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The first match for this new company, meant to introduce the most exciting young up and coming wrestlers. The first match should embody this, starting things off with a bang to make a good first impression. Instead someone decided to book Chris Marks. And while the crowd was, initially, not amused at all with this choice, it turned out to be a good one for Nate Soto, as this match turned into the Nate Soto Showcase. For five and a quarter minutes, Chris Marks was subjected to the full extent of Soto's arsenal, finding his limbs getting stretched to the limit in between bouts of getting dropped on his head. All of this happened to high cheering from the crowd, which seemed to please the rookie Soto, who finished off Marks by locking in his cross arm breaker finisher, the sight of Chris Marks tapping earning a huge amount of applause from the crowd. The guy who booked Marks for the opener gets to keep their job.

EXODUS wrestler, Spirit Z, was rushed to the ER tonight after collapsing in the locker room of a EXODUS event in San Diego, California. He was reported unconscious at scene, and is in a coma.

30-year old Spirit Z (real name, Jesse Lewis) who famously known for his successful run in True Honor Wrestling in 2012 -- was last seen walking into the locker room. He puked for a quick second, and then collapsed unconsciously.

An emergency response crew was dispatched to the locker room, where they performed CPR on Z. He was immediately taken to a nearby hospital for treatment.

He was seen falling to his knee a couple times earlier in his match.

EXODUS officials have no clue as to what is wrong with Spirit Z, but is in critical condition.

Story developing...

We come back from commercial, and Tom Matheny is standing by with Jonathan Collins, who is nodding.

Tom Matheny: Jonathan Collins, you're here to make a couple of announcements regarding the Brightest Day Cibernetico?

Jonathan nods, patting his long time friend on the shoulder, almost grinning from ear to ear.

Jonathan Collins: I am, my friend. See, the Brightest Day Cibernetico is going to set the company on a path for a new day. It's the Brightest Day because this company is in a dark time right now, and one of these ten people could do their best to bring it out of that funk. That being said, the committee choosing the Captains for the Cibernetico have definitely agreed Fiona Collins will be captaining one team. The second team, however...after much deliberation, the committee has agreed unanimously that the second captain will be Jimmy Riley. His trophy case and performance in the Honor Cup was more than enough to assure him a spot in the match itself, and we feel that this adds an interesting dynamic to the match.

Tom seems genuinely surprised that they would pit the two friends against one another.

Tom Matheny: Jon...you couldn't have been okay with this.

Jonathan Collins: Tom...this was the only way I could make this work. I trust them, especially after what happened at the Honor Cup. We're family. The Marauders are family. And we'll get through this. Right now, we just have to deal with another situation.

Tom Matheny: What's that?

The door to Jon's office opens behind both of them and out emerged the same African-American man that seemingly intimidated Nicholas Gray and Meta Johnson last show.

Cleon Gray: Jonathan.

Jonathan Collins: Mr. Gray.

Cleon Gray: You made the right choice.

Jonathan Collins: I know, sir.

Cleon Gray: Good. Tell Fiona and Jimmy congratulations on their wins tonight. They earned their places.

Cleon nods and Jonathan watches as he walks off, a look of concern on his face as we go back to Dick & Seth.

Dick Morosi: Well...there's our answer. Collins, Nicholas Gray, and...Cleon Gray?

Seth Ericson: This Cleon dude seems like a loose cannon to me. He might just put anyone in the Cibernetico...hell, he might even put ME in the Ciber---OH HEY, HOW YA DOIN', CLEON?

Dick Morosi: You're insane.

Seth Ericson: Only sometimes! I'm still not as bad as the people in our main event!

Dick Morosi: And it's gonna get a little crazy tonight in that main event! Andreas Lasiewicz teams up with Wulf Erikssen to face Christum Furor and Ryuji Kamigawa next!

MAIN EVENT: TAG TEAM MATCH
MAGNUS GUNNER (EXODUS Pro World Champion) & RYUJI KAMIGAWA VS. ANDREAS LASIEWICZ & WULF ERIKSSEN

A buzz fills the arena once more, that however is tentative as the tron lights up with a flicker and static, like a busted radio or television set before showing a rapid slideshow display of explosions, war scenes and historical political figures before ending with the"G&M" logo.

“...WE ARE... THE LEADERS.... OF THE NEW AGE..."

Suddenly, the arena lights black out, and the teaming masses of humanity immediately boo as “Pulse of the Maggots” by Slipknot begins to play. The drums begin to play with a doominous tone in them, brooding yet energetic. There’s an extreme aura of detestation in the venue, as majority of the audience continue to boo and jeer vehemently, and vociferously, drowning out the select number of disciples who chant “Gods & Monsters” to show their support. This reaction is garnered by the two high profile individuals behind the music, the founders of the villainous, nefarious, bloodthirsty stable that have plagued EXODUS. Suddenly and finally the self-proclaimed leaders of the “New Age” appear in the crowd, emerging in the sea of fans. Christum Furor is the first to become visible, standing tall, arms out in his infamous crucifix pose. The God in White is right beside him, glaring through the capacity crowd.

"THIS IS THE YEAR WHERE HOPES FAILS YOU
AND THE TEST SUBJECTS RUN THE EXPERIMENTS
AND THE BASTARD YOU KNOW, IS THE HERO YOU HATE..."

"....BUT COHESING IS POSSIBLE IF WE STRIVE
THERES NO REASON, THERES NO LESSON
NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT, TELLING YOU RIGHT NOW
WHAT HAVE YOU GOT TO LOSE, WHAT HAVE YOU GO TO LOSE
EXCEPT YOUR SOUL...."

"WHO'S WITH US!"

David Zinkus: And now at a combined weight of five hundred and fifty-two pounds.. they are the team of EXODUS World Champion Christum Furor, and Ryuji Kamigawa… this is GODS & MONSTERS!

The behemoths make their way down the stairs and onto the arena floor. They step over the guardrails, planting their feet on the ringside mats. Both men begin sauntering toward the ring. Ryuji, as usual, is dressed in white tuxedo pants and black wrestling boots, showing off the tapestry of tattoos inked into his upperbody along with the G&M insignia, while Furor sports a "G&M" T-shirt, sleeveless and handcut which sits over his singlet to exhibit his fine collection of scars, wounds and tattoos. Aside from that he wears long black boots, knee pads, and taped fists from wrists to knuckles. Kamigawa climbs into the ring while his co-founder and brethren elects to scale the outside turnbuckle, posing in his iconic crucifix once more, eliciting a strong chorus of boos from his detractors.



Christum Furor steps down to the apron, and slips through the ropes to join his partner in the ring. The Michigander removes the World Title from around his waist and hands it to the nearby ring attendant before walking past Kamigawa to the corner, and slumps down into it, taking a seat whilst leaning against the turnbuckle padding without an absolute care in the free-world, completely detached from everything around him. Kamigawa slowly moves into the adjacent corner, lifting himself to a perch on the top buckle, brooding mutually as he stares out into the crowd, surveying the landscape and soaking in their negativity. The music suddenly fades out, and the lights return to their normal fixture; in the distance, in the rafters, the "God's and Monsters" chants build up again, the supporters of the menacing team fueled on violence and blood-thirst, until their cheers are drowned out once again by detestation and abhorrence in the form of boos and jeers from the rest of the crowd.

Dick Morosi: These two do not look pleased by anything, man.

Seth Ericson: But that doesn't mean that they won't be pleased with the violence that's about to come.

Dick Morosi: And I believe we've got something huge coming up next!

The opening words of "Barroom Hero" by the Dropkick Murphys echo around the arena as the entranceway becomes illuminated in red and white light. As the music kicks in, Wulf enters the arena with a bottle of beer in his hand, escorted by Stacey-X. Wulf walks about the entranceway, drinking from the bottle whilst saluting the crowd, as Stacey eggs the crowd on, clapping her hands.

David Zinkus: AND THEIR OPPONENTS! First, from Romford, Essex, England, weighing in at 224 pounds...he is one half of the EXODUS Pro Tag Team Champions...THE BAR ROOM HERO, WULF ERIKSSEN!

He then downs the remainder of the bottle, before smashing it over his head. Following this, he sprints to the ring, sliding in under the bottom rope. He climbs one of the turnbuckles, and raises an arm in salute to the audience, as Stacey walks down to ringside. Wulf then turns to face his opponent, cracking his knuckles as he waits. Referee Brian Lowery prevent the two from attacking Wulf, but the crowd is starting to chant and wait in anticipation, before...

The lights in the arena begin to dim slightly as a faint yet beautiful piano piece begins to play out in the background. Several spotlights circle around the arena as the crowd looks around in awe. Swirling violins begin to play out a haunting rhythm as smoke emits from the entrance way. Barbarian Horns fire up along with a thunderous dub step beat and distorted guitars as the Instrumental Core Remix of Hans Zimmer’s ‘Time’ fully kicks in. A hooded silhouette appears in the thick grey smog; his head is bowed as he methodically makes his way to the ring. The shrouded figure of Andreas Lasiewicz steps out from the back, seemingly smoking a cigarette; his head lolled to one side as he surveys the crowd with a police baton resting on his shoulder. He pauses then points his baton towards the ring as he slowly paces there.

David Zinkus: AND HIS PARTNER! From Krakow, Poland, weighing in at 257 pounds...he is the 2014 Honor Cup winner...THE SILVER EAGLE...THE MORNING STAR...ANDREAS LASIEWICZ!

As he reaches the ring, he stops to stare out in to the crowd, he flips back his hood and lets out a short, cruel laugh as he rolls into the ring and removes his jacket. He climbs one of the turnbuckles, searching out into the crowd with a Cheshire Cat grin across his face. He hops down as he spins the baton around in his left hand for a moment before resting back against the turnbuckle, staring up into the heavens as if he is looking for answers.

Dick Morosi: Las looks pretty foc---OFF WE GO!

Wulf and Las waste no time, going after the two members of Gods & Monsters. Las is after the bigger Kamigawa, while Wulf takes on the World Champion. The two have them backed in separate corners diagonal from one another as the crowd starts chanting as the two climb to pound fists into the faces of those villains!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

NINE!

TEN!

They hop down and whip the two founders of G&M into one another, sending them colliding as Wulf and Las begin pacing around, daring them to come back into the ring!

Dick Morosi: Erikssen and Lasiewicz are wasting absolutely NO time! The two of them are off and running, and nobody is going stop them from getting some revenge tonight!

Seth Ericson: After what those two endured two weeks ago, one would expect something like this! Las was brutalized and they cost him the International Title, and Kamigawa destroyed Wulf's partner, giving him a serious concussion that has kept him out of action here tonight!

