EXPRO On FX #32

The house lights in the arena go out completely, 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 the beginning of “No More Regrets” by Arch Enemy blares out of the PA system, green spotlights beginning to swirl all across the arena. The LCD screen zones down from the heavens onto a field filled with high grass covering it and the wind beating against it…and at its center, there is one man standing and as he opens his way and lifts his head up, lightning strikes him down!

As the lightning hits the man at the center, streams of smoke shoot up from the ramp way area and high above, covering the entrance ramp as the song kicks into full motion, as Reika Seragaki emerges from the smoke first to heavy boos from the crowd and Chris Strike follows behind her in a three-piece white suit with matching tie and Brazil flag cufflinks, slowly stepping 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 – EXODUS Pro World Heavyweight title held high as the smoke emerges higher and pyros shoot out 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, ignoring any distractions in his way while Reika Seragaki follows him from behind.

… Never again!
NOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO MORE REGRETS!
WHAT’S DONE IS DONE, CAN’T BE ERASED!
KNOW! KNOW YOUR REGRETS...SAVOR THE BITTER AFTERTASTE!!!!!

Chris then makes his way up the ring stairs, using the steel pole for support, putting his right foot over the middle rope while Reika Seragaki slides inside the ring. 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 while Reika Seragaki is just right behind him. Chris Strike slowly raises the EXODUS Pro World Heavyweight title in the air, savoring the moment as the crowd boos him with a grin while Reika applauds him, sitting themselves in the middle rope and allowing the champion to go under it with ease. He looks around at the crowd, raising the EXODUS Pro World title in the air again before walking to the nearest corner, leaning against the turnbuckle and observing his surroundings while Reika Seragaki grabs them a pair of microphones, casually tossing one in Strike's direction for him to catch while they retain the other.

Dick Morosi: And our newly crowned World champion is here and Seth, the reaction for this man is anything but warm.

Seth Ericson: Something has changed within the World champion and our fans are smart enough to tell the difference. This is not the same man who buried Christum Furor six feet under and helped save EXODUS Pro, Dick...

Reika clears their throat for a moment, looking at the entirety of the RIMAC with nothing more than disdain before finally speaking up.

Reika Seragaki: ...Ladies and gentlemen...since Zinkus over there is too much of a doofus to do the proper honors himself like he should, allow me the distinct pleasure to introduce to you...your REIGNING! DEFENDING! UNDISPUTED EXODUS PRO WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION...CHRIIIIIIIISSSSS...STRIIIIIIKEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

More boos rain down on the basis of Reika's voice going up the kind of octane you'd expect from a man. Throughout the boos, there is a very small "TRANNY" chant that starts...and is quickly shut down by the rest of the RIMAC themselves with louder boos.

Reika Seragaki: ...I heard that. It doesn't matter. Anyone with half a brain knows this place, for all the liberal spirit it exhibits, still has nothing more than a community filled with pricks, bigots, douchebags and all else in between...

The loud jeering continues, as the camera pans over on Chris Strike's face, leaning in one of the corners and rolling his eyes while holding on to the EXODUS Pro World title.

Reika Seragaki: But don't say we didn't tell you so. Because at Repetition of Hatred, while around crowds who are willing to give him the respect that he deserves, Chris Strike corrected an injustice done to him and took back what is rightfully his from Abigail Park, thus sending our plucky little short-changed "Hero" back down to the bottom of the barrel where she is MOST comfortable in.

The smile grows on the face of the manager as they continue on even through some of the complaints and jeers from our viewing audience, a small but strong "ABBY" chant emerging from the RIMAC.

Reika Seragaki: You can cheer and chant her name all you want, but it doesn't change the reality that she couldn't cut it at this stage. Your hero has failed you. Just like all heroes before her have failed you and how all heroes after her will fail you. But then again, you people are used to failure...not just from your heroes, but from your own ranks. You see, my client...

Reika points out Chris Strike in the corner. The boos come down like rain.

Reika Seragaki: My client, your World champion...that's somebody that you people have failed. You have failed him ever since he managed to get his hands on the World championship for the first time and a part of me has to wonder why...why in the world would an audience just suddenly start turning their backs on a man who fought tooth and nail to help save this company and won its ultimate prize in the process? Certainly there must be some reasoning behind this great charade.

The smirk widened on Seragaki's face as the manager defiantly pointed at the crowd.

