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Dick Morosi: Savannah Taylor can't be happy.

Seth Ericson: Is she ever really happy?

Dick Morosi: Speaking of malcontents, this next match is no disqualification! Brett Sands meets Jaime Alejandro...next!



David Zinkus: The following contest is a No Disqualifications Match scheduled for one fall.

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

David Zinkus: Introducing first, from Cincinnati, Ohio, he is Brett! SANDS!

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

Dick Morosi: A lot of people think that Sands is a dead man. He’s got under the skin of almost EVERYONE in EXODUS, especially the vets, vets like Jaime Alejandro who are itching to teach this kid a lesson in respect.

Seth Ericson: I don’t know, Sands is a pretty decent talent. I mean, he DID beat Adrien Cochrane Dick. How many people can claim that?

Dick Morosi: And what has he done since then? Lose, make excuses, and make an ass of himself. I’m not saying he can’t be something in this company, all that I see is a kid that needs to be humbled real quick. And what better way than in a match like this where there are no rules?

Seth Ericson: Spoken like a true angry old fart. Let the kid live! I got your back Brett!

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

David Zinkus: And his opponent, from San Antonio, Texas… this is Jaime! ALEJANDRO!!!

I want to be a good man, I want to see God
I want to be faithful but I know that I’m not
I want to be a good man, I want to do right
I don’t wanna be a criminal for the rest of my life

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

Everything that I've done before
Has brought me back down to my knees
I’m crying out to you, Lord
It’s getting harder and harder to see
If there’s good left in me?
Is there any good left in..ME!!!

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

David Zinkus: Jaime is as focused as I’ve ever seen him. I followed him throughout his tenure in Shoot Project, and right now, he looks like a man on a mission.

Seth Ericson: He’s out for blood tonight. We wants to teach Sands some respect, and that’s fine. But lets remember Bretty is at home in this environment. He doesn’t live with rules.

*DING! DING! DING!*

The bell chimes thrice, Sands in a slightly crouched position, his mind racing with different thoughts mainly concerned about self-preservation as his lock on Alejandro, waiting for the Strong Style Saint to make the first move. Jaime stares straight back, angrily, then begins to smile which perturbs Sands. Suddenly, a man seen earlier to be Black Jones comes rushing down the aisle holding a duffle bag full of weapons. He slides it under the bottom rope as the two competitors watch. Katie Hanneman merely shrugs her shoulders while the Texan shoves the bag into the corner. With that out of the way, Black Jones rushes backstage, allowing Sands and Alejandro to finally get going. They circle the ring once, trading slides, then finally get somewhat close and Sands throws a solid right hand, landing flush in Jaime’s jaw. Jaime is staggered, but immediately re-gathers himself and points a finger with his right hand to say “Nice One Chump.” Sands, feeling confidence, marches toward Jaime, who drops retreats from the potential tie up. The veteran who was quickly emerged as a fan favorite in his short tenure in EXODUS opens the Nike duffel bag and rummages through it, before emerging with a lighttube in each hand. He looks devilishly at Sands who is somewhat apprehensive and tentative now that weapons have been introduced to the contest so early. Further confusing Sands, Jaime tosses him one of the lighttubes, which Brett catches and backs up to brandish like a lightsaber. It doesn’t take long after this to see where they’re going, as Jaime suddenly charges forward swinging his lighttube with vigor and malice. He misses his swing, and pays for it as the lighttube smashes across his forehead. The glass shatters a small cut is opened on Alejandro’s scalp, but he quickly shakes it off and flails his own lighttube again, this time horizontally - and he succeeds as he smashes it into Brett’s sternum. Brett’s eyes go wide as some of the glass stabs him in the pectorals and sternum, stunning him somewhat by the unexpected hit, and he slowly backpedals into the ropes.

Dick Morosi: They traded lighttubes there in the opening moments, Seth, and it looks like Jaime is going to go to some dark places to teach Sands some respect.

Seth Ericson: They’re both cut early. Loss of blood will wear you out quickly. If I’m Brett, I’d try to turn this into a wrestling match. You don’t want to get into a hardcore match with the Strong Style Saint.

With no weapons in their disposal, they two go at it again. Sands comes forward with a stiff kick across the chest of a lunging Alejandro, causing him to double over slightly. Brett locks a hand, looking to whip Jaime into the ropes, the Texan holds his ground, proving be considerably more stronger than his foe. He pulls Brett in, ducking their linked arms and pivoting, this of which causes Brett’s head to shoot under Jaime’s arm. Alejandro tries for a DDT, but Brett rolls the arm and slips out to one side. He pulls Alejandro’s arm in, then tries for a Lariat Takedown. No. Jaime ducks, and goes for another DDT by locking the head, but Sands lands a combination to the gut. The Texan relinquishes his grip, allowing Sands to strike with a boot to the gut, afterward which he tries to lift his antagonist onto his shoulders, Dream Killer? Reversed, Jaime quickly belts him with a series of elbows to the hairline before strafing to the back and pulling Brett’s arm in for a Russian Legsweep. Sands is able to escape, and quickly spins around to throw a stiff punch - and that’s where the wrestling maneuvers end.

The two participants begin hammering each other with wild fists, one arm flailing away while the other holds onto the rival’s to keep the within an arm’s reach. Katie scurries to safety as both men continue their cartoonish tornado like flurry of flying knucklesammiches as they make their way across the ring and end up hurling rights and lefts into the ropes across from the aisle. Jaime leaning on the trio of cables, forfeits the upperhand in favor of of his adversary who then lunges at his throat while he seemingly begins to froth at the month - appearing to have already psychologically succumbed to the barbarity of the match. Jaime stomps on Brett’s foot - a dirty tactic of course in an otherwise sanctioned match - granting him little time and breathing room, following up with a headbutt and a nasty forearm smash. Sands stumbles back, the Strong Style Saint escaping from his predicament to land another forearm shot, closing in with a quick step. The Texan reels forth a third forearm, which is blocked; Sands then grabs Jaime’s protruded hand before driving a cold elbow into his Southern foe that rocks his world. Alejandro is sent staggering back into the ropes, and upon rebounding regains his composure and returns with an elbow of his very own. The Ohioan turns with the blow and stumbles further away, leaving Jaime to fall back into the ropes - both men collecting themselves. Jaime holds a hand to his forehead where a crimson mask is in it’s preliminary stage, while Brett shakes his cranium whilst turning away, taking more time to get himself together and shake the cobwebs. The veteran pulls himself off the ropes once more, and with a flick of hair, Jaime glares at his opponent, Brett turned three-quarters away from him with a look over his shoulder of hatred and arrogance. He turns slowly, daring Jaime to come at him. It is then that the Strong Style Saint cracks his neck, and flexes his shoulders, adjusting them, before obliging.

Jaime: BRING IT ON YOU PUNK ASS BASTARD!

Seth Ericson: SH*T JUST GOT REAL, DARE I SAY IT!

Dick Morosi: They’re going to kill each other.

