jiles like a heat-seeking missile!

Cancer rolls out of the ring, with Hanlon giving chase. The pursuit lasts almost a full lap around the ring, with Jiles and Hanlon narrowly navigating the tight corners. But at the last turn…Jiles doesn’t. He runs straight at the barricade…then plants a foot against it, launching himself straight backward, his back elbow aimed at Hanlon’s face.

SMACK!

Let’s catch up with Clay and Max, shall we?

They’re holding the center of the ring, and Max is holding Byrd’s arm behind his back with a nasty-looking hammerlock. The big man reaches for Max’s head, then his leg, then his other arm, but can never quite seem to reach.

Nick Stuart: This doesn’t get talked about enough, but the way Max Kael moves must make him extremely frustrating to compete against.

Richard Parker: It’s because he was assembled by monsters with only a basic understanding of human physiology, and moves like a marionette with half the joints pointing the wrong way.

Byrd starts to twist out of the hold, only to be met by a knee to the face halfway through the process. Kael then grabs the Cowboy Colossus’ head and slams it into the mat. He rolls the big man over for the match’s second pinfall.

He has no better luck than Clay did, with Nixon being freshly dead again.

Phooey.

He tries to gouge out Clay’s eyes. Hey, gotta pass the time somehow.

Back on the outside, Jiles is putting the boots to Hayes Hanlon, while Tony Gamble gives him some shots to the head. They’re not brass-assisted–he lost those when Youngblood tried to suplex him through the ring earlier–but they’re still effective.

Still, could be better. What to do?

Ah.

Ha.

Jiles goes for the corner and grabs a pair of chairs. He tosses one to the former Bandit–

No such thing. Once, always.

–and grips the other tightly, slamming it on the floor for emphasis.

CRACK!

Richard Parker: Look at this asshole. Now I have to hate the use of steel chairs! IS THERE NOTHING YOU WILL NOT TAKE FROM ME?!

Nick Stuart: Honestly, I’m shocked it took them this long.

Richard Parker: BOSS! I KNOW YOU’RE LISTENING! PUNISH HIM FOR THIS! SEND HIM TO WEST VIRGINIA! DOUBLE–

Nick Stuart: Rich, why don’t you calm down–

Richard Parker: YOU CALM DOWN!!

Jiles keeps slamming the chair on the floor padding, like he’s trying to wake Hayes Hanlon up before he knocks him out again. Tony holds position, ready to swing his own chair. He can already hear what the impact is going to sound like.

He can’t hear the footsteps rapidly approaching from behind as he swings. He does feel the impact of someone’s boots in his back–

CRACK!

–and the shock that goes through the chair as it collides with Cancer Jiles’ face.

“RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!”

Nick Stuart: RIA Lockhart is back in it, and she just bailed out Hayes Hanlon in a major way!

RIA wastes no time, grabbing Tony Gamble in a rear waistlock and hauling him up to his feet. Tony gets a great view of the fury and pain on Cancer’s face. Oh, there’s something else too.

By accident, Tony Gamble has drawn first blood.

Too late for Ferst Blud, though.

Good news is, he won’t have to look at that for long. Bad news is, it’s because Lockhart lets out a barbaric cry and hauls him over her head with a German Suplex.

WHAM!

Jiles laughs at his teammate’s misfortune, unaware that he’s about to go on his own suplex ride courtesy of the Event Horizon. Make sure your arms and legs stay inside the cart at all times…

WHAM!

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Both suplexes are released–no pinfalls on the floor, and anyway the referee is dead–and Lockhart looks for her next opportunity. She grabs one of the chairs and hops up onto the apron, where she sees two very deserving targets.

Decisions, decisions.

The decision(s, decisions) is made by Max Kael; he sees her right as he jacks Clay’s jaw with a Sole Food. He slithers back to his feet, the unnerving grin on his face even wider than usual.

Lockhart rushes in to meet him, swinging the chair, but his massive reach advantage means he can grab the chair before it connects.

So RIA kicks him in the gut.

He bends over, and THAT puts him into headbutt range.

CRACK!

Sage Splitter, delivered with such impact that Cancer Jiles now has a brother in blood.

CRACK!

A second Sage Splitter, and now the blood brotherhood has a sister.

CRACK!

That was the chair, actually. Lockhart drove Max’s head into it with a DDT.

Kael rolls over, disoriented. RIA briefly considers the pin, but Elvis is still on the mat. At least his eyes are open.

Instead, she grabs the chair again, and makes a beeline for Daytona Diamonds.

CRACK!

Right across the back. Not enough to fell the King of the Rodeo, but enough to give Youngblood all the edge he needs.

How about a nice Northern Lights from Papa Plex?

WHAM!

He doesn’t bother with a bridge, instead hauling Daytona back up again. Meanwhile, RIA Lockhart climbs to the top rope, the chair still in hand.

As she steadies herself, the freshly vertical Daytona goes vertical again…and not by choice. Youngblood hoists the massive Diamonds upwards, then brings him down with a ring-shaking vertical suplex!

No sooner does he land on the mat than the Toxic Queen takes flight.

CRACK!

A diving splash, with the chair held across her midsection. Both Lockhart and Diamonds grab their ribs in pain, while the fans go nuts.

“RI-A! RI-A! RI-A!”

Richard Parker: Lockhart’s taken over this match in the last few minutes! For her first PRIME main event, she’s not showing any jitters at all!

Nick Stuart: You shouldn’t be surprised, partner. She’s a long way from being a rookie, and she’s been in the ring with some of the best PRIME has to offer. This moment is long overdue, and she’s capitalizing!

Byrd and Hanlon descend on Max Kael, hoisting him up for a tandem suplex. Before they can get him over, a semi-recovered Tony Gamble slides into the ring and kicks Byrd in the knee. That’s enough to bring Max down safely…and Gamble jumps in next to him, hoping to reverse the tandem suplex on either or both of his opponents.

In retrospect, not Tony’s best plan. Especially not when Brandon Youngblood joins the party.

“RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Now three big beefy bois lift two other bois of questionable size, holding them upright to the delight of the crowd.

Less delightful for the crowd:

CRACK!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Terminal Cancer for Clay Byrd. He topples backward, with Hanlon and Youngblood barely holding onto their opponents.

CRACK!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Terminal Cancer for Hayes Hanlon, and Kael narrowly avoids landing on his head as the Comeback Kid falls.

CRACK!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
“RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Terminal Cancer for Elvis Nixon, again. Judging by the crowd, they’re starting to find it as funny as Cancer does.

And now, the pièce de résistance. A seething Youngblood drops Tony Gamble to the mat, giving Jiles all the time he needs. He frames Brandon up, takes aim, and fires.

CRACK!

“RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!”

But there’s RIA to take him out at the knee.

CRACK!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

And there’s a rising knee to Youngblood’s face from Max Kael.

THUD!

“RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!”
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

And there’s a dueling set of clotheslines, putting both Kael and RIA down.

That…seems to be everyone. Including the ref.

Well, shit. Now what?

“RAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Modest pop for Jimmy Turnbull, who hoofs it down the ramp, clearly hoping to restore order to this match without any rules.

Richard Parker: That’s the only time anyone’s been excited to see Jimmy. Even his mom.

Nick Stuart: The match needs to end eventually, Richard. You know, I’m surprised that Brandon Youngblood’s bounties haven’t come into play yet.

Richard Parker: These guys have short fuses and long memories, Stuart. The bounties wouldn’t be enough to cover your medical bills. But I get your point–kinda surprised no one’s crazy enough to go for it.

“RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA–”

Oh, what an astounding coincidence. Someone’s stepping out onto the ramp.

“–AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH–”

Striding with confidence, glaring at the ring with malice aforethought.

“–AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH–”

Well…less “glaring with malice” and “striding with confidence;” more “confused” and “needing to pee.”

“–AAAAAAAAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Steve Lemieux.

It’s…

It’s Steve Lemieux.

Richard Parker: Is getting destroyed his kink or something?

