Recent Posts

We come back from commercial, and Jonathan Collins and Darrin Stearns happen to be sitting around Jon's office not long after his GFC Tag Team Title defense, wiping the sweat off his brow as he comes to sit with both Darrin Stearns and their new charge, Carey Caldwell. Jon comes to sit at his desk, the two men looking at him.

Darrin Stearns: Just like you asked, man.

Jon looks at Carey, who looks visibly annoyed at him for even bringing him around right now.

Carey Caldwell: You had me set up a ring, help a midget with the soundboard, and tall and lanky's been babysitting me all evening. What gives, man?

Jonathan Collins: You're paying your dues, just like I hoped you would. I'm going to guess you didn't give Darrin too much of an issue, or Mr. Mandeep?

Carey Caldwell: Mr. Mandeep? Who the hell is Mr. Mand--that midget? Yeah, I just...Payton used to talk about how you guys were all like family. I didn't wanna mess that up for her when she wakes up.

Jon nods as he glances at Carey, reaching to pat his back.

Jonathan Collins: Don't worry, man. We're gonna make sure things are good when she's fine again. For now, I have a gift for you. I called on a couple friends of mine to help you make sure you're prepared for this.

Jon gets up and goes over to the door, opening it up to show him...White Phoenix and Jimmy Riley.

Jonathan Collins: Jimmy's going to teach you chain wrestling. He's going to make sure you know how to counter and take care of everything. He's also going to help you make smarter life decisions, because Lord knows you could use it. And Phoenix? Phoenix is going to give you the basics and then some. When they say you're ready, I'm going to finish the job. By the time the three of us are done, you're going to be ready to take on anyone from a guy your size to the Deacon himself.

Carey looks over the two men and then back to Jonathan, visibly upset.

Carey Caldwell: So I have to wait even more?

Jonathan Collins: Yeah, but it's for the best. Would you rather go in blind or go in prepared and even better than people expect?

Carey sighs, reluctantly conceding the point to Jonathan.

Jonathan Collins: Go on, man. We'll talk next week when you're backstage with Darrin.

Carey walks off, Jimmy and Phoenix with him as he turns to Darrin.

Jonathan Collins: I hope this works.

Darrin Stearns: Yeah, me too...otherwise I'm never gonna have a normal show again.

Jonathan laughs and looks at his friend, shaking his head as we go back to Dick and Seth.

Dick Morosi: Carey Caldwell looks like he's going to have a hell of a pedigree.

Seth Ericson: If he doesn't self destruct first.

Dick Morosi: If you wanna talk about destructive forces, we've got two coming up next when Christum Furor meets Christian Kane in a non-title match...next!

NORMAL MATCH
CHRISTUM FUROR (EXODUS PRO World Champion) VS. CHRISTIAN KANE



David Zinkus: The following contest is scheduled for one fall.



The guitars and drums of the timeless Bon Jovi classic kick in throughout the arena as Christian Kane makes his way through the curtain and onto the stage. Red and white lights focus on the Canadian Sensation and flash rapidly, drawing attention to him as the lights quickly begin to illuminate his silhouette.

David Zinkus: Introducing first. From Toronto, Ontario, Canada - weighing in tonight at two hundred and twenty six pounds. He is the “Canadian Sensation”! Christian! KANE!

With a smirk Kane instantly proceeds to strut down the ramp as he slicks back his hair. He stops at ringside, looking around the arena with a wry smile on his face which quickly turns to disgusted scowl as the fans in the RIMAC arena let Kane know exactly what they think of him. As the music continues to play, Kane waves a dismissive hand and makes his way around to the left side of the ring, walks up the steel steps then climbs the turnbuckle.

With one foot on the top turnbuckle and one on the second rope, Kane holds his arms out to his side and tenses his muscles, inciting an extremely loud negative reaction from the audience in attendance once more. His signature smirk now replaced by a frown, Kane now hops off the turnbuckle and into the ring.

Walking across the ring the Canadian Sensation jumps on the second rope, blowing a sarcastic kiss into the crowd as jeers rain out from the die-hard EXODUS Pro faithful. As the music slowly fades, Kane hops off the rope and walks to his corner, preparing for the match ahead.

Dick Morosi: CK is coming off a great match and victory over Kameron Chase two weeks ago. That ended any doubt about whether Henrik really had anything left in the tank. Needless to say, he answered those questions emphatically.

Seth Ericson: But now he’s got another question - can he hang with the best in the world. He’s about to step into the ring with the EXODUS World Champion. This is the type of opportunity he came back for - this and kicking Brett Sands’ ass.

Dick Morosi: Indeed. Christian Kane wants that last hurrah. He wants to prove to the world that he still climb to the top of the mountain. Tonight he has the opportunity to build toward that goal.

Seth Ericson: Or get buried by it, by this man.

The lights suddenly dim in the arena; the venue fills with a dark, and ominous ambiance. Those in their seats stand in anticipation, and those already standing flourish their disdain, and soon the arena swells with noise. Now the lights cast only vague silhouettes and shadows - the only source of illumination are the
located throughout the setting. Knowing full-well of what's to come, the first few rows of attendance flock to the guardrails near the aisle, everyone turning their heads to the entrance. Only then does the overhead tron come aglow with life, accompanied by the slow, foreboding feedback and guitar of In Flames' single, "The Quiet Place". As the video fades in, the infamous superstar is captured in a a mere pose lacking of color - only in harsh white and black values. It builds slowly with a somewhat grim feeling to it, capturing the villain's in-ring composure before the bout itself. Then, as the verse comes in, a spotlight shines on the velvet curtain that veils the entrance way -it soon begins to sway, and is then parted by the self-proclaimed New Age Champion who comes to stand in full view of the masses, EXODUS World Championship around his waist, the burlap sack covering his countenance. An uproar from the patrons sounds, nauseated and enraged to see the Michigander once more as he outstretches his arms out by his side and tilts his head back slightly, taking in a deep breath to fully immerse himself in the detestation of the crowd.

The leader of Gods & Monster's leather jacket glistens and shines in the light from above, under it his singlet for the evening, outlined in Red and Black with various "G&M" insignia etched throughout. Completing his attire are kneepads, a pair of black boots, and taped wrists from knuckle to forearm. The man rechristened as Christum Furor gazes far in the direction of the squared circle and begins to walk casually, a slow methodical saunter - leading his arms to dangle loosely, a sort of swagger and sway emphasizing a very self-assured yet calculated competitor.

David Zinkus: 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!

At the mention of his name, the man who could quite simply be likened to the lord of the flies flanks to the side of the aisle and hops onto the railings, flinging a leg over to straddle it in an attempt to stand over those looking on. Furor, like any true antagonist, poses once more in his crucifix pose as more fans scramble to get closer to him to shout their obscenities, leaving those too far away to settle for jeering from afar.



Christum drops down off the barricade to continue his march to the ring, glancing calmly at the onlookers.

"Judge me now
Used to be afraid to let it show, bow down
A king in my own mind
Everything's in place so much brighter from today"

He knees up onto the apron, replacing said knee with a foot as he comes to a stand along the ropes. He continues along the aisle-side, and as he approaches the turnbuckle closest to the camera, he plants a foot onto the second turnbuckle and comes to stand tall over the sea of people. Afterward he removes his championship, holding it his hand - and for the third and final time he comes to pose with his martyr-esque symbolism.



He drops down and slips between the middle and top ropes, the house lights now making a slow return to their normal fixture while Christum Furor comes to a stride next to Zinkus. He hands him the World Championship, before quickly disrobing and handing his jacket to a ring tech to take care of. The madman then backs into the nearest corner which he perches and slinks down into, removing his mask as he rests his head against the second pad and his mid-back against the first. He bends one leg so his knee sticks upward, the other left to lie flat in a quarter turn. "The Quiet Place" fades out, the electricity of those in attendance coming to a fever pitch as they continue to sound in preparation for the start of the match.

Dick Morosi: The World Champion has said numerous times that he regards Christian Kane as a friend. I doubt his sincerity, and you can believe he’ll be trying to use Kane to send a message to the Sekigun.

Seth Ericson: Of course he is, why wouldn’t he? Gods & Monsters took the loss two weeks ago, and now he’s in the ring with a guy who could legitimately give him all he can handle. I guarantee that he’ll be trying to send Christian home in a body bag.

Dick Morosi: But if they’re friends, won’t this be a friendly competition?

Seth Ericson: You’re my friend Dick, and I want to murder you on a daily basis. Take that for what’s worth.

*DING! DING! DING!*

As the bell sounds both men collide in the ring in a collar and elbow tie. They struggle momentarily before Furor gets the upperhand, quickly and swiftly releasing Kane before maneuvering behind him, whilst applying a rear waistlock. The World Champion lifts Christian off his feet before violently slamming him onto his chest. Caught off guard by Furor’s mat-wrestling ability, Kane quickly lifts up onto all fours in a desperate attempt to get back to his feet. However, Christum is not going to allow him to do so, instead he quickly hooks his arm around Kane’s head and between his legs before flipping forward, coercing the Canadian Sensation onto his back. The Toronto native finds himself in a bad position, but manages to escape just before Chris Dawson can make the count. Both competitors immediately scramble to their feet, with Furor beating him to the blocks as he goes for a Lariat. The attack misses as Kane lowers his head in time to evade the attack, then steps behind his foe whilst lifting his arm and hooking it around his Furor’s. He does the same with the second, and attempts a Backslide whilst Furor tries to block. Indeed, the World Champion finds himself in a perilous predicament, and he is unable to stop Kane from dragging him down and stacking him onto his shoulders - however, he manages to break free time before the pinfall can be acknowledged.

The madman transitions to all fours as CK towers over top of him, the well-traveled veteran quickly grappling him by the head. As he begins to lift Furor to a vertical base, Christum exploits the momentum to suddenly break free from Kane’s grasp, and in one fluid motion doubles him over with a toe kick to solar plexus. The World Champion then applies a gut-wrench and lifts Kane onto his shoulders. Having scouted the move, Kane slithers and wriggles until he is free from Furor’s claws, sliding down to the canvas to end up behind his adversary. Once on the canvas, Kane backs up a few feet then gets himself into striking position. Looking to investigate his opponent’s whereabouts, the twisted misanthropist turns around, just in time to see a Superkick- sent boot come straight at his visage. Either expecting it, or having incredible reflexes, he avoids SSK by falling to the canvas and rolling back. Both men retreat back a few few afterward, Kane quickly backing into the nearest corner while the EXODUS World Champion climbs up to a knee, raising eyebrow with esteem in regards to his counterpart’s skill.

Dick Morosi: What a breathtaking exchange by both competitors. It’s clear that they’re in the same stratosphere when it comes to wrestling ability, and that chain of maneuvers was clear proof of that.

Seth Ericson: Both guys went for their finishers early which shows me that they’re trying to end this thing quick and make a statement. We could be in for a treat, Dick.

Dick Morosi: You don’t have to tell me, Seth. If Christum Furor thought this was going to be a cakewalk, that near Superkick just showed him how wrong he is. Christian Kane is all business tonight.

Christum Furor: That opening sequence will boost his confidence more than anything, Dick. He already believed he was in the champion’s league, now he knows it.

Both men charge into the center of the ring again, with Furor attempting a forearm which is parried - Kane retaliating with a series of knife edge chops to the Michigander’s bare chest to eliciting howling from the spectators. The charismatic Canadian lifts his leg up and kicks it forward, but Furor catches the boot and spins to the left. Both men rotate 360 degrees, with the Diabolical Detroiter coming back with a knee at the end of the revolution which he drives into Kane’s breadbasket. Furor then grabs himself a handful of hair before delivering a stiff forearm to the Canadian’s face, before applying a cravate to control his foe’s movement. As he wrenches Kane’s neck, he delivers malicious strikes straight to his face, leveling him with three or four times before releasing Christian who stumbles in a punch-drunk stupor. Furor takes a step back to size him up, then rushes forward with a Clothesline attempt, but Kane comes to in time to duck. He lifts an arm up underneath Furor’s protruding limb, then swings all the way around his body to end up facing him before reeling his captured prey into a Front Facelock. From there Kane grabs the World Champion by the waist of his singlet and swiftly falls back, snapping the madman overhead to send him pancaking to the canvas with a thud.

Seth Ericson: Furor does NOT want to get into a mat wrestling contest with Kane. He can handle himself yes, but Christian can wrestle circles around him.

Dick Morosi: I would have to agree. Look to see the champion try to turn this into a smash mouth brawl. The uglier the better.

Kane rolls to his stomach and climbs to his feet, whilst Furor rolls away to prevent him from following up on the Snap Suplex. However, CK isn’t going to allow him to run very far, as The Canadian Sensation wastes no time in charging at his adversary, prompting the reeling champion to turn his defense into offense. The World Champion goes for a Roaring Elbow, however, Kane is able to dodge in the nick of time as he drops to into a roll, the artful dodge saving him from becoming a Headless Drifter. The Canadian springs up to his feet, his back facing his foe as he plants his chest into the turnbuckle. With a head full of steam, Christum charges for the corner, but receives a mouthful of feet for his troubles as Kane leaps into the air with the sound counter. He dashes again in a show of persistence, only this time Kane comes out of the corner and leaps into the air to straddle his shoulders. CK then turns towards the ropes and grabs a hold of them before pushing off them. As a result, he flips forward, dragging Furor off his feet and shooting him through the ring cables. Preventing himself from being ejected onto the floor by the Hurricanrana, the astute Michigander grabs a hold of the cables and uses them to pull himself up onto the apron.

As he climbs to a stand Kane immediately approaches him. In a desperate attempt to gain the upperhand, Furor plows his shoulder through the ropes to drive it right into Kane’s gut, sending the air sputtering out of his mouth and stopping him in his tracks. With a window of opportunity prime for the taking, Christum reaches over the ropes to apply a Front Facelock, throwing CK’s arm over his shoulder before lifting him into the air for the Vertical Suplex. The teaming masses of humanity filling the venue ignite, their eyes trained on what’s transpiring before them as The Canadian Sensation finds himself suspended upside down. Knowing what’s at the end of that spectrum and not wanting to go there, Kane wriggles his body, loosening Furor’s leverage and forcing him to drop him safely onto the apron. Thinking quickly, Kane immediately grapples the World Champion around the head before dropping him face first onto the apron with a Facebuster.

Seth Ericson: Christian Kane is on Human Torch Flow right now, Dick. My man is en fuego.

Dick Morosi: He’s been a wrecking ball of destruction for Christum Furor so far. The World Champion hasn’t had an answer for anything Kane’s thrown at him.

Kane rolls the downed champion back into the ring before following immediately after. Reaching a state of full verticality, Kane backs away a few steps, then charges forward with a Dropkick to the the ribs that sends Furor rolling out of the ring before landing on the floor with a dull thump. Christian rolls out of the ring after him, Christum crawling on all fours in an effort to get some distance. As he nears the guardrail, the World Champion turns around and leans up on his knees, lunging forward to grab Kane by the brim of his tights before sweeping him off his feet and pulling him down face first into unforgiving structure. A wave of pain and disorientation hits Kane as he holds his visage, writhing back and forth as far as his confines will allow. No rest for the similarly wicked as the World Champion can’t help but spring to his feet and jump on the opportunity presented to him by drawing the Canadian to the ringside area by one arm and propping him against the apron. With his head being controlled by his antagonist, Kane finds his face being driven into the solid wooden apron’s edge. Saliva escapes Kane’s mouth as he is pulled away from the clothes wood for a second time before being rolled under the bottom rope.

Kane rolls a couple feet away from the ropes, eyes shut in pain whilst the Michigander climbs onto the apron and slowly re-enters the ring. Christum leans over and seizes Kane by his full head before dragging him to a vertical base. He quickly lays into his foe with stiff and vicious European Uppercut, then fires a second and a third as the forearm shots send the Canadian staggering into the corner. CK is left in a daze, his eyes weary, legs somewhat buckled due to the force behind the concussive strikes. Staring at his opponent indifferently, the Detroiter contemplates his next move. When the pondering ceases, Furor advances toward the corner with a slow, methodical amble. His elongated gait allows Christian time to recuperate and take the initiative as he swings his feet up and dries them into the World Champ’s face. As the madman retreats, CK doesn’t allow him any time to shake the cobwebs as he charges out of the corner with a wild Clothesline attempt. The self-proclaimed “God of EXODUS” flourishes his own technical mastery as he ducks underneath the arm and deftly maneuvers behind his foe, whilst catching the captured arm in a Ripcord. In one fluid motion he shoves Kane, maintaining a hold of his arm to pull him back forward before leveling him with a malicious Bullhammer Elbow strike that drops him like a bad habit.

Dick Morosi: Good Lord what an elbow strike! He could have knocked Kane out CLEAN with that one.

