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Post by EXODUS Office on Apr 28, 2014 12:22:53 GMT -6
 April 28th, 2014
San Diego, CaliforniaI am the last man, stand, survivor
I am the last man home.
I’ll be the last man, stand, survivor
I’ll be the last man home… The familiar organ and lyrics that kick off "Last Man Standing" by People In Planes starts to play over the PA System, and the RIMAC erupts at the sound of it! Stepping out as soon as the second time through the opening lyrics start, Jonathan Collins is greeted with a warm reception from the San Diego audience! Jonathan is dressed tonight in some athletic shorts and an EXODUS Pro T-shirt, knowing he has a match later in the night. Shaking a few more hands on his way down to the ring, he steps in and is greeted warmly with a "SAINT OF VIO-LENCE!" chant. Stopping to bow at the diehard fans in Section B, he grins and calls for a microphone as the crowd continues to chant and cheer for him. Jonathan Collins: If you keep this up, we're never gonna get this show started. The crowd laughs a little and cheers a little more, Jon shrugging as he slowly starts to hop up to sit on one of the turnbuckles, waiting for them. Jonathan Collins: It's cool guys, I just work here! The crowd finally starts to die down as he hops off the turnbuckle, ready to kick off the show. Jonathan Collins: Okay, okay. So I kind of let things get a little crazy last time we did this. I let Cleon Gray get away with a little too much. That being said, Nicholas Gray and myself did some talking and I know our owner is in the building tonight. That being said, we've got some massive announcements about what's going on. First off, I'm happy to announce that with our partners in Pro Wrestling FRONTIER, we're going to have another GFC Tag Team Title defense here. They're sending a couple of guys over for Chandler Scott and I to knock down a peg in two weeks. What do you guys think? The crowd comes alive, listening to the fact that Collins will be gracing their presence for two straight shows, a "GoW!" chant starting as he pauses to let them accept the news. Jonathan Collins: Well that's not all. See, I realize we need something big like we always do for the last show...especially since we're going east for our next iPPV. Hey New York City, we're coming to you! In four weeks, at the Hammerstein Ballroom, we bring to you...ABSENT ARE THE SAINTS! And I promised to talk to you guys about something we're calling The Crucible. It's going to be a 20-man battle royal, where a new person will enter every 90 seconds. Now here's the catch...you can only be eliminated by going over the top rope...OR SUBMISSION. A crucible is supposed to be able to withstand very high temperatures, and I think this pretty much says it all. So next week's main event is going to allow us to determine who is entering at number one, and who wants to go in wherever they like. We're going to have a match between Abby Park, Angela Jameson, Chuck Matthews, and a person to be decided Tuesday morning! The person who takes the fall will get to choose their entry number into the Crucible, while the person taking the fall will be entering at number one. How's that for big? Anyways, sit back and relax...the night's just getting started. "Last Man Standing" starts to play again, and Collins smiles as the crowd cheers again while he starts to make his way toward the backstage area. As he gets to the top of the stage, he grins as he turns back around to the crowd, his eyebrow raised. Jonathan Collins: Did I mention whoever wins the Crucible gets the next World Title shot? The crowd explodes more as Jonathan shrugs innocently and we instantly cut backstage. |
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Post by EXODUS Office on Apr 28, 2014 12:27:39 GMT -6
The scene slowly fades in to the backstage area after all that, where we see Tom Matheny standing by. He's got his microphone in his right hand and a small smile on his face as he waits for the camera to start rolling and for him to start his job of interviewing. Tom Matheny: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome at this time....BLAKE JONES! The San Diego audience lets out a solid pop as the Philly Young Gun makes his way into the scene, dressed in street clothes (dark blue jeans and a orange and black Flyers tee). He does not seem ready to go here tonight as there seems to be no gym bag in sight. He keeps a stoic look about him as he looks out past the camera. Blake Jones: If you don't mind, Tom. I'd prefer if you didn't ask me any questions and just give me the microphone so I can just get these things off my chest. Tom looks at Blake with confusion. Tom Matheny: Oh...ok. Here you go. Blake turns to Tom and is handed the microphone before Tom steps out of camera view. Blake turns to the camera, a sigh escaping him as he slowly begins to speak. Blake Jones: I'm going to start off this little talk with an apology. I apologize for the fact that I won't be wrestling here tonight. I won't be wrestling because as of 12:00AM Friday, I am no longer signed to an EXODUS contract. Some of you may find this selfish of me but without a contract, I don't wrestle. Blake lets out another sigh. Blake Jones: I...don't plan on returning to EXODUS for the time being. I have ended my one year contract here and I honestly have had a lot of fun and I've been through a lot of damn good matches. I will forever remember my War Games victory and my San Diego Bay title victory. I've made some great friends and I've had some dickish enemies... Jones waves at the camera. Blake Jones: Hi Daisuke. Shots of audience members chuckling at the fate Daisuke suffered thanks to Blake Jones and company. Blake Jones: But for now, this is goodbye, EXODUS. Maybe I'll be back one day. Maybe I won't and you guys will just move on and watch some of the greater talent here do work. I just want to thank each and every person whose cheered me on. I wanna thank everyone who has doubted me, because it has managed to have drive me even more. And I want to thank all of my opponents in the past for the fights that they've given me. Blake nods his head and gives the camera a big smile. Blake Jones: Be seeing you around, EXODUS. Blake hands the mic back to Tom Matheny (who's gotten back into view) before giving the camera one last nod and shaking Tom's hand. He slowly makes his way towards the exit as the scene finally fades out when he exits the arena, and we go back to Dick & Seth. Seth Ericson: WHAT?! I can't make fun of him anymore? Dick Morosi: This is a huge development, Seth. Blake Jones is no longer contracted to EXODUS Pro! Seth Ericson: I'm of two minds on this. One, this is a huge loss, as we've lost one of our biggest stars. On the other hand, he kind of just pussed out here. What's up with that, man? I thought he was better than that. Dick Morosi: Would you wrestle if Cleon Gray was punishing you? Seth Ericson: Point made. Dick Morosi: Let's just prepare for our next match! Ambrosia is making her EXODUS Pro debut against Justin Brooks...next! SINGLES MATCH
AMBROSIA vs. JUSTIN BROOKSThe screen cuts into static and then a cacophony of different grotesque and bloody images, mixed with headlines from various newspapers of murders, mutilations, rapes and wars as "Apex Predator" by Otep plays. Stepping out onto the stage, Ambrosia grins sadistically, letting out a scream to the sky as she cracks her neck to the left and right before walking down the ramp. David Zinkus: Making her way to the ring, from Lexington, Kentucky, she is the "Harlequin of Hardcore"......AMBROSIA!!! At this, Ambrosia walks around the ring before rolling in under the bottom rope. She looks out at the crowds, using the ropes as bars, like someone jailed within. Getting back up, Ambrosia walks to the corner and steps up on the turnbuckle, grinning sadistically at the fans. Bringing her hands out to her sides, she mocks the fans and then drops back down to the ring before dropping to her knees and letting loose a guttural scream. Dick Morosi: This girl from Lexington, Ambrosia. She’s got a unique look, and a lot of promise, but more importantly a tall task ahead of her. Seth Ericson: Yeah, in the form of a six foot four, two hundred and sixty-seven pound hoss. "TO BEAT ME, YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO SUFFER." You were my conscience, so solid, now you're like water
And we started drowning, not like we'd sink any further
But I let my heart go, it's somewhere down at the bottom
But I'll get a new one and come back for the hope that you've stolen
I'll stop the whole world, I'll stop the whole world
From turning into a monster eating us alive
Don't you ever wonder how we survive?
Well now that you're gone, the world is ours David Zinkus: Now coming to the ring...hailing from Atlanta, Georgia...standing at 6'4" and 267 pounds, he is Justin Brooks! I'm only human, I've got a skeleton in me
But I'm not the villain, despite what you're always preaching.
Call me a traitor, I'm just collecting your victims
And they're getting stronger
I hear them calling.
(Calling, Calling)
I'll stop the whole world, I'll stop the whole world
From turning into a monster eating us alive
Don't you ever wonder how we survive?
Well now that you're gone, the world is ours A large chorus of cheers erupt from the E-Pro faithful as Justin Brooks appears from the curtain and stands there with a smile on his face as he places his hands on his waist. “Monster” by Paramore continues to blast through the PA system as he keeps his eyes on the middle of the squared circle as he slowly makes his way towards the ring, sliding underneath the bottom rope and quickly standing to his feet and looks amongst the crowd with a large smile on his face. Justin just leaps to the second turnbuckle and throws his hands in the air before leaping down from the turnbuckle. Dick Morosi: Brooks has picked up a lot of wins since his return. He’s looking to notch another one on his belt. Seth Ericson: And beat Ambrosia with that belt in the process, and I won’t lie, I’d like to watch that. The bell rings and Ambrosia clinches Justin’s neck, pulling him down into a textbook headlock. She knows she’ll have to use her speed, and do whatever she can to wear the Big Bad Brooks down to avoid being subjected to his might. The well traveled Georgian pushes the Kentuckian away, showing that his strength will not be nullified by the debuting rookie. Ambrosia looks less than impressed, and more importantly, not unflustered. She charges at him, ducking a Clothesline attempt, only to strafe behind him and plant her boots into his spinal column with a Dropkick, sending him flying forward. However, Justin uses his momentum to bounce off the ropes before coming back with a stiff Clothesline, almost turning her inside out. Brooks quickly pulls her up to a vertical base, looking to keep the advantage after just flattening her with the 20 inch python. He lifts her up with relative ease, then slams her down with a basic Body Slam - and although it may be a common move for powerhouses such as the UWL World Champion, it doesn’t mean that it’s any less painful. The proof is in Ambrosia’s face, as its contorted in a grimace. The Big L plays to the crowd, who are firmly behind him as they’ve been since he’s returned and put up a streak of impressive victories. As she rises, Brooks tosses her back with a German Suplex, but she lands on her feet with cat like reflexes. With Justin scrambling to get back to her feet, she quickly climbs up on top the top rope. As soon as the Atlantan turns around, she leaps off with a Missile Dropkick, sending the Heavyweight back down. Ambrosia immediately goes for the cover. Dick Morosi: Ambrosia is firing on all cylinders right now after she withstood Justin’s opening offense. I’m definitely impressed. ”ONE!”
“TWO!- Kick Out”Brooks uses his strength to toss the Kentuckian into the air to break the count. She quickly gets to her feet and scurries for the ropes, hitting Brooks with a Yakuza Kick just as soon as he ascended to a knee. She follows up with a standing Double Foot Stomp, driving her feet into Triple B’s sternum. She quickly goes for the cover again, trying to maintain the pace with hasty pinfalls. ”ONE!”
“TWO!- Kick Out”Brooks powers out once again; he tries to scramble to his feet, but Ambrosia keeps the pressure on with repeated kicks to the chest and midsection. Having kept her adversary at bay, Ambrosia makes a beeline for the ropes. She rebounces, however Triple B is waiting for her. His embrace is anything but inviting, as he encircles her arm into a waistlock before tossing her overhead with a magnificent Belly To Belly Suplex. She lands right on the small of her back, and writhes in pain in response. Seth Ericson: Damn. Brooks has all the tools, Dick. Charisma, raw power. He could solidify himself as a power player here in EXODUS again with displays like that. Dick Morosi: Absolutely. He’s been the welcoming committee to newcomers lately, but another win in impressive fashion and he’ll certainly be a top contender for either our three championships. Brooks picks Ambrosia up, and whips her into the ropes. She ducks a Clothesline and catches him on the rebound with a Low Dropkick, springs back to her feet, then levels him with a Bulldog. She goes for the cover again. ”ONE!”
“TWO!- Kick Out”Brooks isn’t having it. He rolls a shoulder over, unable to toss her into the air, but able to preserve his chance at winning all the same. She scrambles back to her feet, eyeing him, thinking about possible ways to finish the veteran off and make an immediate impact in EXODUS. She waits for him to regain her bearings, and when he does she goes for a toe kick - but the Big Bad Brooks catches her foot. He swings her leg around, causing her to rotate, and when she comes back he lifts her up before slamming her down with a thunderous Spinebuster. He executes a lateral press. ”ONE!”
“TWO!- Kick Out”Brooks is slightly flustered now, half impressed that Ambrosia has put up such a fight, yet half disappointed in himself that it’s taken this long for him to finish her off. Looking to finally meet his own expectations he drags the Kentuckian back to her feet, and goes to lift her up onto his shoulders for the Hook N’ Ladder. Whether she scouted the move or not, she knows that nothing good can come of it, and immediately squirms. She ends up sliding out of the perilous predicament, landing right behind Triple B, whom she immediately locks in a rear waist lock. She pushes him forward into the ropes, but the astute vet grabs onto the cables to prevent himself from behind pulled back, sending his debuting diva rolling back empty handed. As she rolls to her feet, the Big Bad Brooks turns around, looking to take back the advantage. He charges forward with a wild Clothesline - a move that fails to hit it’s mark as the young rookie dodges it and avoids becoming a headless harlot. She quickly leaps onto the top rope, then dives back at Brooks, capturing him in a front facelock before swinging her body down to the canvas. Her momentum pulls the Georgian off his feet, and she is able to spike him head first right into the mat with a resounding thud. Seth Ericson: What a DDT! She dropped Brooks right on his chrome dome. With Brooks lying motionless, Ambrosia immediately goes for the cover, hooking his near leg. ”ONE!”
“TWO!
THREE!”Dick Morosi: She calls that “Absolution Comes Easy” but it didn’t for Justin Brooks. It was anything but that. But one things for sure, this one is over, and Ambrosia has picked up a big victory. WINNER: AmbrosiaDick Morosi: That is a HUGE victory for a debuting wrestler! Ambrosia just picked up a victory over Justin Brooks! Seth Ericson: I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty impressed! Dick Morosi: While Ambrosia celebrates, let's head backstage! We cut backstage, and Justin Brooks seems to be coming from the ringside area, Tom Matheny trying to walk with him. Tom Matheny: Justin…you just went to war with Ambrosia out there and I was wondering if I can… Justin places his hand on top of the microphone before forcefully pulling it from his Tom’s hand. Justin Brooks: If they want to continue to do this to me…if they want to continue to parade me out there to open up for EXODUS over and over and over again…then so be it. But I refuse, Tom…I refuse to be the good little soldier in EXODUS, I refuse to continue to stand at the back of the line and be happy about it. If this is the way things are going to be…if this is how things are going to play out…. Slowly closing his eyes, Justin slowly shakes his head as he holds the microphone so tightly that the microphone begins to shake. Justin Brooks: …then I can’t be held responsible for what happens next. My hands are going to be clean from the blood that gets spilt in EXODUS. They did this…they pushed and pushed and it’s only but so long before eventually, I push back. Why don’t you go run off and go tell the ‘Powers That Be’ that? Justin forcibly pushes the microphone into the chest of Tom as he storms off leaving Tom to wonder what just transpired as we go to commercial. |
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Post by EXODUS Office on Apr 28, 2014 12:38:58 GMT -6
The scene flickers back to a locker room, a desk on the far side with the leather damaged office chair turned away from the camera. It was then that the man spun towards our view, Zack Lifer dressed in a sweatshirt underneath a brown vest, a brown beanie atop his head with a smile on his face, his hands on the desk itself as he looked around the room.
Zack Lifer: So, promise me you’ll all stay safe back here, okay? It’s a big backstage area here at the RIMAC and I don’t want any of you getting lost. Besides, I made a promise to your mom, Rose. You’ll all be fine.
The people that Lifer’s speaking to are none other than Knoxville Wrestling Institute: Coalition’s own Rosalyn Darling, Leonardo Fernandes, and Bayani Arroyo. The New Trifecta. Also with them is Jessica Sears, Bayani’s girlfriend. They had traveled to San Diego together to not only support Lifer, but Rosalyn asked them to on a personal matter. Rosalyn folds her arms, not exactly happy with her mentor’s words.
Rosalyn Darling: Seriously? You can’t expect us to just sit here and watch… I told my mom that if anything happens, I’ll take full responsibility. I’m an adult.
Bayani and Jessica are keeping to themselves. They much prefer Lifer’s request to stay back. Technically, it’s not their business. Leonardo shakes his head and places a hand on Rosalyn’s right shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
Leonardo Fernandes: Let’s just do as Mr. Lifer asks of us, Lil Red.
Rosalyn rolls her eyes, though she has no choice. Zack looks around the room, trying to decide what to say next, trying to calm the situation down.
Zack Lifer: Listen to Leo, Rose. I don’t mean to treat you like a child, and I know you’re an adult who can take the credit for your own actions. I just know EXODUS isn’t exactly as safe as KWI right now. You’re my trainees. You’re like my extended family and I care a ton about each one of you. And if you get hurt, well… Well, my fault or not, I’d blame myself, does that make any sense?
He tried his best to explain it to them, trying to speak as clearly as he could so they would comprehend the issue at hand here. You could easily hear the emotion in his voice, almost desperate to protect them. He took his job as a trainer very seriously, to everyone’s surprise. Despite her reluctance of the entire situation, Rosalyn isn’t heartless. She can sense Lifer’s emotions and it causes her own stubbornness to decrease. Sighing, she nods.
Rosalyn Darling: ...Alright. Just know that we’re here for you, Lifer-sensei. We’re the Disciples of Lifer, remember? You may not think you need our help, but… You never know.
She looks back at her boyfriend and her friends. They look back at her and nod in unison. It seems they’ve come to an agreement and everything is sorted out, that is until a certain infamous cult leader makes his presence felt.
Christum Furor: Well… well… well what do we have here?
The entire atmosphere becomes tainted now as the group focuses their attention on the former World Champion. Unable to tell whatever his expression may be, Lifer looks directly into the eyeholes of Christum Furor’s burlap mask, hoping to read some sort of reaction but sees nothing. The group, unamused by the intrusion, tries to take a step past him but the masked man steps in front of Zack and lets out a low tittering giggle.
Christum Furor: A-hah-hah-ha! Is this it, Nick? Is this your big happy family? Ah, yes… they are, aren’t they? And you-
The madman playfully points in Rosalyn’s direction, immediately making her uncomfortable.
Christum Furor: Ah I remember you. The pretty little girl with the loud mouth. The naive little girl who rants about me not being a GOD, spewing the same prosperterous rhetoric as THIS man over here, yet I find it interesting how you quiver and flinch in front of me. What do you think, Nick Kramer?
Looking around at each other, the group doesn’t seem sure how to respond. Rosalyn, however, looks a little more irritated than the others. Lifer, shielding his friends and students, steps in front of Furor who continues to cackle in amusement.
Christum Furor:Such a hero you are, Nick, protecting those you care about from the monster they’ve heard so much about, yet have no understanding of. I suppose you’ve undersold me, Nick. Y-your audacity is almost disgusting. And you, little girl, you were so comfortable to insult and dehumanize me on a platform which you were safe from my wrath, where--
Zack Lifer: Dehumanize you?!
Lifer spat back aggressively in his direction. Furor shakes his head, shrugging off the interruption as he continues to stare into the eyes of his former disciple, and friend.
Zack Lifer: You’re a man claiming to be a deity and you’re complaining about being dehumanized? Your whole motif is about dehumanizing yourself! Gods & Monsters? That doesn’t exactly scream ‘take me as a human,’ now does it? Your logic is hilarious! And you better not lay a hand on Rose, you got that? She doesn’t concern you!
The leader of G&M claps mockingly, yet Lifer holds his position, growling in his direction before concerningly watching his friends for just a moment. Jessica seems a little frightened, hiding behind her boyfriend Bayani. He, Leonardo, and Rosalyn are standing in front of her, but they’re still behind Lifer. Deciding that they were all okay, Lifer takes aim at Christum once again.
Christum Furor: Oh but that’s where you’re wrong, Nick. She’s gone out of her way to make me aware of her existence, and now I have come to acknowledge it. She’s a brave little girl, Nick, you’ve trained her well - trained her to hold the same flawed ideals and maintain the exact same facade as yours. That false bravado, the confidence to speak about things that don’t concern you, about things that you can’t comprehend. She had no problem doing that in a forum that I didn’t control, yet here she is now. She is in my dominion. She’s uninvited, but alas, she’s here all the same. It’s a shame though, your timing, since these are precarious and tumultuous times in EXODUS. We’re embroiled in a civil war, and you know the sad thing about wars, Nick?
Furor shoots his gaze in Rosalyn’s direction now. She doesn’t seem to stand down or even move, glaring right back at him with fire in her eyes. It amuses him.
Christum Furor: They often have casualties, and collateral damage. And that’s what happens to heroes, Nick. When you take your holier than thou stance, one loaded with delusions and an over the top ego, life teaches you a lesson. THIS business teaches you a lesson. Your actions have repercussions. You’ve introduced your students to corruption, to a world filled with hate and malice and you think you can protect them from the shadows? You, Nick Kramer? How can you be their savior when you were unable to save yourself? They don’t know it, but there’s a darkness in you, a malevolence in your soul that they have yet to see… but I’ll give them the opportunity. I’ll show her just how heroic Nick Kramer really is.
Zack watched him intently, soaking in every single word as his fists began to clench, his back hunched forward almost animalistically in his office chair, staring a hole in Gunner’s burlap sack.
Zack Lifer: You’ve said that before, Gunner. You’ve said that countless times before and you know what? Let her see it. Let her see how I deal with monsters like you, how I deal with all your lackeys who stand against me. First, I took down Jerry Matthews, then it was Kira who felt the pain inside a steel cage. Tonight? I got two - Emi and Ryuji just asking for a beating and sooner or later, I’ll have Savannah’s head on a silver platter for what she did to Tiffani and her championship.
His eyes darted to Rosalyn, a gentle smile raising to his lips as he tried his best to explain himself. Rosalyn smiles back at him, though it’s a small one, knowing full well that right now’s not the time to be entirely happy. She’s confident, however, that her sensei can handle this.
Zack Lifer: You may not know it, but I’m not exactly a good person, not completely, Rose. You do what you gotta do to take down the people who threaten you, the people like Gunner and friends who try to act like they’re all that and a bag of chips. I’m sorry you gotta see this, I’m sorry you had to know, but I want you to know I don’t do all this as some messed up form of vengeance, no. I do it ‘cause this company, this business, this world deserves to be improved and nobody else has the balls to do it right but me!
His calmness gave way to shouting, his eyes flickering back to Christum once again, his calm demeanor coming back.
Zack Lifer: You wanna show the world what I’m capable of? Go ahead and show them. But they’ll know the truth. They’ll all know. I do this for the good of everyone, for the good of everyone in the RIMAC and watching at home. I do it for the pariahs who never get their way, who are forced to watch this planet decline like fish on the inside of the tank looking out. I do this ‘cause Mr. Collins and his group don’t accept me, so I’ll work at doing whatever the hell it takes to help their cause regardless whether they’re with me or against me, and do you know why? Because unlike you Gunner, I’m willing to make things right - the right way - and nobody better forget that, you hear me?!
