The Autumn Effect 2: No World For Tomorrow

Up on the rooftop, a lone figure is sitting cross legged smoking a cigarette and looking out across the San Diego dusk. A light wind whips her long black hair. She begins to speak, without taking her eyes from the view of the city.

Laurel Anne Hardy: The air pressure's almost unbearable. Can't move without static crawling up your skin. That cloud of fatalism has darkened past black now; it's about ready to collapse into a hypersingular vortex sucking in light and souls.

She blows out a long, thin stream of smoke, which as soon as it gets more than a foot or so from her lips is diced to nothing by the breeze.

Laurel Anne Hardy: This is what they mean by the autumn effect.

Laurel turns round to look at us.

Laurel Anne Hardy: Let's suppose the worst happens tonight. Let's suppose that Justin Brooks pulverises Angela Jameson, Daisuke Iwakuma turns Jonathan Collins into another Andreas Lasiewicz, HATE somehow manage to retrieve the tag belts, Chuck Matthews beats Zack Lifer to take ownership, Sally Talfourd traumatises Fiona Collins, and Christum Furor buries Chris Strike alive... let's suppose it's not just a clean sweep for the hordes of darkness but a rout. Question then is...

She smiles, predatorily.

Laurel Anne Hardy: ...what next? How you gonna keep EXODUS down beyond that?

A pause as she stands and stretches.

Laurel Anne Hardy: You could remodel the place, give it that Matthews Enterprises makeover, but how you gonna make the rest of us respect your property rights? You could liquidate the legal entity, but how you gonna stop the rest of us making our own EXODUS, with blackjack and hookers? You could tear up contracts but how you gonna stop myself an' Evangelista... and Christian, Steve, Wulf, Abby, Adrien, Jaime, Salaryman, hell even Chandler... how could you stop us all showing up at the RIMAC in two Mondays' time anyway and doing what we always do, even if it has to be in the car park?

With a sneering laugh, Laurel suggests:

Laurel Anne Hardy: Legal action? Don't make me laugh. You know Wulf and I alone could take down every single police officer in San Diego.

Laurel shrugs. Both her tone of voice and her body language are getting aggressive.

Laurel Anne Hardy: Fire everyone. Dissolve the assets. Tear down the RIMAC. You still can't kill EXODUS. Daisuke, Christum... your shared obsession with Jonathan Collins has you as blinded as Andreas Lasiewicz. You started a war you can't win - and I don't mean that in a trite way. I mean you're chasing the wrong victory condition. You can win all the battles you want but you ain't earning any points towards your goal. You're just grinding in place. You're trying to make 21 when the rest of us are playing poker.

A faint orange glow illuminates her features as with one final, hard toke she finishes her cigarette.

Laurel Anne Hardy: You were told straight up at EXPRO 25 by the man you're so consumed with: You can't kill an idea, and that's what EXODUS is. EXODUS isn't a letterhead or a bank account name, and it most certainly is not contained within one man - not even Jon. EXODUS is a kami, and it lives inside every employee and every fan who cares about the art of wrestling. Take the trappings and raze them, twist them, do what you will. Fire us. Break our bones. It doesn't matter - you know you'll still never get what you really want.

She flicks the butt over the edge of the building, then turns and heads back inside.

Laurel Anne Hardy: Now... if you'll excuse me... I've a show to steal.

With that, we go back to Dick & Seth.

Dick Morosi: I don't often say things like this for journalistic reasons, but...I agree with Laurel Anne Hardy. In two weeks, no matter what happens, I will still be EXODUS Pro. And in two weeks, I will be with EXODUS Pro in whatever form it may be. Not a bastardized Chuck Matthews version, but wherever the heart of it goes. I will support this company.

Seth Ericson: As touched as I am, and as much as I agree with you....GAAAAAAAAY.

Dick Morosi: ....wow.

Seth Ericson: You're right though. Tonight, we stand together. And tonight, we stand together when the Sekigun takes on that darkness, and this is one of those matches Laurel Anne Hardy talked about! It's Justin Brooks meeting Angela Jameson...next!



The fans in the arena are eagerly anticipating the next thing to happen when all of a sudden, the lights are cut off sharply, causing the fans to murmur among them as to what is happening. As they continue to wonder, a solitary guitar riff echoes throughout the arena, furthering the confusion of those in attendance. As the riff keeps playing, the clash of a bass guitar and the beat of drums chime in, and red spotlights begin to pulsate in perfect sync with the beat of the music. While this is going on, the eerie voice of Tom Araya breaks through, reaching the audience.

"An unforeseen future nestled somewhere in time.
Unsuspecting victims, no warnings, no signs.
Judgment day the second coming arrives.
Before you see the light you must DIE!!!"

As soon as the final word is uttered, the loud crash of the drums and guitar signal a brilliant white light to take over the arena, truly kicking off “South of Heaven” by Slayer. Once the light fades out, it has been replaced by blood red lights. Spotlights frame the aisle and begin to pulse with the music. A few seconds pass and out from behind the curtains emerges ‘The Fallen Angel’ Angela Jameson. She steps out onto the stage, clad in her purple and black entrance robe, the hood coming down to just below her eyebrows. Her crystal blue eyes show little emotion as she stands there, surveying the scene for a moment before moving slowly down the aisle, the fans showering her with a loud chorus of boos. Her arms remain at her sides as her laser-like gaze remains focused on the ring as she climbs the steps slowly. She stands on the apron, with her back resting slightly on the ropes and glances to her right and left before reaching up with her right hand and yanking back the hood. As soon as she yanks the hood back, the lights slowly return to normal. Angela then steps through the bottom and middle ropes. Standing up tall in the ring, she quickly undoes her robe and hands it to the stagehand before slowly pacing around the ring as her music starts to fade out.

[Rick Ross - Chorus]
Pork on the fork, widen the pot
By any means if you like it or not
Malcom X, by any means
Many ONE4 stuffed in my denim jeans
As-Salamu Alaykum Wa alaikum as salaam
Whatever your religion, kiss the ring on the Don
Real nigga, street certified, hit the streets whip cost 335

David Zinkus: Now coming to the ring...hailing from Fort Worth, Texas...standing at 6'4" and 267 pounds, he is Justin Brooks!

[Wale]
Malcom X get your hand out my pocket
Some niggas walking with death guess they ran out of options
Tell them niggas we moving, tell them niggas to do it
I swear we going ham, throw some, my niggas sew me
They burn on every block,
Snitches ain't got no heart
Shit ain't been the same since Ronald Reagan helped Plymouth rock
And we don't land on it Mr. Reagan,
But this gonna make us rich Mr. Reagan
Now As-Salamu Alaykum Wa alaikum as salaam
She near that every Friday and then go to Jummah
Let her play with the box, she give the greatest of top
She said these niggas out here prayin' she makes a lot, word
How they say that we not fly, how they say that we not working
They just need convincing like Malcolm Little 'fore he converted
I'm on my dean Insha Allah I'ma get her right
On the Bible you can run (Qu'Ran) but you can't hide

A large chorus of boos erupt from the E-Pro faithful as Justin Brooks appears from the curtain and stands there with a smirk on his lips as he places his hands on his waist. “By Any Means” by Wale 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 as run his tongue over the front of his teeth. Justin just leaps to the second turnbuckle and throws his hands in the air before leaping down from the turnbuckle.

Dick Morosi:: Ladies and Gentlemen…this place is electric as these two stand in the middle of the ring.

Seth Ericson:: They’ve had a lot to say on and off Twitter and with Cleon Gray defintely watching in the back, it’s about to time see these two lock horns for the first time.

The bell sounds.

With the opening bell there is a large pop from the crowd as both Justin and Angela circle around each other better meeting in the middle of the ring in a collarbone tie-up. Using his strength advantage, Justin pushes Angela back hard as Justin stands in the middle of the ring and rolls his shoulders forward as Angela smiles and nods her head before engaging in another tie up in the ring. This time it’s Angela with the advantage, catching Brooks with a stiff forearm to the face causing the bigger man to stagger back. Pressing the advantage, Angela whips Justin into the ropes Brooks goes for a clothesline attempt but Jameson ducks and quickly grabs Justin around the waist and with a loud grunt she hoists Brooks over her head with a strong release German suplex.

Dick Morosi:: And there’s Jameson showing some strength of his own, surprising The Big Bad Brooks!

Seth Ericson:: Yeah, but do you think that you want go strength for strength with Justin Brooks? That’s a lose-lose situation!

Grabbing the back of his head Justin slowly starts to climb to his feet as Jameson works to keep the offensive press on as bounces off the opposite ropes and drives Brooks back to the mat with a running bulldog causing the other to bounce off the mat. Jameson scrambles over and rolls Brooks over for a quick pin as Chris Dawson counts!

ONE..

.. KICKOUT.

Angela can’t help but smile to herself and shrug her shoulders as Justin powers out of the pin. Both are back to a vertical base with the Angela Jameson fans clearly in her corner as the two meet in the middle of the ring once again, but this time it’s Justin Brooks who adds pressure and drives a knee into the mid-section of Jameson, driving the air out of her lungs! Yet, Brooks isn’t done as he drives another knee into her gut…


…followed by another.


…and another.


…and another.

Brooks lets go of Angela, who falls to the mat in a crumpled heap and grabs her midsection in pain. There are scattered boos from the Jameson fans as Justin looks up and with a smirk on his face he grabs Angela by the air and lifts her to her feet before putting him back down with a scoop slam.

Dick Morosi:: I don’t see Angela smiling anymore…

Seth Ericson:: Justin Brooks is all about business between those ropes.

Mounting Angela, Justin rains down lefts and rights as Angela brings her hands up trying to deflect what she can, yet Justin continue to drop bombs as referee counts to five and pulls Brooks off of Angela, giving Justin a stern warning and threatening disqualification. Justin stares down the referee into a corner and slowly turns around to find Angela Jameson on her feet and more importantly connecting with a flying calf kick taking down the Big Bad Brooks.

Dick Morosi:: And Brooks is down! Angela is going to have to keep the match up to keep Justin off of his feet!

Seth Ericson:: So far it’s working!

Picking Justin up, Angela starts to assault Brooks’ midsection with closed-fist punches pushing Justin against the ropes. Finding another opening, Angela races to the other side of the ropes and bounces back with a full head of speed but Justin is a step ahead and ducks his shoulder, launching Angela high over the top rope and to the ring floor hard!

Dick Morosi:: Oh my!

Seth Ericson:: Angela just earned several hundred frequent flyer miles after that one!

Justin takes a moment to catch his breath before looking over at the fallen Angela on the outside of the ring. Climbing out of the ring, Justin slowly makes his way towards Angela and picks him up to his feet and flings him into the steel guardrail hard as he yells out in pain. Finding the advantage of his own, Justin grabs Angela by the back of his neck and rolls him back into the ring before climbing onto the ring apron and back into the ring himself.

Dick Morosi:: The Big Bad Brooks, slowing this match down to his own pace. This guy is a monster and when he starts to get his own way, things get can very ugly very quickly.

Seth Ericson:: And Angela Jameson is about to find out.

Slowly Angela climbs onto her feet as Justin grabs her around the waist from behind and the big man pulls Angela high and back down with a German Suplex of his own, yet he bridges his back for the pin, as Chris Dawson counts.


ONE..


.. KICKOUT.


Dick Morosi:: And it’s Justin Brooks with a German suplex of his own!

Releasing the pin, Justin floats over the side of Angela and begins to drive his knees into the rib cage of Jameson as the referee begins to his count with Justin letting Angela go at the count of four. Angela is winching in pain as Justin pulls Angela up roughly and flings her into the ropes hard. Coming back towards Brooks, she ducks his shoulder for a back body drop but it’s Angela who floats over the back of Brooks and drops The Monster hard with a surprise DDT! Both men are down on the mat with Angela being the first to stir and climb to her feet. Holding his exposed ribs, Angela takes matters into her own hands and climbs to the top rope but see Justin slowly begin to stir and climb to his feet. Launching herself off the top rope, it’s Justin with surprise all of his own as he catches Angela with THE REMINDER (Lunging Clothesline From Hell), which turns Angela inside out! The crowd cheers loudly and stands to their feet in approval!

Dick Morosi:: Brooks nearly took Angela head off with that!

Seth Ericson:: Cover him, Big Man! Cover him!

Justin slowly crawls over to Angela and rolls himself for the pin as Chris Dawson gets into position.


ONE..

TWO..

.. KICKOUT.

The fans in Angela’s corner cheer as Justin drops his head in disbelief as the referee signals for two and a half. Climbing to his feet along with Angela in tow, Justin hurls her into the ropes but with a reversal it’s Justin who find himself heading towards the ropes as he turns he finds Angela hot on his tail and nails him hard with a clothesline that sends Justin to the outside of the ring. Finding her window slowly closing, Angela finds another gear and races towards the closest corner and climbs the top turnbuckle and leaving all self-perseveration into the wind and leaps with BITTERSWEET SERENADE driving her into the chest of Brooks to a huge pop from the fans! Both are down on the outside of the ring in an attempt to catch their breath as the referee begins his count with neither one moving.

Dick Morosi:: Oh this can’t end like this…

Seth Ericson:: These people damn a solid winner…com’n one of you guys needs to GET UP!

It’s Angela who’s first to stir and grunts, struggling to pick up the bigger Brooks and slowly rolls himself into the ring to stop the count. Sliding underneath the bottom rope, Angela hooks the leg for a pin, as Chris Dawson counts.

ONE..

TWO..

.. KICKOUT.

With a mixture of cheers and groans from the crowd, Angela looks slightly defeated as shakes her head slowly as lifts herself up to her knees looking at the referee who shows two and three-quarters.

Dick Morosi:: One can only imagine that if Angela would’ve pulled that off inside of the ring, this match would’ve been over.

Seth Ericson:: But she took too long to get Brooks back into the ring and this match is going to continue.

[THIS IS AWESOME!]
[clap-clap-clapclapclap]
[THIS IS AWESOME!]
[clap-clap-clapclapclap]
[THIS IS AWESOME!]
[clap-clap-clapclapclap]
[THIS IS AWESOME!]
[clap-clap-clapclapclap]

Angela stands to her feet looking up into the crowd and stands to her feet and starts to pump up the crowd as she stalks Justin who slowly climbs to his feet. Running towards him, Angela hooks arms around the big man and attempts a Belly to Belly suplex but Justin blocks the attempt and breaks Angela’s hold only to reverse position and nail a Belly to Belly suplex of his own as a last ditch effort. Angela lands hard across the ring as Justin slumps down in the far corner of the ring to catch his breath. Grimacing in pain and grabbing her ribs, Angela slowly stands to hher feet as Justin breaks into a dead sprint from the corner with a SPEAR picking Angela off of her feet and back to the mat hard. Justin jumps to his feet with a primal roar as the Brooks fans come to life with a huge pop! Justin drapes his body over Angela and hooks the leg! Chris Dawson counts.

ONE..

TWO..

THREE-NOOOOOOO!


Dick Morosi:: So close!

Seth Ericson:: Oh com’n! That was a three count!

Justin climbs to his feet and starts to argue with the referee who stands by his count of two and three-quarters as Justin Brooks argues different. Angela stirs and looks up to see Brooks with his back turn and springs to life with SANTA MUERTE and locks it in tight! Locking her legs around Brooks, Justin slowly climbs to his feet and staggers backwards as Angela holds the submission tight in the middle of the ring as Justin stands there beginning to fade out.

Dick Morosi:: This could be it! Justin Brooks could be out on his feet!

Seth Ericson:: Brooks should’ve kept his eye on the prize instead of dealing with the referee!

Angela grits her teeth trying to keep pressure on as Justin begins to fade slowly as the referee keeps a close eye on the action waiting for the moment to call for the bell. Justin swings his arms in hopes to trying to hit Angela with some sort of contact but Angela keeps her grip tight on the arms of Brooks, wrapped around his throat, who staggers backwards towards the nearest corner crushing Angela between himself and the turnbuckle. Hitting her exposed ribs against the turnbuckle, Angela can’t help but release the hold as Justin drops to his hands and knees and takes a deep breath in hopes to get the oxygen back to his brain. Seeing a small glimmer of hope, Angela fights the pain and stands to her feet and waits for Brooks to get to a vertical base. Throwing Brooks’ arm over her shoulder...but Brooks blocks with an elbow to the side of the head stunning Jameson and sending her staggering back slightly giving Justin the space he needs as he scoops Angela over his shoulders…

Dick Morosi:: HOOK ‘N LADDER! HOOK ‘N LADDER!

Dick Morosi:: Brooks pulled that out of nowhere!

Justin collapses over Angela’s body for the pin! Chris Dawson counts.

ONE..

TWO..

.. KICKOUT.

There’s an agony on Justin’s face as he looks up at the referee who only shakes his head slowly. Looking down at Angela, he shakes his head slowly as he climbs to feet and brings Angela up with him, who quickly goes for END OF DAYS but Brooks blocks it, pushing Angela back off of the ropes Brooks winds up for THE REMINDER but Angela ducks underneath and pulls Brooks down with a double leg takedown but remaining on his feet Angela, hooks Justin’s leg underneath the other in hopes to turning him over for the TEXAS CLOVERLEAF!

Dick Morosi:: Angela needs to turn Justin over to lock in that submission!

Dick Morosi:: But look at Justin trying his damnedest to fight it off!

Both competitors in the middle of the ring, Justin is still on his back but using his what power he has left in his legs Justin pushes Angela off hard again and before Angela can recover Justin lunges and connects with THE REMINDER, sending Angela end over end. Completely exhausted, Justin crawls over to Angela’s downed body and drapes a single arm over her chest. Chris Dawson counts.

ONE..

TWO..

THREE..

The ExPro fans roar as the ending bell sounds and both athletes lay in the middle of the ring, neither man acknowledging the referee who points to Justin Brooks as the victor.

David Zinkus:: The winner of this match Justin Brooks!!

WINNER: Justin Brooks

Dick Morosi:: Ladies and Gentlemen…that was one for the ages.

Seth Ericson: And while we stand in awe...look at what we have here!

Indeed, Cleon Gray has motored his way down to the ring on his segway, starting to clap his hands slowly for Justin Brooks. Brooks looks at him and Cleon smirks and nods, pointing at Brooks to finish off Jameson. He looks at Cleon in disbelief before Cleon starts barking orders at him, making sure that Brooks heard him. In the anger and rage, Justin Brooks just walks off, hoisting up Cleon's segway over his shoulders as he steps off, leaving Cleon alone.

Very alone.

The crowd starts to pop as Angela starts to get up and look at a very nervous Cleon, who tries to look around for help, even trying to call down the black clad security that had been doing his bidding, even looking for Brianna Singer to assist him. However, he currently stands alone as Angela looks at him.

Dick Morosi: HAVE YOUR MOMENT, ANGELA!

Angela indeed lets out a primal scream before lunging at Cleon, starting to hammer him with fists as the crowd erupts! A huge "KILL HIM, ANG!" chant starts to erupt through the open area, all the crowd getting behind her actions. Quickly, she lifts him and places him in a standing headscissors and trapping his arms...WIDOWMAKER! She gets up and starts to leave the ring to the sounds of "South of Heaven" while the crowd cheers and she continues to slap hands with the crowd!

Dick Morosi: Man, that was satisfying. Well, folks, we’re going to move along to our--

Cleon Gray Stop the show.

Dick Morosi: Wait, what?

Cleon Gray, in spite of being battered by Angela Jameson, is not, seemingly, unbowed. The disciplinarian also successfully has gotten hold of a microphone, and is anything but pleased.

Cleon Gray: You think you’ve won, don’t you? Justin Brooks betrayed me, Angela Jameson laid her filthy hands on me...but Cleon Gray will be the one with the last laugh! For while you all sit here and laugh at me, tonight is the night that I introduce my insurance policy to EXODUS! Jonathan Collins was stupid enough to sign off on the appointing of a NEW authority figure here, a man who will be doing MY bidding!