Seth Ericson: That was as smash mouth as smash mouth gets.

With his opponent’s seemingly unconscious, Furor goes for the cover, performing the lateral press whilst hooking Kane’s far leg.

”ONE!”

“TWO!” - KICKOUT

Furor gets up with a Schadenfreude-grin on his countenance as stands over Kane, raising his arms up to garner heat from the crowd. The boos only provide him with more motivation as he leans down to grab Kane around the head before dragging him toward the ropes - the World Champion places Christian’s throat across the bottom cable before maliciously driving his knee into his back. Holding the top cable with both hands, Furor pulls back, subsequently pushing his knee forward; as the rechristened messiah’s teeth clench and his eyes widen, CK’s mouth goes agape whilst his eyes dilate in pain. The blatant choke and illegal maneuver forces the hand of the official who begins his five count. At four, the sadistic sociopath finally relinquishes his hold, leaving Kane gasping for air as he attempts to refill his stripped lungs with much needed oxygen. The Canadian Sensation, still gasping like a dying fish, rolls away in agony but only to be pursued, as the World Champion hops onto his face with both feet and slides off. The abrasive and dirty move burns the Handsome Drifter’s mug and forces him to roll onto his stomach and lean up on all fours.

With a handful of tight, Christum drags Kane to a stand, then hooks his arms behind those of CK, trapping him before commencing to deliver a barrage of stiff headbutts to the back of Kane’s neck and cerebral cortex. Christian is weakened by each blow while they come as quickly as a heartbeat, each one harder and more malicious than its predecessor, his assailant delivering around ten. Kane stands on spaghetti legs before Furor steps back, then forward, dropping him emphatically with a thunderous Lariat to the back of his already beaten cranium. Kane sits up in a daze as the madman approaches him, then squats down with perhaps The Mask of Madness in mind. The instincts of the Canadian take over as he turns on his back and throws up his left leg to kick the World Champion in the face. Furor stumbles back as Kane slowly rolls away before getting up on shaky, unsteady legs. Frustrated, Christum Furor charges at Kane who connects with a forearm to the face, then doubles his foe over with a quick kick to the midsection before dropping him with a Neckbreaker. The Michigander bounces off of the epicenter of impact and lands on the canvas, Kane meanwhile sitting up for a second before his upper body falls back - the Canadian weary and somewhat disoriented by glad that he was able to stop the World Champion’s offensive onslaught.

Seth Ericson: Kane dug deep for that one, and he needed to. Furor had been taking him to the cleaner’s up until that point.

Dick Morosi: That was a timely, and effective Neckbreaker. Though he couldn’t follow up with a pin, he at least gave himself time to recover from the damage he’s sustained.

Kane finally shows signs of life as he leans up to a sitting position, legs draped over Furor’s shoulders. The Canadian Sensation grabs Christum’s hair and lifts his head up, then slides forward to get closer whilst putting his right calf across the groggy World Champion’s throat. The inside of Kane’s left knee links with his right ankle perfectly to cinch in the Triangle Choke. Furor’s neck is compressed and the blood flow to his brain is immediately reduced, slowly blurring and numbing the G&M leader’s grip of reality. Furor quickly rolls to his stomach before the damage can become truly detrimental, making CK roll with him. The hold is therefore loosened due to the change in positioning, and before long the only two time EXODUS World Champion in the company’s short history slips out of the choke hold. Kane crawls to the ropes in the hopes of regrouping and re-strategizing, but the Detroiter gets a hold of his legs. Climbing to his feet, Christum tries to pull Kane off the ropes- Christian holds on desperately, stifling the madman’s efforts. Deciding to take the scenic route so to speak, he swings Kane’s legs up into the air, violently dragging him off the canvas. In an astounding display of athleticism, Kane lands on his feet, facing away away from his foe, then quickly leaps into the air and turns to drop his opponent with an Enziguri right to the side of the head.

The vile kick reduces the revolutionary to a knee, though the sight of his head hanging askew doesn’t bode well for him and gives CK all the incentive he needs to put a combination together. Now back on his feet, Kane grabs a handful of Furor’s hair with one hand before blasting him repeatedly in the face with forearms with the other. Again. And Again. And again. And again. Upon releasing him, Christum’s foundation wobbles, looking like a swift wind could take him down - or another blow to the head. Kane leans into the ropes before charging forward with a full head of steam - only he runs right into the World Champ’s embrace. Furor comes to and pulls Kane into a Fireman’s Carry before climbing to his feet, only to pull the Canadian down with a Reverse Piledriver, planting his skull head first into the canvas with a vengeance. Upon Kane rolling off of Furor’s carcass, both men lie motionless on the canvas.

Dick Morosi: What a counter. Kane may have been thinking STKO, but Christum had something else in mind.

Seth Ericson: That’s our champion with another Michael Myers impression. Just when you think he’s dead he comes out of nowhere to drive a machete into you. Only this time, the knife came in the form of that Piledriver.

Dick Morosi: Both men are down now, Seth. Neither one of them looks like they’ll be moving any time soon either.

Seth Ericson: Well while they’re chillin’ that gives me time to check Matchmaker.com, Dick. I’ve been getting a lot of hits recently posing as a twenty year old millionaire.

The referee looks at both men before lifting his arms and shouting “ONE!” to begin the standing ten count for both competitors. Each man is startled by the zebra clad official’s utterance and decide to try and get up. “TWO!”... “THREE!”... “FOUR!” both combatants finally begin to stir, reaching their hands and knees at roughly the same amount of time before giving one final push to simultaneously get to a vertical base. In a rage, Furor charges at Kane only for CK to duck and throw an elbow into his abdomen. Furor grunts as his momentum is halted suddenly, then his head is assaulted by a knee that doesn’t drop him but leaves him hunched over in a stupor. The Canadian Sensation quickly makes a beeline for ropes, leans into them, rebounds, then connects with The Shocker! The Axe Kick nearly guillotines the champion who drops right down to the canvas like a stock market crash. Kane wastes no time in vying for pin, dropping down to roll Christum onto his back before hooking his leg to put him in a pinning predicament.

”ONE!”

“TWO!” - KICKOUT

The World Champion is able to roll a shoulder over as a somewhat flustered Kane rolls onto his stomach. Dazed and befuddled, with a pain in the back of his head that he’ll be feeling for many nights ahead, the Michigander rolls away from his foe before both men try to start to get up, Furor crawling toward CK while his body rises. Kane gets up, grapples Furor around the head, only for his nemesis to spring to his feet and throw a wicked forearm into his chin, a European Uppercut sending him staggering back. The befuddled CK careens into the ropes, then comes off them in a forward charge. He goes for a Clothesline, but Christum dodges it, ducking his head only to reach back and capture his foe in a Three-Quarter Facelock, spinning around to put a hole in his head with the Brain Aneurysm! Christian’s body goes limp, his frame becoming lifeless as he doubles over as if the electricity to his brain had suddenly be shut off. Sensing that he’s a few more moves from putting the match away, the World Champion dashes for the ropes. He bounces off and charges at came, quickly curb stomping him in the back of the head . By the time Kane’s cracked Skull bounces up with the rest of his body, Furor is already rotating for the Roaring Elbow. However, CK ducks - operating on impulse and instinct alone, and make a run for the ropes while Christum’s equilibrium is out of sort. The Toronto Native rebounds off the cables like he’d been shot out of a cannon, and leaps into the air with a single knee which he drives into the turning Furor’s face, knocking him right off his feet.

Seth Ericson: STKO! I thought the World Champion was in the driver’s seat, but Kane just jacked him for his wheel.

Dick Morosi: And this particular Grand Theft Auto could spell Christum Furor’s doom.

The lively crowd watches as Kane rolls on top of Christum Furor, his back on the chest of his opponent as he reaches behind his leg and hooks it.

”ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THR -KICKOUT!”

Furor rolls a shoulder over at the last moment, Kane staring at the ceiling in disbelief whilst the official holds two fingers up.

Kane pulls himself up in the corner, before slumping to a seated position, stalking Christum who struggles to his feet. The Michigander is slow to get up to his feet, and looks completely out of it - and it is at that moment that The Canadian Sensation scrambles to his feet and takes a few steps away from his foe. With a look of pure focus on his face, Kane turns around and makes a charge for the ropes. He leaps on the second rope, then springboards off with a Roundhouse Kick, cracking Furor in the face just as quickly as he reached his full verticality. Due to the force behind the blow, the World Champion is sent rolling across the ring where he slides underneath the bottom rope, preventing Kane from following up with an immediate pinfall, and should he have been able to get it, one could speculate that the bout would’ve been over.

Dick Morosi: #STUDLIFE! Christian Kane is emptied the repertoire, emptying the tank, he’s throwing everything he has at Furor, Seth. The World Champion looks toast.

Seth Ericson: Burnt toast at that. All Kane has to do is drag him back inside the ring and go for the cover now.

With his adrenaline rush subsided, the winded CK slowly drops down to his knees and creeps toward the Michigander while the enthralled crowd looks on. Kane crawls a short distance, but it feels like an eternity. Finally, with a huge breath he’s able to lunge forward and get a hold of his opponent’s singlet, using it to pull the World Champion back inside the confines of the squared circle before lunging onto him. Totally sure in his mind that he has put the nail in the coffin, the Canadian doesn’t even hook a leg - he merely rests on top of Christum Furor to perform a pinfall. The referee drops down and begins his count.

”ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THR - NO”

At the last second, Furor gets enough wits about him to put his foot on the nearby bottom rope. The crowd gasps, upset that that wasn’t three, but no one is more disgruntled than CK who runs his hands across his head, visibly stunned. Kane rolls onto his stomach and plants his palms into the canvas to push himself up to his feet. He gets to one knee, then staggers to a vertical base befores stumbling toward the ropes. With Furor beginning to stir, CK begins stomping on the canvas, tuning up the proverbial band for some Chin Music as the crowd follow suit; they clap, stamp their feet, and slap the guardrails in an effort to help the Canadian channel the energy he needs to put the World Champion out of his misery. CK blinks frequently in an effort to get sweat out of his eyes, breathing heavily at the same time as he begins to get into the zone. Furor continues to look like a man on his last legs, his mind a menagerie of sound and pain, his face covered in coagulated sweat and contorted in a grimace as he struggles to his feet, finally getting up with one last bit of strength. As he begins to turn, Christian Kane has already begun skipping toward him, lifting his leg up to attempt the SSK.

Realizing it would spell the end of his night, The World Champion suddenly falls to the canvas and rolls out of the ring. Despite being visibly exhausted, Christum smiles, and applauds his foe’s efforts in a condescending, Joker-esque fashion before plodding heavily toward the timekeeper’s table. Having had enough, Christum grabs his World Championship and bids Kane adieu before slowly making his way up the ramp - much to Christian’s surprise and dismay.

Dick Morosi: What a goddamn coward! Kane was about to kick his head off so he’s decided he’s had enough.

Seth Ericson: Hey, when it’s not your night, it’s not your night. He’s the World Champion, Dick. He doesn’t have anything to prove.

Dick Morosi: That’s a bunch of bull Seth, and you know it. As long as he holds that belt he’s supposed to compete and see his matches through til’ the end. What kind of champion is he?

Seth Ericson: The type that’s getting the hell out of here - wait!

Whilst Furor taunts CK, the crowd erupts as the curtains sway. Emerging from them is Zack Lifer who rushes right down the ramp and clobbers Christum, knocking him to the floor. The World Champion unceremoniously rolls down the ramp, struggling to get to his feet and Lifer pursues him. The New Iron Saint gets a handful of his former friend’s hair and slams his face against the apron, then again, and another time before Irish Whipping him into hard into the guardrail.

Dick Morosi: Zack Lifer is out here to fight for Maggie Rourke’s honor. He said he’d take care of it Seth, and boy is he taking care of it. Serves Furor right.

Seth Ericson: What does he think he’s doing, Dick. You can’t attack the World Champion like that. Zack Lifer, tosses his hoodie into the crowd before charging forward and Clotheslining the champion over the guardrail, sending him into the crowd. Zack Lifer goes crazy in the aisle, tossing his arms up and convulsing like he's having a spasm attack while the audience goes nuts. He sets his eyes back on his rival, but by the time he does Christum has already decided it's better to live to fight another day, especially in his condition. The madman retreats through the crowd as Zack Lifer stands triumphant, having exacted a matter or revenge for himself, for Maggie Rourke, Jimmy Riley and everyone Christum Furor had abused with his madness. Realizing that he hasn't had enough, the New Iron Saint climbs over the rail and chases after Furor, as a spotlight shines on both figures as the arena follows the madness sweeping through the crowd.

WINNER (via DQ): CHRISTUM FUROR

After the bell rings, signaling the end of the Kane-Furor match, Christum Furor rolls out of the ring...only for Brett Sands to hop over the barricade, suit jacket no longer on, and slide into the ring, behind Christian Kane.

Dick Morosi: Oh, good God! Not Brett Sands again!

Brett motions for Christian to turn around as he gets to his feet, but when he does that, Brett charges forward, lowering his shoulder and hitting him with the Sandspear! Kane falls to the ground, already hurting from his match against Christum Furor, but Sands almost immediately gets back up to his feet. This time, Sands motions for one more move and grabs Kane by the head before slowly getting him up to his feet. Brett then proceeds to toss Christian over the top rope and out of the ring before exiting the ring himself.

Seth Ericson: Brett Sands seems intent on hurting Christian Kane here tonight!

When Brett grabs Christian by the head, he receives a shot to the jaw by the Handsome Drifter, sending him reeling backwards! Christian begins fighting back, forcing Brett to cover up once more and forcing him to back up. Once they get to the steel post and Christian goes for another right handed punch, Brett blocks it before raking Christian's eyes. He follows that up by grabbing Kane's head and sending his skull bouncing off of that steel post. Sands then grabs him by the hair and pulls him back off of the steel post before sending him crashing into the steel steps.

Dick Morosi: Oh, for Christ's sake! Someone come out here and stop this!

As Christian lies there, hurting, Brett looks at the protective covering of the floor he is at and a devilish smirk appears on his face as he begins to tear it off, exposing the concrete. Sands, not wanting to waste another second, grabs Kane by the head and places his head between his legs before lifting him up, ready to powerbomb him.

Dick Morosi: Oh, no! Not this!

Brett then positions himself correctly before powerbombing Christian Kane right onto the concrete floor! Kane is seemingly out cold and the audience really begins letting Brett have it, but Sands just gets to his feet, smiles, and watches as security, refs, and EMTs begins making their way down there, ready to check on Kane.

Seth Ericson: This was....wow....

Dick Morosi: This was an absolutely disgusting act by Brett Sands! And you best bet that Christian Kane is not going to be a happy camper when he wakes up!

Brett slowly backs away as the scene slowly fades out to commercial.

We come back from commercial with Tom Matheny much happier than earlier when he was standing with Brett Sands. Instead of the annoying Sands, he happens to be standing with former World Champion and current number one contender, Fiona Collins!

Tom Matheny: We're back live on this edition of EXPRO On FX, and I'm here right now with the number one contender, Fiona Collins! Fiona, you're moments away from facing Justin Brooks, and you have to be thinking about what he did to you four weeks ago at Absent Are the Saints.

Fiona nods as she stands next to Tom, feet moving her body side to side as she can't stand still. Her hands are moving at her sides, warming up.

Fiona Collins: Of course I am, Tom. I haven't stopped thinking about since the moment it's happened and to tell you the truth, it's helped motivate me for tonight. He's going to be getting what's coming to him.

Tom Matheny: But you can't help but be a little apprehensive, knowing that it seems like Justin has recently aligned himself with the sinister brother of Nicholas Gray, Cleon.

Fiona sighs, hands resting on her hips as she nods again. Her body continues moving from side to side.

Fiona Collins: I am apprehensive and I'm woman enough to admit that I'm nervous tonight. Justin is a fierce competitor but after what he did to me and knowing who he has decided to work with? He has a highly dangerous man and I am nervous but those nerves don't overshadow the determination in me to get retribution. Not only for what happened four weeks ago but also for this company.

Tom Matheny: It seems like you haven't felt this much weight since you were World Champion, and surely that also has to be on your mind.

Fiona Collins: It's a lot for anyone's mind but yes, it's definitely felt like a weight since the match was announced. But, I'm a fighter, Tom, and tonight is not going to be any different than any other opponent I've faced. And I've faced much bigger and scarier ones than Justin Brooks.

Tom Matheny: Anything else you'd like to say in the direction of either Daisuke Iwakuma or Christum Furor, both of whom seem to have declared their intentions to take you out of EXODUS Pro two weeks ago?

Fiona Collins: Bring it on. You two want to take me out for good so bad? Then do it. I'd love to see you try because I'm Fiona Collins and I am unbreakable. Deuces, bitch.