Nick Stuart: I’m ignoring you, Richard. Folks, Steve Lemieux is out here for the first time since he lost the Alias Title to Tony Gamble. You think he’s looking for revenge, or just after the bounty?

Richard Parker: I think he got lost looking for the bathroom.

Mr. Beefst gets closer and closer to the ring, looking around nervously and with a little dance in his step. Richard Parker might be right.

By now, Jimmy Turnbull has hit the ring, and some of the participants are starting to stir. Let’s give them a bit more incentive, shall we?

Some pyro.

KA-BOOM!

Some music.

Into the wild…
Thoughts all end…
Unearthly child…

Some hell that’s about to get raised.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The Muse has returned.

Consider yourselves inspired.

Nick Stuart: You wanted chaos, Richard? You got it! ANNA DANIELS IS HERE!

Indeed they are. Walking to the ring without a care in the world, just a sack over their shoulder and a staple gun in their hand.

That…seems bad.

Richard Parker: I’m gonna regret finding out what’s in that bag, aren’t I.

Nick Stuart: Most likely.

Thankfully, Richard doesn’t have to wait long. Anna reaches into the bag and pulls out…a big mess of curly brown hair.

Oh, God, did they steal that? Have we checked on Jack Marley lately?

Nick Stuart: Is…is that a wig?

A wi–yes! Yes. It’s a wig. That makes more sense.

Anna’s walking at a brisk pace, and will pass Steve at any moment. Right when they meet, Daniels holds out the wig…and brings in the staple gun.

KER-CHUNK!

Steve Lemieux: Yow! My buns!

He grabs his hurtin’ buns, only to get another shock when he feels a lot of hair that wasn’t there before. Steve seems very confused and scared by this. Did he never get The Talk?

OK, Steve. It’s like this. When a boy starts to grow up, his body goes through…certain changes. First, the–

Nick Stuart: Ladies and gentlemen, Anna Daniels has just stapled a wig to Steve Lemieux’s ass.

…

Ohhhh. Yes, that also makes more sense.

Nick Stuart: Gotta admit, partner, this was not on my Bingo Card.

Richard Parker: Bad luck, Nick. Now all I need for a win is “crucifixion match with real nails.” Or, “Doug Tim puts the shock collar on Jiles.”

Nick Stuart: That can’t be on your card.

Richard Parker: Never said it was. Just manifesting.

Brandon Youngblood’s bounty made a lot of headlines, but there were rumors of a counter-offer involving covering up the Tower of Babel’s all-over bald spot. Looks like the Muse is here to collect.

Things are getting insane. But are they getting insane enough?

We got you, fam. Take a look at the entrance ramp. Guess what you’ll find there.

That’s right.

Not a damn thing.

Only normies walk down the ramp.

Maybe out in the crowd, then?

Ha. Fat chance. That’s been claimed by the pigs as a show of intimidation. Fascists walk through the crowd.

Now, waiting underneath the ring all day, just for this moment?

That’s PUNK RAWK.

“RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!”
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

This man is familiar to the Mexico City audience, though that might be on account of the goat mask.

Richard Parker: Who can that be?

Nick Stuart: Don’t tell me you don’t know who that is.

Richard Parker: It could be anyone under that mask!

NIck Stuart: Right. It could be anyone with “INDIANA” tattooed on his stomach.

Richard Parker: Maybe Nate Colton got some ink done? Especially now that he’s in with the cartels.

Nick Stuart: The–what?!

Richard Parker: I heard he was handing out bags of cocaine at a funeral.

Well, we are in Mexico, and he’s wearing a mask…can’t reveal his identity. Let’s just call him the name he uses in Lucha Especial: El Cabron.

There. That should do us for a while.

El Cabron and Anna Daniels both reach the apron at the same time, while Steve Lemieux is still looking for help with his newly-acquired hair.

Nick Stuart: Pretty sure Anna’s here for Youngblood. Who could Rez–

Richard Parker: Ahem.

Nick Stuart: Sorry. Who could El Cabron be after?

Richard Parker: Could be anyone, really. But El Cabron looks like he’s pretty smart with his finances, so I expect him to cash in on the Team Jiles bounty.

Nick Stuart: Now you’re doing it on purpose.

Both interlopers (but not Intruders, thank God) scout the ring for their targets, who have gotten a lot livelier in the last few minutes. Most of them are brawling wildly, punching and kicking and hitting with chairs and smashing into turnbuckles and all the things that make life worth living.

Clay Byrd powerslams Tony Gamble, and lays on top of him. Jimmy Turnbull drops and–oh shit, is this a pinfall?

ONE!

Oh shit, is this a count?

TWO!

Oh shit, is this an elimination?!!

KICKOUT!

…nope.

Byrd gets up to argue, not realizing that Daytona Diamonds is right behind him. Big ‘Tone grabs Big Byrd around the waist and oh God please do not tell people I called him that he is a big scary man and will stuff me in a locker DON’T PUT ME BACK IN THE LOCKER lifts him off his feet!

Nick Stuart: Good Lord! Daytona Diamonds doing the impossible here! The Dusty Trail!

Richard Parker: He’s on more juice than a whole damn third grade field trip, and it is working for him!

Diamonds rolls over for the pin, pressing his forearm against Clay’s face.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Daytona holds up three fingers at Jimmy Turnbull. Jimmy holds up two fingers in response. Daytona comes back with just one.

Then, someone holds up Daytona Diamonds. Several inches off the ground.

Daytona gets back down, but just long enough for Brandon Youngblood to change his grip. We don’t normally see the tiger suplex from him…but what the hell, it’s PPV.

WHAM!

“RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”

And a picture perfect bridge, of course.

ONE!

TWO!

KICK!

Yes, Max Kael–narrowly beating Jiles to the punch–kicks Youngblood in the ribs to break up the pin. He got a running start, and it looks like he’s after a running finish, because he hasn’t stopped. Youngblood’s about halfway up when Kael spins in a circle and throws a roaring elbow right into Brandon’s jaw. Down he goes.

Down Max goes.

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

This time the pin gets broken up by senton to the back, courtesy of RIA Lockhart. Kael rolls over and sits up…putting him in perfect position to receive some Kneemotional Damage.

Another pin.

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

A shell-cracking kick catches RIA in the dome, and she tumbles off of Kael.

Nick Stuart: Starting to feel bad for Jimmy Turnbull here. Gotta be exhausting, counting all those pins in a row.

Richard Parker: Think of it like bringing in a relief pitcher. He needs those warm-up pitches, right?

Cancer Jiles pulls RIA up by the hair, that cocksure smile never leaving his face. Front facelock. DDT.

Over.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

“RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Not over.

Jiles is up like a shot, ready to give Jimmy Turnbull a lecture on proper counting speed, delivered at full volume and with more spittle and cuss words than one might expect. He hasn’t made a move to kick Jimmy in the face yet, but…well.

“Yet.”

He won’t get the chance now, either. Hayes Hanlon scoops him up onto his shoulders…but Jiles wriggles out and lands on his feet!

Richard Parker: NO FAIR! IT WAS HIS TURN! IT WAS YOUR TURN, YOU CRUMB!

Cancer Jiles has less interest in the haters than he does in fairness. He only has eyes for Hayes Hanlon’s mustachio’d face.

Terminal. Cancer.

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Ducked.

As luck would have it, that puts Hayes in perfect position to try again. He puts Jiles back in the fireman’s carry, stands up…and drops down, hard.

WHAM!

Death Valley Driver. And the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

Hey look, Tony Gamble’s alive. Guess it’s his turn to get involved in the Pinning Circle.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Or…he could just rake Hayes’ eyes across the bottom rope.

Nick Stuart: Just like Gamble to go for the cheap shot!

Richard Parker: You think Tony’s just gonna blindly follow everyone else? That’s not his style, Nicky.

Nick Stuart: Good point, Richard. He only blindly follows certain people.

Hanlon, clutching at his face, rolls out of the ring. Just in time (heh) for our resident Time Lord to loom over him.