Las looks at Wulf, nodding as he grabs the Bar Room Hero, whipping him toward the opposing team, Wulf flying through the ropes with a plancha that takes out the dastardly duo! Wulf continues to go after Kamigawa as Lasiewicz slides out of the ring, chasing after the World Champion, each of them finally attacking the one they really wanted. Wulf chases Kamigawa into the ring, who bounces off the ropes, and as he comes back towards Wulf, he greets the Tag Team Champion with a running sidewalk slam that drops him down painfully. As order is slowly restored, Kamigawa quickly picks up Wulf and sends him into the corner of G&M, tagging in Gunner. The two send Wulf to the ropes, and when he bounces back, Kamigawa catches him in a variation of the BAKEMONO-666, while Gunner comes flying into Erikssen's face with a Busaiku Knee Kick, bringing down Erikssen with a spinebuster variation! Gunner quickly runs back and lands a huge senton splash, with Kamigawa taking up for a jumping splash! Kamigawa rolls out of the ring as Gunner hooks the leg for a pin!

One...










TWo....









LASIEWICZ WITH THE SAVE! The referee admonishes him as he tries to go help his partner, but Gunner continues to pound away at him. Quickly, Gunner goes to get Wulf up to his feet but kneeled over...he stomps...elbow...HE COMPLETES THE COUP DE MORT! Wulf is down, and Gunner charges over to the other corner, giving Lasiewicz a discus elbow! As Lasie tries to come back and get some revenge, the referee is wrapped up, and again Kamigawa and Gunner go back at it. Kamigawa slaps his hands together loudly to simulate a tag to bring himself into the ring, before picking up Wulf and chucking him into a corner to hit Snake Eyes before he bounces off the ropes...HUGE YAKUZA KICK! Wulf goes down and Kamigawa dusts his hands off before trying to hit a jumping leg---WULF GETS OUT OF THE WAY! Kamigawa lands on his ass and Wulf greets him...SOCCER KICK! Wulf lays there as Kamigawa tries to recover, both of them looking dazed and confused! Wulf is doing his best to recover, and as Kamigawa makes it over to tag in Gunner, Wulf tries to make a leap...BUT HE'S STOPPED! Furor picks him up on his shoulders for an electric chair...HE'S GOING FOR A GER---WULF LANDS ON HIS FEET AND STOPS THE CHAOS THEORY! Wulf spins Furor around...FALCON PUNCH! Wulf rolls over to his corner to tag in Lasiewicz, and Las runs in...LARIAT TO FUROR! Kamigawa comes in...LARIAT TO HIM! Furor tries to attack him again...PEACEMAKER! Lasiewicz lets out a primal roar, and...POLISH HAMMER TO THE CHAMP! Lasie has gone all out, and he looks ready to take on everyone!

Dick Morosi: Andreas Lasiewicz has been building this up, and we are ready to go!

Seth Ericson: SOMEONE PUT A LEASH AND MUZZLE ON LAS, THIS IS RIDICULOUS!

Las instantly looks towards the World Champion...SUICIDE DIVE TO THE OUTSIDE! Gunner and Lasiewicz have connected, and he's thrown the World Champion into the crowd! The two of them are refusing to stop the fight, and it's left their partners all alone! The two are spent, and as Kamigawa tries to charge Wulf, Wulf runs forward...FALCON PUNCH FOR KAMIGAWA! He watches as Ryuji stumbles...HE LEAPS UP FOR THE MONSTER KILLER! He's got Kamigawa trapped in that katihajime, and he's....HE GETS KAMIGAWA TO TAP! "Bar Room Hero" starts up, and we have a winner!

WINNER: ANDREAS LASIEWICZ & WULF ERIKSSEN

Before Wulf Erikssen can even celebrate the monumental victory over Gods & Monsters, the remainder of the aforementioned faction suddenly rush from the back. Lead by Kira T. Zepelli and Jerry Matthews, the four other members of G&M immediately descend on the ring where Wulf and a returning Andreas desperately attempt to fend them off.

Dick Morosi: Not again, not again. They’re going to tear the Seikigun apart Seth.

Seth Ericson: What did you expect Dick? Didn’t you hear what Furor said earlier tonight? The plan all along was to take out Lasie, and Wulf is just the icing on the cake. Two birds with one stone.

Matthews and Kira have Lasie in one corner, Taylor and Emi have Wulf cornered in the other, and they’re laying the boots to both men. They’re picking them apart just after the wrestled a hellacious tag match, picking their bones like vultures. Despite how valiantly they fight back to turn back the tide, the two Seikigun members are unable to ford off the attack of the combined forces of Gods & Monsters. The four barbarians beat their opposition into the ground, and relentlessly and maliciously continue their assault as the co-founders of the nihilistic like faction begin to regroup and regather their bearings.

Seth Ericson: Kamigawa and Furor are back on their feet. If you thought it was bad for those two before, NOW it’s about to get really bad.

Dick Morosi: It’s just like Andreas said! They claim to be different, but they’re just like LEGION. They’re resorted to this honorless, heinous assaults and tactics. This is sick and sadistic. They’re like a pack of rabid wolves Seth.

While his followers continue to do their dastardly deeds, Furor motions to the timekeeper’s table and demands that he be handed his World Championship. Zinkus brings it over, and the madman snatches it from him before clutching it dearly for life right at his chest. He backpedals into the nearest corner, and his countenance undergoes a metamorphosis. He has a sinister look on his visage, and his cold-blooded eyes suddenly become detached and vacant. He has absolutely no care for the well being of the two men his disciples are ripping apart. Having taking a back seat long enough, he motions to the group to stand Lasiewicz up and bring him into the center of the ring.

Matthews and Kira hold him by each arm and drag The Morning Star into the heart of the squared circle, prompting Furor to brush back his black locks and saunter toward him. Life finally comes back to Christum’s face as it brightens up with a sadistic facial expression, almost as if he is salivating at the very prospect of once again making an example of the man he is scheduled to defend his championship against in just a month’s time. The vindictive madman lifts up Lasie’s head, and stares him right in his glazed eyes, murmuring a number of things to him that go unheard due to the vociferous level of noise created from the tumultuous audience that is booing heavily in response to G&M’s heartless exhibition. Furor’s smile widens on his sweaty mug, the same evil, devilish grin that has transcended EXODUS wrestling; the one he is infamous for. In show of defiance toward his antagonist, Andreas spits into the World Champion’s face. The smile then vanishes from Christum’s visage, the smirk contorts into a bitter scowl before the Michigander cocks back his championship. WIth tremendous vigor he steps forward and swings it with utter malevolence, smashing it right into Lasie’s face and knocking him out cold.

Dick Morosi: This Gods & Monsters menace has to be stopped Seth, it just has to. This Christum Furor character, the man formerly known as Magnus Gunner, he is nothing but a tyrant - a self-absorbed, sadistic tyrant.

Seth Ericson: Yeah well, who the hells gonna stop him? Unless you’re going to do something about it I suggest you watch what you say around that guy. And for the love of God don’t bring up the name Magnus Gunner. God knows what he’ll do if he HEARS YOU!

Furor lurches over to the ropes, asking for a microphone from Zinkus, then snatches it upon David obliging before stumbling back into the middle of the ring, looking around at the appalled crowd.

Christum Furor: DO YOU SEE IT?! DO YOU SEE IT? Do you see that the future belongs to those willing to get their hands dirty, to the disconcerted, to the opened and evolved mind, heart and soul. And those of you who are unwilling to change, who give their all, dedicate their lives to protect a corrupt system that cares nothing about them - THIS IS YOUR IMPENDING FATE!

Boos erupt from the crowd as the World Champion pauses his spiel, then continues.

Christum Furor: I will not bow down to this corruption. I will not conform to his broken system. I’ve seen the ugly side of professional wrestling, I’ve tasted the despair, and dwelled in the abyss. I WAS THERE! I reached out for a hand to save me, BUT NO ONE ANSWERED MY CALL. NO - NO - this business took EVERYTHING from me, and left me for DEAD. But that’s when I realized something… through madness I achieved total clarity, and I was able to see through the facades and illusions and now I understand that these promoters, this directors, they’re nothing but politicians who LIE THROUGH THEIR TEETH, who send us to slaughter week in and week out without a care in the world, just as long as we continue to make them profit. I WILL NOT BE THEIR PUPPET! THEY CANNOT PULL MY STRINGS! I WILL NOT BE TOLD HOW TO THINK!!!

Furor’s face alters in pigmentation to a bright red color due to the built up anger and frustration. Realizing he’s beginning to lose it, he stops and takes a moment to breath and collect himself.

Christum Furor: No, they will not control my mind, never again. This system will never keep me down again, it will never influence me to do it’s bidding. I will not follow a path that I did not choose, I will not accept the destiny I’ve been inherited, the ideals and philosophies that have been passed down to me. I will not abide by these rules and regulations when it’s clear that they’re CORRUPT, that they’re PRIMITIVE, OUTDATED AND UNJUST. NO! I refuse to accept the world for what it is, rather I’ve question everything I’m told… I seek knowledge. And that pursuit of knowledge has led me to this LOGICAL conclusion… that the world is in need of creative extremists… it’s in need of them to destroy the system and build a better world.. a NEW AGE! And that’s what I’ve created. THIS is the future of professional wrestling… Gods & Monsters, the leaders of the better tomorrow, the architects of the future. WE HAVE WALKED THROUGH THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH… AND WE HAVE ENDURED FOR THE SAKE OF HUMANITY!

The madman stops once again as the crowd breaks into chants of, ‘YOU’RE NO GOD!’

Christum Furor: And that’s why we will NOT be turned away… we will NOT go quietly into the night… we will NOT go back. I have shown you all the truth, I have shown you the hypocrisy of your ideals and the error of your ways. I have shown you the path to total and absolute enlightenment - but you have REJECTED IT! You reject it! The Seikigun rejects it because they mindlessly hold onto their inherited ethics with blind faith. They reject it because they’re afraid of being casted out and alienated and they desperately want to be accepted. No matter how bad this world is, how corrupt our system is, how CORRUPT PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING IS… they and the majority of you maggots just want to be apart of it because you all fear the unknown… you FEAR CHANGE! Well WE are the minority… WE are the few who transcend our time, who have evolved to become DEITIES! WE are GODS & MONSTERS and I am the one and only CHRISTUM FUROR! I am the the ABSOLUTE! THE ANOMALY! THE ONE, and THIS is my manifest destiny coming to fruition. Continue to shade your eyes, eventually you will see my shining future… you will see that there’s nothing ANY of you can do to stop THIS. THIS IS THE NEW AGE AND WE ARE THE RULERS OF THE UNIVERSE!

All of a sudden, “Light Up The Sky” begins to blast out through the speakers, stunning the audience and probably annoying the World champion (but who cares, right?). Blake Jones, the “Philly Young Gun”, steps through the curtains, still dressed in his ring gear from his match earlier on in the night. This time, there is no smile on his face.

Christum Furor: Don’t patronized me Blake! What is this, some sort of joke? YOU - YOU- YOU think you can stop Gods & Monsters and the NEW AGE? YOU think you can stop ME?

More attention turns to the entryway as Furor’s goading continues. The spectators’ attention is fully locked on the young upstart, fiery superstar - however there does not seem to be a smile plastered on Blake’s face. Instead, Blake keeps a stoic expression on his face as he heads down the ramp. Jones quickly makes it down to ringside and the cheers continue on from the audience as the young man who was part of the winning team during that brutal War Games match last year makes his way to the steel steps. Gods & Monsters suddenly exit the ring, and slowly begin to surround the courageous young star. The former San Diego Bay Champion looks around from shoulder to shoulder, having been stopped in his tracks by the six men and women who appear to be about to give Jones the same fate as his fellow Seikigun members. However just when it seems they’re going to move in for the proverbial kill, Furor speaks into the microphone once again.