She holds up two fingers as she smirks into the camera then turns her head, winks at Tom, and walks out of the frame to get ready for the match, and we go to Dick and Seth.

Dick Morosi: Fiona Collins looking more determined than ever, Seth.

Seth Ericson: The Ace of EXODUS is starting to look world weary again, and here's hoping she's got the shoulders for it this time around.

Dick Morosi: We'll find out when she faces Justin Brooks...next!

NORMAL MATCH
FIONA COLLINS (HEC Women's Champion) VS. JUSTIN BROOKS

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...standing at 6'4" and 267 pounds, he is Justin Brooks!

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: This sudden personality shift of Justin Brooks has made things interesting as of late for EXODUS Pro, namely Fiona Collins.

Seth Ericson: There has never been love lost between The Big Bad Brooks and The Stardust Seraph, so it's time to see which one of them came to play tonight.

The lights in the arena start to dim, and the crowd begins to stir as the opening riffs of "The Ocean" by Tonight Alive begin to play!



As the chorus begins, standing at the entrance way, Fiona Collins starts to look out at the crowd in her gear and a black hoodie with her Shinigami logo on it. Nodding her head to the beat, she finally gives a small grin as she runs to one side of the stage to look at her fans before jogging to the other side to look out for them and salute. Finally, getting back to the center of the stage, she starts crouching down, hood still over her head all as the song plays.



As that second verse plays, Fiona starts to make her way to the ring, an intense look on her face. Glancing at a young fan, she nods and touches foreheads with them as she pulls off a glow necklace from her neck and gives it to the fan. As the chorus repeats, she flips off the hood and hops up onto the apron. Once she looks out and surveys the crowd, she turns to face the ring before springboarding over the top rope, flipping over it and landing down on her knee, hand touching the mat as if she landed like a superhero! Quickly heading to a corner, she climbs up and once again holds up one finger to the air to get the crowd into everything. Looking back at the people in the ring, Fiona starts to remove her hoodie and look ready as she mentally prepares herself for the match.

Dick Morosi: You have to think Fiona Collins has a lot on her mind when it comes to this match.

Seth Ericson: Justin Brooks and Fiona Collins have had a lot of animosity building up toward one another since her and The Marauders were in a promotion prior to the genesis of EXODUS Pro. Now, without anyone else in their corners, these two will square off!

Fiona approaches the center of the ring, along with Brooks. She looks up at the man fearlessly, who already pie faces her as she looks at him with determined eyes. The anger is obvious on Fiona's face as she reapproaches him, slapping him across the face! The slap seems to put a smirk on Brooks' face, who immediately charges after her, but she ducks his lariat and bounces off the ropes as she charges toward him! She catches him in a body scissors and as he lifts her up like a wheelbarrow, Fiona grabs him on the descent with a bulldog before rolling to her feet and bouncing back off the rope and charging toward with a huge running knee to take him down before keeping up her momentum as she runs towards the corner and springboards from the corner to the ropes before doing a quick walk along the ropes and leaping off with a moonsault that lands double knees to the chest of The Big Bad Brooks! Fiona tries to leap to make the cover, but Brooks rolls out of the ring to get himself back together, leaving Fiona irritated. Brooks tries to shake off the cobwebs, but Fiona backs up and bounces off the opposite side ropes before leaping over with a Fosbury Flo--BROOKS CATCHES HER! HE JUST CATCHES HER OVER HIS SHOULDER AND LAWN DARTS HER INTO THE RING POST! Fiona hits the ground with a thud and Justin instantly starts to pick her up again before hoisting her up military press style before just dropping her, Fiona hitting the ground with a thud, rolling around in agony as the crowd jeers at Justin bullying Fiona. Justin rolls back into the ring quickly to break up the count before sliding back out and whipping Fiona into the guardrail. Without hesitation, Brooks comes in and rams his shoulder into Collins' midsection, all before grabbing her by the hair and tossing her back into the ring.

Dick Morosi: Just as impressive as Fiona was from minute one, Justin Brooks swings the pendulum back in his favor and used his strength to put the former World Champ in precarious positioning!

Seth Ericson: I have a feeling Fiona may have met one of her biggest obstacles in EXODUS tonight.

Brooks gets in and starts stomping on Fiona's back before lifting her up and whipping her hard to the corner, Fiona practically crumbling as she hits the turnbuckle in pain. Justin grabs her and pulls her to the middle of the ring, all before he hooks her...STALLING BRAINBUSTER! Fiona hits the mat and Justin quickly hooks a leg for the pin!

ONE!






TWO!








THR-NO! The Stardust Seraph kicks out!

Justin glares at the ref with evil intentions before picking her up and whipping her toward the ropes, but Fiona rolls forward into a handspring off the ropes, but before she can make her rebound attack, Brooks just kicks her square in the body, sending her crumbling down! Fiona is reeling as Justin picks her up and drops her with a huge powerbomb, holding her packaged up for a pin!

ONE!









TWO!











THRE--KICKOUT!

Justin slams his hand on the mat, looking furious at the referee before going to hook Fiona again, who tries to catch him with The Undertow! She's got him, but Justin starts to lift her up and as he has her, he starts charging toward the corner, slamming her into the turnbuckles! He backs up as she's only propped up by her arms and the ropes, starting to look like she's lost all her drive, but as he comes in for a huge splash...SHE ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY! FIONA COLLINS ROLLS OUT OF THE WAY, SENDING BROOKS REELING, AND SHE CHARGES TOWARD HIM AND HITS A HUGE LEG LARIAT! Fiona starts to clap as she continues to get the crowd behind her, starting to warm them up as she looks to charge...she runs towards Brooks, looking to hit the Shinigami, but he ducks, grabs her and whips her to a corner, but she baseball slides and puts her foot up to hit the turnbuckle to stop her momentum, pushing back to kick the face of the charging Brooks before getting back to her feet, looking for a rolling elbow, BUT GETS SPEARED RIGHT AS SHE TURNS AROUND!

Dick Morosi: BROOKS JUST LEVELED THE FORMER WORLD CHAMP!

Seth Ericson: JUSTIN BROOKS IS A MAN POSSESSED TONIGHT!

Brooks gets up and hoists her up again, this time looking to throw her into the turnbuckles via a powerbomb, but she starts to throw fists to his head, finally getting him to drop her, and as he starts to recover, she hits him with a huge superkick that only leaves him wobbly but still on his feet! She decides there's no time to waste, and she goes for the rolling elbow...the palm strike to the chest....AND THE DROPSAULT! Clear Eyes, Full Heart, Can't Lose by The Stardust Seraph, and Brooks is down to a knee...AND SHE HITS A VARIATION OF THE PARALLAX SHOCK! Taking a page from her husband's arsenal, Fiona starts to get up, her hands balled into a fist as she comes closer, starting to hit Brooks with a series of soccer style kicks to the chest while the big man remains on a knee, BUT HE JUST GETS RIGHT BACK UP, STARTING TO TREMBLE AND LOOK ANGRY! HE STARTS TO HAMMER HER WITH CHOPS THAT SENDS HER REELING RIGHT BACK TO THE CORNER, BUT SHE BURSTS OUT WITH A SERIES OF PALM STRIKES BEFORE GETTING HIM TO A CORNER AND HAMMERING HIM WITH MACHINE GUN STYLE CHOPS BEFORE SHE BACKS UP AND JUST HEADBUTTS HIM RIGHT IN THE CHEST!

Dick Morosi: ...I don't know what's gotten into Fiona Collins, but she has clearly not come to fool around tonight!

Seth Ericson: Fiona has turned around and REALLY surprised this audience here tonight with her fighting spirit, and she may have started to prove to Justin Brooks just how prepared she was to fight him tonight!

Fiona backs up, still feeling the effects of that headbutt, but she's not done as she notices Brooks charging at her, going for The Reminder, but Fiona bends backwards in a Matrix style evasion, before getting back to her feet and charging after him, grabbing his arms in chicken wings before dropping back with a backcracker! She looks around as Brooks remains on the ground and she starts to grab his arm...

Dick Morosi: WE HAVEN'T SEEN THIS IN AGES!

...AND SHE SINCHES IN THE ECHO-16! The original submission hold that gained Jonathan Collins countless victories that he passed to his students and wife is now being utilized by Fiona here against Justin Brooks, and the big man seems to be fading as she starts to hammer him with her free arm with elbows, trying to knock the life out of the man as he keeps trying to move himself to the ropes, which he does! Fiona is forced to break the hold, which she does immediately, and as she waits for him to get to his feet, she starts looking to go for the Shinigami again, but he ducks it and grabs her, starting to go for the Hook 'N Ladder...BUT FIONA grabs him and pushes him toward the ropes, rolling him up and bridging as the referee counts!

ONE!








TWO!



















THREE!

"The Ocean" starts to play again, and Fiona rolls out of the ring, pumping her fist in celebration!

David Zinkus: HERE IS YOUR WINNER...FIONA COLLINS!

WINNER: FIONA COLLINS

Dick Morosi: Fiona Collins steals one from Justin Brooks, and she continues the upward momentum on the road to Ascendency!

Seth Ericson: But let's not overlook the fact that for the first time in a long, long time...Justin Brooks looked like the World Champion we knew him to be! He took that fight to Fiona Collins and wound up giving her all she could handle! Fiona barely escaped this match by the skin of her teeth, and I'm sure even she knows it.

Dick Morosi: I'm sure she takes nothing lightly, Seth. Let's take a break, and we'll be back after this!

We cut to commercial with Fiona standing on the ramp, getting her hand raised in victory, cutting back to a shot of Justin Brooks who is just shooting her a glare with venom and vengeance!

We come back from commercial to a loading bay backstage. One half of Dragons Unleashed, Evangelista, is pacing back and forth anxiously with her hands to her face. Her tag team partner, Laurel Anne Hardy, is sat casually on a nearby stack of crates, finishing an apple and a cigarette. They're both in their ring attire, although Evangelista has a hoodie on over the top of hers. Laurel raises a hand in frustration.

Laurel Anne Hardy: Can you keep still? You keep makin' the light strobe in my eyes.

Evangelista turns to her best friend in disbelief.

Evangelista: How can you be so relaxed? We're in there with the GFC World Champion...

Laurel Anne Hardy: So? You've wrestled him before.

Evangelista: Only in a tag match.

Laurel Anne Hardy: Well? This is a tag match too.

Evangelista doesn’t reply. She just keeps pacing.

Laurel Anne Hardy: Seriously though, that’s doin’ my bloody head in.

Finally, Evangelista stops and stands still, hands on her hips. She opens her mouth and inhales if about to say something - then closes it again. After a moment she says:

Evangelista: We should be doin’ some last minute warming up, anyway.

Laurel Anne Hardy: Nah, that’s bad for you.

Evangelista: You what?

Laurel Anne Hardy: No, for real. I heard that the latest… exercise… science?... theory is that stretchin’ too much before a big event means you’re more likely to pull a muscle. C’mon though, I could do with some water or somethin’.

She swings down from the boxes and they set off down the hall... and come face to face with the man with whom they came into conflict on the last show, their old friend-turned-enemy Kameron Chase. Kameron’s immediate reaction when his path is cut off is a scoff and a roll of his eyes. He shakes his head and lets out an audible sigh.

Kameron Chase: Can’t I go anywhere without you two appearing to ruin my good mood?

Laurel Anne Hardy: Yeah, our entire purpose in life is just to follow you around an’ annoy you.

Evangelista: We even put a tracking chip in you.

Kameron Chase: You know, that would almost be funny if I didn’t actually think it was something that you would possibly do.

He gives a short laugh, void of any humor and then rubs the side of his face.

Kameron Chase: I’d love to stay and chat, but there are a billion other things that I could be doing right now, so if you’ll excuse me...

Laurel pouts - clearly not meaning it.

Laurel Anne Hardy: Aw! So ain't you gonna wish us luck, Kam?

Kameron folds his arms across his chest, looking from one woman to the other. Then, after a long few moments of contemplation…

Kameron Chase: No.

Evangelista rolls her eyes; whether it’s directed at Chase or Hardy is hard to tell. Laurel just grins and steps closer, conspiratorially, and asks:

Laurel Anne Hardy: Here, right… who do you hate more, us or Jon?

Kameron Chase: Hate?

Kameron shakes his head.

Kameron Chase: I don’t hate the two of you. I just find you to be unbearably frustrating wastes of oxygen.

He shrugs and then smirks.

Kameron Chase: Honestly, I’m just gonna enjoy sitting back and watching you beat the crap out of each other.

Laurel Anne Hardy: Such a darling. I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll make it extra hurty just for you, Kammy.

It seems like she’s going to say more, but Evangelista wisely grabs her and starts pulling her away.

Kameron laughs as Laurel is dragged away and he lifts a hand in a wave.

Kameron Chase: Yeah, you do that. Have fun!

On that, we cut back to Dick & Seth.

Dick Morosi: Laurel Anne Hardy isn't exactly endearing herself to one half of the tag champs.

Seth Ericson: I don't think Laurel Anne Hardy is endearing herself to anyone, but that's me.

Dick Morosi: Those two will be in action later tonight, but coming up next is a huge match! Kliff Ulysses is once again in action!

Seth Ericson: And he's not just up against anyone, it's Kerry Windsor! It's next! Let's get to it, Zinkus!

NORMAL MATCH
KERRY WINDSOR VS. KLIFF ULYSSES

David Zinkus: The next match is scheduled for one fall.

An excited murmur passes over the crowd as they sit in anticipation. All of a sudden, the opening riffs to “The Future In the End” by Evans Blue begin to blare throughout the arena, sending the crowd into an all out frenzy. As the beat finally drops, Kerry Windsor steps out from behind the curtain to a massive ovation.

David Zinkus: Introducing first! from New York City, New York weighting in tonight at two hundred and twenty-five punds. This is Kerry! WINDSOR!

He slowly saunters to the top of the ramp and slides the hood from his head as he stops and gazes out over the crowd. An approving smirk appears on his face as he outstretches his arms to his sides, soaking in the reception. Finally he begins making his way down towards the ring, walking at first, but then sprinting and sliding into the ring. He quickly hops up to his feet, and spins around with his arms outstretched. He makes his way towards the ropes and leans over, mixing it up with the crowd a bit before pulling off his hoodie and tossing it to the side of the ring. He backs up into his corner, and patiently awaits for the start of the match.

Dick Morosi: I’m a big fan of Windsor, Seth.

Seth Ericson: How can you not be? He’s got it all and he’s done it. He could be in any company he wants, but he chose EXODUS because he has a thirst for competition.

Dick Morosi: Well he doesn’t have to look hard. He’s in for a hard-hitting affair with this man.

That whiny guitar scratch echoes in. Winding and cutting until slowly it gave way to a rhythm. As the guitar picked up the drums begin to pound out, giving pulse to the arena. All you can see is the silhouette as he steps out onto the stage, and a bright white light blares out from behind him showing his shape and casting a large shadow toward the ring. He raises his arms up and begins to clap in time to the beat, instructing others to do so obediently. The spotlight slowly shines on Kliff Ulysses proudly wearing his "Kliff Ulysses! Run Like Hell 2014" as he begins making his way down the aisle.


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run...

He bounds down the aisle, touching hands intermittently with the crowd as he makes his way to the ringside area to circle the ring.

You better make your face up in
Your favourite disguise

With your button down lips and your
Roller blind eyes

With your empty smile
And your hungry heart

Feel the bile rising from your guilty past
With your nerves in tatters
As the cockleshell shatters

AND THE HAMMERS BATTER DOWN YOUR DOOR!

YOU BETTER RUN!

He circles around the ring, making his way to the front steps and climbing up onto the apron where he paces to the center of and stands for a moment before climbing inside the ring and begins testing the ropes and then going toward the turnbuckle.

David Zinkus: Making his way into the ring, weighing two-hundred twenty five pounds. From St. Paul, Minnesota! The Ultimate Entertainer! Kliff Ulysses!


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run...

He climbs the turnbuckle, pulling off his shirt and throwing it into the crowd before jumping back off, grabbing the top rope and following it along to the next corner and rolling his back against the padding to test it before rebounding off the other side and following the ropes to his corner where he paces back and forth anxiously in anticipation.

Seth Ericson: There’s a lot of words to describe Kliff Ulysses, Dick. Annoying, flamboyant, self-centered, brash, thirsty. Entertaining might be the best one.

Dick Morosi: I would have to agree. The Ultimate Entertainer stormed back into EXODUS two weeks ago to defeat Brett Sands in one of the best matches of the year. He’ll be looking to do the same thing against Kerry Windsor.