KER-CHUNK!

Enjoy your fresh new look, Hanlon.

Hayes Hanlon: GAAAH! What the fuck?!

Anna stares down at him, regarding their handiwork.

Anna Daniels: You look ridiculous.

Back in the ring, Gamble continues his merry work. Remember that chair from earlier? Tony Gamble does.

CRACK!

Now Youngblood knows it too.

He falls to his knees, giving Gamble and Daytona Diamonds the chance to beat him down even farther.

Nick Stuart: Team Jiles looking to control the ring! They’ve got two of Team Youngblood out of action for now, and they’re not done yet!

Indeed not. They jump into the Kael/Byrd confrontation, turning it into a triple-team and a one-way trip to ringside for the Behemoth.

That only leaves RIA and Cancer.

And Max.

And Tony.

And Daytona.

Richard Parker: This was their plan, Nick! Divide and conquer! Isolate one member of the team and get the advantage!

Nick Stuart: How come it took so long to pull it off?

Richard Parker: Well, if we didn’t have a referee who fell asleep on the job…

Nick Stuart: Richard! You know Cancer Jiles knocked him out. Three times!

Richard Parker: For the last one I pretended it was Jason Snow, so I could still enjoy it.

Lockhart has moved to the center of the ring, with all four denizens of the Snakepit slithering around her. Hands dart in, feet dodge away…RIA’s staying alive, but it’s only a matter of time unless she gets some help.

Anna Daniels won’t help. They’re watching the carnage unfold. And smirking a little.

El Cabron? Helping’s not his style. She could use the carnage as a distraction, but was just as likely to get caught in it.

So now her only shot at survival either comes from a miraculous recovery of one of her teammates…or Steve Lemieux.

Some days, right?

Lockhart puts up her fists, determined to go down fighting if nothing else.

And that’s when Steve Lemieux does something you might not expect.

Steve Lemieux: Hello? Excuse me? Mister Murder’s friend?

The dumbest thing possible.

OK, you probably expected that. But you might not have.

Anyway, he walks up the stairs and tries to get Tony Gamble’s attention.

Steve Lemieux: Hello, Mister Murder’s friend, Can you help me, I got turned around when–

Tony Gamble might be willing to humor this, even if just for a second.

Cancer Jiles is not.

CRACK!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

Steve goes flying off the apron, his shoe pinwheeling through the air and landing in the crowd.

Just like that, that particular side story was over. Just a momentary distraction.

Which is more than RIA needs.

CRACK!

Jiles catches a roundhouse kick to the head!

WHAM!

A running dropkick to Daytona Diamonds’ knee puts him down!

WHOOSH!

A cartwheel gets her around a wild swing from Gamble!

BOOM!

She leaps up to Gamble’s chest, then crashes down on him with Kneemotional Damage!

SPLASH!

I dropped my soup!

THUNK!

RIA spikes Max Kael’s head into the mat with a DDT!

BOO!

Anna Daniels doesn’t care for this turn of events!

Lockhart flops on top of Kael, pulling both legs for leverage.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Nothing else for it, then. Up she goes.

“RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

There she stands. On top of the ropes. On top of the world. All of creation at her feet. She sees the outstretched body of Max Kael on the mat. She sees her arc of flight. She sees…

…a streak of alfredo, coming right for her.

She leaps. Into the abyss, the unknown, the insubstantial, only her hopes to buoy her. And then…

Then, she soars. Above the outstretched arms of Cancer Jiles, beyond the reach of those who doubt. Those who hate. And then…

BOOM!

Then, she lands…at the End of the Rainbow.

“RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!”

Jimmy Turnbull drops down for the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE–NO!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The pin is broken up by a hard stomp from a big boot. Daytona Diamonds wipes blood from the corner of his mouth (his own or his opponent’s, who can say) and lays a few more boots in, just to be sure. Tony Gamble joins the party, pulling Lockhart up and lacing his leg around hers.

Stop Laughing at Me sends her face first into the mat. It’s a simple matter to turn her over for the pin.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

“RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!”

Keeping her pinned? Much harder.

Snarling, Gamble feeds her right to Daytona, who lifts her allllllll the way up…and brings her allllllll the way down.

BOOM!

Hang ‘em High Bomb.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE–

“RRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

Nick Stuart: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! RIA LOCKHART’S NOT DONE YET!

Richard’s too stunned to answer. He doesn’t believe it. Daytona doesn’t believe it. You probably don’t even believe it, and you saw it.

Daytona pushes himself away, and the Psychoberry starts to rise. Her eyes aren’t open, her knees aren’t steady…but her fists are shaking. She finally cracks an eye, laser focused on the Rhinestone Cowboy. She steps forward and

CRACK!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The Cruelest Stroke.

Max Kael delivers the killing blow to the back of RIA’s neck. She crumples. Max covers.

ONE!

The light in her eyes, snuffed out.

TWO!

The fire in her heart, never.

…

But sometimes…

THREE!

…the fire is not ready to burn its brightest.

DING DING

Vince Howard: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, RIA LOCKHART HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Nick Stuart: What an incredible performance tonight by RIA Lockhart…unfortunately, she faced an onslaught that was just too much.

Kael celebrates with his teammates. Well, Tony celebrates. Daytona growls, and Jiles backs up from the group far enough to flash some numbers at his opposite number.

Four.

Three.

Ha.

Cancer Jiles has committed a great number of unforgivable sins in a PRIME ring, and now he can add one more to that list: math.

Clay Byrd snarls. He hates math.

Okay, Clay Byrd hates most things. And since math isn’t on the (very short) list of things he loves…well, there’s only one other option.

He charges headlong into the celebration. The braver souls (Daytona) stand firm, while the other, more…lateral thinkers, scurry for cover.

The big cowboy drops the slightly less big cowboy with a shoulder block. Max Kael doesn’t escape far enough, and gets punched in the face for it. Gamble makes it out of the ring; Jiles isn’t so lucky. Byrd wraps his big ol’ arms around Cancer’s little ol’ head, dragging him back to the center before dropping the Manhunter with a bulldog.

Gamble sees an opening, but it’s quickly closed when Hayes Hanlon–who finally got that staple out of his head–clamps his hands around Tony’s ankle. The Grin ain’t going anywhere.

Youngblood works over Max Kael; softening him up with knees before slamming him down with a gutwrench suplex. Kael rebounds quickly, but gets dropped again with a release German. Max still gets up, he’s a resilient cuss, but he’s definitely slowing down. That gives Brandon time to cinch up the half hatch and throw him one more time.

“RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

WHAM!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

Then Daytona Diamonds shows up to crash the suplex party.

Nick Stuart: Diamonds is not about to let his team lose momentum! He just floored Youngblood with that double axe handle!

The Rhinestone Cowboy pulls a dazed Youngblood up to his feet. Throws Brandon’s arm around his neck. Grabs a handful of the Tower’s singlet.

You call yourself “Suplex Daddy?”

Oh, hell naw.

There’s only one Daddy in this ring, and he’s about to show everyone why.

Besides, you can keep your Germans, your Hatches, your Dragons and Tigers and Exploders, oh my. This one’s reserved for a select few.

Up.

Nick Stuart: Oh my God, look at that strength! Daytona Diamonds just lifted Brandon Youngblood straight up into the air…and he’s just holding him there! No strain at all, like he was lifting Ria Lockhart!

Richard Parker: If he did that to Lockhart, she’d have hit the ceiling by now!

But a display of power’s not enough for a Whoresman. He needs to establish dominance.

Which he does by marching in a circle around the ring.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

Some fans hate this show of arrogance at the expense of one of their heroes. Others are delighted by the power and audacity required.

Nobody’s quiet.

But for a man as dedicated to excess as ol’ Eduardo Dinero, even this is not enough.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!”

He holds out one of his arms, keeping the Diamond stable with only one. Youngblood is still ramrod straight, even with the lessened stability and the blood rushing to his head.