Seth Ericson: You know, I really don’t like where this is going…

Neither do the RIMAC fans, who jeer Cleon lustily.

Cleon Gray: Behold! The new Director of Quality Control of EXODUS Pro Wrestling...SEYMOUR ALMASY!

Dick Morosi: ...goddamnit.

“Otherworld” by Nobuo Uematsu plays in the RIMAC, and the former Final Fantasy (and new Director of Quality Control) emerges from behind the curtain in the same troubling black suit that he has been intermittantly seen in over the past weeks and months. The booing only intensifies, but Almasy himself doesn’t seem to pay any heed to the EXODUS faithful as he power-walks down to the ring.

He doesn’t even slide into the ring. He takes the stairs instead, lest his very nice suit get dirty. Stepping between the ring ropes, he raises a hand in the air to acknowledge the fans, finally - and seems almost offended at the negativity.

Cleon, on the other hand, is gleeful.

Cleon Gray: Welcome to the Autumn Effect 2, Mr. Almasy! The floor is yours!

Seth Ericson: Gray’s practically rubbing his hands together! How long has this been in the works now? Months?

Seymour takes the microphone from Cleon with a nod and a bow, shaking Cleon’s hand as well. When he turns to speak, he’s hit with another wave of negativity.

Seymour Almasy: Thank you, Mr. Gray. Without you, none of this would be possible. Now... I promised the world that I would be here at the Autumn Effect 2, and lo and behold, Seymour Almasy keeps his promises. I’m going to try and keep this short, but I’ve got important things to discuss tonight. Now, most of you not named Wulf Erikssen have seen me here and there on EXODUS television. Some of you in attendance have seen me coming to and from the RIMAC on show days even when I haven’t been on the show. I’ve been talking to roster members, talking to staff, and it’s all led up to this night. Earlier tonight, I signed a contract officially making me the Director of Quality Control of EXODUS Pro Wrestling.

Seymour Almasy: Now, Cleon, if you’d be so kind, tell everyone out there watching exactly what that means?

Gray calls for another microphone. Unfortunately, he gets it.

Cleon Gray: As the Director of Quality Control. Seymour Almasy has authority to discipline all on-camera EXODUS talent. This discipline can take the forms of fines and suspensions, and as EXODUS is often a very...naughty company, Almasy’s mandate includes the ability to indefinitely suspend such talent, especially talent who put their hands on minority shareholders!

If the crowd suspected the fix was in before, it’s now positive of it, as negativity rains down from all corners of the RIMAC Arena.

Seymour Almasy: Thank you, Cleon. Now...just to reiterate, as Director of Quality Control for EXODUS Pro, I’ve been given the authority to pass judgment on any and all on-air talent of EXODUS, isn’t that correct?

Cleon Gray: Yes! Very much correct!

Seymour Almasy: Good, good! So I have authority over EVERYONE! Jonathan Collins? If he steps out of line right now? I can fine him. If Magnus Gunner survives being buried alive and acts up? I have the authority to suspend him! That’s what you’re telling me, right?

Cleon nods his head gleefully, and gestures to the back, mouthing the words “Angela Jameson.”

Seymour Almasy: Even you, Mr. Grey! You’re on-air talent, right?

Cleon Gray: Of course! You know Harvey Q. Birdman, our attorney, right? We don’t allow anyone to appear on EXODUS television or iPPV without signing them to a talent contract!

Seymour Almasy: Wonderful! Well, then, now that we have that cleared up, my first official act as Director of Quality Control for EXODUS Pro Wrestling…

The smile on Cleon Gray’s face is a horrible thing, the sort of image that scares children and becomes memetic on certain corners of the internet.

There is, however, a bit of good news.

Seymour Almasy: ..is to officially announce that Cleon Grey is hereby suspended indefinitely and BARRED from appearing on any EXODUS broadcast.

...it’s officially gone, now.

Seth Ericson: Wait, WHAT?

The roar from the crowd almost drowns out Seth’s commentary. There is, naturally, one person who isn’t quite so happy.

Cleon Gray: ….oh! I get it! This is a joke! Now I understand! Ha! Very funny! Now go on, and say it again, except this time with the right na--

The Director of Quality Control reaches out, SLAPPING the microphone out of Gray’s hand. It bounces off the mat with a loud feedback sound, and suddenly, Cleon Gray’s countenance darkens even further.

Seymour Almasy: ...did you really think you’d get away with this, Cleon? With everything you’ve done? With being in Daisuke Iwakuma’s pocket, ruining Zack Lifer’s life, and driving Angela Jameson batshit crazy? Did you?

As a horrified Cleon Gray stands shaking in the ring, Seymour Almasy waves to the back. Moments later, several security personnel file out from behind the curtain, heading down to the ringside area.

Seymour Almasy: You were afraid, Cleon. You were afraid Daisuke might betray you one day. You knew Justin Brooks was going to abandon you to the wolves. No matter how powerful you felt, you needed an ally, Cleon. You needed a man who’d stand alongside you. And I became that man, but did you ever stop and think why? Didn’t you find it just a tiny bit odd that Jonathan Collins was so quick to sign off on my appointment?

Gray’s mouth flaps open and closed, but no sound comes out until the security hit the ring apron, and Cleon screams out his accusation at the top of his lungs.

Cleon Gray: YOU SET ME UP! YOU AND COLLINS!

Seymour Almasy: Damn right we did. And you know what, Cleon? It was even easier than Jon told me it would be.

A wild-eyed Gray lunges towards Almasy, only for the security to get to him first. Holding his arms behind his back, the six guards manage to roll Cleon down to the apron, and then out of the ring. Hoisting him overhead like a human sacrifice to the volcano, they begin to carry Cleon out of the arena to the back, as the RIMAC do their solemn duty.

DA-NA-NA-NA! DA-NA-NA-NA! HEY HEY HEY! GOODBYE!
DA-NA-NA-NA! DA-NA-NA-NA! HEY HEY HEY! GOODBYE!
DA-NA-NA-NA! DA-NA-NA-NA! HEY HEY HEY! GOODBYE!
DA-NA-NA-NA! DA-NA-NA-NA! HEY HEY HEY! GOODBYE!

Seth Ericson: The RIMAC faithful saying their fond farewells to Cleon Gray, and now that he’s indefinitely suspended, I can say that it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy!

In the ring, Almasy waves to the departing Gray, and heaves a huge sigh. The hostlity towards him is gone, contributing to Seymour’s much improved mood.

Seymour Almasy: Thank Yevon that’s over. Do you have any idea how hard it was to pretend to like that guy for months on end?

Seymour shudders.

Seymour Almasy: Now that he’s gone, I can be up front with everyone. I stand here before you today because Jonathan Collins was a big enough man to admit the one thing I’d wanted to hear from him since the day I walked into EXODUS Pro - that when it came to his company, he couldn’t be unbiased. And really? He shouldn’t be unbiased. EXODUS is his baby. Tonight, he’s wrestling the last match of his career, but he’s going to bleed EXODUS until they put him in the ground.

Dick Morosi: That’s a certainty.

Seth Ericson: Given the nature of what he’s fighting Iwakuma in, though, Seymour miiiight have wanted a better choice of words...

Seymour Almasy: After he admitted that to me, he told me that he wanted someone who could impartially mete out justice here. Someone with no agenda. Someone with no stake. Someone who wouldn’t abuse his power. And, well, seeing as how my last match in EXODUS was a Cibernetico months ago... a guy who calls himself the Judge Magister fits the bill pretty well, doesn’t he?

Dick Morosi: I’m just happy he’s not actually a Cleon zombie, really.

Seymour Almasy: As Director of Quality Control, my job’s really simple. My job is to basically make sure shit doesn’t get too out of hand. This is pro wrestling, of course, so mayhem and disorder are the rules of the day, but EXODUS has been under a pall practically since day one. Between LEGION and Gods & Monsters, there’s always been psychological warfare pushing the boundaries of what should be allowable. Now, ideally? One way or another, tonight’s the denouement for a WHOLE lot in this company. We’re, knock on wood, going to be off to the start of a bright new era, and as such?

The Judge Magister nods his head, firmly.

Seymour Almasy: EVERYONE’s going to have a clean slate with me. I’ll be looking at everyone with new eyes as EXODUS goes on into 2015 and beyond.. And whether it’s Magnus Gunner or Chris Strike leading that new era, I’m going to do everything I can to make sure the four words Jonathan Collins has lived his life by since opening these doors aren’t just a cool sounding hashtag. All WILL be well, everyone. I will do everything in my power to make sure of it. And now that I’ve wasted enough of your time, I’m going to head backstage and watch the rest of 2014’s best pay-per-view event. Enjoy!

Seymour turns the microphone off, and takes his leave, waving to the capacity RIMAC crowd as he heads to the back.

We continue our journey backstage, and sitting quietly in a dressing room trailer is Jonathan Collins, wearing some training gear for the night. Suddenly, a knock on the door is heard and as he stands up, he's suddenly surprised as he sees some familiar faces. (R)Evolution Wrestling students Sydney Christensen, Black Jones, Caleb Storm, Carey Dean, along with his best friend Darrin Stearns visit him, leaving him to smile softly.

Jonathan Collins: You guys are something else.

He laughs as Darrin comes forward to hug his best friend.

Darrin Stearns: Are you ready?

Jonathan Collins: As ready as I'll be.

Darrin Stearns: Good. This isn't my thing though, I'm gonna let Sydney say what she needs.

Sydney approaches the front of the group, holding a box in her hands as she smiles at a man that has taken the time to mentor her.

Sydney Christensen: This was Shinji's idea, but he needed to step away for a few. Listen, the bunch of us...we can't thank you enough for what you've done to pave the way for us. I know that it's hard for you to feel like you've succeeded at this when everyone is coming around to attack you. That's why a bunch of us pooled a few dollars together to give you this.

Carey Dean: Look, I ain't gonna get gushy, but you did something for all of us. You gave us a future...this is our thanks.

Jonathan takes the box from Sydney, slowly starting to open it, smiling as it's a track jacket, bearing a famous symbol and a new name that he's adopted over the past several months.

Jonathan Collins: Guys, I don't even know what to say.

Black Jones: Don't say anythin', boss! Just know that you gave us a future, we're gonna give you what we can.

Jonathan smiles and nods, the kids stepping back as Jon and Darrin look at each other.

Darrin Stearns: This is it, right?

Jonathan Collins: Time to meet Trey, Sterling, Bisc, the rest of them.

Darrin Stearns: You'll come back. You always do.

Jonathan Collins: I'll do what I have to do. I always do.

The two men nod and share a hug like brothers before we go back to Dick and Seth.

Dick Morosi: People often wonder if it's true, and I can confirm it. Darrin Stearns and Jonathan Collins are like brothers, and it's never been more obvious until tonight.

Seth Ericson: Dick, Darrin's staring down the possible end of his friend's life, and this has to be eating him alive. Here's hoping the suspense doesn't kill him before the match.

Dick Morosi: In the meantime, we've got a huge I Quit Match coming up next! The winner will be the new number one contender to the EXODUS Pro World Title after tonight!

Seth Ericson: This feud has been building practically since our first iPPV and it's taken twists and turns over the past two years, but tonight it ends!

Dick Morosi: They've been partners, they've been rivals, and now they're just plain enemies! It's Johnny Cannon and Abby Park in an I Quit match...NEXT!



Suddenly, the entrance tunnel is fixed with a bright purple spotlight, while the arena lights dim down to a purple tone as Cinderella Man by Eminem begins to play, starting off as a low ebb of drums before rising into a vast, vociferous crescendo of noise. The fans now lay claim to their hatred, bombarding the arena with unified chants of "Johnny Sucks!" while the entrance tunnel itself becomes surrounded by a shower of sparks. The Brit's silhouette emerges behind the sparks, only backed by another daintier image.

David Zinkus: Making his way to the ring...

On demand, bursting through the shower of sparks, emerges none other than Johnny Cannon. As per usual, the cocksure, megalomaniacal grin is obvious on the face of the Englishman as he pauses on the entrance ramp, head raised high and proudfully to the sky as he peers out at the incredibly one-sided EXODUS audience. Appearing just behind him is none other than his manager, Quinn Goodrich, who edges on the crowd. Wearing purple and black wrestling trunks, with matching boots and a knee brace (on his surgically repaired left knee), the Brit appears ready for action, not because of his attire, but due to the vindictive look in his eyes, which is revealed as he removes his Versace sunglasses. They are the eyes of a cold, calculating machine. Johnny places his expensive shades in his black track jacket with numerous insignias sewn on it in purple, and begins his haughty strut to the ring as David Zinkus reads off his introduction.



David Zinkus: Accompanied by Quinn Goodrich, he weighs in tonight at two hundred and forty-five pounds and hails from London, England; He is the self proclaimed ‘Greatest Man That Ever Lived’, 'Cinderella Man' and the ‘British Mamba'; Ladies and gentlemen... this is #MrEXODUS.... Johnny! CANNON!

Cannon struts to the ring, marching with an undeniable swagger, vanity, and pretentious charm, while Goodrich continuously edges on the audience, swinging his arms up and pointing out at the sea of fans. Johnny, ignores the onslaught of hatred from the fans on either side of them, no longer caring about their opinions or beliefs. He spurts forward toward the ring, and slides in under the bottom rope, before launching himself to his feet and suddenly spinning to the center of the ring in a very Shawn Michaels-esque fashion, before positioning himself carefully in the middle. He unzips his track jacket, lowering it down his hands and to the canvas below him like a male stripper, before throwing up the offensive, British, two finger salute, eliciting tremendous heat from the crowd. From there, Johnny slowly backs into the ropes, hooking his arms back on them before bouncing several times, beginning his mental preparations and prerequisites as Quinn looks on from ringside; his face drops to a more solemn expression, and his eyes flicker with hundreds of ideas playing in his mind for the match.

Dick Morosi: Johnny Cannon has been bragging that he deserves this...and sometimes, I'm convinced he may be right.

Seth Ericson: He gives it his all for this company, just like everyone else! Now it's up to him to prove that he's the only one that gives 110% against a person he's angered incredibly!

The 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 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.



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.



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.

David Zinkus: AND HIS OPPONENT! SHE IS FROM MUSIC CITY, NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE! SHE IS "THE SEOULLLLLLLL TRAAAAAAAAAIN" ABBY PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARK!



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.

Referee D'Artis Johnson calls for the bell as both men eye each other from opposite corners. Park is first to move from hers and circle the ring as Cannon reluctantly moves out of his own, warily watching Park’ every step. He continues to circle around the edge of the ring as Park steps into the middle of the ring and demand a lock up, but Cannon stays near the ropes.

Dick Morosi: Park wants Cannon to meet her in the middle of the ring.

Seth Ericson: That isn’t Cannon’s style and she should know it by now.

Dick Morosi: Maybe it’s her last offer for Cannon to show he at least has some decency?

Seth Ericson: Again; she should know him by now.

Park watches Cannon continue around the ring and shakes her hands as she steps around to keep him in her view. Cannon smirks as he steps around the ring, much to the annoyance of his opponent who suddenly launches forward at him and grab two handfuls of his head. Cannon wraps his foot around the middle rope but the hold can’t be broken by the referee’s count. Park drags Cannon from the ropes but is raked across the eyes by her villainous foe, who quickly wraps Park up in a headlock and squeezes the hold in tight. Park pushes Cannon back into the ropes and tries to throw him off but he keeps the hold locked in and drops to a knee to stop running. He leads Park over to the ropes and maintains the headlock as he drags Park’ eyes along the middle rope. He lets go and Park stumbles back into a corner, clutching at her eyes and blinking to try and get her vision back to normal. Cannon lands a stiff knife edge chop across the chest, stunning Park and he follows with a second that echoes throughout the arena, making the sell-out crowd grimace.

Dick Morosi: Brutal chops from Cannon!

Seth Ericson: This is how you teach someone not to mess with Johnny Cannon!

He lands a third, thumping chop across the chest and Park looks worse for wear with her chest lit up bright red. Cannon grabs a handful of his opponent’s hair and lands a stiff European uppercut that rocks Park. He steps back to enjoy his handiwork and prepares for another knife edge chop, but Park ducks under the arm and Cannon spins around and back into the corner. Park begins kicking away repeatedly as the crowd’s cheers grow louder.

Dick Morosi: This is what we’ve all been waiting for!

Park’s kicks turn into stomps as Cannon slips down to the canvas and finally lies in a heap. Park pushes him with his foot to the arena floor and he lands with a thud and she quickly follows him out of the ring. Cannon frantically crawls away as Park pursues him until he’s cornered by the ring steps. Cannon pleads with Park but she still closes in on his opponent… until Cannon kicks Park’s leg from underneath him and she falls face first onto the ring steps.

Seth Ericson: You don’t give a man like Cannon an opening like that!

Cannon grins and pulls himself to his feet, drags Park away from the steps and lands a sickening gutwrench suplex on the concrete floor.

Dick Morosi: Listen to that impact!

Park’ body contorts in pain and she grips her back and neck.

Seth Ericson: And there’s Cannon’s chance. He’s going to be like a shark smelling blood!

Cannon’s eyes light up and he starts to stomp away at Park’ neck. He pulls her to her feet and goes to roll her into the ring, but Park grips onto the apron and slips under Cannon’s arm and lands a desperation saito suplex onto the concrete.

Dick Morosi: A huge counter from Abby Park!

Seth Ericson: That was brutal…

Both competitors lie motionless, staring at the rafters, as the crowd cheer wildly around them. The referee jumps to the outside to check on them and Cannon mutters to him to ask Park…

Dick Morosi: Wait… what?!

Seth Ericson: He’s giving him a chance to quit while he’s ahead, Dick. A true gentleman!

D'Artis Johnson: Do you quit, Park?

Abby Park: NO!

She sits up while Cannon still struggles on the floor. She slowly gets back to her feet and drags Cannon up to his, then rolls him into the ring and slides in. She sets Cannon up in the middle of the ring for a suplex, but Cannon wraps his leg around Park to stop the move. He tries again and Cannon does the same and stomps on Park’ foot to stop her trying again. He then counters into a swinging neckbreaker and Park clutches her neck again. Cannon slinks over to the corner and slowly walks over and lands a perfectly executed, measured knee drop to the face. Park sits up clutching at her face and neck but Cannon pushes her back to the canvas and rests his knee across the face of his opponent and demands the referee to ask her again.

D'Artis Johnson: Do you quit, Park?

Abby Park: No…

Dick Morosi: Park won’t quit that easily. She’s waited far too long for this!

Cannon stands up and drops another knee across the side of Park’s head, then holds it in place. He demands the referee asks again.

D'Artis Johnson: What do you say, Park?

Abby Park: No!

Cannon stands up and drops another knee, this time hitting the canvas as Park rolls out of the way. He holds onto his knee and slowly gets to his feet as Park props herself up against the middle rope. Cannon walks over and kicks Park’ gut, then pulls her to her feet and whips her across the ring. He bounces off the ropes herself and charges at Park to connect with a Running Boot. The cogs start to spin in Cannon’s mind as he looks around the ring and pulls Park to her feet with two handfuls of hair, but Park pushes the hands away and chops him hard across the chest. Cannon backs up and Park fires away with a second chop. She backs into the corner and Park climbs onto the middle rope, throwing her clenched fist in the air to the delight of the crowd.

Dick Morosi: Let him have it, Park!

Seth Ericson: That’s unprofessional, Dick!

Dick Morosi: And Cannon has put this woman through so much! How can you not want him to exact some revenge?!

Park begins throwing punches as the crowd counts along to every blow.

1!

2!

3!

4!

5!

6!

7!

8-

Dick Morosi: LOW BLOW!