*DING! DING! DING!*

As soon as the bell tolls all attention is drawn to the two men in the center of the ring. The match begins slowly, with the pair testing the waters by reaching forward in a grapple attempt. The first try results in Windsor swatting away Kliff’s hand it protruded for the Grecko Roman Knucklelock, the pair continuing to rotate around one another in search for an early opening. A second attempt gives the pair exactly what they’re vying for; they lock hands, barreling into a test of strength. Neither man is built larger or much wider than the other, however, Kliff is able to gain the advantage. Moving quickly, The Ultimate Entertainer breaks the hold to pull his foe into a Front Facelock before pulling him into a Snap suplex, ensuring that he can slam his foe’s lower back into the mat before the veteran has an opportunity to escape his clutches.

The booming sound that follows Kerry’s trip to the canvas, the New Yorker arching his pain in slight pain momentarily while his charismatic opponent flashes a grin at the crowd. Before long, Kerry is back to his feet and the pair set their targets on one another once more. Windsor dashes at the Minnesotan, aiming a forearm smash at his chin but the cagy technicalist ducks. As Windsor attempts to regroup, Ulysses catches him from behind with a Russian Leg Sweep, slamming him onto the mat once more. Again, Windsor lands on the small of his back, Ulysses picking his spot early. Again, Kerry writhes in pain, his hand this time gingerly massaging the epicenter of the agony he’s enduring in an attempt to alleviate his discomfort. Still, Ulysses beckons him to his feet.

Seth Ericson: Kliff has jumped all over Kerry so far. He must be trying to end things quickly so he can go read his anime comics.

Dick Morosi: I won’t try to make sense of that. However, I will acknowledge that The Ultimate Entertainer is in firm control right now. Though, remember that Kerry Windsor has wrestled around the world, and has plenty of years on Kliff. He’s not flustered by this start one bit.

Windsor scrambles to his feet one more, this time watching as Ulysses approaches him. Again, the pair lock horns, this time colliding in a much more traditional collar and elbow tie - with Windsor quickly squirming out of it and grabbing his foe by the wrist before Irish Whipping him into the ropes. Kliff rebounds off said cables, where Windsor is waiting for him with open arms. He waits until the Junior Heavyweight Striker is within well, striking distance, before lifting him up and dropping him with an emphatic Spinning Spinebuster. Ulysses is laid out flat, the wind knocked out of him for a brief moment - long enough for Windsor to go for the the pin.

”ONE!”

“TWO!”

Ulysses won’t be defeated that easily though, as he rolls a shoulder over. Kerry, seemingly expected such, pulls his opponent up to a vertical base. He opens Kliff up with a knife edge chop to his barechest, then doubles him over with a well placed toe kick to the midsection before heading off toward the nearest ropes. He charges forward with a Sleeper Slam, sweeping Ulysses off his feet just as he lifted his body to a state of full verticality, sending him right down to the mat. With an arm draped across the Minnesota's chest, Windsor waits for Katie Hanneman’s count.

”ONE!”

“TWO!”

Dick Morosi: Windsor with a couple of near falls. We could be in for a very back and forth contest folks.

Seth Ericson: I hate see-saw affairs. Just once I’d like to see somebody totally dominate their opponent. I’m going to have to talk to Cleon about how I can get matches rigged.

Dick Morosi: And lose your job?

Seth Ericson: At least I wouldn’t have to work with you anymore. Silver linings Dick, silver linings.

Ulysses shrugs Kerry off his body, and both men look to get to their feet once more. In a momentary lapse in the action, the duo begin circling one another again, each with a smile on their face as they realize they’ve not only traded the edge, but that they’re very evenly matched. The respect is mutual, and neither competitor wishes to rush into an offense only to have his moment exploited against him. The stalemate continues for a few more seconds as each man tests the limit of their foe’s patience. Growing tired of the psychological chess match, Ulysses eagerly makes the first move as he lunges forward, then stops for a feint just to gauge the New Yorker’s reaction before charging forward once again this time for a full body tackle. Windsor is caught off guard by the feint but still manages to avoid being bumrushed to the canvas, as he dodges Kliff’s attack whilst sticking his right leg, catching Ulysses with a Drop Toe Hold. Before he can be mounted, the Minnesotan scrambles up to all fours - Kerry standing close behind him, already coiled and ready to strike with any one of the moves in his repertoire.

Out of his peripheral vision, The Humanoid Typhoon catches Kerry’s stance, and immediately plans a counter. His mind focuses on anticipating any incoming strike of the arm or leg - and it’s the latter as Kliff turns quickly, tucking his head low as he rushes forward with a Double Leg Takedown before Windsor can get going with the Running Knee Lift. Unable to carry out his intended course of action, the veteran finds himself hurled to the ground with Ulysses sitting on top of him, crushing his face with a series of elbows and forearms.

Dick Morosi: Kliff is trying to implement his striking game. Kerry had better figure out a way to turn this around, as any one of those elbows or forearms could knock him right out. Kliff has that kind of hitting power.
Seth Ericson: They’ve had a counter for each other so far tonight, Dick. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kerry managed to escape without having his mug split down the middle.

As the strikes keep raining down like hail, Kerry looks for an opening amidst being pelted again and again. The window of opportunity, though small, presents itself to him as he Kliff draws back from throwing a solid forearm. Windsor places his right arm against Kliff’s forearm to prevent him from throwing another concussive blow with his left doing likewise on the other side as it blocks any incoming counter strike from the Middle Weight. Kerry locks his legs around Kliff’s body before forcing his stronger arm into his foe’s shoulder. He then twists his body in the process, coercing Ulysses onto his back, breaking free from the weight of his opponent in the process. In one fluid motion, Kerry slams him back first into the canvas, before following through to create a bridge that pin’s his foe’s shoulders to the mat.

”ONE!”

“TWO!”

Kliff quickly kicks out, sending Windsor back to the drawing board as he kips up onto his feet, pacing around to regain composure and reassert himself into the driver’s seat. Ulysses soon pursues the living legend, reaching a vertical base and immediately shaking off the effects of the previous chain of maneuvers. The pair stare at each other from across the squared hell, the step forward for round 3 of their proverbial match of wits. Ulysses if the first to break the deadlock, luging at Windosr, but the veteran circumvents the move with a sidestep before tossing him over head with a Hip Toss. Kliff somersaults to the canvas, but is quick to leap to his feet, hoping to catch Kerry off guard, but is caught for a second time as his body vaults forward and meets the brunt of another textbook Hip Toss. A third time, Kliff rises and lunges at his opponent once more, Windsor flicking his hops and throwing him again. This time however, Ulysses shifts his body weight so that he rotates further than moral and grabs a hold of his antagonist’s head on his way down. Instead of landing on the small of his back, he lands seated, yanking the Yankee down on his head to topple him backward. Windsor is helpless as the back of his neck collides against The Ultimate Entertainer’s shoulderblade, before his body is discarded like yesterday's paper. The swift, innovative Neckbreaker reversal changes the momentum of the match once again, putting Kliff into control while the crowd tries to figure out how he just pulled that off.

Dick Morosi: What a move by Ulysses there, and it appears these two have each other scouted perfectly. I’ve never seen so many counters in my life.

Seth Ericson: Kerry got caught going to the well too many times, Dick. He was trying to suck the wind out of Kliff’s sails, yet only managed to re-fill them. That’s the last thing he needed. The guys already an egomaniac.

Looking to continue his attack, Ulysses pulls Windsor up to a vertical base. Holding the veterans arm -both the upper and lower, Kliff whips him across the ring. Windsor scrambles across the squared circle and bounces off the ropes. Showing some agility, the New Yorker ducks a Clothesline attempt, and ricochets off the ropes for a second consecutive time. His physical nimbleness and speed catches everyone off guard, as he strafes to the Minnesotan’s back, and immediately encircles his arms around his waist. Windsor drives his momentum back, shifting his weight to the rear in an attempt at a German Suplex. However, said attempt is thwarted by a shrewd counter, a locking of ankles executed by the EXODUS Original. The Ultimate Entertainer slides a hand in front of his breadbasket, disengaging the New Yorker’s clasped hands. Having escaped captivity, he fires back a with a series of elbow to the jaw, then maneuvers his frame to the side of Kerry’s body whilst grabbing him by the arm. Kliff steps under the arm and twists it to apply an Arm Wrench, sending a surge of pain throughout the veteran’s captured appendage. With his free hand, Ulysses scores with chops to the chest, then turns the chops to forearms to the chin, before pulling his groggy foe forward to float him over into a Northern Lights Suplex, stacking Windsor’s shoulders down for the cover.

”ONE!”

“TWO!”

Kerry rolls a shoulder over to break the count. Kliff now on his knees, climbs back to his feet with Windsor’s arm still in his possession. He wrenches the aforementioned limb once again, looking to keep his foe at bay as he plots his next move. However, Kerry will not give him that chance as he quickly somersaults forward, effectively untwisting his arm and returning to a stand. With Kliff’s arm in his clutches now, Kerry reels him in before bending and swinging his own free arm, clobbering the showman in the temple with a stiff forearm. Before his brainpain can even assimilate the damage that was just sustained, Kliff’s head is assaulted with another forearm. That blast to the chrome dome sends Ulysses staggering into the ropes in an apparent stupor. However, he comes back with a Clothesline attempt as he swings wildly at Windsor’s head. He is unable to meet his mark though, as Kerry ducks then pivots on his heels to turn around and score with Back To Square One, blasting Kliff in the face with a brilliant Spinning Corkscrew Roundhouse Kick.

Dick Morosi: WOW! Kliff walked RIGHT into that one, Seth. That’ll have you seeing stars for sure.

Seth Ericson: I don’t know if he got all of that, Dick. Ulysses may have got his hands up to lessen the damage.

Indeed, Kliff was able to protect his face from being rearranged, though the effects of the kick still take a toll on him as he rolls all the way to the other side of the ring. The Ultimate Entertainer falls out of the ring, preventing Windsor from following up with what could’ve been the decided move. Realizing this, the veteran immediately scurries out of the ring in search of Kliff’s body. Upon finding it, he lifts the Minnesotan’s deadweight back inside the squared hell. However, as he climbs into the ring Ulysses springs back to his feet, and slams an elbow into Kerry’s temple as he steps through the ropes. From there Windsor is left hanging suspended in the cables, prompting the violent striker to take a step back before running in with a thunderous knee to the face, the force behind the strike causing causing Windsor’s head to snap to the side as he falls lifelessly into the ring. The effect of the strike reverberates throughout Hakata Star Lanes, the audience grimacing in response to the stiff blow as Ulysses quickly goes for the cover.

”ONE!”

“TWO!”

However, Kerry still has enough cognitive functions to get a shoulder up. Ulysses maintains composed, in fact he gets fired up as he tosses his arms into the air exuberantly. Having gotten the crowd going, he looks to feed off their energy. The Ultimate Entertainer drags his battered and bewildered foe to his feet before tossing him into the corner. From there it becomes academic, as the brawler begins to bombard his foe with a belligerent onslaught of chops and elbows. Each one of them lands in vile rapid succession, of which Kerry seemingly has no defense for as they land in his chest and head in alternating fashion. With Windsor visibly weakened and apparently out on his last legs, Kliff backpedals into the center of the ring. With a wry smile on his face he winds his arm back before making a beeline for the ropes. He immediately leaps onto the middle cable, then flies off with a final elbow attempt -only to be caught in MID AIR. Windsor catches him on his shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry, quickly lurching into the middle of the ring before leveling his adversary with a bone crunching Snapmare Driver.

Seth Ericson: ANOTHER COUNTER… HEAD FIRST INTO THE CANVAS!

Dick Morosi: LOWERED EXPECTATIONS! This one is over, Seth.

With his foe’s shoulders flattened to the canvas, Windsor immediately performs the lateral press, hooking the Minnesotan’s leg and pulling it back for the cover.

”ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

*DING! DING! DING!*

WINNER: Kerry Windsor

Dick Morosi: What a hard fought victory for Mr. Windsor who's racking up the wins now, Seth.

Seth Ericson: He's streaking, and not in the way you think. Good for him though. Wins like these will definitely put him on the radar for any of the three titles.

While Kerry poses in the ring the feed shifts from the squared circle and the crowded arena to the backstage area. In the bowels of the building, Christum Furor sits on a steel chair, dressed in his ring attire, wearing his burlap sack while EXODUS World Champion sits around his waist. Furor is applying the finishing touches to his wrist tape, as he prepares for his match with Christian Kane later on in the show. While he does that, he is unaware, willingly, or unwillingly, of the world around him, as Maggie Rourke of all people approaches him. She is immediately flushed with disapproval from the madman, as he rises from the steel chair, his eyelids furrowing from behind his mask whilst his complexion tenses from the contours of his face.

Christum Furor: You seem lost, Ms. Rourke.

He remarks, shaking his head slightly to express his discontent whilst scoffing softly to himself. The words don’t seem to phase Rourke who has a scowl on her face, appearing if she has something that she wants to get off her chest. Whether that’s a smart thing considering who she intends to chew out remains to be seen.

Maggie Rourke: You...you know what? To call you a “monster” is some kind of compliment, so I’ll just skip to the point. A month ago, you took the man I loved, love more than anything in the world, and you put his life in danger! You took Zack Lifer and you nearly broke him, you nearly broke Jimmy, and I’m-I just can’t take it! I flew all the way here, and I’m going to give you a piece of my mind! Who in the hell do you think you are!? You think you can just toy with people's’ lives like that? That you can try and break a man’s back, a man that has done nothing but try and help you? Jimmy thought there was still some kind of human in there; but I’m standing here right now, and even through that stupid mask of yours, I can tell you’re nothing but an empty shell. A lifeless husk that runs on hatred. You...you sicken me.

She says brimming with contempt towards the villain and most infamous figure in EXODUS Pro. Furor does not inch. The eyes hiding beneath the holes in his mask do not waiver from their distant resting places. However, he is heard cackling, which both catches Maggie off guard, and startles her to a degree.

Maggie Rourke: Did I say something funny?

At this point, Maggie no longer lets out any of that silly, silly noise that she makes with her mouth. The World Champion’s hand clasps about Rourke’s neck, squeezing it ever so tightly, in hopes that her head would pop like a balloon. With his free hand, Furor removes the burlap sack from his head, revealing eyes that are locked-on to Maggie, eyes widened with hate with teeth grinding with malice.

Christum Furor: Listen, little fly… when you buzz in my ear you get swatted and smashed across a wall. Do you understand?

Furor presses her up against the wall, Maggie somewhat gawking due to a lack of oxygen as the man continues to stare coldly at her, looking like he could snap her neck like a twig at any moment.

Christum Furor: If you saw what I did to Jimmy Riley, and you saw what I did to Nick Kramer, what makes you think I wouldn’t do the same thing to you? All you people, it’s like you don’t learn from any of your lessons. As if you don’t listen to anything that comes out of my mouth, or heed any warnings hidden in the actions that speak louder than my words. What sense does it make to provoke me of all people, Ms. Rourke? What did you hope to accomplish, coming here alone and garnering my scorn with your pointless, incessant babbling? Alas, if you’re so concerned about their wellbeing, I can give you a taste of what it feels like. Would you like that? Would you like to share their pain?

There’s a look of fear in her eyes as Furor means every single word. He continues to maintain his vicegrip around Maggie’s throat, her eyes somewhat bulging as she desperately tries to pry his claw from her trachea.

Christum Furor: Because I can accommodate you, if that’s what you like. It would be so easy, and I wouldn’t think twice about it. Is that what you want, Ms. Rourke? Do you want to fall on Nick Kramer’s sword? Do you want to die for his sins? I could make you a martyr, a martyr of my New Age. Would you like that?

He inches closer to her, almost feeding off her consternation before releasing her. Maggie immediately drops down to the floor, gasping for air and panting heavily as she tries to breathe. The World Champion cracks a malevolent smile in the side of his mouth as a handful of arena staff step in to tend to her.

Christum Furor: How many more innocent people need to get hurt before Nick Kramer stops his hero charade?

The madman leaves her with that inquiry as cackles on his way out of camera view. After a brief moment, Zack Lifer rushes in dressed in a black vest over a tan sweatshirt, a hood over his head, a certain serious air to him now as he reached down, grabbing Maggie’s hand as she tries to regain her bearings.

Zack Lifer: Maggie, you alright? Can you hear me?

Partially from the choke, and partially from the sheer trauma, Maggie’s eyes quickly fill with tears. Taking a few deep breaths, she looks at her would-be rescuer. Zack looked up, trying to see where Magnus Gunner had gone. No trace of him, he just missed the elusive shadow of a man. Lifer sighed heavily, pulling Maggie up to her feet, his face still riddled with a cold personality he’s been carrying around with him in recent weeks.

Zack Lifer: Don’t worry, alright? Find somewhere safe, maybe leave the arena for awhile.

Maggie Rourke: I can’t do that, I’m not finished with him y-

Zack cuts her off, knowing full well what her target/attacker is capable of.