All right, ‘Tona. You’ve got an arm free. What are you going to do with it?

Well, he’s gonna make a circle with his hand.

Then he’s gonna make the call.

“WHORE’S UP!”

Anna Daniels, being the lone Smen to Daytona’s Whore, sticks her fist into the hole Daytona made in his hand.

Tony Gamble lends a finger to the cause–probably hedging his bets in case this Red Army thing doesn’t work out.

And.

Down.

WHAM!!

The Whoreplex, delivered with ring-shaking force. Certainly enough to put anyone away, even if it is the Tower of Babel.

Diamonds rolls over into a lazy cover.

ONE!

TWO!

“RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”

…

Okay, maybe not.

Let’s check in on Max Kael. It’s important to do that every so often, just to see what he’s up to.

You don’t want to know what he’s up to…but it’s better than letting him run around unsupervised.

Anyway. He’s outside the ring now, standing face to face with El Cabron. It seems the masked menace has finally chosen his target. Sure, he may have long-standing resentment for Youngblood and Jiles and Hanson. Sure, some of them may tax his gig on the drug thing, like Diamonds and Hanlon. Sure, some of them have disgusting facial features, like Gamble and Byrd and Hanlon.

But Max Kael is a mayor.

That makes him…the GUBMINT.

El Cabron flies into a furious rage, kicking and punching and scratching and biting and at least one of them is going to need shots for that.

Nick Stuart: El Cabron looks like he’s trying to cash in on Youngblood’s bounty with every attack!

Richard Parker: Like I said, Nick. Sound financial planning.

Max defends himself, in between a lot of “How dare you”s and “Unhand me, you cretin”s. El Cabron doesn’t listen, and probably can’t hear, what with his own cries of “fascist scum” and “I’m gonna smoke that money for the people.”

Richard Parker: Preview of the 2028 Presidential debates!

Nick Stuart: Don’t you dare speak that evil into existence.

More fighting. More screaming. More cries of “what makes you think you have the right to touch me” and “the GODDAMB bounty you stooge” and then…

…Max stops.

Confused at first…and then, realization.

Max Kael: I’ll be right back!

Then…he dives under the ring.

Nick Stuart: …

Richard Parker: …

El Cabron: …

Yep. He’s gone.

El Cabron: YOU BETTER NOT BE AFTER MY GUSHERS!

Cabron ducks under the apron as well, suddenly protective of his candy stash.

God, I hope he’s talking about the candy.

Hayes Hanlon is now chasing Tony Gamble around the ring. Hayes has the speed and stride advantage, but Gamble makes enough quick detours to increase the distance. Hopping over the stairs that Hayes has to go around. Pausing on the far side of the announce table, then darting away when Hanlon comes after him. Detouring up the entrance ramp, just to knee Steve Lemieux in the head as he goes by.

Steve Lemieux: Ow!

Mr. Beefst spins around; when he stops he gets an eyeful of Hayes’ glorious pectoral muscles as Home Run Hayes bowls him over.

Steve Lemieux: Oof!

And finally into the ring, where Tony Gamble can be closer to safety. And Clay Byrd. Wait, that’s not safe at all!

Hayes Hanlon follows, sliding under the bottom rope, hopping up to his feet, and then–

CRACK!

“OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Terminal Cancer. You’d swear the Mustache of Glory went flying into the crowd.

Hayes’ eyes glaze over. He teeters…

…and…

…falls.

He barely notices as the King of COOL tries to roll him over. He’s so far underwater right now that the ghosts from the Titanic are asking if he needs help. His body is dead weight

The head is no better. That superkick turned him off. No commands are going through. No thoughts bubbling up. If he feels anything when Cancer Jiles lays on top of him, he doesn’t show it.

But somewhere, way down deep…a tiny voice. Barely a whisper.

What the absolute fuck you are NOT going down like this are you seriously going to let this blonde prick show you up? Send you out first? At Culture Shock? In the main event? That is bullshit this is YOUR show and YOUR moment and if he thinks for–

ONE!

–goddamn second that he’s gonna get away with that he is in for the surprise of his stupid shitty life, he thinks he’s the star well you’re the Event Horizon you SWALLOW stars and crush them into nothing with your gravity if he doesn’t like it that is–

TWO!

–damn bad, now get your ass off the mat and remind these pricks who they’re dealing with, show them that YOU’RE the attraction, YOU should have been a captain, YOU charge for the mustache rides ‘cause they’re too great to give away for f–

THREE!

But as much as Hayes shouted at himself, he wasn’t listening.

…

Except for one part.

His shoulder.

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”

Nick Stuart: Hayes Hanlon stays alive! I swear, he must have kicked out as a reflex!

Richard Parker: That’s what makes Hayes so dangerous, Nicky! He’s got that hidden tank, the one he can dip into for a little something extra! And he always opens that up in big moments like this!

Jiles isn’t about to give him the chance; he grabs the Comeback Kid by the head and pulls him up for another killshot. Instead, he gets a punch to the gut.

Didn’t you hear his inner monologue? This is the Hayes Hanlon Show, motherfucker.

He scoops up Cancer Jiles and slams him down in the center of the ring. Jiles gets back up…scoop, and slam.

Oh yeah. It’s that kind of party.

Jiles goes up again…and down.

“SCOOP SLAM PAR-TY!” CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP

“SCOOP SLAM PAR-TY!” CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP

Nick Stuart: Another scoop slam by Hayes Hanlon! How many of these can he do?

Richard Parker: INFINITY! INFINITY TIMES! AND I WILL BE COUNTING!

“SCOOP SLAM PAR-TY!” CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP

Tony comes in to break up the part, and immediately gets caught up in it as Hayes scoops him up…and slams him onto Jiles.

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Daytona Diamonds steps in.

Scooped. Slammed.

“SCOOP SLAM PAR-TY!” CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP

Max Kael emerges from under the ring, holding a black cloth bag.

Max Kael: Brandon! Thank you for the donation to my reelection campaign! I’ve got–WWAAAAAAGHH!

Scooped. Slammed.

“SCOOP SLAM PAR-TY!” CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP

El Cabron is next, still chasing after Kael.

Scooped. Slammed.

El Cabron: GGWWAAAAARRRRRKKKHHHH!

Now it’s Anna Daniels’ turn. She…throws Steve Lemieux into the ring.

Scooped. Slammed.

“SCOOP SLAM PAR-TY!” CLAP CLAP CLAP-CLAP-CLAP

Clay Byrd steps in to admire Hayes’ handiwork. Jiles has started to look flat, after all those bodies have been thrown at him.

But you know what? He could be flatter.

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!

Nick Stuart: GOOD LORD! Hayes Hanlon has scooped up Clay Byrd! Look at that power!

The scoop doesn’t last long, as Hanlon slams Byrd onto Cancer very quickly. It clearly took something out of Hayes too, and he clutches his lower back.

He shakes it off. There’s still one invite to send out for this party.

Brandon Youngblood.

Youngblood’s right there when Hayes goes to look. He’s been waiting for his turn.

The scoop.

…

“AAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW…”

Nick Stuart: It looks like picking up Clay Byrd took too much out of Hayes!

Hayes–never one to let the party die out–tries again. He actually gets Brandon up this time, but his knees are looking really shaky.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Even moreso when Tony Gamble kicks one of them.

Hayes topples, with the Tower landing on top of him. Brandon rolls off, and Tony is on Hanlon like a shot, raining punches down with all the strength he can muster.

It might be enough to put Hayes away for good…but it’s not enough to stop Clay Byrd.

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

Clay pulls Tony up by the hair, then pulls him into a standing lariat.

WHAM!

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

That delivers him straight into Hayes Hanlon, who lariats him again.

WHAM!

Dazed, he stands up…with some help. If only that help was from one of his friends.

Brandon Youngblood is, quite famously, not Tony Gamble’s friend.

WHAM!

Diamondplex.

Jimmy Turnbull skips through the carnage and gets in position for the count.

ONE!