Furor slowly removes the burlap mask, revealing a twisted smirk on his visage, and an even dastardly more look in his eyes. This is the first time Rosalyn gets a good look at his face… and it sends a shiver down her spine. She quickly dismisses this and keeps a calm demeanor-- at least on the outside. The fear should never surface in the presence of the enemy, especially him.
Christum Furor: So noble… so noble… but I’ll indulge you, nevertheless. I want to hear your plan Nick… but not here… not right now. No, you see it’s easy to make guarantees, it’s easy to act pure and honorable when everything is going according to plan. No, Nick, I want to see how strong your conviction really is, how your ideals and ethics will hold up once chaos is introduced into your perfect paradigm. THEN we’ll see what you’ll do… we’ll see what the great Nick Kramer has in store for this wayward world.
Furor’s smile disappears, a very detached expression now plastered on his mug as he slowly retreats from the shot, giving Lifer and company something to think about. Jessica slowly comes from behind Bayani and quivers, still uncomfortable. Bayani places a hand on her back and soothes her, trying to get her to calm down. Leonardo frowns, disgusted at the way Furor addressed them, especially his girlfriend. Rosalyn shakes her head, her fists clenched tightly. All Lifer himself could do was stare at that door, quietly grinding his teeth after the situation has passed, standing in front of his office chair with his fists still clenched and his mind on only one thing - Christum Furor, his eyes darkening at the thought. On that, we cut back to Dick & Seth.
Dick Morosi: Things are really heating up with Zack Lifer and Christum Furor. Zack's had three weeks to heal from some serious wounds the former World Champion inflicted, but the two seem to just be getting started.
Seth Ericson: Say no more, Dick.
Dick Morosi: There's a lot to say abou--
Seth Ericson: Just say no more. Let's move onto the next match.
Dick Morosi: It's a doozy, Seth! Set up by Cleon Gray as punishment for these two men, The Artist Formerly Known As Prince Kamijo will now meet Blake Jones & Griff--
We come back from that segment, and focus on the ring for our next match, a triple threat, one featuring the heavily fantasized-about PRINCE KAMIJO, RULER OF ALL THINGS TIGHT AND LEATHERY! The crowd sits in eager anticipation for something to happen, and finally it does! But not what they expected, as it’s not the music of Blake Jones, Griffin Hawkins, or the cutest man alive either. It’s the music of EXODUS Owner Nicholas Gray, appearing on top of the stage riding his segway, but his face is not the one of someone riding a hype-ass segway, it’s of someone who is not riding a segway. But he is riding one. How does that work? We will find out as Gray circles the ring twice in his segway before stopping, getting off and entering the ring. He holds a mic to his lips, looking out at the slightly confused crowd, and begins with two words.
Nicholas Gray: Prince Kamijo.
The crowd goes apeshit.
Nicholas Gray: I know he’s lov-
The crowd is still going apeshit.
Nicholas Gray: ...yep. Well, he’s-
They’re still going.
Nicholas Gray: ...I made a mistake.
The crowd has stopped going apeshit, realizing that wasn’t an introduction for the man.
Nicholas Gray: ...’kay. As I was gonna say...much as I love Kamijo, and wanted to see him perform tonight cause, let’s face it, he was gonna kill those two.
The crowd goes slightly, really only 35% apeshit at the idea.
Nicholas Gray: ...but, I’ve decided that match won’t be taking place tonight. I cancelled it.
The crowd goes -58% apeshit. Gray looks out at the silent, angry crowd of Kamijoholics (an actual mental affliction recognized by all leading psych people, the only symptom is willingness to murder over Prince Kamijo), and tries to explain himself.
Nicholas Gray: Look, I know Cleon made this match and thinks it’s great and all but...it’s not fun! Where’s the fun in seeing Kamijo make two dudes look bad, one of whom already looks bad enough?! This match didn’t have a spark to it, it just...was. It was just punishment for the other guys and a waste of time for Kamijo. So I cancelled it. ‘Cause I ain’t about that.
Upon the words being spoken, “The Imperial March” begins to play, and a squad of security in black suits begin to make its way out from the entrance, leading the way for Cleon Gray. The crowd is not as receptive to Nicholas’ brother, who boo the man as he drives his own segway down to the ring. Finally at the steps, he climbs off his vehicle and steps into the ring, looking at his brother. A stern look on his face toward his brother is obvious as he calls for a microphone of his own.
Cleon Gray: Nicholas.
He stops for a moment, reaching into his jacket and producing a piece of string cheese.
Cleon Gray: Mother asked me to tend to you. She said you’re not eating well.
Gray looks at him suspiciously, but takes the string and chomps on it, talking through the cheese.
Nicholas Gray: Ur no’ able to distra’ me wit’ snaks!
Cleon Gray: Nicholas, we have to talk. Your lack of discipline involving this roster is appalling. I am completely taken aback at the lack of discipline you give these students, Nicholas. Aren’t you a professor here on this campus we film the show on?
Nicholas Gray: I sure am! I’m also the owner of a wrestling company, which is completely separate from that, cause one has these things called wrestlers, while the other has students. If you wanna go teach my classes then that’s cool. Those kids would hate you though, since as is they’re just all getting A’s cause I’m too lazy to get up in the morning and go to class.
Cleon Gray: Nicholas, this is exactly why I’m upset. It’s why I’ve had to make changes and institute our new San Diego Bay champion Savannah Taylor as our hall monitor.
The crowd boos, reminded that he robbed Tiffani Stearns of her title.
Cleon Gray: Nicholas, we have to talk about how to fix this. Have a juice box and just trust your older brother that he’s going to handle things.
Gray takes the juice box and, instead of drinking with the straw, uses the straw to puncture the side and drink from there, likely to infuriate Cleon via doing it the ‘wrong way.’
Nicholas Gray: Yeah, hall monitors. That’s great, I can’t wait for us to need those once we start doing those heavily hyped “corridor brawl” matches we’ve been planning for eight months. Gonna have a whole PPV out of them! I mean, we’d have to, right? Cause otherwise, hall monitors would be dumb in wrestling.
Cleon Gray: Nicholas, you’re causing a scene.
Nicholas Gray: I know! It’s almost like we’re having a conversation during a wrestling show, this kinda thing just HAPPENS!
Cleon Gray: YOU NEED TO STOP LETTING THOSE LUNATICS RUN THE SHOW!
Nicholas Gray: BAD NEWS FOR YA, BRO, THIS IS PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING! THE LUNATICS HAVE RUN THE ASYLUM FOR THE PAST HALF CENTURYYYYYYYYY~!
Cleon Gray: NOT ANYMORE! I WILL HAVE ORDER! I WILL HAVE DISCIPLINE!
He stops before he gets too irritated and steps closer to his brother, his voice returning to low anger.
Cleon Gray: And EXODUS will be a better place for it.
Nicholas Gray: I think you mean more booooooooooooooring! Look, man, if you wanted to run a place as strictly as you want, why don’t you go back to teaching school in the military?
Cleon Gray: I’m on administrative leave. They believe I’m too difficult.
Nicholas Gray: Gee. Couldn’t see why they’d ever get that idea. I oughta refer you to my lawyer to get that incredibly unfair forced leave dropped.
Cleon Gray: Nicholas, if you have a problem with my help, just say so.
Nicholas Gray: Okay then. I wanted your help, but instead what I got was you trying to turn my company into a strict regiment of no fun and all business. And that’s not what works in wrestling, ever.
Cleon Gray: Sooner or later, you’ll realize I’m doing what’s best for this company. For now, you leave me no choice.
Cleon puts the microphone down, leading the crowd to be surprised as he starts to remove his suit jacket...only to start sissy slapping his brother! The two Gray siblings start trading weak wristed slaps as Cleon’s private security and EXODUS security begin to separate the siblings, the two of them trying to pull at each other’s hair.
Cleon Gray: I’M TELLING MOTHER!
Nicholas Gray: I’LL MAKE YOU GROW CORNROWS AND THEN TEAR THEM OUT IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!
Cleon Gray: I’LL TELL HER WHAT YOU’RE HIDING IN YOUR OFFICE DESK!
Nicholas Gray: I’LL TELL HER WHAT YOU DID TO THAT FAT KID IN THIRD YEAR SUMMER CAMP!
Cleon Gray: I’LL TELL HER WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER!
Nicholas Gray: I’LL TELL HER WHAT YOU DID TWO WINTERS AGO!
Cleon Gray: I’LL TELL MOTHER YOU BROKE HER FAVORITE VASE!
Nicholas Gray: I’LL TELL HER YOU WERE THE ONE DENTED HER CAR BACK IN 2000, NOT A RANDOM PASSING-BY GOAT!
Cleon Gray: THAT IS IT!
He breaks away from his personal security and weakly spears down his brother, starting to slap him sissy like and weakly, all until more help in the form of Darrin Stearns and Minoru Asano come separate the brothers.
Cleon Gray: MOTHER LIKES ME BEST!
Nicholas Gray: WHAT DID YOU SAY YOU SALTY SPITTOON!? COME HERE!
And now it’s Gray’s turn to break away from the proceedings, leaping at his brother and beginning to “lay into him” as best as you can lay into someone when your strikes are like a kitten’s. Pond comes down the ramp, seemingly to help, but instead falls to the floor and convulses with laughter instead of contributing. On this note, we head backstage as the crowd chants “LET THEM FIGHT!" We cut from the ringside area to an apparent hijacking of the live feed to an area in the back, the sounds of a busy EXODUS Pro TV show heard in the background while the newest member of the roster, Ambrosia, is shown still in her ring gear, her sweaty blonde hair sticking to her face thanks to her participation in the opening match against Justin Brooks. The feed briefly flickers as if slightly corrupted, a shadowy wall her only background.
Ambrosia: So, Justin....have I accomplished anything yet? I mean, you complained before the show that I hadn't accomplished anything in the business but aside from making everyone cower at my very name, the undefeated title reigns and other pointless information that has absolutely no bearing on my EXODUS Pro career, I've accomplished more than you ever could, more than anyone else here could. I fired you up. I made you try your absolute hardest to try and put me down for good and end my run here before I could even walk through the hallowed halls of this building full of sweaty jocks giving each other homo-erotic bro-hugs.
Win, lose, it's all the same to me. I only consider it a failure if myself and my opponent end the night without feeling beaten up and sore all over. Are you hurting, Justin, or is it your pride that's taken a big hit? A girl half your size took you to a limit you never thought she would, you underestimated me and now, I've made my mark on EXODUS Pro. I heard a few people chanting my name and cheering me on during our match after I walked out there to silence and confusion initially. How about you, Justin? Did you gain a little more respect or lose a little more respect?
She shrugs and pauses as if she were expecting an answer to her rhetorical question, brushing some of the hair out of her face.
Ambrosia: Good luck with that, Justin. I mean, you've been busting your balls for a while trying to get ahead here but after just one match, I defied all expectations and saw more than a few shocked faces when I came to the back. Not one person here expected me to last as long as I did against someone like you but here I am, still standing tall and proving everybody wrong as I always do.
A smile forms on her face, appearing quite proud of herself, her eyes looking even darker as they squint slightly as she grins.
Ambrosia: So, this goes out to everybody in EXODUS Pro and all the fans catching this on TV, online, wherever. The Harlequin of Hardcore has arrived. Get ready to have all expectations defied. Do not adjust your sets and keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times because from here on out, your world will be shaken up. Everything you know is wrong, especially Angela Jameson. If I see you, Angie, I'll put my boot in your RIMAC Arena, as you might probably say. "What does Angie mean by that", you ask? In her world, it means "Right In My Annoying Cu-"
The feed cuts right into the next commercial break of the evening.
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Post by EXODUS Office on Apr 28, 2014 12:48:06 GMT -6
Dick Morosi: Ladies and gentleman welcome back to EXPRO on FX! The exclamation from Dick signifies it’s that time of the night, the time when we another intense exhibition match. The lights dance around the packed RIMAC arena, capturing the gaze of many a fan. The audience continues to whoop and scream, showing their appreciation for the high octane action they’ve already witnessed, and the action that has yet to come. Seth Ericson: Big show tonight… big show. We started off with a bang, and I’ve been on the edge of my seat ever since. Almost fell off once or twice, Dick. That could’ve been bad. Dick Morosi: Well, it’s a good thing you didn’t, Seth. You might be out of a job if that happens. Anyway, I’ve been looking forward to the Main Event for forever. Cannon vs Lasiewicz for the belt? It’s sure to be a classic. Seth Ericson: But… but don’t forget our special time out match between Lifer and DESTROY ALL HUMANS. I’ve got a hundred down on Lifer getting pretty much mutilated. Dick Morosi: I wouldn’t count Zack out, Seth. He’s proved time and time again that he can beat the odds when the deck is stacked up against him. Everything is going on as planned, with the next bout in the evening scheduled to take place in a few moments. Just when the bell is about to sound for David Zinkus to grasp the fan’s attention, “The Quiet Place” by In Flames begins to play. Heads turn, somewhat surprised to see the man behind the music make such an early arrival to the ring, far ahead of his scheduled match with Abby Park. But it’s not just his presence that is causing the commotion, it’s the fact that he’s accompanied by Ryuji Kamigawa and Emi Watanabe. Dick Morosi: It seems we’re being interrupted by members of Gods & Monsters, Seth. This can’t… hey, wait a damn minute- The change in Dick’s tone is unmistakable, and the reason is revealed by the nearest camera which zooms into focus on the group making their way down to ringside. In Emi’s hand is a handful of luscious red hair, all of which belongs to one apprehended Rosalyn Darling. Seth Ericson: That’s… That’s Rosalyn Darling, one of Zack Lifer’s trainees down in KWI! I knew I had a bad feeling about Christum breaking into Lifer’s locker room, Dick. I knew this could never end well! The group reaches the ring and clamber through the ropes, with Emi tossing Rosalyn inside first. Rosalyn winces from the force, trying to recuperate from the horrible situation she’s in. Furor races the back of his hand over the underside of his nose and strides somewhat casually to the ropes. He demands for, and then is handed a microphone by a very infuriated Zinkus, barely taking a glance or giving any attention to him. As his music fades away, Christum motions at Emi to bring a very nervous and disconcerted Rosalyn forward. Rosalyn shoots Emi a half-glare, but decides against resisting due to being outnumbered. Christum Furor: I’d like to apologize for my commandeering the show at this particular juncture, I really do. But due to recent developments, my hand has been forced. Fate has put someone rather peculiar in my life, and more importantly, she’s come as a revelation and an opportunity - an opportunity for me to show this entire demographic how misguided it is to place your hopes in heroes, and how foolish it is to believe and have faith in primitive principles, and things that are not real. The fans begin to boo as soon as the sentence has been completed. Furor takes some time, waiting for the crowd to die down before speaking again. With their undivided attention, the Michigander approaches his hostage; Rosalyn squirms frantically, and tries to break free, but there’s no escaping Emi’s massive clutches. Not every word is picked up on the microphone, but it does catch her expressing anger in the form of saying to him “Fuck you!” Her obstinance and tenacity amuses Christum who looks right in the eyes now. Christum Furor: Dear, if you wouldn’t mind, please introduce yourself to the masses. The madman raises the mic to Rosalyn’s face, but she turns away, refusing to indulge him. There’s still words of rage coming from her. Furor flourishes a vindictive smile in response. Christum Furor: What’s the matter, shy are we? Why the long face? You look scared… don’t be afraid of me. After all, you weren’t scared when you personally attacked me on social media. There was no fear in your heart then, no, you had no problem telling me that I was masquerading as a false GOD. You told me that I was a fraud, that I had a messiah complex, that I was just a man. Why the sudden change in demeanor, why has your temperament undergone this metamorphosis? What is it about me that has you trembling so much? Could it be the fact that you know something bad is about to happen to you? You’ve gone from a swaggering display of courage to shrinking in fear and trepidation, encompassed by inadequacies and the feeling that you are so insignificant that you don’t even control your own life. Furor scoffs, placing a hand on Rosalyn’s face. She struggles, loathing the physical contact, and tries to pull away. But with Emi holding her arms to subdue her, there’s little she can do to resist. Christum Furor: And you’re just like all of these people in that regard. Your destiny is linked to someone else. You go about your daily life pretending like you have everything in control, everything figured out, yet little do you know you’re just a drone, living to die, maintaining a fleeting existence that you dedicate to a pursuit of happiness and self-fulfillment. And in this life of yours, you thank GOD, you thank him for giving you life, giving you your endowments. You submit to him. Yet I find it peculiar, for people like you to worship someone you’ve never seen, to put your wholehearted faith in an entity that you can’t touch. So tell me Rosalyn, tell me why your God has put you in such a terrible situation. If I’m not a GOD like you say, then show me the REAL GOD! There’s a quiet hush of consternation in the arena, and a feeling of hopelessness among the patrons. Furor’s eyes widen with vanity and malevolence, while Rosalyn unwillingly continues to tremble at his might. Still, she manages to say something. Rosalyn Darling: ...Damnit, shut the hell up. You talk too much, you psycho… Furor simply sneers at her words. Christum Furor: You can’t, can you? I know… I know because I’ve been there. I was handed my beliefs, and put my all into a GOD that had forsaken me. A GOD that had taken everything away from me, leaving me to wallow in self pity and self-loathing. When I turned to Him for answers, He ignored me. And I constantly wondered why -why did He put me through such misery, such misfortune, why did He bring me into such a cruel world. It drove me mad, it drove me insane. But it was through madness that I received enlightenment, by clawing my fingers to escape the dark, cold abyss, a purgatory of constant doubt, and depression that I was able to realize something. And what I realized is that I’m the existential hero. The madman runs a finger through his black locks now, his facial expression becoming more frantic and disheveled with every passing minute. Christum Furor: I’m the existential hero because I’ve endured such physical and emotional trauma, an amount of pain that you can never understand. Experiencing these hardships, these calamities, losing myself, it made me come to grips with the truth. That this is a cold, cruel world, and that nobody has your best interests. WE are the ones who control our futures, and WE have the potential to become GODS. All that is needed to do is to embrace our differences, enhance our thought processes, and accept the fact that morality is an illusion, and that the only thing that’s real is what WE do. That’s why I’m a GOD. I grab a microphone and I move mountains. I make one little demand, one declaration, and THIS entire company is turned on its head. That’s POWER, a power that I’m using to change the fabric of reality into what I deem as acceptable. Do you understand now, do you understand what a real GOD is? Despite Rosalyn’s fear, she doesn’t relent in expressing herself, screaming at times while in her precarious position. Rosalyn Darling: For the love of… SHUT THE HELL UP! You’re a lunatic, power hungry with false hopes of self-induced DELIRIUM! You’re a psycho who belongs in a mental asylum for the rest of your worthless, HUMAN life. Furor eyes Rosalyn up and down as his last statement still sparks an uproar in the crowd. Irritated, he backs away from his captive, leaning over the ropes and motioning in the direction of the timekeeper’s table. After a brief delay, he’s handed a steel chair, much to the chagrin of everyone in attendance. If it wasn’t clear before, it’s clear now that Rosalyn is afraid when the potential weapon comes into play. Christum Furor: There it is… yes, the spunk, the fire, the false bravado and intricate facade you’ve built as a defense mechanism to shield yourself from the harsh truth. But alas, all you need is a little more convincing. Of course, you can be accommodated - That’s when the words of “Alive In The Lights” by Memphis May Fire hammered against the airwaves, a silhouette of a man standing atop the cheap seats, looking down on the scene with his eyes fixated on Christum, taking it all in as he quietly waited in the shadows with a look of anger splattered on his face. As he finally makes his way down the stairs, it’s seen that this man is none other than Zack Lifer himself, ready to make his way from the shadows, raising a microphone, still at a very safe distance in the crowd, as high in the arena as he could possibly be. There’s a sense of relief from Rosalyn when her mentor makes his presence known, but she’s still afraid in her apprehension. Zack Lifer: So, what you’re claiming is, this is God’s work? You’re claiming this is what needs to be done for peace? What sense does that make? In what twisted reality does attacking a rookie possibly account as what’s needed to ‘change the world?’ His words were solid, making his way down the steps one step at a time. Talking the whole way down, his eyes never leave the ring and he refuses to acknowledge the cheering crowd. Zack Lifer: I agree with one thing, Gunner. I agree that it’s best we accept everyone’s differences, that we gotta accept the people around us for what they are, use an open mind to cease the world from ending up in a terrifying dystopia. It’s the truth, I know, but if you want me to believe that we should just abandon our morality - something that had adjusted and had evolved over the many decades we’ve lived on this planet? Well, frankly, that’s where your problem lies, Gunner. That’s where you fail in your comprehension of the universe. Making his way down to the barricade, he gets closer to the ring, keeping his methodical pace tried and true. Zack Lifer: So many flowery words, such a good vocabulary and yet through it all, you’re really dumb as bricks, aren’t you Gunner? You give yourself a new name, act like a dead language is the new style we should conform to, and yet your stance remains rocky, your idealistic world shrouded with pain and suffering. That’s not idealistic, Magnus. That’s not ideal to anyone but your brainless army of rejects who can’t seem to do anything right. I’ve defeated most of them, Gunner - I defeated them in hard fought battles but I left them bruised and battered on the mat like my life depended on it. I survived your onslaught thus far, survived everything your little team had thrown my way and guess what? I’m still here. I still exist, tainted heart and all! Christum Furor: Should you really be insulting me when I’m holding a chair pointed at your beloved protege, Nick? Not very wise on your part, friend. Approaching near the black barricade that separated the crowd from the ringside, Lifer flashes Christum an all knowing smirk, a look of contentment on his face. Zack Lifer: That’s not how it works and you know it. The hero mocks the villain before he saves the day for all these people in San Diego. The hero smiles in the face of people like you before they bash their head in for all to see, a nine inch hole in your chest! The hero beats all the odds, saves the girl, and does everything in his goddamn power to make the world better. I may not be a hero myself, no. Heroes are for the storybooks. But believe me when I say-- His words pause suddenly as the crowd goes nuts in cheers, applauding his actions for finally standing up to Christum like the man he really is, a Lifer chant breaking out in the audience as they watched the actions unfold before them. Breaking into a sprint as fast as his legs could take him, Zack hopping the barricade with ease before marching toward the ring. Before he makes another move, however, Furor speaks up with lethality in his words. Christum Furor: Not… another… step… closer, Nick. Zack Lifer was as bold and courageous as they came. Though confident, he was breathing fire and brimstone underneath that veil, seemingly having had enough of Furor’s nonsense. Yet, standing there in the middle of the ring, smiling as smugly as only the former World Champion could, the Michigander broke into laughter in response to his former disciple. Christum Furor: You’ve always been naive, Nick. You treat everything like a little game. Here I stand, alongside DESTROY ALL HUMANS, brandishing a steel chair, threatening to behead your pupil, and yet you still act carefree, downplaying the severity of the situation. But I know why, I know exactly why Nick. It’s because you’ve still not matured. You still have not grown up, you’re still the foolish little boy trapped in a man’s body that you were when I met you. However, even a foolish child can grow up the right way, when he learns what real pain is. Knowing pain controls ones thoughts, and decisions. Knowing pain will change you Lifer, it will change everything you believe in, and everything you hold dear. Still smiling like a jackal, Furor couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. However, his amusement vanishes, and his disposition changes to one more serious and somber. Christum Furor: And that change will make you understand me. You’ll understand that one cannot know true peace, unless they know true pain. There is no peace without pain, Nick. If we don’t know pain, haven’t tasted the darkness of this world, we hold onto inherency, hold onto wishful thinking, believing that we’re the only ones that matter. And you do, you think that you have everything figured out, that you’re in control of the situation, but you’re not. That peace of mind, it’s an illusion that has made you thoughtless. Zack Lifer: So, you’re saying the wars of this world were justified for peace? You say all the men and women who died in countless battles were only our gateway to your version of peace? You’re incoherent now, your madness took over. Somewhere in that broken skull of yours, somewhere in your heart, Magnus Gunner is screaming his head off, shattering the windows to try to break free but you’ve grown too hopeless to ever let that happen, huh ‘friend?’ Listening to them, Rosalyn shakes her head, but the entire time she’s also trying to make a plan-- a means of escaping from this precarious position. A weak little grin crosses her face, attempting to keep herself from giving in to the terror at hand. Rosalyn Darling: You know… this really sucks. I just realized I’m the damsel in distress and I’M the leader of the New Trifecta, the POWER of what the Trifecta represents. This is not what I came to San Diego, to the RIMAC, to be. Now… preferably without using the chair LIKE THE COWARD MAGNUS REALLY IS, would you two idiots get on with it?! She’s fiery, that one, business temperamental like her father, the Eternal Bastard Jack Darling. Christum Furor: You’re right, I’ve grown tired from this little dance myself. Furor makes eye contact with Watanabe, and she drags Rosalyn to her knees. Christum watches as Lifer flinches, looking like he’ll rush into the ring, yet he is forced to restrain himself, knowing a flick of the wrist and the chair wielding maniac could behead his student. Christum Furor: You’re wrong, Nick. Magnus Gunner isn’t trying to break free. Magnus Gunner is dead. He’s now a martyr because he was sacrificed so that Christum Furor could be born and bring peace to this wretched world. But his death will not be in vain… no, you see I’m about to teach you, share with you, his pain, and then you’ll understand me. But I’m going to put it in your hands, so to speak. One minute Nick Kramer, one minute. You say that my ideals are flawed, that my vision is misguided. Well, you tell me yours. You tell me how Nick Kramer is going to save the world. You give me your answer, and I’ll give you mine. Whether she leaves this predicament in one piece, or as a lobotomized carcass is up to you. Taking a deep breath, Lifer’s eyes watched Furor’s, his heart beating quickly as his brain sped up, his intelligence regaining itself after acting like a child on his way out here. His psychosis increased his mentality, furthered his mind to rival that of Gunner’s in the heat of such a moment. His irrational anger subsided, the insults stopped. He told him the truth, no fear whatsoever against his face. Zack Lifer: To save the world, what would I do? It’s a bold question, believe me it is but the truth is far easier than you make it seem, Furor. The truth is, attacking the well-off, taking down the overall good people isn’t going to cut it any longer. Pain can only teach temporarily, can only help in the short term. Trust me, the White Nights lived by that motto and not one person changed for good, not one person changed their ways. All they did was become angry, start to group together just as the Seikigun did. His attitude was shocking to everyone watching as he spoke, the crowd hanging on every word, silence enveloping the whole arena from the back to the people in the stands. Zack Lifer: We punish the bad, we give them the help they need. We may all be forced to fight in this wrestling world but what we all really need is a friendly trip to the mental hospital to calm our minds and to figure out who we really are. We’re all good at heart, that’s what they say. Old philosophies of good and evil aside, I truly believe that. Within you, whether you admit it or not, is a genuinely good person trying to fix things just as I am. Within all of us, the same thing remains but because of either nurture or nature, most had stopped just short of being a good person in the eyes of most. The audience is amazed at Lifer’s powerful words, a completely opposite direction than what he displayed of his previous demeanor. They’re still in silence, unable to say anything. Even on her knees, Rosalyn quietly listens, perhaps mentally praying that her mentor’s words continue to speak high levels. There’s still fear in her eyes, but deep down she’s trying to be strong. She has faith-- in him, in Lifer. It’s clear in her expression, the body language, and especially the light-hearted smile on her face as she looks at him on the outside. He continues. Zack Lifer: So, how would I fix this? How would I cause peace? I’d tell people to simply do their job. Wrestling or what have you. Do a job well done and good things will come. But the minute you start crossing personal lines, the minute you start digging up the past and acting like you’re better than the rest of the world? Well, that’s when we as a society make our horrific downfall. Maybe some day, I’d hope that Gods & Monsters see that truth, see that you could have all you’ve ever wanted if you simply stuck to the script and wrestled. But in the meantime, people like me will do whatever it takes to put an end to your garbage, put an end to your ego. Whether Mr. Collins or any of you agree with me or not, that’s to be decided, but I can only hope that one day, the rest of the world will finally understand what I understand. Now, do me a favor. Let her go. One good deed. That’s all I ask. Please. Furor’s mood and aura has gone from his signature manic depressive to a more calm, and theoretical tone. Christum thinks, heavily, from everything Lifer had said, in his mind he sees some of the sense and all of the emotion Zack conveys. The thought reaches into him like the cold grip of death. Following a deep breath he flicks his head back, hair moving from his countenance to reveal a straight face, the bottom lids of his eyes slightly wrinkled, nearly a squint. He brings the microphone up to his lips, slowly, one thousand thoughts a second. Christum Furor: I see… that is noble of you. But understand this, Nick. While you try to be virtuous now, there is no way to maintain such honor when living in such a hate-filled world. You can try to, you can try your hardest not to give in to this hatred, but in the end it will consume you. In the end you will find out that you can’t protect everyone, that people like her, and everyone you care about will be affected by your decisions, and that while you continue to pursue your dream, this world will see to it that you encounter nothing but misery. Something bad always happens to the hero, Nick. Furor, looks down at Rosalyn, then back at Lifer. Zack Lifer You’re not wrong. Not one bit. I’m sure there’s still gonna be plenty of people - probably Mr. Collins and friends included - who still wish my downfall, who don’t believe me, just as you said. There’s still gonna be misery, still gonna be bad times but you know what? You gotta get through the bad to get to the good, right? In the movies, the worst moment towards the end is followed by the happy ending. You see what I mean? Furor walks up to the ropes, leaning over them, staring right into Lifer’s eyes. Christum Furor: The thing you need to understand, Nick, is that nothing ever happens like that. No. You see, if I were to go ahead and take this poor girl’s head off with this steel chair, everything you just said to these people would become a lie because it would all be tainted with an animosity and abhorrence directed at me. Your idea of change, all of your hopes and dreams would be corrupted by hatred, and your life would be dedicated to revenge. You would seek to hurt me, to get vengeance for your student, but that will not help, it would only make you feel better. Furor backs away from the ropes now, then motions at Emi to release Rosalyn. Now freed, she immediately retreats and rolls out of the ring to regroup with Lifer. The after-effects of the fear wave over her as she stands alongside him, feeling her heart pound against her chest. Zack cracks a smile, a genuine smile as his former mentor finally does the right thing, finally does a single good deed, a reassuring whisper Rose’s way about her finally being safe before finally turning his eyes back to Christum Furor for the last time of the night. Zack Lifer: Thank you, Magnus. Sincerely. Furor smiles, shaking his head almost. Christum Furor: You and I are no different, Nick. We each act according to our own sense of peace. However, I hope you’re as strong as you think you are, that your conviction and beliefs are not weak because if they are, this hate filled world will take you, and the hero will become the villain they disdain. Furor tosses the microphone. The two superstars exchange a gaze once more before leaving the ring with his counterparts, leaving Zack and Rosalyn to ponder what the future has in store for them. Dick Morosi: I really don't like where things are going. Seth Ericson: Say no more, Dick. Dick Morosi: We've got to talk abou-- Seth Ericson: Just say no more. This is speaking for itself. The two of them have developed something so personal, no words are needed for the crowd to see this. These two are heading for a one on one showdown, and that thing is going to destroy whatever arena hosts it. Dick Morosi: ....that pretty much was everything I was planning on saying. Got anything else to add? Seth Ericson: ...dicks. Dick Morosi: Seth Ericson, everyone! Coming up next is our next match, a triple threat featuring Nate Soto, Nathaniel Dixon, and Chuck Matthews. Take it away, Zinkus! TRIPLE THREAT MATCH
CHUCK MATTHEWS vs. NATE SOTO vs. NATHANIEL DIXONDavid Zinkus: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a Three Way Dance!... The lights dim as the opening guitars of Cradle to the Grave by Five Finger Death Punch begin, lights flashing around the stage as Nate Soto slowly starts to make his way out, sleeveless hoodie over his torso. Accompanied by Kameron Chase, a towel draped over his manager's shoulder, Nate keeps his focus as he slowly starts to walk down the ramp. David Zinkus: Introducing, being accompanied to the ring by "The Natural Disaster" Kameron Chase... from Dallas, Texas, weighing one hundred eighty-five pounds... NATE! SOTO! The song continues to play as Soto stops at the end of the ramp, looking up at the ring. Chase stops behind his charge and starts rubbing his shoulders, psyching him up before Soto hops up onto the apron and grabs the rope, flipping his upper body back as the hood falls back as he lets out a huge scream to psych himself up. Stepping into the ring, he starts walking toward a corner with a purpose, climbing up to look out to the crowd as he surveys them for any possible supporters. Stepping down, he instantly starts to look intensely toward the center of it as he waits for the match to begin while removing his hoodie and tossing it to the outside for Chase to catch. David Zinkus: And introducing his opponent... The lights dim until the arena is absolutely dark. Then suddenly Nathaniel's voice can be heard resonating in echoes. "Pray.
Pray to your God, your Satan, your Deity, your Higher Power.
Pray, you fools, for I am better at everything..."
#Truly. The introductive strums of an acoustic guitar and soft electronic accompaniment from "Breathe Into Me (Remix Acústica)" by Red plays from the PA system. Two spotlights shine in search of Nathaniel Dixon throughout ringside and the audience. The crowd is murmuring as they also attempt to find him while the lyrics begin. ...And this is how it feels when I
Ignore the words you spoke to me.
And this is where I lose myself when I
Keep running away from you!
And this is who I am when, when I
Don't know myself anymore.
And this is what I choose when it's all left
Up to me...
Breathe your life into me, I can feel you.
I'm falling, falling faster!
Breathe your life into me, I still need you.
I'm falling...
Falling--
Breathe into me!
Breathe into me!! With the emphasis of those powerful lyrics, both spotlights quickly shine to the middle of the ring where Nathaniel has appeared without warning, surprising Nate Soto already in the ring. At ringside, his assistant Elliot Ashford is also present, applauding enthusiastically for his boss. The majority of the audience immediately greet Nathaniel with loud, spiteful boos, though there is some cheering. He looks around with a smile on his face and allows photographic opportunities, stretching his arms out for a moment before he takes a gentleman's bow. When he lifts his head, a devious grin appears on his face and crimson red-colored pyros shoot from the four corners of the ring. The lights slowly come back on as he checks his wrist tape, ready to go. David Zinkus: From London, England, and weighing in at 170lbs... he is “Truly” NATHANIEL DIXON! And finally, their opponent... The heavy bridge of "Brains" erupts through the speakers as spotlights race across the crowd. Chuck Matthews steps out onto the stage, looking around at the people in attendance. He smiles, taking in the reaction of the fans. Casually, Chuck begins his walk towards the ring. He moves calmly, but quickly, making no effort to interact with fans until he reaches the apron. At this point, he climbs up, leaning with his back against the ropes, looking out at the crowd. He winks, and steps between the ropes before climbing one of the corners. He raises his arms in his signature horns before hopping down. He rolls his wrists and neck, waiting for the match to begin. David Zinkus: Fighting out of Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at 225lbs... CHUCK MATTHEWS! Dick Morosi: It’s hard to say which way this match is going to go. Three excellent ring technicians mixing it up. Seth Ericson: These three are some of the most tactical, devious and cunning minds EXODUS has to offer. This is going to be great. The three men each take a corner, and bounce, trying to keep their energy up. D’Artis Johnson calls for the bell, and each man takes a step forward, before stopping, just staring at their opponents. Seth Ericson: What the hell is this? Why aren’t they fighting. Dick Morosi: I think they are fighting. A battle of the minds. Seth Ericson: Oh my god... FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! The three men just stand there, evaluating their opponents, almost challenging someone else to make the first move. Suddenly, Nate Soto breaks, rushing Nathaniel. Dixon seems to have been expecting this, quickly taking Soto over with an Arm Drag. This seems to Nate’s plan, as he lands on his feet, and charges straight at Dixon from behind, arm out for a lariat. Nathaniel ducks at the last moment, but Soto is ready for this, as he refocuses onto Chuck Matthews. Matthews also seems to have anticipated this, dropping back with a Matrix Dodge allowing Soto to flow over the top of him. As he comes back to upright, Dixon is straight in his face, going for a Spinning Backfist. Matthews rolls sideways to avoid the attack, but Dixon carries on the assault, as Soto comes back off the ropes, only to stop dead in his tracks inches from Dixon’s fist. The crowd pops at the display, as the three men stop and stare at each other once more. Dick Morosi: What a display. If this carries on like this, nobody’s going to get a hit in. The crowd is still cheering, as Dixon and Matthews give each other an appreciative nod. Soto takes advantage of their momentary distraction to charge Dixon, lashing out with a quick kick to the midsection, followed with an Elbow Strike to send him reeling. Chuck charges in, but Nate quickly stops him in his tracks with a Back Elbow, staggering him. He turns his focus back on the dizzied Dixon, following up with a lifting Knee to his midsection, before whipping him headfirst into the stomach of the oncoming Chuck Matthews, spoiling his sneak attack. Chuck doubles over, winded, whilst Dixon hits the deck trying to regain his faculties. Soto lays into the fallen Dixon with a quick Soccer Kick, before hitting the doubled over Matthews with a Clubbing Forearm to the back to keep him preoccupied. He quickly returns to Dixon, and goes for an Oklahoma Roll, hitting it for the pinfall. ONE TW- Matthews has regained his senses enough to break up the pinfall, with a quick stomp to the side of Soto’s head. He quickly follows with a Jackknife Pin of his own on Nate. ONE Kickout! Soto kicks out, and as he recoils back, Dixon pounces, rolling Chuck up with a Schoolboy! ONE T- Kickout! Dick Morosi: Soto with an early advantage here, seemingly neutralized by Matthews’ quick thinking. With all of the technical expertise on display here, I don’t know that anyone will be able to take advantage here. Seth Ericson: It’s a ring full of genius Dick, they’ll find a way. Dixon and Chuck quick get to their feet, but Dixon proves slightly quicker, lashing out with a kick to the midsection. Matthews quickly counters it, but realises too late that was Nathaniel’s intention all along as he takes him down with a Enzuigiri! Nathaniel turns, and takes down the rising Soto with a High Knee to the temple. Chuck is slowly getting up, trying to regain his senses, when Dixon runs to the ropes, springboarding back to take Matthews down with a London Bridge Is Falling Down! Dick Morosi: What a Springboard Reverse DDT! London Bridge is indeed falling down! Seth Ericson: Shut up Dick. Nathaniel stands, looking out at the crowd, a faint smile on his face, as he fails to notice Nate slowly pulling himself upright using the ringpost. Dixon goes the cover. ONE TWO THR- Soto with a Moonsault to break up the pin! Seth Ericson: WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM? All three men are laid out on the mat, desperately trying to gather their senses from Soto’s desperation attack. Nate gets back to his feet first. Matthews is slowly stirring, with Dixon struggling to regain his faculties. Soto eyes up Matthews, as he raises to one knee, before charging forward, connecting with an echoing Shining Wizard! He follows up with a pin attempt! ONE TW- Kickout! Dick Morosi: Chuck Matthews may have taken quite some abuse in the match so far, but he’s kept plenty of gas in the tank. That’s fighting smart. Soto pulls Chuck up, before whipping hard him to the corner! As Chuck recoils from the impact, Nate charges, only for Chuck to drop to the mat, hitting a Drop Toe Hold, and driving Nate’s face into the middle turnbuckle! Seth Ericson: Matthews again proving his genius, turning the situation around to his advantage almost effortlessly. Chuck goes for a pin! ONE TWO Kickout! Chuck leans back, and allows Soto to roll away, allowing himself to catch his breath as he collects his thoughts. With a nod to himself, he stands, and allows Soto to pull himself up with the ropes. As Soto gets upright, he allows him to stagger back into the ring, before leaping up and connecting with a perfectly executed Enzuigiri! Nate drops like a felled tree! Seth Ericson: TIMBER!!!! This is it! Chuck drops for the pin. ONE TWO THRE- Shoulder up! D’Artis holds his hand just inches from the mat! Chuck shakes his head, with an audible sigh. Hauling Soto up to a sitting position, he locks in a Dragon Sleeper. Johnson is straight to the mat, checking on Soto, looking for the submission. Nate reaches out, grasping at the air, trying to find the strength to resist the hold. As he squirms, Chuck finds the purchase to tighten the hold. On Dixon, however, has slowly got to his feet. Dick Morosi: Nathaniel Dixon has finally regained his senses. Seth Ericson: Has he? Or was he just playing possum? Matthews sees him rising out of the corner of his eye, and quickly breaks the hold and charges at the rising Dixon. Nathaniel sees it coming and counters with a Shotei, staggering the charging Matthews. He quick follows up with a Thesz Press, taking Matthews down, and following up with a series of punches. Soto climbs up the ropes, as Dixon gets up off of Matthews, and lets loose with a kick, doubling Soto over, before hooking him up and connecting with a God Hath No Mercy! Dick Morosi: God Hath No Mercy! A massive Spinning Double Underhook Inverted Facebuster! Seth Ericson: With both his opponents down, how can Dixon possibly lose this match. Dixon looks down, and evaluates the situation. Taking Soto with both a handful of hair and a handful of ring shorts, he takes him and throws him out of the ring between the middle and bottom ropes. Without missing a beat, Dixon goes for the pinfall on Matthews. ONE Matthews gets the shoulder up! Dixon backs straight off, as Chuck sits, trying to catch his breath. Dixon steps up, and plants a boot in the small of Matthews’ back, causing him to writhe in pain. Dixon follows up, hauling Matthews upright, and landing a Backhand Chop, staggering Chuck. He follows with another, and another, backing Matthews up into the corner. He quickly takes Chuck by the back of the head, and drive Chuck face first into the top turnbuckle. Chuck is out of it, hung up over the ropes. Dixon drives a shoulder into Chuck’s stomach, getting the air out of him, before using the leverage to pick and sit Chuck up on the top rope. Dick Morosi: Oh no. What hideous plan does Dixon have in mind? Seth Ericson: I’m so excited. Sat on the top turnbuckle, Chuck starts fighting back, with a right to Dixon’s head, follows by another. Dixon quickly cuts off the counter attack with a Throat Thrust, taking Matthews off guard. Dixon takes a step up, onto the middle rope, and starts to hook up Matthews, when out of nowhere comes Soto! He charges the length of the ring, and leaps, connecting with a Flying Forearm square to Nathaniel’s back! Dixon is totally taken unawares, and Soto follows up, taking hold of Dixon and slamming him down into the mat, back first. Soto winces in pain, but doesn’t let up, climbing the ringpost and taking Nathaniel’s place at the top, locking up with Matthews. He hooks him up for a Superplex, and goes for the lift, but Matthews blocks it. Nathaniel is back up, and is letting Soto have a Clubbing Forearm of his own to the lower back. Dixon follows up by getting underneath Soto, just as Soto hooks up Matthews for a Belly to Belly. As Soto pushes off for a Super Belly to Belly Suplex, Dixon gets underneath him, simultaneously taking Soto down with a Powerbomb! Dick Morosi: Oh my god! Seth Ericson: THAT. WAS. AWESOME! Dixon holds on for the pinfall on Soto! ONE TWO THR- Seemingly out of instinct, Nate gets the shoulder up. Dick Morosi: How did Nate even have the energy left to do that? Slowly, all three men get back to their feet. Matthews looks at Dixon, then both men take Soto out with a Double Clothesline, an effort that puts all three men back on the mat. Nobody is moving. Kameron starts pounding the mat, cheering on Nate. On the other side of the ring, Elliot does the same, trying to stir Nathaniel. Dixon slowly rolls out of the ring, towards Elliot, looking to recover on the outside. Soto and Matthews both slowly get to their feet, Matthews with a bit more speed, taking the advantage to lock Soto up in a Cobra Clutch. Soto instantly fights back, driving elbow after elbow into Chuck’s ribs, until he releases his grip. Nate doesn’t stop, continuing his elbow assault until Chuck is doubled over, all the air driven from his lungs. Dixon, slides back into the ring tentatively, as Soto charges at Matthews, only to be taking off balance by a massive Hip Toss, putting Soto square on the mat. Dixon charges, only to be taken down with a another Hiptoss, landing him awkwardly against the turnbuckle. Soto is getting to his feet groggily, with Chuck beginning to stalk him. Gradually Nate gets to his feet, and as he turns, Matthews charges forward, and connects with a Hollywood Impact. Dick Morosi: HOLLYWOOD IMPACT! A TREMENDOUS SPEAR! Seth Ericson: This is it. Matthews has shown he’s the true genius. Matthews holds on for the pinfall, hooking the leg. ONE TWO THREE! Dick Morosi: Chuck has done it! He’s proved himself to be the smarter man in this technical showdown. Matthews holds his hands aloft, as Elliot helps Nathaniel out of the ring in one corner, and Kameron does the same for Nate in the other corner. Seth Ericson: Chuck Matthews proves his reputation is more than just hearsay tonight. WINNER: CHUCK MATTHEWSSeth Ericson: HUGE WIN! Dick Morosi: Chuck Matthews picks up a huge victory and looks to have launched himself into an impressive victory! Momentum like this could put him up against the best in EXODUS! Seth Ericson: And if he keeps it up, he may just be able to knock anyone else down. Dick Morosi: While Chuck takes his victory lap, let's take a commercial break, we'll be back!