Zack Lifer: Listen to me! He’ll beat you down if he finds you again, you got that? This isn’t a joke anymore! He’ll do worse than this, he’ll break you, make you wish you never even came here. I can’t have that, alright? You don’t deserve that. Nobody does.

His eyes flickered back to where Christum Furor left the scene, a look of hatred across his features before looking back at Maggie, a slight smirk on his face.

Zack Lifer: I have it covered. Promise me you’ll stay hidden, okay?

Maggie, clearing her eyes and face of the tears that had rolled down her cheeks, nods; a nonverbal agreement to adhere to Zack Lifer’s wishes and “get out of dodge.” With that, Zack ran in the opposite direction, choosing to prepare himself instead of following in the madman’s footsteps, leading him back to his locker room. He muttered to himself, muttered nearly silently to himself as if starting to formulate a plan inside that twisted, accelerated mind of his, something about getting in contact with Chuck Matthews in hushed tones. His locker room door soon slammed shut with unrelenting force, the scene cutting to ringside once again.

The show returns from commercial, and we're backstage, where the camera peers around a locker room door to show Chuck Matthews sitting inside, his back turned to the audience. Silently, the camera slips into the room, never taking itself off Matthews. Chuck seems deep in thought. His head is tilted towards the floor, and he makes no noise. The camera slowly pans around to show him head-on. Chuck's head is bowed in silence, his hands clasped together in his lap, with a rosary wrapped around his knuckles. Chuck holds up a finger at the camera, asking for one more moment in silence. He mutters a few things under his breath before crossing himself and sitting up straight, looking at the camera. He glances over the camera at the man behind it, who must look surprised, because Chuck looks to the rosary, then back to the cameraman before saying with a shrug:

Chuck Matthews: We've all got our nightly rituals.

In a more serious tone:

Chuck Matthews: What do you want?

Before he gets an answer, Chuck smiles.

Chuck Matthews: You want my thoughts on my match tonight. You want to know what's so special about Zack Lifer that I refused to berate and demoralize him like I do all my other opponents. You want to know what about this one individual keeps him off my radar, hmm?

Chuck nods in agreement.

Chuck Matthews: Respect. It's all about respect. That's what everybody in this business is after, but nobody seems to want to give it. Everybody demands that they be respected. Everybody demands that the rest of the world drop what they're doing and give them the recognition they deserve.

Cameraman: But not you.

Chuck smiles.

Chuck Matthews: All that time filming, you finally learned something. No, I don't particularly care. Why? Because I've earned it elsewhere. My fans respect me. My old colleagues respect me. Here in EXODUS? Yeah, sure, eventually they'll come around. But at this exact moment in time? I'd be crazier to think that everybody should drop what they're doing and listen to every word I say. And, likewise, they'd be nuts to expect that from me. There are no shortcuts in this business. Eventually, we all have to take the test. Eventually, you're either respected as a wrestler in this industry -not a company, the industry-...or you're not, and if you don't have it, you have nothing.

Zack Lifer has earned such respect from me. Zack Lifer has done a hell of a lot in this business, and I'd argue that he's taken as much, if not more punishment in the ring as I have. THAT is what earns my respect. I don't care how many shows you've headlined, or how many companies you've worked for, or how many titles you've held. If you want my respect, you show me that you'll go to hell and back. You show me that you can take a beating, that you keep fighting even when anyone else would give up the fight. And you do it for something you believe in. You do it for a cause. You do it because you can take the punishment. Zack Lifer has done that, and he continues to do that every time he gets in the ring. THAT is why I respect Zack Lifer, and THAT is why I put so much weight behind our match tonight.

Cameraman: What about the rest of EXODUS? Surely there must be SOMEBODY who's earned your respect?

Chuck Matthews: Nobody comes to mind. Now, if you'll excuse me...

Chuck motions to the door. The camera slowly retreats as Chuck resumes his pose, sinking back to his thoughts as the show cuts to Dick & Seth.

Dick Morosi: Chuck Matthews seemingly saying nobody in EXODUS has earned his respect.

Seth Ericson: I'd say it's a really dumb move on his end, but...knowing Chuck, that's part of the plan.

Dick Morosi: Chuck's got a big one later tonight against Zack Lifer, but coming up next is a huge match! It's entirely possible that we've seen this before in different times, but WEAPON is going up against Kameron Chase...and it's next!

NORMAL MATCH
WEAPON VS. KAMERON CHASE (EXODUS Pro Tag Team Champion)

The Union Underground's "Natural High" plays over the sound system and Kameron Chase makes his way out onto the staging area; a smug grin on his face as he glances around the arena through his Aviators while a blue spotlight shines down on him. Raising his shades up onto his head, Kameron starts down the ramp towards the ring at a relatively slow pace, completely ignoring the fans on either side of him. As the instrumental takes over, he hops up onto the apron on one knee. Holding onto the middle rope, he takes one last glance around the arena before getting to his feet and climbing into the ring through the ropes.

David Zinkus: Now making his way to the ring...hailing from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania...he is one half of the Exodus Pro Tag Team Champions...he is KAMERON CHASE!

The arena lights begin to dim except for one bright light at the entrance of the stage area while violins and classical music begin to fill the speakers, along with an ominous Latin chant...



As the verse ends and transitions into more ominous Latin chanting with the guitars and drums following suit as the song transitions from “Cantata Mortis” to “God in Fire” by Takeharu Ishimoto ft. Kidneythieves, four people start to stand in front of the light, all concealed thanks to the bright light dimming their own traits.



David Zinkus: Now coming to the ring...accompanied by the Turks...he is WEAPON!

Like military, the three people accompanying WEAPON start to move in time like police. Rude, Katana, Tseng and Angeal basically clear the way for WEAPON as he starts to point to the ring before running down the ramp and sliding in before rolling and getting to his feet. The crowd starts to stir as the masked man takes a deep breath and climbs a turnbuckle to look out to the crowd and salute them before turning his attention to his surroundings, preparing himself for what is to come as Rude, Katana, Tseng and Angeal watch on from the outside.

The bells sounds and both men approach the center of the ring. The circle one another a few times before charging each other and tying up. Kameron forces WEAPON back into the corner and breaks on referee Chris Dawson's command. Kameron back up and watches WEAPON closely as he approaches. They tie up again, this time WEAPON pushing Kameron back into the ropes. Dawson calls for the break again, and WEAPON obeys.

They keep eye contact as they go to tie up again. WEAPON moves first, dropping low and dragging Kameron over with a takedown. He grabs his opponent's arm, but Kameron rolls out - grabbing WEAPON's arm. Kameron gets to one knee and applies pressure on his opponent's arm. WEAPON gets to his knees and then forces them both to their feet. WEAPON rolls forward and gets to his feet. Kameron hangs on, but WEAPON jumps up and kicks him in the ribs. Kameron releases his grasp and WEAPON backs up to kick him again, but Kameron ducks it and grabs WEAPON from behind. He grabs him around the waist and takes him down to the mat, laying his weight on his opponent and locking in a sleeper. WEAPON tries to slip free, but Kameron uses his leverage to keep him trapped.

Dick Morosi: This one has just begun, but they've already traded the advantage back and forth - but it's Kameron Chase that has WEAPON trapped in The Sleeper Hold!

Seth Ericson: It's working - I can't even keep my eyes open!

WEAPON gets his feet under him, but is slow in forcing his way up. He gets to his knees and rallies the crowd. Kameron keeps the pressure on, and it looks like it's having it's effect. WEAPON seems a bit sluggish as he continues fights to his feet. Before he can make his move, Kameron slips his hands into a Full Nelson and takes WEAPON over with a Dragon Suplex! He bridges for the cover and the referee slides into position.

ONE!


TWO!


WEAPON kicks his legs hard, breaking free and rolling onto his stomach. He uses the ropes to get to his feet, but Kameron is waiting. He scoops him up and slams WEAPON down in the center of the ring. Kameron begins to climb the turnbuckles, but WEAPON scrambles up and attacks him from behind. WEAPON climbs up behind Kameron and takes him back down to the mat with a German Suplex!

Both men stay down on the mat for a moment, and get to their feet at roughly the same time. They charge at each other and Kameron throws a clothesline. WEAPON ducks and bounces off the ropes. As he returns, he nails his opponent with jumping calf kick! Kameron staggers back and falls into the ropes. He bounces and falls forward to his knees. WEAPON uses the middle rope to springboard into Kameron with a low European Uppercut!

Kameron grabs his jaw and falls to his side. WEAPON gets to his feet and raises his index finger to the crowd. He plays to the Exodus crowd a bit before he bounces off the ropes and charges at his rising opponent - but Kameron nails the advancing WEAPON with a flying back elbow! WEAPON falls through the ropes and out to the apron as Kameron falls to his knees to catch his breath.

Dick Morosi: A solid shot from Kameron Chase might have given him the advantage once again!

Seth Ericson: Might have? Aren't you supposed to be a Broadcast Journalist?

Kameron gets to his feet and grabs WEAPON on the apron - but WEAPON nails him with a palm strike to the forehead - and then another that catches him in the nose! WEAPON grabs his dazed opponent and hoists him up to Suplex him out of the ring - but Kameron breaks free and drops down onto the apron beside him. He nails WEAPON with a blistering knife-edge chop. WEAPON keeps his footing and responds with a chop of his own! Kameron shakes it off and fires off a hard chop. WEAPON responds in kind - nearly knocking Kameron to the floor. Before Kameron can retaliate, WEAPON connects with another that spins him around. WEAPON points to the crowd, who explode as he grabs Kameron from behind but Kameron puts the breaks on, throwing back his elbow and nailing WEAPON in the jaw. WEAPON falls back, off the apron, and to the floor. Kameron shakes off the damage and goes down after him. Chris Dawson begins his count.

ONE!
TWO!
THREE!

Kameron pulls WEAPON up and drags him toward the ring. WEAPON shoves him away and leans against the crowd barrier.

FOUR!
FIVE!
SIX!

Kameron approaches again, but WEAPON offers up a weak kick to the legs. Kameron pushes through and nails him with another knife-edge chop.

SEVEN!
EIGHT!
NINE!

Kameron grabs WEAPON and rolls him inside, under the bottom rope.

Dick Morosi: WEAPON paid the price for attempting a high risk maneuver on the apron!

Seth Ericson: Don't act like you knew that was going to happen!

Kameron gets to the apron and signals to the crowd. He climbs the turnbuckle and stands on the top rope. WEAPON gets to his feet just in time and lunges forward for the ropes, knocking Kameron off balance. Kameron slips and racks himself on the top turnbuckle! He grimaces in pain as WEAPON slowly gets to his feet.

WEAPON backs up and shakes off the cobwebs. He comes running, jumping up high and catching Kameron with a textbook dropkick under the chin. Kameron rears back and slumps to his side, still perched in the corner. WEAPON gets to his feet and charges in again with a European Uppercut. Dawson steps in to admonish him, but WEAPON ignores him as he grabs his stunned opponent. He steps up to the 2nd rope and gets a good grip - and takes Kameron over and down to the mat with a Northern Lights Suplex! Both men stay down, but WEAPON rolls over for the cover.

ONE!


TWO!


Kameron kicks out, but shows the damage.

Dick Morosi: The advantage is squarely with WEAPON at this point in the match - I thought he was going to win it right there!

Seth Ericson: Well, you were wrong!

WEAPON is up first and he grabs his rising opponent in a Front Facelock, forcing him back down to the mat. He extends his leg, but then pulls it in hard- driving his knee into Kameron's skull! He rears back to do it again, but Kameron uses the opportunity to roll them both over - putting WEAPON in a pinning predicament!

ONE!


TWO!


WEAPON releases his grip and gets his shoulder up. Kameron sits up, but WEAPON comes up behind him and kicks him in the spine. Kameron shouts out in pain, but WEAPON pulls him up to his feet. He whips Kameron into the ropes - and nails him with a European Uppercut as he comes back! WEAPON quickly follows up with a vicious face stomp! Kameron grabs his face as WEAPON pulls him back up and whips him again. This time, Kameron reverses it and sends WEAPON into the ropes. As WEAPON returns, Kameron takes him over with an armdrag. WEAPON skids across the mat and rolls out onto the apron. He gets to his feet and uses the ropes to springboard inside - but Kameron catches him with a Powerslam for the pin!

ONE!


TWO!


WEAPON kicks out, but is bewildered as he rushes to his feet. Kameron uses the ropes - springboarding off with a shoulderblock that knocks both he and his opponent silly. They stay down, lifeless on the mat as Chris Dawson begins his count for both men.


ONE!
TWO!
THREE!

Kameron rubs at his shoulder and back as he rolls over on the mat. WEAPON sits up, leaning back on his elbows.

FOUR!
FIVE!
SIX!

WEAPON edges backward, reaching for the ropes. Kameron gets onto his hands and knees, taking a few deep breathes.

SEVEN!
EIGHT!
NINE!

Before Dawson can get to ten, WEAPON pulls himself up with the ropes and comes over to Kameron, who is up on his knees. WEAPON runs in and leaps forward - but Kameron drops to the mat and WEAPON gets caught up in the ropes!

Dick Morosi: Oh my! WEAPON is caught up in the ropes, giving one half of the Tag Team Champions a chance to regain his bearings!

Seth Ericson: Well, at least the bearings he came here with!

Kameron pushes his way back to his feet and comes over to his tangled opponent. He grabs him by the tights and hurls him down onto the mat. Kameron turns to look at the cheering crowd, signaling for KAMOKIZE. WEAPON gets to his feet and slowly turns as Kameron launches in with the KAMOKIZE. WEAPON ducks underneath it, and catches Kameron with the Dirge of Cerberus. WEAPON lies on the mat a couple of moments, then covers Kameron.

ONE!


TWO!


THR...NO!


Dick Morosi: Oh wow!

Seth Ericson: Kameron Chase fought out of it!

WEAPON slaps the mat in frustration, as he kneels on the mat, staring at Kameron. Kameron slowly starts to crawl to his feet, and WEAPON stalks him from his knees. Kameron regains his feet, and WEAPON leaps up, dropping Kameron with a second Dirge of Cerberus. WEAPON quickly hooks the inside leg for the cover.

ONE!


TWO!


THREE!


Dick Morosi: WEAPON beat Kameron Chase! WEAPON beat the Tag Team Champion!

WINNER: WEAPON

We cut back on Jon Collins in his room where someone is knocking in a frantic, steady rhythm. He gives a puzzled look as he looks over and the camera pans to the door to see Kliff Ulysses keeping in beat as he slowly creaks his way into the room.

Jonathan Collins: Feel free to stop anytime, buddy.

Kliff gives a coy laugh as he swings the door shut with authority and emphatically turns to see Jon, who is smiling in a rather pleased way.

Kliff Ulysses: You can deny it all you want but you missed me.

He lets a sly grin as Jon simply rolls his eyes, Kliff spares not time in giving Jon a warm greeting hug.

Jonathan Collins: What can I say? This place just isn't the same.

Kliff Ulysses: I know. There's just so much of me to love. It must be a vacuum when I'm gone.

Collins snickers, shaking his head.

Jonathan Collins: No, seriously. Kliff, this isn't the same Exodus as when you left.

Kliff Ulysses: No. I can't imagine it is since so much was changing by the time I was actually gone. But from what I see... What could be so wildly different aside from a few new faces playing the same games in a slightly bigger setting? Is anything really ever that different-

Jon quickly slaps Kliff on the shoulder.

Jonathan Collins: Can the existential crap and let me break it down...Kliff, everyone's different. Brooks is, Fiona is...even Maggie is. You came back as everyone really began evolving earlier when Magnus put you through all that glass this time last year. Now, it's more than that. Not like you haven't heard this before with us, but a war is going on. And I know this is about you now, entertaining you and basically doing this all for you now. That's great, because I knew the person you had become when EXODUS opened wasn't you. But you need to learn sometimes, Kliff, that there are things in life bigger than us. If you want to entertain an audience, you can...but there may not be much of an audience if we lose this. I'm not going to ask you to choose a side, but I'm gonna let you know one thing: EXODUS Pro needs Kliff Ulysses. EXODUS Pro needs The Ultimate Entertainer and the Humanoid Typhoon.

Jon nods once and then looks back at Kliff, patting him on the shoulder.

Jonathan Collins: EXODUS needs The Burning Star. I don't need an answer now, I don't want to even know. I'll let your actions speak for you.

Kliff Ulysses: Well. That's good, Jon. Because I wasn't really concerned with giving you an answer. I was just fixing on going on out there, making an ass out of myself and then going and enjoying myself a nice slice of pizza somewhere. Honestly I'm just hoping all this "which side" business washes out like a bad fad.

The boss nods compliently at the notion.

Jonathan Collins: I'm pretty sure in some way or another. All of us want a version of that to happen. The problem is always perspectives.