Christum Furor: Brothers and sisters, don’t even worry about this one. He isn’t worth your time and effort. No, I’ll handle him myself, I’ll allow him to be a martyr and a symbol like his fellow friends. If he’s come to die, then as the GOD of EXODUS and the GOD of the NEW AGE I will grant his wish.

Blake looks around, fists cocked as he’s somewhat unsure about what the madman has planned for him. Shockingly enough, the wolves backpedal away from him, much to the crowd’s dismay, but the delight of the World Champion. As if the sea has been parted for him, the “Philly Young Gun” quickly makes his way up the steps and into the ring, locking eyes with what most would consider an intimidating Christum Furor. The man formerly known as Magnus Gunner continues to have an unimpressed expression on his face as the high flyer out of Philadelphia makes his way over to the near corner and calls out for a microphone. David Zinkus quickly rushes forward and hands the young gentleman his mic before rushing back over to his seat.

Seth Ericson: What in THE HELL is Blake Jones thinking right now?

Dick Morosi: Couldn’t tell you, Seth. All I know is, the kid is out here and he has something to say.

Jones eyes Furor up and down as his music dies out and the audience cheers die down as well. Blake looks out at the audience, then back at Furor, eying the man who proclaims himself to be some sort of God up and down once more. The former San Diego Bay champion does not seem ready to speak, but the murmuring in the audience due to the silence seems to practically force the “Philly Young Gun’s” hand.

Blake Jones: Do I think I can stop you? Do I think I can stop Gods & Monsters? Let me tell you something. Look at the people you have following you. I’ve already beaten two of them, and I could have beaten a third earlier tonight. Can I defeat Gods & Monsters by myself? Hell no! For that, I’ll need this really awesome group that pounded LEGION into oblivion about...eight months ago? That about right?

Blake looks for confirmation at this statement from Christum Furor, but quickly gets his answer from this know-it-all who knows everything about EXODUS. Jones nods his head as he hears the man’s answer before turning back around and locking eyes with the World champion.

Blake Jones: But can I defeat you? Hell, crazier things have happened when yours truly steps into a ring. I believe that on any night, at any show, everybody can beat everybody as long as they show that they have the heart and determination to pull off said victory. Now, do I believe I can stop the almighty...Christum Furor? You bet your ass I do.

The San Francisco audience lets out a loud roar of approval as Blake continues to keep a stoic expression on his face. Not taking his eyes off of the man he is currently addressing, Jones begins pacing back and forth just a little bit as he speaks.

Blake Jones: Now, I’m not gonna go into a long rant about this and that and whatever. Fact of the matter is, if you truly don’t think I can beat you, then I challenge you to a match...and if you are really looking to gamble and you consider facing me an easy victory, then you can go ahead and put that title right on up against me too!

Once the “Philly Young Gun” points his index finger at the World title, the approval of the match being made is almost unanimous. There are still a few boos from those G&M fans (crazy people), but the cheers in the audience completely overcome them.

Blake Jones: What do you say?

Christum Furor furrows his brow, a look of of both disgust and disbelief manifests on his mug as he looks out to the audience. His gaze returns back to Jones who holds his ground, wholeheartedly believing in everything that he’s said, nodding slowly as he thinks about the possibilities of a showdown with what could possibly be the biggest superstar in the company right now. Furor shakes his head in pity and frustration, then raises the microphone towards his face, the tension building as everyone waits for him to speak.

Christum Furor: Christum Furor… the GOD of EXODUS… facing off against… Blake Jones? Jonathan has really done a number on you, he’s really deluded you into adopting his rhetoric and belief system. You think if try your best, and put your heart and soul into this business that you can accomplish your dreams, but you can’t. No, Blake, you really can’t. You think by coming out here and standing up to Gods & Monsters, that you’re some type of hero. But you’re delusional, you’re a delusional fool Jones. You’re no hero, you’re merely a pawn. You’re merely expendable to Jonathan Collins. He does not care for you, the Seikigun does not care for you. The all pursue self-gratification, they all hope to pad their egos. They’re just as devious and demonic as those they judge, they’re just as reprehensible as GODS & MONSTERS and EVERYONE else that they claim to hate and be better then. And you know the sad thing Blake, they think so little of you that they’re allowed you to come out here on your own, facing the most dominant, fearsome faction in the history of professional wrestling. Where are your reinforcements? Huh? Where are Lifer and Fiona? Where’s the politician? They’re not here Blake, they’re not here for YOU.

Furor pauses as jeers and boos suddenly fill the arena. The World Champion patiently waits for the audience’s hatred to subside, then steps forward to come face to face with the man that has challenged him for the top prize in the company - the same company he aspires to destroy for his New Age to flourish.

Christum Furor: IS THIS WHAT YOU PEOPLE WANT?!

Furor seems to be slipping into his madness, into that dark place as his tone changes to a more frantic, unstable one. He holds the microphone by his side and listens to the cheering crowd that almost threatens to blow the roof off the arena as every fan is shouting at the top of their lungs in approval of the idea.

Christum Furor: It sounds like they would love NOTHING more than to see me KILL you Blake, these people that you claim to fight for. They know you have absolutely NO claim to MY championship. The mere fact that you stand in this ring with ME, thinking you’re on MY level is the most heinous of insults. How dare YOU, how dare you come out here Blake and disrespect GOD? Do you know what the punishment for disrespected the ALMIGHTY CREATOR OF EXODUS IS?! It’s simple Blake… it’s damnation… it’s eternal misery… it’s the HAMMER OF DAWN crashing down on YOU, plunging you into OBLIVION!

The two men are now eye to eye, almost forehead to forehead, with Blake not backing down one inch.

Christum Furor: You think you’re the hero of THIS story Blake. Fine. Then I’ll oblige you. I’ll give you this championship match. I’m going to show you how false your beliefs really are, and how unprepared you are for a battle such as THIS. You’re going to realize something Blake… that you’re in over your head, and that you are merely a homosapien… and that I am HOMO SUPERIOR.

Furor suddenly slaps Jones across the face and the crowd immediately boos in response. The madman drops his microphone, his face now a menagerie of hatred and repugnance as he sneers at his potential challenger. Blake stares out into the crowd, hissing his frustration, seething with anger and rage like a pot boiling on the stove. Suddenly, he EXPLODES. He spears the World Champion to the canvas and quickly mounts him before unloading with punch after punch, appearing to have snapped as he takes it to the villainous Michigander.

Dick Morosi: He’s taking it to the World Champion! Look at him go Seth, Blake Jones will not back down!

Seth Ericson: At G&M is just looking on, they don’t know whether to jump in attack him, or let this go down.

Blake Jones leaps up off the World Champion, throwing his arms around frantically as he appears to have lost all control. The crowd is growing wild at everything. They’re going completely wild, cheering ecstatically. He quickly looks over his shoulder at the G&M members on the outside who are completely shocked and unsure of what to do - considering the fact that their fearless leader had specifically asked them not to get involved. They can only watch as Christum Furor is left reeling, and more importantly, in prime position as the “Philly Young Gun” makes his way to the corner and begins climbing, apparently preparing for The Equalizer. Still with some wits about him, Furor quickly rolls out of the ring and regroups with his followers, a look of total disbelief in his face as he was thoroughly bested in the exchange with the man who has officially challenged and guaranteed to be the one to take the World Title off his hands and stop his New Age.

Blake Jones plays to the crowd, then leans over the ropes, pointing at Furor and G&M who retreat up the ramp, figuring out what they’re going to do next.

Seth Ericson: Blake Jones has one upped the champion! I can’t believe it Dick. Blake Jones has taken it to the leader of Gods & Monsters.

Dick Morosi: YES! He does not fear these monsters. He will not back down from these savages. He will not allow them to destroy the company he loves. Blake Jones ladies and gentleman is standing tall. That’s all for EXPRO on FX. See you in two weeks!

As Blake stands in the center of the ring, the audience chanting his name, the scene slowly fades out to the EXODUS logo as the show comes to a close.

We cut backstage once more, at least it seems to be backstage. We are shrouded in darkness, all but for a single ray of light, a single symbol of hope, a single lit candle. The small sight of flame lights up the face of one Andreas Lasiewicz, now dressed in his more traditional ring gear. His hair covers his eyes and he seems to be in silent contemplation. He then raises his head, glaring into the camera.

Andreas Lasiewicz: It has been a trying couple of weeks. A two of weeks of nursing wounds. Two weeks of healing. Two weeks of ameliorating the mental and physical anguish. Two weeks of praying by a bedside, two weeks of wishing for the best. Two weeks of plotting, two weeks of planning, two weeks of looking to the future. In those two weeks, many things have run through my mind. Some of them hopeful, some of them fearful. Some looked towards the light whilst others leaned the opposite way. Some were twisted beyond belief, whilst others… Others I simply cannot mention because you would be fucking terrified…

Lasiewicz lolls his head to one side, his glare piercing the camera.

Andreas Lasiewicz: But I have not simply festered in the darkness, oh no I have not. Those two weeks passed and then I arose like a phoenix. This weekend I have been a very busy man indeed. I took on forty different competitors in GCW’s Civil War match, coming out victorious exactly ten years after my last Civil War victory. I travelled alone, stepping into enemy territory in FGA to take vengeance upon Dan Herrera, and what vengeance I took. And now, tonight in front of the whole world I step forth into that ring against the two founding fathers of the cancerous leech that is trying to feed on this great business, the group known as Gods & Monsters. And whilst tonight I will not be alone… in the coming weeks afterwards it will be a completely different story.

He lifts his left hand, within it is a piece of paper, though the letters upon it are hard to make out.

Andreas Lasiewicz: This in my hands… This tiny piece of paper is a contract. A contract for not just a simple wrestling match, but a contract for a fight. A fight that will occur in San Francisco on the 10th of March. A fight that will right some of the wrongs, a fight that will ease the pain, a fight that will rectify some of the injustices within this business. It is a fight of vengeance, a fight for justice and a fight that will end in the execution of one of the biggest criminals in this sport. Ashe Draven… there is no need for any more messages, there is no need for you to send out pointless, childish tweets. There is no need for empty promises nor idle threats. What you’ve done, what you did was inexcusable. What you did was unforgivable. What you did was unjust, vile, sickening. And on the tenth of March I am dragging you over here. On the tenth of March I will face you in an EXODUS ring. And in a match that has no rules… none at all… Heh… You will see Ashe. This contract is all set. All it needs is your signature.

He puts the contract down before brushing the hair out of his face.

Andreas Lasiewicz: And as for Gods & Monsters. You should pay very close attention. You should pay really close attention. You are going to bear witness to a future that you fear, a future that you fear. As for tonight, tonight I will simply beat you. In two weeks’ time I will spilt you down the middle. And then… and then in one months’ time I will decapitate you… Watch this space.