Seth Ericson: RIGHT IN PUS-

Dick Morosi:: SETH! You can't say that!

Park slowly drops from the middle ropes and Cannon grins, weary and dazed. He drops to his knees and uses the opportunity to readjust his senses after being pummelled. He shakes his head and stands up, then saunters over to Park who still lies on the canvas in agony. He continues to grin at the suffering of his foe and throws a couple of stomps at her neck for good measure. He then looks over to the knee and stomps on it. Park clutches at it and he continues to stomp away, then grabs the foot, stomps the back of the knee a few more times and then steps over and locks her up in the figure four leglock.

Dick Morosi: The hold is locked in!

Seth Ericson: That hold is cinched in tight! And Park can’t use the ropes to break it!

Park writhes in pain and slaps the mat as Cannon leverages the pressure of the hold onto Park’ bad knee. He looks behind him at the ropes and then grips onto them to lift himself higher and increase the pressure on his opponent.

Dick Morosi: Blatant cheating!

Seth Ericson: Anything goes in an I Quit match!

Dick Morosi: So much for being a gentleman…

Cannon tells the referee once again to ask Park if he quits…

D'Artis Johnson: Do you quit, Park?

Abby Park: NO!

She continues to fight through the pain and tries to turn the hold over, but Cannon manages to stop it because of his grip on the ropes. Park tries again to turn it over and Cannon responds by increasing the pressure to stop her. He asks the referee to ask her again.

D'Artis Johnson: Do you quit?!

Abby Park: NO!

This time Park pushes herself backwards and Cannon’s grip on the ropes starts to loosen. His arms are at full reach as Park inches them away from the ropes… and Cannon finally loses his grip! He drops to the canvas and frantically tries to reach for the ropes as Park slowly turns the hold over and succeeds! Cannon quickly breaks the hold though and crawls over to the ropes. He stands up and walks over to Park and picks up the foot and steps over for another figure four leglock attempt, but is kicked away and hands face first on the middle turnbuckle.

Dick Morosi: A great opening for Park!

Park crawls over to the opposite corner and pulls herself up. He notices Cannon slowly standing up and about to turn around in the corner and charges across, fighting through the pain of his knee, to deliver the GOURD-HEAD but Cannon sidesteps with the turnbuckle padding in hand.

Seth Ericson: Looks like Cannon got the better of Park with the same trick again!

Dick Morosi: Or not…

Park managed to stop herself short of hitting the exposed turnbuckle and watches over her shoulder as Cannon stops taunting the fans, bragging of his intellect and turns around… into the GOURD-HEAD!

Dick Morosi: That caught him out!

Park rolls away and stands up as the crowd cheer her loudly. Her focus remains on Cannon, but he rolls out to the apron and sits up, looking to slow down Park’s momentum. She grins at his trick, but Park reaches over the top rope and lifts him up in the top rope hung sleeper hold and Cannon’s legs kick violently as he’s lifted far off the canvas in the hold. Park tells the referee to ask him if he quits.

Dick Morosi: He’s got him now!

D'Artis Johnson: Do you quit, Cannon?

Cannon’s voice is muffled by Park’ arms, but he somehow manages to reach up and gouge Park’ eyes, eventually forcing her to break the hold. Cannon drops out to the outside, landing hard on the floor as Park holds onto her eyes.

Seth Ericson: That move should be illegal!

Dick Morosi: Anything goes in an I Quit match!

Park rubs her eyelids and follows him out of the ring, her vision still not right. She takes a moment and sets her eyes on Cannon and walks over to her, but he takes hold of Park’ tights and throws her into the announcers’ table. Park lies sprawled across the table, still dazed.

Dick Morosi: I think we might need to move!

The commentators move to the side as Cannon gets back to his feet, winded but still going strong, and picks up some camera cables. He drags the cameraman along with him as he wraps it around Park’ neck and begins to wrench on the wires.

Dick Morosi: Somebody stop him! This is going too far!

Seth Ericson: All Park needs to do is say ‘I quit’ and it’s all over!

Parks face turns blue and she looks to be fading fast as Cannon tells the referee to ask her.

D'Artis Johnson: Do you quit?

No answer from Park as he continues to fade… but she throws a last desperation kick that catches Cannon across the temple and he lets go of the wires. Park takes them from around her neck but isn’t able to capitalise as Cannon charges in and starts delivering clubbing blows to the chest that keep his opponent winded. He walks away as Park rolls off the table, coughing and spluttering as colour slowly returns to her face but still feeling the effects of the choking. Cannon picks up a steel chair and slides it into the ring, then pulls Park to her feet and rolls her into the ring and slowly follows her…

Dick Morosi: What does Cannon have in mind here?

Seth Ericson: You rarely see him with a weapon… so you know this will be serious!

Cannon eyes up Park as he wearily sits up on her knees… and tries for THE BIRMINGHAM SCREWDRIVER but Park ducks under and stands up behind Cannon and connects with a German suplex. The crowd cheer as Park slowly rolls over and Cannon tries to quickly get back to her feet and spins around, throwing a wild clothesline that Park ducks under and runs to the ropes, returning to deliver a thunderous leg lariat that turns Cannon inside out.

Dick Morosi: The momentum is shifting in this match!

She pulls Cannon up and quickly puts him back down with a belly-to-back suplex and looks down at her prone opponent, her eyes lit up with determination and anger. She watches as Cannon rolls over to his side, then unloads with a kick that echoes throughout the arena. She follows with a second… a third… and then stomps on him as he lies motionless on the canvas.

Seth Ericson: Park has lost it!

Dick Morosi: We’ve never seen her like this before!

She stops and looks around at the crowd who are cheering more and more for him. Her focus returns to Cannon and clutches his arms in a double chickenwing, then flips over to lock it in and wrenches the hold as Cannon barely makes a sound, still feeling the assault of kicks and stomps. Park keeps the pressure on the hold and Cannon finally starts to cry out in pain. D'Artis Johnson holds the microphone out for Cannon…

Dick Morosi: Is this it?!

Park suddenly stops the hold and sits up, clutching his neck.

Seth Ericson: I thought she had it won!

Dick Morosi: So did I… but that move requires a lot of neck strength and Park doesn’t have that right now.

Park slaps the mat in frustration and rubs her neck, looking more annoyed than ever. She stands up and pulls Cannon to his feet, then steps back and launches forward with a discus punch, only for Cannon to duck under it and kick the back of Park’ knee, forcing her to kneel on the canvas...

Seth Ericson: Look out!

Grabbing the chair, Cannon swings but Abby ducks at the last minute and quickly springs to her feet and dropkicks Cannon right at the knees, sending him crumbling to the mat. Taking the chair in her own hands, she looks at Cannon for only a second…into a thunderous chair shot across the back that knocks him straight to the canvas. Park pulls the chair up and continues to land shot after shot, mercilessly beating Cannon with the chair across the back, ribs, legs, arms, anything that gets in the way of her swinging it.

Dick Morosi: This… this is brutal…

Seth Ericson: It’s sickening!

Cannon’s reactions become more and more muffled and he slowly begins to just stop reacting to the chair shots.

Dick Morosi: The referee needs to stop this! Cannon is in serious danger!

Seth Ericson: Stop that man! He’s lost his sanity!

Park continues to land chairshot after chairshot, until the referee finally steps in and tell him to stop so he can check on Cannon. He checks on him and Cannon manages to utter the words…

Johnny Cannon: I… quit…

The referee calls for the bell as Park continues to stare down at Cannon, still motionless and covered in bruises and welts from head to toe, sprawled on the canvas.

David Zinkus: Here is your winner… ABBBBBBY PAAAAARK!!!!

Park looks at the steel chair in her hand and drops it, then slowly backs out of the ring and drops to the ringside.

WINNER (and Number One Contender): Abby Park

Dick Morosi: SHE DID IT! CAN YOU BELIEVE SHE DID IT?!

Seth Ericson: Abby Park has return to the main event! She slayed the dragon that's haunted her for the past two years! Abby Park has defeated Johnny Cannon, and she is the new number one contender!

Dick Morosi: Abby, she's got a microphone! I think she wants to say something.

It was hard for Abby to start talking for two very specific reasons. The first, most obviously, was the deafening noise of both the crowd in their raucous applause combined with the continued sounds of her now synonymous entrance music. The latter died down easily enough; the crowd was a different beast altogether. But the second reason Abby was finding it difficult to talk was simple. She didn’t quite know what to say, how to start.

Given the match she had just been through, few could blame her. Still, Abby held the microphone tightly and stood in the center of the ring, looking out at the fans with a wide smile.

Abby Park: You know…I’m still kind of in shock. Some people back there…they might feel like this when they win a title…that feeling where you’re not sure if you’re in a head trauma based dream or…reality. It’s…it’s euphoria. Tonight…tonight was the closing in a very long chapter that is the story of Abby Park. Tonight…I’ve conquered the man who has been the thorn in my side for some time now.

Abby pauses, letting the reactions, negative or otherwise, from the mention of Johnny Cannon pass.

Abby Park: If I’ve learned anything from this…it’s that there’s something to be said for confidence. Cannon’s been running his mouth for months now, that’s arrogance. And tonight I responded to his claims, I showed him that everything I said wasn’t just hot air. That…that’s confidence. Sorry, the last thing you students in attendance want is another lesson, am I right?

Abby takes a step away from the center, slowly walking towards the ropes.

Abby Park: That confidence is what got me here. The belief in myself that…honestly…I thought I had lacked. It hasn’t been an easy road getting to this place…but after tonight I’ve regained the confidence I once had. The confidence that once put me in competition for the World Championship. I suppose I have Johnny Cannon to thank for that, in a weird way.

Abby pauses, searching for her next words, all the while the crowd continues its approval of her impromptu speech.

Abby Park: That confidence is what’s going to keep me on this road. I say that it was rough getting here…but it’s not going to get easier. If anything, tonight was child’s play. The appetizer. But…I’m not going to stop. I didn’t say those two words tonight…I’m not EVER going to say them!

Abby raises a fist in the air. Her triumphant moment.

Abby Park: But…that’s for a different day. That’s not for tonight. That’s for tomorrow. Because tonight…tonight I’ve got a six pack of Hite promised. Tonight, I’m going to do something I never had the chance to do, not going to college and all. I’m talking, of course, of celebrating. Partying. That’s the college experience, right? I think I’ve earned a little bit of fun after tonight. You guys and girls…if you think what just happened was awesome…you’ve got no idea what else awaits you. But…come find me after the show, we’ll celebrate together, because I couldn’t have done it without the support of each and every one of you! Your support...helped make this possible in ways I can't even express!

Abby looks as if she’s about to drop the mic to the applause, but as she begins to step out of the ring, she pauses, smiles, and stands upright again.

Abby Park: You know…with Thanksgiving coming next week and Christmas not far after…is it too early to think about New Year’s Resolutions? Because I think I’ve found mine. Do you want to hear it?

The Tennessean Tomboy takes the applause as an approval.

Abby Park: Well, as you probably know, me winning this match makes me the number one contender to the World Title. I was thinking…how does an Abby Park singles title reign in 2015 sound? Because to me…that sounds like a pretty damn good goal. The Seoul Train is picking up speed, and there’s no derailing it this time!

With final applause, Abby extends her hand and gives a thumbs up to the crowd. With them still applauding, Abby steps out of the ring and walks, backwards, towards the backstage area, making sure to give as many high fives to the fans as she can.

Seth Ericson: Well, you’ve heard it here first, ladies and gentlemen. Abby’s certainly looking ahead to her future, and after what we witnessed tonight I’m inclined to think she just might be able to live up to her words.

Dick Morosi: Who can say what the future holds for Abby Park. She is the number one contender, we’ll have to see how, when, and if she can take advantage of that. But as Abby Park leaves a winner, there’s still so much ahead tonight at Autumn Effect, let’s toss it backstage now and see what’s happening.

The camera cuts backstage, where Tom Matheny wanders through the halls, enoying the atmosphere backstage at this big show. He suddenly freezes, staring down the hallway, towards the backstage doors. The camera swivels around to show a flank of armed security, decked in black riot gear, many armed with police batons, a few with tasers dangling at their belts. They wear the same gear: Black clothes, with heavy black vests over it, emblazoned with a familiar silver sun. Most of them wear black masks that conceal their faces, with a select few donning hard helmets with visors that hide the men beneath. Tom recognizes the force at once: Only a couple months ago, these very men assaulted fans and talent in (R)Evoluton. Instinctively, Tom takes a few steps back, but finds a gloved hand wrapped around his wrist, preventing him from leaving. A few members of the private force surround him, cornering him and brandishing their batons until a cold voice calls from behind the line.

?: Leave him. He's harmless.

The force parts, allowing the speaker to walk through...Chuck Matthews. Chuck looks over Tom, smiling.

Chuck Matthews: How is it that you're always the guy I run into back here? You're....not stalking me, are you?

He chuckles at his own joke. Tom shakes his head.

Tom Matheny: These men...

Chuck Matthews: Enterprise Security. Couldn't risk anyone getting some cheap shots in before my big match, could I?

Tom slowly pieces it together, looking from the guards, to Chuck, to the familiar silver sun...the Matthews Enterprises corporate logo.

Tom Matheny: They were at (R)Evo. They-

Chuck Matthews: They are loyal to the man that signs their paychecks. Come on, Tommy. You didn't think these guys just came out of nowhere, did you? Miss Singer needed help, and I had the resources she needed.

Tom Matheny: You let this happen?

Chuck Matthews: I made a business transaction. Just like I did with Gods & Monsters...just like I did with HATE.

Tom Matheny: They attacked FANS, Chuck. This was more than you simply spreading chaos. This was violence on a new level. This was-

Chuck Matthews: This was proving a point. Everybody talks about loyalty. Everybody talks about respect...like those words have any meaning. Like they're not dime a dozen words tossed around to instill some sense of...pride, or whatever. Everybody wants to be the hero, Tom. Everybody wants to save the world. Everybody wants to be respected, revered, hailed as the champion of the people. You think Jon Collins and Christum Furor are so different? You think Zack Lifer and I are so different? Everybody has a hook, Tom. Everybody is motivated by something different...but our loyalties are always the same.

Tom Matheny: What? Money?

Chuck Matthews: Themselves. People like Lifer? They demand respect, they demand recognition....he wants to beat me so badly here tonight, but do you really think he's doing it for the company? No...he does it for himself. These boys and girls following Furor? Following Collins? You think they're doing it because they believe in the cause? They do it because each and every one of them believes they're on the winning side, and each and every one of them wants to make sure their own ass is saved whenever this pissing contest is over. Money? Power? You know why people want it? Because it makes their own lives better. My life...my career...it's not about money. It's not about power. That's not what I stand for. What makes me the villain is that I've learned, and I've accepted what everybody else in this business continues to deny: We go through life only to make our own situation better. We fight these wars, not for king and country, not for family and friends, not for God....but for ourselves. At our core, we are all heartless, selfish beings, Tom. We are creatures that should not exist.

Chuck pauses.

Chuck Matthews: So tonight? Tonight, one more hero wanders off into extinction. Tonight...win or lose...I promise you: This night will mark the end of your "chosen hero" Zack Lifer. There are no good guys in the world, Tom. And your precious "White Knight?" He's just as malleable...just as corruptible...just as rotten as anyone else....

Chuck's face falls, and he stares into Tom's eyes, no emotion on his face.

Chuck Matthews: "....even me."

Slowly, the Security falls in line, surrounding Chuck and escorting him down the hall, leaving Tom alone, staring at the floor.

We cut to backstage, one of the many long spiralling hallways. We hear the screech of wheels, till we see a suited figure roll into view in a wheel chair. The man has his head bowed, his suit as dark as midnight. The suit itself is disheveled, tatty and dusty, a thin black tie over a white shirt. It resembles the outfit of old that this man once wore when he was known as Reno. He strokes his short hair back, his eyes sunken and tired. The man known as Andreas Lasiewicz.

Andreas Lasiewicz: There is a change to the air… ever so familiar…

Those sunken eyes of the legendary Morning Star look up at an approaching figure. Lasiewicz’s body immediately tenses up, his hands balling up into fists, his teeth clenching tightly as those cold-blooded eyes of his become squinted. The one drawing his scorn is none other than the man who arguably put him in the chair to begin with.

Christum Furor: It’s been too long, Lasiewicz. There’s something different about you… I don’t know, I can’t quite put my finger on it. What could it be?

The madman cackles as he surveys the scene. With a condescending look etched on his facial features the EXODUS World Champion slowly drops down to a knee to look Andreas in the eyes, agitating him even further.

Christum Furor: There… that’s better. At least now we’re at the same level for once.

Andreas Lasiewicz: Even in this state, trapped in this broken body of mine, I’ll always be on a higher level than you.

Andreas lets a small grin appear on his face.

Andreas Lasiewicz: Your taunts are pointless, they mean nothing. I have heard them all before from better and worse. And yet you still feel the need to send them forth. Is this how you are focusing yourself for the end, Furor? Is this what is going to put you in the zone? Attempting to taunt a broken, old man? Is that how it works for you?

The Michigander registers Andreas’ words, putting a hand underneath his chin as he contemplates his response.

Christum Furor: Oh my dearest Lasiewicz, if I wanted to taunt you I would merely do this.

With a vindictive grin plastered on his visage, Furor slowly regains a vertical base, raising his hand into the sky as if to tell Lasiewicz to reach for it.

Christum Furor: Can you touch me, Lasiewicz? Can you reach the height I have ascended to? It appears you are unable to. It appears the famed Morning Star has become a shell of his former self. Oh how the mighty have fallen. Do you remember the days when you rode into EXODUS on your high horse like the hero you were heralded as. YOU were the ONE, Andreas. You were the lone ranger. The man who took the fight to Gods & Monsters by HIMSELF. At The Downfall of Us All the entire world watched you destroy the New Age with your bare hands.

Andreas continues to stare daggers at the World Champion as he continues to reminisce.

Christum Furor: Yet here you stand… or sit to be specific. Never to walk in glory again… never to walk that golden path you laid because the ground by which you marched to victory has been painted with the blood of your brothers and sisters… blood spilled by MY hands… a sea of blood predicted by MY clairvoyant… a future I promised YOU. But did you listen, Lasiewicz? Did you listen to my warnings… my heedings when I told you that we were heading for this? You did not. You were blinded by your hubris… trapped in the cognitive reality you created… perceptions of reality that were merely an illusion for I was always in control. You were the Sekigun’s greatest hope… their LAST hope… and now… now you must watch from the sidelines as a casualty of war… a war that I will end tonight just as I DESIGNED.

Christum grins devilishly, a look of “I told you so” written on his countenance as he completes his gloating.

Andreas Lasiewicz: The world works in mysterious ways, Furor. The scales tipped in your favor, weighed down by your allegiances and choices. You fell by my hands, the whole world saw. Yet the whole world never rallied by my side. And thus the situation I now find myself in.

Lasiewicz pauses, staring up at the man on top of EXODUS’ food chain.

Andreas Lasiewicz: But doesn’t everything fall eventually? Look at me, I certainly did. And one day so will you. So will Gods and Monsters. So will the Sekigun. And that day is today, Furor… Such a crying shame I will not be able to view that smile of yours wiping from your face.

Christum shakes his head in slight frustration and disbelief.

Christum Furor: You still don’t understand. Such a shame. I thought your current predicament would enlighten you to everything that is happening. The pain that you feel… or don’t feel, your current state of obscurity… I thought it would bring you clarity. It should. It should have opened your eyes, Lasiewicz. Everything that I said would happen from the moment I took on this divine crusade has come to fruition because my word is everlasting gospel. I guaranteed that you would fall and be forgotten by the people who claimed to love you the most. And where are they? Nowhere to be found to lend you a hand in your darkest moment. You were just a tool… a tool that got old and was discarded accordingly. You were never irreplaceable… you were merely expendable.