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Post by EXODUS Office on Apr 28, 2014 13:11:42 GMT -6
We cut to the backstage area after commercial where we find Jon Collins' office. The EXODUS Pro Director of Operations doesn’t seem to be anywhere to be found however, but instead we find the office does have one occupant, a very nervous looking EXODUS Pro International Champion, Lexy Chapel. She’s standing in the office with the EXODUS Pro international Championship belt across her shoulder; although we see her adjusting it frequently as due to her small size and the size of the belt it doesn’t seem to stay in place naturally. She’s also dressed to compete, but with one addition – a shirt with the word ‘#TEAMCOLLINS’ written across the front. The sound of the fans cheering can be heard from inside the arena but Lexy doesn’t seem to notice it, instead shifting awkwardly from foot to foot in the office, seemingly waiting. Lexy Chapel: Ok, so... starting to think I read the message wrong. I swear he said to meet him here to talk about the match... The young star of the Chapel Show shifts again awkwardly from foot to foot before walking closer to his desk, skimming over the paperwork on the desk before shaking her head and turning some of it over, as though she’s afraid to see something that she shouldn’t. She then looks up nervously toward the door. It’s very obvious that she’s clearly out of her element and extremely on edge, but then that seems to have been the case in all dealings she’s had so far with the Director of EXODUS. After turning the paperwork over we see her spin his chair around nervously before looking around again and taking a seat in it, kicking off the table and spinning around multiple times with an immature look on her face before stopping herself and shaking her head slowly. Lexy Chapel: C’mon Lexy, get it together girl. This is a big night, and I know you’re nervous but that’s no reason to act like a complete idiot. I mean think about it for a moment, you’re not a ten year old fan anymore, are you? Jon’s not just some guy you admire on TV. He’s not just some guy whose posters you have on your wall. He’s... my tag team partner tonight. Oh god, that’s ACTUALLY happening tonight... I’m really teaming with Jon Collins TONIGHT! It’s hard to tell if talking to herself is making her more nervous or more excited, or perhaps a combination of the two. She shakes her head though, trying to hold it together, and takes the International title off her shoulder and puts it down on the desk in front of her, and that’s when something seems to catch her eye. She gets up from the chair and walks slowly over to the wall, reaching up toward a jacket hanging on the wall. She slowly pulls it down and looks at it in amazement. Lexy Chapel: Oh my god, this is really his... She stares at it in astonishment like a completely smitten fan before lifting it up and smelling it, and then looking at it like she’s wondering why she actually did that. Lexy Chapel: Ok, what the hell is wrong with me! Oh god, what would Jon say if he could see you right now Lexy? Well, first off he’d probably laugh at you. But then again, I know what he would say... She smirks to herself as she slips the jacket on and turns toward the mirror in the office, looking in to it and brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes. The expression on her face changes, as though she’s trying her best to impersonate the Saint of Violence, and she clears her throat and speaks not in her normal British accent but in her best Jon Collins impression. Lexy Chapel: Lights out, end of f’n story! She smirks at her own impression before adjusting the jacket and trying to act tough in front of the mirror. She quickly grabs the International Championship off the table and puts it over her shoulder, adjusting it several times until she’s happy and then looking in to the mirror again, continuing her Collins impressions. Lexy Chapel: I don’t have bad things to say about Wulf or Steve. I love the guys, they’ve stood up for EXODUS so many times. But they should know I’m not messing around. I’m Jonathan Collins and I am professional wrestling! She smiles to herself happily before adjusting the title on her shoulder again and trying another classic line. Lexy Chapel: Falling from heaven isn’t as painful as surviving the impact! She adjusts the International title on her shoulder again, continuing to look in to the mirror. From the doorway though we hear another voice... Jonathan Collins: Having fun? Lexy literally screams and spins around before seeing him there and dropping the International title in shock before desperately trying to take the jacket off. Lexy Chapel: Oh god, I was... err... you see you said to meet you here and you weren’t here and I... um... She goes completely red in embarrassment and finally manages to get the jacket off before hanging it up and brushing it down, turning back to look at him without actually looking up at him, more staring at his feet, her face still completely red in embarrassment. Lexy Chapel: I... um... sorry. Jonathan Collins: You know, I don't know what it says about me that you basically summed up my career in about three or four statements, a jacket, and a belt. Kudos to you, Chapel. The Director of EXODUS Pro laughs and comes over to ruffle her hair. Jonathan Collins: You ready for tonight? Lexy shakes her head, looking up at him again now almost upset. Lexy Chapel: Oh no way, there’s way more to your career than a few catchphrases. I mean everything you’ve done, all the people you’ve inspired, all the opportunities you’ve given others... I wouldn’t even be here today if it wasn’t for you! You’re way more than just that jacket or a title or... She trails off again before shifting, her embarrassment clearly returning. Lexy Chapel: You know I didn’t come in here to touch your stuff or anything, right? And I didn’t look at anything on the table, I swear. I turned some of it over because it looked important and I didn’t want anyone to think I was snooping or anything. I’d never do that, not to you! Jonathan Collins: It's fine, really. There are so many other things in life to be concerned about than what you did or didn't do, but that does remind me of something. Collins goes to the desk and pulls out a manila folder, offering it to her. Jonathan Collins: Champions should be paid like champions. This is your new contract, Lexy Chapel. Congratulations. The young Brits eyes go wide in shock and she looks at the folder in disbelief. Lexy Chapel: Wait, is that why you asked me to come here? She looks at the folder before slowly opening it. Her eyes get even wider and she quickly closes the folder again and almost throws it back at him like it’s burning her hands. Lexy Chapel: Whoa, no way! No, I can’t... Jonathan Collins: Don't say you didn't earn it. That belt on your shoulder says otherwise. Lexy Chapel: I didn’t! I haven’t! I... She looks up at him, the nervousness she had before gone now and replaced with something else, almost fear. She reaches down to the ground and picks up the International title and looks at it for a long moment before looking up at him again. Lexy Chapel: I didn’t earn anything, not really. I mean this title is just... Jerry Matthews almost killed me. Remember that? I tried to take it to him and he put me through a table and laid me out in the middle of the ring. And at the last show I tried taking it to Johnny Cannon and ok; I got a few lucky shots in but he... I mean if he hadn’t rolled out of the ring I don’t think I would have beaten him, not really. My parents worked their whole careers and neither of them ever really won much or... and they never got really super famous, well not in America anyway, and... I guess what I’m saying is that I’m still nobody, I’m still just a rookie, and... I don’t want charity. Not that I’m saying that you’re taking pity on me or... um... god, why is talking to you so hard? Jonathan Collins: I understand your humility, and it's refreshing to me. Rookies these days want everything handed to them, and it sickens me. The reality is that you're a champion, and even if this contract doesn't mean you'll have swimming pools and fast cars, it means you won't have to work a second job. You'll be able to support yourself doing this, and isn't that what we've always wanted to do? Without a second thought, Collins comes over and wraps his arms around the young girl, giving her a warm embrace before pulling away. Jonathan Collins: Besides, I remember you cheering exceptionally loud once back in 2003 when I toured the UK. I think I took on someone like RJ Roken or someone and your parents had helped promote the show. So maybe it's a little bit of good karma. She blushes again. Lexy Chapel: You remember that? I know I do. That was the night that I told my brother that one day I was going to be just like you and he laughed at me. And now tonight I’m teaming with you. I mean... how crazy is that? I guess deep down I still feel like that. I still feel like I’m that little girl screaming for you to win, chanting your name, wearing your t-shirt. I just think that... She looks at the title nervously before looking up at him and letting out a sigh. Lexy Chapel: I mean, we do kind of need the money, with Nate’s medical bills and rent, and we wanted to move to California so I could be closer to here and... I promise you that I’ll earn it. I won’t let you down, I swear. Jonathan Collins: Then you'll prove that to me when you defend the International Title at Absent Are the Saints against the only person I know that will test you. She swallows hard and looks at the title again before looking up at him nervously. Lexy Chapel: Ok... She takes a deep breath before putting the title over her shoulder. Lexy Chapel: Whoever it is, I’m ready! Jonathan Collins: ...I'll see you at the iPPV. You'll be defending against me. Her eyes go wide again and her mouth drops open. Collins just smiles at her and she stands there in complete shock for a moment before looking at him again and shaking her head. Lexy Chapel: You’re kidding, right? He just smirks at her and sits down behind his desk. Lexy Chapel: You are kidding. Wait, you’re not kidding. I mean, are you kidding? You and me, one on one? Me against you? Me FIGHTING you? Me? Against you? One on one? No. Really? No! ...really? Collins just grins again as we fade out with Lexy still looking astonished. We go back to Dick & Seth. Dick Morosi: Looks like our International Champion is a big fan of The Saint of Violence. Seth Ericson: Considering how far back she remembers him, I'm sure she remembers how great we were calling his matches against Pete Ebdon, Trevor Wrath, and even Ranma Saotome! Dick Morosi: I really doubt she remembers us. Seth Ericson: I really doubt she remembers you. It's hard to forget me. Dick Morosi: Enough about that, we've got a match coming up! Cleon Gray's form of discipline continues in this, as Zack Lifer is forced to go up against DESTROY ALL HUMANS! in a tag team match, and it's next! HANDICAP MATCH
ZACK LIFER vs. DESTROY ALL HUMANS!The arena lights fade to black, and soon, the only light in the arena is that of cell phones, small pinpricks of light in the darkness. After a few moments, though, it becomes clear that there's a clustered concentration of them in the upper deck of the arena. THAT, of course, only means one thing: the arrival of the band of demons and deities known as Gods & Monsters. Moments later, the opening lyrics to the theme song of a cartoon from before the lifespans of most of those in the RIMAC begin to play, revealing to all just which Gods & Monsters are on their way to the squared circle. UP FROM THE DEPTHS!
THIRTY STORIES HIGH!
BREATHING FIRE!
HIS HEAD IN THE SKY!
GODZILLA! GODZILLA! GODZILLA!Before the lame ass part of the song about Godzuki can ruin the mood, the song suddenly shifts, slamming directly into the lyrics of Gods & Monsters' anthem, "Pulse of the Maggots." I fight for the unconventional
My right, and its unconditionalFrom behind the curtain emerge three figures. Leading the way to the ring is Minoru Ishii, the twenty-year old translator of the beastly woman stomping to the ring behind him. She is, of course, Emi Watanabe, the so-called "Human Kaiju," dressed for battle in G&M t-shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots. Bringing up the rear is the anchor of the trio, one Ryuji Kamigawa, the "G&M" tattooed on his chest making his allegiance clear for all time. I can only, be as real as i can
The disadvantage is
I never knew the planMinoru excepted, they seem to enjoy the hate, welcoming it with open arms while raising fists of solidarity to the upper deck of the RIMAC. With little fanfare, they march towards the squared circle, Ishii taking up his spot at ringside timidly. David Zinkus: On their way to the ring at this time! This isn't the way just to be a martyr
I can't, walk alone any longer
I fight, for the ones who can't fight
And if I lose, at least I triedDavid Zinkus: Accompanied to the ring by translator Minoru Ishii, they represent GODS & MONSTERS! First, from Nagasaki, Japan, standing six feet, one inches tall, and weighing in at two-hundred nineteen pounds, she is the HUMAN KAIJU, WATANABE EMI! And her partner, from Osaka, Japan, standing six feet, five inches tall, and weighing three-hundred twelve pounds...THE GOD IN WHITE, KAMIGAWA RYUJI! Together, they are...DESTROY! ALL! HUUUUUUUUUUMANS! Dick Morosi: Going into this match, all the build up Cleon Gray set up for us, it was already written in stone. This would be the end of Zack Lifer, this would be his time out that finally 'taught him a lesson.' Now? Well, after what we witnessed earlier, this new side of Lifer? I think this tag team is in the disadvantage. Seth Ericson: I never would've thought the one man could ever be considered the favorite to win a handicap match against these two monsters of all people but I never thought I'd see what we saw earlier in the night either, did you? Dick Morosi: Nobody did, Seth. But Lifer managed to single-handedly make Christum Furor smile, make him humble after the speech he made to save his trainee Rosalyn Darling. It was certainly surreal! The monstrous duo stomp up the ring steps, settling back into their corner with broad, wicked grins on their faces. We, we are the new diabolic
We, we are the bitter bucolic
If I have to give my life you can have it
We, we are the pulse of the maggotsAs the song fades out, Kamigawa and Watanabe exchange a brief moment of strategy, before Ryuji steps out to the ring apron to allow Watanabe to start the contest. Seth Ericson: Nonetheless, this match is sure to turn some heads. Everyone in EXODUS is watching to see if the 'hero' can defeat DESTORY ALL HUMANS after that performance. A brief flash of silence passes through the arena suddenly as the stage is beamed on by gold and white lights, the bulbs dimming slightly. Heroic hues floated over the entryway, the ramp and of course the audience, audible cheers as they hear the words of "Alive in the Lights" by Memphis May Fire boom through the speakers signifying one man and one man only. From the beginning, I knew I was different.
I embraced it, but you didn't.
Your normal life, 9-5, it's just not for me.
I need to feel alive! As the lights of gold and white beam down against the crowd, searching up the stairs and to the cheap seats, they notice a familiar silhouette. A pop from the fans resurfacing, signs of various positive remarks stretching across the ocean of 'Lifer Addicts' as well as a few anomaly signs that don't fit in with the others. Adorn in a tan colored vest with the white outline of his signature demented smiley face logo on the breast whilst a black undershirt with a collar and the sleeves rolled up stayed just underneath. Black slacks covered his legs to complete the attire, shiny and fresh black shoes on his feet for good measure. Making his way down the stairs, he high fives several people as he walks down the stairs, a silent all-knowing smirk etched across his face, his eyes fixated on the ring ahead. David Zinkus: And their opponent, from Newark New Jersey and weighing in at 202 pounds... He is The New Iron Saint... ZACK LIFER!!! Don't you see the minds that have changed?
Do you see the lives that have been saved?
Don't you care to see the difference I've made?
Listen closely, the highways call my name.
Don't you see this is my everything? Lifer's slow, methodical walking gives way to sprinting, his legs moving him towards the ring down the nearly endless row of stairs before he hops the leather barricade, a running jump that could only be considered impressive, a hint of confidence in the way he moved at a slowed down pace once more towards the steel steps. His eyes dart to the entrance way as he trudges up the few stairs, not looking away as he watches the curtain for just a couple seconds with an intense look in his eye as if in deep thought. As he gets to the top of the steps, his eyes dart across the arena, stunned by the crowd reaction. The audience gets louder as he climbs the turnbuckle, lifting his right arm in triumph as a single golden colored firework shot diagonally on the stage regardless, the location of its starting point mirroring the top turnbuckle he resided on - Zack now already pacing the ring - as it screeched loudly. cutting across the arena air, another loud pop from the crowd. Don't you care to see the difference I've made? Dick Morosi: Zack Lifer, The New Iron Saint certainly showed us all the difference he's made, his actions definitely a game changer. Seth Ericson: Focus on the upcoming match, Dick. It's sure to be one hell of a battle! The camera zoomed out from the scene, Lifer hopped back to the apron and then hopping over the top rope effortlessly, his arms stretched out wide for just a moment as if to mock Gods & Monsters immediately after, soaking in the cheers of the crowd.with a literal bang, the firework shooting by swiftly in the background. His chocolate brown eyes searched the excited crowd, a smirk rising to his face once more. He looked confident, more confident than ever before heading to his corner, the sounds fading mid-lyric as he waits for the bell to finally ring. DING DING DING! The match begins with Ryuji taking the lead for his team, starting off a one on one battle between the two former Gods & Monsters allies as Emi watches from the apron. Lifer can only manage to smirk at his opponent, a mind game in its own right in the face of the fiery hatred Kamigawa shot back. Suddenly, without warning, Ryuji rushed the much smaller man, successfully landing a simple yet powerful clothesline. The God In White bounced off the ropes, ready to do the same after his opponent quickly made it to his feet if only to miss wildly from a well-timed sliding duck and a sharp kick to the back of the right shin, an unpredicted move to be sure. Ryuji's eyes quickly snapped back in Lifer's direction once again. Before another offensive maneuver is tried, Lifer quickly knocking him down with a exploder suplex, quickly taking advantage by grabbing the same leg in his hands, aggressively pulling it up and slamming it down against the mat with all his might. Dick Morosi: Nice thinking by Lifer here, using his cunning and his speed to take Ryuji down, going for that right leg to slow Ryuji down even further. Running towards the ropes, Lifer flew towards Kamigawa and landed a quick running senton, his opponent quickly getting back up there after, landing a heavy headbutt to the biggest thorn in Gods & Monsters to be sure, quickly transitioning to a powerful press slam lift, slamming him down with a Samoan drop like it were easy, a harsh legdrop thereafter. He raised his arms to the side, his head flipping back as he taunted the only way a Gods & Monsters member knew how, the crowd raining down relentless boos in his direction. Seth Ericson: Ryuji in control again and this crowd won't stop giving him the attention that he deserves! Dick Morosi: Looks like he's about to tag in his partner Watanabe. This can't end well! And with that, Emi makes her way into the ring, face to face with a no longer prone Zack Lifer, a quick point to his head as if to taunt her intellence before Irish whipping her into his corner, a look his his eye as the gears in his head begin to turn. As she slumps to the ground, in a sitting position from the high sudden impact, Lifer runs her way for a harsh facewash to her cheek, the crowd going wild once again. As Emi falls to the ground, the former White Night makes his way for the top rope, falling atop Emi with a knee drop if only to see Emi roll away just before he could make impact, now on his knees, helpless to watch Emi stare his way with an intensity in her eyes. Dick Morosi: This doesn't bode well for Lifer, he may be in trouble here! Seth Ericson: Don't forget, DESTROY ALL HUMANS is a group not to be taken lightly and this proves it. He underestimated these monsters, toyed with their mind, and now he's gonna pay. I bet Cleon Gray's smiling his head off right about now! With a clubbing forearm strike to his face, Emi revels in the boos, left and rights in his direction without any remorse whatsoever, enough to cause some serious damage to the average man. However, finally collecting himself, Lifer reaches up and grabs her forearm, his other hand punching Watanabe square in the face with an sharp uppercut. Getting to his feet, Lifer's thanked by a hand on his throat, Emi using her strength to choke the life out of him, pushing him towards the corner at an awkward angle of his back. With that, she retreats, landing another tag to Ryuji once again, stepping off the scene and letting the co-founder of Gods & Monsters prepare for a Champagne Call, running at his opponent for the corner-to-corner avalanche! Lifer falls to the mat once more, a quick addition to the offense from the fresh member of the team by lifting his head by his short hair, his eyes glazed over a bit before getting hit with a devastating headbutt to finish him off! Blood began to pour from his forehead, the liquid collecting on his forehead before his head smacked back down, Ryuji releasing his grip. With that, he goes for the pin. ONE! KICKOUT!!! Dick Morosi: Say what you will about Lifer as a person but his resilience is second to none! Seth Ericson: It's the blood, Dick. Now he's angry, motivated more than ever! This could be very, very bad for DESTROY ALL HUMANS. We've never seen a truly aggressive Lifer until these past few shows and it's something to watch for sure! Lifer's eyes go wide, and he looks into Ryuji Kamigawa's eyes – no, deeper than that. As Kamigawa stoops to pick Zack up, Lifer retaliates with his OWN headbutt, a wild-eyed expression written all over his face. Kamigawa staggers back a handful of steps, and Lifer surges to his feet. Blood trickles down his head as he fearlessly lunges at the much larger Kamigawa. THUNK! Dick Morosi: Jesus Christ! Zack Lifer grabbed Kamigawa by the ears! Another headbutt! THUNK! Seth Ericson: Another one! Lifer's split open, but he doesn't give a good God damn! THUNK! THUNK! THUNK! Three more headbutts drop Ryuji Kamigawa down to one knee. The arena lets out a roar as blood continues to drip down Zack Lifer's head. He wipes it from his face and eyes, and promptly makes the hand into a fist, POUNDING away at the skull of the Monster in White, shot after shot until Kamigawa finally falls flat to his back from Lifer's incredible onslaught. Dick Morosi: Five headbutts and furious fists from the New Iron Saint have put Ryuji Kamigawa on his back! Zack Lifer has gone mental! Seth Ericson: He's a Goddamned berserker! He just literally fought a man much larger than him down to his knees, and then to the flat of his back! He looks like a Panzer in there! DESTROY ALL HUMANS is a great name, but that man in there right now may NOT be human! Lifer backs up carefully, measuring the downed Ryuji. Kamigawa has Lifer's blood on his own face, in his own eyes, as he confusedly looks around, as if wondering the number of the truck that hit him. By contrast, Zack is focused, and lets out a loud scream, and charges the slowly recovering Kamigawa – DRIVING his knee into Ryuji's skull! Dick Morosi: FORCED SUICIDE! Lifer got all of it! Zack immediately segues into a cover, cinching Kamigawa's leg deeply. ONE! TWO! THR—NO! SAVE BY WATANABE! Seth Ericson: That's the problem with the two on one handicap match! Lifer has Kamigawa dead to rights, but Watanabe's still there! The official struggles in vain to get Watanabe out of the ring as she grabs Lifer by the hair. Pulling him to his feet, Watanabe crushes him with a pair of elbow strikes, then spins into a spinning backfist, sending Lifer loopy... Dick Morosi: The E-M-I! But wait! Watanabe grabs hold of Lifer's wrist, and pulls him in. With her free arm, she throws a vicious, rising elbow under the chin. It hits Lifer in the jaw, sending him spiraling to the canvas, the blood in his hair arcing and splattering on the canvas. Seth Ericson: That's the AK-09! Good LORD, she just decimated Zack Lifer! Lifer's got to be out! He's got to be unconscious! Shooting the official a dirty glare, Watanabe defiantly drags Ryuji Kamigawa's body on top of the downed Lifer. The official refuses to count until Emi leaves the ring, which she finally does, a satisfied smile on her face. Dick Morosi: Gray's got to be smiling backstage! The numbers advantage is too much for the New Iron Saint! Down the referee goes, to secure the match-ending three count. ONE! TW—KICKOUT! Seth Ericson: Wait, WHAT?! Indeed, the shoulder is up – at one and a half. Defiantly. Proudly. Ryuji Kamigawa is too loopy to recognize it – and on the apron, the Human Kaiju stares at Zack Lifer, uncomprehending, disbelieving. Dick Morosi: Zack Lifer kicked out of the AK-07 BEFORE TWO! I don't know how, but he did it! Seth Ericson: He's fighting out of his mind right now! He was UNCONSCIOUS before he hit the ground! He had to be! Lifer slowly extricates himself from underneath the still unconscious Kamigawa. Rising to one knee, then his feet, he beckons Watanabe forward, into the ring. Her eyes are still wide, as if she's seen a ghost. Zack insists, rolling Kamigawa, even, over to the DAH corner, to make sure that she's within tagging range of her partner. Lifer even backs away, to permit Emi fair entrance to the ring. Dick Morosi: This..is pretty Goddamned weird. Seth Ericson: No arguments here, partner. Watanabe-san looks trapped for a moment. Still, she swallows, hard, and reaches down to smack her partner's hand, registering the tag. Emi Watanabe looks as hesitant as she ever has as she steps into the ring to face down a bloodied and battered, but not unbowed, Zack Lifer. Dick Morosi: Kamigawa is out, so for all intents and purposes, this is one-on-one for a while! Lifer has to finish Watanabe before the Monster in White recovers! Lifer strides with purpose to center ring. Something resembling a fearless smile crosses his face. It takes Watanabe only a moment more to meet him. They stare one another down, silently, one Japanese woman and one American man. Her English is limited, but that doesn't seem to matter, as their lips don't even move. Finally, she nods. And he nods. Seth Ericson: Um, what the Hell is going on? Lifer throws the first strike by about a half second. Soon, Watanabe retaliates, throwing wild, looping right hands that all find their target, just as Lifer introduces Watanabe's face to a combination of elbows, forearms, and fists. Dick Morosi: No technique! No pausing! They're just throwing BOMBS at each other! Watanabe's head snaps back, just as she lands a straight left hand to Lifer's jaw. She lunges for a huge right uppercut that Lifer manages to tank on his chin, before retorting with a vicious right hook to the nose. The shot lands right on the button, dropping Watanabe to the seat of her pants, almost in astonishment. Before she can react, Lifer THROWS himself down at her, CRUSHING her in the face with yet another elbow strike. Seth Ericson: DEAD AIR! Lifer got it! Zack manages to cover, crawling atop Emi and cinching the leg tight. ONE! TWO! THREEE!!! Dick Morosi: Lifer has done it! He's survived two on one against Destroy All Humans, and not just survived – he's THRIVED! As the bell sounds, an exhausted but still pumped up Lifer raises his arms in the air, and the official moves to grab the wrist of Lifer. David Zinkus: Your winner of this contest, ZACK LIFER! Seth Ericson: Zack Lifer is proving more and more by the day that he's not a man to be trifled with! He can handle anything Cleon Gray can throw at him, and he may well be the gravest threat Gods & Monsters has ever seen! WINNER: ZACK LIFERDick Morosi: Zack Lifer comes through with a huge victory here on EXPRO On FX! Seth Ericson: How is Cleon Gray going to react to this?! After what happened earlier, this can't be good! Dick Morosi: Take your moment, Lifer! Let's head backstage! The Big L is pacing back and forth, the camera fixed on the other two of TROUBLE Wulf Erikksen and Stacey-X. Wulf and Stacey watch the massive bronze skin man pacing. Wulf and Stacey look at each other, Wulf looks like he’s gonna say something-- Steve Lenton: The Big L knows what you’re gonna say, you’re gonna say, “Why so tense? What’s up big guy, what’s got you so pumped up?!” Wulf looks at Steve strangely and then looks at Stacey. Something tells the audience Steve took the words right out of his mouth. Wulf shrugs, he lets Steve finish. Steve Lenton: The Big L’s pumped, because after three long, long weeks we’re BACK...in SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA!!!! The fans can be heard cheering, Lenton smirks and nods his head. Wulf nods along and then goes to say something. Steve Lenton: And The Big L knows what you’re gonna say, “It’s always good to be back in the place where we won the EXODUS Pro Wrestling Tag Team Championships!!” Wulf pauses and now he looks like he’s getting scared, Stacey is looking on. Stacey-X: ...Are you a wizard? Wulf looks at Stacey with a quirked eyebrow, Steve’s head darts towards her confused, but shrugs it off, he’s on a roll. Steve Lenton: But that’s not why, because SOON, SOON...Steve Lenton and The Big Bad Wulf himself go into that ring to face bossman Jonathan Collins and the red HOT, and I mean HOT...Lexy Chapel. He’s PUMPED, and he’s ready for this MATCH!!! Wulf sees there’s an opening for something to say...Wulf looks at Stacey trying to get some reassurance that it’s OKAY to speak. Stacey waves him on to say something...ANYTHING… Wulf Erikksen: ...I-- Steve Lenton: AND WULF ERIKKSEN IS READY...FOR THIS MATCH!! Wulf places a hand over his face and rubs it down. Wulf blinks his eyes and shakes his head. He just stares at Lenton who seems to be so INTENT on speaking. Steve Lenton: TONIGHT, Lexy and Jon are going to be in for one HELL of a match. Entertainment, action, drama, hell LAUGHS, all balled up into this one tag team match. TONIGHT, San Diego, California will see TROUBLE...WIN and they will see why we’re the tag team champions of the WORLD!!! Steve looks at Wulf and looks like he’s expecting him to speak. Steve Lenton: ...You gonna say something…?! Don’t leave me hangin’...!! Wulf looks at Steve, rubs the bridge of his nose. He waves Steve to stand back. Steve gives Wulf the floor… Wulf Erikksen: ...What the big guy said… Wulf walks off, Steve looks on, Stacey shakes her head, leaving Steve high and dry. Steve Lenton: What, The Big L gave ya a chance. C’mon guys, come back!! Steve goes to follow them as the scene fades away and we go to commercial. |
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Post by EXODUS Office on Apr 28, 2014 13:13:13 GMT -6
The show returns from commercial in the backstage area. The camera moves down the hall and pauses, peering around the open locker room door. On the bench, Chuck Matthews sits, seemingly oblivious to the camera's presence. He seems frustrated, based on the frown etched on his face. A faint buzzing snaps him out of his trance. Chuck glances at the bench, where his phone is vibrating. The camera zooms in, trying to catch the caller's ID, but Chuck picks up the phone before it can get a good view.