Alejandro charges forward with a battle cry, but Sands heads for the hills as he ducks out of the ring. Not allowing him to get off that easy, the Texan gives chase - falling right into Brett’s trap. Brett lands a clubbing blow to the top of his foe’s head, apparently keying on on the gash that was created by the lighttube earlier. Jamie, fighting it off, shoves Sands back into the steel barricade and holds him against his will with one hand, then opens his right to slap his palm hard against the Ohioan’s chest. “WOO!” emanates throughout Korakuen Hall as another stiff chop is administered to Brett’s open-cut chest, giving him quite the stinging sensation as he cringes in pain. He then pulls Sands toward him and ducks down before scooping the narcissist up between his legs, before driving him back into the barricade as the front-row fans step away. Jaime isn’t finished yet, as the shuffles himself so that he stands next to his dishonorable opponent, and reaches an arm around Brett’s head, at the same time tucking his left leg behind his rival’s right. The Strong Style Saint pulls both his weight and the frame of Sands off the railing, taking a small step toward the squared circle. Having given themselves some breathing room, the Texan straightens up before jumping backward - still hanging onto his captive. Both competitors slam into the barricade spine first as their backs crack against the unforgiving barrier - grinding it back a few feet as both slowly slither to the arena floor after the barricade-assisted Russian Leg Sweep. Brett grimaces through his grit teeth while Jaime creaks up onto his knees, looking to regain a vertical base.

Dick Morosi: Good Gold Almighty, he slammed him right into the guardrail! He’ll be feeling that next week.

Seth Ericson: He’ll be feeling that right NOW! Jaime is going to town on Sands. Come on Brett, you better turn the tables or we’re going to be carting you out on a stretcher kid!

Jaime pulls himself up using the guardrail, while Sands crawls back toward the ring, before staggering to his feet. He’s looking to get a breather, but Jaime isn’t in the business of letting his opponent’s take brakes. Nope, not even at the slightest. In hot pursuit of his nemesis, the Texan plods forward and grabs a hold of Sands, only to have the Ohioan turn around and rake him in the eyes. The gesture doesn’t go over with those in attendance, but it gives Brett the opportunity to take control as he wraps his hands around Jaime’s skull before pulling it backward -only to send it forward and bounce it off the side of the ring apron. Sands drags him over to the barricade, then does the same thing as he smashes Alejandro’s face across the hard surface. The Strong Style Saint staggers in place, then is promptly taken off his feet by a most brutal European Uppercut. The Shoot Project star leans on the floor as Sands backs away and walks over to the ring, slowly reaching under the apron before pulling out a table. Jaime begins pulling up on the apron as Brett drags the table toward him. Both men get to their feet, and Jaime bumrushes him with a combination of lefts and rights. Sands parries one of them, then returns fire with a STIFF European Uppercut, then grabs Jaime by the arm and attempts to Irish Whip him. Jaime counters, pivoting on his heels and turning around before pulling Sands in, launching him into the steel stairs that don’t budge upon the kindred car crash collision.

While Sands rests on the floor, Jaime digs under the ring and pulls out a trashcan; he reaches down into the bottom of it and grinning mischievously as he does so whilst he takes hold of the household item that was about to become his weapon of mass destruction. Alejandro grabs the lip of the can, pulling up up and holding it over head as he turns around and eyeballs his stirring foe. When Sands gets to his feet Jaime rushes forward, swinging the can at Brett’s head. The Ohioan blocks the shot, bringing his hand sup to grab the bottom of the container. Jaime smiles, and merely audibles, as he settles for a swift, and vile kick to his opponent’s gashed chest. He sits the container down and grabs a hold of the lid inside, then waits for Brett to come to… when does

*WHAP* *WHAP*

Seth Ericson: POW! Right in the kisser!

Jaime sneaks in a second shot as Brett stumbles from recoil, resulting in him teetering and on his toes. Somewhat unfazed, he raises both hands again and flicks in his fingers, inviting Jaime for a third attempt to render him debilitated. Alejandro smirks and shakes his head, carelessly tossing the weapon asside - now possessing a decent curvature from Brett’s cranium. He stares back at his foe, then motions to the crowd. On the defense, the egotist retreats once again - and like any good game of cat and mouse Jaime gives chase. They round the ringside area, and with Brett being younger and considerably more athletic he is able to get plenty of breathing room. The distance between he and his antagonist gives him the time to pick the the trash can lid. He looks out through his peripheral vision, then widens his stance. Being a bit cocky, and somewhat showman-like, Sands brandishes his weapon to some applause. The two men continue their hilarious episode of bull vs matador of Tom vs Jerry as Jaime charges now, making his way across the ring to….

*WHAP*

receive a face full of lid as it smacks across his mug, causing the rest of his body to gyrate and convulse in wake of the strike. The veteran nearly buckles at the knees from the trauma one wouldn’t nearly expect from such a seemingly lightweight, harmless piece of furniture. With Jaime reeling, Sands drops the lid, and maneuvers behind him, before lifting him up off his feet before falling back to slam him into the aluminum can, severely crushing it beneath their combined mass. Both men grimace in pain as Sands crawls onto the cold floor holding his lower back, while Alejandro can only remain still in somewhat of a paralysis from the collision.

Dick Morosi: Belly To Back Suplex! And right onto that trash can. Those screams tell the whole story - one of these guys is going to need serious medical attention if they keep up at this pace.

Seth Ericson: Well, I hope they have Obamacare. Not that it will help though, they’ll just end up paying for coverage they don’t need within two years.

Sands slowly climbs back to his feet, and makes his way to the ring, quickly rummaging through Jaime’s gym bag before pulling out a kendo stick. He raises the shinai above his head and Jaime climbs to his feet. Remorselessly, he slaps the stick across the upper back of the Strong Styler Saint. The bamboo wood cracks and fractures with a snap, and splinters into pieces as Jaime drops to his knees, his back arched and his head raised from a sharp of pain. Brett raises the stick onto his shoulder, seeming to warm up before swinging like the bases were loaded in the bottom of the ninth in the world series, connecting with a Derek Jeter like swing against the base of Alejandro’s skull. The force is too much for the tough bamboo and it breaks through, the top of it hitting the barricade between the action and the fans. Brett tosses what’s left of the stick into the crowd before lifting Jaime up to his feet and tossing him into the ring. Before he climbs in himself, Sands rummages under the ring for a two steel chairs. He throws one into the ring, then slides into the squared hell with the other held against his body. Brett gets up and readies his chair in his hands to strike. Alejandro makes it to his feet and stumbles toward his rival.

Brett steps toward him and swings the chair violently, but the Strong Style Saint is able to dodge his potential beheading. Acting he reaches around the Ohian’s torso and lifts him in the air, chair overhead before finally brings it down. Jaime ignores the pain of the chair shot before slamming Sands into the canvas - the ego driven wrestler landing with a resounding thud as he hits the mat. Jaime finally falls down, slumping over onto his side as the wear and tear begins to set. Coming back to, Sands climbs to his feet and pulls himself up in the far corner, clutching the ring ropes as he waits for Jaime. Alejandro rises to his feet, prompting Sands to launch himself across the ring. He looks to be going for a Spear, but he is suddenly intercepted by referee Katie Hanneman who scoop him up across her body before slamming him into the canvas with a Reverse Powerslam much to the dismay of everyone in attendance. With a smile on her face, the acting official puts out a sock puppet from her pocket before hover overing Brett’s motionless body and taunted him whilst shouting a number of obscenities.