Andreas blows out the candle and we return to darkness. From this darkness we then return to ringside.

Dick Morosi: Well, it looks like that match is now official. Next week at The Warfield, Andreas Lasiewicz will go one on one with the man that hospitalized Sarah Hartley, that man being ECWF's Ashe Draven. And from the sound of things, that match is going to be 'No Disqualification'. You don't wanna miss that one! But up next, folks, is something I've been looking forward to a long time now, and I don't think I'm the only one.

Seth Ericson: Indeed, Dick. It's the return of #MrEXODUS, Johnny Cannon, from injury, and it couldn't be at a better time. You've got to think the former Tag Team and International Champion would love to work his way into World Championship contention, and that path starts here tonight in San Francisco.

Dick Morosi: And Cannon's not starting back in the shallow end of the pool, either. Seymour Almasy may be coming off of a three match losing streak, but the three men he lost to are Blake Jones, Jimmy Riley, and Ryuji Kamigawa. Seymour asked Jonathan Collins for this bout on Twitter, making it abundantly clear that the Judge Magister wants the best competition EXODUS Pro can throw at him.

Seth Ericson: Almasy's a decade plus veteran. He has the experience edge on Cannon – and is one of the only people in recent memory to hold a victory over our World Champion, Gods & Monsters' own Christum Furor. Both Cannon and Almasy can end a match in seconds, Seymour with a variety of rollups and cradles, Cannon with his calling card roundhouse kick to the head. Both guys need a win here, big-time, and one has to think a win would go a long way towards a Cibernetico spot.

Dick Morosi: It's going to be a pleasant change of pace, too. With Gods & Monsters roaming roughshod, it'll be nice to see two men meeting with no quarrel with each other, fighting for pride and the spirit of competition. Let's go up to ringside, and welcome back Johnny Cannon to EXODUS competition!

SINGLES MATCH
JOHNNY CANNON VS. SEYMOUR ALMASY

David Zinkus stands resplendent in the center of the ring, ready to do his job.

David Zinkus: Ladies and gentlemen, our next contest on E-Pro on FX #12 is a singles match, scheduled for one fall with a thirty minute time limit! Introducing first!

The heroic sounding strains of “Glenn's Theme” by Yatsunori Mitsuda hit the speakers of the RIMAC, as a cloud of white smoke obscured the entryway. Moments later, the only man in wrestling who would use a track off the Chrono Trigger OST stepped through the fog, power-walking his way towards the squared circle.

David Zinkus: On his way to the ring at this time, hailing from the Kingdom of Guardia, he stands five feet eight inches tall, and weighs in at one-hundred seventy-seven pounds, he is the self-proclaimed Judge Magister of EXODUS Pro Wrestling...SEYMOUR ALMASY!

Slapping hands with fans on his way towards the squared circle, the Judge Magister's attention is nonetheless focused on the ring and task at hand. Once he reaches the ring, Almasy slides in under the bottom rope, and readies himself for battle.

Seth Ericson: Almasy looks ready, Dick, but I don't know if he can be ready for the ovation the EXODUS Pro faithful are about to give his opponent tonight.

Dick Morosi: He's been on both sides of the fence. He knows what it's like to be cheered and booed. I think he knows it's going to be a home game tonight for #MrEXODUS, and I think he understands, 100%.

And then, three words that set San Francisco off.

David Zinkus: And, his opponent!

“CANNON! CANNON! CANNON!”

A few moments pass, before the blaring chords of "Supernaut" by Black Sabbath slams into its rhythmic bellow throughout the depths of the arena, inciting an instant, deafening, vociferous reaction from the EXODUS faithful. Suddenly, the arena lights black out with the exception of the few stationed around the entrance tunnel, which begin to flash in unison and fill with sparks in reponse to the opening guitar riff. The crowd's ear-splitting roar of approval for their "hero" seems to grow louder, as the silhouette of the ravishing Englishman emerges behind the lights, prompting David Zinkus to tuck his cue cards in his shirt and begin his introduction.

David Zinkus: Making his way to the ring!

Cannon's form is seen from the shadowy depths from the entrance area, just behind the curtain. Eventually, the Brit makes his ascension onto the entrance stage, pushing his way through the curtain cloth at the top of the ramp, sending yet another shockwave of thundering cheers throughout the crowd. All eyes on the arena fixed on him, Johnny saunters across each side of the stage, while Quinton Goodrich plays to the crowd. The former begins to survey the venue, wearing his black boots, red knee pads, and 'Manchester United' inspired camo trunks, wrist tape on both wrists and his "#JohnnyCannonCelebrationTour" T-shirt. He also wears the face of a man at the peak of his physical prime and the apex of his confidence and conviction.

Dick Morosi: Doesn't look like he's missed a step, does he?

Seth Ericson: He may be in better shape now than he was before his injury! This place has come unglued, folks!

Cannon begins sauntering down the entrance ramp, slapping the hands of excited fans that shove their arms out in his direction. Coming down the middle of the ramp, he slows his pace to a stop, posing on location. He playfully points out a finger gun gesture at the crowd, playing to the patrons before removing his two hundred dollar sunglasses and handing them to one of the kids in the front row.

And all the while, the chant is continuous.

“WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK! WELCOME BACK!”

David Zinkus: Accompanied by Quinn Goodrich, he weighs in tonight at two hundred and forty pounds, and hails from London, England. Making his return to EXODUS Pro competition tonight, this is MISTER EXODUS... JOHNNYYYY CANNON!!!!

Cannon quickly runs up the ring steps and quickly leaps over the ropes with relative ease. Using the momentum from his jump, Johnny spins into the center of the ring before stopping on the drop of a dime, peering outside at the nearest ringside camera. Too cool for school, the world renowned actor and former cagefighter slowly unzips his track jacket, and slides out of it with suaveness before handing his entrance gear to the referee, who then hands it to the nearby ring attendant.



From there Johnny slowly backs into the ropes, hooking his arms back on them before bouncing several times, beginning his mental preparations and prerequisites as Quinn looks on from ringside. He was psyching himself up, hoping to prove to himself, and to the world, that he was the greatest wrestler on planet earth. Now in the corner, he stands, his head lightly resting against the pad as he awaits the start of the match.

Dick Morosi: There's a buzz in the building tonight, folks. I've got a feeling this is gonna be a damned good one.

Cannon returns from the corner, to find Almasy standing mid-ring. After a few last minute instructions from the official, she nods to both men, who nod right back, and she signals for the bell to get the contest started.

DING DING DING!

Neither man moves at the bell, as if anticipating the other to go first. Slowly, they circle, before leaning into an aggressive collar and elbow tieup. The larger Cannon wins the battle, pushing Almasy back into a neutral corner with relative ease. The official calls for the clean break, and gets it.

At least, initially he does, before Cannon boxes Seymour's ear with an open-handed palm strike. After that, the break is clean, with Johnny returning to center ring, a smirk on his face.

Seth Ericson: Whoa! Didn't see that coming! I thought for sure we'd get the clean break, but the returning Cannon had other ideas.

Also not seeing it coming was Almasy, who looked grimly at the confident Cannon standing center ring. The Judge Magister rubbed at his ear, and jogged back to center ring.

Dick Morosi: Almasy's seen every dirty trick you can think of more times than most in this sport, so I don't think he's surprised by much – though I do agree that I think he thought Cannon was going to give him the break there.

Seymour cocks his head, giving a quizzical look to Cannon, who merely smirks and offers another collar and elbow tieup. Almasy wants no part of it, quickly executing a go-behind for a rear waistlock on Cannon, using his leverage to push the surprised Cannon into the nearby corner. Once again, the official is there, asking for the clean break.

This time, he gets it, with Seymour backing up and taking center ring. Cannon, though, doesn't look particularly pleased, clean break or not.

Seth Ericson: I think Cannon's a tough matchup for Almasy. Seymour has had problems in the past with technicians. He can't outwrestle Cannon, so he's going to have to use his speed and go to the air – but that opens him up to Cannon's one-shot knockout power.

Dick Morosi: I agree, but Almasy's the sort of athlete who, a decade into his career, always has a plan in mind.

Cannon comes out of the corner and scores with a kick to Almasy's ribcage. Two more follow, and Cannon quickly and aggressively grabs the doubled over Seymour, twisting him around into a Hangman's neckbreaker, jolting the neck on his shoulder. With Almasy down and hurt, Cannon smirks again...and promptly places his boot across Almasy's throat, pushing down to the astonishment of many in the crowd.

The official hits “four” by the time Cannon breaks, and delivers a half-hearted kick to Almasy's head. Johnny picks Seymour up, and promptly welcomes him back to semi-coherence with a big European uppercut.

Seth Ericson: Cannon's aggressive tonight, folks! I like it! That's the one thing he's been missing all this time, a bonafide mean streak.

Cannon quickly hooks a hammerlock, and then a front facelock, using the double grip to drive Almasy face-first into the mat with a picture-perfect DDT. Sitting up, Cannon gestures to the crowd, many of whom give him the kudos he's looking for, before rolling Almasy over and going for what could best be called a fairly lacksidaisical cover.

ONE!

KICKOUT!

Dick Morosi: This is...I'm not used to this, at all. I don't want to get into the head of a a competitor, but Johnny Cannon isn't...showing Almasy a Hell of a lot of respect right now, in my opinion.

Seth Ericson: He's spent MONTHS on the shelf! Doesn't want to wait. He wants to make up for lost time!

Almasy begins to try to get back up, to hands and knees, only to EAT a Cannon soccer kick to the ribcage. He backs up and delivers a second, bowing to the capacity crowd, before backing up one more time.

With a big running head-start, Cannon delivers a third punt to the ribs, only to noticeably wince after delivering the blow. Johnny shakes out his right foot, and reaches down, hobbling a bit in the process as he picks Seymour Almasy back up.

Dick Morosi: A little gimpy there on the part of Cannon. Might have jammed that ankle when he kicked Seymour in the ribs.

Grabbing Almasy by the wrist, he pulls Seymour into a quick short-arm lariat that sends Almasy right back down to the mat. Cannon goes down as well, with a slightly more proper cover, but still no hooked leg.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Cannon immediately yanks Seymour up by the hair after the kickout. Reaching under Almasy's armpits, he boosted the lighter Almasy in the air, moving to kick him on the way down, completing the Cardiac Arrest! Seymour collapses after the blow, with Cannon again wincing – another impact on his tweaked ankle making him groan.

Seth Ericson: Cannon's been in firm control of this thing from the word go. I think this more aggressive vintage has Almasy all out of sorts.

Dick Morosi: You may be right, but Cannon's ankle seems to be giving him problems...

Johnny Cannon gives a broad smile, beginning to circle around his downed foe, the end seemingly in sight.

Dick Morosi: Cannon circling the Judge Magister here, waiting to deliver his coup de grace! I can't agree with some of Cannon's tactics tonight, but his arrogance aside, he's put on an excellent performance.

Cannon points to Almasy's head, hand cocked like an imaginary gun, and pulls the trigger. Rounding Almasy, he stops in front of the Final Fantasy, and strikes, angling his kick with precision to aim for the temple of his opponent, looking for the clean one-strike high kick knockout.