Chuck Matthews: I was wondering when you'd give me this call.
The voice is barely audible, but the camera can just pick up the sound of a woman's voice.
Woman: There's a change of plans.
Chuck Matthews: Yeah, I figured as much.
Woman: You have any ideas?
Chuck frowns, that familiar thoughtful look creeping across his face.
Chuck Matthews: I'm working on it. I mean, it's clear what we need to do. It's all about getting to the source of the problem. We just need to target-
Woman: If you're thinking what I think you are, you can't go through with it. It's impossible. You'll never get anywhere near him.
Chuck stares off into space. It's evident by his expression that the gears in his head are already turning.
Chuck Matthews: If there's one thing I've learned, it's that nobody's untouchable. It's just a matter of finding the right card to play. Just...give me a second here.
There's silence on the other end. Finally, the woman speaks.
Woman: Look, it's my fault for bringing you into this. You really don't have to go through with it if it's too much trouble.
Chuck's face softens.
Chuck Matthews: Listen, if it was really that bad, I wouldn't have taken the job. You got me into EXODUS. That was the tricky bit. This is just a new development in a much bigger picture. Have some faith, it'll work out for us in the end. I'm pretty good at that.
Woman: Right...no, you're right. You're the best, that's why I came to you. I'm just afraid we may have bitten off more than we can chew.
Chuck Matthews: I've got it under control. Don't you worry.
Woman: So what are you thinking?
Chuck pauses, stroking his chin.
Chuck Matthews: I'm thinking we-....hold on a second.
He puts the phone down, looking back at the camera in the door.
Chuck Matthews: That enough for your highlight reel?
He winks at the camera and shuts the door, ending the scene and bringing us back to Dick & Seth.
Dick Morosi: What do you think that was about?
Seth Ericson: I don't know, Dick! Probably the same thing all of Chuck's tweets are about...his ass?
Dick Morosi: I don't have Twitter.
Seth Ericson: You're a better person for it.
Dick Morosi: Anyways, coming up next is a match between Jaime Alejandro and the numb--huh?
The camera cuts backstage where we see Kira T. Zeppeli pacing back and forth in a dimly lit corridor. It’s not clear what is going through the number one contender’s mind, but it’s clear from the look on his face that something is definitely bothering him As he we walks he fidgets with his clothing, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt to suit, yet his nervous jitters are not suppressed. His gesturing suddenly come to an abrupt halt, a shadow falling upon the concrete wall from a source off screen moving into position. Kira sees what the camera does not portray, and he looks directly at the source that has brought everything in his world to a sudden stoppage. His eyes flicker with recognition, almost a foreshadowing of sorts as the unidentified figure becomes identified. It is none other than the leader of his faction.
Christum Furor: Kira, I know we’ve been on the same page for a long time and to be honest, out of all of my disciples you’re the one I’ve trusted the most. I have this feeling of comfortability with you, and it makes sense. You are the scalpel of the New Age, and you have served me well. However, I have this sudden feeling in the back of my head, this feeling of uncertainty that you could now be in a world of your own, a world that you quite possibly don’t understand.
Kira looks somewhat confused and disconcerted, yet Christum plants a hand on his shoulder in an effort to comfort. Zeppeli looks straight into the revolutionary’s eyes, and in those eyes is a cloud of paranoia.
Christum Furor: You’ve have done everything I’ve asked you, Kira. You have carried the banner of Gods & Monsters with unwavering conviction. All that you’ve asked is for me to point you in the direction of those filled with misery, filled with despair so that you could use their depression as sustenance, so that you could continue to exist. And I have helped you, given you your identity, given you the opportunity to constantly vindicate your existence. But now, I wonder what’s going through your head. And I can see it Kira, I can see the menagerie of thoughts running through your head. The mechanism of your mind has become enigmatic, has betrayed you and now you have forgotten how you are. But I do not blame you, Kira. In a way, I blame myself. I blame myself for putting you into a position where your identity could come into question, where you would be put into a perilous predicament that you were not equipped to handle. But understand Kira, understand that I am here to relieve you of the pressure that ails you.
Furor takes a deep breath while Zeppeli tries to come to grips with whatever the former World Champion is eluding to.
Christum Furor: You are an exceptional talent, Kira. You are my scalpel and you have succeeded where others have failed to prosper. But you have an unnecessary burden on your shoulders. I am here to relieve you of that albatross. You see, I have a vision for this company. I intend to finally repair this broken system, to upset the established order of corruption and shift this paradigm, undoing the cycle of hatred that has made us into the people that we are. I want to help you, Kira. This world has turned you into what you are, a monstrosity that needs to consume the anguish of others in order to survive due to the transgressions and calamities that you have endured. But to do that, I must be the one to challenge for the World Championship. It must be me Kira. It’s all become clear to me, my friend. Once I reclaim the title, once SHE arrives my manifest destiny will finally realize its true potential, and the New Age will ultimately be cemented. That’s why I cannot allow you to hinder my destiny, that’s why I need something from you, Kira.
Kira is about to speak, but Furor cuts him off, trying to hammer his ideals back into him as if he’s reprogramming him.
Christum Furor: I need you to trust me, Kira. I need you to continue to believe in me and everything that we have worked so hard to build, together. I need you to make this sacrifice Kira, to sacrifice fleeting glory and superficialities in order to become something more. You will not only be the scalpel of Gods & Monsters, but you will be the man that facilitated the change from this hate-filled world to universal peace.
Furor removes his burlap mask now, revealing his delirious, paranoid state as he awaits Kira’s answer.
Kira T. Zeppeli: I realize what you’re asking. I understand that it is best for us, it’s best for the New Age. While others have defected, or gone away from us due to their pursuit of ego indulgence I am still here. I have always been here because I am loyal this cause. I will prove my loyalty.
Furor smiles now, a wicked, malevolent smirk.
Christum Furor: That is all I need, Kira. I need you to allow me to go in your place and undo a wrong, undo an injustice and finally plunge this corrupt world into oblivion. I know how big of a sacrifice this is, I know more than anybody. But personal sacrifice is often necessary for to attain peace and with your sacrifice, you will be the bridge that ends this war and leads us to the enlightened future.
We cut elsewhere backstage after what just transpired to Darrin Stearns who sighs as he looks over at his wife, shaking his head almost frustrated at the events of the past couple of shows. Clearly unhappy Cleon chose to "punish" his wife for next to nothing, he finally sits next to her and puts an arm around her.
Darrin Stearns: So I talked to Jonathan. He's going to give you a title match against Savannah Taylor at Absent Are the Saints.
Tiffani Stearns: So I basically have to fight to win back what should still be mine in the first place?
Darrin Stearns: It's the best he can do, considering Jon's hands are tied. I don't know what it is, but it's like he's afraid to cross Cleon.
Tiffani Stearns: Darrin this isn't fair! I did nothing wrong!
Darrin Stearns: I know, I know. And that's why Jon was able to get this match. However...he did tell me one other thing.
Darrin grins a little smugly and raises an eyebrow at her.
Tiffani Stearns: ...what did he tell you?
Darrin leans over and starts whispering something in her ear. Tiffani's eyes widen almost immediately.
Tiffani Stearns: Are you serious?!
Darrin Stearns: Come on! This is great news!
Tiffani Stearns: And you're totally fine with this?
Darrin Stearns: Well...you do know the rules of one of those, right?
Tiffani Stearns: I'm familiar, yes.
Darrin Stearns: So you know what'll happen if things get hairy.
Tiffani Stearns: Nothing I can't handle though.
Darrin Stearns: Besides...I might have a tip or two.
Tiffani Stearns: I'm always willing to learn.
Darrin Stearns: Good. We're going to start with some yardwork. See, you're about to find out that my other best friend besides Jon has always been a weedwhacker...
Darrin starts grinning while continuing to talk to Tiffani as the sound cuts out and we go to a commercial break.
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Post by EXODUS Office on Apr 28, 2014 13:14:12 GMT -6
The camera cuts to the backstage area after the commercials, where Nate Soto is in the corner of a dressing room, freshly showered and changed, packing his things into his bag. He adjusts the cap that covers his unstyled hair and lets out an audible sigh, then almost jumps at the voice that comes from behind him. Kameron Chase: What the hell happened out there, Nate? Nate doesn't even look up at his mentor; instead he just shakes his head and then shrugs his shoulders as he continues to put things into his bag. Nate Soto: I don't know, Kam. It just wasn't my night, I guess. Kameron Chase: Not good enough, kid. Nate Soto: Nothing ever is. Nate's words come in a mumble and he zips up the bag after dumping in the rest of his things. Kameron arches a brow but doesn't respond directly to the rookie's comment. Kameron Chase: Well, clearly you still don't know what you're doing out there and you don't have what it takes to stand on your own two feet-- Nate sighs and spins around, causing Kameron to stop speaking at the sudden movement. Nate lifts his eyes to look at the taller man and then lowers his head again, gaze narrowing on the concrete ground for a few seconds before he finds the courage to meet Kameron's eyes again. Nate Soto: I get it, okay? I'm not good enough and you don't wanna be associated with me anymore. You told me this already. I had my "warning". After slinging his bag over his shoulder, Nate makes a move to round Kameron and leave the locker room. Chase doesn't make any attempt to stop him but turns around to watch him, speaking out as the Texan reaches the door. Kameron Chase: Not what I was going to say but if you wanna tuck your tail between your legs and go home, then go right ahead. With his hand on the handle of the door, Nate stops. He stays still for a few seconds before slowly turning to look over his shoulder. Nate Soto: Then what? Kameron Chase: Well, it seems pretty obvious to me that you still need to me to hold your hand and walk you through everything, so let me show you how it's done. Frowning, Nate turns around, adjusting the bag on his shoulder as he looks at his trainer. Nate Soto: And what does that mean? Kameron Chase: Next show, we'll team up. We'll go at whoever they wanna throw us up against and I'll give you a real lesson on what it takes to be a wrestler. Nate Soto: I thought you were "retired". Kameron Chase: Yeah, so did I... But you know how it goes... Desperate times and all that. Kameron shrugs and Nate nods his head. Nate Soto: Alright. Worth a shot, I guess. Kameron Chase: Then I'll get it done. The rookie gives a hint of a smile, which Kameron returns and then slips out of the door. We cut back to Dick and Seth. Dick Morosi: It's been several months since we've seen Kameron Chase in an EXODUS ring, but here we are now! Seth Ericson: This should be interesting. Who do you think will be the pair to face off against Chase and Soto? Dick Morosi: That's the real question. For now, we've got a match coming next! For the first time in EXODUS' rich history, two originals square off in their first encounter! Abby Park meets former World Champion, Christum Furor...next! SINGLES MATCH
ABBY PARK vs. CHRISTUM FURORThe lights in the arena dim to just below total black as a soft, lilting tune from a traditional zither gently plays throughout the sound system. The figure of Abby Park stands in front of the entryway, her back facing the crowd. A light shines on the symbol emblazoned on the back of her attire. The zither fades as a roaring drum kicks in. MAW MAW MA MA MA MA MAW "Maw Maw Song" by The Joy Formidable blasts through the arena as the lights come up. Abby turns around and thrusts both fists into the air, her mouth open in a shout that is all but drowned out by the music. David Zinkus: Making her way to the ring, weighing in at 118 pounds... From Nashville, Tennessee, ABBY PARK! I'm big
Like a warrior I've grown sure
So draw, draw, let me right you Abby brings her fists down but looks at her right arm for a mere moment. After looking at the arm, she lightly slaps her cheeks three times and proceeds to walk down the ramp, her eyes focused intently on the ring. Though her eyes remain forward, she averts them as she slaps a few hands with the fans, grinning ear to ear. You want it all
You want it all
I know you do
I know you do Using the steps to get to the apron, Abby steps into the ring and stands in the center. Abby lifts her left palm in front of her chest. Quickly she hits her palm with her right fist. Once. Twice. Three times. After the third time she raises her right fist skyward, again her mouth letting out a yell. Here now, the wind it blows high
Just cover your mouth for a colorful lie
Your hand, put it right here
I'm taking you somewhere
Somewhere to live Before dropping her fist, she points towards a random section of the crowd and gives a thumbs up, listening for the reaction. She drops her fist and walks towards a corner and waits, eyes towards her opponent, as the music dies down until the zither plays briefly before coming to an end. A brief flash of silence passes through the arena as the stage is shined on by red light, the house lights dimming and filling the arena with darkness. The crimson hues float over the entryway and ramp, absorbed by the somewhat blank canvas of the squared circle. Suddenly the tranquil and quiet ambiance in the arena is poisoned by the sound of "The Quiet Place" by In Flames which rumbles onto the P.A. system. The aforementioned arena is quickly filled with boos and waves of hatred filled jeers as the curtains begin to sway ever so slightly; all eyes feast themselves upon the said commotion at the entryway, followed by a sudden increase in the crowd's negative uproar which signals the emergence of the Loaded Pistol. David Zinkus: And her opponent, representing Gods & Monsters... Fighting out of Detroit Michigan, he stands at six foot-four inches tall, and weighs in tonight at two-hundred and forty pounds... he is "The Loaded Pistol" CHRISTUM FUROR! “Spinning further deeper
I know you're out to try me
I'm not in this to be a slave
I push the dirt
Make me feel
Locate what swallows life
Night bird you build my world”
"..and then I close my eyes
..and then I close my eyes" As his name echoes through the venue, the velvet curtains are ruffled from their suspension with the brushing of white hockey-tape covered hands. Christum is revealed to the teaming masses of humanity with a pair of black knee pads and boots, along with a pair of denim shorts and a Stone Temple Pilots T-shirt, half soaked with water that drips from his jet black locks. Furor stands still and tall at the apex of the ramp, his face black, his wavy hair covering his face as his head hangs askew whilst he poses in the crucifix. Christum begins to march down the aisle, removing his shirt and carelessly tossing it to the floor in the process as he proceeds to walk with a slow, methodical, fatigued-appearing amble, with his shoulders relaxed and arms dangling loosely, his weight shifting from foot to foot to cause him to somewhat sway - idiosyncrasies that go unmatched yet unnoticed to the untrained eye. Dick Morosi: So, what do you think, Seth? Does Abby Park have what it takes to take down the self-proclaimed God? Seth Ericson: You know damn well she has just as much of a chance as anyone else. Abby's been around EXODUS, showing her worth, and now that we're here today, you better believe she'll be turning some heads. Dick Morosi: Turning some heads? Are you serious, Seth? Is that all you think about? Seth Ericson: ... I think about other things too. Dick Morosi: Like what? Seth pauses, trying to think to himself. Seth Ericson: You can't just put me on the spot like that, Dick! You're suck a Dick! Can we just watch this match already? "Judge me now
Used to be afraid to let it show, bow down
A king in my own mind
Everything's in place so much brighter from today" Furor knees up onto the apron, slowly pulling himself up with the aid of the ropes. He turns to look at the camera, his eyes staring directly into the lens which captures his smoldering soul, and then into the outskirts of the arena, the jeers and boos of the patrons merely deflecting off of his aura. He slowly marches along the apron before climbing the turnbuckle. His head is lowered, as his fists are planted into the top padding; as he sits on his perch atop the ring he takes a deep breath, thought after thought rushing to the surface of his cerebral, twisted, demented thoughts and plans he intends to carry out to torment his adversary. "Drown the monster
Make all bad dreams go away
Whatever it takes to keep your hands free
Open scars, the quiet place
All the bridges fall to the ground and you say you sacrificed"
"..and then I close my eyes