Dick Morosi: WHAT THE HELL? Katie Hanneman just took over Brett Sands! She can’t do that! What the hell is going on?!

Seth Ericson: I’m speechless? I blame that kid Black Jones. His type are always corrupted are young people with their slang, their hip-hop music and their twerk dances.

Katie simply backs away into the nearest corner and pretends like she’s done nothing out of ordinary as Jaime notices the chair that was just used to put him down a moment ago, and picks it up as Sands tries to get up. The two men approach one another, Sands albeit gingerly and still stunned from the events that just transpired. Jaime immediately lifts the chair overhead to strike - but Sands shoots forward to avoid getting blasted in the crown. He quickly grabs the second chair, then comes back to thrust the top of his into Alejandro’s gut. The near seven foot powerhouse doubles over as Brett turns the chair around in his hands then jabs one of the legs of the chair into the back of Jaime’s left knee, making him drop to favor it. Brett gets up and walks back around to Jaime’s front, then grips the chair with both hands around his waist. He prepares to raise it, but Jaime grabs it as well and thrusts it into Brett’s solar plexus, causing the Heavyweight to bend over. Jaime pulls the chair from sands and slams it into his gut once again, keeping him at bay. Still on one knee, Jaime lifts the chair to put it in front of Brett’s head, Sands still holding it, and then the Strong Style Saint slams the top of his head straight into the chair. Brett lets go of the piece of furniture and staggers back. Jaime gets up now with what was Brett’s chair now in his clutches, and kicks the other chair toward Sands while making his way over to his battered foe. A punch-drunk Brett finally stands straight up and Jaime reaches over him with his left hand, chair clutched in that hand to place it across his rival’s spine, then he drops down and puts his right arm between Brett’s legs and grips the other side of the chair.

In an incredible feat of strength, Jaime suddenly lifts Brett up off the canvas and flips him over before slamming him onto the mat with a VENGEANCE, Brett’s back landing onto the chair. Hanneman approaches Jaime, but he merely waves her off as if she is inconsequential. The Texan grabs the other chair and places it onto Brett’s chest, then regains a vertical base and stares out into the crowd for a moment. He slowly leans into the ropes, before bouncing off and leaping into the air, extending his elbow to drive it right into the chair, crushing Brett between the two chairs. Much of the crowd lets out an “OOH!” of approval, others simply just clap as Sands is getting his just deserts.

Seth Ericson: Jaime has gone postal with those chairs Dick. He’s opened up a can on Brett Sands. Good lord this is getting uglier than my second marriage.

Dick Morosi: I thought your third was the ugly one.

Seth Ericson: No, she was just ugly. Pay attention, jackass.

The Texan slowly descends to the canvas before rolling out of the ring. He makes his way to the table on the floor, and this causes Katie to exit the ring. Jaime doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing, and continues to ignore her and shrug off her demands as he pushes the table into the ring. As he tries to re-enter the ring she doesn’t allow him. She grabs onto his legs and drags him to the floor. Then pulls him underneath the ring and the audience has no idea how to react to what’s going on. The commentary team is just as clueless, just as perturbed as Hannahan and Jaime disappear underneath the squared circle.

Dick Morosi: WHAT IS SHE DOING? What is THIS? Seth-SETH?!

Seth Ericson: SHENANIGANS!

After about thirty seconds, Hannemann crawls from underneath back into the view of arena, holding a phone in her hand. A bloody Jaime Alejandro soon follows after as he adjusts his ring trousers - his hair completely disheveled and his face a look of panic and shock as the crowd has no choice but to go on and cheer the foolishness. Looking to focus back on the task at hand, Jaime climbs back onto the apron, and steps halfway through the ropes until…

*CRACK*

A chair smashes him right in the face dropping him like a bad habit as he falls through the ropes and collapses into the ring. With Alejandro on dream street, Sands focuses his attention on the table, picking it up before placing it in the nearby corner. As Jaime tries to pull himself in the corner, Sands steps back and drops in a three-point stance. Alejandro staggers to his feet, and Brett charges in. At the last moment, the Strong Style Saint picks up the nearest chair and turns around.

*SMASH*

Dick Morosi: SANDSPEAR! SANDSPEAR!

Seth Ericson: But Alejandro protected himself with the chair! This is chaos, utter chaos! They’re both down.

Sands crawls into the middle of the ring as Alejandro lies in the debris of the broken, shattered table. The crowd is nuts at this point, looking to rile one of the competitors to their feet. Brett, looking visibly concussed, and glazed over sits up, appearing like he has no idea where is. Jaime drags himself out of the wreckage in the corner, and crawls toward Brett. With both men on their knees they slowly begin trading lefts and rights, lefts and rights, and both of them appear to be getting an adrenaline rush as they climb to their feets and continue to slug each other. Sands lands a series of European Uppercuts and elbows strike to take the advantage, and sensing that time is of the essence he quickly lifts Sands onto his shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. He goes for the Dream Killer, but as she spins Alejandro, The Texan uses the momentum to escape and land on his feet. A flustered Sands steps forward, receiving a boot to the midsection before Jaime lifts him up for the Kilmer Combustion…. AND NAILS IT!

Dick Morosi: KILMER COMBUSTION! KILMER COMBUSTION!

A bloodied and exhausted Jaime simply collapses across Brett's chest and performs a pinfall.

“ONE!”
“TWO!”
“THREE!”

Seth Ericson: It’s over. DAMMIT SANDS! But… GOD… what a match!

We cut backstage as Jaime rolls over and looks up at the mat, relieved and with a grin on his face.

WINNER: JAIME ALEJANDRO

Seth Ericson: What a war! What a fucking war! THAT WAS INSANE!

Dick Morosi: For once he's not exaggerating, Alejandro and Sands went into this looking to destroy one another and by God did they ever. But only one man stands on top after this, and it's Jaime Alejandro. There's gonna be a lot of people happy to see this.

Seth Ericson: I lost 5 bucks on this...

Dick Morosi: Your own damn fault. Now let's head backstage where Tom Matheny has a special interview!

We cut to the backstage area, where Tom Matheny stands next to Dr. Kuller, who is holding a box.

Tom Matheny: I'm here with Dr. Cyril Kuller, and Kuller, I have one question for you.

Dr. Cyril Kuller: I am fully capable of answering any questions relating to BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL MEDICAL SCIENCE!

Tom Matheny: Well...it is. So, great! I want to know the condition of Jonathan Collins. Is he cleared to compete?

Dr. Cyril Kuller: That depends. Is he full of CYBERNETICS?!

Tom Matheny: I...I don't know. Is he?