Furor scoffs to himself, a lighthearted glow coming over his face as he continues to torment his fallen rival.

Christum Furor: And yet pass mistakes are being repeated. It’s almost as if they have learned nothing of your demise… of your fate… a fate I sewed for you. Your brother stands in your shoes, Lasiewicz. He stands on the battlefield wearing Jonathan’s flag… and he WILL be buried… because that’s the destiny I’ve created. From day one I’ve orchestrated everything that has happened in EXODUS. From the moment I stepped into this company I sparked the changing of the guard… the change in a way of thinking… a change in culture. And as my followers grew so did my power. My power began to transcend this world as I took the likeness of my creator. You could have stood here with us Lasiewicz… you could have stood here with me as a God among men and the shepherd of New Age but you were too closed minded… and too set in your ways to accept me as your savior.

Christum kneels back down now, his eyes narrowing with cold malice as he stares into Andreas’ hate-filled pupils.

Christum Furor: And now… now you see what you could’ve had… what you could’ve been. Christopher will fail just as you did because I cannot be slain by a mortal man. Evolution dictates that I can only be defeated by someone like me... and I have NO equal. I am indivisible… I am HOMOSUPERIOR. I am the one who was born to break the cycle of hatred that binds us… that has confined you to this wheelchair… that has forsaken us. Tonight the cycle ends, Lasiewicz. I can see it… I can see it through her eyes. As long as Sally can see the future I can shape it and for that reason and THAT reason alone I will NEVER fall.

Christum’s words reverberate in the back of Lasiewicz’s mind. There’s unyielding conviction in the World Champion’s eyes. He wholeheartedly believes in his doctrine, in every word that has escaped his silver tongue. Andreas pauses for a moment, considering this speech thoughtfully.

Andreas Lasiewicz: And what if her view is blinded? What if it becomes clouded? What if… she sees what I have seen? The end of all things and the beginning of nothing of all? If out of all this darkness there is no light… None… Nothing at all. What then, Furor? What THEN? What would you do? Where would you go when blinded from your path? What will you do when no one is there to hold your hand and tell you…

Lasiewicz laughs mightily.

Andreas Lasiewicz: All Will Be Well…

He laughs once more, this time more thunder.

Andreas Lasiewicz: NONE of it will be well, Furor. None of it. But you just don’t see. It won’t be well. It won’t be hell. It won’t be anything. Just an endless purgatory.

The madman comes back to a stand now, visibly angered by Andreas’ spiel. Instead of responding Furor merely smirks, then laughs under his breath before slowly sauntering out of the shot, leaving Lasiewicz to ponder his thoughts.

Seth Ericson: Can this stuff be over now? These two are just creeping me out.

Dick Morosi: It's entirely possible we're going to see the end of one of those two tonight, especially as we creep closer to our main event.

Seth Ericson: Please say it's both, because I feel uneasy after that.

Dick Morosi: Well let me give you a reason to feel good again! The house was torn down over the last couple of matches, let's see if it gets blown away in this next match! It's TLC 3! The Generation of Miracles try to defend their titles against Trouble, Dragons Unleashed, and the Fight Kings! It's next!



The lights in the arena dim as smoke starts to fill up the entrance way and ramp as a piano begins to play. With the sign of smoke comes fire on the EXO-Screen and then as the music stops, up on the giant video wall...



Suddenly, the music kicks back in for the remainder of the intro of "Satellite" by Rise Against!



As the chorus begins, out from the back, standing amidst the smoke and simulated fire is "The Dropkick King" Adrien Cochrane!

David Zinkus: Coming down the aisle, from New Orleans, Louisiana, weighing in at 190 pounds...HE IS THE DROPKICK KING, ADRIENNNNNNNN COCHRANE!

That's why we won't back down
We won't run and hide
Yeah, 'cause these are the things that we can't deny
I'm passing over you like a satellite
So catch me if I fall

Adrien surveys the crowd, nodding and he finally pumps his fist, looking like he's slamming it down toward the ground, eliciting huge sparks of pyro that ignite from the top of the entrance way in time with his gesture! Starting to walk down the ramp, he nods his head in time with the music as he reaches his hands out, starting to slap hands with the fans who are cheering for him. Getting to the ring, he instantly hops up and practically slides across the apron before climbing up to the top turnbuckle to raise his arms to the crowd!



As the second time through the chorus starts, Adrien steps into the ring and moves across from where he enters, coming over to salute the other side of the audience! Continuing to salute the audience, Adrien finally hops down and starts to remove his shirt, looking intensely at the other side of the ring as he starts to mentally prepare for the match.

The arena goes dark for a second, as the video starts up we hear Devour the Day’s “Good Man” crank up.

I want to be a good man, I want to see God

I want to be faithful but I know that I’m not

I want to be a good man, I want to do right

I don’t wanna be a criminal for the rest of my life

Jaime Alejandro comes out of the back and we see him looking towards the ring. The crowd looks at him, wondering what he’s going to do next. He gets down on his knees and says a prayer to himself.

Everything that I've done before

Has brought me back down to my knees

I’m crying out to you, Lord

It’s getting harder and harder to see

If there’s good left in me?

Is there any good left in..ME!!!

He pulls off the Hail Mary gesture and springs up. He punches towards the air as the crowd holds the hands out, trying to touch him. He holds his hands out, going slowly towards the ring. As he does, we see him jump up onto the apron. He then vaults himself in, waiting for the match to begin.

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, Wulf to the left, 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, “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, Stephen 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 lifting their arms in salute to the crowd
again. 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, before peeling off back to their corner.
To be added to TROUBLE page, not replacing existing entrance.



Misako Honjoh's voice fills the auditorium:


But before "Cum On Feel The Noize" can kick in a burst of static hails the arrival of a different song. As the lights drop a brilliant spotlight shines down on the stage, lighting up a white screen crackling with multicoloured fire.


A single figure emerges, a long white robe billowing around her along with her halo of long black hair.


The lights drop away entirely now, leaving us with nothing but static, more music and the flashes of cameras around the auditorium.






A huge cheer goes up as Glass Candy's "Candy Castle" finally hits! As the beat kicks in the lights explode back on, along with a burst of white pyro, to reveal Evangelista standing onstage. She smiles faintly as she surveys the crowd and points up at the Tag Team Championship belts, hanging high above the ring.



There's another cheer as she's joined by her best friend tag team partner of many years, Laurel Anne Hardy. Both women are in new matching ring attire of long tights, long armbands and crop top, sparkling holographically and printed with a psychedelic multicoloured firestorm design, with Seikigun trim. Although both are vibrantly and vividly colourful, Evangelista's outift leans slightly more towards blue and purple while Hardy's has more green and yellow to it. Both women's faces are painted to match, and swirled with glitter.


After a stage bow Laurel turns to the white screen behind them and punches through it, tearing a wide hole in it while Evangelista begins her slow walk to the ring, tagging fans' outstretched hands along the way. Laurel reaches through the hole and pulls through a wooden trolley, upon which rests a huge, colourful (and of course sparkly) birthday present. Hardy begins dragging it to ringside while Evangelista, already there, crosses herself and says a silent prayer as she stares up at the dangling titles.


Laurel slips the bow from the giant box and flips the lid off to reveal that it's filled with weapons - almost all of them prettied up with paint and glitter. Then the pair slide into the ring and run up opposite turnbuckles to pose.

David Zinkus: Representing The Asylum and hailing from the United Kingdom, at a combined weight of two hundred and eighty-one pounds... they are former EXODUS PRO Tag Team Champions... The Prodigal Daughter, Evangelista, and The Installation Event of the Millennium, Laurel Anne Hardy... DRAGONS! UNLEASHED!

Laurel tosses her trademark feather boa into the crowd, prompting a scrum to catch it as the two young women moonsault down to the ring and take bows.

The lights dim inside of the arena, the Tron beginning to display black and white frames of two very different women beating opponents senseless with various amount of strikes, as a fierce beat alongside a low whistle is heard over the PA system, an inflatable NFL-like tunnel on the center of the ramp as the lights begin to flash white, red and gold all over the arena, the spotlight shining on the tunnel as “Bring Da Ruckus” by the Wu-Tang Clan starts through the PA system and the RZA’s voice blasts through the system.

BRING DA MOTHERFUCKIN RUCKUS!
BRING DA MOTHERFUCKIN RUCKUS!
BRING DA MOTHER, BRING DA MOTHERFUCKIN RUCKUS!
BRING DA MOTHERFUCKIN RUCKUS!

Bursting out from the inflatable tunnel to the roar of the crowd are Leander Apollo and Vanessa Cade. Both are geared up in their respective attires made of gold and black colors with red trim in Leander’s and white in Vanessa’s. As Cade executes a 360 spin with her right elbow leading, Leander raises his fist and hooks his arm around Vanessa’s as streamers of gold, black, white and red fire off behind and over them. With that both competitors make their way to the ring, staring down the ramp with every intent of making things happen.

David Zinkus: (Introducing first/And their opponents)...weighing in at a combined weight of three hundred and seventy-five pounds, they are Vanessa Cade and Leander Apollo and they are…the Generation of Miracles!!!!!!!!!!

The Generation of Miracles get inside the squared circle, the crowd showing their support accordingly as Vanessa and Leander ascend to the top rope on each side, Vanessa bringing her arms high up and gloves together to form her own logo within it while Apollo extends his arms to the side, basking in the crowd support. The two hop out of the top rope and begin their preparations for the contest ahead.

Dick Morosi: And here we go, TLC 3! Can it top last year’s official Match of the Year?

Seth Ericson: We sure are going to find out! We may be minus one team on the night, but we have one more than last year. This is going to be epic!

The referee calls for the bell and the match is officially underway, though each team are still stood in their respected corners. Their eyes dance between the tag titles high above, and each other. The teams now begin talking trash, but not yet fighting. Laurel starts smiling as she spits out more talk while Vanessa cockily does the same. Jaime and Adrien stay silent. Leander is focused on the prize, whilst Trouble merely give each other a nod. The teams start to circle each other in the middle of the ring, slowly going round and around, glancing at each other, then the belts.

Dick Morosi: No one wants to make the first move.

Seth Ericson: The Dragons seem more eager, to be honest. Generation of Miracles seem a more focused.

Dick Morosi: The Fight Kings look ready, and Trouble seem right at home!

Seth Ericson: They are TLC veterans within EXODUS, being part of the big match last year.

Laurel stops and runs towards Vanessa, who meets her in the middle of the ring. The two tie up in the collar and elbow. Vanessa breaks free and connects with DDT. Trouble have gone after the Fight Kings, brawling away with them as Leander and Evangelista exit the ring and push in the ladder. Hardy is holding her head as Vanessa brings her to her feet before whipping her into the ropes. She ducks a clothesline attempt by Laurel, and on the way back, Vanessa hits a drop toe hold, right onto a chair pushed in by Leander!

Dick Morosi: And face meets steel! Amazing team work there.

[Seth Ericson: This match is going to be simply brutal!

Leander starts to feed a ladder in, lengthwise, but Wulf dodges out of the way of Cochrane, then jumps on the end of the ladder. The other end rises up and cracks Apollo in the face. He falls to the mat holding his face as Wulf pulls the ladder into the ring. Wulf picks up the ladder, but as he turns around with it, Cochrane runs up and drop kicks the ladder right into Wulf's face, busting him open as well! Wulf is down in the ring, with the ladder on top of him. Evangelista hops up on the top turnbuckle and looks down at Wulf, who is about 5 feet from her. Evangelista jumps off and delivers a diving knee drop. She rolls off the ladder, holding onto her knee as she rolls around the ring. As she gets up though, she is met by a ferocious BLITZ from Lenton!

Seth Ericson: BLITZ!!! BLITZ!!! BLITZ!!!

Lenton lets out a roar, but is then quickly felled by Jaime’s Sancti! The Fight Kings are the only ones left standing, and they immediately set up the ladder to attempt to claim victory. Jaime begins to climb up, Adrien holding the ladder in place.

Dick Morosi: Cochrane guarding that ladder and keeping it in place, this could be over real quick.

Seth Ericson: Jaime is looking a little slow out of the blocks though!

Jaime is getting closer and closer. Vanessa is the first to charge Adrien, but is met with an Adrien Cutter! Lenton follows suit, and is met with a Cutter! Wulf. Cutter! Evangelista. Cutter! Leander, Cutter!

Dick Morosi: Cochrane is going wild!

[Seth Ericson: And an Adrien Cutter for you! And an Adrien Cutter for you! And an Adrien Cutter for everyone!

But he can’t quite get to Laurel, who springboards off the top rope and dropkicks the ladder, sending it crashing down and Jaime flies right out of the ring and crashes through the Japanese commentary table!

Dick Morosi: OH MY GOD!

[Seth Ericson: …

Adrien’s face turns to one of horror, matching the entire front row of the audience. He sprints of the ring, ignoring the match and checking on his tag partner, flashing the ‘X’ sign as he does so.

Dick Morosi: Jaime is hurt, and hurt badly, he may be out of this match.

[Seth Ericson: Looks that way. The medical team are on their way out now.

Laurel slides out of the ring herself, but the artist is looking through her box of tricks. She slides a sparkly, pink chair into the ring, but then is cornered by Vanessa. Laurel then throws what seems to be a custard pie right into Cade’s face. This brings a laugh from the crowd, until it is drowned out by Vanessa’s screams.

Dick Morosi: That’s no ordinary custard pie!

[Seth Ericson: It’s loaded! And the secret ingredient is thumbtacks!

Cade rolls around on the floor, trying to pull the tacks out of her bloody face. Hardy then picks up the ringsteps, measuring Cade up to drop them on her head.

Dick Morosi: Don’t do it, Laurel! Please!

[Seth Ericson: She’s hesitating, Dick. I don’t think she’s going to go that far!

As Laurel struggles within herself about what to do, Wulf has begun brawling with Apollo. They are going back and forth, back and forth, until Leander charges and is dumped over the top rope right on top of Laurel, crashing the ring steps right on top of her!

Dick Morosi: And the Welsh Wonder has been squashed!

Seth Ericson: Ouch!

Evangelista sprints to Lenton, who simply flapjacks her high in the air. Wulf charges right under her and delivers a vile headbutt that busts her wide open!

Dick Morosi: We’ve not seen that since last year!

Seth Ericson: A VILE headbutt from the hardest skull in the business. She is bleeding like a pig!

Trouble set up the second ladder under the belts, but don't ascend, instead Wulf waits for Leander to get back in the ring. Wulf runs towards Apollo and performs a Falcon Punch, but Apollo catches Erikssen's right arm and Leoplexs him over the ropes, since he was only about two feet from them. Wulf grabs a hold of one of the ropes as he tumbles over, but he still falls to the mat. Cade, slowly recovering on the outside is there to greet him with some stomps on the back as Wulf is trying to get up. Lenton charges Apollo with the BLITZ, but leaps right over him, sending Lenton out of the ring and he crashes right into Cade! Leander looks shocked, and that loss of concentration allows Evangelista to hit him with the Headbreaker. She is now starting to climb the ladder, which Trouble so conveniently placed under the contract. She steps up one step and starts her climb towards the top. Wulf, holding his back, has managed to roll away. Laurel starts to get up, but Wulf grabs a pink chair with ‘All You Need Is Love’ spray painted on it. He shrugs then blasts her with it, sending her right down to the mat. Inside the ring, Evangelista is only four rungs above the ring and only about one or two more away from the belts. Wulf slides into the ring, with the chair. He approaches the ladder and swings the chair onto The Prodigal Daughter's back. Eva freezes in her place as Wulf drives another one into the back again. Wulf drops the chair and starts to push the ladder over and Evangelista, having nowhere else to go, holds on tight as the ladder falls. It strikes the ropes and she is forced to let go. She bounces off the ropes and lands inside the ring with a thud.

Dick Morosi: This match is getting out of hand!

Seth Ericson: There’s bodies laying everywhere!

The medical team is checking on Jaime, Adrien screaming for help. Lenton looks over, looking quite concerned as well. Back in the ring, Wulf picks Evangelista off the mat and whips her over the ropes and out. Apollo has just gotten back up and ducks a clothesline attempt by Wulf and when he comes back around, and hits his own Superman Punch on the unsuspecting Erikksen. With Wulf on the mat, Apollo picks up Wulf and hits a Zaku II on him. He picks up Wulf again, though a little sluggish, and brings him to the ladder. Leander sets up and connects on a Leoplex that sends Wulf onto the ladder, back first. He holds his back as he rolls onto his stomach. On the outside, Cade has floored Lenton with the Golden Goal! With a sudden burst of energy, she climbs up to the top, then jumps off and hits The Golden Experience on Wulf's head!

Dick Morosi: What a move! GoM take control!

Seth Ericson: The champs look set to retain!

Just when it looks like GoM have it, a revitalised, bloody and fired up Laurel charges into the ring with her pink chair. She clocks Leander out with it, then swings it down onto Vanessa's head, following it up by cracking Wulf’s back several times, each time worse than the first. She puts the chair down after three swings on each of them, then and rolls Wulf's limp body off the ladder. She pulls the ladder out and sets it up under the belts. She makes sure it's aligned perfectly and starts her ascension.

Dick Morosi: Laurel has seen her own blood and has a second wind!

Seth Ericson: It’s really fired her up, Dick!

She climbs to the very top, the belts within her reach as the fans cheer her on. Evangelista roars her on, but Laurel suddenly stops, looking down at the fallen bodies of GoM and Trouble all laid out next to each other. Something clicks in her mind… and she leaps as flashbulbs go off!

Dick Morosi: WOW!!! The crowd are going insane!

Seth Ericson: You rarely see that! A corkscrew double rotation shooting star press, she calls Tsunami Wildfire. Ever the artist, she might have had the match won, but instead she lands on almost the entire field with that amazing move.

Everyone is out for the count after that phenomenal move, Evangelista with her head in her hands. She looks up to the belts as a ‘Holy Shit’ chant starts. She picks up the ladder, sets it up and begins to climb. Lenton is the first to move, and he heads towards the ladder, very slowly. Eva is one rung of the ladder away from being in reach of the belts. Lenton reels the chair behind him and swings forwards, cracking her right in the back. She slips off the ladder, but grabs hold of one of the rungs and has only fallen two. Lenton now has a better swing and cracks Evangelista in the head with the chair. She falls off the ladder and Lenton drops the chair on her face. Lenton starts his climb up the ladder. After three rungs, he stops and turns around. He looks down at Evangelista lying on the mat with the chair on top of her. He hops off the ladder and hits an elbow drop on Evangelista's chair covered body. Lenton rolls off and hugs his arm as Evangelista flops around the ring from the pain of the impact.

Dick Morosi: Are any of these great competitors going to be the same after this match?

[Seth Ericson: We’re going to have an injured list a mile long at this rate!

Wulf is the first to get up and he eyes up the ladder. He starts to climb the ladder, one rung at a time, very slowly. He gets within arms reach of the belts, so he climbs up two more rungs. He grabs the belt! He reaches up with the other hand to pull the belts off, but Cade is up and starts to tip the ladder back and forth. Erikksen lets go and grabs on to the ladder so he won't fall. Vanessa tips the ladder one last time and it goes falling over. Wulf jumps off at the last minute, but his left leg gets caught in the top and middle ropes and he's hung upside down.

Dick Morosi:And Wulf is trapped! This could be Cade’s chance!