Help’s not coming. Hanlon has Daytona locked down. Byrd is all over Kael. Jiles is a pancake.

TWO!

It’s up to Tony to reach deep into his bag of tricks. He does so, and comes up…

THREE!

…with nothing.

DING DING

Vince Howard: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, TONY GAMBLE HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

“RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!”

Nick Stuart: The sides are even now! I’d even say Youngblood’s team has the advantage, with the state Jiles is in!

Richard Parker: I know the state he should be in. West Virginia. Or Double–

Max Kael somehow stands up on his spaghetti legs. Amazingly, he still has that cloth bag. Once he gets his bearings, he presents it to…Brandon Youngblood?

The mics pick up just enough of what Max is saying.

“Two thousand apiece, right?”

And he opens the bag.

Brandon, against his better judgment, looks. And is horrified.

He slaps the bag out of Max’s hand, spilling its contents all over the ring.

Nick Stuart: Is that…

Yes, Nick. Yes it is.

If you ever wondered if there are limits to Max’s depravity (LOL), now you have your answer.

Suddenly, the canvas is littered with teeth.

Hundreds.

Hundreds and hundreds.

Of teeth.

“OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Max Kael: They’re all mine! Grew them myself! Now pay up!

A brief negotiation takes place, wherein Youngblood explains the rules of his bounty proposal.

He does this by punching Max Kael in the head.

Max, for his part, is shocked. Shocked! To think that this man–this worm would renege on a gentleman’s agreement? With a mayor?! Have you no respect for the office? Have you in fact no respect for the mores and standards that hold our society together?

Because Kael sure as hell doesn’t.

That message comes in the form of a thumb to the eye.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

Negotiations having fully broken down, Kael reverts to the customary form of discussion in these situations: violence. Strike after strike, stinging Brandon about the head and torso at unplanned angles and wild energy. A kick doubles Brandon over. A roundhouse punch spins him around. Just enough for Max to slip in behind.

Nick Stuart: He can’t be going for–

Richard Parker: He is!

Blue Thunder Bomb.

Onto the teeth.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

Brandon howls in pain as the molars, bicuspids, and canines stick into his flesh. Jimmy Turnbull gingerly steps in for the pin.

ONE!

TWO!

NO!

Saved by the bell. Or boot, whichever you prefer.

Clay Byrd hauls up Kael and flings him away, sending the torrent of chaotic limbs into the corner. Hanlon works over Daytona in the opposite corner.

Jiles…still pancake.

Hayes looks over his shoulder and nods to Byrd. They each grab their assigned opponent by the hand and whip them toward the center.

WHAM!

“RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Diamonds and Kael collide in the center of the ring. Kael gets flattened, landing hard on the blanket of teeth. Diamonds stumbles forward, which only puts him closer to Clay Byrd.

That gets him a big ol’ boot. Cowboy dominance established, Clay goes for the pin.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Hmm. Needs more dominance.

While Hayes works over Kael, Brandon Youngblood slips to the outside for a short breather. Just a second to get his bearings and dig this tooth out of his back–

KER-CHUNK!

Might wanna get that staple, too.

Now sporting a toupee in the middle of his back, a furious Youngblood turns around to find Anna Daniels.

Anna Daniels: Hold still! It only counts if it’s on your head!

She readies another wig and her staple gun, but Youngblood does not feel like being cooperative.

KER-CHUNK!

So now he’s got a wig on his chest, too.

With a glare, he shoves Anna as hard as he can…and that’s pretty damn hard. Anna goes backward, where she collides with the ring steps.

CLANG!

Youngblood pulls the staples out of his body–

“OOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!!”

–and gets back to work.

He slides into the ring and jumps in with Clay Byrd, who’s stomping Daytona Diamonds into oblivion. Hayes is having it his own way with Kael, throwing the Black Heart of PRIME into the air and onto the teeth.

So gross.

Max still has some fight left in him, and Hayes works out how best to take it out. His plan, as always: go bigger.

He leaves the ring and ducks down to the apron. A quick search gives Hayes just the thing he was looking for.

“RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

It’s table time, baby.

Richard Parker: I think if he brings that in the ring, it would actually make it safer.

Nick Stuart: You might be right, partner! The wood is probably less dangerous than what Max Kael brought in!

Hayes does a spot of furniture moving, making sure to stomp Kael every so often so he can complete setup without intrusion. He rests the table in the corner, with one leg up so it catches on the ropes.

Next, to lift Max Kael. That’s a little harder, what with Kael being much heavier and less compliant. But Hayes is a very strong boy, and he manages.

Facing the center of the ring, he slaps his hands around Kael’s neck.

Nick Stuart: Is he going for the Epoch? Through the table?!

Richard Parker: Hayes Hanlon thrives in big moments, Nick! And sometimes he’s gotta make that moment first!

Hanlon lifts Hizzoner into the air.

He turns, putting Kael between himself and the table.

CRACK!

That…

…was not the table.

Terminal Cancer. Back of the head.

Kael scrambles free as Hanlon teeters…and again, falls forward.

CRASH!

That was the table.

Max pulls Hanlon from the wreckage and turns him over, just in time for a barely conscious Jiles to flop on top of him.

ONE!

No internal monologue this time.

TWO!

The lights are out.

THREE!

DING DING

Vince Howard: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, HAYES HANLON HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Richard Parker: HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME, HAYES HANLON? I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!

Nick Stuart: It’s three on two now! It’s starting to look dire for Team Youngblood, with Hanlon off the board and Jiles back in action…sort of.

Jiles hasn’t even gotten back to his feet. He just rolls off of Hanlon, allowing Max to push the Even Horizon out of the ring. Next to go are the chunks of table, which Max also dumps onto Hayes.

The mess cleared, Kael tries to slap Cancer Jiles awake. Three-on-two is only an advantage when all three are awake…and there’s still that bounty on the board; someone could come out at any minute.

SUDDENLY!

Ugh.

Nick Stuart: Here come the Intruders!

Richard Parker: Calling it now: one of them joins Jiles’ team so the other can claim an easy bounty.

Nick Stuart: That seems like an awful lot of planning for the Intruders.

Actually, we’ll never find out what their plan is. They stopped at the top of the ramp to…do something, who the hell knows…with no idea that someone else is coming up behind them.

And that someone is big.

No, that’s not right.

He’s Big.

“RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

WHAM!

Big John Pepper jostles between the Intruders, hard enough to send them flying off opposite sides of the ramp.

CRASH!

Nick Stuart: Looks like more people are getting in on the bounty, Richard! Maybe they’re not so scared of future repercussions after all!

Richard Parker: No one ever is, until they happen!

Pepper’s long strides carry him quickly to the ring, where he’s got his sights set on Cancer Jiles. Unfortunately, that direct path carries him right toward Steve Lemieux.

WHAM!

Steve also goes flying, and loses his other shoe. Pepper continues on unabated, but finally finds someone that makes him stop.

KER-CHUNK!

Anna Daniels doesn’t really know who Pepper’s here to collect on. But there’s a chance he could go after Daytona Diamonds, and that’s too great a risk to take.

So she wigged him in the ribs.

Pepper doesn’t care for that, and the brawl starts between them. Because sometimes a nature trail has detours, and you just gotta take ‘em.

Kael, Jiles, and Diamonds have now taken over the ring, with Cancer and Kael working over Byrd while Diamonds hammers away at Youngblood. The fists, the boots, the elbows and knees…each delivered with calculated precision. Each fueled by raw, uncontrollable fury.

Nick Stuart: Jiles and his teammates are really pushing their numbers advantage now!

Richard Parker: That advantage is just gonna get bigger as the sides cut down. Four-on-three is a nice edge, but three-on-two is even better. Don’t have to worry about as many people, or look in as many directions. Fewer targets, more focus!

Nick Stuart: Youngblood and Byrd are gonna need some kind of spark if they want to hold on.

A spark, Nick? No. They need a miracle.

Let’s see what we can come up with…

CHANGE YOUR HEART OR DIE!

“RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Nick Stuart: Blaze Claymore!

Richard Parker: There’s no way he’s still alive! Not after what he’s gone through this weekend!

Indeed, after his match on Night One, we wondered if we’d ever see Claymore again…and then he came out on Night Two and went through another huge fight.

But here he is, on top of the ramp. And…definitely looking like he’d been through two wars in as many days.

Max is apoplectic as Claymore hobbles down the ramp. Screaming at his teammates.

Max Kael: DESTROY HIM!

And at Claymore.

Max Kael: DESTROY YOURSELF!

And at the world in general.

Max Kael: DESTROY EVERYTHING!!!!

Nobody follows his instructions. Rude.

Jiles and Diamonds try to wrangle Kael back toward the task at hand, but the Reigning and Defending Mayor of Arkham isn’t having it.

Claymore doesn’t move as fast as Big John Pepper did, but he makes it to ringside where Pepper and Daniels are still duking it out, Lemieux is still on the ground, and El Cabron is picking up teeth in case Max Kael’s bounty plan actually works.

El Cabron: Find your own spot! These teeth are mine!

He takes a wild swing at Claymore, which Blaze ducks, then counters with a drop toehold. Luckily, El Cabron’s head doesn’t slam into the entrance ramp.

That’s because he lands right where Steve Lemieux is sprawled out.

Richard Parker: MEETING OF THE MINDS!

Steve Lemieux: Ooooooooooooooooh my beans!

Yeah, that sure wasn’t Steve’s mind that El Cabron landed on.

Claymore steps up to the apron, where Kael is frothing with rage.

Max Kael: YOU CAN’T COME BACK FROM THE DEAD AFTER I KILL YOU! THAT’S MY BIT! YOU CAN’T HAVE IT!

He charges into the ropes, but Claymore drops down just before collision. Kael rebounds harmlessly off the ropes; when he turns around he immediately sees the back of Cancer Jiles.

Huh. How did he get there?

Well, when two cowboys hate each other very much, one of them shoves the other really hard. Then that cowboy runs into his much smaller, much eggier friend, who stumbles back pretty hard ‘cause physics. And that’s how he ends up right in the path of a limb dervish with momentum in his legs and hate in his heart.

WHAM!

Both men drop like rocks. Claymore nods in satisfaction, and circles around to the other side of the ring where Diamonds and Youngblood are brawling.

Nick Stuart: Blaze Claymore is surprisingly nonchalant about the man who nearly hospitalized him yesterday!

Richard Parker: Yeah, you’d think it’d be Blaze all mad and Max not caring.

As a wise man once said: Pete, it’s a fool who looks for logic in the chambers of the human heart.

Not sure how that applies to Max, though.

Anyway.

Kael gets up and sees not his fellow Snake before him…but a Behemoth. Huge. Angry. Ready to assassinate a beloved community leader.

Only one thing for it. Kael reaches into his pocket and flings the contents at Clay Byrd.

Pocket Teeth!

…

They bounce harmlessly off Clay’s chest. Clay stares at them, then looks back at Max, who now wears a sheepish grin.

Max Kael: Heh. Wrong pocket.

Pocket Sand!

Clay Byrd: Gaahhhhh!

The Monster from Plainview staggers, suddenly blinded. Max laughs…giving Clay just enough of a clue to swing at, but not enough to actually hit. Kael scampers out of harm’s way, leading the blind Byrd toward his Squad Goals teammates and certain doom.

Outside the ring, Blaze Claymore is still staring down Daytona Diamonds, but not really doing anything. Anna Daniels has run out of wigs, and has only a staple gun to fend off a suddenly much hairier Big John Pepper. El Cabron slides back under the ring; the heat is on and it’s only a matter of time until the feds show up.

Five cops will be injured during his escape.

Hayes Hanlon is only just now starting to shift from the pile of debris he was left in. Lockhart and Gamble have already been hauled away by EMTs. Steve Lemieux should have been, but he’s still on the ground clutching his beans. One of the gurneys’ wheels caught him in the groin on its way past.

There, that should catch us up on all the supporting cast.

Meanwhile, the A story keeps heating up.

Jiles directs traffic from the corner, still not fully recovered from the Scoop Slam Party. Diamonds and Youngblood’s brawl has slowed to a crawl, each blow coming slower and hitting weaker.

Max Kael isn’t laughing himself silly at Clay’s plight–that would give away his position.

But he is having a sensible chuckle.

Byrd alternates between trying to dig the sand out of his eyes and taking hopeful swings at Max, who’s nowhere close…except when he darts in for a strike of his own, then skips away before Clay can retaliate.

His breathing labored, sweat and blood mixing into his eyes along with the sand, Clay raises his arm one more time…and points.

At…and empty corner.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Richard Parker: What the hell’s he doing?

Clay points again…this time to Max’s other side.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Despite his fatigue, Max is a little quicker on the uptake than our announcers.

Max Kael: YOU CAN’T HELP HIM! THAT’S NOT–

The Cowboy Colossus smiles.

And points.

“RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

If it weren’t for the mask, we could read Max’s thoughts all over his face.

Shit.

BOOM!

A double axe handle catches Kael flush on the jaw, sending him spinning into the air. The Behemoth points again, and he’s got a pretty good idea where Kael landed.

“RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Max forces his way to his feet, though he’s scared to open his eyes. When he does, he sees…an arm, stretching across his entire field of vision.

A Lariat, as big as all of Texas.

WHAM!

Byrd drops his prodigious bulk on top of Kael’s shoulders. Turnbull makes the count.

ONE!

Max has a plan for this. A scheme to see him through.

TWO!

But step one is “be awake.”

THREE!

So that will have to wait for another day.

DING DING

Vince Howard: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MAX KAEL HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

“RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!”

Nick Stuart: And we’re even again, at two apiece! But how long can these men last?

Richard Parker: I bet if you threw them all in a pile they’d pin each other. Just make sure Jiles is at the bottom.

Byrd staggers to a corner, propping himself up among the broken table shards that remain. He looks up to see that everyone else has done the same. Diamonds to his left. Youngblood to his right. Jiles straight ahead.

“RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

Nick Stuart: They’re feeding off the fans’ energy now! They just have to take whatever they can, and hope it’s enough!

Youngblood is the first to move. Convention dictates that he go after his opposite man, Daytona Diamonds…but no. He’s headed for Jiles. Always Jiles.

The King Cobra of the Snakepit slithers out of the corner to meet the Tower. He’s got no eyes for the Behemoth; he wants Youngblood. Always Youngblood.

Diamonds and Byrd have the same idea at the same time. They rush out of their corners–

WHAM!

–and lay out Youngblood and Jiles, respectively.

But certainly not respectfully.

Ha.

Diamonds and Youngblood spent the better part of five minutes beating the crap out of each other, but neither man seems to have lost interest. Daytona pulls Brandon into the corner, slamming his head into the turnbuckle. Blaze Claymore is drawn in from the outside, with plenty to say toward the King of the Rodeo.

Daytona snarls and glares at the Lighthouse, growling something that we can’t even air on PPV. Anna Daniels comes over to back up their stablemate, ready with a staplegun and a whole bag of head-fucking kicks.

Byrd hammers away at Jiles, but Cancer is showing more life now. He’s matching Clay strike-for-strike, though sometimes Cancer’s are aimed a little differently. A throat here, an eye there. But when Jiles goes for a kick to the Longhorn, he gets a quick and forceful reminder of a very important lesson:

Clay Byrd is not a nice man.

He is, in fact…a big mean fuck.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!”

And that’s the sound of Cancer Jiles catching a Size Huge boot right to the Eggs and Bacon.

He falls to the mat, allowing Clay Byrd to go for another pin.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

It’s not emphatic, but it’s enough.

Meanwhile, on the outside, tensions between Anna Daniels and Blaze Claymore are flaring. Claymore can barely defend himself, but he’s still keeping away from the business end of the staple gun.