Dr. Cyril Kuller: NO! HE'S NOT! I TOLD HIM, IF HE WANTS TO CRUSH JERRY'S SKULL LIKE A CHERRY BOY, THEN HE SHOULD BE FILLED WITH CYBERNETIC PARTS! BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOO! HE DEMANDED I NOT PUT ANYTHING INTO HIM!

Tom Matheny: ...so, is he cleared?

Dr. Cyril Kuller: ...yes. He is medically cleared to face Jerry Matthews. Though...tell me Mr. Matheny...

Tom Matheny: ...yes?

Dr. Cyril Kuller: Can I interest you in...

He reaches into the box, pulling out a robotic arm that is missing half of itself.

Dr. Cyril Kuller: A BRAND NEW ARM TO REPLACE THAT OLD BROKEN ONE?!

Tom Matheny: My...my arm isn't broken.

Dr. Cyril Kuller: I CAN FIX THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT~

Tom Matheny: ...good night.

And Tom slowly backs away from Dr. Kuller, who just looks kind of sad as we go elsewhere backstage...

We're actually not at the designated interview station backstage, but instead in one of the communal locker rooms. Tom Matheny and a camera are slowly approaching a clearly despondent Jimmy Riley, who is still in his gear, his hoodie laid on the bench next to him. His hair is matted with sweat, and his face is resting in his hands, almost hiding from the world.

Tom Matheny: ….Jimmy...can we get a word?

The former San Diego Bay Champion looks up from his hands; his face is almost devoid of emotion. Every possible reaction he could have had from the match has come and gone, and all that's left is a man stuck in his own head. Tom and the camera take a few steps closer.

Tom Matheny: We just wanted to get your thoughts...fought hard out there tonight...how are you feeling?

Jimmy opens his mouth to answer...but nothing comes out. He stops, looks off to the room, then turns back to Tom, still silent.

Tom Matheny: Do you have a...a prediction for the main event? Fiona Rourke, Andreas Lasiewicz?

This time Jimmy doesn't even open his mouth. He looks down, letting out a deep, loud exhale of breath. After a few seconds, he looks again at Tom.

Tom Matheny: Then...one more question, and I've just gotta know...what's next for Jimmy Riley?

At that, Jimmy stands up. He looks down at the bench, picks up his hoodie, and slings it over his shoulder. After a moment, he looks at Tom once more...opens his mouth...and then...

Jimmy Riley: I...I don't know.

After that he shakes his head, walking out of the room to leave Tom and the cameraman as the only people left.

Tom Matheny: Let's head back to ringside.

With that, we cut back to Dick and Seth.

Dick Morosi: Up next, folks, it's teacher versus student here in the Land of the Rising Sun, a nation that both Seymour Almasy and Ryuji Kamigawa hold dear in their hearts.

Seth Ericson: Seymour Almasy more or less has stated that he came here to clean up the mess that Ryuji Kamigawa made when he started Gods & Monsters with Magnus Gunner. As you can imagine, Kamigawa-san hasn't taken kindly to his mentor's meddling. Almasy has vowed to take Gods & Monsters down. He's beaten Magnus Gunner...one of the two co-founders, but now, he's got to take on a much, MUCH larger man in Kamigawa.

Dick Morosi: Almasy trained Kamigawa. He knows full well what Ryuji Kamigawa brings to an EXODUS ring. Defeat at the hands of Chris Strike in a multi-man match or not, it takes a Hell of a competitor to beat Ryuji one on one. Almasy's coming off two straight losses...and may be going through something of a crisis of faith...if you're willing to listen to Kamigawa.

Seth Ericson: We're going to find out. Let's go up to David Zinkus and see what's what!



David Zinkus: This contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first!

The arena lights fade to black, and soon, the only light in the arena is that of cell phones, small pinpricks of light in the darkness. After a few moments, though, it becomes clear that there's a clustered concentration of them in the upper deck of the arena. 

THAT, of course, only means one thing: the arrival of one of the band of demons and deities known as Gods & Monsters.

The angry, aggressive opening beats of Five Finger Death Punch's cover of Will Smith's classic “Mama Said Knock You Out” hit the speakers, and the arena lights return, to reveal the God in White, Ryuji Kamigawa, standing with his arms spread out in the G&M trademark crucifix pose atop the rampway.

Don't call it a comeback
I been here for years
Rockin my peers and puttin suckas in fear
Makin the tears rain down like a MON-soon
Listen to the bass go BOOM

Kamigawa seems to revel in the boos, drinking them down like so much of the Dom Perignon that he carries to ringside with him in a large bottle. All business, the sunglasses-wearing enforcer stomps down to ringside, ready for a fight.

Explosion, overpowerin'
Over the competition, we're towerin'
Wreckin shop, when I drop these lyrics that'll make you call them cops
Don't you dare stare, you betta move
Don't ever compare
Us to the rest that'll all get sliced and diced
Competition's payin our price

As the famous chorus hits, Kamigawa slides in underneath the bottom rope. Settling into his corner, he begins to shadowbox, throwing rights and lefts with a sneer on his face as Mr. Zinkus announces him to the world.

I'm gonna knock you out
Mama said knock you out

I'm gonna knock you out
Mama said knock you out

David Zinkus: Coming to us from Osaka, Japan, he stands six feet, five and one-half inches tall, and weighs in at three-hundred and twelve pounds! Representing Gods & Monsters, this is the Monster in White – Bakemono no Otoko – RYUUUJIII KAMIIGAAWAA!!

I'm gonna knock you out
Mama said knock you out

I'm gonna knock you out
Mama said knock you out

As the song fades out, Kamigawa ceases his pre-match workout, and simply walks to center-ring, ready to do what he does best.

David Zinkus: And, his opponent!

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.

DING DING DING!

Seymour wastes no time whatsoever, leaping into the twisting roundhouse kick to the face that he calls the Sword of Mana, PASTING Kamigawa right across the face with it.

One problem, though.

The Monster in White doesn't go down. Sure, he wobbles a bit, but Almasy's favored opening match gambit doesn't put Ryuji down.

Dick Morosi: Jesus! Almasy got ALL of that, and Kamigawa just tanked it!

By contrast, Kamigawa lunges down with a big headbutt to the cranium, dropping Seymour to the canvas. Ryuji grabs a big handful of hair, hoisting Almasy back to his feet, and slings Seymour into the nearest available corner.

Seth Ericson: Everyone who's beaten Kamigawa one on one can out quick him, use speed and quickness and agility. Almasy's gonna have to do the same, which means he CANNOT let Ryuji sling him around like a rag doll!

Kamigawa throws a pair of rights to the ribcage, and then slugs Almasy in the face, sending Seymour crumpling down to the seat of his pants. With a growl, Kamigawa backs off, to mid ring, before charging to try and crush Seymour with a knee in the corner.

Dick Morosi: Nobody home!

Almasy manages to get out of the corner just before Ryuji would have crushed him. With Kamigawa trying to get back up, Seymour peppers him with a series of kicks to the body and legs, trying his level best to keep Kamigawa from getting back on the offensive.