As Cade tries to climb the ladder, Leander walks up to Wulf starts to stomp on his chest and face. He picks up the another ladder and rams it into Wulf's chest. The first time we hear Wulf scream out in pain. The second time hits him in the face and we hear another scream of pain. The third time he hits him in the knee, but Wulf holds in his pain, then starts getting very angry and barks off at Leander Apollo, but he doesn't care what he has to say. Leander hits Wulf in the face one more time to shut him up. Erikssen now isn't moving and appears to be unconscious. Apollo undoes his leg and lets him lie unconscious on the side of the ring. Apollo holds onto the ladder to aid Vanessa climb up. She is now at the top and is starting to fiddle with the belt, trying to get it off. Then, all of a sudden, the ladder comes out from under her and she falls right to the mat. Lenton stands next to Apollo, breathing heavily with a pissed off look in his eye. He picks up Apollo and hits a devastating Game Changer, then picks up Apollo and nails the 3:00! Lenton then sets up the ladder again and slowly begins to climb, but he is met on the other side by Evangelista. They begin to trade blows at the top, one after the other. The Big L seems to be getting the advantage, but Evangelista manages to duck one, pulling Lenton through the rungs as he tries to stay balanced before locking in the Lime Street Loop!

Dick Morosi: She has it locked in through the ladder, there is no escaping this one!

[Seth Ericson: But there are no submissions in this match!

Lenton is in agony, his partner unable to help him. Evangelista keeps the hold locked in on the big man. Cade is getting up below, and she picks up the prone Wulf. She picks up Wulf's body and locks in the Golden Triangle! At this moment, Apollo locks in the Constellation Clutch on Laurel!

Dick Morosi: More holds locked in!

Seth Ericson: HERE COMES COCHRANE!

Cochrane returns out of nowhere! He nails the combo of Apollo and Hardy with the Flight 182! He sprints back to the top rope once more and lands the Ace-Inator on Cade and Wulf. Then he springboards off of the top rope with the Crescent City Connection to break up Lenton and Evangelista! Lenton is still trapped on the ladder, but is yanked down hard with an Inverted Adrien Cutter off the ladder!

Dick Morosi: And Adrien has cleaned house once more!

[Seth Ericson: But he isn’t going for the victory, he’s looking to do more damage!

The fans roar Adrien on, as he sets up a table in the corner of the ring. He places Lenton on top of it, then sets up another table, placing Apollo on that one. In the next corner he sets up a third, placing on Evangelista on top of that one. He then begins to make his climb.

Dick Morosi:He has a choice of three targets right now!

Seth Ericson: But Laurel may have something to do with his choice!

Laurel has indeed climbed up the other side and begins to brawl with Adrien, harsh knife edge chops being exchanged. Right beneath Adrien comes Vanessa Cade, who starts clubbing Adrien in the back. The double team assault from the two warrior women is too much for him, then Cade hits a vicious German suplex that sends him crashing down on top of Lenton and through the table.

Dick Morosi: Oh My Good God in Heaven!

Seth Ericson: Right through the table!

Cade kept her legs hooked on the ladder, but as she rises Laurel hooks her up and gives her a release vertical suplex right onto Leander Apollo!

Dick Morosi: And another table is smashed.

Laurel has no time to marvel at her work, however, as Wulf has grabbed her by the legs, following it up with a powerbomb right on top of Evangelista!

Seth Ericson: And another!

Wulf resets up the ladder in the middle of the ring and starts to climb it. Adrien is the first to get up and climbs it as well. He gets to the top and Adrien and Wulf start to battle for the top position. Punch for punch these two are matching it to get the advantage to grab the belts. Adrien lands a punch on Erikksen right in the face, but it doesn't fade Wulf. Erikksen hits Cochrane in the face with a hard headbutt, and Cochrane starts to slide down the ladder and he lands on his backside on the ring and just sits there and then he falls onto his back. Wulf starts to grab the belts, but the ladder gets tipped over, Wulf crashing down to the canvas.

Dick Morosi: I thought he had it…

Seth Ericson: Wait a minute… JAIME!!

Jaime is laid out, the paramedics trying to get the injured man out of the match. Lenton now has the ladder set up in the middle of the ring and he starts to climb up the ladder. Evangelista finds that The Big L is almost up to the titles. She climbs the ladder quickly and beats Lenton to the punch, literally. She lays another right hand on Lenton's face, but Steve stays on it. Laurel comes into the ring and tosses up a chair covered in sparkles to Evangelista, and she hits him in the head with the chair and he goes somewhat limp on the top of the ladder. She grabs a hold of The Big L and starts to set up for a possible superplex off the top of the ladder. She lifts, but Lenton holds on to the ladder. Laurel climbs up to help her, and they both lift again, but the same thing happens. The Generation of Miracles each grab a hold the Dragons Unleashed in powerbomb positions.

Dick Morosi: AND DOWN THEY COME!

Seth Ericson: ALL OF THEM CRASHING DOWN TO THE MAT!

They all come crashing down to the canvas as the fans go absolutely mental, even more so when Cochrane and Wulf begin to climb the ladder slowly. The fans are willing them on as they race to the top. One rung, two rungs, three rungs, four. As they make it to them top they begin to trade blows. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Adrien. Wulf. Adrien. Wulf. Adrien. Wulf. Wulf starts to punch at Adrien's stomach, and eventually, Cochrane’s legs go. But in one last gasp, Adrien spins around and nails the Adrien Cutter off of the ladder!

Dick Morosi: And a huge Cutter… WAIT!

Seth Ericson: WULF GRABBED THE BELTS AS HE CAME DOWN!!!

The audience go absolutely mental as Trouble are declared the winners, Wulf laying there surrounded by bodies as he holds onto the two belts. He then crawls over to Lenton, placing a belt on top of him.

WINNERS (and NEW EXODUS Pro Tag Team Champions): Trouble

Dick Morosi: My God, what an amazing match that was! It certainly surpassed even the original TLC from the Autumn Effect 1.

Seth Ericson: Of course it did! This is EXODUS, we always one up ourselves and god damn did we do that tonight!

Dick Morosi: I couldn't agree more, Seth. Every single one of the wrestlers in that ring right now deserves every bit of cheer they're getting, but especially TROUBLE, our new tag team champions. Right now, is a big moment of celebration for them.

Seth Ericson: Uh...I dunno about that.

Dick Morosi: Oh no...fans, we need you to notice this. From the crowd a few figures have appeared, hopping the guardrail. I can see Shozo Arino....Aries Reed...

Seth Ericson: Devan Whitmore and....and GRENDEL.

The four of them hop onto the ring ropes, and for a moment nothing happens. Then, slowly, Shozo raises his hand. With a gesture he indicates it over his three fellows...then points into the ring. And they all flow in. A few of the competitors have managed to get onto their feet by now, and are met with a fury by the Revo students. Adrien has only started to get to his feet when Devan Whitmore delivers a brutal Kessel Run to the former World Champ, taking him down. Vanessa Cade tries to get the attention of Aries Reed, only to hear something behind her and turn only to meet a Crash Love from Shozo. Aries locks his hands around the arms of the prone Laurel, lifting her up and nailing a Dragon Suplex. And Wulf...Wulf meets GRENDEL. Or, rather, his boot, as the teacher is smashed in the mouth with the former student's boot before he can truly get to his feet, and grabbed by the throat in the next moment and lifted up high, only to be brought down straight away with a massive clothesline.

Just like that, everyone lies still in the ring, besides the four insurgents. Aries walks over to the Big L, picking the tag title Wulf had laid across him up and looking at it with a grin. He looks to his friend GRENDEL and holds the belt up. The camera captures in that moment something truly shocking, as the hate-filled face of GRENDEL briefly breaks into the briefest, sickest of smiles, as he gives a small nod to his friend, reaching down to pick up the tag belt Wulf lost in the fight. Shozo looks at them proudly, before looking up at the ladder, still standing despite all the fighting. He slowly begins to ascend it, coming to rest sitting on top of the ladder, pulling a microphone from his trunks, and beginning to speak.

Shozo Arino: What happened Saturday, was a demonstration. Tonight, however, is a declaration of intent.

The crowd continues to boo him, which he does not seem fazed by.

Shozo Arino: I want you all to use your imagination. Take this journey with me, use your minds. Imagine what wrestling would be like if it never evolved. What would it be like? It'd still be stuck in carnivals, as sideshow attractions, hooking unknowing "marks" to trick out of a couple of dollars. There would be no grand stages, no epic pyro, no barn-busting classics. You would not be sitting here tonight, watching this event. Imagine that.

The crowd's booing seems to die a tad, as the crowd seems to start to imagine what he's said. He nods along.

Shozo Arino: More than that, imagine if it only evolved once, and then stayed the way it was. We'd have these big grand stages, but we'd be locked into one type of wrestler who can succeed. Unless you're a big, muscle man, you will never reach the top no matter how hard you try. Your favorite wrestlers of today, you'd never see. There'd be no Christian Kanes, no Jon Collins, no Adrien Cochranes....certainly no women, like Lexy Chapel or Sally Talfourd. Imagine that.

The crowd is mostly silent now, letting the words soak in. Shozo smiles from atop the ladder.

Shozo Arino: You're starting to see now, right? Evolution is crucial to wrestling! Change must happen, or all things will stagnate! When the generation that enacted a great change gets too old, they must be removed. It is true of all things, they will inevitably become that which they fought in their youth. They will become the ones trying to stop change. And that is what is happening now, this very moment. We have reached that moment in time where it is time for that change, where wrestling must have it occur or all things will decay! The generation before us, the one that changed this business for the better, they must now be removed, so that the next great change can occur.

He sits silent for a moment, looking straight up at the night sky, contemplating some unknown thought. When he speaks again, his next sentence is full of an unspeakable bitterness.

Shozo Arino: The mistakes this generation has made, are innumerable...and unforgiveable. To make sure those mistakes cannot be repeated again, as they have been so many times over this generation, change must occur now. It cannot be change that occurs gradually, over time. It must be swift. It must be vicious. It must be unrelenting. This is a fight that must be fought, or we will all lose. For the future, we must destroy what currently stands. We must evolve, past the limitations of this generation, for the good of all. Those who can adapt, will continue on. Those who cannot, will find themselves in need of a new means of living. It's up to them.

He pauses again, letting his words sink into the crowd before he continues again.

Shozo Arino: You know, I paid attention to what was being said on Twitter, the day after our demonstration. Some of them spoke of battle lines being drawn, a war beginning. I sit here today, to tell you that what we are doing is no war. In fact let me state it emphatically...directly. This is not a war...

He stands on top of the ladder, to look down on the crowd and the broken bodies around his comrades, who face the crowd proudly.

Shozo Arino: ...this is a REVOLUTION.

He drops his microphone and remains standing on the ladder, as the REVOLUTION members below continue to look into the cameras with looks of new found focus & determination, and in the case of GRENDEL, hatred.

Dick Morosi: I...I don't know what to say about this.

Seth Ericson: It certainly gives new meaning to the term Youth Movement.

Dick Morosi: It does indeed. This...REVOLUTION making it's ideals clear, at the expense of the TLC competitors, especially the new champions.

Seth Ericson: With what happened with GRENDEL and Wulf, I think that was intentional.

Dick Morosi: It very well might be, Seth. For now, let's go backstage.

The feed cuts backstage to a shot of Sally Talfourd sitting before a long glamour mirror. There's a gloomy, ominous aura encompassing her as if a black cloud looms over-head. Her eyes look dark, completely void of spirit as if the light had been drained from them. Her facial features are vacant of any expression, any emotion. Her hair, normally straight and combed is wild and disheveled. Though she wears the same flesh and bones for all intents and purposes Sally is just not there.

She continues to stare into the mirror as the sound of a door being opened is heard in the background. Next come long, plodding footsteps that grow louder and louder as the figure they belong to grows closer. Suddenly, the once unidentified entity becomes visible to all, and more importantly, Sally as his visage is captured in the mirror. The likeness that is reflected is that of EXODUS World Champion, Christum Furor.

Christum Furor: Sally...

Christum's solemn words travel into the atmosphere but seem to vanish into space. Sally doesn't even acknowledge his presence, it's almost as if she doesn't know he's even there. She herself exhibits no discernible signs of humanity. Talfourd remains motionless, simply staring into the looking glass.

Christum Furor: Sally I -

The madman is at a complete loss for words. The expression on his countenance is one of remorse, a feeling he had never displayed before. Furor awkwardly extends his hand toward her shoulder; however, just as the protruding limb comes close enough to her shoulder-blade Talfourd suddenly speaks.

Sally Talfourd: You lied to me...

Her voice startles Christum, causing him to retract his hand in slight dread. Her tone is devoid of anger, or hatred, feelings the World Champion expected to be greeted with. Her voice is merely somber. She remains motionless, continuing to look into the void, her eyes completely unblinking.

Sally Talfourd: I trusted you. I believed in you. I accepted you as my savior and followed you because you said you would show me the way.

Furor's stance deteriorates, as he is almost crippled by what he hears.

Sally Talfourd: But you were not who I thought you were. Who you said you were. You were supposed to be different. You said that you would never hurt me but you did. You hurt me, Christum. You hurt me with your lies. With your deceit. With your hands.

Christum brings his hands to his face. They tremble as he stares at them with fear and disdain.

Sally Talfourd: You were supposed to be my shepherd. My beacon of hope. My light. Why Christum... why did you hurt me? Why did you abandon me? Why did you do this to me?

Christum's apologetic look intensifies. His mouth moves to speak, but his words tremble.

Christum Furor: I didn't want to hurt you Sally, but I had to. I did what I did because it was the only way to show you the truth. Jonathan never cared for you... not the way you wanted him to... not the way I did. Fiona wasn't your friend... she was jealous and envious of you... They did not love you, Sally. Not the way I did. I had to hurt you... I had to bring pain and misery into your soul so that you could understand-

Furor stopped, frozen in time and space as he looks over his disciple. He grabs a damaged strand of her hair, almost saddened by what has become of her.

Christum Furor: So that you could understand how special you are. We as humans all have the capability to become more than what we are. We can evolve to transcend our homosapien brothers and sisters to become Homo-Superior. There's a hidden power locked deep within the recesses of our subconscious mind and to help you unlock your potential I had to destroy you... so that you could be born again.

He takes a deep breath, trying his best to make her understand his actions.

Sally Talfourd: Liar.

She says sharply yet almost in a hushed whisper, startling him once again.

Christum Furor: I tore you down Sally in order to recreate you. I gave you the gift of pain and taught you to harness it... I taught you to study and accept it... to learn from it... for pain is the key that unlocks the door to madness... and I liberated your madness... giving you the tools to free your mind and use it to its full capabilities. I helped you to ascend turning you into a deity... into a GODDESS.

Furor's hand finds its way onto Talfourd's face. Her visage is cold to him, as if she were lifeless like an automaton. Finally, Talfourd becomes animate as she gingerly holds his hand while he caresses her cheek with it.

Sally Talfourd: I... can't... you...you... you're a LIAR... you... you USED me... you... YOU betrayed me... I... I am dead inside... because of YOU.

Furor quakes apprehensively, and frantically spins Sally around to face him. With both hands placed around her face he stares into her eyes.

Christum Furor: No... NO! I did this to help you... to help me break the cycle and change this cruel world. I needed you, Sally. I needed you to feel my pain... to understand my pain... I needed you to so that you could become MORE than what you are... MORE than Sally Talfourd... MORE than The Last Magician... I NEEDED YOU TO BECOME MY CLAIRVOYANT.

There's a crazed look in Furor's eyes as he desperately tries to reach through to Sally, but to no avail. She doesn't respond; she merely remains stiff like a carcass.

Christum Furor: I NEEDED YOUR THIRD EYE SO THAT I COULD SEE THE FUTURE AND SHAPE IT!

Christum suddenly and violently begins to shake Talfourd, trying his best to snap her from her trance but his efforts are fruitless. She remains lost. Gone.

Christum Furor: FOR YOU SALLY. FOR US... SO THAT WE COULD CREATE THE NEW AGE... TOGETHER... A PERFECT DREAM WHERE WE WOULD NEVER FEEL THE PAIN OF ABANDONMENT... OF LONELINESS... OF DESOLATION EVER AGAIN!

He shakes her again and again, refusing to let his hold on her fade away.

Christum Furor: AND WE CAN DO IT... TONIGHT WE CAN ACHIEVE TRUE PEACE... BUT I NEED YOU SALLY... I NEED YOU TO TRUST ME... TO BELIEVE IN ME... TO TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE!!!

Furor eyes shine with bright madness as he stares into the windows to Sally's soul. Her body suddenly comes to life as she begins to rapidly convulse, her eyes simultaneously closing in response as her head hangs back awkwardly.

Sally Talfourd: I...

Furor tries to hold her steady, but struggles mightily as Talfourd appears to be going into shock, or at the worst, a seizure.

Sally Talfourd: I...

Panicking, Christum pulls her head forward, bringing her face toward his own. His fingers pinch the skin around her eyelids, and he stretches said skin in an effort to open her eyes. As her windows are reopened Sally's body becomes stable. Tears form in her dilated pupils as she stares into those of the frantic World Champion.

Sally Talfourd: I see darkness...

Furor releases her, his mouth agape in consternation and confusion, his eyes widened in disblief. He slowly and cautiously backs away as Talfourd's body remains upright now. She stares forward, eyes still locked on her savior, continuing to murmur the three words that have rocked the Michigander to his core.

Sally Talfourd: I see darkness...

Christum shakes his head again and again, visibly lost in translation, terrified by the uncertain future his beloved clairvoyant just predicted. Almost like a broken record, Sally repeats herself.

Sally Talfourd: I see darkness...

The madman, helpless and worried, backs out of the room. Sally Talfourd remains, staring into nothingness... murmuring deleriously.

Sally Talfourd: I see darkness...

Dick Morosi: Furor seems to have lost Sally Talfourd, and she her touch of reality, Seth.

Seth Ericson: However you interpreted her vision, it didn't sound good, Dick. But I know what does, our next contest.

Dick Morosi: This may be the most important match tonight. It's a battle for control of EXODUS' television rights and possibly the first step toward losing our way! Zack Lifer meets Chuck Matthews next!

Seth Ericson: Don't forget Jimmy Riley is the guest referee for this match...and that may not bode well for Lifer.

Dick Morosi: We'll find out, but let's hit the ring.



A brief flash of silence passes through the arena 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 white sweatshirt with his signature demented smiley face logo on the back, he makes his way down the stairs, high fiving a couple people on his way down.

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 Lifer 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. 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, a triumphant fist rising as high as he could, a laugh exiting his lips as a single golden colored firework shot diagonally on the stage, the location of its starting point mirroring the top turnbuckle he resided on as it screeched loudly as it cut across the arena air, another pop from the crowd.

Don't you care to see the difference I've made?
The camera zoomed out from the scene of Zack's arm raised with the firework shooting by swiftly in the background and watches as he gets on the outside apron again. He quickly hops the top rope effortlessly in one movement, his eyes searching the excited crowd as a smirk crosses his face. The sounds fade mid-lyric as he rests in his corner, looking anxiously at the crowd and back at the entrance ramp for the match to finally make some progress.

Dick Morosi: Nicholas Gray selected Zack Lifer as his representative for this match, and put everything on the line. EXODUS, Lifer’s status in “detention” from Cleon Gray, everything is on the shoulders of Zack Lifer…

Seth Ericson: You think Jonathan Collins is okay with this?

Dick Morosi: Honestly Seth? I think he’s been more focused on his own affairs, but he certainly wouldn’t be.

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.

Dick Morosi: For “The Smartest Man in Wrestling,” what’s at stake is his job here in EXODUS. He’s put that up, clearly confident that he would win here tonight, and essentially gain control of the company wholesale.

Seth Ericson: Why wouldn’t he be? He’s beaten Zack Lifer before, he’s got an incredibly high IQ, and oh yeah...he picked the referee!

The horns break into the static noise of the crowd, and more than a fair share of the audience rises to their feet, boos beginning to sprinkle down in the arena. The lights have dimmed, but haven't gone completely out, as a single spotlight rests on the curtain. After mere seconds, Jay-Z's voice can be heard, heralding the Death of Auto-Tune;



Jimmy Riley bursts through the curtain, arms raised as his torso is clad in the black and white referee’s stripes. He feigns surprise at the boos from the crowd, before continuing to the ring.