Big John Pepper, suddenly free of Anna’s weapon, starts removing hairpieces from his person. It doesn’t feel good, but like Blaze Claymore, he’s already been through two insane matches this weekend; a few staples aren’t that much more trouble.

Hayes shrugged off assistance and wandered to the back a while ago. Steve Lemieux is still MURKED. It might take years of recovery and a team of scientists to un-MURK him after this. The Intruders…eh, who cares.

And then there’s Max Kael.

Max starts to regain consciousness, and takes stock of the situation.

The last thing he remembers is getting run over by a cowboy-shaped pickup truck. Now he’s on the floor and everyone’s ignoring him.

He probably got pinned. That’s bad.

But…if everyone’s ignoring him…

Max slides back into the ring and throws a pump kick at Clay Byrd’s face. Jimmy Turnbull admonishes him, and demand he leave the ringside area…but Max is the kind of person to ask important questions that other people don’t think about.

For example, when a referee tells him he has to go backstage, Max tends to ask things like…

“Or what?”

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

Nick Stuart: What the hell is this?! Max Kael got eliminated, and now he’s back in the fight like nothing ever happened! This isn’t fair!

Richard Parker: It ain’t about fair; it’s about what you can get away with!

Nick Stuart: Yeah? Well, Cancer Jiles sure has gotten away with a lot…

Richard Parker: Don’t you dare use my words against me! Not for him!

While Jiles works over Clay Byrd, Max goes to help out their other squadmate. He presents himself to Diamonds with an expression (so to speak) of “where do you need me?”

Dayonta needs Max to be over there, and communicates this by picking Kael up over his shoulder, getting a running start, then throwing him like a goddamn lawn dart, right at Brandon Youngblood.

WHAM!

Youngblood flies back into the corner, while Kael’s sudden loss of momentum drops him to the ground.

Well, that turned out to be pretty effective. He picks up Kael again, this time ramming the Mayor’s head into Youngblood’s stomach like a battering ram. Over and over, until Youngblood collapses in the corner.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Jiles grabs the chair that’s still hanging around and brings it down hard over Clay Byrd’s back. Diamonds stomps at Brandon’s right knee, while Kael scoops up a handful of teeth and grinding them into Youngblood’s forehead.

It’s all going fine and dandy until Jimmy Turnbull starts enforcing the rules again.

Richard Parker: Hey, I thought this match was supposed to be no rules!

Nick Stuart: Yes, but Max is out of the match now. So the rules apply to him again.

Richard Parker: I guess I can see–what?!

The argument between Turnbull and Kael is getting more heated. Now Diamonds gets involved.

Cancer Jiles sighs. Time to settle this in the usual way.

CRACK!

Terminal Cancer.

Oh…and Elvis had only just woken up.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Honestly, more laughter than booing.

It doesn’t last long, though. Not when they see what’s behind them.

Byrd is wobbly, but upright. Youngblood clutches his stomach, but he’s standing.

Both are very, very angry.

Youngblood ducks a wild swing from Diamonds. Exploder suplex.

“RRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Kael comes in hot–but too close. Arms wrapped around like a vice. Belly-to-Belly.

“RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

Clay Byrd gets involved, though his solutions are less technical and more “lift you overhead and throw you to the goddamn moon.”

“RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

OK, Max Kael doesn’t make it to the moon. But with the roll he makes it to the entrance ramp, where he lands on Steve Lemieux.

Steve Lemieux: Oof! My buns AND beans!

Back in the ring, things are getting desperate for Team Jiles’ anchor. But if Tona’s gotta go down, he’s going down fighting.

Diamonds bounces off the ropes and charges straight ahead, ready to flatten the Tower.

But again, Clay Byrd had that idea too.

Cowboy minds think alike, I suppose.

They have the same idea for what to do when they run into someone, too.

WHAM!

DOUBLE CLOTHESLINE!

Byrd and Diamonds collide with such force that the ring explodes.

Well, not really. But it’s plausible.

What did happen is that they cleaned each other’s clocks and fell to the ground in a heap.

They’re both down. That just leaves…

Oh, no.

Oh, yes.

Outside, the world is in chaos. So many people, representing so many interests, scrabbling in the muck and tearing each other’s throats out.

Inside…there are two men. And only two.

Both men, bent over and panting. Bleeding. Running on fumes. Might fall victim to a stiff breeze at any moment. But then they see each other…and they might as well have just started.

The King of COOL saunters to the middle of the ring. Youngblood stomps forward to meet him.

The snarling, stewing Diamond. The prickly, preening Manhunter.

It could only ever go like this.

CRACK!

Hard enough to shake the heavens.

…

…

The air goes out of Estadio Azteca.

The fans are too stunned to react.

Brandon Youngblood is so surprised that he forgets to fall for a moment.

Eventually reality catches up with him, and he crumples to the mat. There is the vague sense of someone looming over him, and the smug prick-ness radiating from Jiles’ smug prick face.

There is the sound of a steel chair clattering to the canvas. Even heavier is the sound of a dropping facade.

Both by the meaty, mighty hands…

…

…of Big John Pepper.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

Nick Stuart: Just when I thought I’d seen it all…Big John Pepper is joining the eGG Bandits!

Richard Parker: Maybe not! Maybe…okay, maybe Pepper just got confused because the one team are all dressed like lumberjacks! Lumberjacks and park rangers are natural enemies, everyone knows that!

JIles is too busy laughing to go for the cover. His remaining squadmate, Daytona Diamonds, has it covered.

ONE!

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

TWO!

But that’s how it goes.

THREE!

DING DING

Vince Howard: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BRANDON YOUNGBLOOD HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Richard Parker: I’m telling you, there’s got to be another explanation! Nobody in their right mind would ever–

Jiles raises his hand up as high as it will go toward BJP. Pepper–who barely has to raise his hand at all–meets it with a high five.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Nick Stuart: I think that seals it, Richard.

Richard Parker: I’m going straight to the nearest park and I am gonna litter so goddamn much…

The chaos is building at ringside, too. Daniels and Claymore are outright brawling. El Cabron is still out there somewhere. Security is finally removing Max Kael, while EMTs scrape Steve Lemieux off the floor.

But that all pales in comparison to what’s in the ring. Giants of PRIME. Titans. Larger than life, in size and personality.

Jiles.

Diamonds.

Pepper.

Byrd.

Oh, and you know how BJP dropped that chair earlier?

Guess who found it.

CRACK!

A swing like Paul Bunyan’s axe brings the chair upside Big John’s head.

CRACK!

Another one, straight down on Diamonds’ dome.

CRACK!

Blood sprays across the face of the chair as it collides with Cancer’s flesh.

Clay Byrd swings the chair like a man possessed. All the frustration, desperation, and pain has boiled over, ready to pour down on the enemy like molten metal in the forge.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

One after another, raining down like heaven’s own vengeance. Pepper is the first to falter, knocked back against the ropes by a glancing blow. Jiles catches one to the back and goes down. Diamonds…

“OOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!!!”

…grabs the chair.

Clay tries to wrench it from his grasp, but Daytona is holding on tight. He’ll hold onto that chair all night if he has to.

CLUNK! CRACK!

I…stand corrected.

Nick Stuart: Have you ever seen anything like that? Clay Byrd headbutted the chair, driving it into Daytona Diamonds’ face!

It gets the blood going on Clay’s forehead, but it also sends little birdies dancing around Daytona’s head. Byrd takes the opening, and rushes to the other side of the ring.

WHAM!

Big clothesline on Big John Pepper. He goes tumbling out of the ring, landing on…Steve Lemieux, somehow.

It’s tough to tell the difference between a clothesline and a lariat sometimes. Scholars can’t agree on a distinction between the two. The current prevailing theory is that it’s more about intent than technique. Lariats are something you feel, and not just when you get hit by one.

Basically, it’s the difference between what he did to Big John Pepper, and what he’s about to do to Cancer Jiles.

WHAM!

Texas Goddamn Lariat.