Seth Ericson: Almasy trying to put that plan into effect here tonight, it seems.

With a mighty push, though, Kamigawa manages to off balance Seymour, sending him ass over teakettle to the canvas. Looking down at his mentor, a grinning Kamigawa shakes his head.

Ryuji Kamigawa: Enough of this. I have...better things to do than engage you in a purposeless battle.

Dick Morosi: Wait a minute, did the mics get that?

Seth Ericson: I...think so, Dick, but the Hell? This is...sort of supposed to be a big deal, right?

Ryuji slides out under the bottom rope, glancing back over his shoulder at his mentor. Whatever the case, it seems the mission tonight isn't to give the crowd the Almasy/Kamigawa collision they expected.

With a look that screams “I give zero fucks,” Kamigawa unseats poor David Zinkus, pulling the chair right out from under him. Folding it up, Ryuji slid into the ring, seating device in hand, poised to maim his former mentor with the time-honored weapon.

Seth Ericson: Kamigawa's said it before – G&M isn't about wins and losses! I don't think he cares if he gets disqualified here!

Dick Morosi: Maybe not, but I don't understand this at all! You'd think Magnus Gunner would want Almasy taken out – though maybe that's what this is? Fuck the match, and just swing the chair? Maybe that's what Kamigawa means.

Seymour sees Kamigawa coming, and wheels to the side, just as Kamigawa swings. The chair hits the mat, and Seymour wastes no time, jumping onto the chair. The force wrings the weapon out of Kamigawa's hand and staggers him back several steps.

Ryuji charges, only to run into a straight side kick to the jaw that knocks Kamigawa back into the ropes in a sprawled heap, and Seymour himself down to the canvas.

Dick Morosi: The chair's just lying there in the middle of the ring!

The Judge Magister moves over to the weapon, picking it up to a huge roar from the RIMAC faithful. Less pleased is the official, who, frantically waves at Almasy, threatening what would have to be a disqualification as Kamigawa rises to his knees...and promptly spreads his arms wide.

Seth Ericson: Ryuji's daring him to do it! He gets the DQ win – but more importantly, I think he wants Almasy to go back on his principles!

The crowd continues to exhort Seymour on, and for a moment, it looks like he'll swing, only to finally shake his head and nod at the official, turning to head for the ropes to get rid of the weapon Kamigawa introduced to the match.

Dick Morosi: No dice, though! Seymour's not going to do it – but I think this crowd really wanted to see Kamigawa get brained.

Seth Ericson: Yeah, but Seymour proving he's a man of honor, and that's worth more to him than--

Before anyone can really register what is happening, Kamigawa is on the move. Knee-walking over to Almasy, he quickly threads an arm through Seymour's legs, and rolls back, schoolboying the Final Fantasy, and putting all of his considerable weight over Seymour's shoulders. It takes the referee a second to realize the predicament, and drops down to count.

ONE!





TWO!





THREE!

Dick Morosi: Kamigawa got him!

DING DING DING!

The Monster in White releases the rollup, and rises to his feet, a smile on his face as he gestures to his wrist. The official nods, and raises his arm high in the air as Mr. Zinkus announces the result.

David Zinkus: The time of the fall is nine minutes, seven seconds! Your winner of this contest...KAMIGAWA RYUJI!

WINNER: RYUJI KAMIGAWA

Kamigawa says nothing to his mentor, but merely grins down at the much smaller Seymour, before taking his leave of the ring, stepping out through the ring ropes and heading to the back, both arms raised triumphantly.

Dick Morosi: I don't think we can class that an upset with Kamigawa's track record, but I don't think any of us expected the student to roll up the teacher.

Seth Ericson: Sound strategy, though! With Almasy's back turned, it was easy for Kamigawa to hook the schoolboy, and his huge size advantage means there's no way in hell Seymour's getting a shoulder up underneath him.

Back in the ring, Seymour rises to his feet, more embarrassed than hurt at this point. His eyes fall to the steel chair outside the ring, the weapon having indirectly led to his downfall.

There is a smattering of polite applause, but Seymour shakes his head. In his mind, he's better than this. He got outsmarted by the man he trained – the student besting the teacher.

Something, he knew, had to change.

Dick Morosi: Something's going on here, folks. I don't know what it is...but I don't like it. Not one little bit.

Seth Ericson: Yeah. Co-signed. This...wasn't at all what we expected tonight. But with Gods & Monsters involved, perhaps we shouldn't be surprised.

Dick Morosi: Let's head backstage.

We cut backstage and in the office of Darrin Stearns is nobody...thankfully. After a week on Twitter that resulted in a mating dance and his resulting marriage to former IWF star Tiffani Michaels, Darrin seems almost relieved at the silence until the door bursts open, revealing his “friend,” Minoru Asano, along with his beloved wife, Tiffani.

Darrin Stearns: …did I do something?

Tiffani sticks her bottom lip out into a pout as she holds onto her championship belt that she kept with her even after leaving IWF. She glances over at Minoru before looking back at Darrin keeping the pout on her face as much as possible.

Tiffani Stearns: It’s more what you DIDN’T do.

Minoru nods repeatedly, oddly moving the arm holding his booze with it.

Minoru Asano: Yeaaaaaah Dairy! I mean, I’ve got an excuse, I’m drunker than a...a...a drunk...uh...a drunk drunk. But youuuuu don’t have that excuse for this!

Darrin looks over at Minoru and squints, completely unsure what the man is rambling about.

Darrin Stearns: Okay, I’ll bite. What didn’t I do?

Tiffani clutches the championship belt closer as she gives her husband her most winning smile.

Tiffani Stearns: You haven’t signed me officially to EXODUS.

Darrin Stearns: Well, I mean, you know, I was waiting for the papers to finalize on the wedding and your contract to be officially terminated with IWF. You still, y’know, have their High Impact Title.

Minoru Asano: Less excuses! More signing! AND THEN MORE BOOOOOOOOOOOOOZE!

Tiffani raises an eyebrow at Minoru slightly before she shakes her head and points to her championship belt.

Tiffani Stearns: I won this fair and square, you know! I’m not going to just give it up so someone who doesn’t deserve it walks around with my championship belt. Besides, I was thinking we could just make it a new belt here!

Minoru Asano: Who doesn’t love belts?! THEY’RE THE HYPEST SHIT!

Darrin Stearns: I kind of have to...y’know, talk to Nicholas about that. And Kane. Or Jon. I have no idea who’s the Director right now.

Darrin laughs and shakes his head as he gets up to take the hand of his wife.

Darrin Stearns: But I’ve got a contract for you all set to sign. And you too, Minoru.

Tiffani Stearns: ...I get to keep my belt though, right?

Minoru Asano: Hooray! Steady employment for alcohol money!!

Darrin Stearns: You’ll get to keep your belt until the IWF forces you to give it back, Tyrannosaurus Sex. And Minoru will have a chance to work when he’s not commentating for development.

Minoru Asano: Multi-tasking is the best!

Tiffani starts pouting again as she squeezes Darrin’s hand.