Kliff Ulysses: That's something that hasn't changed then, Jon. Everyone in EXODUS always wants a different version of the same thing.

Jonathan Collins: Wise words from a young man.

Jon gives a patronizing look as he ruffles Kliff's hair. Our Ultimate Entertainer rolls his eyes, gritting his teeth.

Kliff Ulysses: Maybe that's just gotta be my job then. I'll dazzle you idiots into seeing things a better way than just trying to kill each other for some notions you made up.

The two of them share a laugh as Jon again nods.

Jonathan Collins: Just remember that in the end; Nothing ever ends, Kliff.

He gave Ulysses a deep stare with severe honesty.

Jonathan Collins: Nothing ever ends.

The Cunning young man simply smirks.

Kliff Ulysses: And in the end. The love you take, and all that. Right. I have spectacle to make.

The two exchange a curt nod as Kliff sets off out of the office to leave Collins to his devices and us to cut away to commercial.

Dick Morosi: That...that was an amazing moment in EXODUS history. Through the doubts, through the worries...the Seikigun remains strong! Fortified more than ever with the aid of Trouble and Fiona Collins, the EXODUS Seikigun looks like they stand once more to take on not just Gods & Monsters, but the emerging faction of HATE.

Seth Ericson: Those three may be considered gigantic goons, but the battle is won in the ring, not with words! Here's hoping all three are up for it.

Dick Morosi: They may just be...and they may just have one more person to call on, because we'll see her next! Angela Jameson looks to settle the score with Savannah Taylor when they meet one on one...next!

SAN DIEGO BAY TITLE MATCH
SAVANNAH TAYLOR (EXODUS Pro San Diego Bay Champion) VS. ANGELA JAMESON

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!!!"

David Zinkus: Introducing first, the challenger! She is from Savannah, Georgia...SHE IS THE FALLEN ANGEL, ANGELA JAMESON!

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 cheers. 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.

Dick Morosi: Angela Jameson and Savannah Taylor have had a few issues dating back a few months. Angela is finally looking to exact some revenge against the San Diego Bay Champion.

Seth Ericson: Yeah, and given Savannah Taylor's recent affiliations, I have a feeling Angela may have bitten off more than she could chew this time.

The fans in the RIMAC are in their seats, anxiously awaiting the start of the match. Before they have a chance to say anything, the lights suddenly fade to black. The noise of the crowd is replaced by a loud whistle emanating from the sound system. The whistle repeats, only this time it is accompanied by a few riffs from a synthesizer. As the synth pulses on for a few seconds, red strobe lights around the stage begin to pulse in perfect synch with the music. The heavy guitar and drum tandem that follows truly signals the beginning of “Engel” by Rammstein. The black of the arena has been replaced by a vivid crimson as the song plays on. The fans immediately leap to their feet and show their displeasure at the arrival of the woman dubbed the she-wolf, Savannah Taylor.

David Zinkus: And her opponent is the EXODUS Pro San Diego Bay Champion...from Las Vegas, Nevada...SAVANNAHHHHHH TAYLOR!

The blonde steps out onto the stage, decked out in a sharp black military-style jacket that falls to around the mid-thigh level her blonde hair falling over her shoulders. In her right hand she carries a solid black leather riding crop. She glances to either side of her before walking purposefully down the aisle, tapping the end of the riding crop in her left hand. She climbs the steps and stands on the apron, scanning the crowd before raising the riding crop towards the kids in Section B and dragging it across her throat. Stepping into the ring, she stands in the center and raises her hands above her head, seeming to soak in the boos. She then removes her coat and hands that to a stagehand before setting her riding crop down in the corner. She then rests her back against the turnbuckle and waits for the lights to return to normal and the music to fade out...but she's immediately bum rushed by Jameson, who isn't waiting for the bell to ring! Angela continues to hammer Savannah with blows, while the champ covers up to absorb the blows and hope they don't affect her too much. Jameson finally gets pulled away from Taylor by referee Dan Arnouil, and Angela backs up, starting to pace around as the crowd is firmly behind The Fallen Angel!

Dick Morosi: Angela Jameson is showing no mercy to Savannah Taylor!

Seth Ericson: She is going out of her way to guarantee Savannah doesn't leave Fukuoka as San Diego Bay Champion!

Savannah is pounding away at her, and as we look towards the entrance, we see Angela's cousin Brianna Singer dashing down the ramp and aisle to cheer on her cousin, starting to slam her hand on the mat to cheer on her cousin. Meanwhile Angela has gone back to Savannah, who is trying to crawl out of the ring, but Angela grabs her by the hair and pulls her back! Angela gets Savannah back to her feet, and as soon as she does, she spins her around and drops her with a massive spinebuster, but Angela gets up and back to her feet instantly with a scream, enciting the crowd to cheer along as she starts to prepare to take down Savannah for good! Angela picks up Savannah, and whips her to the ropes...SPINNING SIDEWALK SLAM! Savannah starts backing up and crawling over toward the corner, and as Angela tries to reach for her, Savannah yanks her and Angela eats turnbuckle which allows the champ to slither away and try to quickly gain the advantage. Getting behind Jameson, Taylor hoists her up with a waistlock, bringing her back with a german suplex. Savannah gets up gingerly but uses the opportunity to brag and play up to the crowd that's slowly starting to jeer her. Savannah waits for Angela to get up before charging toward her, nailing her with a huge running knee before rolling her back up to her feet and drop her with a roundhouse kick before hitting a standing moonsault and hooking the leg for the pin!

ONE!





TWO!

















KICKOUT!

Savannah glares at the referee as she lifts up Angela again, whipping her to the corner. She charges in, leaping up with a huge knee before coming out of it on the rebound with a bulldog on Angela before rolling back to her feet and coming in with a soccer style kick to the chest of The Fallen Angel. After another one, she slowly perches herself behind Jameson before running forward and leaping to catch Angela with a running flipping snapmare. She quickly starts to pull her back toward the center of the ring before running toward the ropes and leaping off for an Asai moons---ANGELA GETS HER KNEES UP AND IT CATCHES SAVANNAH! She gets to her feet slowly, and as Savannah slowly begins to get back up, Angela hits her with a huge spinning heel kick before whipping her to the corner! She starts to look out to the crowd before slowly climbing to the turnbuckle, and the crowd knows what's next in any language!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

NINE!

TEN!

She backs up and Savannah remains there, dazed and groggy, and Angela charges in, looking to go for a handspring elbow, but Taylor yanks the referee in front of her and the ref goes down because of the impact!

Dick Morosi: What a despicable act by Savannah Taylor!

Seth Ericson: It's brilliant! Not only does she save herself by finding a meat shield, but she can bend the rules now to help her take the advantage from Angela Jameson!

Indeed, Savannah tries to charge after Angela, who has backed up to try to help the referee, but Jameson's ring awareness pays off and leaps up to catch Savannah...WIDOW MAKER! She hits that sunset flip powerbomb, and she pumps her fist before she looks out at her cousin, who has already started to dig under the apron for...THE SLEDGEHAMMER! SHE FOUND ANGELA'S SLEDGEHAMMER AND ANGELA MOTIONS FOR HER COUSIN TO COME IN AND HELP HER FINISH THE JOB!

Dick Morosi: Sweet justice for Angela Jameson!

Seth Ericson: ILLEGAL! I CALL FOUL!

Angela starts to come in, and the crowd begins to stir as Brianna has the sledgehammer....BUT SHE HITS ANGELA?! The crowd seems stunned as she slowly looks down at what she did with nothing but approval mixed with disdain for her victim. Rolling over Angela, she throws Savannah on top of Angela before starting to wake up the referee before she stands back and the referee makes the count!

ONE...



TWO!










Dick Morosi: It can't happen like this!









THREE!

David Zinkus: Here is your winner, and STILL San Diego Bay champion...SAVANNAH TAYLOR!

WINNER (and STILL EXODUS Pro San Diego Bay Champion): Savannah Taylor

Following this travesty, cutting off “Engel” is “The Imperial March” by John Williams, and the crowd instantly knows what that means. Accompanied by his security and riding upon his segway is Cleon Gray, who rides his segway around the ring, stopping to pick up the San Diego Bay Title from the timekeeper, and instead of allowing the referee to hand the belt to Savannah Taylor, Cleon does the job himself before calling for a microphone which is instantly given to him by one of his security guards, who has taken it from David Zinkus before he can even announce a winner.

Cleon Gray: Ms. Taylor...you are dismissed.

Cleon smirks as he nods at her, letting her walk off before he turns his head in the direction of the other half of this robbery, Brianna Singer.

Cleon Gray: As for you…

The blonde looks down at her fallen cousin, then glances back up at Cleon. Her eyes, ones that were normally full of life, only show cruel intentions as she gives her attention to Cleon.

Brianna Singer: Yes?

Without hesitation, Cleon smirks as he looks over and sizes her up.

Cleon Gray: ATTENTION!

Upon hearing the command, Brianna stands up straight as a post, her hands at her sides as she stares straight ahead.

Brianna Singer: Yes sir!

She calls out in a loud and clear voice, again not her normal sounding voice. The voice she called out in had more of an edge to it. Cleon chuckles as he looks down at the fallen challenger to Savannah Taylor, nodding for a moment before taking a knee and looking at the fallen Jameson.

Cleon Gray: Ms. Jameson, we have an issue. See, your line of thinking that you can come and go as you please has left issues in this company for me. They are issues I do not wish to have, especially as I am working on establishing dominance here in this company. The reality is that whether you want to know it or not...I am now in control of this company. Not your dear friend Jonathan Collins, and certainly not my simple minded brother. EXODUS is now on the verge of having discipline instilled thanks to Protocol 17, a new educational initiative I’ve spearheaded here. The first graduate of my program is Brianna here, Angela. To help your uneducated mind understand better...Brianna is now one of my students.

Cleon stands up and reaches into his suit pocket to proved her a juice box.

Cleon Gray: And while you lick your wounds, allow yourself to listen to your cousin speak on the benefits of higher education.

Brianna stood still for a moment as she took the juice box from Cleon as well as the microphone. She pauses for a second, listening to the Japanese crowd show their displeasure before she begins to speak.

Brianna Singer: Sixteen years. For sixteen years I have watched you run through this industry with such a reckless abandon that I began to worry. Fast forward to the present day and I have finally come up with a solution to deal with this issue. You see, when I said I began to worry, I wasn’t worried for you. I was worried for the millions of people who would watch you. That is why I became a student of Cleon’s. With his expert guidance, his knowledge of how to deal with such unruly people like you and most of all, his dedication to getting the result that he wants every time, it is hard not to want to learn from him. The benefits that I have received from his teachings are beyond beneficial. He has created a program that will turn this lawless and undisciplined wasteland into the picture of law and order. I am only happy to be of service to him.

She says as she pokes the straw through the hole in the top of the juice box and begins to sip.

Cleon smirks as he nods, looking at her.

Cleon Gray: Ms. Jameson...your cousin is now mine. And as a result, I’m proud to announce that as the new Headmaster of EXODUS Pro, I have named Ms. Singer as the head of my Department of Reeducation. As far as you go...we’ll have to have a conference to decide your fate. In two weeks, you’ll know what we intend on doing with you for the remainder of your term. Do not be surprised if your unruly behavior calls for expulsion, Ms. Jameson. Congratulations, you’re about to be made an example of in front of the entire class.

The crowd continues to stir as Gray now looks at his new student and nods once more.

Cleon Gray: And she is mine, Angela. She trusts me. She’s loyal to only me. See, in a world like professional wrestling, alliances can be made and broken. I’ve taken steps to prevent matters like that when it comes to my work. She believes in me, she believes in the mission statement, and she believes in my work. This is the type of loyalty few others can instill and inspire. Ms. Taylor is a graduate of my program, and as well as she worked, there were...variables. Variables that made her unsuitable. I had to abort Protocol 16 before I could even initiate it. However, once 15 was successful, I launched Protocol 17, and you see it here before you in the form of your cousin. To her, you are no longer family. You are the enemy of order, model, and discipline and must be put in line. Now, Ms. Singer, please explain your intentions for your new term as my associate before we dismiss class for the evening.

Brianna Singer: My intentions are simple. What I intend to do is make sure that each and every member of the EXODUS roster know their place and that they know that discipline and order will become the law of the land. Once everyone is made aware of this and is under the instruction of Cleon, THEN the company will be a much better place. But until that day comes, people will be made examples of. And right now, that example starts….with….you.

She says as she points a finger down at her prone cousin, who has yet to even attempt to rise from the mat. Without hesitation, Cleon calls for attention again, this time instructing Brianna to leave the ring and fall in rank and file with his security before taking the microphone again.

Cleon Gray: Class dismissed.

“The Imperial March” begins again, and the crowd stirs once more as Singer falls into place with his security as they walk back up the aisle and ramp towards backstage, and we go backstage. We cut backstage to where we once again see Tom Matheny standing by, microphone in hand and wearing another one of those snazzy (not really) blazers of his. He has more of a disappointed look on his face as he stares at the camera, ready to introduce his interviewee.

Tom Matheny: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time...

Tom lets out a sigh before rolling his eyes.

Tom Matheny: Brett Sands.

The audience begins letting out all of the hate that they got bottled in as the Ohioan steps into view, dressed in a black suit with a white dress shirt, collar popped. There is a smug smirk on Brett's face, but that usually appears there almost every time he doesn't have to wrestle in a ring. Brett claps his hands together as he looks at Tom before turning back to the camera.

Brett Sands: I know. It's a pleasure to interview me. Let's skip the niceties and you just ask me what you want to ask me, huh? I got a great match to watch in a bit.

Tom rolls his eyes again.

Tom Matheny: Alright then. This thing between you and Christian Kane. Why has it gotten to this point and where is it going from here?

Brett scoffs as he looks back over at Tim, almost like he's looking at an idiot. After a few seconds, Brett just shakes his head and folds his arms.

Brett Sands: This thing between Christian Kane and myself has gotten to this point because of him. Everyone wants to spew hate at me for no reason and Christian Kane wants to be pissed off that I laid him out two weeks ago, but it is all his fault. He decided, because he was bored being a director and couldn't get back in the ring since, you know, he's washed up, was and still is, that he could just pick out someone who is as talented as me and try and f*** with their career. Then he went ahead and-

What happens next is almost like you blinked and missed it. Christian Kane charges into the scene and tackles Brett around the waist before slamming him into the white brick wall behind him. The impact causes them to fall to the ground, Kane atop of Sands, before Kane begins unloading with multiple rights and lefts. Meanwhile, Tom has completely forgotten that he's on camera and has begun shouting support for Kane.

Tom Matheny: Beat his butt, Christian! Make him run back home to Ohio!

Brett is covering up as best as possible, but his save comes at the hands of about three security guards, who pull Kane off of Sands. As they pull Kane away, he attempts one last kick at Sands, catching him in the leg. Kane is taken out of view, shouting multiple obscenities that has the censorship button going off like crazy. Brett slowly gets to his feet, bottom lip busted, but a smirk on his face as he wipes it off. We fade out to Sands walking out of the scene as well and onto commercial.

Leave it, guys.

The camera cuts backstage now after commercial, where we see Tom Matheny standing beside former World Champion Johnny Cannon. Mr. EXODUS is dressed down in street clothes, with his gear bag strapped over his shoulder, a pair of shades hugging his face and bottle of Grey Goose in his hand.

Tom Matheny: Ladies and gentleman, I’m standing with the most recognized figures in the company. A Triple Crown winner, and a very well spoken, yet equally outspoken competitor. I’m talking about Johnny Cannon.

Johnny flashes a slight smirk.

Tom Matheny: Johnny, how are you feeling? You seemed to be fighting with a different focus and aggression out there tonight than we remember.

Johnny Cannon: I’m taking it one bloody day at a time. This last fortnight has not been easy by any stretch of the imagination. I feel like I let my people down at Absent Are the Saints. And you know, it’s not going to be an easy road to come back from that.

Tom nodded.

Tom Matheny: Going off your most recently recorded promo, some would say that you’re going through changes. Care to briefly touch on that?

Johnny took a long sip from his vodka, then gestured the microphone closer to his face.

Johnny Cannon: I’m trying to figure things out. It’s not as cut and dry as people tend to think. Going from the guy to just another guy in the shuffle, it’s not something I’m accustomed to, nor is it something that I think I can handle. It's difficult, picking up the pieces after you’ve crashed. The toughest thing is trying to keep your head above water, and not get caught up in your grief.

Matheny nodded, taking it all in.

Abby Park: Sounds like something I know all to well. Something I can help with.

The voice of the one of the EXPRO Originals, and the other half of the Short Change Heroes sparks Matheny’s interests. Cannon looks over, greeting his friend with a smile, offering her a swig of his beverage which she politely declines. Abby, in contrast to her good friend, is decked to the nines in her in-ring attire, a towel around her neck and a greeting smirk on her lips.