..and then I close my eyes" Christum climbs down from the corner and drops down into the ring, his feet landing on the canvas with a slight thud. He slowly backs into the corner and crouches slightly, his cold-blooded eyes unblinking as his theme fades away. DING DING DING! The match begins with the two circling each other, albeit briefly before Christum Furor makes the first move. He steps forward, quickly hooking Abby for a double underhook DDT that sends her to the mat. She quickly makes it to her feet, landing a swift back fist to Christum's face. This only ignores the false god, stumbling back for a moment before smashing her jaw with a harsh European uppercut to the chin, his eyes feuled with fire, Abby retorting with a European uppercut of her own, focused on the match at hand. Dick Morosi: These two are so evenly matched in the early moments of this match. It's a-- And with that, Furor slips behind her and lands a heavy German suplex, an armbar submission that causes Abby to scream out under the pressure. She desperately reaches for the ropes, but to no avail. Christum worked on that arm with intensity before releasing his grip, his eyes glazed over as he reached for her leg, attempting to reach her to the middle of the ring. Abby reversed it, kicking Magnus with her boot, kicking his hand away and getting to her feet. Abby stood to her feet slowly before reaching to land an STO, only to fail and for Chistum to reverse it with a reverse STO of his own, slamming her on the mat. Furor taunts the crowd, listening to their jeers and boos with a sick and twisted half-grin across his face before dropping to his knees and reaching for the pin. ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Seth Ericson : Christum's gonna kill you... Christum's gonna kill you... With that chant, a small chant goes out for a few moments, repeating the words Seth spoke, the G&M loyalists going along with the words over and over. Christum's eyes dart to the referee, yelling and belittling him before suddenly getting put in a rollup by Abby Park to everyone's surprise! ONE! TWO! KICKOUT! Christum's eyes open in shock, he wasn't expecting that rollup whatsoever. He pushes Abby off him and gets to his feet quickly, landing a devastating Magnus Driver on Abby Park! As she lands on the mat, Furor prepares himself, readying himself for his finisher. Just as Abby Park gets to her feet... Seth Ericson: HAMMER OF DAWN! HE HOOKS THE LEG! ONE! TWO! THREE! "The Quiet Place" starts again, and the crowd jeers as Abby lays in the ring, frustrated and beaten and Gunner gets to his feet, victorious. WINNER: MAGNUS GUNNERDick Morosi: I hate to say it, but there may not be a person left to face the World Champion at Absent Are the Saints if this keeps up. Seth Ericson: Christum Furor is on a one man rampage...someone's got to stop him. Dick Morosi: Folks, I've just been told over my headset we've got a special video package. The first confirmed competitor for The Crucible has just been announced...and here he is. Let's watch the tape. Ever have that moment when everything you know is ripped away from you?Flash back to December 2, ExPro on FX #7. Dan Stein is walking up the ramp, celebrating the fact that he just earned a spot in the Honor Cup. Jerry Matthews appears from behind the curtains with a steel chair, and swings it back… the camera freezes just before contact is made. The extreme test of resilience. You’ve been doing this for all of your adult life, and in an instance, it’s over.The footage switches to the shot of the hospital room where a group of doctors are standing around an operating table. Dan Stein lays on his stomach, connected to all of the necessary tubes. Surgery. Rehabilitation. Pain. Bruising. The weaker minds would give up and call it a career.Again the footage switches, this time to Dan Stein doing leg extensions while strapped to a resistance cord, then transitions in further footage of Stein rehabilitating the leg. Not Dan Stein. Not the Golden Boy. Nothing will keep Dan Stein away from the ring.Footage of Dan Stein training in a local gym, rolling and sparring with blurred faces and bigger bodies. Five months of rehab, dedicating his life to getting better physically, mentally… All for this moment, this one opportunity to regain what was taken from him.The camera now opens up on Dan Stein, standing in the backstage area of the RIMAC Arena, wearing a baby blue EXPRO t-shirt. Stein stands alone, with a giant grin on his face. Dan Stein: Tell everyone in the back: Dan Stein’s going to be in The Crucible. Tap out or feet out, they’re all going to experience the same thing. Stein smirks and walks past the camera. Dan Stein: Lights Out. Cut to commercial. |
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Post by EXODUS Office on Apr 28, 2014 13:16:54 GMT -6
The camera cuts to the backstage area as we see the former San Diego Bay champion Tiffani Stearns walking down the hallway and she comes to a complete stop when she notices Savannah Taylor coming towards her carrying the San Diego Bay championship proudly on her shoulder. Tiffani’s eyes narrow slightly as she makes her way closer towards Savannah and she crosses her arms in front of her chest. Savannah smirks as she notices the way Tiffani is eying her championship belt. Tiffani Stearns: You must be so proud of yourself, walking around with a championship belt that you didn’t even earn. Savannah looks from her belt and then at Tiffani, her smirk never wavering. Savannah Taylor: I AM proud of myself. thanks for noticing. I’m just going to pretend I don’t notice the lovely shade of green that seems to be surrounding you. It REALLY isn’t your color. Tiffani Stearns: I am NOT jealous, thank you very much. It’s actually really sad this is the way you could have a championship belt in the first place, by essentially stealing it from someone. Savannah Taylor: Correction. I did not steal it. It was AWARDED to me by Cleon Gray. BIG difference. Tiffani shakes her head as she presses her lips together trying to keep herself composed. Tiffani Stearns: Only after he stripped me of it for no valid reason. Rest assured that if you had been booked in a match against me, you would not be the San Diego Bay champion right now. The Las Vegas native cocks her head to the side as her hazel eyes narrow slightly. Savannah Taylor: You really do believe that, don’t you princess? I’m glad you are THAT confident in your abilities that you think you could have beat me. If you ever feel froggy, I’ll clear my calendar just for you...princess. Tiffani Stearns: Wow, someone really thinks highly of herself, doesn’t she? Especially considering she’s been doing a lot of running away from me ever since she was handed MY championship belt. Tiffani smiles towards Savannah before she shrugs her shoulders. Tiffani Stearns: All bark and no bite, I imagine. Savannah Taylor: You want to see how bad my bite is, princess? Why don’t you go ask your close friend Jonathan or your precious Darrin to make a match. THEN we will see who is ducking who. The smirk was wiped off of her face and replaced by a borderline sneer as Savannah places one hand on her hip and the other on her title belt. Tiffani Stearns: You mistake me for someone who needs to hide behind who my husband is, trust me when I say that I’m not going to need anybody’s help to get my belt back, and wipe that smirk right off your pretty face. Savannah Taylor: You can come up with whatever stipulation your pretty little brain can think of. The fact of the matter is that I will walk IN as champion and walk OUT as champion. Tiffani continues smiling as she reaches out to gently tap her index finger up against the golden plate of the San Diego championship belt. Tiffani Stearns: Oh, don’t worry sweetie, I have something in mind that will leave a permanent mark on that face. I wouldn’t want you to forget about me after all. Savannah Taylor: I couldn’t forget you even if I tried. Trust me….I couldn’t. She says as she never takes her eyes off of Tiffani’s finger on her title belt. Tiffani Stearns: Good. I’m going to show you that you messed with the wrong girl. You don’t scare me in the slightest and I’m not going to stop until I’ve ripped my championship belt out of those undeserving hands. Savannah Taylor: I’ll be waiting for your best efforts. However, your best won’t be enough because when I’m through with you, no one, especially your precious Darrin, will recognize you. Tiffani Stearns: That’s cute, that was almost scary! I think you’ve forgotten what Darrin used to do before he retired, I think he’d be more than willing to teach me a thing or two when it comes to hardcore matches. Upon hearing the word hardcore, Savannah lets her grin reappear as she starts to laugh. Savannah Taylor: Hardcore, eh? Then I suggest you study up princess, because it’s going to be a long night for you when we meet in the ring. All of your preparations will be all for naught. Tiffani Stearns: I think I can handle myself, thank you. You won’t have Cleon there to protect you, after all, so let's see what you can do on your own Savannah. Savannah Taylor: I assure you, Tiffani. I will handle myself quite well on my own. She says with a smirk as she turns and starts to walk down the hall. She stops in her tracks and turns back around, calling out to Tiffani. Savannah Taylor: Hey Tiffani. I almost forgot something. Tiffani Stearns: What could you possibly have forgotten? Savannah Taylor: This. With that, Savannah rushes at Tiffani and clocks her clean upside the head with her San Diego Bay championship belt. Watching as the former champion crumbles to the floor, Savannah stands there with the same grin that she had before, only her eyes contain a dangerous glint. Savannah Taylor: You are going to regret agreeing to this match, princess. Auf Wiedersehen. She adjusts the belt over her shoulder and blows a kiss to the fallen Tiffani as a flurry of backstage officials hurry onto the scene. Savannah stands back and admires the scene for a minute before walking off just as they fade out to the arena. Dick Morosi: Savannah Taylor is despicable. Seth Ericson: And ridiculously hot. Dick Morosi: Will you stop? Seth Ericson: I'm just calling it as I see it! Dick Morosi: Well call this! We've got a big non-title match coming up! It's the tag team champions, Trouble, going up against the team of Lexy Chapel and Jonathan Collins...next! TAG TEAM MATCH
LEXY CHAPEL (EXODUS Pro International Champion) & JONATHAN COLLINS vs. TROUBLE (EXODUS Pro Tag Team Champions)David Zinkus: Our next contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall. The lights dim in the arena as the organ for the start of a song begins. I am the last man, stand, survivor
I am the last man home.
I'll be the last man, stand, survivor
I'll be the last man home... David Zinkus: Introducing first, from Anaheim, California, weighing in at two hundred and twelve pounds… he is none other than THE Jonathan! Collins! The lights in the arena are dark, save for a few at the entrance way as they start to illuminate for the silhouette of one man. As "Last Man Standing" by People In Planes continues to play, finally kicking in with drums and full band, they finally fully light up to show Jonathan Collins in his gear and ring jacket, his trademark sleeveless long hoodie! David Zinkus: And his partner, from North London, England, weighing in at one hundred an fourteen pounds… she is the undefeated, International Champion! This is Lexy! CHAPEL! As the spotlights flash across the stage and the video screens come to life, “Cynics and Critics” by Icon For Hire hits the PA system. “We’re not cynics; we just don’t believe a word you say
We’re not critics, we just hate it all anyway” As the music continues blaring, Lexy Chapel walks out on to the stage, carrying the EXODUS International Championship. She smiles as the crowd roars for her, and that smile only widens as Jonathan Collins gives her a round of applause. . T H E . C H A P E L . S H O W . They both make their way to the ring as the music continues to play, the fans going nuts for the duo as they walk down to the ring and pose on the entrance ramp together. As the chorus of the song begins, both slide in to the ring and climb up on to opposite corners, filming the fans again with their phones before turning and filming each other. “Oh this is all we know
Oh tragic and miserable
We’re not cynics; we just don’t believe a word you say
We’re not critics, we just hate it all anyway
Oh this is all we’ve got
Oh we do what we’ve been taught
We’re not cynics; we just don’t believe a word you say
We’re not critics, we just hate it all anyway” They both jump down from their corners and walk to the middle of the ring, getting ready for what should be a good match. Dick Morosi: Lexy Chapel is living the dream, Seth. International Champion, getting to tag with one of her idols in Jonathan Collins. Dreams do come true. Seth Ericson: That’s only half true. I’ve been begging the Grays to replace you with a hot young sorority girl, but they have yet to do so. The arena lights fade to black. For a few moments, there’s nothing but the noise of the crowd and the occasional flash of a camera. Suddenly, at full volume, Oh No You Didn't kicks in. Oh no,
Oh no,
Oh no...
Oh no you didn't!With that, the entrance lights fade up in Royal Blue, Red and White as Steve Lenton, Wulf Erikssen and Stacey-X enter the arena. Steve moves to the right of the entrance way, his title belt hung over his shoulder, Wulf to the left, his fan autographed belt strapped across his chest like a bandolier, with Stacey remaining in the middle. Each man raises a solitary arm in salute to the crowd, as Stacey raises both arms to indicate both performers. David Zinkus: “Introducing, weighing in at a combined weight of 481lbs, your EXODUS Pro Tag Team Championship... “Big L” Steve Lenton... “Barroom Hero” Wulf Erikssen... they are TROUBLE!” Both men head down the ramp, Steve with his trademark strut, Wulf giving high fives to the crowd as he passes. As they reach the ring, Steve stops for a moment, reaching out to the sides to allow the fans to reach in and touch him, whilst Wulf slides into the ring under the bottom rope. Steve quickly climbs onto the apron, and straight up the turnbuckle, whilst Wulf runs up to the diagonally opposite corner. Both men unstrap their belts whilst atop the turnbuckles, and hold them high above their head. Meanwhile, Stacey walks around the ring to the teams corner. The pair then drop down into the ring, meeting in the centre where they greet each other with a chest bump, handing their belts to the referee, before peeling off back to their corner to strategise. Seth Ericson: Trouble has been on a roll lately as a tandem. This is the first time they’ve teamed since dispelling DAH at Battle Without Honor or Humanity. I doubt this will be as physical an affair. Dick Morosi: Not at all. You’ve got four individuals who have a mutual respect and admiration for one another. Should be a great contest, Seth. Jon and Lexy take a look across the ring to Steve and then back to each other and do a quick game of rock, paper, scissors, with Lexy being the victor and taking the ring first. The bell sounds with Lenton and Chapel coming together in the middle of the ring. They shake hands as a sign of mutual respect before both competitors lock up in a collar and elbow tie. The shorter Chapel struggles as she deals with The Big L’s size advantage for a few seconds before she is able to get a hold of Lenton’s left arm, twisting out of the lock-up with wrist control. Steve checks his arm for tension then rolls to the ground in a somersault, showing off his athleticism, twisting while on the ground to completely relieve the pressure and then quickly thrust his big boot upward, catching Lexy surprise on the chin, canceling out the wristlock and bringing their brief exchange to a sudden stalemate. The audience shows their appreciation by applauding the two champions as they back up into their respective corners before coming back to the middle of the ring, presumably for another lock up. Just as both near each other, Lexy puts up her hand in a stop motion, confusing The Big L and bringing a temporary halt to their contest. Completely shocked that this actually worked out in her favor, the young star does an arm worm, ending with her corner where Jon Collins stands. The crowd erupts as Lexy retreats to her corner and tags in Jonathan Collins as Steve shakes his head in amusement, waiting with folded arms. Dick Morosi: It appears that Lexy was just playing the role of tease, for Jonathan Collins. Seth Ericson: Nice to see people take their professional seriously, or not. As the more and experienced and distinguished half of their team enters the ring to a sea of cheers, Lenton continues to wait, biting his nails, pretending like he’s disinterested. Jon Collins: I’ve got your kryptonite right here, Superman. Collins laughs, and Steve shoots him a look that suggests “Yeah Right”, before putting his hand in the air, signaling for a test of strength. Both men raise their hands in the middle of the ring, locking fingers as they commence the aforementioned test to see who has a firmer handshake - or has spent the most time pleasuring themselves when their significant others aren’t home. As both guys eagerly try to gain an advantage, Jonathan drives a knee into The Big L’s gut and throws his hands in the air an ayyy call, riling the crowd to get them involved a little. Grabbing the nape of his foe’s neck he lifts him to his feet and delivers a stiff chop before pushing him towards the ropes. Lenton looks completely appalled as he holds his chest, stinging with slight pain, though Jonathan is the one who seems to be in discomfort. He frantically shakes his hand, making sure that it isn’t broken. Steve Lenton: My mom hits harder than that Jon, I mean, sir. Jonathan Collins: Well she sounds like a real nice lady, Steve. Jon playfully shrugs his shoulders before grabbing Lenton’s left arm to gain some leverage to pull him in with an Irish Whip, attempting to hurl him to the other side of the ring. Lenton doesn’t even move a muscle; he’s like the immovable object as he just rests on the ropes, despite Collins trying his hardest to do so. Eventually, the New Era Wrestling legend relinquishes his grasp and leans over clutches the small of his back, taking a deep breath of fatigue. Lenton crouches forward a bit, staring Jonathan in the eye, prompting the Director to raise a finger as if to say “hold on”. The Californian, having gotten his breath back, makes a beeline for the ropes. He rebounds and goes for a shoulder block - only to be bounced back a few feet as he runs into a literal wall. Lenton doesn’t move an inch, he merely brushes off his shoulder blade, and looks at Collins to suggest that he was crazy for even trying to do so. Jonathan steps right up to Steve, holding his own shoulder wincing a little bit in disbelief as he pokes Lenton’s massive bicep. In response, The Big L flexes his muscle, grinning from ear to ear as Collins looks out to the crowd, impressed by the physical stature of his strapping employee. Steve Lenton: Milk. Lots of milk and Vitamin D. Seth Ericson: Steve Lenton is made out of everything manly. I’m talking about action flicks, mustaches, cold beer and motorcycles. Dick Morosi: And Jon Collins just found that out, the hard way. He might of separating his shoulder trying to tackle The Big L. Jonathan nods, then pulls out a ten dollar bill from his pocket. Lenton furrows his brow in confusion as the crowd is equally as bewildered by what's going on. The EXPRO Director quickly runs at his teams corner, whispering something to Lexy, then tagging her in. The International Champion passes on the message to Steve, and the Big L acknowledges it by getting down onto his back. Lexy lies across his chest, and The Big L proceeds to bench press her. The crowd chants along, calling out the reps. “ONE!”
“TWO!”
“THREE!”
“FOUR!”
“FIVE!”
“SIX!”
“SEVEN!”
“EIGHT!”
“NINE!”
“TEN!”As soon as Lenton finishes and brings Chapel back down she quickly hooks his legs for the cover, looking to steal the win. ”ONE!”
“TWO!”Lenton tosses Lexy onto the canvas, and she immediately rolls away, climbing up to her feet to look at Steve who is completely shocked that she tried to catch him off guard. Chapel puts a hand over her mouth, half in disbelief that it didn’t work, half in disbelief that she got caught red handed. With Lenton getting back to his feet, Lexy dashes for the ropes. Englishwoman rebounds off the ropes, and is completely prepared for anything the massive Tag Champ might have in store for her. She quickly slides through his legs to the other side of the ring, gaining the advantage. As Steve turns around she runs at him, and though he lifts her up, she counters with a Tilt A Whirl headscissors. They helicopter a few times before drags him forward; however, The Big L has a few surprises of his own. He kartwheels to avoid being flipped forward, and his momentum carries him into the Trouble corner where he tags in Wulf Erikssen. Seth Ericson: You think the Big L does ballet in his free time, Dick? Dick Morosi: Well if he does it’s still better than what you do in yours. Wulf quickly steps up into the ring, and immediately charges at Chapel with a Clothesline, appearing to have had enough with the theatrics. Noticing this, Lexy immediately dodges, doing her best to keep her pretty little head on her shoulders. The International Champion dashes for the ropes, and quickly rebounds with an attempt at a Crossbody. Nope. The Barroom Hero catches her in mid-air, then flips her onto his shoulders. There’s a look of fear now in Chapel’s eyes, as she assumes the role of damsel in distress. However, there will be no one coming to her aid, as Erikssen begins spinning around like an airplane doing rotation after rotation after rotation until he finally sets the up and coming starlet down on her feet. Dizzied, Lexy stumbles on her feet like an inebriated drunk back in her home country, only being taken off her feet after a slight poke to the forehead from the Englishman. Wulf immediately goes for the pin. ”ONE!”