Tiffani Stearns: I’m not going to give it back Darrin. It’s mine.

Minoru Asano: Don’t be sending no repo-maaaaan!

Darrin Stearns: I think we can work on something to keep it. I’ll talk to Nicholas.

Minoru Asano: Lemme! I can beach the topic to him!

Tiffani smiles as she motions towards the door.

Tiffani Stearns: When? Are you going to talk to him now?

Minoru Asano: SURE! LET’S DO ITTTTTTTTTTTTT!

Tiffani grabs onto Darrin’s hand as she starts leading him towards the door.

Tiffani Stearns: Come on Darrin! Let’s go!

Minoru grabs Darrin’s other arm and begins to drag him along to the door.

Minoru Asano: COME ALONG SNARFS!

And so the portly drunk Japanese man drags along Darrin, while Tiffani happily hops along with them, until they finally reach the door to EXODUS Owner Nicholas Gray’s office. Minoru repeatedly raps on the door, until an angry shouting makes him stop.

Pond: I heard you the first god damned time, stop knocking I’m coming!

And thus the eternally angry redhead opens the door to find...a drunken Japanese man, Darrin “Dinosexual” Stearns, and a dinosaur. She blinks repeatedly.

Pond: Okay. I’m going home now.

And she walks past them, down the hall, and away. The three watch her depart.

Minoru Asano: ...what a nice girl!

Darrin Stearns: She’s a peach.

Darrin glances over at Nicholas and shrugs his shoulders.

Darrin Stearns: Hey Nick, we uh...need you to activate Tiff’s IWF High Impact Title here in EXODUS.

Gray simply stares. First at Minoru and then slowly...slowly….looking to Darrin.

Professor Nicholas Gray: Why. Why. Why.

Darrin Stearns: She’s, um...jumping over from the IWF and she’s their High Impact Champion. And my wife would like her title recognized.

Darrin looks down at the ground, realizing that he basically just confessed to being whipped.

Professor Nicholas Gray: I don’t know what’s worse. That you ask me by bringing...him...here. Or that you’re more whipped than a BDSM dungeon.

Minoru Asano: Hey Nick, I’ve got an ideaaaa! Let’s call Yumie, she should have a good way of convincing ya!

Gray’s face falls at the mention of his wife, joining Darrin in the shame of whipdom.

Professor Nicholas Gray: ...So...new title, huh?

Tiffani Stearns: Yes! It’s mine and I want to keep it.

Gray sits, considering it for a moment, before nodding.

Professor Nicholas Gray: Okay. New title, I can do that...but High Impact? Naaaaah. Let’s do something different!

Tiffani raises one eyebrow slightly.

Tiffani Stearns: ...different how?

Professor Nicholas Gray: That title will now go to a supreme, rare few…

Minoru Asano: Can it go to the one who can drink the most?

Professor Nicholas Gray: Fuck no it can’t!

Minoru Asano: Nyawwwww….

Tiffani Stearns: That doesn’t tell me what kind of title it is going to be!

Darrin Stearns: Well...Tiff’s been gaining a reputation for being quite loud and funny on Twitter, Nick.

Professor Nicholas Gray: I know! Which is why that belt will now go to...the funniest person in EXODUS!

Minoru Asano: But...she’s a dinosaur, does that count as people?

Tiffani Stearns: Don’t make me bite you…

Minoru Asano: Please don’t bite me Queen of the Dinoraptors!

Tiffani makes a few growling noises towards Minoru before she smiles.

Tiffani Stearns: Don’t worry! We’re friends, I won’t bite you!

Minoru Asano: Hooray! I can continue existing to put booze into my bloodstream!

Darrin Stearns: So that’s it? That’s all on the title?

Professor Nicholas Gray: Sure, sure, fine, whatever, just take him away. I sent him to developmental to KEEP HIM AWAY.

Darrin Stearns: Right, about that...I was thinking he could...team with Tiffani next week. It’s her debut, and she sounds like she wants to team with him. Right, babe?

Tiffani Stearns: Of course, he’s hilarious. Even if he keeps suggesting we have a drinking contest because he’s never had one with a dinosaur before.

Minoru Asano: Well, one time I did come close! It was a really nice Museum, and the animatr...animato...ani...animorphs….t-rex threw its head back so you could have it drink! And I was gonna drink it...but then I accidently burnt it down to stop a penguin army. But that’s a story for another day!

Tiffani Stearns: ...that story made my head spin a little.

Darrin Stearns: That story made me need a drink.

Minoru Asano: HERE YA GO, BUDDY!

And offers his bestie a bottle of Jack. To nobody’s surprise, Darrin takes the bottle, opens it, and takes a massive swig, keeping an arm around Tiffani.

Darrin Stearns: So I was thinking...how about Minoru and Tiffani take on Chris Marks and...Kamijo? He hasn’t wrestled in a while.

From inside a file cabinet pops out the head of Meta Johnson.

Meta Johnson: LOL Chris Marks!

And the head disappears.

Professor Nicholas Gray: What the fu-...uh...yeah, sure, okay. I’ll book that next show.

Darrin Stearns: Hey...I contributed!

Minoru Asano: Hooray for your contributions! LET’S ALL DRINK TO CELEBRATE!

Tiffani smiles at Darrin.

Tiffani Stearns: Hey, I’m happy… you definitely get jungle love tonight.

Darrin Stearns: What can I say? I’m the man. Hey wait a minute...I am the man!

Darrin nods his head and does a little juke and jive, realizing they’re all watching him make an ass of himself.

Darrin Stearns: ...sorry.

Professor Nicholas Gray: ...get the fuck out of my office.

Darrin Stearns: Yessir.

Darrin walks off, head hung dejectedly, as he keeps a hold of his wife’s hand.

Darrin Stearns: So...this is my job. Welcome to EXODUS?

Tiffani Stearns: How is any weirder than being married to a dinosaur?

Minoru Asano: Hey, you got me hired, so you’re the BEST DUDE IN EXODUS TO ME, SNARF!

He then grabs the both of them and squeezes them tight into an unwilling but nonetheless heartwarming group hug.

Minoru Asano: BESSSSSSSSST!

And we cut away before Minoru can tell us the story of the last time he had a group hug. Because that...is a story for another day.

Dark Match
Shinji Uchikawa/The Chapel Show/Angry Pete vs. Spirit Z/Parker Wayde/Chris Marks/Daniel Forsythe

The dark match was a complete showcase for Shinji Uchikawa and Lexy Chapel. From the moment the bell rang, the opposing team found itself under a constant mixture of attacks, high-octane power from Shinji, while Lexy dazzled the crowd and confused and battered her opponents with her speed and agility. The two showed great chemistry, with each one tagging the other in just as their opponents got used to them, keeping them off balance. During the match there was a constant, intense "Shinji Gon' Kill You!" chant started by the #SectionB fans in attendance in Japan, that got quite over with the crowd in Shinji's home country. The match came to an end when Lexy hit Parker with the Social Distortion...but only after kicking Chris Marks in the dick. Again. The crowd loved it.