The problem, of course, is that tourists on Fisherman's Wharf could have seen the move coming, what with Cannon's twenty-five second prelude performance.

Seymour catches the kick, barring the ankle neatly in the process, and yanks, hard, off-balancing Cannon, forcing him to his stomach in the center of the ring as Seymour twists, seguing his bar into a perfect anklelock, cranking on it as hard as he can manage.

Seth Ericson: Cannon got caught!

Dick Morosi: Damn right he did! You CAN'T give someone like Almasy that much time! You just can't! And now, Almasy's got a hold of that ankle Cannon jammed early in the contest!

The pain is etched on Cannon's face as he crawls on his hands, trying to use his superior size to get to the ropes, but Seymour pulls Cannon back quickly from his first attempt. A second, lunging to the right, nearly gets there, but Almasy once again drags Cannon back bodily to center ring.

Seth Ericson: Seymour's had the anklelock on almost thirty seconds! Cannon needs to get out, and he needs to get out now, before Almasy can drop down and trap the leg!

The third lunge finally gets there, as Johnny Cannon's size is too much for Almasy to hold back. The official begins his count, and Seymour breaks immediately, leaving Johnny to survey the damage.

The initial results aren't good, an expletive leaking from Cannon's mouth as he pulls himself to his feet, using the ropes. Limping a bit, Cannon soon sees Almasy charging towards him. As he covers up, though, Almasy drops low, baseball sliding out to the floor, and hooking Cannon's ankle in the process, dropping him face-first to the canvas, and leaving Seymour in control of the leg while standing on the floor.

Dick Morosi: Johnny Cannon had this match, folks! He had Seymour Almasy in a bad, BAD way! If he'd have pulled the trigger on that kick, this match might well be over, but he let Seymour back in the fight, and now, he's in trouble. BIG trouble!

Seymour raises Cannon's ankle in the air, and rams it down against the apron, the hardest part of the ring. He repeats the move once more, before leaving the exposed ankle on the ring apron. Hopping up to the apron himself, Seymour takes three quick steps before leaping, dropping his knee on Johnny Cannon's ankle and earning a scream from Cannon (as well as several comely proponents of the Cannon Comeback in the front row).

Seth Ericson: He's got to get Almasy off of him. And if he does he has to get back on Seymour, and not let him go for the ankle again. Seymour's trying to take the Roundhouse Kick away from him, but really folks, this afffects ANYTHING Cannon wants to do in the ring. Just think about how much a sprained ankle hurts – now imagine trying to wrestle on that, with a guy actively trying to do MORE damage to the injured body part!

Climbing back into the ring, Almasy grabs hold of the wounded ankle, and begins dragging the larger Cannon back to the center. Johnny reaches up with his good leg and TAGS Seymour with a kick to the chest. A second forces Seymour to relinquish the leg, and Cannon sits up, making his way to his knees.

Seymour bends down to greet him, but Johnny jacks his jaw with a fierce European uppercut, snapping Seymour's head back and giving Cannon time to get back up, hobbling, putting as much of his weight on his good leg as possible before lunging into a second European uppercut.

Dick Morosi: Cannon's got educated fists and elbows too, folks. Just taking away Cannon's most noted weapon isn't going to be enough to keep a striker like Mr. EXODUS from plying his trade.

The third European uppercut is thrown with malice, and it drops Almasy like a shot. Grimacing as the blow adds a jolt to his ankle, Cannon nonetheless manages to pose for his fans, some returning the favor with an ovation, but a growing number simply confused at the man before them.

Cannon locks on a cravate, looking to segue the move into further damage to his opponent, but Seymour lashes out with precision, driving his left foot back, at an angle, into Cannon's ankle. The blow forces Johnny to relinquish his cravate. Seymour spins, to kick the ankle again, a more forceful blow that buckles Cannon down to one knee.

Quick as a flash, Almasy lunges into a short Shining Wizard, his knee catching Mr. EXODUS on the butt of the jaw. Recovering position, Seymour throws himself into a cover, cinching the leg deep.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Seth Ericson: Two, and only two, but the ankle is proving itself a SERIOUS problem for Cannon here!

With Cannon on the canvas, Seymour steps out to the ring apron, quickly ascending to the top rope. As soon as Cannon is wobbling to his feet, Seymour leaps, crushing Johnny with a layout missile dropkick, both boots catching the former two-time International Champion flush in the face.

Seymour, again, is quick to the cover, hooking Cannon's leg as soon as possible.

ONE!


TWO!


THR-NO! SHOULDER UP!

Dick Morosi: Almasy doing the exact opposite of Cannon in this contest! He's going for covers! He's not stopping to pose, and it's an approach that's paying dividends.

Desperation lights on the proud face of Johnny Cannon as he grabs at Almasy, leaning on the smaller man to help pull himself back up. Seymour hooks on a Thai clinch, hands on the back of Cannon's neck, and promptly batters him with knees to the body and face. After four such blows, Almasy releases the plum, backs off, and spins, looking to take Cannon's head off with a rolling elbow that, well, never quite makes it there.

CRACK!

Seth Ericson: CANNON CAUGHT HIM! INSTEP TO THE CHIN, AND THAT'S ALL, FOLKS!

Indeed, the Judge Magister's spin ended just in time to EAT Cannon's signature roundhouse kick to the face. A loud scream of pain from Cannon himself was the only thing to rival the sound of impact, as Almasy's body tottered backwards and down, landing amidst the ring ropes, and finally falling out to the floor from impact

Dick Morosi: He caught him on the button, but Almasy's out on the floor! Cannon has to get himself together and get Seymour Almasy back in the ring, but he's got to do it after throwing what could be the last kick he can muster on that busted ankle!

Pain is written all over Mr. EXODUS' face. Gingerly, he gets back up, hobbling around on one foot. He looks down at Seymour on the floor, and begins to step over towards the ropes...only to shake that thought off, and hobble his way over to the corner. Using it as a sort of hammock, Cannon lays up in the corner, clearly content to let the official register a count of ten.

Seth Ericson: Smart here by Cannon, I think. He's got Almasy knocked out! Take the countout and get out of here!

Dick Morosi: This is...just not the Johnny Cannon I know. If he could get Almasy back in, he'd need three, not ten.

Seth Ericson: So? He knocked the guy out! It's over! In EXODUS, you have to take your wins how you can get them. Weren't you just criticizing him for not going for the win earlier?

The count is on, as the official reaches one, two, and three with no movement from the Final Fantasy on the floor. By the time four and five are reached, for the first time tonight, a chant in favor of Seymour begins to ring through San Francisco.

“LET'S GO SEY-MOUR! *clap clap clapclapclap*
“LET'S GO SEY-MOUR! *clap clap clapclapclap*
“LET'S GO SEY-MOUR! *clap clap clapclapclap*

“SIX!”

The Judge Magister stirs at the six count, woozy, trying to shake out the cobwebs.

“SEVEN!”

Dick Morosi: Giving Seymour a count of ten to recover from ANYTHING isn't a good plan, as far as I'm concerned!

Seth Ericson: Don't count your chickens just yet! He's not back in!

“EIGHT!”

To his knees Seymour surges. Cannon sees it, and immediately hops down from the corner, wincing as he does so.

“NINE!”

With one final burst of adrenaline, Seymour dives in under the bottom rope, breaking the count to a roar from the EXODUS faithful. The bout will continue, and perhaps the only person not happy about that is one Johnny Cannon, who picks Seymour up by the scruff of the neck, throws him back into the nearest corner, and promptly LIGHTS him up with a vicious European uppercut!

Dick Morosi: He IS back in, but Cannon seems hellbent on making him wish that he wasn't!

Three more uppercuts follow in rapid succession as Cannon pours on the pressure, not letting up until the official has to bodily pull at Mr. EXODUS to get him off of Almasy. With a cocky grin on his face, Cannon finally relents, only to charge from halfway across the ring and cream Seymour in the corner with a vicious running boot to the face! Seymour slumps out of the corner, and Cannon drops down to cover, placing both hands on the chest.

ONE!

TWO!

THR—NO! KICKOUT!

Cannon grits his teeth, and cinches the leg aggressively this time for a second cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THR-NO! SHOULDER UP!

Seth Ericson: This is what he's got to do! Pour the pressure on! Cave Seymour's skull in, and don't don't don't give Almasy a chance to rest.

Almasy rolls to his stomach to try and prevent any further covers, but a shrugging Cannon smiles out to the crowd, and waistlocks Seymour from behind. The superior strength of Cannon, even hampered by a gimpy ankle, allows him to hoist Seymour up, rolling backwards. It looks like the standard reverse rollup (enough so that the official even drops to count), but Mr. EXODUS' intentions are soon made clear as he rolls all the way through and elevates Seymour, looking to German suplex him out of the backwards roll!

Dick Morosi: One of Cannon's specialties, on the way!

Seymour has other plans, firing a sharp back elbow into Cannon's face at the apex of the lift. Another one further disorients Cannon, and Seymour rolls down and forward, grabbing hold of Johnny's leg in the process, picking it neatly and rolling through to his feet, the anklelock once again locked in on Mr. EXODUS!

Seth Ericson: No way!

Dick Morosi: Almasy's back on that ankle! Cannon can't forget about it for a second! Any opening Seymour gets, he's going to go back to the anklelock!

Cannon begins immediately crawling for the ropes, but Seymour drops down, quickly grapevining the leg, and ensuring that Johnny will have to drag Seymour's entire body weight in his effort to reach safety.

Seth Ericson: Come on, Johnny! You can do it! You have to!

Almasy cinches deeper, torquing the ankle with all he has as Cannon crawls on his forearms for the ropes. Seymour only tightens the lock, and Cannon SCREAMS in pain, one of his hands making its way into his mouth, biting down on it to transfer the pain ad he crawls, and crawls, reaching out and finally draping his other arm over the bottom rope. Once again, Seymour immediately releases, but it's clear that the ankle is in a bad way.

Dick Morosi: Almasy's going to take this damned ankle home with him if Cannon isn't careful! He's had it on twice, and Cannon's mobility has to be near shot!

The ring ropes help Cannon to his feet, as Seymour watches, only to promptly sweep out Cannon's bad ankle, sending him crashing back to the mat. The Cannon fans in the crowd disapprove, while the growing legion of Seymour supporters see it as turnabout being fair play. Whatever the case, Cannon slowly begins to pull himself again, only to lunge in Seymour's direction with a sudden European uppercut....that Almasy promptly sidesteps and counters by kicking Cannon dead solid in the chest as hard as he can. The breath leaves Cannon's lungs on a whoosh, and he falls face-first to the canvas.

Seymour rolls Cannon to his back, and makes his way out to the ring apron, both hands grabbing the top strand.

Seth Ericson: This is how he polished off Cthulhu Jones, finally! That springboarding Swanton bomb!

Dick Morosi: He calls it the Luminaire, and if it hits, I think the Cannon Comeback's going to hit its first big snag!

Seymour leaps to the top rope as flashbulbs go off, before flipping towards Cannon at terminal velocity. He lands hard across Cannon's chest, reaching back to hook a leg, cinching it as deep as he can.