Reika Seragaki: Or maybe it's because you all truly are some of the most wishy-washy pricks I've had the displeasure to ever speak to in my life. Because seriously, you are all literally the worst.

Obvious nuclear heat at this point, enough to where the "ASSHOLE" chants begin raining down on the pair inside the ring. Reika lets them soak it all in before glancing back in Strike's direction as he's finally leaned off the corner and stepped towards the center of the ring, finally ready to speak his piece and instead of boos, he's met with a quiet reaction.

Chris Strike: ...Love is a funny thing, EXODUS Pro. See, nobody back there can doubt that I do love this company. That I would fight for this company against any force that threatens to end it like LEGION and Gods & Monsters nearly did. And in the process of doing that, you loved me for it. I received your adulation and your support like nobody's business and I am appreciative of that. It gives me great joy to step into that ring and to fight for an ideal, for something I believe in and your support has helped push me beyond my own boundaries at times. See, just like I fell in love with this company from my arrival, you seemed to have reciprocated that love since...

Strike takes a deep breath, sighing before he continued.

Chris Strike: That was, of course, until after the Autumn Effect and after me winning this World championship for the first time and the announcement shortly after it that I would face Abby Park in my first title defense.

Dick Morosi: It is true that responses were divided between both competitors on the road to Dead in Hollywood and some with a desire to see Abby Park capitalize on a chance she waited on for two years...

Chris Strike: By that time, I started to notice the gears shifting. A majority of you in this arena traveled to Anaheim and to Los Angeles, playing a part in all of it. And I started noticing it, too. Because since day 1, if there is something that EXODUS Pro fans have been notorious for doing, it's been rooting for a feel good story. They fall in love with anybody with a checkered past trying to make amends or a contender struggling through any and all odds to achieve an ultimate goal. Why else would you, dear audience, once attempt to cheer somebody as criminally insane as Zack Lifer? It’s puppy love. What you feel is nothing more than that. It’s fleeting. And when I won that World title and Abby Park stepped up to the plate…

The World champion snaps his fingers.

Chris Strike: Just like that, you got bored of my story. The thrill of the chase you had with living vicariously through Chris Strike was long gone and it was all aboard the Seoul Train and the impeccable finish to a two-year long odyssey of a plucky little girl livin’ in a lonely world. A new chase that all of you people were determined to see to its end, a brand new chase to embark while I...well, I was just chopped liver standing in the way of you all seeing the conclusion to your narrative. And in Los Angeles, you got that fitting conclusion and you got to live vicariously through Abigail Park...you got another happy ending, EXODUS Pro. Just like you wanted. No matter how much love I showed this company, no matter how much love I have for the fanbase that screams louder than most arenas across the world, I was just a plaything to you all...and when you were done, you tossed me aside like I was nothing.

The expression on Chris Strike’s face shifts into something that hasn’t been seen before in front of the cameras. Not the boiling rage he’s felt and unleashed on his enemies, not the determination that so many used to see him showcase night in and out...no, this is a face of pure disappointment.

Chris Strike: Am I bitter? Absolutely. Hurt? You bet your sweet ass I was hurt. Who doesn't feel a part of their heartbreak at rejection. You ask yourself every question you can think of, what, why, how come, and lord knows, between the skyrocketing rise of all jokes at the expense of the people who I call friends, the women that I choose to spend my time with and all other decisions about my life in between...for weeks and weeks, I kept questioning exactly what the hell did I do to deserve this from you people. But at some point, whatever sadness and confusion I had as I kept losing again and again...it eventually turned to anger. And then, it drove me. It fed me, and at Repetition of Hatred, I unleashed every bit of it on Abigail Park and took back what is rightfully mine! And then I made the decision that when I stepped foot into the RIMAC again...like a bad ex, I was going to come back to wreck havoc on anybody who dares to try and take this championship away from me!

...Yup, after all of that? The boos become more definitive inside of the RIMAC, as Chris almost seems to bask in them as he widens his arms and throws on a defiant smirk towards the world.

Seth Ericson: ...Yeah, there’s something new about the guy. For once in my life, I don’t feel like he’s feeding the lot of us the usual b/s he’s been prone to doing. Unbelievable, Dick...

Chris Strike: So you can keep on dick riding whoever’s f**king sob story is the most popular of the week and switching up as many times as you need to. Just know that I will take the utmost pleasure of stomping each and every single one of them if they dare to try and take this championship from me. Whether you like it or not, I’m going to be your champion for a very, very long time and further mor-



The arena erupts as Chris Strike lowers his microphone and looks to the entrance way with a look of disgust etched upon his face. The World Champion shares a glance with Reika Seragaki, muttering something inaudibly to them before turning back towards the ramp.