WINNERS: Shinji Uchikawa/The Chapel Show/Angry Pete



The feed opens up to a courtroom. We see a judge and bailiff in their rightful, appropriate areas and positions as a collection of people flock into the room - the jurors.

The Bailiff: All rise now for the verdict.

The gathering of humanity seated in the benches behind the accused come to a stand, the jurors navigate to their appropriate station and all of them take a seat. The camera moves across the room, and at a table sits two men. The former has his hair slicked, a pair of expensive frames, matching jacket, slacks and a tie with a plain white shirt. Next to him, the latter - wearing a G&M T-shirt, a greasy suit jacket, and black pants with his signature burlap sack which covers his countenance to cap off the ensemble. The man in glasses whispers into Christum Furor's ear, and it is clear that it is his lawyer who is no doubt giving his client some last minute legal consultation.

The Bailiff: You may be seated now.

Everyone obliges, taking their seats as they were ordered to while the judge's attention is now focused in the direction of the accused, and his legal representative. He scrutinizes the madman who merely stares back coldly through the holes in his mask at the appointed arbitrator that holds his fate. The honorable magistrate takes a deep breath and furrows his brow as he prepares himself to move forward with the sentencing.

The Judge: Would Mr. Christum Furor please rise.

The man rechristened as "Christ Madness" rises to a vertical base as his lawyer follows suit.

The Judge: Mr. Furor, you are fully aware of the offenses that you have been charged with. How do you plead?

Magnus Gunner looks over both shoulders at the audience in attendance. There's a look of disdain and disgust in the eyes of almost everyone there to witness his sentencing. He hisses his discontent, then looks at his hands with a deep rooted fascination; they are the tools, and more importantly the weapons that have gotten him into this perilous predicament.

Christum Furor: Love the sin but hate the sinner. You homo sapiens remove your rose-tinted glasses but reject the chaos theory which inevitably causes the paradox that is your pathetic existence. You have this love, and this hope of what people can be but you swallow the bitter pill of who we really are on a daily basis. You want to believe that people are created equal, but they're not. Equality can only be reached through chaos.

The eloquent madman surveys the crowd which fights back the urge of voicing their inhospitable hatred.

Christum Furor: I plead guilty, guilty of being ahead of the curve, guilty of celebrating the dynamism of insanity, the energy and destructive force of modern inventions and human nature. I am guilty of perusing a hectic, deafening chaos, a world that destroys the old morality, the old society, the outmoded human product. I am guilty of seeing the cycle of death and the potential to rebuild from the ruins as I entangle with forces outside your comprehension with electric power and kinetic force.

His voice rises in decibel level, and his tone becomes militant and belligerent.

Christum Furor: I plead GUILTY... Guilty of trying to create a world that totally negates EVERYTHING that existed before it through riot destruction, defiance and confusion - and the role of chance, not as an extension of the scope of art, but as a fundamental principle of dissolution and anarchy. And I have taken THAT chance. I plead guilty you degenerate monkey for trying to create a world where disorder IS order, where pandemonium and bedlam govern society, where I am God. I am guilty, guilty of trying to destroy the world we know, a world ruled by corruption - and guilty of trying to replace it with a PERFECT world... MY NEW AGE!

The audience riots, voicing their displeasure and disdain to the villain's delight. The tumultuous patrons climb to their feet to shout obscenities and insults, but it all deflects off of his austere presence.

The Judge: ORDER! ORDER IN THE COURT!

The judge bangs his gavel, and exhibits his power over his dominion as the room settles down.

The Judge: Now... what has the jury decided?

One juror stands, glaring at the madman before looking down at a sheet of paper in his hand.

The Juror: We wholeheartedly confirm that one Christum Furor is guilty of the following charges: Multiple acts of terrorism, multiple counts of terroristic threats, including a death threat against the life of professional wrestling. Multiple counts of vandalism. Multiple counts of assault and battery. One count of cultism. Multiple accounts of aggravated assault and use of deadly force. One count of murder on September 22nd, 2013. Conspiracy for assault. Multiple counts of terroristic conspiracy. Multiple counts of violence at a company called "EXODUS" accompanied with premeditated assault and acts of maiming and or injury and paralysis. Multiple counts of public endangerment, public vulgarity and disturbing the peace. Multiple cases of assault in all three degrees. Multiple counts of causing physical and emotional trauma. Multiple counts of bribery and brainwashing.

The Juror takes a deep breath as Gunner applauds, much to the dismay if his lawyer and the chagrin of the courtroom.

The Juror: And lastly, one count of being a terrible human being.

Magnus sits as the jurors shake their heads with disgust.

The Judge: Then by the powers granted to and vested in me by the US Legal System, I hereby sentence one Christum Furor to a Battle Without Honor or Humanity. Now, would the guilty party like to say anything else before this case is closed?

Gunner rises from his seat and removes the burlap sack from his head to reveal the utter look of dementia on his visage.

Christum Furor: All Will Be Hell!

As the sociopath's final sentiment looms in the atmosphere he slowly outstretches his arms in his trademark crucifix pose.

The Judge: Court is now adjourned.

The teaming masses rejoice and fly out of the courtroom as the picture fades and we cut back to Dick and Seth.

Dick Morosi: That has to be a most chilling way to open up the show.

Seth Ericson: Dick, typically anything involving Magnus Gunner tends to run that way.

Dick Morosi: I hear we've got more going on in the back though, let's take a look.

We leave the ringside area, finding ourselves in a dark, candlelit room. These candles adorn a small coffee table in the middle of the room, illuminating a single, melancholic figure that is sat down on a brown, leather armchair. He is still dressed in his casual attire, a crisp white shirt and jeans. His head is in his hands, his breathing slow and purposeful.

Sarah Hartley: What have I told you about brooding?

Andreas looked up, a glimpse of life in those sorrowful eyes of his as he looked up to see the elegance and beauty of his girlfriend, Sarah Hartley. She looked simply amazing, dressed to the nines in a wonderfully crafted sparkling golden dress. A warm smile was upon her face, one that was only heightened by the candle light.

Andreas Lasiewicz: I feel that in this situation, brooding is acceptable…

Sarah Hartley: Darling, shouldn’t you be getting ready for your match? I’m pretty sure that I heard the show kicking off.

Andreas Lasiewicz: I’m just… collecting my thoughts…

Andreas’ head lowered once more, his better half pacing towards him and resting a comforting hand upon his shoulder.

Sarah Hartley: You are worrying too much. Everything is going to be fine. Nerves in big match situations are normal. You know that. You’ll be fine.

Andreas Lasiewicz: It is not the match that concerns me… It is what comes after it…

Sarah Hartley: What do you mean?

Andreas Lasiewicz: What if I don’t come back…?

She wrapped her arms around the man that seemed to be grieving, the worry upon his face obvious.

Sarah Hartley: We’ve gone over this, Andreas. I know what you have to do, I know what lengths you have to go to. Once the dust is settled, everything will just fall into place.