Seth Ericson: That's...that's got to be all!

ONE!



TWO!



THRE—NO! KICKOUT BY JOHNNY CANNON!

Seymour gives a quizzical look to the referee, but no – the official still holds up two fingers, meaning this match will continue.

Dick Morosi: Cannon survives the Luminaire! Mr. EXODUS digs down deep to keep in this contest, but this thing is ALL Seymour Almasy right now!

Seth Ericson: I still don't know how the Hell he's in this after getting beaten from pillar to post by Cannon in the opening five minutes of this match, Dick.

Morosi, of course, replies with “something something don't take eight years to do a move something,” as Seymour pulls Cannon back to his feet. Cinching in a double-underhook, it seems his Illumina DDT is in the cards, only for Cannon to surge, scoring with a big Northern Lights Suplex!

ONE!


TWO!


THR—NO! THE BRIDGE FALLS APART!

Dick Morosi: Cannon couldn't hold the bridge with the bad ankle! So close! So, SO close!

A roar erupts from deep within Johnny Cannon, either anger, frustration, or both as he grabs Seymour by the hair to pick him up. With Almasy standing, Cannon lets out another primal yell, before CLOBBERING him with a discus European uppercut!

This time, there's no arrogant cover, Cannon dropping to the mat immediately to go for the pin.

ONE!


TWO!


THR—NO! SHOULDER UP AT THE DEATH!

Seth Ericson: Johnny Cannon will throw the entire arsenal at Almasy if he has to! This is the most important match of his career! He's got to show he's still got it!

Dick Morosi: He HAS been showing that, but he's also, in my eyes, been showing some bad habits that he picked up somewhere along the way.

Cannon slashes a thumb across his throat, and picks Seymour back up off the canvas. A front facelock and a single underhook are hooked on, and Johnny elevates, swiftly driving Seymour head-first into the mat.

Seth Ericson: CANNON DRIVER II!

Cannon shoots the half, going for the cover once again.

ONE!



TWO!




THR—NO!

Dick Morosi: Dear God, the Hell's it going to take to win this thing?!

Cannon looks down in near-astonishment at the Judge Magister, but shakes his head. Once again, Cannon slashes his thumb across his throat, gesturing to his wounded ankle.

Seth Ericson: I don't know if that's smart, Johnny! You've got other weapons! I know it's a point of pride, but--!!

As Cannon poses and postures, though, the hurt Seymour Almasy manages to reach over and grab his ankle! Johnny goes down, soon trapped once again in Seymour's anklelock, Almasy rising to his feet to increase the leverage he can put on it.

Dick Morosi: Back to the anklelock! Cannon gave him a second, and Seymour grabbed it!

This time, though, Cannon is ready, and rolls to his back, keeping one shoulder off the mat, poised to kick off and break the submission.

The only problem with THAT is Seymour releases the anklelock, grabs the other leg, and flips over with a bridging pin!

Seth Ericson: It was a feint!

ONE!



TWO!






THREEEEEE-SHOULDER!

Dick Morosi How close was that?! Dear Lord! Cannon got his shoulder up with a tenth of a second to spare!

Seth Ericson: Almasy's taken so much punishment, though! He's in an even worse way than Cannon, I think, and that might have been the last gasp!

Cannon is to his feet, hobbling, but faster than Almasy can recover. As Seymour pulls himself back up, grimly, he is greeted with a VICIOUS slap to the face by Cannon. “Ooh!”s ring out in San Francisco as Cannon follows with a second, to the opposite side of the face. Cannon elbows him in the jaw, and spins to clobber him with a discus forearm to the face.

Dick Morosi: The Clockwork Orange! Usually he concludes it with a running boot to the face, but I think tonight discretion might be the better part of valor.

Cannon seems to agree, hooking Seymour in a front facelock, then hooking the leg, the Cannon Driver on the cards, only for Seymour to roll backwards, capturing Johnny Cannon in his own small package!

ONE!



TWO!



THR—NO! CANNON ROLLS BACK!

Indeed, the movie star manages to roll backwards, getting his feet under him. With Herculean effort, and his ankle in agony, Cannon lifts Seymour up, in perfect position, before falling back, trapping Seymour's leg with his own, and SPIKING the Judge Magister on the crown of his head!

Seth Ericson: CANNON GOT IT! Almasy almost stole it from him, just like he did Gunner, but Cannon managed to roll through and hit the Cannon Driver!

Cannon holds the position for the pin, agony etched on his face as the official drops down to count.

ONE!



TWO!




THREE!

Dick Morosi: Huge win for Johnny Cannon in his return, and one HELL of contest by both men!

The front row rises to its feet following the fall, and pockets of fans everywhere follow, as the official raises an exhausted Cannon's hand in the air, both competitors spent from the bout.

David Zinkus: The time of the fall is twenty-one minutes, four seconds! Your winner....MISTER EXODUS...JOHHNNNYYYY CAANNNNOOOOONNNN!

Cannon sits up, both arms raised triumphantly. The crowd applauds both men's efforts, though there is a tiny but noticeable smattering of boos for Cannon's tactics during the contest.

Seth Ericson: We've seen an aggressive, meaner Cannon tonight, and it paid dividends against a tough Seymour Almasy tonight.

Dick Morosi: Almasy's fourth straight loss in EXODUS, but after a performance like that, it's hard to fault him. Folks, we've got to pay some bills, but we'll be right back with more FX action!

As the scene goes to commercial, EXODUS' training staff hits the ring, to tend to both men.

WINNER: JOHNNY CANNON

As the show comes back from a commercial break, the cameras find themselves in a somewhat secluded corner of the backstage area, away from the hustle and bustle that comes with producing a wrestling show. The cameras spot a solitary figure perched on the edge of an empty trunk. Upon further investigation, the figure is revealed to be none other than EXODUS wrestler Angela Jameson. Dressed in a pair of dark blue denim skinny jeans tucked into a pair of black suede knee high heeled boots and a black deep V neck t-shirt, she sits with her hands resting behind her and her head bowed slightly, causing her black tresses to hide her face.

Angela Jameson: Sixteen years. That is how long I have been in this business. In these sixteen years, I’ve seen just about everything there is to see, done everything that there is to do. In these sixteen years, I have seen action in a variety of companies, some good and some that have left a permanent bad taste in my mouth. But in each of these companies, one thing has remained constant. I have fought and clawed my way to the top and once I got there, no one could knock me down. Oh they tried, but they all failed.

The Fallen Angel says with a slight chuckle as she raises her head up, revealing her blue eyes covered by a pair of black Prada sunglasses.

Angela Jameson: No one could take the crown from the Queen. Now that I’m here in EXODUS, I fully intend on starting down the same path to dominance. Will it be easy? I’m a realist. With the level of competition here, it won’t be easy. I’m not going to beat around the bush here. I came here mainly because my friend Jonathan Collins needed me. He needed someone like me to help him take the fight to Jerry Matthews and vermin like him. I came here not only as a favor to a friend, but I enjoy a challenge.

She reaches up and takes her sunglasses off and perches them on top of her head. Pursing her lips together, she slides off of the trunk and places her hands on her hips.

Angela Jameson: Speaking of challenges, I can see the hype growing around the upcoming Brightest Day Cibernetico. I don’t care who else may be named to this thing. I’m here to say that I want in. I want this chance to become World Champion again in my career. I am willing to do any and everything to get that goal. It doesn’t matter which team I’m on. The fact remains if you put me in this Cibernetico; there is a good chance I will win. Arrogance? Possibly. Confidence? You’re damn right. Jonathan, Nicholas, don’t make me beg. Don’t make me plead. You want this to be the most talked about match of the year? You want this to change the face of EXODUS? Put me in it. Trust me when I say that you haven’t even BEGUN to see the best of me. I don’t care how I get in or who I have to beat to get in. The fact remains that I want in. Jonathan, Nicholas, the ball is in your court, gentlemen.

Angela finishes her statement with authority as she turns and walks off down the hallway. The scene then switches out to the arena.

Dick Morosi: Angela Jameson has made her point! She put it out there for the world to hear tonight, she wants in the Brightest Day Cibernetico!

Seth Ericson: The scary part is that we haven't seen the best of her yet. She's got points to make, and considering how upset she's got to be over being left off tonight's show and narrowly beating Dan Herrera two weeks ago.

Dick Morosi: And that's why I'm sure she'll be top notch in two weeks. And if you want to see top notch, we've got the semifinals of the San Diego Bay Title Tournament tonight! It's match one, where Spirit Z meets Lexy Chapel, and it's next!

SINGLES MATCH (San Diego Bay Title Tournament)
LEXY CHAPEL VS. SPIRIT Z

David Zinkus: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Brooklyn, New York - he weighs in tonight at two hundred and twenty-five pounds. This is SPIRIT Z!

"Get The Fuck Up!" by Yelawolf comes on. Spirit Z jogs out to the stage, and throws his arms in the air for everyone to stand up. As they all stand up, he walks towards the ring. He shakes a few hands a long the way. He then gets to the steps. He walks up the steps, brushes his feet off the apron (out of respect). He then grabs the ropes and jumps over it landing in the ring. He then goes to the turnbuckle to get ready for the match.

Seth Ericson: Z has a good chance to get himself into the San Diego Bay Title picture tonight. All he’s gotta do is take care of one social media-goer.

Dick Morosi: Which is no easy task. The girl’s been on fire since the first moment she steppe into EXODUS.

As the spotlights flash across the stage and the video screens come to life, “Cynics and Critics” by Icon For Hire hits the PA system.

David Zinkus: And his opponent, from North London, England… she is Lexy! CHAPEL!



As the music continues blaring, Lexy Chapel walks out on to the stage carrying with her a camera-phone. She walks to the left of the stage, filming the fans cheering, and then to the right of the stage, filming more fans cheering wildly before turning the camera around on herself and can be seen mouthing the word 'wow' in to the camera. After listening to the crowd reaction a moment longer she spins around and poses on the stage.



As the music continues to play she begins to make her way down to the ring, filming the fans as she walks past them and posing with a few of them, holding the camera out in front of herself as she leans back in to a group of the fans. As the chorus of the song begins she slides in to the ring and climbs up on to the turnbuckles, filming the fans again with her phone.

“Oh this is all we know
Oh tragic and miserable
We’re not cynics; we just don’t believe a word you say
We’re not critics, we just hate it all anyway
Oh this is all we’ve got
Oh we do what we’ve been taught
We’re not cynics; we just don’t believe a word you say
We’re not critics, we just hate it all anyway”

She leaps down from the turnbuckles and walks to the middle of the ring before spinning around and turning the phone back on herself again, kissing the lens of the camera and then putting it in to her pocket. She removes her ring jacket and slips it in to her former before jumping back on to the turnbuckles again and posing, then flipping off backwards and standing in her corner, readying herself for the start of the contest.

Dick Morosi: This has all the makings of a memorable contest. Lexy Chapel brings her high octane, high risk style into his contest against a seasoned veteran in Spirit Z. Both competitors have San Diego Bay title aspirations and are coming off impressive victories.