Reaching ringside, Jimmy walks around to the far side of the ring, hoisting himself up to the apron. After looking out at the crowd, Riley nods at David Zinkus, then climbs up to the second rope, still on the outside of the ring.

David Zinkus: Now entering the ring, from Cleveland, Ohio...now residing in San Diego, California! He is tonight’s special guest referee...JIMMY...RILEY!



Jimmy hops down into the ring, walking right over to Chuck Matthews as the two share a smile and a handshake. Riley then proceeds across the ring, offering a similar, yet somehow less genuine smile to Zack Lifer, along with the offer of a handshake. Lifer simply looks at Jimmy’s hand, then back at his face, before continuing to prepare for the match.

Dick Morosi: Jimmy Riley’s fiancee was saved by Zack Lifer, from the hands of Christum Furor. Jimmy Riley was here the day EXODUS opened its doors, he’s engaged to Fiona Rourke’s cousin for goodness sakes!

Seth Ericson: Yet here we are, and you could see it just then; Riley and Matthews are on the same page. Riley and Lifer? Not so much.

The bell rings, and while Zack Lifer has his sights set on bull rushing Matthews, it’s Jimmy Riley who steps in his way, seemingly insisting on the two locking up in a traditional collar and elbow tie-up. Zack shoots a glare at Jimmy, but reluctantly stands waiting. The two combatants lock horns, and immediately, Lifer pushes Chuck back into the corner, throwing a series of right hands as soon as he can get them free! But only a few punches in, his arm is caught by Jimmy Riley, who pulls him away, preventing Lifer from connecting with any more! This time Lifer is more vocal, arguing with the “special referee.”

Dick Morosi: This is ridiculous!

Seth Ericson: No, Dick, this is WRESTLING. Jimmy Riley isn’t here to see these two punch each others lights out, he’s here to referee a WRESTLING match!

Dick Morosi: And I think...I think that plays right into Chuck Matthews’ gameplan, Seth. The more Zack Lifer has to wrestle, the more predictable he really has to be. And that’s the name of his game, being that hard to gauge, mercurial brawler.

While they’re arguing (both Dick & Seth and Jimmy & Zack), Chuck takes this opportunity to slip around Lifer and hit him with a backdrop suplex! He quickly climbs on top for a cover;

One…

Two-Kickout!

Seth Ericson: See? A fair handed count from Jimmy Riley!

Dick Morosi’s only response is a grumble as Chuck Matthews hooks in a side headlock on a rising Lifer, keeping him under control. Lifer pulls his way to his feet, pushing Chuck back into the ropes before sending him off across; on the rebound, Lifer drops down, letting Chuck hop over, then leapfrogs upon his second return. On Chuck’s third trip back, Zack Lifer is waiting with a deep arm drag, which he holds onto with an armbar! Chuck is quick to scramble to the ropes, where Jimmy Riley is almost militant in his count to get Lifer to release the hold! Again, Zack releases to prevent the disqualification, but is quickly in the face of the referee as the two trade words.

Dick Morosi: This isn’t fair at all!

Seth Ericson: What’s not fair about it? Chuck Matthews was in the ropes, Zack Lifer needed to release the hold!

Chuck is back to his feet, and spins Lifer around, hitting a signature hiptoss and following Lifer down to lock in an armbar of his own! This time it’s Lifer’s turn to reach the ropes...and Jimmy Riley does seem a bit more lax in his count to Chuck, giving him ample time to let Lifer go. He even gets a stomp in before he is led away by the referee! Chuck takes a moment to raise his arms, much to the chagrin of the fans, who shower boos upon him.

Seth Ericson: ...Alright, that looked a bit suspect. Dick, we might be screwed.

Lifer gets to his feet, and Chuck is right back on the attack, grabbing him around the head and beginning a muay thai assault of elbows and knees! Lifer is able to block a couple, but most get through before he can grab one of Chuck’s thrown knees and turn it into a dragon screw leg whip! The crowd cheers as Lifer climbs on top of Chuck again reeling off right hands...but Jimmy Riley actively pulls him off, the fans booing loudly! Matthews is quick to rise, grabbing Zack from behind and hitting a german suplex, bridging with it!

One…

Two…

Th-Kickout!

Dick Morosi: That was close!

Seth Ericson: Too close for my tastes, Dick.

Chuck Matthews doesn’t let up, getting up only to drop an elbow on Zack Lifer, followed by a second. He pulls Lifer up by the hair, barely even getting a look from Jimmy Riley for the hair grab, and pulls him in for a quick Russian legsweep! He again covers.

One…

Two…

Thr-Kickout!

Seth Ericson: Damnit that was even closer, come on Lifer! Get it together!

Chuck gives Riley a look, almost questioning the count despite its normal speed. He pulls Lifer up, but Zack quickly scoops him down into a small package!

One…

Jimmy checks Chuck’s shoulders…

T-Kickout!

Dick Morosi: OH COME ON! This is ridiculous!

Lifer, however, doesn’t bother with arguing this time, rising to his feet and catching Chuck with a kick to the midsection. He lifts his foe up, spinning and hitting the Freudian Slip brainbuster! He floats over for a cover…

One…



Two…



T-Kickout!

Seth Ericson: What a slow count!

Dick Morosi: Seth...I don’t like this one bit. And neither does Zack Lifer!

This time Lifer’s up in the face of Jimmy Riley, and the two are loudly shouting back and forth. Lifer turns, catching Chuck getting up, and catches his attempted kick to the midsection! He only holds the advantage for a moment, however, as Chuck hits a signature enzuigiri kick to the head! Rising to his knees, Chuck points to his brain, calling out his “Smartest Man in Wrestling” moniker. He grabs Lifer by the hair, dragging him over to the ropes and draping him over the middle strand, leaning on him to create a choking situation! Riley counts, albeit slowly, for Chuck to break the hold. He finally does, after a long four.

Seth Ericson: I don’t...I don’t know what to say, Dick.

Dick Morosi: Neither do I, friend. Neither do I.

Throwing Lifer back to the middle of the ring, Chuck grabs his legs, looking to lock in the Cryptic Cross! Zack shows there’s still life in him yet, though, pushing Chuck back into the corner, narrowly missing Jimmy Riley as he crashes into the turnbuckles! Lifer kips up onto his feet, and charges in, hitting a running jumping knee smash to Chuck in the corner. He pulls his foe out, whipping Matthews into the ropes, and meeting him with a clothesline that nearly sends Chuck toppling out of the ring! Zack whips Chuck across the ring, and bends over, looking for possibly a back body drop...but is caught when Chuck simply hits a spinning neckbreaker, swinging momentum back his way!

Dick Morosi: Zack Lifer telegraphed that one, and his momentum is gone...just like that.

Seth Ericson: Bent down too early there, Dick.

Chuck Matthews slowly gets to his feet, glancing at Chuck Matthews before heading to the corner, looking to ascend to the top rope.

Dick Morosi: Chuck Matthews, looking for a high risk move here, could put Zack Lifer away...God, I hope not…

Seth Ericson: He’s got all the time in the world, too, I think Lifer’s just about done.

Chuck stands up, perched on the top rope as he aims...leaps...and crashes into his target with a massive flying clothesline!

...Except Zack Lifer wasn’t the guy who got caught. He seems to have pulled Jimmy Riley into the way as Chuck took off, and Riley, now collapsed in a heap, has rolled to the outside of the ring.

Dick Morosi: I...I don’t even know if THAT was a smart move, Seth! Zack Lifer could get disqualified for that!

Seth Ericson: More than that, with Riley down, Chuck now has even more leeway with the rules -- as in, there aren’t any!

Chuck is up, looking outside the ring at Jimmy Riley’s prone form. He shrugs, then hops out of the ring as Lifer tries to pull himself up in the corner. Heading over to David Zinkus, Matthews pushes the ring announcer out of the way, brandishing a steel chair as he turns, looking back at Lifer in the ring. Zack’s eyes go wide as he sees the weapon, and he scrambles even faster to reach his feet. Chuck slides into the ring, reaching his feet just to be met with a series of punches from Lifer as he tries to wrest the chair away from his would be attacker!

Dick Morosi: YES! Zack Lifer has the chair, and the tables have turned on the Smartest Man in Wrestling!

Seth Ericson: He can’t be too careless with the chair, though!

And...Lifer does exactly that, taking a wild swing at Chuck. Matthews ducks under, takes off the opposite set of ropes, and comes back, hitting the HOLLYWOOD IMPACT and laying Lifer out, the chair sliding across the ring from the pair! Chuck rises to his knees, a big smile on his face as he realizes the end is near.

Dick Morosi: Oh...oh no.

Seth Ericson: And look! Jimmy Riley’s on his feet!

Indeed, outside the ring, Jimmy Riley has reached his feet, though he still looks a little woozy. Rolling back into the ring, he stands at the same time as Chuck Matthews. Chuck’s still got a big smile on his face, coming over to Jimmy as he motions to the down and out Lifer. Jimmy nods...and begins playing to the audience. They now rain their boos down on the referee as he mockingly bows to each side of the ring, one arm in front of his body and one behind it. After bowing to each side (which the bow itself drew odd looks from Chuck), Jimmy motions for Chuck to do the same.

Dick Morosi: What is this, bowing for their master plan? I’m getting sick over here, Seth.

Seth Ericson: I’m seeing the unemployment line in our future, Dick…

Chuck Matthews follows the lead he’s given, albeit hesitantly at first. By the third bow, he’s really soaking in the boos of the crowd, the smile on his face even wider…he turns, bowing to the fourth side of the ring…

...And that’s when he’s grabbed by the hand across his midsection, whipped outward, and pulled right back in.

Dick Morosi: SUPER! NOVA! LARIAT!

Seth Ericson: HOLY FUCK-

The pop of the crowd, even outside where sound usually goes up, is so loud it’s heard through the iPPV feed as Chuck Matthews is turned inside out by Jimmy Riley’s Supernova Lariat! Chuck is rolled backwards, coming to his knees, just in time for a recovered Zack Lifer to charge in…

Dick Morosi: FORCED SUICIDE!

Seth Ericson: HE’S NOT DONE!

Indeed, Lifer keeps his momentum going, bouncing off the ropes as Chuck is left seated…

Dick Morosi & Seth Ericson: DEAD AIR!

He covers, and Jimmy slides into position to count;

Dick Morosi: ONE!

Seth Ericson: TWO!

Dick Morosi & Seth Ericson: THREEEEEEEEEEE!

A crowd roar as loud as the previous one fills the air as Lifer throws his hands up in the air and Jimmy calls for the bell.

David Zinkus: Ladies and gentlemen, HERE IS YOUR WINNER...ZAAAAAAAAAAACK...LIFERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

WINNER: Zack Lifer

Dick Morosi: Let’s go back and look at this...hey wait a minute-

Indeed, the feed has cut to a replay of the Chuck Matthews flying clothesline...showing that Jimmy Riley actually put himself in the way, taking the move to keep Zack Lifer from taking it!

Seth Ericson: He didn’t get pulled in the way! Jimmy Riley did that on his own!

Back live, Lifer is to his feet, being met with a handshake offer from Jimmy Riley...which he accepts, to the cheers of the crowd! Riley raises Lifer’s hand, as the two pass the still unconscious Chuck Matthews and leave the ring.

Dick Morosi: Matthews is gone! Lifer’s out of detention! Jimmy Riley hasn’t turned his back on EXODUS!

Seth Ericson: WE’VE STILL GOT JOBS!

Dick Morosi: And that! Let's celebrate while we go backstage!

We cut to outside the University campus, out of the emergency exit we see Heather Halliwell with a black bag of weapons tied to her back and a baseball bat in her right hand. She taps her foot impatiently, looking a little nervous as she does so. She then jumps slightly as she sees a shadow move.

Heather Halliwell: Come out, come out, wherever you are!

She takes a few steps forward towards where she saw the shadow move, cautiously looking around her. She takes another step onto the black tarmac, completely unaware there is a dark shadow lurking behind her. The shadow, clad in a black hoodie that obscures the identity flicks out a lighter and drops it to the floor. Heather is suddenly startled, as a blazing ring of fire circles the area. She spins around, coming face to face with the woman who has been hunting her down.

Lady Magdalena: Found you…

Heather takes one look at the fire, then back to the woman known as ‘Little Bird’. And almost immediately they come to blows. Lefts and rights straight to the face. Heather wheels back and swings with the bat, Mags barely ducking underneath it. She stretches out, kicking Heather backwards towards the inferno, Halliwell barely avoiding it. She pulls out a light tube from her bag, swinging wildly at the Frenchwoman. Mags ducks and dives, avoiding each blow as if they were coming at her in slow motion. She then aims a fierce kick towards the Pretty Lil’ Texan, but her leg is met with the crashing of the light tube.

Mags rears back in pain as Heather leaps forward, cracking Magdalena in the skull with the bat in desperation. The Fair Lady goes down, with Halliwell on top of her throwing wild punches. A few sneak through, but the stronger Mags soon turns the tables by rolling over and nailing the Texan with her own set of punches. Halliwell’s nose is bloodied early, and she defends herself by grabbing The Black Swan by the hair and ripping a chunk out. Magdalena lets out a yelp, rolling off of her but staying clear of the flames.

Heather charges once more, her eyes filled with determination. She swings with the bat, but Mags blocks it with her forearms, ripping the bat from her hands. Mags then swings with the bat, Heather arching her back to avoid the blow, but Mags then hurls the bat down upon her stomach, smashing her to the tarmac.

Heather rolls around in pain, attempting to avoid the upcoming blows from Magdalena. After the third attempt, the bat itself cracks upon the tarmac. Magdalena howls in frustration, booting Heather square in the face.

Lady Magdalena: I WILL KILL YOU!

Again Magdalena boots Heather, one boot after another.

Lady Magdalena: I WILL KILL YOU! I WILL KILL YOU!

Heather rolls away, grabbing Magdalena and pulling her down by the legs. Out of her pocket, she throws white powder in Mags’ face, blinding her for a second. Heather uses the opportunity to clock Mags around the face with a kendo stick, and again, and again. Mags’ lip is visibly bleeding now, and she rocks back towards the flames. Heather suddenly kips up, running right at the Black Swan and pelting her with vicious shots. Mags keeps rocking backwards towards the flames, one step at a time. Heather gets more and more vicious, one shot after another and then finally spears her through the flames!

The pair of them roll around, trying to beat the flames down. Heather gets up first, but is met with Our Lady Peace! Heather’s neck snaps back as she hits the floor. Magdalena hovers over the beaten and bloody Heather Halliwell. She glares down upon her, licking the blood from her lips, ready to deliver the final blow. At this point though, she is dragged down, her eyes wide, crazed and confused. She is surrounded by white suits, doctors restraining her to the floor as Heather is able to crawl back, confused. There is a rolling of wheels, and the black suited figure of Andreas Lasiewicz, clad in his Reno suit appears into view.

Andreas Lasiewicz: That will be all, Little Bird…

Magdalena struggles, screaming at her brother, screaming at medical staff, screaming at the ambulance that is backing towards them.

Lady Magdalena: WHY? WHY? WHY HER? WHY HER? WHY BETRAY ME?

Andreas Lasiewicz: You betrayed yourself, child… It should never have got this far. You need help.

Lady Magdalena: NO! NO! NO!

She screams and curses in her native language as she is dragged away towards the ambulance. Andreas turns to Heather, extending his hand and helping her to her feet. She groggily sits on his lap, wrapping her arms around him as he begins to wheel back towards the arena.

Andreas Lasiewicz: I told you enough would be enough. You were fantastic…

Heather simply sighs, a weak smile upon her face as they turn and roll back to the arena, before we return to ringside.

The feed cuts backstage moments from the Main Event. We find the the nefarious Christum Furor seated in his locker room. In his lap sits the EXODUS World Championship, while he holds his infamous burlap sack. He stares at it with a deep rooted fascination, almost lost in thought as he prepares himself for the most important bout of his career. The end of a chapter. The end of an era in EXODUS. Suddenly, the madman’s trance is broken by a knock on the door. In walks his pupil, former (R)evolution Wrestling star Naoki Arishima. The sword of the New Age is holding a large suit over bag as he slowly approaches his senpai, a somewhat somber aura surrounding him as stands before his senpai.

Christum Furor: Naoki…

Arishima closes his eyes, acknowledging the call from his senpai.

Christum Furor: Is everything in order?

Silently, Arishima nods.

Christum Furor: You have never failed me, Naoki. You are like a son to me… a son that will inherit this world as I promised you. Tonight, I will ensure our future… your future.

The Michigander embraces his student, placing a hand on Arishima’s head in a parental show of affection and esteem.

Christum Furor: Is she here?

The massive figure nods once more, bringing a heartfelt smile to Furor’s facial features. The twinkle in his eye shines brighter as someone else enters the room. She is the epitome of elegance, dressed in a black dress that hugs her voluptuous figure. Her silky blond hair flows past her shoulders, illuminating the path she walks as she draws closer toward the man of the hour. With a deep breath Christum stands in awe, setting the burlap sack on his chair as he takes the hand of the only woman he’s ever loved - Haven Silver.

Christum Furor: My moon… my sun and my stars...

There’s a tenderness in his tone as the World Champion wraps his hands around Haven’s face, gingerly caressing her porcelain skin. He brings his forehead to hers, his eyes closing as their souls become entwined.

Haven Silver: Love of my life…

The couple share an eskimo kiss as Silver holds him tight, almost refusing to let go. Christum slowly pulls away, gently holding her arms as he stares into eyes - diamonds that sparkle bright enough to light one’s darkest hour.

Christum Furor: It is almost poetic to have you at my side my love, here at the conclusion of this arduous journey. I have been on this path long before EXODUS… before any of this took into effect. I remember so vividly my darling… so vividly how this cruel world ripped us apart. We were young… we were dreams… naive as we thought we could be decent in indecent times… we thought we could be virtuous in a world depraved of virtues… we thought we could add color to a black world. But we were wrong. They would not let our dreams come to fruition. This world… it does not give… it only takes… takes from our sanity… from our spirit… from our soul until there is NOTHING left.

Furor’s eyes become wide with conviction as he gets lost into Haven’s, a multitude of emotions beginning to rush to the surface as he spills his heart out to her.

Christum Furor: They took you from me, Haven. They killed who we were.. who I was. I had nothing… nothing but loneliness… but desolation… I was banished into an abyss where the light of day could not reach me. Every single day I tried to climb out… I tried to escape to find you again but I couldn’t… and with every passing moment my sanity dwindled… my humanity deteriorated to the point that I couldn’t recognize myself. My reflexion was a bitter contrast to the man I was… the man you wanted me to be. Alone without you I was lost… so lost that the inner demons I worked hard to suppress took me hostage. I was consumed by my madness to the point that I ceased to be the man you fell in love with. I became something else… something MORE.

Christum turns away from Haven, and plods toward a mirror on the wall. He stares into it, staring at his likeness.. into the looking glass that he now calls home.

Christum Furor: The madness that came from losing you opened my mind, Haven. It made me aware that when a man learns to love, he must bear the risk of hatred. And I hated them. I hated this world for what it did to me… for what it did to us but then I understood it all. I became absolute, developing an intellect that transcended anything this world has ever known. The longer you live… the more you realize that this cruel world is just made of pain… suffering and emptiness… that our dreams and our hope are meaningless because we do not control our lives… not as long as we allow them to be governed by a broken system that perpetuates the wickedness of men. The greed. The envy. The corruption. There is no light in a world made of shadows… in a world where the concept of winners and losers exists. The selfish desire to maintain a way of existence causes wars, and hatred is born to protect these cherished concepts… concepts that have been passed down to generation… concepts that have never been questioned.