“TWO!”Lexy squirms out of the pinfall. She tries to crawl away, but Wulf doesn’t allow her to. He quickly sits on her lower back, causing Jonathan to enter the ring to come to her rescue, only to be admonished by referee Dan Arnouil. Jonathan Collins: Do you know who writes your checks, Dan? Dan Arnouil: Yeah, I do and since we’re on the topic I think I’m due for a raise. With the official’s back turned Wulf claps, prompting Steve Lenton to re-enter the ring. Erikssen grabs the International Champion’s legs, and Steve her hands, and Trouble commences to swing her back and forth like a hammock on a window summer night. They eventually toss her back into her corner, and she lands on the canvas with a thud. Seth Ericson: Bet that wasn’t her first threeway, Dick. Dick Morosi: You should get your head out the gutter, Seth. That’s a grown woman, and a professional wrestler you’re talking about. Lexy rolls into her corner and tags Collins back in. Collins quickly takes advantage with a flurry of kicks to Steve’s midsection. He goes for another, but The Big L has other ideas. He catches Collins’ leg, prompting the Director to leap on one leg. The savvy veteran tries to strike with his other leg, but Lenton catches that one too, leaving Jonathan lying supinely on the canvas. The Big L looks out to the crowd now, trying to feet off their energy as they’re enjoying the back and forth comedic contest. The tag champion then looks at Collins, who has a look of “don’t you dare” in his eyes. Lenton doesn’t heed the warning, and lifts Jon off the canvas with his legs before swinging him around. Dick Morosi: GIANT SWING! After about 15 seconds, Lenton releases him, launching him right onto the canvas. As Jonathan slowly tries to pull himself up to his feet, Steve stalks him in the adjacent corner, looking to be preparing himself for the 3:00, a move he’s used to put people down in the past. When Collins comes to and begins to turn around, Lenton goes on the move, looking to pounce his boss. Just when he in tackling range, Jon puts a hand up, stopping The Big L in his tracks. Jonathan Collins: Woah… woah… woah… Steve, buddy! The Big L puts his hands on his hips, frowning somewhat as he had built up a head of steam, only to be cut off. Jonathan Collins: My back! Think about my daughter. THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN! Steve looks visibly apologetic now, only Collins was just playing possum. He charges right at Lenton who goes for a Clothesline. Jon ducks, strafes behind The Big L, then jumps onto his back and applies a Sleeperhold. Luckily for the The Big L he has a corner he can go into to break the submission - only it’s the wrong corner. Just as he presses Jon’s back into the turnbuckle padding, Lexy drops down from the apron and out of the vantage point of the referee before reaching into the ring in the direction of the Virginian’s feet. The International Champion unties Steve’s shoe laces, then ties them on the other, making sure he won’t be going mobile any time soon. Dick Morosi: Little Lexy is up to no good, Seth, and I’m loving every bit of it. Seth Ericson: I’m not. I came to see wrestling, not a sideshow. Dick Morosi: Hey, I’m not complaining. It’s nice to be able to enjoy ourselves considering all the bad things that are happening. Jonathan drops down from The Big L’s shoulders, whilst Lexy tags herself back into the match. Unbeknownst to the Steve Lenton, he’s at a disadvantage - and he finds this out rather quickly as he tries to step forward, only to fall flat on his face. Lenton, in confusion, climbs up to his feet, then stares at Chapel with a defeated look. Taking advantage of the tag out interval, Jon and Lexy push Steve into the ropes, then try to Irish Whip him across the ring. He merely hops from spot to spot, unable to break free from his imprisonment. He turns around now, only to catch stereos Dropkicks to the chest, sending him down to the canvas. The Big L rolls back into his corner to immediately tag out and untie his shoes. Wulf gets into the ring, and Lenton follows right behind him, and the march right up to Lexy and Collins. Seth Ericson: Looks like playtime is over. It’s about damn time. Dick Morosi: You’re such a buzzkill Seth. The quartet meet in the ring for some banter which starts to lead to some shoving, but before the friends and allies start to get truly hostile, the crowd is stunned at the arrival of two masked men, who seem to be dashing in from through the crowd! Dick Morosi: The hell? Seth Ericson: Who are these masked men? Are these guys goons from Frontier? Dick Morosi: Are they here to make a statement to Trouble? The masked men look to slide into the ring, and the four people start to work together, looking to consolidate and begin to attack the invaders, the leaving them outside of the ring relatively quickly. All four people stand together, being given their respective titles. Though nobody knows why these men have attacked, the four dare them to try them, with the crowd cheering. WINNER: NO CONTESTDick Morosi: I don't think it matters why they're here, but those four look ready for a fight. Seth Ericson: That's EXODUS Pro for you! Anytime, anyplace! Dick Morosi: While those four regroup, let's head backstage! Switching gears, the scene changes from the ending of the match out in the arena to the backstage area, where even more activity takes place. It is here in one stretch of hallway where ace interviewer Tom Matheny stands ready to grab a few words with whatever wrestler happens to walk by. As luck would have it, the reigning San Diego Bay Champion Savannah Taylor is walking down the hall towards him. As she nears him, he clears his throat and calls out to the blonde. Tom Matheny: Savannah, may I have a word with you? She stops her walking and turns towards Tom. Savannah Taylor: What do you want? Tom Matheny: I was hoping to get your reaction as to what transpired between you and Tiffani Sterns earlier in the evening. An amused grin forms on Savannah’s face as she goes to speak. However she doesn’t get the chance to voice her reply as she is suddenly struck from behind. As she stumbles forward, falling to the ground, her attacker stands behind her. Clad in a pair of black Doc Martins, a pair of dark blue semi-fitted jeans and an oversized black ‘Sons of Anarchy’ hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled all the way down so as to obstruct a clear view of the face, it is clear that the attacker is a female. Savannah had dropped the title belt to the floor as she was struck from behind by the slender woman. As Savannah works to gather herself together, she works her way to her knees, her attacker still standing behind her. The moment of peace does not last long for the Las Vegas native as the woman behind her suddenly runs forward, driving her knee into the back of Savannah’s skull. Upon seeing Savannah now completely laid out on the ground, the woman looks like she is about to take the San Diego Bay title and ram it into her skull, but stops when she sees a couple of security guards coming forward. Thinking twice, the woman just points down at the fallen champion before scurrying off in the opposite direction. The guards reach Savannah and begin to attend to her as the scene fades out to a commercial break. |
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Post by EXODUS Office on Apr 28, 2014 13:18:18 GMT -6
The feed cuts backstage to show Tom Matheny standing next to the EXODUS World Champion, Andreas Lasiewicz. The Morning Star is going through his pre match prerequisites, his eyes shining with confidence and a cold focus as he prepares for his title defense in the Main Event which is a just a few moments away. Tom Matheny: Ladies and gentleman, here I am with the EXODUS World Champion, Andreas Lasiewicz who’s about to defend his belt against Johnny Cannon in tonight’s Main Event. The Morning Star takes a deep breath, continuing to mentally prepare himself for what awaits. He’s got a date with the aforementioned, Mr. EXODUS, a guy that will no likely test his limits, and get him prepared for a date with Kira T. Zeppeli in the not too distant future, should he be victorious. Tom Matheny: There’s certainly no west for the wicked, Las. Between dealing with Gods & Monsters you’ve been thrust into a contest against Johnny Cannon, with your belt on the line. He’s been looking for an opportunity like this for a while, and has made no secret about his feelings about you. Do you have any thoughts? Lasiewicz takes a deep breath, grabbing the microphone from Matheny. Andreas Lasiewicz: I got one thing to say to Mr. Cannon- A loud crash sounds from out of range. Lasiewicz turns as his head is hit by a stiff elbow. Startled and concerned for his own safety, Matheny backs up against the wall. Andreas falls to the ground, and the camera frantically pans up to reveal the assailant. It’s the former World Champion, Christum Furor who stands over the man that defeated and thwarted his New Age. The madman pulls Andreas up by his hair, and Lasiewicz connects with a pair of jabs to the sociopath’s gut, yet only gets decked with a right hand in response. Christum Furor: Did you really it was that easy, Andreas? Furor whips Andreas into the catering table, Las receiving a gut-check from the edge. Christum grabs him by the head and viciously slams him on the said piece of furniture, lifts up, then slams again. The Morning Star tries to fight back, retaliating by giving Furor a taste of his own medicine. However, the nihilist will not be bested, as he reaches out to pick up a tray of desserts before beaning Lasiewicz with the pan. Christum Furor: How could you be so shortsighted… so caught up in your own ego and illusions that you could possibly think that I’d let you and everything you believe in continue to exist? Andreas staggers away from the table and his rival, stumbling towards the end of the line of catering tables. He lurches down the end of the line, getting his hands on a trash can whilst doing so. He dumps the contents on the floor, wheel around, and connects just in time to Furor’s solarplexus. Christum doubles over, and the champion launches can across his back, sending the former holder of his belt to his knees. In desperation, the leader of G&M low-blows Las, forcing him to drop the can and retreat back a couple feet. Now with the can, Furor lands a thunderous shot across Lasiewicz’s head. Las stammers, rubbed and jelly-legged, as Christum places the can upside-down over the Polishian’s upper body. He then proceeds to stomp on his calfs, reducing The Morning Star to his knees. Furor walks back roughly ten feet, then charges forward with a Yakuza-like kick to the can, possibly concussing Andreas’ skull, sending him to ground in a heap on the cold concrete floor. Smiling, panting, relishing in it all, Furor begins to walk out of the frame, having succeeded in doing what he set out to accomplish.. Tom Matheny: Folks we need medical attention… someone get out here… Las is hurt, he’s hurt bad! or so we thought. Furor walks back into the frame, holding a steel chair. He grabs the folded chairs legs, and lifts it over head, before slamming the chair down into Las’s abdominal region again… and again… and again, with all the might he can muster. The champion twitches and convulses, groaning in pain as Furor sneers down at him. Christum Furor: No. You didn’t destroy the New Age, you merely circumvented the inevitable for a moment. But that sense of security is fleeting, and here I am to remind you of something - to remind you that I have an insurance policy. I didn’t pay for it, I didn’t buy it…. I earned it, Las. That’s right, I earned something in this terrible world, and for that I am simply the king without his crown, however that’s puts me in a win-win situation. Furor kneels down now, scanning Las’ wounded carcass. Christum Furor: Because if you win tonight, then you’ll get the opportunity to die by my hand… but I won’t make it quick no… I’ll keep you breathing long enough for you to see HER… and when SHE comes, regardless if it’s you or Cannon, you’ll see that Gods & Monsters cannot be defeated that your world and everything you hold dear is nearing extinction. With that Furor pats Andreas on the shoulder, before marching out of the shot and we go back to Dick & Seth. Dick Morosi: This...this is horrible. Christum Furor is a monster! Seth Ericson: That's how he operates! Whether we like it or not, the former champion just put our current champion on notice! Dick Morosi: And now he's got to defend that belt against Johnny Cannon, next! WORLD TITLE MATCH
ANDREAS LASIEWICZ (EXODUS Pro World Champion) vs. JOHNNY CANNONDavid Zinkus: Ladies and Gentleman, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the EXODUS World Championship. Suddenly, the entrance tunnel is fixed with a bright yellow spotlight, while the arena lights dim down as the blaring chords of "Supernaut" by Black Sabbath slam into its rhythmic bellow throughout the depths of the arena, inciting an instant and vociferous reaction from the EXODUS faithful. The tron screen comes to life playing the Brit's entrance video, a collection of fantastic performances accumulated over his experiences. As soon as Cannon's silhouette becomes visible in the entrance tunnel David Zinkus begins the formal introduction. David Zinkus: Introducing the challenger. "I want to reach out and touch the sky
I want to touch the sun but I don't need to fly
I'm gonna climb up every mountain of the moon
Find the dish that ran away with the spoon" On demand, energetically bursting through the entrance tunnel is none other than Johnny Cannon. The EXPRO Original, the greatest showman in professional wrestling stops and poses on the entrance stage to soak in the adulation. Wearing his MMA style tights in yellow and purple and his #MrEXODUS track jacket in black, both with numerous insignias and designs sewn over them in purple, Johnny stares out at the excited audience through a pair of white SUPER sunglasses. The Brit surveys the capacity crowd, Johnny can't help but grin from ear to ear before running up and down the entrance stage, playing up to the audience. David Zinkus: Accompanied by Quinn Goodrich he weighs in tonight at two hundred and forty pounds, and hails from London, England. He is MR. EXODUS... JOHNNYYYY CANNON!!!! With Goodrich walking ahead Cannon begins sauntering down the entrance ramp, slapping the hands of excited fans that shove their arms out in his direction. Coming down the middle of the ramp, he slows his pace to a stop, posing on location. He playfully points out a finger gun gesture at the crowd, playing up to the patrons before removing his two hundred dollar sunglasses and handing them to one lucky kid in the front row. "I've crossed the ocean, turned every bend
I found the plastic at the gold at rainbow's end
I've been through magic and through life's reality
I've lived a thousand years and it never bothered me" He quickly runs up the ring steps before slipping into the ring with relative ease. Continuing with his momentum, Johnny spins to the middle of the ring before coming to a stop right in front of the camera. Cannon points at the camera, mouthing "Daddy's Home" to the audience at home as he slides out of his jacket with suaveness before handing his entrance gear to the referee, who then hands it to Goodrich on the outside. "Got no religion, don't need no friends
Got all I want and I don't need to pretend
Don't try to reach me, 'cause I'd tear up your mind
I've seen the future and I've left it behind" From there, Johnny slowly backs into the ropes, hooking his arms back on them before bouncing several times, apparently limbering up while Goodrich looks on from ringside; with his theme fading out, #MrEXODUS gets himself focused to hopefully put on another one of his classic performances. Dick Morosi: This is his chance to come full circle. Johnny Cannon has been a member of the EXODUS roster since day one, and now he’s finally getting his one on one opportunity to compete for the EXODUS World Championship. Will “Mr. EXODUS” have his destiny fulfilled tonight, Seth? Seth Ericson: I don’t know. I’m never good at predicting these things. But let’s not kid ourselves, Lasiewicz will NOT be one hundred percent, thanks in part to Christum Furor. That gives Cannon an advantage, hell a puncher’s chance. The guys beat him before, but Johnny Cannon has done the impossible over and over again… I DON’T KNOW! The crowd gasp in awe as they hear a loud shriek over the P.A system as the lights begin to dim. The big screen springs to life, showing the image of silvery white feathers falling to a backdrop of intense flame. The show footage focuses on the screen, a figure of a mighty bird of prey clawing out with vicious, razor sharp talons, unaffected by the inferno. It’s eyes glow a fearful and bright gold, turning to crimson red as it seemingly flies out from the screen making the crowd gasp in awe. Then there is nothing. Nothing but darkness and silence. David Zinkus: And his opponent... The silence is broken, as a faint yet beautiful piano piece begins to play out in the background. The audience leaps to their feet, almost drowning out the sound of music as several spotlights circle around the arena as the crowd looks around in awe. Swirling violins begin to play out a haunting rhythm as a thick cloud of intoxicating smoke emits from the entrance way. Barbarian Horns fire up along with a thunderous dub step beat and distorted guitars as the Instrumental Core Remix of Hans Zimmer’s ‘Time’ fully kicks in. A hooded silhouette appears in the thick grey smog; his head is bowed as he methodically makes his way to the ring. The figure pauses for a moment, staring out into the audience. The shrouded figure of Andreas Lasiewicz steps out from the back, seemingly smoking a cigarette; his head lolled to one side as he surveys the crowd with a police baton resting on his shoulder. Around his waist is a glistening golden belt, the plate shaped like an ‘X’ with the words ‘EXODUS Pro World Heavyweight Champion’ upon it. Over his right shoulder is another belt, a much bulkier prize, but no less grand that has ‘GCW World Champion’ upon it. He pauses then points his baton towards the ring as he slowly paces there. David Zinkus: From Krakow, Poland, weighing in at two hundred and forty-seven pounds… he is the EXODUS WORLD CHAMPION…. Andreas! Lasiewicz! As he reaches the ring, he stops to stare out in to the crowd, he flips back his hood and lets out a short, cruel laugh as he rolls into the ring and removes his jacket, pausing with a mocking crucifix pose that would infuriate a certain competitor. He climbs one of the turnbuckles, searching out into the crowd with a Cheshire Cat grin across his face, lifting his hard earned prizes in the air for all to see. He hops down as he spinsthe baton around in his left hand for a moment before resting back against the turnbuckle, staring up into the heavens as if he is looking for answers. Dick Morosi: Lasiewicz has got to be hurting. You couldn’t tell by his demeanor, but I know he’s hiding a lot of injuries. I’m still shocked he’s willing to go through with this match. Seth Ericson: He’s a tough man’s toughman. Love him, or hate him, you’ve gotta respect him. This is the definition of a fighting champion, and whether he’s half a man he’s going to give Johnny Cannon the fight of his life. Brian Lowery keeps the suspense of the match up, reviewing the rules with both participants, the crowd in a quiet hush as they wait for the sound of the bell; though they are concerned that The Morning Star would go on with the match despite beating assaulted beforehand, they respect him ever more for his resilience. The look in Lasiewicz’s eyes tells the whole story; it’s one of a man in anguish and agony, yet all of that is mixed in with his desire not to quit, and a determination to go down swinging - if he’s going down at all. The senior official finally moves to the center of the ring and points to the timekeeper, who rings the bell to start what is expected to be a PPV quality match between two of the best wrestlers in not just EXODUS, but the entire world. Johnny Cannon, the challenger, looks out into the capacity crowd for a moment, doing his best to hide his jitters; as much as we wants to deny it, he is the underdog regardless of Las’ physical condition, and with this being his first World Title match there’s little that he can do to suppress the menagerie of emotions building up in his head. Still, the best remedy for this sort of anxiety is to just get on with it - and he does. Dick Morosi: This may be one of the biggest rematches in EXODUS History, Seth. It’s a shame that it’s been soured by that heinous assault by Christum Furor. Seth Ericson: But look at Las, he’s not one to make excuses. He’s focused. He could have refused to compete tonight, but he didn’t. This isn’t just about defending the World Title, it’s about proving to Gods & Monsters that he won’t let them get the best of him. Dick Morosi: Courages, he’s simply courageous, Seth. He may not think himself as one, but he certainly is a hero, especially to these people. Seth Ericson: A hero that Johnny Cannon wants to kill, right now. Cannon and Lasiewicz circle the ring for a few seconds and by mutual thought, both competitors lurch forward into a tie-up. Andreas, being built a bit wider, is able to use his strength advantage to gain control of the tie-up, and he slowly pushes Mr. EXODUS into the corner. Following a count of four from Brian Lowery, Andreas retreats into the middle of the ring, never taking his eyes off his adversary, who takes a few deep breaths and remains visibly flustered. Upon dusting himself down and stepping into the middle of the ring, Johnny influences a second collar and elbow tie up, only to get the same result in the push. This time however, before he can be shoved back into the turnbuckles he is able to counter, deftly maneuvering so that he ends up in the prime offensive position, and is able to capitalize by doing the very thing The Morning Star was attempting to do to him. Though instead of holding him at bay, Cannon opps to let go of the champion, and as an alternative he charges forward with a well-placed knee to the abdomen, doubling the Krakow native over yet making sure to keep him pinned upright on the turnbuckle. Lasiewicz grimaces in pain, and it’s clear that this particular region of his anatomy, the one that was keyed in on during Furor’s assault, will be a cause for concern and more importantly, a bullseye that the former two time International Champion will exploit. Beginning to gain his confidence, Cannon looks down at the weakened World Champion forces The Morning Star back upright, still wedged between two hundred forty pounds of fighting spirit and the cold pads of the turnbuckle, and Cannon drives another knee right into the champion’s ribcage. Continuing to exert his dominance, the Brit pulls Lasiewicz out of the corner and immediately goes for an Irish Whip. Andreas is launched across the squared circle, and ricocheted off the trio of cables. Deceptively agile for his advanced age, the World Champion ducks under Cannon’s attempt at a Lariat and hits the ropes for a second consecutive time. Once again, Las is able to avoid being guillotined by the challenger’s arm as he thwarts another Clothesline attempt - however his third return trip ends up with a shift in the current paradigm. Mr. EXODUS spins around with a raised knee, maliciously driving it into Lasiewicz’s solarplexus, sending him somersaulting forward onto the mat, back-first. The EXPRO original immediately slides onto the veteran and puts and elbow over Las’ head, wedging the Polishian’s shoulders down as hard as he can to increase his foe’s distress and discomfort. Dick Morosi: Cannon seems to have gotten his wits about him. It looked like he was getting lost in the moment earlier, but now he’s in control of things - thanks in part to a brutal knee to the gut. Seth Ericson: Andreas is wrestling with a literal hole in his stomach. Though courageous and valiant of him, the champion has given his opponent a foolproof game plan, and you can’t do something like that to a guy the caliber of Johnny Cannon. ”ONE!”Everyone in the arena expected a kick out, and Andreas Lasiewicz obliges, realizing he won’t be able to roll a shoulder over in his current predicament so he opted to kick out instead. Cannon goes straight back on the attack, quickly grappling the Polish native by the head, pulling him to a vertical base with a cravat. From there Johnny unleashes a series of knee strikes to the stomach in rapid, forceful succession, continuing his assault on his foe’s battered midriff. From there he drags him toward the ropes before trapping Las in a front facelock; upon throwing his arm over his shoulder, Cannon lifts him up into the air for what appears to a vertical suplex. However, Mr. EXODUS flourishes his ring acumen and technical genius, as he tosses The Morning Star down onto the top cable, and with Andreas’ abdomen taking the brunt of the force and his weight pressing down on the ropes the pressure is used against him. With a yelp of agony Lasiewicz falls forward, landing supinely on the canvas with a slight thud. Cannon steps away and turns his attention to the teaming masses packing the RIMAC arena, a cocksure grin beginning to manifest on his British mug as his confidence increases with every passing second. The third place finalist in the Brightest Day Cibernetico nods to himself repeatedly, whilst muttering words in secrecy, likely just a personal pep talk to further intensify his current feeling of self assurance. Meanwhile, the Champion was stirring, rolling onto his front in an effort to try and push himself up to a vertical base. The look of poise mixed with a touch of arrogance widens on the Brit’s face as Johnny charges forward to put an end to The Morning Star’s recuperation. Mr. EXODUS plants a stiff boot into Las’ ribs for his troubles, sending his opponent rolling onto his back from the impact, his face contorted into a bitter grimace. However, the ring veteran has the sense of mind to continue rolling out of the ring, knowing recouping instead of trying to withstand this open match flurry is the better part of valor. He lands on the cold floor in sweaty, pain filled heap, with the ring ropes the only thing keeping him at a safe distance from the rampant challenger. Standing tentatively triumphant, Cannon opts to play to the crowd, outstretching in the Atlas pose which garners a less enthusiastic response from the EXODUS faithful than he had hoped. Seth Ericson: And there he goes Dick, “Mr. EXODUS” is starting to feel himself. He had to get his feet into the water to test it out, but now he’s one hundred percent sure of himself. He’s owning this moment, and he’s owning the champion. Dick Morosi: Most people would argue that Cannon should have stayed on Lasiewicz. Instead, he’s posing and making a spectacle of himself. We’ve been seeing a little bit more of that sort of behavior from him more and more since his return, and you can tell by the crowd reaction that they’re a little bit on the fence. Seth Ericson: I don’t know, if this was my first World Title match and everything was going how I wanted it to, I’d probably be showing off a little too. Can’t hate the guy for that. Dick Morosi: No, but you’d probably want to show a little more respect to your opponent, and a man who shouldn’t be counted out, Seth. As Andreas struggles to his feet, Cannon steps through the ropes and onto the apron, awaiting the World Champion’s attention. When Lasiewicz does look up, Johnny clasps his hands together; jumping off the apron looking to slam his fists into the crown of the Polish Spirit, the former two time International Champion only receives a stiff forearm underneath his chin. Las connects with a brutal European Uppercut that ignites the crowd, though leaves both men lying on the floor. Looking to take the reins so to speak, Andreas mounts his adversary and begins to pound the Brit’s skull with forearm and elbow after forearm and elbow. After a quick combination of strikes, Lasiewicz climbs to his feet, and before Cannon even has a chance to recover he slams a boot into the Englishman’s ribs. The Morning Star finally gives way, allowing Johnny to clamber to his feet with help of the nearby announce table. Andreas notices this, and grabs the back of Cannon’s head before slamming it into the desk, rattling the monitors, papers, and everyone in the vicinity - especially Seth and Dick. Not content with just the one, Las forces the challenger into the wood once again, only this time hard enough to make the Brit rebound and fall onto the side of the nearby barricade. The Briton’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he tries to shake off the painfully throbbing migraine, while the champion soaks in the approval of the San Diegans who have been given new life. Unfortunately, Andreas took his eye off the ball for too long, something he rarely does, and something you can’t do when you’re fighting someone like Johnny Cannon. He had given the challenger a much needed chance to regain his bearings once more. When he turns around after heeding the warnings of the fans, the Briton slaps Las with both hands on either side of his head, producing an effect similar to that of a flashbang in the battlefield. Nonetheless, Andreas is stunned long enough for Cannon to take advantage of his window of opportunity; Mr. EXODUS quickly grabs the Polishian by the arm before whipping him into the steel post holding up the ring, which The Morning Star bounces off head first before falling to the ground. Dick Morosi: Good Lord that impact was unsettling. There’s no give in that post, Seth. That violent collision will definitely leave the champion in a bad way. Seth Ericson: And now Andreas will have to “check his brain” to make sure it’s still in his skull. That was a great sequence there from the challenger, knowing he had to stop Las’ momentum and quiet the champion’s section of fans before The Morning Star could really get going. By now Cannon had already rolled Lasiewicz back inside the ring before climbing in himself. As The Morning Star cradles his head in pain, Johnny proceeds to stomp him in the chest forcing the Polishian to sit up in shock. Mr. EXODUS then runs to the ropes, rebounds, then lifts up his boot before planting it right into the champion’s face. Andreas is laid is laid out spread eagle from vile kick, while the Briton smiles and raises his arms in appeal for a crowd reaction, only to once again receive a less than flattering response. There’s a growing number of detractors in the crowd, yet the mixed reaction does little to deter the man who is two thirds the way of completing the EXODUS Triple Crown from placing a foot onto the fallen Krakow native’s stomach in what is a very unsportsmanlike pinfall attempt - one Brian Lowery acknowledges much to his own chagrin. ”ONE!”