Seth Ericson: Yeah well, somebody’s about to go home sad Dick, and if it’s Lexy I doubt she’ll be tweeting about it. And that’s the bell, Dick.

Lexy, eager to fight despite her opponent being seven inches taller and one hundred and eleven pounds heavier, lashes out her arms and locks them with Z’s in a collar and elbow tie before pushing her foe into the ropes. Chapel pulls Spirit off said cables and quickly strikes him in the stomach with her knee, doubling him over for a moment before she connects with a clubbing blow to his upper back. Spirit is hurt but remains on his feet, merely staggering as Lexy loads up her arm for a punch - her fist protrudes but is captured, and the artful technician counters as he twists the Englishwoman’s arm whilst stepping to her side to viciously thrust his shoulder blade into her ribs. He follows up by jerking her arm down, awkwardly pulling her right shoulder before maneuvering behind her whilst twisting his foe’s captive limb some more. Thinking quickly, Lexy reaches back to pull him down with a Snapmare which she floats over into a grounded headlock - only for Z to counter with a headscissors. Chapel doesn’t panic in spite of her perilous predicament, rather she contorts her body, shifting off her back to roll onto her front. From there she hands stand out of the submission hold and leaps into the air, jutting her legs out to connect with a nice Dropkick that tarnishes the veteran’s face. Following the impressive counter, she immediately goes for the pin.

“ONE!”

That’s all she gets as Z jerks his shoulders up and then rolls backward whilst throwing his left leg up to make his shin smash Lexy in the temple, knocking her off his frame upon him getting to a vertical base. Now back in control, the New Yorker begins to stomp a mudhole in his young adversary, kicking her relentlessly in her lower stomach. In pain, Lexy sits up to ease the agony, but more is inflicted as Spirit attacks with a stiff kick to the chest. The shot reverberates throughout the arena as Chapel pants, her chest heaving due to the wind being literally knocked out of her. The “Big Apple” resident clutches the second generation star by the collar and pulls her up to a vertical base, only to deliver a European Uppercut. The young, undefeated diva staggers back into the ropes, but Z continues his onslaught, scoring with two more uppercuts, along with a series of forearms strikes thrown in for good measure before he Irish Whips her into the ropes opposite him. Lexy runs the ropes and rebounds toward Spirit, who catches the Featherweight in a Tilt-A-Whirl, then brings her back down and bends her over his raised knee. While Lexy writhes in pain, the New Yorker rolls back to one knee, visibly tired already in spite of the contest only being in it’s beginning stages. Hoping to end the bout early, he hooks her leg as the ref counts.

Seth Ericson: Spirit Z connects with that vicious Backbreaker! That could do it right there Dick.

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

Dick Morosi: Z hoped to put Lexy away early, but that doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen. Lexy has something to prove tonight, Seth.

Seth Ericson: Hey Dick, does Z look a little gassed to you? He’s looking real slow out there tonight. It’s all those goddamn pizzas he eats.

Dick Morosi: I won't question the man's eating habits or conditioning, Dick. But I will say that being in the ring with someone as fast and agile as Lexy must be tiring.

Lexy sits up, holding her back which is visibly in pain. Spirit pulls her up to her feet then strikes her in the breadbasket with a knee. As she doubles over he maneuvers behind her, then reaches forward to apply a Full Nelson before dragging her off her feet to slam her into the canvas with an authoritative Bridging Dragon Suplex. Back on his feet, Z grabs the dazed Chapel by the head and pulls her up to her feet before reaching down and scooping her up between the legs - only for the tenacious diva to wrap her legs around his head and pull him down with a headscissors takedown that rolls Spirit forward onto the mat. Chapel immediately scrambles to her feet, followed by Z who is a bit slower, and lethargic. She charges for the ropes, and rebounds to dodge a Clothesline attempt, then pushes forward to the opposite set of cables. On her return trip she avoids a second Clothesline, then dashes for the ropes once more before leaping onto the second cable. She leaps back gracefully, then arches her body in mid-air in the most dexterous, agile fashion to crash into the two hundred pounder with a Diving Crossbody block. With Z’s shoulders pinned down the ref slides into position to make the count.

“ONE!”

‘“TWO!”

Showing his resolve and intelligence, the New Yorker rolls back, and while Chapel in his clutches he climbs up to a vertical base. As if transporting deadweight, he flings her up onto his shoulders like a ragdoll then brings her down with a Rolling Fireman’s Carry Slam, dropping his entire weight across her frail frame. Exploiting his momentum from the slam, Spirit returns to a stand and stumbles into the corner. With Lexy sprawling on the canvas, he slowly begins to ascend the corner. Having gradually ascended the ropes, the New Yorker stands tall, his eyes scanning the capacity crowd before they shut, followed by a deep breath and a silent prayer. He leaps back, cutting through the air like a falling star, bringing the crowd to their feet as they look on with enthusiasm and anticipation. The suicidal leap of faith proves to be his plight, as Chapel has enough wherewithal to roll her beaten, bruised frame off the canvas to avoid catastrophe.

Seth Ericson: HE MISSED!

Dick Morosi: But he lands on his feet! What cat like reflexes!

Indeed Z lands on his twos, lucky enough to still be intact in spite of the Moonsault being thwarted. He lurches back a bit, then drops down to a knee, holding his chest as he beings to somewhat hyperventilate. He looks totally exhausted, totally enervated - either due to poor conditioning or some health reason. Regardless, he pushes on with his campaign, and albeit frustrated by his young foe’s resiliency, he is certainly enraptured by her overall competitiveness. On his feet, he eyes Lexy as she pulls herself up in the corner, then charges in but only to be turned away by a back elbow. He shakes off the cobwebs, regathering his bearings which were scattered due to the impact from the blow to his cranium; tenacious in his own right, he charges back in. Chapel will not allow him to get the best of her, as she pulls herself up between the middle and top ropes, then tugs on the latter to swings herself up to blast Z in the face once again. The innovative counter sends the wily veteran staggering back into the center of the ring, his vision dizzied and his mind clouded due to the wave of pain numbing his countenance.

Now on the apron, Lexy stares into the ring at Z whose stature has been reduced to one knee, his head leaning down as sweat cascades from his face in a rather profuse fashion. He is clearly winded - his fatigue is just the negative cherry on top of the cake of agony he’s been served, YET he refuses to give in to his physical condition. However reality is a tough pill to swallow, and the reality of the matter is that the young second generation star had now leapt onto the top rope and was springboarding right toward him. She glides through the electrified atmosphere, then vigorously swings her leg; her foot burrows and clashes into the sweaty, pain ridden face of Spirit Z, knocking him off his feet upon impact, flattening him.

Dick Morosi: Dental Check! Look at all those teeth in the ring. What a Springboard Roundhouse, Seth!

Seth Ericson: I just tweeted, vined, and instagramed that! That’s called the holy grail, Dick!

With Z seemingly unconscious, Lexy staggers back to her feet and stumbles into the corner. Fueled by adrenaline, she channels her energy to climb the top turnbuckle. Lexy stands at the top of the mountain with her body hunkering down, looking as if she’s preparing the Social Distortion. Suddenly, Chapel takes to the sky, performing a one eighty degree rotating before plummeting down to the ring like a comet crashing into the earth, performing a brilliant, perfectly executed 450 Splash. She lands directly across Z’s inanimate body, the arena cheering and applauding in response to the incredible aerial maneuver.

Seth Ericson: SOCIAL DISTORTION, and social media is about to break with that one!

Dick Morosi: Lexy Chapel with another gutty display, finished with fantastic move that I just can’t get enough of!

Lexy quickly applies a lateral press, all fans in attendance awaiting the inevitable three count. The referee slides down to make the count, whipping his arm to the canvas as the crowd chants along.

“ONE!”

“TWO!”

“THREE!”

WINNER: LEXY CHAPEL

Dick Morosi: DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES?! LEXY CHAPEL JUST PICKED UP A MASSIVE VICTORY AND IS GOING TO THE FINALS ON IPAY PER VIEW!

Seth Ericson: This is huge! From tag matches against scrubs to a title match on iPPV in just a few short weeks! Lexy Chapel has proven that she's a one woman wrecking crew!

Dick Morosi: You gotta hand it to Spirit Z, he gave it his all, but tonight belongs to The Chapel Show! Let's head to Tom Matheny, standing by with Lexy Chapel!

Lexy rolls out of the ring as “Cynics and Critics” by Icon For Hire continues to blast around the arena. She leans on the apron for a moment, holding her midsection before throwing her arms in the air as the crowd cheers. She smiles, walking over to the fans at ringside and slapping a few hands and then beginning to make her way up the ramp. The fans pop again while she’s about half way up the ramp and she turns back to them and holds her arms up again before grabbing her midsection, in a bit of pain from the match. She waves at the fans and as she turns around we see Tom Matheny walking down the ramp behind her with a microphone in hand. She looks at him oddly as he walks up to her, holding the microphone, as the music dies down.

Tom Matheny: Lexy Chapel, can I get your thoughts? First of all, congratulations on the win tonight!

Lexy just smiles.

Lexy Chapel: Thank you.

Tom Matheny: So, now let me ask you the question that’s on the minds of everyone here tonight. You debuted here just under two months ago, and now you’ve cemented your place at the next iPPV. How does it feel to go from a dark match to a championship match on Pay-Per-View?

Lexy just looks around as the fans pop for the noting of how far she’s come in the last few months. She smiles as she turns back to Tom again.

Lexy Chapel: I think... I mean, it’s hard to put in to words, but I think these people put it best because when I think about that, all I want to do is scream and cheer at the top of my lungs as well!

The fans cheer and Lexy just smiles at them all.

Lexy Chapel: I came here with hope. I came here with a dream to do what nobody in my family had EVER done before. You guys know I come from a wrestling family back home in England, right? I was born in to this business, it’s in my blood and it always has been. My father was a legend back home, my mother was as well. My mother is one of the toughest women in the world, and a true role model for me growing up about what I could be as a woman. I didn’t watch princesses growing up and want to be one of them, I watched WRESTLING and I said to everyone who’d listen that I want to be THAT!

The fans cheer again as Lexy nods her head.

Lexy Chapel: It’s true, I did. While I was growing up I used to watch so much wrestling, but American wrestling shows were on live in the United Kingdom, at 1am in the morning, and my parents would always send me to bed and I’d always lay in bed awake, waiting for my chance to sneak back downstairs again and put the TV on and watch my heroes. I used to sneak down and watch guys like Jonathan Collins wrestling for the biggest championships in this business, and it didn’t matter how many times my parents caught me or how many times they told me I wasn’t to do it again, I HAD to watch. I idolised those wrestlers, and one day I swore I’d get in the ring and be just like them and compete in front of people JUST LIKE YOU!

The fans cheer again as Lexy spins around, pointing at the fans and at the arena.

Lexy Chapel: I promised myself I’d compete in arenas JUST LIKE THIS!

The fans cheer again.