Furor shakes his head, balling a fist in frustration as he turns back to Haven.

Christum Furor: But I questioned these laws and regulations. I questioned the established order and the fate I had been handed. I questioned EVERYTHING and I came to the conclusion… I became enlightened… that this cycle CAN be broken… only until we are willing to discard these viewpoints… to stop TALKING about change and actually take my life into my OWN hands… and with these hands…

Christum stare at his miracle working fingertips.

Christum Furor: With these hands I harnessed my dementia into a weapon… into a power source… for power is NOT will… it is a phenomenon… a phenomenon of physically making things happen and I HAVE MADE ALL OF THIS POSSIBLE! For the past half year I have created a world that will replace this cruel reality… a perfect dream…. a world of truth… not LIES. A world where from our pain we have an understanding of each other… and from that understanding we have harmony… and from that harmony we will have true PEACE.

Christum takes Haven’s hand again now, looking right into her eyes as she hangs on his every word.

Christum Furor: I built the New Age… for you Haven. I created this so that we would NEVER be torn apart again. This is our dream Haven… the everlasting dream… the reality I have shaped and the destiny I have architectured.

Haven Silver: Magnus… no… I don’t want any of this.

Christum Furor’s brow furrows in confusion as he snatches his hand back.

Haven Silver: This is not what I wanted. Everything that has happened… what you did to me… I forgave you… I forgave you but you never could forgive yourself. This… this New Age you created… it’s all because you couldn’t let go… your hatred is what consumed you… what cause you to lose sight of everything that was important. You were important… my love for you is what mattered most. We drifted apart because you let professional wrestling come between us… but now… now we’ve found each other again and we can leave it all behind….

Furor’s eyes widen in confusion as Haven tries to explain herself.

Haven Silver: All of this... this world that has caused us so much pain… so much misery… so much grief… we can leave it all and start anew. All of it. None of this matters, Magnus. None of it matters because we are together again. I don’t want you to go out there… because you don’t have to… because you don’t NEED to. You’ve overcome everything they have done to you… to us… you have SUCCEEDED… baby THIS was my dream… to see you become the man you are today… that man who stands as the champion of the free world. You are MY CHAMPION, Magnus!

Haven takes his hand, pulling him in close.

Haven Silver: You are everything I wanted you to be and more… there’s nothing left for you to do… there’s nothing left for you to accomplish… so don’t go through with this… don’t go out there and face that because you’ve already won… you have me my love so you’ve ALREADY won!

Christum frantically runs his hands through his black locks, trying to come to terms to what he’s just heard. There’s a menagerie of thoughts running through his head as murmurs to himself.

Christum Furor: I cant….

Haven mouth becomes agape, shocked and frightened by his response.

Christum Furor: I can’t because my job isn’t done… my mission is not complete until I finish what I started. This is my fate, Haven. This is the destiny that I’ve chosen and it is the path that I must walk… alone.

Haven’s eyes fill with tears now as she shakes her head in disbelief. Christum grabs her now, wiping the tear from her face.

Christum Furor: Do not fear, my love. I promise that I will return to you… I will return because I cannot lose… I cannot lose as long as you believe in me.

The EXODUS World Champion wraps his hands around Haven’s face.

Christum Furor: Do you believe I can win, Haven?

Haven’s body goes still as she stares into Furor’s eyes, almost unable to speak as she is paralysed by the sheer magnitude of the question. Suddenly, as more tears cascade down her visage her mouth begins to move, formulating one words that will break her heart and his as well.

Haven Silver: No…

Christum’s eyes close as Haven’s voice reverberates in the back of his mind.

Haven Silver: If you walk out there… you will die.

With a smile manifesting on his mug Christum pulls her in, kissing her on the lips for a moment that seems to last an eternity. Finally, the EXODUS World Champion pulls away from her, continuing to smile as he marches over to grab his burlap sack. With Naoki Arishima holding the suit bag the two figures slowly march out of camera view, leaving Haven sobbing in out of fear of the unknown.

Dick Morosi: Uncertain times for Furor's camp, Seth. Savannah has fallen. Sally has fallen. Daisuke has fallen. Chuck has fallen. There's only one domino left.


Seth Ericson: Yeah but he's the biggest and the baddest domino in the business today. He's overcome every challenge he's faced. We have to hope that Chris Strike is the one to end this nightmare.

Dick Morosi: This will end one way or another, Seth. One of these men is going to be put in the ground six feet deep... it's time for our Main Event. STRIKE FUROR II!



The lights begin to swirl around ringside, the crowd outside of the RIMAC roaring in approval as they hear the sound of a bass blasting through the PA system followed by a British voice coming through on it as well.

People ask a question.
What's a War Machine?
And I tell 'em…

The camera pans over to a small stage with a full set-up of drums, amps and a full fledged band dressed in matching suits, two guitarists, a drummer, a bassist, a keyboardist and a lead singer - all of them having their faces concealed by Turks masks, the outside of the RIMAC cheering fiercely for it while the voice continues while the bass keeps playing the beginning riffs to “I’m A Man” by Black Strobe.

It's not about marquees, titles and legendary status.
Oh no! There's more there than that, my friend...
We all like a bit of the good life.
Some the money, some the marquee.
Others the championship game, the glamour or the fame...
But a real War Machine...oh, they're different.

Another riff and suddenly, the music stops, the lights going out all over the outside and leaving them to the darkness of the night.

Why?
Because a real War Machine...wants the fuckin' lot!!!

The crowd roars in approval again at the end, as white and gold lights begin to swirl around the ringside area, as the drummer on the live band bangs his drumsticks as to count them down before they start playing their tune, the lead singer stepping up and a female voice being heard from the microphone - sounding like somebody who seems able to handle herself in both an opera and a rock concert.

It burns deep down inside of me,
We have ourselves to blame...
Not questioning, accepted as the truth.

Thunder and rain can be heard from a distance, all while the image of a large mountain complete with a temple atop the peak is seen on the LCD screen while a cover of “Prophets of War” by Dream Theater blares out of the PA system around ringside and the amps around the band stage as well. The shot zooms into the temple, as the crowd begins to clap along with the beat of the song, watching as a man rises from the throne inside of the temple and makes his way down the steps. Once he nears the camera, he looks up at the sky and makes his way over towards a pool of water. The man looks down into the water, and once he does…a shot of lightning hits the water!

Debate this fight it's just cause,
The facts do not support theirs...
To liberate a people...
And rid them of tyrant rule.

As the lightning hits the water in the video, streams of smoke shoot up from the ramp way area and high above, covering the entrance ramp as the song kicks into full motion, the fans clapping along with the song in full while white and yellow spotlights swirl all across the arena.

Is it time to make a change? Are we closer than before?
Can we help them break away? Are we profiting from war?
IT’S TIME TO MAKE A CHANGE!!!!!!!!

Chris Strike emerges from the curtains and steps out into the limelight, drawing a loud reaction from the EXODUS faithful as he stops in front of the entrance ramp and slowly raises his right arm up, hand open - his face covered by the WEAPON mask and his entire body in WEAPON gear, except this time it’s in gold and black colors rather than the green and black he wore during his duration as the Fail-Safe Program of EXODUS Pro. Strike is showered by gold, white and black streamers and smoke appearing from each side of the ramp before he makes his way down, having the occasional fans reaching out towards him from the rail, keeping his eyes solely focused on the ring as the lead singer motions for the fans begin to sing along with the chorus and the EXODUS Pro faithful follow suit.

TIME! FOR! CHANGE!
FIGHT! THE! FEAR!
FIND! THE! TRUTH!
TIME! FOR! CHANGE!

Chris then makes his way up the ring stairs, using the steel pole for support, putting his right foot over the middle rope and as he is about to get inside, Strike suddenly turns around and finds himself with both elbows locked around the top rope, his entire upper body exposed to the crowd’s sight. Strike just gives the fans a sly smirk and a nod as flashes of light go off, before going under the middle rope and into the ring. He looks around at the crowd and walks up to the nearest corner, leaning against the ropes and removing the WEAPON mask, handing it over to one of the staff members on the outside.

David Zinkus: Introducing first…from Denver, Colorado via São Paulo, Brazil…weighing in tonight at two hundred and fifteen pounds…HE IS “THE WAR MACHINE,” HE IS…CHRIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSS…STRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

The crowd roars at the announcement of the number one contender, as Strike grins before stretching his arms out, pointing out towards the live band of Turks who he played him in, nodding as they get a roar of approval as they finish playing, basking in the reaction and his eyes averting to the ramp where he waits for the EXODUS Pro World Heavyweight champion…

Dick Morosi: Strike has been through so much to get to this moment. The machinations of Edward Nair and Christian Kane kept him away from the title shot that was rightfully his for what feels like a year now. But how times change. He's become WEAPON, he's fought his old friend Sally, and he's even come to some kind of peace with Christian Kane. And it all culiminates tonight, as he stands as EXODUS' last chance at stopping the unending reign of Christum Furor.

Seth Ericson: We'll see! I'm not convinced yet. He might just choke.

Dick Morosi: I think I speak for most everyone in this crowd Seth when I say I think you're full of it. There is not a more deserving man right now who should be number one contender. If anyone can save EXODUS from Furor and prove that All Will Be Well, it's the War Machine.

Seth Ericson: We'll see. He has to get through Furor first.

The atmosphere in the arena is electric, as some fans cheer tumultuously in anticipation for the arrival of the champion, others hold a quiet eagerness. Strike begins limbering up, pulling on the ropes and stretching his limbs as the arrival of his opponent draws nears. The God of Thunder continues to hold his resolve, an expression of sheer confidence etched on his face looking not one bit intimidated. The lights in the arena suddenly black out entirely, with the exception of EXIT signs and the flashing of phones and cameras held by the patrons in attendance. If not already standing, the crowd rises to their feet in response to the strum of an ominous guitar riff that starts “If Rain Is What You Want” by Slipknot. As the foreboding introducing carries on, the tron flickers to life displaying a montage of the man behind the music.



The vignette on the tron transitions to the champion’s normal video package, showing high impact and trademark moves, The Butterfly Effect, Mask of Madness, The Hammer of Dawn, all maneuvers he intends to use against the man knocking on his doorstep. Slowly, white smoke begins to shoot up from the ventilators, beginning to consume the entryway and stage area. Meanwhile the velvet curtains begin to part, the crowd immediately exploding into applause as the holder of the wrestling industries biggest prize emerges. The brooding figure casts an eerie silhouette on the curtains whilst his stature beckons the raw emotion of the capacity audience. His head remains still, staring through the holes of his trademark burlap sack, his cold blood eyes gazing at his feet, the glimmer in his pupils slightly faded and deteriorated due to the countless sleepless nights. An ominous cloud hangs over him, two years worth of anger burning deep within culminating in this final moment. The fanfare of the audience finally hits him, quickly carving their mark into the center of his brain. His eyes gradually rise, his vision being pointed toward the ring, inhabited by his most toughest and hated adversary to date.



The sounds of the arena are blacked out as time slows down for the champion who can only hear the prevailing sound of his heartbeat as it reverberates through his eardrums. The only thing he's focused on is the man staring at him mere feet away, the man that has vowed to end his reign on top of EXODUS and put a stake through his heart. The moment is crystallized in his brainpan, the picturesque moment of two superstars mentally preparing themselves for tremendous combat, and the right to decide the fate of a company they have both come to call home. This long moment of contemplation finally comes to a cease as a shark of sparks suddenly descend from the rafters, raining down on the man they call Christum Furor whilst he raises his head to the heavens, and outstretches his arms in his infamous crucifix pose.



David Zinkus: And his opponent! Coming to the ring he weighs in tonight at two hundred and forty pounds and fights out of Detroit, Michigan. He is the EXODUS World Champion and the leader of GODS & MONSTERS... CHRISTUM! FUROR!

Dick Morosi: This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for. I can’t believe it’s finally here. Chris Strike and Christum Furor are about to literally fight where everything is on the line.

Seth Ericson: The World Champion has promised to bury Chris Strike and cement the New Age. I have chills right now, Dick. Literal. F*cking. Chills.

The madman dawns a three piece black suit. He is dressed for a funeral - what is yet to be determined is if it is his. Going along with his wardrobe are the white wrist tape concealing his wrists and hands. As his arms descend the Michigander opens his suit jacket, revealing the EXODUS World Champion underneath which lies lies perfectly around his waist.




Christum Furor makes his way to the ring steps and stops, pausing momentarily, mentally telling himself that tonight would be the last time he would ever have to deal with the thorn in his side. With a slow, rhythmic gait the villain slowly marches up the stairs before climbing the turnbuckle. From his perch he surveys the arena, the crowd still going insane, prompting him to remove the EXODUS World title from his waist and hoist it into the sky.

"The only thing deeper than my last breath
The only thing darker than my last death
Is the panic, the static
I've come back from the dead
For my solace
We'll never sleep again

My solace
We'll never sleep again"

Furor climbs down the turnbuckle, dropping into the ring. His gaze lies is on his foe, staring into his smoldering soul. The music slowly fades out. The challenger hooks his arms back on the ropes and bounces on them a few times, both limbering and psyching himself up. The God of Thunder paces in place as the crowd begins to chant both their namesakes. As the sounds of the EXODUS lifeblood reverberate throughout the arena, the challenger and the champion approach one another, their trashtalk impossible to discern due to the bedlam of noise surrounding them. Chris Strike motions around his waist, promising a title change, while the champion merely poses in the crucifix again in defiance, almost as if to say 'over my dead body'. From this point afterward the referee separates them, and holds up the EXODUS World Championship for all the world to see before handing it to David Zinkus an calling for the bell.

David Zinkus: And here... we... go...

*DING! DING! DING!*

The bell rings and the crowd falls silent as they wait to see the beginning of this fated contest. Slowly, the two begin to approach each other, coming to stand face to face with one another in the center of the ring. On one side, the God of Thunder, the last stand of EXODUS against the forces of Gods & Monsters. On the other side stood the burlap sacked madman that has held EXODUS in his grasp for what feels like an eternity, hand clasped around the company's throat so it can't breathe without his permission. They stare into one another's eyes, these warriors, and know that this battle will decide everything.

And then they start punching each other.

These mighty warriors begin to repeatedly drive their fists into the face of the other. Strike takes advantage of the tuxedo Furor has chosen to wear, grabbing a handhold on the lapel with one hand so he can better drive his fist into Furor's face. Furor does not seem to be bothered by Strike using his clothing against him, instead choosing to use both of his fists to batter his hated enemy's face. Strike's right eye begins to turn purple, as blood begins to trickle from the mouth hole of Furor's sack from a split lip. The two force each other into the corner, Strike finding his back pressing against the turnbuckles though he doesn't let this stop him from continuing to drive his fist into Furor's face.

Seth Ericson: Oh my God did we accidentally turn into an MMA place and no one told me?! I coulda put another bet on this fight!

Dick Morosi: Furor and Strike clearly had no intentions of having this play out as a wrestling match, they just wanted to beat each other down!

Seth Ericson: Well someone should have told Strike to expect Furor to change that idea!

Dick Morosi: You're right, as Furor suddenly drops his arms to around Strike's waist, belly to belly suplex throws Strike out of the corner and to the mat!

Furor doesn't give Strike a chance to get his head around what's happened, running up and dropping a knee onto Strike's left arm before turning and grabbing the arm, twisting it back as far as he can. Strike's face contorts into pain, but he begins to try to grab the rope, but it's too far away. Realizing this, he instead begins to push up onto his legs, trying to sift Furor's weight off of him. Finally, he manages to roll to his right, sending Furor falling off of him and relinquishing the hold he had on his arm. However, Furor still manages to get to his feet before Strike can, and grabs him before he can make it up, DDT'ing Strike back down to the mat. He then stomps on the left elbow of Strike.

Dick Morosi: We can see Furor's game plan at work here. He's working the arm of Strike, getting him ready for his Mask of Madness.

Seth Ericson: And see that's brilliant Dick, because Furor wants to dominate EXODUS and what better way to show your dominance than to make the last hero they can send against you submit to you?

Dick Morosi: It's disgusting Seth, but it's also unfortunately true.

Seth Ericson: I should hope so, I put money on Furor!

Dick Morosi: What.

Seth Ericson: ….Hey look! Furor's got Strike back up!

Dick Morosi: ...indeed he does, and he's trying to get a double underhook on Strike, not sure what he's going for here but it cannot be good for Chris Strike.

Seth Ericson: But good for my betting odds which'll get Daddy a new boa-OH NO!

Dick Morosi: Strike managing to get himself to his feet, forcing Furor off of his, down Strike's back, and onto the mat!

Seth Ericson: Oh bother.

Dick Morosi: You've got that right, Strike is back in!

Strike has finally gotten his chance and he takes it, quickly grabbing Furor and forcing him to his feet to force him to eat a few punches before giving him a belly to belly to pay back the one he took earlier. And then Strike falls onto Furor and begins to pull at Furor's burlap sack, Furor trying to keep Strike from removing it, only to have his grip weaken when Strike throws more blows at his head. Strike finally yanks the burlap sack off of Furor's head and holds it up for the crowd to see, the crowd cheering hard.

Seth Ericson: This is just disrespectful!

Dick Morosi: After every single thing Furor has done, he deserves far worst than that!

Seth Ericson: ...I guess Strike heard you, Dick.

Dick Morosi: It...it certainly seems so, Seth. Fans, I think Chris Strike is trying to force the burlap sack down Christum Furor's throat!

Seth Ericson: No I get it! The sack is a signature of Furor's, so many of his words have come out while he's worn that sack on his head! Now Strike's gonna make him choke on his own words!

Dick Morosi: Wow, that is insightful, Seth.

Seth Ericson: I know! I also know that I lose my money if Furor chokes to death so someone stop Strike!

Dick Morosi: There we go, I knew you'd be back.

Strike continues to try and push as much of the sack as he can into Furor's mouth, Furor desperately trying to fight him off. The referee, uncertain of the legality of this, seems ready to try and step in, but Furor renders that mute as a lucky strike upward hits Strike in his Heather-pleasers, causing him to fall off of him and clutch his impained babies. Furor yanks the sack out of his mouth and coughs for a few moments before getting shakily to his feet. Strike is trying to get onto his feet, but Furor grabs him and throws him headfirst into the turnbuckle, Strike slumping to his face on the mat. Furor takes a run up and intends to drop a knee onto Strike's head, only for Strike to roll out of the ring! Furor lands poorly on his knee and is stunned, giving Strike time to reach in and grab Furor's head, smashing his face into the turnbuckle! Furor collapses, allowing Strike to drag him out of the ring.

Seth Ericson: And this has officially gone off the rails.

Dick Morosi: It was inevitable they'd leave the ring, but now that they have it changes the entire tone of the match!

Seth Ericson: I bet some good money, you know. More than I had at the time.

Dick Morosi: ...Seth, did you bet money you don't have?

Seth Ericson: It's fine, as long as Furor wins I'll be fine.

Dick Morosi: Ooh boy....

Strike brings Furor to his feet on the outside and throws a gutpunch to keep him out of it. Strike starts to whip Furor into the ringpost, only for Furor to spin and get a hold on Strike, sending the War Machine facefirst into the ring post! The number one contender falls onto the ringsteps, struggling to recover but Furor doesn't intend to allow him to, as he takes a run at Strike!

Dick Morosi: Oh my God Furor trying to curb stomp Strike's face into the ring steps!

Seth Ericson: But damn it that Brazilian is too quick, he moved out of the way!

Dick Morosi: And leaving Furor stomping onto steel! He's stumbled off the steps in confusion, and Strike is ready!

Seth Ericson: Clothesline! They've both gone over the guardrail!

Dick Morosi: This has spilled into the crowd, fans, and it can only get madder from here!