But he doesn’t go for the pin. Instead, he grabs a fistful of that alfredo hair.

Somehow, it doesn’t get messed up at all.

Byrd uses that hair to pull Jiles back up to his feet, and…

WHAM!

A short-arm Texas Lariat that turns Jiles completely inside out.

Now, he goes for the pin.

But Jiles is fine with that, insofar as he’s fine with anything right now. Turnbull’s on the other side of the ring, dealing with Daytona Diamonds and whatever the hell else is going on over there. Who’s going to count the pin?

ONE!

Wait.

What the fuck?

TWO!

Oh, you fucking crumb.

You crumbest of crumbs.

Your plaque is getting moved to the highest tier of the Crumb Hall of Shame for this.

THREE!

In the days to come, Cancer will claim the count was fast. That he kicked out before the three. That when the referee’s counting hand came down, he was giving Jiles the finger with the other.

In truth, Elvis Nixon’s count was far worse, more insulting, more insidious than Jiles could put into words.

It was…

…clean.

DING DING

Vince Howard: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, CANCER JILES HAS BEEN ELIMINATED!

“RRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

And then there were two.

Clay struggles to his feet, staring at Daytona all the while.

Daytona stares back, desperate to catch his breath.

All that came before…the hell that they walked through together, each believing the other was a devil.

All meaningless in the face of this.

From Squad Goals…to a Team Effort…to the most noble, most pure, most beautiful endeavor to be achieved in a wrestling ring.

A hoss fight.

“RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!”

Lefts. Rights. Middles. Sides. There’s not a single square inch of these boys that ain’t getting punched right now.

Punch after punch after punch.

Every swing brings fresh blood, staining the mat, decorating their wrist tape.

Every strike brings the sickening impact, a stomach turning crunch that turns into Beethoven once you’ve heard it enough.

God…doesn’t it make you feel alive?

“RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”

European uppercut. Forearm smash. Back elbow. Haymaker. One after another, challenging the stamina and resilience of both men. Neither one will stop…until one of them does.

Daytona Diamonds is the first to break. He’s thrown so many punches tonight. Now it was time to enact his secret master plan.

A kick.

Right to the gut, stopping the Clay Train in its tracks and shattering his momentum.

Let’s finish this goddam thing right.

He stepped into position. Threw his big damn arms around Byrd’s bigger damner torso.

Somehow, beyond all sense of reality…he lifts.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!”

Hang ‘Em High.

Bomb.

BOOOOOM!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

Nixon, still shaky but back on the job, slides into position.

ONE!

Maybe it was destined to end this way. The last cowboys, meeting in the street. No more gunfights after today; there will be no one left to duel with.

TWO!

Years of drinking alone, unable to share your load with the one person who would understand…because you’d sent them off to hell years ago.

THR–

Constantly looking over your shoulder, and knowing that he’s coming for revenge.

KICKOUT!

“RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

Nick Stuart: This has been insane. The hell these men have gone through…and yet, they just keep going! Can anything stop these men?

Richard Parker: Not unless Cecilworth Farthington comes out and makes this a title match! And even then I wouldn’t put money on it!

Faces caked with blood. Clothes and hair stained. Seemingly running on stubbornness and hate.

Honestly, Clay Byrd’s height is the only way we can tell the difference.

“RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Nick Stuart: Clay Byrd is back on his feet! These two men just will not say ‘die!’

Richard Parker: While Cancer Jiles can’t spell it!

The seconds roll into minutes, agonizingly slow, as the two monsters force themselves to stand. Byrd comes out ahead, giving him time to work out the next problem.

He could barely move…and now, he has to run.

He leans backward, bouncing off the ropes and giving himself enough momentum to get started.

Off the opposite ropes. A little faster now.

And again. Faster.

Again.

Faster.

Faster.

Faster.

WHAM!

That, friends.

THAT…was a Lariat.

“RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

He drops down, almost missing Daytona entirely. He ends up half-covering the Rhinestone Cowboy’s legs…but that’s enough for a pinfall.

ONE!

That Texas Lariat…that has to be enough for a pinfall. It fuckin’ well better be, because Byrd’s got nothing left.

TWO!

Just one more fall of the arm, and it wouldn’t be his problem anymore. At last, some well-deserved rest.

KICKOUT!

Son of a bitch.

In an instant, Byrd puts away the thoughts that came up when the end was in sight. “I’ve got nothing left” is an excuse. If you don’t have something? You find something.

Byrd doesn’t throw a tantrum; he doesn’t argue with the referee. Even though that count seemed a little slow, it was a judgment call.

Next time, remove all doubt.

Clay drags Diamonds to the corner.

It takes a while.

He seats himself on the top turnbuckle.

That takes even longer.

He starts to drag Daytona up there with him…

With every passing second, every ragged breath, the excitement is building in the crowd. This is Culture Shock after all, and we’ve got at least one good one left in us.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Nick Stuart: I can’t even imagine what’s going through either man’s mind right now.

Richard Parker: Probably going to be one of the ring’s cross beams here in a minute!

He gathers his remaining power. Finding whatever scrap of fuel he can find. He’ll light himself on fire if it means he crosses the finish line. It comes out of him in a horrific growl.

Clay Byrd: GrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH–

A jerk of the arms, hoisting on Daytona’s waist. Not enough to shift the Anabolic Outlaw.

The Monster from Plainview sets his jaw, grits his teeth, and tries again.

Clay Byrd: GGRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA–

Daytona Diamonds: RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRHHHHHH!!!

Slowly but surely, Clay Byrd is lifted into the air as Diamonds pushes himself upright. It takes some doing…and then a lot more…but eventually Clay goes up and over!

WHAM!

Nick Stuart: My God, what a display of power! Clay Byrd is flat on his back–and if Diamonds just falls down, he could probably get the pin here!

Diamonds teeters on the second rope, held up only by his grip on the top. He stares out into the audience, their reactions slowly congealing into a single noise.

In his condition, even climbing down such a short condition could prove perilous.

So he doesn’t.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

He goes up.

Nick Stuart: Oh. My. God.

Richard Parker: No. NO, THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE!

Nick Stuart: He’s done it before, Richard. But never at a time like this!

Maybe there’s some sense of reason within Daytona’s mind right now. Constantly screaming, but always drowned out. But maybe right now it breaks through, and it’s telling Diamonds to back down, to not go through with this.

Hell, he doesn’t even look behind him. He wouldn’t be where he is today by listening to that voice.

How did he get here, then?

Well.

Daytona Diamonds is here because he runs from his problems. And now, there’s nowhere left to run.

There is only one option left. One way to feel free, just for a moment, before the past catches up to him.

He faces the sea of humanity that fills Estadio Azteca. He holds his arms out to the side.

And he leaps.

He soars.

Beyond the fears. The doubts. The regrets. The mistakes. The pain. They can’t touch him, any more than Clay Byrd can from all the way down there. If there were any kind of loving God in this universe, He would let Daytona keep flying. Up into the ether, beyond the cares of this miserable world.

But if there is a loving God, He sure as shit don’t love Daytona Diamonds.

He falls. Barely in control, his only hope to rotate enough that he doesn’t land on his neck. To stave off the consequences of his actions, for just one more day.

That’s all he ever really asks for. One more day.

Every day.

That request will go unanswered, and Daytona will have to pay the wages of his sin. He will bear the brunt of those consequences, and he will do so alone.

WHAM!

But not today.

Today, like every other day, it will be those closest to Daytona who suffer the most.

Neon Moonsault.

“RRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

Sure, Daytona’s a son of a bitch. But a near-300 pound man did a moonsault to an even bigger man, and that’s gonna be the most god-damnedest thing most of these people see in their whole lives.

Elvis Nixon makes the count.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

DING DING DING

“RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”
“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Vince Howard: THE WINNER OF THE MATCH, AND LONE SURVIVOR OF SQUAD GOALS…DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYTOOOOOOONNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA…DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNDSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!

FADE.

TO.

BLACK.