“TWO!”The lax cover makes it easy for The Morning Star to raise a shoulder up. Lowery immediately rebukes Cannon for his condescending gesture, which the Englishman flags off playfully as if he was just messing around before apologizing, though whether this expression of contrition was sincere or not is debatable. Las rolls away from Cannon to earn himself some valuable separation whilst the Briton continues to debate with the referee about his adherence to the rules and regulations. Andreas crawls towards the nearest ropes and grabs the bottom cable, dragging his wounded carcass as he does so, a brief interlude in the match occurring as the champion tries his best to overcome his ailments. The argument with Lowery finally ceases, and Cannon soon returns to the task in hand, Mr. EXODUS striding purposefully over to The Morning Star. However, with a hold of the bottom rope, Andreas proceeds to pull himself wakwardly to his full verticality, showing the sort of resiliency that’s made him a multi time World Champion spanning across numerous promotions. Seeing his physical and mental advantage slowly dissipate, Cannon charges straight at him, lunging forward hoping to Clothesline Andreas over the top rope, but, showing his veteran instincts and savvy, Las drops to the canvas and pulls the top rope down him him, momentum playing Cannon for a fool, the Brit sent tumbling over the top wire and to the floor below as a result. Dick Morosi: An act of recklessness on the part of the challenger, and that could be the opening Andreas needs. Seth Ericson: It very could be, but let’s not forget how much punishment Andreas has already endured. The question now, how much does he have left? Seth Ericson: That’s a very good point, Seth. But remember who we’re talking about. Lasiewicz knows all the tricks, and knows how to win matches like these. He’s done it so many times in the past. That’s why he’s a living legend in this business, and that’s why this match isn’t over just yet. The rush of adrenaline finally begins to show itself for The Morning Star, and he unsteadily pushes himself up from the canvas. Watching Cannon struggle to get up for a moment, he realizes what the next move have to be, regardless of the risk. Rushing to the far ropes, he leaps like a man shot out of a cannon, clearing the set of ropes before him. Johnny can only watch as Lasiewicz flies toward him, and the fans get on their feet in response to the perfect suicide plancha. Both men lie motionless for a moment Andreas unable to follow up or do anything for that matter. The only thing he can do is breathe. Lying next to his foe, they both stare up at the well lit ceiling, slowly panting amidst the endless camera flashes and the screams and cheers of the crowd - that is until Andreas kips up to his feet to a roar of approval from the EXODUS lifeblood. Cannon writhes about in agony now, feeling the pressure of being on the defensive end for the what feels like the first time in the match. Lasiewicz wastes no time in grabbing the Briton by the scruff of his neck as Johnny is doubled over, the champion throwing the challenger into the barricade back-first, to another loud chorus of cheers from the lively audience. Now wanting to relent his attack, Las walks over to the propped up showman and throws right hands right into the Brit’s face, the two time International Champion unable to cover up, swallowing a number of knuckle sandwiches before the Polishian ceases his violent onslaught. Andreas looks around once more, acknowledging the support of the fans before grabbing cannon by the arm and launching him into the set of steel ring steps with an almighty clatter. The resulting impact causes the Briton to end up on the other side of the aforementioned piece of furniture after somersaulting over them, rolling around on the lightly padded floor, pure agony etched on his face while Lasiewicz thinks of a way to maximize his foe’s newfound discomfort. Going over his plan in his mind, the Polishian marches over to the steel steps. Grabbing a hold of Cannon’s injured leg, he props said limp onto the metallic structure. With Mr. EXODUS almost unconscious due to the pain in his knee, Johnny is powerless to resist as Lasiewicz stomps down onto his his kneecap, compressing the bone between his foot and the ring step, a blood-curdling scream emitting from the swaggering showman in response. Andreas doesn’t stop there, as he stomps down on the knee again - and again - again before finally relenting. Seth Ericson: Cannon’s leg could be broken after that. This is a side that Andreas has displayed since he vowed to be the one to stop the New Age. A very mean streak. Dick Morosi: And he’s targeting Johnny’s surgically repaired knee, and that takes aware Cannon’s patented Roundhouse Kick. That’s what sets the champion apart from the pack, his intelligence and veteran awareness. He’s taking away the challenger’s best weapon. Seth Ericson: And doing it in a rather sadistic fashion. Dick Morosi: Earlier you wondered whether Lasiewicz could hope to win this match, but not the roles have reversed. “Mr. EXODUS” is now the one on the wrong side of the spectrum. Andreas steps back a few feet as Cannon’s leg falls, the Briton never having felt pain like this in his career. Thinking he might have done enough to keep the Englishman down, The Morning Star is quick to pick up the wounded Brit and slide him into the squared circle, following with greater speed than Mr. EXODUS can even comprehend with his injured leg. The Polish Assassin stalks his weakened foe as the challenger tries to ease the pain shooting through his bones and muscles, before Cannon painstakingly clambers to his knees and ascends to a vertical base. Seeing his opportunity to deliver more punishment, Las maneuvers behind the groggy brit before capturing his shin with his right hand. He wraps a free arm around Cannon’s torso whilst bending the right leg and hoisting his adversary into the air. The Morning Star descends to his left knee, coercing Cannon’s shin into his raised right knee, showing that has no intentions of deviating from his earlier assault on the Brit’s impaired lower appendage. Still holding his opponent following the textbook Shinbreaker, he places Johnny’s near arm over his shoulder, then lifts him back into the air before falling backwards, slamming the Briton into the canvas with a Saito Suplex which holds on for the pin. ”ONE!”
“TWO!” Las’ pinfall comes nail-bitingly close to ensuring a successful first title defense, but Cannon is able to escape at the last second, kicking out much to the Polishian’s chagrin. The challenger crawl toward the nearest corner, his hand gingerly caressing his injured leg in hopes to alleviate the trauma, meanwhile Andreas returns to a stand. Cannon begins to pull himself up in the corner, prompting Andreas to charge in with intent on completely dismantling him. Johnny senses the forthcoming threat, and despite seemingly standing on one leg, has the necessary wits to dodge the attack. The lunging champion is unable to bring his momentum to a halt, and consequently crashes sternum first into the turnbuckles. The Krakowian feels a rush of pain in his chest, feeling like he just had the wind knocked out of him as he backpedals from the corner. Cannon hastily advances behind him, quickly grabbing his foe’s right wrist and elbow before bending it back into a standard hammerlock. Affected by the slight paralysis in his arm, the champion leans forward, tentatively increasing the numbness in the joint, before pivoting his body slightly toward Cannon; he liberates his arm, then instantly counters with a waistlock, looking to bring the Brit down with a German Suplex. The catch as catch can wrestling master has other plans however, as the former cagefighter turned actor turned British ring technician slips one hand down into the hold and effectively severs Las’ grip before connecting with a back elbow to give himself some breathing room. Following his counter, he turns around, lifting his in the direction of the champ’s midsection, yet his foot falls short of the Polishian’s breadbasket as Las catches it with cupped hands. Andreas immediately sweeps Cannon off his feet, before draping the captured leg over his neck, pulling down on the Johnny’s foot to place pressure on his foe’s already injured knee. Dick Morosi: Stretch Muffler! These two traded counters with the champion getting the better of that exchange. Seth Ericson: Andreas is bending that leg for dear life. He might snap it in half. Dick Morosi: Cannon has been put in a compromising predicament. His championship dreams hang in the balance, resting on his ability to either get to the ropes or find a way to escape this hold. He’ll have to act quickly, as there’s no doubt that banged up knee can barely withstand much more. Andreas Lasiewicz continues to apply the pressure, offering a primeval warcry of effort, the agony caused by the grueling submission screaming from every fiber in the Briton’s body. Cannon’s hand flail wildly, as he desperately tries to claw his way to the ropes. The Morning Star will not allow him to do so, as he drags Johnny from the safety of the ropes, just as soon as Mr. EXODUS had gotten close enough to grab them. The Argentine Leglock remains locked in, as Andreas tries to force the submitory words from Cannon’s lips. The Brit crie out in pain, frustration and desperation as all his technical awareness is thrown out of the window, the challenger instead relying on another means to escape the submission hold. He plants his palms into the canvas, lifting up into a pushup position before turning on his back, forcing Las to remove his leg from around his head, allowing the Brit to respond with brute force as he fires a series of boots to the face with his free leg. Finally free from the hold, Johnny rolls back clutching his knee as he desperately attempts to alleviate the pain shooting through his vulnerable appendage. Andreas lies curled on his side, fingers brushing over his head as it assimilates the trauma it just sustained. Finally, the champion creaks up onto one knee, trying his best to shake the cobwebs and refocus himself. Back on his feet now, Cannon marches toward Lasiewicz, albeit with a visible limp. He quickly seizes Las’ arm, proceeding to twist it, applying pressure to the Triple Crown winner’s shoulder and elbow. Andreas winces in agony, the exchange of submissions continuing as the challenger detains him with an armbar. With absolutely no intention such a profound level of discomfort, Las regains a vertical base before turning inward to face his antagonist palliating the pressure being applied by the maneuver. He then unleashes a quick kick that impinges the challenger’s already shaky foundation. Johnny’s weakened knee buckles, compelling his defenses to lower, thus allow Andreas to take advantage. With Cannon doubled over, Andreas seizes his right arm and in one fluid motion, steps over the captured limb and twists his body in mid-air, ending with both competitors landing supinely on the canvas with the Polishian jerking the Briton’s wrist upward and consequently hyperextending his shoulder and elbow. Seth Ericson: ARMBARS… I REPEAT… ARMBARS EVERYWHERE, DICK! Dick Morosi: Turnabout is fair play, Seth! Andreas might break that arm in two if Cannon doesn’t tap out. This is a brilliant strategy by the champion. He worked on the leg at the start, now he’s focusing on the arm. Cannon extends his free arm towards the ropes, but the cables are much too far away. The sweat trickled from his brow, the gears beginning to spin out of control in his head as he comes to the realization that he’ll have to concede to the pain if the situation isn’t dealt with. Tucking his free arm into his body, Johnny shifts his weight into one quick momentum swinging motion that left his body strength pressuring Lasiewicz’s submission, forcing the champion to relinquish the hold resulting in the Brit breaking loose. Taking residence in the corner of the ring now, Las lies in wait, readying himself for what could be a match ending shot. Johnny pulls up to a knee, with his right arm having gone dead, and left hanging limp and benumbed. Mr. EXODUS stumbles and falls in an attempt to reach his feet, but the moment comes eventually. Andreas, stands, before sprinting toward his battered foe. Cannon turns around, but his consciousness knew something terrible was afoot, forcing him to duck at the eleventh hour to avoid The Peacemaker, which if connected, would have certainly ensured a successful title retention for The Morning Star. Las’ speed causes him to run straight into the turnbuckle, killing all his momentum. The World Champion backtracks, clutching his chest, before turning around half-heartedly. Bad move. Immediately, Las’ head is smashed in by a raised boot, and everything in The Morning Star’s world fades to black. Cannon slumps to the ground too, clutching the injured leg that delivered the strike, the last bit of his adrenaline spent on that desperation Roundhouse Kick. Dick Morosi: ROUNDHOUSE! ROUNDHOUSE! Can Cannon score the biggest win of his career? Seth Ericson: I don’t think he can, Dick. He’s spent. He had to use his bad leg to do it. Both these guys look out of it. The crowd is at a fever pitch, realizing that Andreas Lasiewicz could be knocked out by the hands of a Johnny Cannon and many get to their feet, cheering, buzzing, and making any sound that they can - half the crowd trying to rally Mr. EXODUS to a winning pinfall, the other trying to wake the champion up from unconsciousness. Cannon tries to reach to the sky, but his hands falls back down the ground and Brian Lowery takes a look at both men, decided to start his count for a possible double knockout. ”ONE!”
“TWO!”
“THREE!”
“FOUR!”
“FIVE!”
“SIX!”Showing signs of life now, Canon starts to stir and raises his hand again in an attempt to pull himself up to a vertical base. Las crawls into the furthest corner from his opponent, who is still tending to his leg. Johnny finally on his feet, takes homage in the opposite corner from The Morning Star, who deliriously blows hair from in front of his face, clearly exhausted by the battle they’ve waged. Johnny looks out into the crowd, then at Lasiewicz, showing the champion that he had indeed arrived and was deserving of his respect. There’s a divided loyalty in the bleachers, one set of fans chanting “LET’S GO LASIEWICZ!” which is followed after with a shout of “LET’S GO CANNON!” from the Briton’s supporters in the crowd. Dick Morosi: The fans are torn here, Seth. Even they don’t know who to root for. The two battle-weary combatants approach each other once more, with the atmosphere in the RIMAC arena growing to near biblical proportions. Both superstars are glassy eyed, and wary as to who will make the first move, so the situation is made to look like a staredown. After what seems like an eternity, Cannon takes the initiative, stunning Las with a European Uppercut. The Morning Star quickly follows suit, responding with a STIFF European Uppercut of his own, Johnny equally as dazed into a temporary vegetative state. Las takes advantage, slinging the challenger to the ropes. Cannon bounces back, and is met by Lasiewicz, who doubles over to vault him into the air. The Brit lands on the small of his back with a thud. Mr. EXODUS balls up his fist, as well as his face, the pain seemingly unbearable. But being the fighter that he is, he gets up immediately, only to be confronted by an outstretched arm; an obvious attempt of a Clothesline by the champion. Cannon bobs the underneath the arm, avoiding the impact by mere millimeters. Las is shocked by Cannon’s sudden burst of energy in spite of his injuries, and turns right into a series of vicious slaps to the face, followed by a STIFF elbow strike, and even STIFFER forearm ending with a Running Single Leg Dropkick that takes the champ off his feet. With The Clockwork Orange completed, the challenger quickly goes for a lateral press. Dick Morosi: He got it! The Clockwork Orange! What a combination of strikes! And the cover! ”ONE!”
“TWO!”Before Lowery’s hand can hit the ground for a third time Las is able to power out of the pinfall attempt. Both men get to their feet, but Cannon already sets off at a run, looking to connect with a Lariat. This time, Las is too quick for Johnny, and he weaves around the attack before running towards the ropes himself. Both men rebound off the opposite cables at the same time, but Andreas is the quickest out of the blocks, leaping into the air gracefully. His raised knee smashes into the Briton’s mug, as the sound of bone crunching against a sweaty face echoes throughout the spectrum, ending with both men falling to the ground in a mess of battered bodies. On instinct alone, Lasiewicz rolls over and goes for the cover. ”ONE!”
“TWO!”Cannon convulses his whole body once to halt the pin, Las rolling off of him in frustration. There’s a brief pause in the action now with the only movement coming from the heaving chests of the two gladiators in the ring, whilst the fans lap everything single thing up - they know they’re witnessing a classic. Seth Ericson: He kicked out! Las hit The Peacemaker, but Mr. EXODUS refuses to die. These two, they keep going. What wind is this, Dick? Dick Morosi: I can’t tell you myself. I don’t know what’s keeping either man in this thing. If I were to guess it’d be their respective fighting spirits. These are two of the most competitive men in our sport. They want to be regarded as the greatest, and they’re putting on a performance worthy of that type of praise. Cannon and Las get to their feet simultaneously and turn toward each other. The Briton connects with a THUNDEROUS European Uppercut. Las stumbles back but immediately charges forward and answers with a boot to the head. Another Uppercut. Another Big Boot. A third Uppercu and now a fourth which sends Andreas staggering into the corner in a dazed stupor, leaving him open to further abuse. Cannon pummels the Polishian with more and more European Uppercuts, then with rapid fire shots to the ribs and stomach, leaving his adversary immobile. In control, Johnny grabs a hold of Andreas’ arm, sling-shotting him into the opposite set of ropes. Las comes running back, but he ducks his head under the Englishman’s outstretched arm. Surprised, Cannon shakes his head and turns around, but fails to react to Andreas’ counter attack. The Morning Star connects with a Polish Hammer, knocking Cannon to the mat with authority. The champion wastes no time in vying for a pinfall, flopping on his adversary's limp form. ”ONE!”
“TWO!”Dick Morosi: Kickout! I thought the fat lady was singing. Seth Ericson: Nope just warming up her throat. Whoever the song is for, that remains to be seen! Just as the commentators exclaimed, Cannon manages to kick out at the count of about two-and-nine-tenths. The crowd gasps, wondering how both men keeping finding it within themselves to fight on. Las turns his head and spits to the side, where a wad of saliva and blood land on the already damp canvas. The champion returns his focus to his adversary, grabbing Johnny by the head before lifting him to a vertical base. Las lays into the groggy Briton with a series of rights and lefts that land without a reply. The impact causes Mr. EXODUS to stagger backwards, not stopping until he reaches the turnbuckle. Andreas doesn’t relent on the punches though, as he continues to rain down blow after blow on the skull of his foe. The World Champion finally retreats, backing to the turnbuckle opposite of Cannon, who seems out on his feet. Not taking any time to delay, Las charges toward his foe, with many in the bleachers thinking that if he connects with this maneuver it’s all she wrote. Johnny isn’t going for it though; he circumvents the attack, and just as Las impinges the turnbuckles does Cannon slip behind with a rearwaistlock - looking for the Chaos Theory German Suplex, Cannon pulls back, however the astute champion grabs the ropes on either side of him. Johnny rolls back empty handed due to the counter, his compromised leg preventing him from springing back to his feet. However, he fights back to a vertical base nonetheless, and does so in time to deliver a kick to the midsection. As Las doubles over the challenger mightily swings and bends his elbow, the outcropping of bone clashing into the Polishian’s cranium. His vision is immediately blurred as his braincase attempts to assimilate the situation, his knees buckling from the debilitating force behind the elbow strike. With the champion in dire straights, Cannon quickly applies a front facelock, hooking his foe’s near arm behind his neck. Upon grasping the rim of Lasiewicz’s tights, the challenger hoists The Morning Star into the air before dropping down to connect with his Lifting Single Arm DDT, spiking the champion into the canvas head first with a STIFF, benumbing force. Not giving away any time to savour the moment, Johnny rolls over as fast as he can before hooking the champ’s leg. Dick Morosi: CANNON DRIVER II! This is it, Seth! ”ONE!”
“TWO!-”Seth Ericson: He kicked out! This crowd is stunned. Cannon is stunned. WE’RE ALL STUNNED! Andreas Lasiewicz is made of adamantium. He’s unbreakable. Cannon rolls onto his back, his mouth agape in shock and horror that he can’t keep Andreas down. He simply stares at the bright lights on the ceiling of the RIMAC arena, welcoming them as if they were the lights of heaven coming to greet his weary body through the pearly white gates. A quick shake of the head, and the Londiniere is pulled back to reality. He rolls away from the supine Lasiewicz, wanting to get as much breathing room as possible. Cannon pushes himself to a vertical base and stumbles toward the ropes. With The Morning Star now stirring in the center of the ring, the British Mamba shakes his injured leg, loosening it up, knowing that the only thing that stands between him and the EXODUS World Championship at this point is one Roundhouse Kick to the one. Andreas pulls himself to his feet and leans on the rope for a second, Johnny stalking right behind him, and the instant the Polishian turns around, the challenger goes for it all. Cannon swings his leg and closes his eyes - NOTHING. Having scouted the move, having watched enough tape Lasiewicz ducks and is now crouched behind this foe, getting into a perfect squatted position and immediately lifts Cannon up onto his shoulders. Without a moment’s hesitation, Lasiewicz tosses him off his shoulders, putting his arm around the Briton’s head before falling and dragging Mr. EXODUS down with a Reverse DDT - the two men land on the canvas amidst an almost unanimous roar from the crowd. Dick Morosi: UNFORGETTABLE FIRE! HE IT IT! THE UNFORGETTABLE FIRE! ”ONE!”Seth Ericson: Un-frickin-believable! “TWO!”Mr. EXODUS convulses his shoulder and arms to cheers, able to break the count and more importantly preserve his championship aspirations. Lasiewicz rolls onto his stomach and balls fists, his eyes widen in sheer disbelief, unable to grasp how one man could withstand such punishment, let alone kick out of the very move that has sealed the fate of countless foes. His mind jumbles for a moment, then finally clears up, focusing on one goal. Filtering his thoughts, he gazes at Cannon’s lifeless frame, and more importantly, his injured leg. Back on his feet, Las scrambles toward Johnny’s lower extremities, quickly taking a hold of the Briton’s injured leg before viciously on every possible tendon he can destroy, not once or twice, but thrice, each stomp drawing a grunt and cry of agony from the tenacious challenger. With his plan beginning to come to fruition, Las grasps the same limb and hoists it into the air, before dropping his entire body weight on top of it, then again, and a third time, Cannon clawing the canvas in fear as his knee feels like it might rip from it’s socket. WIth the leg still in his possession, Las climbs to his feet and immediately does a Spinning Toe Hold before grasping the other leg, crossing the into a four to complete his strategy, a submission that has claimed a plethora of victims throughout The Morning Star’s illustrious career. Seth Ericson: FOUR CARD TRICK! Cannon could tap out here at any moment. He’s flailing like a flounder, like a caught fist, like… like- Dick Morosi: Like someone in danger of having his leg snapped in half! A flurry of fanfare comes from everyone in attendance, as Lasiewicz continues to crank the hold. Before the pain can become unbearable, Cannon leans up, driving a fist right into his assailant’s face. Andreas refuses to let go though, despite eating a second and a third right hand. Desperately, with everything he’s got, Johnny drags his body to the ropes, reaching out… YES! He’s able to get a hand on the bottom rope, much to Las’ chagrin and dismay. With Lowery calling for a break Andreas has no choice but to release the challenger. Still, he keeps a hold of Cannon’s legs, deciding he’ll just have drag him into the center of the ring and slap it back on. Knowing exactly what Las has in store for him, Cannon throws his free leg up to kick him in the face. The Polishian’s grip is loosened slightly, which encourages Johnny to throw another kick. The Heavyweight backs off, freeing Johnny and stumbling backward. As Las falls to one knee in a wave of disorientation, Cannon slowly creaks up, using the ring ropes to pull himself up to his feet, albeit struggling. Seth Ericson: This is it. They’re on their last legs. It’s do or die now, Dick! Dazed and bewildered, The Morning Star finally comes to a stand, and immediately sees a boot come swinging in his direction. He ducks, having just barely escaped being knocked out, and quickly pivots on his heel. As Johnny turns he goes for the Polish Hammer - NO. Cannon ducks, spins and goes for another Roundhouse but Lasiewicz dodges in, quickly moving behind his foe before trying to scoop Cannon onto his shoulders. Knowing what the Heavyweight’s intentions are, Johnny quickly uses the momentum of the lift to slip behind Andreas. Having has his equilibrium altered, Lasiewicz steadies his feet and turns around to investigate - he finds his answer in the form of Johnny Cannon swinging his leg in a semi-circular motion, his boot impinging on The Morning Star’s cranium, switching the lights off. Dick Morosi: ROUNDHOUSE KICK! Seth Ericson: Cannon is gonna do it! Dropping to his knees, the Brit covers the unconscious Lasiewicz, and it doesn’t take long before Mr. EXODUS achieves his dream. ”ONE!”
“TWO!”
“THREE!”*DING DING DING*And just like that, Mr. EXODUS became Mr. World Champion. David Zinkus: Here is your winner, and the NEEEEEEWWWWWWWW EXODUS World Champion... Johnny! CANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNON! WINNER (and NEW EXODUS Pro World Champion): JOHNNY CANNONThe scene fades to copyright as Cannon is clutching the world title, tears streaming from his eyes. |
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