The two begin to stir, slowly making their ways to their feet, trying to be the first one up. Strike has recovered, but so has Furor who grabs an empty chair off the ground and throws it at Strike's head! Strike, however, sees it coming and ducks, but that turns out to be part of Furor's plan who rushes Strike and delivers a massive big boot to the Brazilian, sending him tumbling over the guardrail! Strike is stumbling to his feet and Furor is ready to again take advantage taking a run to the guardrail and leaping over it intending to shoulderblock Strike down, but Strike smashes him in the face with an elbow, sending Furor slumping down to the ground!

Dick Morosi: Strike really came into this match prepared for Furor. He's spent months preparing himself for this match, and it shows! He's got Furor scouted!

Seth Ericson: Hey now, Furor's strength is in being unpredictable. Changing the play in the middle of the ball run. Strike has this facet of him scouted out, but at any moment Furor could change things around and leave Strike without a way of dealing with him!

Dick Morosi: It's entirely possible, but for now Strike has this in his hands!

Strike drags Furor to his feet and chops him across the chest, sending him back against the guardrail. Strike seems ready to run up to him, but seems to reconsider, instead approaching Furor slower, a clear plan in mind. However, it's suddenly turned around when Furor hooks his arms into the guardrail and uses it as a base to support him as he jumps up and drives both his feet into the face of Strike! Strike stumbles backwards, confused, allowing Furor time to reach out and grab him, tossing him over the guardrail back into the fans, and following him. However, by the time he's over the guardrail Strike is back on his feet, and they meet one another with fists among the fans.

Dick Morosi: They're outright fighting among the fans now, and I'm surprised to see that most of the fans aren't trying to get out of the way!

Seth Ericson: Would you?

Dick Morosi: ….yes!

Seth Ericson: Okay, silly question, but you can't blame these drunk fans! They wanna see this action up close! Like Furor powerbombing Strike onto the grass!

Dick Morosi: Luckily he didn't manage to drop Strike onto one of those chairs, that might've been it for the War Machine.

Seth Ericson: If only, man, if only. And Furor going down to grab Strike's hair, classic jerk move. Tear some of that pretty boy hair out.

Dick Morosi: He's shouting something into Strike's face, and I don't think my ears could handle knowing what it was.

Seth Ericson: And he's not the only one shouting at someone! One of the fans this is happening in front of is getting mouthy at Furor!

Dick Morosi: I think that's one of those “SectionB” kids we hear so much about, displaying their usual lack of sense and unending love of EXODUS and-OH MY GOD!

Seth Ericson: Furor just punched that kid right in the jaw! They are out cold from it!

Dick Morosi: How disgusting! That fan did nothing to deserve that!

Seth Ericson: In a way they got in Furor's way, and they should've known better after seeing what Furor's done to everyone else in his way!

Dick Morosi: But Furor's gonna regret it in the end, it gave Strike time to recuperate, and he's kicked Furor's leg out from under him! He's fallen face first into an empty chair!

Seth Ericson: Damn it, what a dirty trick from that Brazilian! He took advantage of him looking away for one moment!

Dick Morosi: Only person Furor can blame for that is himself, and he might be blaming himself big time. Strike's on his feet and he's gotten hold of Furor's tuxedo and he's dragging him along to...the concession stand?

Seth Ericson: Oh jeez.

They reach the concession stand, a table with a popcorn machine and soda dispenser. Strike seems to think Furor is in the mood for some popcorn, as he drives Furor's face into the popcorn machine! Furor collapses to the ground, as Strike actually grabs the machine and yanks it up, turning it bottoms-up over Furor, covering him in popcorn. The fans cheer this obscenely as Strike goes to grab Furor and pick him up, only for Furor to drive an elbow into Strike's face and get to his feet. He nails the War Machine with a rolling elbow and then grabs the stunned man by the neck, dragging him to the table where he pries the top off of the soda machine and forces Strike's head into the soda! Strike begins to thrash around as Furor drowns him, desperately trying to find something to stop this before he runs out of air. His flailing hand manages to grab hold a salt shaker and he slams it back into Furor's face, splitting it open and depositing salt into the eyes of the world champ! Furor staggers back in agony, allowing Strike to pull his head out of the soda. Both men's eyes are stinging and rendering them essentially blind, but Strike doesn't let him stop that from trying to end Furor, as he grabs the man and goes to hit him with Mjolnir, only for Furor to twist around at the last moment, with the end result being both of them suffering the brunt of going through the concession table! The two lay there near-motionless.

Dick Morosi: Oh my God! They might have both been rendered unconscious there!

Seth Ericson: No! I don't know what a draw means for my bet!

Dick Morosi: The referee is checking on both men, we'll see what he says.

Seth Ericson: Please, Furor, please Furor, please Furor....

Dick Morosi: He's signaling...they're both stirring! The match continues! My God, the stamina these men have! The sheer will!

Seth Ericson: It's what champions are made of, Dick! They're at the top for a reason. And...uh, I'm wondering something...

Dick Morosi: Yes, Seth?

Seth Ericson: ...do we have to pay for those machines?

Dick Morosi: ...yes, Seth, we do.

Seth Ericson: Oh goooood.....

Dick Morosi: At least there's not a hot dog machine, I shudder to think what they'd have done there.

Blowjob: There was one, but I ate them all.

Seth Ericson: ...thanks, dick. Thanks. He touched me again.

Dick Morosi: Sigh....

Slowly, miraculously, both men slowly get to their feet. The referee has found bottles of water, which he gives to the two blinded men, who begin to dump it over their heads to rid them of what ails them. Except Furor only dumps half of the bottle onto his head, as he throws the half-empty bottle at Strike's head, where it rebounds off onto the referee's head as Furor charges Strike once again, who meets him with fists flying, the two quickly beginning to degrade into a brawl across the crowd. Their fistfight finally makes it's way close to the stage, getting ever closer to the burial site that calls to them. Unfortunately in the way to that is a hearse, and they cannot resist it's call either. They brawl up to the hood of the hearse, where Furor suddenly reaches out and grabs Strike by the head, slamming his face into the hood. Strike is stunned, allowing Furor to roll him up onto the hood. Furor takes a few steps back and take a running start at the car, jumping onto the hood for a move we'll never know, as Strike rolls down the hood, taking Furor out at the knees, who falls onto his knees but continues to slide forward into the windshield, smashing through it!

Seth Ericson: SHIET!

Dick Morosi: Oh, I hope we didn't rent that hearse.

Strike goes to the driver's door and opens it, grabbing the splayed out Furor and dragging him out of the hearse, beginning to drag him over to the stage and the burial site beyond it. They reach the stage itself and Strike slams Furor's head into the metal before rolling him onto it and climbing up after him. Strike then kicks Furor in the side, causing him to roll off the opposite side of the stage and jumping off after him, the both of them officially entering the burial site.

Dick Morosi: This is it, fans, the moment we've been waiting for. They've reached the place where, by the end of this, one of them will be buried six feet deep.

Seth Ericson: And hopefully without me following soon after.

Dick Morosi: This has been an otherworldy brawl the entire time, both men are battered, bloodied, and bruised. It's a wonder either of them can stand!

Seth Ericson: They're champions, Dick, it's what they do! They've got hidden reserves of manliness you don't have!

Dick Morosi: You mean we don't have.

Seth Ericson: No, no, I mean you don't.

Dick Morosi: Sigh. Of course.

Strike now begins to lay into Furor with a righteous fury, raining blow after blow on the prone leader of G&M, and when that ceases to amuse him he begins to rip at Furor's tux, ripping one arm off and then the other before forcing the tux off of him and throwing it into the crowd. He looks at the empty grave and, more specifically, the shovel embedded into the dirt next to it, and he smiles. He begins to make his way to it, grabbing it and beginning to pull it from the dirt, but as he does Furor gets to his feet and rushes him, grabbing him from behind and nailing a stiff German suplex onto the dirt.

Dick Morosi: Anytime Strike seems to have an advantage, Furor is right there to switch it around back to his favor!

Seth Ericson: That's what a champion does, Dick, he's been the man on top of this company for so long for a reason!

Dick Morosi: Besides being a megalomaniac controlling a band of psychos?

Seth Ericson: ...I mean he's a pretty great wrestler too....

Dick Morosi: He is, and he's certainly showing that here tonight.

Seth Ericson: He needs to show it more so I don't get kneecapped.

Furor goes to Strike and pulls him up, grabbing his left arm and once again locking it behind him. He then unravels Strike and jerks him back towards him, intending to lariat him, only for Strike to duck under. Furor turns in time for Strike to catch him with a dropkick right to the face that sends Furor down to the dirt. Strike goes to the laying Furor, trying to get a hold of his head, only for Furor to lash out with his fist, catching Strike on the side of the head, sending him to a kneeling position. Furor twists around and nails a kick right to Strike's gut, sending him down. Furor scrambles to his feet and rushes Strike, grabbing him and turning before hip tossing him. Strike hits the ground and rolls, almost falling into the hole! He scrambles to his feet only for Furor to nail him with a boot to the jaw that shakes him. Furor spins him and grabs him, nailing a backdrop suplex.

Dick Morosi: It is just back and forth here, and at the most crucial of times. This is sudden death right here, fans, any wrong move could send one of these men into the grave, and that will be all she wrote.

Seth Ericson: I can't imagine being buried alive, Dick, it's honestly one of the worst experiences I could imagine. Being crushed down by all that dirt, the worms crawling all over you, waiting for the moment you expire so they can feast....

Dick Morosi: Do you...think about this a lot, Seth?

Seth Ericson: I think about death often, Dick, especially when I'm betting on money I don't have.

Dick Morosi: ...yes, I imagine you would.

Seth Ericson: Furor going to take advantage of the position Strike is in, it's almost over baby!

Dick Morosi: It seems it might be going that way indeed, Seth, Furor has things well in hand right no-WAIT!

Seth Ericson: Oh not again!

Dick Morosi: Strike playing possum, tripping Furor up! Furor's down on his face, Strike's up! He's got Furor's legs, he's getting his hand around Furor's face...Luminaire Clutch locked in! This will be debilitating for Furor! If he can't get out of it, Strike can keep him in it as long as he likes and take all the fight out of Furor!

Seth Ericson: If Furor can't get out of this, we might as well consider this match over, he won't be able to fight off Strike burying him alive! And then I'm going to have to pay a bet I can't pay!

Dick Morosi: That seems to be the fate you're left to, Seth, I don't think Furor's got a way out of this on-OH MY GOD!

Seth Ericson: YES! Furor is too clever for Strike! He got a handful of dirt and threw it into the bastard's eyes! He can't see a thing!

Strike is blinded, and is forced to let go of Furor as he tries to get the dirt from his eyes. As he stumbles around, Furor sweeps his legs out from under him, sending Strike onto his back. Strike desperately rubs at his eyes, clearing them...just in time to see the sight of Christum Furor standing above him, holding the shovel up, readying to plunge it down into Strike's chest, point-first. He stabs down but fortunately for so many, Strike rolls out of the way at the same time, leaving Furor with a shovel stuck in the ground. He immediately abandons it, intending to take the fight back to Strike, only to receive a boot to the face from Strike immediately for his idea. He grabs the shovel and stands over Furor raising it above his head, ready to smash it into his face. He swings down, but Furor raises his arms and grabs it with both hands as it comes down. There is a brief struggle, but Furor manages to come out on top as he yanks it to the side at the same time he kicks Strike in the ribs, sending Strike stumbling down to the ground. Furor is quick to his feet and ready the shovel and, with the skill of a Major League slugger, swings it right into the mouth of Chris Strike.

The crowd goes silent as Strike falls to the dirt, the camera zooming in to capture the vacant, starry look of his eye, as blood begins to run from his mouth. He coughs once, blood splattering onto the camera and a tooth ejecting itself from his mouth onto the dirt. Furor starts to cackle as he delivers a sharp kick to Strike's side that sends him rolling into the hole. The crowd begins to grow furious, screaming at Furor as he begins to shovel dirt onto the prone body of Chris Strike, beginning the process of burying him alive and keeping the World Title for himself. But he pauses in his burying as As Furor continues to posture, it’s a strange surprise, but Chuck Matthews comes out along with his Matthews Enterprises security! Matthews starts having his security almost guarantee the protection of Furor.

Dick Morosi: Furor seems like he’s got to be excited over the victory.

Seth Ericson: But I don’t think people are going to take this laying down!

Indeed, this isn’t happening tonight. Fiona Collins runs out to take on the security! There’s Fiona! Wulf Erikssen! Steve Lenton! DRAGONS UNLEASHED! Angela Jameson! Even RW students like Black Jones and Sydney Christensen have come down to align with the Sekigun tonight as the group one by one goes after Matthews Enterprises security! The Sekigun has vowed tonight that they will not go quietly into the good night, and even more have shown up! Simon Raines! Caleb Storm! Black Jones! Jackie the Lad! Christian Kane! Lexy Chapel! Tonight, everyone has come to save EXODUS Pro! Even Tom Higashikata has sent down all remaining Based Empire members! AND THERE IS THE MASKED SALARYMAN! The Salaryman is taking on several security members at the same time!

Dick Morosi: WE WILL NOT BOW, MATTHEWS! FUROR! LET US SEE EXODUS FIGHT!!

Furor looks around amongst the chaos, seeing it all. Chuck motions very calmly to the back,and more and more security flood out from the back, flanking the Sekigun and attacking them with clubs. The Sekigun fight back valiantly, but are overwhelmed. Chuck motions for some of the security, four in total, to protect him if worst comes to worst.

Dick Morosi: There’s more and more of them. I don’t know if the Sekigun can handle this!

Seth Ericson: There is just too many, but they’re still fighting!

It is at this point that we see a figure roll out in his wheelchair. Andreas Lasiewicz himself begins to wheel his way through all of the anarchy. They seem to part in his presence. Chuck points him out in the crowd, yet Furor motions to let him through.

Dick Morosi: Dammit, Lasiewicz is here to just watch all of this. He said the Sekigun was going to die and now he wants to witness it first hand. Damn him. Damn Chuck. Damn Furor!

Seth Ericson: J-just… DAMN!

He wheels his way up, in his hands a funeral wreath. He parks his chair next to Matthews, staring out emotionlessly at the carnage before him. Some of the security start tearing down parts of the set, using them as weapons against the outnumbered Sekigun. On this night, none of the Sekigun will be denied, and instead of just folding, they continue on! Suddenly, even more reinforcements continue to help! Former wrestlers turned EXODUS staff like Tom Matheny and senior official Brian Lowery coming to help the Sekigun and wrestlers prevent this mayhem. Tonight, nothing will stop them, and finally, it looks like there may be some hope yet for the Sekigun as it seems the security is starting to fall down one by one! Chucks looks around and orders his private force to join the fray, yet they do not budge.

Dick Morosi: Is there mutiny in the ranks here?

Seth Ericson: Bitch, there might be! Those four are not moving a muscle.

Chuck points at them, ordering them to attack, but the masked force still don’t move. Then one finally steps forward, pulling off his mask as the others follow suit one by one.

Dick Morosi: IT’S JONATHAN COLLINS! OH MY GOD!

Seth Ericson: AND ADRIEN COCHRANE! AND DARRIN STEARNS!

Dick Morosi: AND CHANDLER SCOTT!

Chuck takes a step back, cool as anything, confused as to why this has happened. He then begins to laugh, laugh uncontrollably at what he is witnessing. He strokes his hands through his hair as his defeated laughter continues on. He turns to walk away, but Lasiewicz is in his wheelchair blocking the way.

And then he stands.

Dick Morosi: WHAT THE…?

Seth Ericson: THE AUDIENCE HAS COME UNGLUED! ANDREAS LASIEWICZ JUST STOOD UP!

Chuck goes pale, looking upon the figure of Andreas Lasiewicz stood before him. The Morning Star throws down the wreath, revealing the symbol of The Turks, the very same baton that Jonathan Collins used earlier on in the night to beat down Daisuke. Chuck lets out one last bout of laughter before Lasiewicz knocks him clean out with the baton!

Dick Morosi: AND CHUCK IS OUT! WHAT HAS HAPPENED HERE?

Seth Ericson: Was this all a ruse? Was this the plan all along? Did Lasiewicz and Collins pull the wool over everyone’s eyes?

Collins and Lasiewicz nod at each other, before embracing. Looking at Andreas, he then turns to Chandler and Adrien, letting them know it’s time to finish the mission, the four of them going out into the chaos to stop the security from ruining the ending of the match. Meanwhile, Furor starts to cackle maniacally, the camera capturing the bug-eyed look of madness he gives to everyone as he begins to scream at them, the camera luckily close enough to capture his words.

Christum Furor: YOU THINK THIS MATTERS?! YOU TRICKED ME BUT IT'S NOT ENOUGH COLLINS, LASIEWICZ! I AM STILL BURYING YOUR LAST HOPE! I, CHRISTUM FUROR! I AM ETERNAL! I AM A GOD! I WILL REIGN OVER THIS PLACE FOR AN ETERNITY, EVEN IF IT'S ALONE! AND THERE IS NO ONE WHO CAN STOP ME!

And, as Furor and the crowd watches, Furor's words are stopped dead in their tracks as a hand bursts out of the dirt in the grave. The crowd goes silent along with Furor as the War Machine begins to pull himself out of the dirt, out of the grave, still alive. He climbs over the edge of the grave, and stands tall, staring down Furor. His WEAPON costume is torn. He is black-eyed, he bleeds from his nose and his mouth. But still he stands, facing the madman. And Furor, for the first time anyone can remember, is slack-jawed, unable to find a word as he stares at the man who rose from the dead. With a roar, Strike charges Furor, who remains motionless, unable to act as Strike leaps, legs going around Furor's head as he hits the Ultima WEAPON, throwing Furor into the grave!

Dick Morosi: My God! My God! Strike rose from the grave to face down Christum Furor, and he's left Furor in the grave!

Seth Ericson: I...I can't believe what I saw....

Dick Morosi: Neither can this crowd, they're just staring silently...no, no, that's not true, they're starting to come alive as Strike falls to his knees, forgoing the shovel and pushing the dirt onto Furor with his body weight!

Seth Ericson: Before our very eyes, Christum Furor is disappearing.

Dick Morosi: The man who has held EXODUS in his grasp for a year is being buried alive, and wait! The referee is pushing Strike away from the grave!

Seth Ericson: What for?!

Dick Morosi: Because....because he's done it! THE REFEREE IS ANNOUNCING THAT CHRISTUM FUROR HAS BEEN BURIED ALIVE!

David Zinkus: Ladies and gentlemen, I am so proud to say these words....YOUR WINNER! AND YOUR NEW EXODUS PRO WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION! CHRIS! STRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE!

The referee brings the world title that Strike has fought through so much to obtain, and he takes it, hugging it close to himself as if to insure that it's truly real, and begins to openly cry. He clutches it tight as he falls to the ground, the crowd coming alive and showering the new champion with perhaps the heaviest cheers ever heard at an EXODUS event. He brings the title to his face, kissing it deeply, leaving it stained with his blood and tears, both of which he shed to earn it. He shakily comes to his feet and holds the title above his head, the cheers managing to somehow grow as Strike's friends and family join in on this moment so long in coming.

WINNER (and NEW EXODUS Pro World Champion): Chris Strike

Dick Morosi: THE NEW AGE IS DEAD! HAIL THE WAR MACHINE!

Seth Ericson: Oh. My. God.

Dick Morosi: EXODUS lives to see the future both Strike and Jonathan Collins envisioned together! Chris Strike is your new World Champion!

Indeed he is, and as members of the Sekigun place The War Machine on their shoulders, a fireworks display caps off the evening, and the resounding crowd chanting "ALL WILL BE WELL!" can be heard throughout the arena, friends and loved ones embracing this major victory, we fade to copyright. Goodnight, everyone!