Dick Morosi: Here comes Christian Kane, The Handsome Drifter is here!

As if on cue Kane steps through the curtain to a rapturous response from the fans in attendance at the RIMAC tonight. The Canadian immediately points the ground, declaring that “EXODUS is home, baby!” before pointing out at the people, garnering another loud response. Not yet in his ring gear, Kane wears a white Britney Spears ‘WORK B**CH’ tee under an unbuttoned sports jacket with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, black jeans and customised red and white ‘#STUDLIFE’ hightop Adidas Originals.

Seth Ericson: You know Dick, this has the potential to get ugly. More often than not Chris Strike and Christian Kane don’t share the ring without trying to maul each other.

The Handsome Drifter openly embraces the fans, trying to slap as many outstretched hands as possible as he makes his way down the ramp, certain sections of the crowd singing along to the timeless Bon Jovi classic as he does so. Reaching ringside, Kane looks up at Chris Strike who is now stood right by the ropes, with Reika not far behind him. The World Champion looks down at Christian Kane with disdain, his eyes following the number one contender as he slowly makes his way up the steel steps, picking up a microphone as he does so. He steps onto the apron and lifts his leg to enter the ring, but Strike blocks him from doing so, standing directly in front of the ropes.

Dick Morosi: Uh oh.

Seth Ericson: What did I tell you! Here we go!

The crowd boos Strike whilst Reika smirks at the action, yet the World Champion simply shrugs off the jeers of the fans - still standing in Kane’s way. Covering the microphone, Christian Kane motions over to Chris Strike and the camera picks him up saying “are you going to move?”. This prompts a “LET HIM IN” chant to start up across the arena which Strike notices with a scowl as he looks out at the people. With a scoff the War Machine makes a point of adjusting his World Title belt right in the face of Christian Kane before moving into the center of the ring, finally allowing the Handsome Drifter entry into the ring, which in it’s own right draws a loud cheer. Christian has a grin on his face, shaking his head at Strike’s immaturity before raising the microphone to his lips.

Christian Kane: I know how much you love the sound of your own voice, Chris, so I’d first and foremost like to apologise for interrupting you.

Almost instantly the crowd respond with a chant of “DON’T BE SORRY” which angers Reika, however Kane acknowledges the chant, holding the microphone out towards the crowd before directing back to himself.

Christian Kane: But you know I was sat in the back and I just couldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t come out here to address the drivel that you and your little...friend here seem intent on spouting.

He points to Seragaki who crosses her arms and rolls their eyes in response.

Dick Morosi: That’s exactly what it is, Seth! It’s drivel!

Seth Ericson: Would you rather him lie? He’s being honest with the people.

Dick Morosi: Oh, please.

Christian Kane: You see, champ, it’s as simple as this. You don’t own these people. Furthermore, these people...these great, great people? They don’t owe you a goddamn thing. How dare you expect them to adore you as if you were the be all and end all of professional wrestling. For someone who prides himself in being THE War Machine, you certainly seem extremely self-conscious about what these people think of you. These people didn’t turn on you, you turned on them a long time ago when you thought you could coast, and we both know that this business is fickle. If you don’t change, if you don’t evolve with the times you get left behind - and your whole ‘face of the company’ shtick? It got old, really quickly. No one here wants to see your face anymore. Every time you step through those curtains the mood in the arena turns just a shade bluer to the point where people just don’t want to see you step through those curtains anymore. When the soldiers come back from the war the people all cheer and hail them as heroes. ‘We won! We won!’. But as time passes, Chris...people just don’t care anymore.

The tension is palpable in the arena as Strike and Kane lock eyes and begin to stare a hole into the other. This goes on for a couple of seconds until Christian points out at the fans.

Christian Kane: These people can make you if you treat them right, or they can break you if you treat them wrong - I know that better than anyone in this company. When I arrived here I demanded their respect. I came in with this big money contract, all the clauses you could want. I had control over everything to do with me in this company and that got into my head. I didn’t think that I had to try, I just showed up, went through the motions and expected to do well. We all saw how that ended. I left, I returned nailed to a cross and truly believed that I was EXODUS’ Jesus. I’m sure that on that night whilst I entertained some of these people, I offended even more, and for that I can do nothing but apologise. My second run, we all know what happened there. You showed up and everything went downhill from there. With each passing day the hatred from the fans grew and grew to the point where I couldn’t go to bed without hearing these people boo. On the nights where I wasn’t blackout drunk my head hit the pillow and all I could hear were the chants these people directed at me.