Abby Park: Trust me, you spend too much time reflecting on where it went wrong and nothing's ever gonna seem right again. When you’re going tough times in this business, the best medicine is going back out there and doing what you do best… put on a show and kick some ass.

She said with a chuckle, standing next to the Briton.

Abby Park: And I think it’s time we fill both of our prescriptions. The two of us, we’re not strangers to difficult times. Hell, we practically made our start on the heels of a difficult time. And who can forget that difficult time involving ladders. And a certain prize waiting at the top of them. The thing is, we’re lucky enough to not have to go through them alone. Together, as friends and partners, we can go through the fire together, and grow from it.

Abby said confidently, playfully jabbing Johnny on the arm.

Abby Park: In fact, the two of us have some unfinished business, wouldn’t you agree?

Cannon smirked, taking another long swig from his beverage. He looked at Abby, his brow somewhat curled and furrowed.

Jonnny Cannon: Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Are you suggesting that a certain awesome team returns full time to shine, and take EXODUS by storm again? Because that’s what is sounds like, love. It sounds like you want to get the band back together to play those songs that made us the best tag team in EXODUS history. It sounds like you want to tell The Ninth Gate and TROUBLE that they can quit their game of cops and robbers because the sheriffs back in town.

Abby grinned, and nodded.

Johnny Cannon: Am I hearing this correctly? Tommy-boy, do you know what this means? Hold the presses. Someone get a hold of the president, we’ve got a situation brewing down here in Japan! I think my friend here has been puffing on the magic dragon… she can’t certainly be serious. What do you think, Tom?

Cannon grabs Matheny around the arms, and shakes him. Matheny, somewhat flustered, yet excited, doesn’t put up a fight, merely shrugging his shoulders as Johnny stops and turns to Abby. He removes his wayfarers from his face, and flashes his usual cocksure grin. His spirits appear to have been suddenly brightened.

Abby Park: There's definitely not a problem with your hearing, Cannon. So...what do you think, partner?

Cannon points his sunglasses at the camera now, putting his other arm around Park’s shoulder as she steps forward.

Johnny Cannon: I think the Short Change Heroes are back in town and EXODUS will never be the same again!

The duo shake hands, and we cut back to Dick & Seth.

Dick Morosi: I'm hardly surprised. The two have long talked about reuniting, and the time is right. With Park picking up serious momentum and Cannon needing to get back on track, it's perfect for them both. I'm exciting for the reunion!

Seth Ericson: I think they have to be even happier there are no Turks this time.

Dick Morosi: Not with them fractured, and not until Andreas Lasiewicz comes back. There IS a big return coming next though, and it's Kliff Ulysses! Kliff makes his return against Brett Sands...next!

NORMAL MATCH
KLIFF ULYSSES vs. BRETT SANDS

The crowd is in a buzz inside KBS Hall. People shuffling, clapping, chanting and cheering in anticipation as they wait through a long pause. The people in attendance quickly becoming anxious and unseated as the uncomfortably long wait extends on before it finally ends, with every light in the venue shutting off suddenly. The crowd goes into a wild cheer of excitement before a voice floods in over the PA system, booming over the cacophony.

Kliff Ulysses: K-B-S! KYOTO, JAPAN! EXODUS! ARE YOU READY?!

The crowd roars eagerly as that distant, whiny guitar scratch echoes in. Winding and cutting until slowly it gave way to a rhythm. As the guitar picked up the drums begin to pound out, giving pulse to the arena. A figure steps out onto the stage, and a bright white light blares out from behind him showing his shape and casting a large shadow toward the ring. He raises his arms up and begins to clap in time to the beat, instructing others to do so obediently. The spotlight slowly shines on Kliff Ulysses as he begins making his way down the aisle.


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run...

He touches hands with everyone on the right side of the lane, walking the long way around the ring to survey the crowd.


You better make your face up in
Your favourite disguise

With your button down lips and your
Roller blind eyes

With your empty smile
And your hungry heart

Feel the bile rising from your guilty past
With your nerves in tatters
As the cockleshell shatters

AND THE HAMMERS BATTER DOWN YOUR DOOR!

YOU BETTER RUN!

He circles around the ring, making his way to the front steps and climbing up onto the apron where he paces to the center of and stands for a moment before climbing inside the ring and begins testing the ropes, going toward the turnbuckle.

David Zinkus: Making his return to Exodus Pro in Japan! Please welcome back; From St. Paul, Minnesota! The Ultimate Entertainer! Kliff! U-lysses!


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run


Run, run, run, run...

The few familiar fans in the crowd shoot streamers for him as he climbs to the top rope, presenting his classic "Run Like Hell" shirt before slowly peeling it off and tossing it into the crowd. Underneath is a crisp, newer, redder shirt reading "Kliff Ulysses! Run Like Hell 2014" He dismounts, making his way to the opposite corner whilst slipping the second shirt off and throwing it into the crowd on the opposite end and waiting in position. Anxiously pacing in the corner readily.

Dick Morosi: Ulysses looks locked in for a guy thats been away for a while. He's been missed by the EXODUS faithful and we're glad to have him home.

Seth Ericson: The last time we saw him he was shattering the glass ceiling, and not in a good way.

Dick Morosi: Indeed, our last glimpse of Kliff Ulysses inside an EXODUS ring was in that Shattered Dreams Deathmatch with our current World Champion, Christum Furor. That was long ago, and now The Ultimate Entertainer is looking to get back into the swing of things.

Seth Ericson: By taking a swing at this guy.

"In The City" by Kevin Rudolf begins to blare all throughout the arena as the audience immediately begins to boo. Brett Sands steps through the curtain, a smirk on his face as he stands at the top of the stage and stares out into the audience. Wearing his dark green trunks and a dark green sweater, he raises his hands high up in the air as gold pyro sprinkles down (almost like Orton's) before stepping forward and making his way to the ring.

David Zinkus: And his opponent, fighting out of Cincinnati, Ohio, and weighing in tonight at two hundred and sixty-seven pounds - this is Brett! SANDS!

As he makes his way down the ramp, Brett just looks at the audience and signs along with the song, mostly the part where Rudolf says "give it all up for me" and pointing at himself. Once ringside, Brett slowly (and with cockiness) walks around the ring before going up the steel steps and entering the ring. He removes his jacket and tosses it at the nearby worker before standing in the center of the ring. While at the center, he slowly moves around in a circle, "basking in his glory", before heading to his designated corner.

Seth Ericson: Man I love this kid, Dick. He's got everything: looks, charisma, and the 'it' factor. How can you not love him?

Dick Morosi: Maybe because he's a pompous ass? Yeah, I'll go with that one. If you need another reference ask Christian Kane, Jonathan Collins, Jaime Alejandro and other vets Sands has rubbed the wrong way.

Seth Ericson: This is a young man's game, Dick. I think they're just jealous. Sands beat a former World Champion in his debut match here. Name someone else who's done that in EXODUS? The fact is he might just be the next big thing, and you just have to deal with it.

Dick Morosi: That's if he survives this contest against one of the best strikers in the world. That's the bell Seth, it's time for Sands to show us something.

*DING! DING! DING!*

The two competitors meet in the center of the ring following the sound of the bell, quickly clasping their hands together matching technique with a Greco Roman Knuckle Lock. Both men lower their torsos in an effort to gain leverage to get the advantage over the other's center of balance. Exploiting his physical stature and strength, Sands presses the issue and exerts himself to cause Ulysses to lose ground. Due to Brett taking the initiative, Kliff is forced to take evasive countering measures as he quickly kicks away one of Sands' arms before performing a backwards roll, whilst maintaining his clutch. The Ultimate Entertainer then springs to his feet, bending Brett's elbow in the process due to the Ohioan's wrist being hyper-extended. Sands' agony and arm are further increased and compromised as Ulysses slips behind the Heavyweight to wrench his arm behind his back, transitioning the Top Wristlock into a Hammerlock.

Dick Morosi: It appears Kliff intends to outwrestle Sands, Seth. Smart strategy. He's looking to wear him down and neutralize Brett's power game.

Seth Ericson: Or so he thought. You forget Brett can mat wrestle too, Dick. I told you, he's a prototypical superstar, they made him in a lab and I was there.

Indeed, before Kliff can follow up Brett spins out of the hold, ending up behind his foe to apply a rear waist lock. Afterward, he shows off his strength by lifting the Minnesotan into the air before slamming him chest first into the canvas. With Ulysses lying prone Sands releases him, then swings up to the top of his body to apply a side headlock. Sands shouts and boasts as he continues to compress Kliff's head in between his biceps. However, the EXPRO Original keeps his composure under duress, and calmly scans Brett's frame as he searches for a limb, or extremity that he can grab and twist to create a means for escape. Lifting his belly off the mat, the window of opportunity is presented to him as he sits through and rolls, simultaneously grasping Sands' nearest arm. With his head freed from the headlock, Ulysses celebrates his liberation by twisting Brett's arm and climbing to his feet, dragging the Ohioan to a vertical base at the same time.

He extends Sands' arm away from his body before lifting his leg. In one fluid motion Brett swings his arm free and captures Kliff's protruding foot with cupped hands. With the leg held parallel to the mat, Sands spins inward, the momentum sending Ulysses twisting forward and into the air. He lands supinely on the mat, before quickly springing to a knee. The arrogant Brett Sands quickly scrambles to his feet smiling confidently, tapping his temple to intimate his in ring acumen, meanwhile the The Ultimate Entertainer gingerly stretches his leg, making sure it's still functional following the artful Leg Sweep.

Seth Ericson: What did I tell you, Dick? Brett can hold his own with the best in the world. This is a guy that made an immediate impact in EXODUS last year, and did the same in Platinum Dynasty Wrestling earlier in 2014. He's the real deal.

Dick Morosi: I can say the same thing about Kliff Ulysses, who you shouldn't be counting out. He's cunning and calculating. He's capable of answering everything Sands throws at him.

As the Japanese audience claps in approval of their exchange, both men begin circling the ring. After a brief delay in the action the two collide once again in the center of the squared circle. Kliff is the aggressor this time, as he slides to the canvas knee first and quickly lunges at Sands' foundation and traps his legs. Not expecting the maneuver, the cocky Ohioan is unable to fend off his assailant, allowing Kliff to drag him to the canvas with a smooth Double Leg Takedown. Brett's basic instincts cause him to roll onto his stomach, and his change in position forces Ulysses to alter his gameplan. Changing on the fly, The Jr. Heavyweight Striker crawls up to Sands' upper body, and immediately tries to slap on a Guillotine Choke. Aware that such a submission would bring an abrupt end to things, Brett squirms his way to the ropes, hooking the bottom cable with his foot.

Referee Chris Dawson immediately steps in, forcing Ulysses to relinquish his hold, meanwhile Sands exits the ring and climbs onto the apron to count his lucky stripes. While Brett shakes the cobwebs, Ulysses looks to stay on the attack. He marches over to the ropes, and leans over to grab Brett around the head. As he begins to lift his adversary to a stand, Sands proves to have been playing possum the entire time as he drops down from the apron to whiplash the Minnesotan’s head over the top cable, stunning him. While Kliff tries to regain his bearings, Sands slithers back into the ring, scrambles to his feet, makes a beeline for the ropes, then rebounds to level his opponent with a vicious Lariat Takedown. Ulysses is laid out from the stiff blow to the face, allowing Sands to hook his leg for the cover.

Dick Morosi: Sands pulled the wool over Kliff's eyes, then took his head off while he was blind.

"ONE!"

"TWO!""

Seth Ericson: Kliff with the kickout. That was probably out of instinct. I refuse to believe that was on purpose, considering the fact that his clock just got cleaned! Better yet his clock's broken, lucky for him a busted one is right two times a day, haha!

As Kliff begins to climb up to one knee, Sands hastily speeds up the process and brings his foe to a vertical base before shoving him chest-first into the upper-left hand corner of the ring. The Ohioan then proceeds to smash his forearm into The Ultimate Entertainer's spine, who stiffens his back automatically in response to the clubbing blow. Brett retreats back a few paces, then charges back at Kliff to connect with a knee that burrows into the fan favorite's lower back. Ulysses bends his back forward, grimacing in pain as he turns around, leaning his back against the corner to protect it from receiving further punishment. The egomaniacal Sands grabs the artist formerly known as the Humanoid Typhoon and launches him across the ring with an Irish Whip, sending him into the opposite corner. Using his cat-like reflexes, the cunning Ulysses steps up to the third turnbuckle at the opposite corner. He turns around to face his incoming foe, who was already hot on his trail. Displaying his own athleticism, Brett leaps up onto the top rope, looking to bring Kliff back down to earth with a Suplex of some sort. However, his plot is foiled by a series of elbows, with the third stiff to the chin sending the Heavyweight crashing back down to the canvas.

Dick Morosi: What a combination of strikes from one of the best pound for pound strikers in the game today.

Seth Ericson: Kliff bought himself a little time, and more importantly, a chance to bring this crowd to its feet. You know he can't pass up a chance to get everyone looking at him.

Dick Morosi: That's what a true showman does, Seth. He gets the people going, and feeds off their energy to perform at his very best. They call him "The Ultimate Entertainer" for a reason.

Seth Ericson: That's just a friendly and diplomatic way of calling him an ego driven jackass.

Ulysses kneels atop the ropes, holding onto both sides of the turnbuckle as the audience anticipates his descent. He takes a deep breath and whips his legs around, switching which arm was holding which side of the turnbuckle, only to release them and drop on Sands with a Diving Elbow. But, at the eleventh hour Brett is able to get out of dodge as he rolls towards the corner to escape the elbow drop, causing Kliff to crash into the canvas with nobody to cushion his fall. Brett reaches up and grabs the second rope, tilting his head slightly so he can keep an eye trained on the writhing Ulysses only a few feet away. Sands extends his free arm up and pulls himself up, utilizing the top-most rope for leverage. The brash blue-chipper stands over the EXPRO Original and begins to stomp every single one of Kliff's limbs, hoping to keep him grounded and battered for whatever he has planned for him in the immediate future. After he finishes his barrage, Sands repeatedly slaps Kliff in the head, taunting him, contorting his mug in a grimace to mock Ulysses' current state of agony.

Dick Morosi: Brett Sands, once again proving that he’s far from classy.

Seth Ericson: You’re perfectly right, Dick. He’s not classy, he’s Class- A.

Dick Morosi: What are you his PR guy, Seth? Gimme a break. You sound like one of those guys who lurks on the EXODUS site just to argue with people online in the chat rooms.

Seth Ericson: Hey, somebody has to have the kid’s back. I’m not looking to get paid or anything, but now that you mention it I wouldn’t be against it. Actually, I could use the extra money. You think he’d be up to it? Yeah, I’ll just shoot it by him after the show.

Visibly wounded, Kliff tries to pull himself up to a vertical base, yet only manages to climb up to all fours. Smiling in anticipation, Sands runs the ropes and dropkicks him in the side of the head knocking Kliff onto his back, his face speaking volumes of agony. Back on his feet now, Sands drags Kliff to his feet and puts him in a front-face-lock, putting emphasis on the Minnesotan’s upper body at this point, trying to evenly distribute the pain throughout Ulysses' skeleton. Knowing he can't allow Sands to succeed with this maneuver, Kliff drills him repeatedly in the stomach forcing Brett to release him. Sands fights through the pain though, as he refuses to allow Kliff to muster any type of offense or momentum and quickly clubs him over the back. Having seemingly dictated the pace from the outset, Brett looks to keep control as he charges for the ropes. Upon rebounding Sands goes for a Clothesline, but Kliff ducks then kicks him in the knee as he turns around, before firing another into his ribs and midsection to double him over. Ulysses then follows up with a Leaping DDT, spiking Brett head first into the canvas.

Dick Morosi: Kliff has finally turned this match around, Seth. He had been reeling for quite some time, but now he's got the ball in his court, and the match possibly in his back pocket as he looks for the win.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

Seth Ericson: Nope! You didn't honestly think being dropped on the head would be enough to put Sands away, did you Dick? I sure hope not. Brett's head is made of the hardest alloys known to man.

Dick Morosi: While you're full of one of the world's most known substances - crap.