Lexy Chapel: And here I am, and you’re right, I went to Japan to compete and I did so with pride, I did so to prove I could fight, and I went there knowing I was booked on the pre-show, booked in a dark match, booked SO CLOSE to the huge pay per view and yet also SO FAR from it, and every moment I was out in that ring I had this amazing mix of feelings, both of pure excitement to be there in Japan and absolute heartbreak that I was so close to the main show and yet not quite there, and I made myself a promise on that night. I made myself a promise right there and then that I WOULD make it. I made myself a promise right there and then that I WOULD make it to the biggest events, that I WOULD fight the BIGGEST challenges and that one day, somehow, I would raise a championship belt HIGH ABOVE MY HEAD!

The fans cheer even more now.

Lexy Chapel: And now Tom? Now I get my chance, and I couldn’t be more excited! Look at me, I have Goosebumps all over my body! I have adrenaline rushing through my veins. I’m more excited than I’ve EVER BEEN IN MY LIFE knowing that I’ve done the first part, that I’ve booked my spot, that I’M GOING TO DOWNFALL OF ALL OF US TO FIGHT FOR THE SAN DIEGO BAY CHAMPIONSHIP! And I couldn’t be more excited, I couldn’t be more pumped up, and I don’t know if I’m going to win, I don’t know if I’m going to make my dreams come true on that night but I promise two things. I promise that on that night I will give EVERYTHING that I have and I will leave EVERYTHING in that ring just for a chance to win my first ever championship. And if I don’t win, if I don’t make it this time I promise you that I won’t ever give up, that I’ll keep pushing myself and that one day I’m going to make my dreams come true in front of the world!

The fans applaud more and start chanting ‘LEX-Y CHA-PEL’. She puts a hand over her mouth, just listening to the fans and looking at Tom in disbelief before uncovering her mouth where we can see she’s got a hugely proud look on her face.

Lexy Chapel: Oh god, I love it here so much!

Tom Matheny: And these people are starting to love you too. Ladies and gentlemen, once again, the winner of this match and competing for the San Diego Bay Championship at Downfall of All of Us, LEXY CHAPEL!

The fans cheer again as “Cynics and Critics” by Icon For Hire hits the PA system again and Lexy raises her arms up again. The scene cuts to commercial as Lexy still waves to fans chanting "LEX-Y CHAP-EL!" with the appropriate claps.

As the show comes back from commercial, we are greeted by the sight of a suited Japanese man alongside the Human Kaiju that calls herself Emi Watanabe.

Minoru Ishii: Good evening, San Francisco. My name is Minoru Ishii, and I am the official translator for Emi Watanabe. Tonight, Watanabe-san has an announcement that she would like to make to you all.

If Ishii seems nervous, it's because the suited translator has his collar clutched tightly by one Miss Watanabe. The growl she gives seems to indicate that she wants a spot-on translation, with no attempts to clean up her language.

Minoru Ishii: Ahem...listen up, f**ktards! I'm only gonna say this once, so make sure you pay attention! My tag team partner just told me the good news today, and it's gonna be shitty news indeed for the guy who runs this place and his fratboy circlejerk partner!

Ishii's cheeks are scarlet. He mumbles something to Watanabe, who only tightens her grip on the collar more, forcing more of her prepared statement out.

Minoru Ishii: In two weeks, DESTROY ALL HUMANS! are coming for the FRONTIER tag belts. I had Ishii here translate the Tweets Collins sent Kamigawa-san a few weeks ago, and it just confirms what a sad sack of shit Johnny is. I don't listen to most of Furor's speeches, not a speech kind of gal, but he's probably right about Collins and the rest of Seikigun, so I'm just going to do the world a favor and punch Collins in the face until he dies from it.

Translation seems to be a new line of work for one Mr. Ishii, a student at UCSD. At the very least, Watanabe's Japanese is using words he hasn't had much of an opportunity to use yet, let alone in front of a global audience.

Minoru Ishii: See, Ryuji's afraid he hates Collins so much he'll end up getting disqualified, so I've been put on “render Jonathan Collins incapable of impregnating She Who Shits Rainbows” duty in two weeks. Don't give two f**ks who you are or who you've beaten, cause no one's the same after I punch them in the face. Looking forward to this, fighting guys is AWESOME. Means one more glaring weak point. Kicking someone in the dick feels f**kin' AMAZING.

Ishii goes pale, shooting a concerned look at Watanabe – who promptly confirms his need to be worried by lunging and kicking Minoru square in the dick. Sympathy winces from men all over the arena ensue as Minoru goes down, dropping the microphone.

Watanabe picks it up, kneeling down over the pained Ishii. The ruffle she gives his hair is surprisingly affectionate-seeming, particularly considering she just traumatized his manhood.

And then, with a demoness' gleam in her eye that is likely to send the censors into overdrive, she speaks.

Emi Watanabe: GODFATHERS OF WRESTLING! TWO WEEKS – SAYO-F**KING-NARA! TWO WEEKS, DESTROY ALL HUMANS F**KS YOUR SHIT UP!

The cackle that follows is decidedly unladylike, not that one Watanabe seems to give a fuck.

Emi Watanabe: And COLLINS? I RIP YOUR DICK OFF AND F**K YOUR ASS WITH IT! WE ARE GODS AND MONSTERS, C**KSUCKER!

Dick Morosi: Things are starting to really heat up here, Seth.  Emi Watanabe made it clear that in two weeks, Destroy All Humans! are coming for the Godfathers of Wrestling and their GFC Tag Team Titles in two weeks.

Seth Ericson: I have a strong feeling we're going to see some huge things tonight and on the road to our next iPPV. But hey, look at us...WE'RE IN SAN FRANCISCO! HEY WARFIELD!

The crowd cheers as Seth stands up and waves out at the audience.

Dick Morosi: We really are. EXODUS is going on the road these days, and we're bringing you great matches like this one next! Newcomer Alexis Terry is bringing it to The Risen Star, Jimmy Riley...next!

SINGLES MATCH
JIMMY RILEY VS. ALEXIS TERRY

A clam take overs the gathered audience as they await in a certain anticipation for arrival of "England's Most Glamorous Export". "Falling Down (Instrumental)" By Oasis cues and the stage lights dim to a neon purple. Smoke fills the ramp area and stage as Alexis Terry emerges from the smoke with a smirk upon her face. The crowd boos heavily but Alexis' face remains the same - a cold, arrogant look cemented on her mug.

David Zinkus: And from Newcastle, England - she is 'England's Most Glamorous Export', ALEXISSSSSS TERRRRRY!

Alexis tilts her head back allowing the hood of her ring jacket to slide off her skull. She throws her arms into the air and looks up closing her eyes to take in the roar of the crowd. She then begins to move her feet, crossing enemy lines to head to the ring. She slides in and quickly removes her jacket as she lets it slip out of her hand and hit the ground. She kicks it out of the ring and heads to the corner awaiting for the contest to begin.

Dick Morosi: Somehow, I don't think she appreciates the gravity of who she's facing tonight.

Seth Ericson: Well, what did you expect? She's been looking down on everyone since she got here.

Dick Morosi: She's about to get brutally surprised momentarily when her opponent hits the ring.

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


Jimmy Riley bursts through the curtain, his steps driven, his hoodie half-zipped, and his face almost stoic. His arms shoot out to the sides as he soaks in the reaction for a moment on the stage before beginning a somewhat slow walk down the aisle.


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

David Zinkus: Now entering the ring, from Cleveland, Ohio...now residing in San Diego, California! Weighing in at two-hundred fourty-five pounds! This is “THE RISING STAR”...JIMMY...RILEY!


Jimmy hops down into the ring, walking to each side while his mouth moves almost non-stop. As he reaches the final side of the ring, he removes his hoodie, tossing it to the floor and leaning into his corner.

Dick Morosi: Jimmy Riley put on a hell of a show a month ago in Tokyo, narrowly losing his match to Fiona Collins, his cousin in law.

Seth Ericson: You know it still ate him up inside, but if anyone can bounce back, it's Jimmy Riley.

The bell sounds after D'Artis Johnson calls for the bell, and Alexis Terry draws a line in the sand, stomping her foot as she dares Jimmy Riley to approach her. He looks a little bemused as he comes near the line drawn, and Alexis Terry slaps him in the face.

Dick Morosi: Uh oh...

Seth Ericson: This typically doesn't end well.

The crowd watches as Jimmy turns his head and smirks, nodding as Terry laughs, pointing at him as he seems to be almost in agreement...BEFORE DELIVERING AN ELBOW THAT FORCES TERRY'S HEAD TO WHIP AT BREAKNECK SPEED....MAYBE LITERALLY! He instantly picks up Alexis Terry...BACKDROP SUPLEX! He has the crowd behind him as they start roaring their approval as he does a light job, starting a "U-S-A!" chant! Jimmy starts sizing up Terry, who is taking a real slow time getting up...ALL THE SHINE! Without hesitation, he grabs her as she stands on her feet, looking out of it...SUPERNOVA LARIAT! The crowd has erupted, and Jimmy has signaled that it's time! He gets on his feet, lifts up the woman that is practically dead weight...LIGHT 'EM UP! HE HOOKS IT AND IT'S ACADEMIC!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE! "D.O.A." starts again, and Jimmy Riley is your winner!

WINNER: JIMMY RILEY

Dick Morosi: That wasn't just a victory from Jimmy Riley, that was a statement!

Seth Ericson: You want to know what's next for Jimmy Riley? A date with destiny...and the EXODUS Pro World Title, quite possibly!

Dick Morosi: It wouldn't be hard to see that in his future. For now, let's head back--wait, Jimmy has a mic!

Indeed, Jimmy Riley is standing in the ring, having hardly broken a sweat. He nudges the body of Alexis Terry out of the ring with his foot, then reaches down in her corner of the ring, picking up the defunct Galveston Island Wrestling World Heavyweight Title belt. Looking around, he holds the belt up with a little smirk on his face, and a microphone in his other hand. The crowd applauds as Jimmy slings the belt over his shoulder and brings the mic to his face.

Jimmy Riley: I belive...this makes me the new GIW World Heavyweight Champion. So...I guess that means EXODUS finds itself in dispute?

He shrugs as the crowd lightly cheers him, though it's clear that nobody in the Warfield is taking this claim seriously, least of whom being Jimmy himself.

Jimmy Riley: Look, let's cut to the chase; I don't expect Nicholas Gray to take this belt as some kind of offering like he did from Fiona. But the truth is this; I came inches...seconds...mere moments away from going to the Honor Cup Finals. Not Savannah Taylor. Not Kira Zeppeli. Not Zack Lifer.

He makes a point...to point at himself.

Jimmy Riley: Me. So I'm asking you, Jonathan. I'm asking you, Nicholas. Put me in the Cibernetico. Give me that chance, because if I don't win that opportunity, you have my word, on the grave of my father...I'll never ask for another one. Put me in the Cibernetico, because I'm willing to do whatever it takes to win it, to go through anyone that gets put in my way.

Now the round of applause is a little bit bigger, with some respect being shown to the former International/San Diego Bay Champion. After a pause, “D.O.A.” starts playing on the PA system and Jimmy lays the microphone down on the mat before heading to leave the ring as we cut to commercial.