Dick Morosi: Christian Kane referring to late 2013 where Chris Strike drove him out of EXODUS Pro with two successive iPPV victories against the Canadian.

Chris Strike shakes his head at Kane’s sob story-like tone, and goes to raise his microphone to his lips before Kane raises a hand and motions with it to stop him.

Christian Kane: I’m not finished. My point is, Chris, you can turn your back on these people but it’ll only lead you down a road of ruin. You’re a grown man, you are the EXODUS Pro World Champion - so I’m not going to tell you what to do with your life...but abandoning these people? Going through all the hardships I did as a direct result of doing so? I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. You can pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You could pretend like you’re not phased by these people booing you. But deep down? I know you well enough to know that it does bother you. Because inside your head and inside your heart is an innate want to be loved. Just like me. You can deny that, but I’ll always be man enough to admit it. You’ve been stagnant for so long and that’s because there are no more wars for you fight, War Machine. I have no problem saying that you were one of the greatest war generals that professional wrestling has ever seen...but right now?

The Handsome Drifter looks out at the crowd, then back to Strike.

Christian Kane: It’s peacetime.

Dick Morosi: That is a powerful statement made by Christian Kane.

The crowd roars in approval as Christian points at Strike’s shoulder, a steely look of determination in the Canadian’s blue eyes.

Christian Kane: Now I’ve been told that our next iPPV name, surprisingly enough - is ‘The War Isn’t Over Yet’ and I can understand why it may raise a few eyebrows. It may even worry some people and I understand that. But the name doesn’t reference EXODUS’ war with LEGION. It doesn’t reference EXODUS’ war with Gods & Monsters either. What it references...

Kane lowers the microphone, allowing the anticipation to build as the crowd’s silence almost seems deafening - the energy in the arena high. In a split second The Handsome Drifter gets right into the face of Chris Strike, bringing the microphone up to his mouth as he does so.

Christian Kane: ...is the war between you and me.

It happens so quickly that the War Machine doesn’t have enough time to react as Kane moves away from him, holding the microphone out to the crowd as they almost blow the roof off of the RIMAC!

Dick Morosi: There’s your confirmation, people! It’s going to be Chris Strike versus Christian Kane for the EXODUS Pro World Championship! Wow!

Christian Kane: Undoubtedly it’s the worst kept secret in professional wrestling history, but at The War Isn’t Over Yet...I’m going to end the war when I give the people what they want - you losing your title. Your public narrative was that our encounter at the first Autumn Effect was our final one but did you think that I of all people was just going to sit idly by whilst you disrespect the people who made you? Right here in the middle of this ring we are going to put on the greatest wrestling match that this company has ever seen, and I’m going to win the EXODUS Pro World Championship not just for myself...but for each and every one of these people! Come whatever may I will stand tall and I will stand for these people who pay their hard earned money every two weeks to attend an EXODUS Pro event and allow me to live my dream. I won’t let you, your friend or anyone else get in the way of that. I love this company much more than you could ever know. I sweat for this company. I cried for this company. I bled for this company. When push came to shove I stood beside you for this company and the only one of us that complained about it was you! I was no angel, but you’ve been the devil all along and now we can all see your horns. If you think you can reign over this company treading over the people who’ve built it then you’re in for a surprise - this is my time, Chris. This is the people’s time. I am The New Hope.

The adulation in the RIMAC for the “Handsome Drifter” is unprecedented, as the crowd begins to chant for the number one contender to the EXODUS Pro World Heavyweight championship. Strike lets them. In fact, he even raises his left arm mockingly and waves them on to do it before bringing the microphone back to his lips.

Chris Strike: And you said this wasn’t personal…

At this point, the World champion can’t hold back from smirking once again, even in what has now become hostile territory.

Chris Strike: I get it, Christian. They gave you new life. They gave you a chance when everybody else in the wrestling world smartened up to how much of a deranged individual you are, once again showcasing that all they care about is vicariously living through yet another feel good story. I’d give you the warnings on how you’re going to get thrown away sooner or later, but I’ll spare you the diatribe. Hell, I’ll even agree that I’m no longer fit to bear the title of “War Machine” given the circumstances and why I’m passing it on to more capable, fitting hands later on tonight.