Sands lifts his arm up within a split second, saving himself from utter defeat. The Ultimate Entertainer gets up into a kneeling position, the sweat running down his face, his eyes displaying a sort of focus that cannot be explained through facial expressions. Kliff takes a moment to catch his breath before getting back up to his feet. Sands plants his hands into the mat and pushes himself up with great force, a look of strained concentration wrinkling his face as he tries to shake the cobwebs whilst forcing himself back up to his knees. Ulysses quickly grapples him around the head, then unloads on his face with a series of stiff elbow strikes. The impact of each shot reverberates through the arena, as Sands helplessly watches each elbow come in and acquaint itself with his visage. Still grappling Brett's head, Kliff proceeds to greet his mug with his knee, blasting him repeatedly in the face with strikes that don't lack anything in force. Knowing he can't sustain any more damage to his money maker, Brett desperately shoves Ulysses back into the ropes, only for Kliff to rebound and charge forward with a Leaping Dropkick. He quickly drops down and pins Sands, keeping his shoulders flattened on the mat, Chris Dawson sliding down into position for the count.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

Sands lifts an arm up once more, shaving off defeat once again. Despite this, Ulysses doesn't seem too phased by it. Quickly, he shoots up to a vertical base, preparing his next attack. Even as Brett starts to try and get himself back to his feet, Kliff rockets off, hitting the ropes with his impressive speed and quickness. In fact, he moves so quickly that by the time the dazed Ohioan is up to even one knee, The Ultimate Entertainer is on him. Before Brett can turn his head to search for his adversary and match the incoming Minnesotan, a mighty and thunderous impact catches him, a familiar kneepad slamming into him out of his peripheral vision. The scene mimics that of the aftermath of a headshot from a close range firearm, as Sands goes right down without any protest from the vile Shining Wizard, his head bouncing off the canvas. Kliff's momentum carries him over to the opposite side of the ring, where he hastily shifts back into position, vying for the cover as he drops down to hook the incapacitated Sands' leg.

Seth Ericson: Kliff just went pinata at a kid's birthday party on Sands' head.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

Dick Morosi: NO! Brett with the kickout at about two and a half. That was a very close nearfall right there.

Kliff rolls backward and sits down, looking at referee Chris Dawson and back at Brett, as Sands pulls himself up on the ropes whilst Ulysses gets to his feet. Smelling blood in the water, Kliff traps Brett in the corner, and begins to assault him with fierce and relentless elbow strikes. The battered and befuddled Sands doesn't possess the wits to protect himself, and thus is helpless as Kliff continues to unload on him with STIFF shot after STIFF shot as he stabs his elbow into his foe's already dented-in cranium. Upon reaching nine, Ulysses backs into the center of the squared circle, motioning to the audience who clap in anticipation for the finale of his brutal strike combination. Kliff suddenly makes a mad dash for the ropes, leaping onto the middle before turning to the corner. In a sudden turn of events, Brett Sands, maybe running on impulse and instinct alone, dives forward to lower his shoulder to the incoming threat. He catches Ulysses in mid air with his massive shoulder blade, driving it into his opponent's solar plexus with vengeful malignancy as he drags him to the canvas. As the winds of change that had blown through the arena vanish, Sands merely collapses onto Ulysses for the pin.

Dick Morosi: SANDSPEAR! He caught him in mid air Seth! Brett just countered Helios -

Seth Ericson: And cut Kliff Ulysses in freakin' half in one motion! WOO-WEE! HAHA! That's why I love this damn kid. Yeah, he's got a loud mouth, and he might even be a tool. He's still talented as hell, and he's three seconds away from beating The Ultimate Entertainer, Dick!

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

Dawson's hand comes down for a third and final time but the count is interrupted by the rising shoulder of The Ultimate Entertainer. Sands looks up in disbelief as his patented Sandspear failed to put his opponent away for good. Brett removes himself from across Kliff's torso and rises up to his feet, a bead of sweat rolling down his face rather hurriedly as he looks down at his opponent's distorted figure. Brett mutters off a number of obscenities, apparently losing his composure as he can't get over the fact that he didn't get the win. Kliff slowly begins to stir, rolling over onto his stomach, prompting Brett to walk toward him. Brett puts a hand on Kliff's head to try and pick him up, but to no avail as Ulysses jabs him in the stomach, then gets up and delivers a stiff European Uppercut to Brett's chin. Sands stumbles backward as Kliff grabs him by the shoulders before rearing back his arm and delivering a huge knife edge chop across the Ohioan's chest, making Brett stumble backward onto the ropes.

Kliff goes to throw another chop, but Brett slaps his hand away and pokes Ulysses in the eye, stopping the showman in his tracks. Sands then ignores Chris Dawson who begins to warn him as he grabs Kliff's head before striking him in the chin with a European Uppercut that sends him staggering into the corner. Sands wastes no time in continuing his offense, as he steps into the corner, grabbing Kliff around the head with one hand before unloading on him with a series of headbutts. The Sands Combo leaves Kliff seemingly out on his legs, as he stumbles out of the corner right into a Big Boot that sends him to the canvas.

Dick Morosi: If you can't win fairly, a thumb to the eye always works.

Seth Ericson: You know it’s only cheating if you get caught, Dick. I’ll say one thing, Kliff is living up to his nickname, because it's extremely entertaining watching Brett beat him to within an inch of his life.

Dick Morosi: I can't believe you're rooting for this cheater. He's a disgrace. He has no respect for the business, the rules, or his opponent. He's-.

Seth Ericson: Worth the price of admission. That's what he is.

Brett grabs Kliff's ankle, then tries to turn him over, but Ulysses slides backward rolling over with his leg still in Sands' grasp, pushing himself up, and wildly mule kicking his foe in the gut. Brett doubles over and drops Kliff's leg, Ulysses quickly gets up and grabs Brett's arm, looking to whip him across the ring, only to have his Irish Whip countered with one by Sands who launches him into the ropes. The Ultimate Entertainer bounces off the cables, then uses his speed to leap forward with a Flying Forearm that knocks Sands to the canvas. Both men lie motionless for a few seconds, until Kliff electrifies the arena with a kip-up, landing on his feet and immediately pumping a fist into the air to the Japanese crowd's approval. Harnessing their applause into a second wind, Kliff backs away and begins climbing the turnbuckle. Just as Ulysses reaches the top, Sands scurries back to a vertical base and charges right at the corner. He clubs him over the lower back to prevent him from jumping down, then climbs up top to join him. Sands immediately vies for an Avalanche Belly to Back Suplex, but Kliff is having none of it as he counters with back elbows to the right side of Brett's head. He comes back with a series of shots to the left side, and the assault on the Ohioan's cranium is enough to send Sands plummeting down to the canvas. Kliff blows a kiss to the crowd, then leaps off in a Moonsault before driving his knee right down into Brett's face. As Brett's body becomes inanimate, Ulysses goes for the cover.

Seth Ericson: Not the face... DAMMIT NOT HIS FACE!

"ONE!"

Dick Morosi: The Cunning-Salt! High risk, high reward, and that could be the move that cements Kliff's comeback!

"TWO!"

Sands kicks out right before Dawson's hand hits the mat for a third time.

Seth Ericson: NO! Brett Sands is still alive. He's got guts. He may no longer have a face, but he's got plenty of intestinal fortitude - that's for damn sure!

Dick Morosi: I didn't think he'd get up after that, I'll give him that. Sands came to play tonight, as did Ulysses. They're treating those in attendance here at the KBS Hall to a match they will not soon forget.

The crowd becomes somewhat restless, seeing as their hero has failed to secure the victory once more. Kliff's second wind vanishes as quickly as it manifested, and he stares at the canvas, deliberating about what to do next. The Ultimate Entertainer begins pounding his chest, seemingly going into the zone as the fans in the HBS Hall begin to chime in; either via clapping their hands, slapping their thighs or banging the guardrail, the patrons desperately try to aid Ulysses in any way they can. As the commotion becomes louder, the Minnesotan quickly begins to wind up his arm.

Seth Ericson: These fans want it! The Angel Arm is going to slay the Devil of Ohio.

Kliff backs up closer to the ropes as his target begins to stir. Weary, beaten, and with a bloodied lip, Brett senses the vibrations from the fan's fandom, and immediately knows that something terrible is afoot, albeit subconsciously. Struggling as he does so, Sands gradually raises his stature to one knee. Kliff, flashing a sly and confident grin, quickly launches himself across the ring in response. The Humanoid Typhoon looks prime to land his patented elbow, however, when he gets within range he's suddenly lifted into the air and onto the shoulders of Sands who recovers to hoist him up in a Fireman's Carry in one fluid motion.

Aware of his foe's intentions, an elusive Ulysses squirms out of Brett's grasp and ends up slipping out of the hold he was in, landing safely on the mat right behind him. As Sands turns around, Kliff scores with a toe-kick before following up with a front facelock. The Minnesotan has the ODSE on his mind, but it isn't in the cards as the Ohioan hooks his aggressor's legs with his own to prevent the Jr. Heavyweight from lifting him up. Persistent, Ulysses tries again but to no avail. However, there will not be a third time as Brett counters with a Suplex of his own, hoisting his adversary into a Vertical-Plex position, only to flip him onto his shoulders and thrust him into the turnbuckles with a vile, and malicious Buckle Bomb. Debilitated by the near spinal reconstructing maneuver, Ulysses careens out of the corner - only to be beheaded by a Discus Lariat that turns him inside out.

Dick Morosi: GOOD LORD!

On all fours, Sands takes a breath or two before vying for the victory. He crawls just enough to lunge onto his sprawling opponent. Totally convinced that he has finished his foe off, Sands does not even bother to cover him properly, simply leaning his back against Kliff's inanimate carcass and limply lifting his near leg a few inches off the mat . Chris Dawson drops down and begins the count.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

The Minnesotan jerks his leg out of Sands' grip and rolls a shoulder over - Brett flops to the mat, unable to keep up this level of tenacity. Both competitors lay unmoving on the canvas, staring glassy eyed at the ceiling.

Seth Ericson: WHAT? HE KICKED OUT!

Dick Morosi: You're not the only one in disbelief, Sands can't believe it either, Seth. He's shocked, as is this crowd and everyone tuning in at home. Kliff Ulysses just refuses to stay down.

Seth Ericson: Brett nailed Decapitation, and I thought he put the nail in the coffin there. What the hell is Kliff Ulysses made of, Dick?

Dick Morosi: Heart and true grit, a kind of fortitude and toughness that has left Brett Sands wondering what on Earth he has to do to put him away.

Finally showing signs of life, Sands rolls onto his front and balls his fists, then slams them into the mat out of pure and utter frustration. His mind is a menagerie of sound, until he is able to quiet the noise and filter his thoughts. With an arrogant smirk on his mug, Brett slowly gets up and turns to the crowd to raise an arm into the air, drawing a huge chorus of boos from the fans in attendance.

Looking behind him, he sees Kliff trying to somehow make his way up. Sands knows exactly what he will do next, as it appears academic at this point. Bending slightly, he waits for Ulysses to reach a vertical base, grinning vindictively as he prepares his killing blow.

Seth Ericson: Brett is about to kill Kliff's dream of a successful comeback.

Once The Ultimate Entertainer is standing, Sands turns him around and squats down before lifting him up onto his shoulders. Once again, Ulysses desperately tries to counter - this time by maliciously driving his elbow into the Ohioan's temple. The damage to his cranium forces Brett to drop the Minnesotan who staggers back into the ropes. Groggy and befuddled, the punch-drunk villain slumps down to a knee, the expression on his sweaty face being that of a man seemingly out on his legs. Sensing this, Kliff suddenly charges forward once again with an attempt to end things with The Angel Arm. He comes within a foot of his target....

Only for Sands to once again counter and pull him up into the Fireman's Carry, apparently playing possum as he lead Kliff into his trap. Brett backs into the center of the squared circle, gritting his teeth intensely before swinging Ulysses off his shoulder.

Dick Morosi: Here it comes!

Showing his own technical prowess, Ulysses somehow exploits his momentum to swing down onto his feet, pulling Brett into a grapple of some sort in the process. With Brett's head in his clutches, Ulysses bends him forward before repeatedly blasting him in the head with STIFF, VILE, and VICIOUS knee strikes. Following the fifth in the barrage of blows Kliff releases Sands, whose eyes roll to the back of his head as he drops to both knees. With vigor and haste, Ulysses leans into the ring cables before sprinting forward into a lunge. The Ultimate Entertainer cocks his arm back, then swings his blade through the atmosphere, smashing it right into Brett's face and knocking him flat on his back.

Dick Morosi: THE ANGEL ARM!

Seth Ericson: He got ALL of that. Sands is out cold dick. Quick, someone get a bucket of water to wake him up.

Ulysses immediately grabs his incapacitated foe's ankles and flips forward to lock him into a Jackknife Pin as the crowd reaches a fever pitch. As the zebra-clad official slides into position, the spectators look on enthusiastically.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

"THREE!"

"Run Like Hell" starts again, and the crowd erupts for the victory of Kliff Ulysses!

WINNER: Kliff Ulysses

Dick Morosi: HE HAS NOT MISSED A BEAT! Kliff Ulysses hit that Angel Arm, and he has returned to EXODUS Pro!

Seth Ericson: People knew Kliff was one of the best in the business when he debuted in EXODUS, but now it's obvious that he's at the top now!

Once the theme fades out, Kliff Ulysses rolls out of the ring. Brett Sands, looking absolutely exhausted, begins walking towards the side of the ropes nearest the side of where the ring announcer is at and shouts for a microphone. One of the stagehands close by runs up to the Ohioan with a microphone in his hand, which he extends out for Brett to take. Sands swipes the mic out of the stagehand's hand before turning his attention back to the entranceway, slowly catching his breath.

Brett Sands: Christian Kane....BRING YOUR ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW AND LET'S FIGHT!

Dick Morosi: What the hell does Brett Sands think he is doing?

Seth Ericson: Something...stupid. Guy just wrestled a match against Kliff Ulysses that by no means was a walk in the park. Calling out Christian Kane, who has had time to regain his strength and stamina...come on now.



The EXODUS Pro audience lets out a huge pop as Christian Kane steps out through the curtains and looks down at the ring at Brett Sands, letting out a chuckle and a shake of the head. As his theme continues to play, Kane begins making his way down to the ring before he stops...and notices one particular fan in the front row. A beautiful female fan with a #StudLife2014 sign in front of her smiles at Kane, who looks at Brett and tells him to wait a moment before walking over to the fan, pulling a pen from out of nowhere as he looks ready to probably sign two certain things that really jump out at everyone. Once he's by the fan, he introduces himself...only for the woman to be moved out of the way and a masked man with a taser in hand to appear in front of Kane. Before CK can even blink, the fake Big Brother catches him right on the shoulder, sending shockwaves all throughout the Handsome Drifter's body.

Dick Morosi: WHAT THE HELL?! It's the fake Big Brother!

Seth Ericson: He just caught Christian Kane with that taser!

Kane drops to the ground, fidgeting as the shock from the taser does its work and basically leaves the Canadian defenseless. The fake Big Brother laughs as he begins running away from nearby security. Meanwhile, Brett Sands watches this from the ring with a surprised look on his face before quickly sliding out and heading towards the still defenseless CK. A bunch of medics and refs come through the curtain to check on CK and even motion for Brett to stay away. Sands, still keeping an innocent look about him, raises up his hands to let them know that he doesn't plan on doing anything.

Seth Ericson: Look at Brett Sands! He's such a saint!

Dick Morosi: *rolling his eyes* Yeah, right.

Brett kneels down next to Christian and waits for him to stop shaking before patting him on the chest and asking him as if he was ok. After looking at the medics, Sands gets to his feet and looks out at the audience before shrugging his shoulders....and beginning to stomp the hell out of the defenseless Christian Kane, garnering boos from the audience!

Dick Morosi: Oh, come on now!

The refs try to pull Brett off, but he just snarls at them before reaching down and grabbing Christian Kane by the head. He slowly gets the Canadian to his feet before tossing him into the barricade! The audience just continues to boo as Brett repeats the process of getting Christian up to both feet before tossing him forward, towards the ring. Christian Kane just rolls on the ground, looking like he's out cold, while Brett just cockily struts towards him before grabbing him by the head once more and tossing him into the steel steps, Kane hitting them with a thud!

Seth Ericson: Well, looks like Brett Sands has absolutely no problem attacking someone who's practically defenseless. Go figure.

Dick Morosi: Somebody should put a stop to this! This is horrible!

Sands grabs Kane once more and this time, he slides him into the ring. Before Brett can get in there himself, he notices the audience booing him for the first time (probably EVER) and takes a few seconds to mock them before sliding into the ring himself. This time, he sees that Christian Kane is using the ropes closest to himself to at least get up, so he just sits there and waits for Kane to get to his feet. Kane's use of the ropes is a success, so Sands motions for him to come forward, but as soon as he tries it, he collapses back to the ground and is on all fours. This is when Sands grabs Kane, hoists him up on his shoulders, and winks out at the audience before tossing Kane up into the air and bring him down onto the mat with a Dream Killer!

Seth Ericson: Dream Killer by Brett Sands!

Sands drops to his knees and looks down at Kane, a big grin on his face. Slowly, he gets to his feet and raises his hands high up in the air in victory as the refs and medics begin checking on Kane, the scene slowly fading out to commercial.