Another set of cheers here, as a small “CAREY DEAN” chant breaks out from Section B.

Chris Strike: Yes, yes, him indeed, people. But before I get myself to the back and get ready to dismantle GRENDEL piece by piece, I want to leave you with a little something to think on, Christian. Given how kind you’ve been to run down my reputation even though I’ll never stoop to your level of belittling others for their sexual orientation, preferences, looks or slutshame women on the basis that they won’t partake in the same bed as you or never go as far as committing adultery like you’ve been known for doing…

And now, those cheers go to boos and a few shocked expressions from the crowd as Chris Strike gets right up in the number one contender’s face.

Chris Strike: You know what you did to wrong me over these many years. You have continuously taken liberties and pot shots at my family, at my country, at my people...you went as far as trying to use the likeliness of my deceased wife to get a leg up on me mentally and then you tried to end my career and you...you don’t get to hide that shit under the fact that you’re now being supported by the most fickle pieces of shit I’ve had the displeasure of witnessing paying money to see me wrestle. You don’t get to play the martyr card like you’re the good person here, because you’re not. And if you wanna say that The War Isn’t Over Yet...then fine. Fine. ...It’s not over yet. But by the time it’s over…

Chris Strike adjusts the championship belt across his shoulder and takes a step forward, moving past the challenger to his title, his back to the man without even so much as looking back.

Chris Strike: You’re going to wish it had been over two years ago...let’s go, Reika.

Dropping the microphone on those marks, both Chris Strike and Reika Seragaki make their way out towards the apron, exiting out of it to nuclear heat at this point in time as Arch Enemy’s “No More Regrets” starts playing over the PA as Christian Kane stares at the duo retreating up the ramp, indicating that he was coming for that damn title with belt notions while Strike raised the belt up in the air with his right hand.

Dick Morosi: Folks, this war between both men may very well exceed anything they’ve been capable of doing to each other over the years…

Seth Ericson: New sides to both men since their last encounter, but believe me...no matter what happens, these two will be bitter enemies until their dying breath.

TRIPLE THREAT MATCH
JUSTIN BROOKS (EXODUS Pro International Champion) vs. ABBY PARK vs. DEVAN WHITMORE

David Zinkus: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is a Three Way Match, and is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first...

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.



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.

David Zinkus: From Nashville, Tennessee, USA, and weighing in at 118lbs... ABBY PAARRRKKKK! And her opponent...

The lights dim to an eerie yellow glow throughout the arena. The Tron flickers to life with the Sith Code in burning red letters for the world to see. It is followed by a silhouette of Devan Whitmore as "Long Way Down" begins to blast from the speakers.



Devan emerges from the back, cloaked in her floor length Sith robes, the hood partially covering her face. She stands at the top of the stage, arms held out wide and her head in the air, eyes closed, seemingly in a state of meditation. The crowd boos loudly as she stands there, unmoving, not at all acknowledging the riled up fans.



David Zinkus: Making her way to the ring, hailing from Townsend, Delaware, USA, weighing in at 130 pounds... She is the Mistress of the Sith... DEVAAAAAAN WHITMOOOOOORE

At this point, Devan has opened her eyes and has begun making way down the ramp. There is a sly grin on her face as she absorbs the disapproval of the raucous fans, holding her hands in front of her face as if she were praying.



Devan climbs the ring steps and walks to the middle of the apron, reaching for the hood of her robes. Facing away from the cameras, she slowly allows the robes to fall from her shoulders, slowly down her body to the floor below, revealing her in all her curvy glory.



She grasps the top rope and with complete ease and grace, flips herself into the ring. The crowd continues to boo as she bows immodestly in the middle of the ring, taunting her haters and opponent. She backs up into the corner, a smirk on her face, bouncing from one foot to the other, ready for the impending match.

David Zinkus: And finally, their opponent...

[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 14 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 Atlanta, Georgia, USA...standing at 6'4" and 267 pounds, he is your EXODUS Pro International Champion... JUSTIN BROOOKKKSSSS!

[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, showing off the Title he has strapped around it. “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 he runs his tongue over the front of his teeth. Removing the belt, Justin just leaps to the second turnbuckle and throws his hands in the air, holding the belt aloft, before leaping down from the turnbuckle.

Seth Ericson: This should be good. Both Devan and Abby are looking to redeem some big recent losses, whilst Brooks is definitely out to cement his position as a champion.

Brian Lowery takes the title from Brooks, and hands it to the timekeeper. With that, he turns, and calls for the bell. Wearily, the threesome eye each other up, all waiting for someone else to make the first move. It’s Abby who does, suddenly unleashing a kick to the midsection of Devan. She follows up with punches, backing Whitmore up into the corner, as Brooks positions himself behind her. As she lands Devan in the corner, Brooks grabs Park from behind, spinning her round and connecting with a midsection kick of his own. Looking to go for a massively early finish, he picks her up in a Fireman’s Carry, signalling for the Hook N’ Ladder. Devan, however, jumps out of the corner, pulling Abby off of Justin’s back, and following up with a Double Knee Backbreaker, quickly cutting the monster down to size. She tries to follow up, but Abby is back up and running, delivers a series of quick stomps to keep Devan back. She pulls the Sith Lady up, and sends her reeling with a Backhand Chop.

Dick Morosi: Our former World Champion now establishing herself as the force to be reckoned with in this ring.

As Devan staggers into the corner, Abby follows up, with a series of kicks to the midsection, using the ropes to keep herself balanced as she does. She follows with an Elbow Strike, then another, only stopping when Justin comes crashing into her from behind, crushing both Park and Whitmore against the ringpost with a huge Body Avalanche. He takes Abby, and brings her crashing to the mat with a Spinebuster as Devan flops out of the corner. He goes for the pin.

ONE


Kickout!

Seth Ericson: Quick kickout from Park. She’s not a former World Champ for nothing.

Undaunted, Justin goes for a cover on Devan too!

ONE



TWO

Kickout! Devan gets the shoulder up! Undeterred, Brooks gets straight up, and spying Abby rising connects with a huge kick to her ribs. Quickly manhandling her upright, he sends her running into the ring ropes, only to be taken off guard as she returns, connecting with a Seoul Train!

Dick Morosi: Brooks just caught a ride on the Seoul Train! What a High Knee!

Seth Ericson: Everyones going big straight off the bat, trying to get a quick pin whilst the other opponent is napping!

She goes for the pin!


ONE



TW-

Devan breaks up the pin with a Soccer Kick to the head! Abby rolls off of Brooks and onto her feet, looking to mount a defence as Devan follows up, first with an Forearm Smash, then a kick to the calf. Abby quickly barrels back with a Haymaker punch, followed by a Backhand Chop, then another, before whipping Whitmore into the ringpost back first. Grunting from the impact, Devan uses the ricochet to her advantage, charging straight back out of the corner and taking Park down with a Leg Lariat, following up for the pin!

ONE

Brooks breaks it up with a Double Axe Handle smash to Whitmore’s back. Grabbing a handful of hair and her waist band, he picks Devan up, and throws her out of the ring between the middle and top ropes. Turning back to Abby, he connects with a hard Soccer Kick to her ribs, punting her into the corner. As she curls up, trying to defend herself, he starts letting loose with stomps, using the ropes to give himself additional leverage. Breaking her guard, he takes and arm, and lifting her to her feet sends her running into the opposite turnbuckle. He charges straight after her, but is caught as she hoists herself up with the ropes, connecting with a rope assisted Front Dropkick. As he staggers back, she charges forward, only to be cut off as he bursts into life with a huge Spear, driving her down to the mat. As he steps back, and shouts for her to stand so her can finish it, Devan slides into the ring. Brooks goes for a Clothesline, but Whitmore ducks, and as Brooks turns he gets sent staggering with a Roundhouse Kick. Abby charges, but Devan senses it coming, and connects with a perfectly timed Pele Kick!

Seth Ericson: Devan Whitmore is back in the game, and cleaning house! Taking her time to get her bearings on the outside seems to be paying off.

Brooks is charging in, but Devan sidesteps the Shoulderblock, grabbing a quick Headlock as he passes, and reversing the attack into a Springboard Bulldog. She’s up just in time to see Abby charging her down, and connects with a Roundhouse Kick, sending Park flying. Seeing her opponents both down on the mat, she takes a moment to taunt the crowd, reveling in the chorus of jeers that rain down upon her. Pointing to Brooks, who has got himself onto one knee, she charges forward, looking for the Kessel Run, but is caught by surprise as Abby Park charges her down with a Seoul Train! Abby goes for the pin!

ONE



TWO



THR-

Brooks breaks up the pin, a stomp to the back of Abby’s head doing the job. He quickly pulls her up, and shoves her into the corner. He follows up, going for a Leaping Clothesline, but she side steps, letting him catch the ringpost in his chest. Taking advantage, she starts letting loose with Elbow Strikes to the back of his head, trying to take the fight out of the big man.

Dick Morosi: Abby nearly had this thing one, Seth, I don’t think she’s taking Brooks’ interruption lightly.

Park’s assault only relents when she finds herself suddenly tumbling backwards, as Devan takes her over with a Schoolgirl!

ONE



TWO



Kickout!

Seth Ericson: Cheeky move from Devan there, and she almost stole this one.

She looks to Brooks, not seeing Park as she stands, only looking too late as she gets caught with another Seoul Train! She turns to Brooks, only to discover he’s already charging her, as he takes her down to the mat with a massive Spear! Devan spins him around as he stands, but only gets a boot to the midsection for her trouble, as he lifts her up, and onto his shoulders, before hitting the Hook N’ Ladder! Abby’s still not stirring, as Brooks goes for the pin on Devan.

ONE



TWO



THREE!

David Zinkus: Ladies and gentlemen, your winner for this match, by way of pinfall... your EXODUS Pro International Champion... JUSTIN BROOKS!

“By Any Means” kicks out over the PA, as Brooks stands, looking down at the two women sprawled on the mat. As Lowery presents him with his belt, he snatches it out of his hands, holding it aloft with one hand, and beating his chest with the other.

Dick Morosi: Well, this was no title match, but in taking out a former World Champion and a young up and comer in the same match, Brooks has proven that he’s a Champion to be reckoned with.

Seth Ericson: And long may he reign, that’s what I say.

Dick Morosi: That’s what you always say.

Brooks has left the ring, and is strutting out of the arena, his belt held high, as the crowd continue to boo him.

WINNER: Justin Brooks

The camera cuts backstage where the distinct sound of swinging doors was as loud as thunder, the dark shade of night in the backdrop penetrated by a pair of familiar brown eyes with a devious grin below. A chorus of boos reverberates throughout the arena, Zack Lifer's hood sliding down to the nape of his neck once again.

In the fluorescent light, something indescribable looks different about the man. The way he moved, the attitude he possessed all seemed that much more confident, a natural smirk adorn his face. With a spread of his arms, he greeted everyone who would listen to his signature tenor voice, shouting as loud as he could.

Zack Lifer: I'm baaaack!

Nobody aside from the crowd seemed to react to the sudden outburst, not one person backstage turning to see what the commotion was all about. The madman's expression changed, slightly less confident while he slipped his dark hood over his head once more, covering his messy helmet of brown hair.

Sucking on his lower lip, his bloodshot eyes scanned his surroundings, a hand reaching to itch at his forearm. He turned to his side, supposedly listening to someone speak to him inside his own tormented skull littered with conflict.

Zack Lifer: No, it… That doesn’t feel quite as satisfying as I thought it would…

His neck slumped down towards his sneakers, he stumbled forward, eyes peering upwards to watch where he was going with dangerous intent. Spotting a familiar face holding a mop and minding his own business, the schizophrenic ‘hero’ approached him, a simple nod of the head.

Zack Lifer: Sven. Get ready to clean up buckets of blood now that I’m back in business, okay? Happy entrails and all that. That’s what you like doing, hm? What you were born to do? We’ll help each other out then. I’ll mess these floors up in every arena, you clean ‘em back up, and we’ll both keep our jobs til they shove us in a couple of bodybags, how’s that sound?

He patted the big man on the back, a fabricated smile adorn the madman’s face while he spoke to the janitor with a jovial tone.

Zack Lifer: You and me. Partners in crime. Deal?

He reached out a hand, dried blood still coating his fingernails from his time in the Blackthorn Asylum, head tilted slightly to the left. As Sven continues to mop and dust, he looks over at Lifer. For the first time, the people see the fact that Sven is actually a giant, towering close to seven feet as he looks down at Lifer.

Sven: ...no. You’re a bad man, Mr. Lifer.

Sven, without any form of hesitation grabs his mop and bucket, and slowly walks away, saying nothing more to Lifer while he moves on to cleaning something else far from the returning Lifer. Sighing, Zack stumbles in the opposite direction, his attempt at making a friend squandered before it even began.

Zack Lifer: It’s gonna be a long night, isn’t it?

Lifer sighs as we head to commercial.