Andreas Lasiewicz: Last time I did this… everything went to ruin…

He looked up to her, his face a portrait of despair. That smile didn’t leave her face as she tried to encourage her man before he went out to battle for it all.

Andreas Lasiewicz: Maybe they are right… Maybe they are all right. Maybe I am just a monster…

Sarah Hartley: You’re not… Trust me.

Andreas Lasiewicz: You’ll be there, right? At the end?

Sarah Hartley: I’ll be at the front row. And I’ll be right back here afterwards.

He kissed her gently, his mood lightening due to her presense.

Andreas Lasiewicz: Thank you…

Sarah Hartley: No need to thank me. I want to be here.

Lady Magdalena: Sorry to interrupt you two love birds. It’s time.

The pair of them looked up, seeing Lasiewicz’s younger sister stroll into the room dressed fabulously in an over the top oriental dress. Her hair was a little wild and crazy, though her demeanour was cool and her Parisian accent polite.

Sarah Hartley:Areet, Mags!

Lady Magdalena:Bonjour, Sarah. Would you like me to escort you to your seat?

Hartley pecked Andreas on the forehead, before exiting out of sight. Magdalena nodded to her brother, quite unsure what to say before turning to leave as well.

Andreas Lasiewicz: Little Bird… a moment…

The Fair Lady paused in her movements, slightly hesitating as she did so. She turned reluctantly, expecting the worst.

Andreas Lasiewicz: If all else fails… You know what to do…

Lady Magdalena: I’m not doing it!

Magdalena folded her arms, shaking her head in the direction of her older brother. It was unclear what he was asking for, but she surely then. As Andreas spoke again, you could sense the anger brewing within him.

Andreas Lasiewicz: Breaking yet another promise, dear sister?

Lady Magdalena: Andreas… I just can’t do that!

Andreas Lasiewicz: Don’t you feel that you should start being the ‘Third Eagle’ again, as opposed from being the ‘Third Wheel’.

A tear developed in her eye, one that she wiped away quickly with the back of her hand, smudging her expertly applied make-up as she did so.

Lady Magdalena: That was uncalled for…

Andreas Lasiewicz: All my actions tonight will be uncalled for… Tis the way of the world…

Mags nodded, a little distressed. She turned dramatically to exit the room. Andreas returned to his thoughts, blowing out the candles as he did so. The screen was completely black; all that could be heard was the breath of the ‘Morning Star’.

Andreas Lasiewicz: Koniec jest początkiem jest koniec ...

After that last sentence, two dots appeared in the centre of the screen. One golden, the other crimson. Then they vanished without a trace as we switched to another area backstage, where we're greeted by the sight of four people...

The first is the easily recognized Shinji Uchikawa, still dressed in his gear from the pre-show match he was in earlier in the night. Behind him stands Jonathan Collins.

The second is another Japanese man, with medium length dark hair. Behind him stands the familiar Papa Arino.

Third in line is a woman with long brown hair, dressed in a light hooded sweatshirt. Behind her is Jaime Alejandro, dressed in his gear for his impending match with Brett Sands.

And fourth is a young man, dressed in a suit with blonde hair. There is nobody standing behind him, but he does have a smirk on his face.

In from the left side of the screen walks...White Phoenix. The appointed Commissioner of (R)Evolution Wrestling looks to Jonathan Collins, then Papa, then Jaime, nodding at each before turning to the camera.

White Phoenix: Before you stand four of the top students of the most recent class of the (R)Evolution Dojo. Each has proven themselves worthy, both in the ring and out, of their presence here tonight. In one month...we'll be having the first event for (R)Evolution Wrestling...complete with the first round of a tournament to crown our first champion. These four, the peak participants of the class, were chosen by a panel of trainers and guests, to receive a first round bye in that tournament.

He motions to Shinji.

White Phoenix: Shinji Uchikawa has already made quite an impression in EXODUS. In his time in our development camp, he has proven to have great work ethic, and a continued desire to improve himself.

Taking a step, Phoenix is now in front of the second man.

White Phoenix: A student of Papa Arino, Shozo has shown the discipline required of Arino's greatest students. His heart and mind are one with his body, and he has excelled in our training sessions.

Another step, and on to the third; the only woman of the group.

White Phoenix: Devan Whitmore has traveled the independent circuit, and now finds herself under the tutelage of Jaime Alejandro. Her love of professional wrestling is undeterred, and her thirst for knowledge is unequaled.

Finally he steps up to the last man in line...the suited, blonde man.

White Phoenix: Brando Martial, despite his...brash attitude...has proven quite possibly the best in-ring wrestler in the training sessions. His charisma is undeniable, his talent is equal to that of our best students.

He takes a step back, taking center stage.

White Phoenix: In a few short hours, the remaining eight competitors will be named. However, these four, as they stand, will meet in a tag team contest. Also, we will be providing the semi-finals of a Tag Team Title Tournament. This is the future of EXODUS. This is the future of professional wrestling. Welcome...to (R)Evolution Wrestling.

And with that, we cut back to Dick and Seth.

Dick Morosi: (R)Evolution Wrestling is the next step for promising EXODUS stars. Shinji Uchikawa will be featured heavily on the program, which you can stream live at EXODUSPro.com when it airs! You never know, we may even end up Gaora if we're lucky!

Seth Ericson: Let's not kid ourselves, Dick.

Dick Morosi: Stranger things, my friend. For now, we have a huge match to open the show! It's a semifinal for the Honor Cup! The San Diego Bay Title is up for grabs when Jimmy Riley defends against Fiona Rourke, Savannah Taylor, and Kira T. Zeppeli...let's go to the ring!



David Zinkus: The following contest is an Honor Cup Semi-Final Match and is scheduled for one fall with a thirty-minute time limit!

The lights dim at the sound of what seems to be machinery or something similar chugging away with more electronic distortions coming through, seemingly destroying the reception on the EXOTron before the it seems to give way to music and a hijacked reception of just a cold, emotionless face. The haunting same notes on a piano seem to repeat until drums and the remainder of the music kicks in for Akira Yamaoka's "Rain of Brass Petals (Three Voices Edit)" starts. The lights flash in unison with the piano as they pulse, when it just suddenly seems that in between pulses someone finally has the light reflect against them.

David Zinkus: Coming down the aisle...Kira T. Zeppeli!

A brief pause after vocals with more static and the haunting repetition of the piano chord before the drums pick back up and he begins to move again.



Reaching the ringside area, he examines the side of the ring facing the entrance before slowly lifting himself up and sitting on it. For a moment, he looks deep in thought before he closes his eyes and slowly rolls himself into the ring to sit in the corner as the lights keep pulsing. Removing the hooded sweatshirt he entered the arena with, he slowly sits and waits for his opponents and the match to start.

Dick Morosi: This could very well be the favorite in this match. He’s got wins over Sally Talfourd and Fiona Rourke, has been a San Diego Bay Champion, and has the shroud of G&M giving him utmost confidence.

Seth Ericson: And imaging the scene should he win. Nothing but misery and misfortune, basically a Chinese Buffet if you’ve ever been to one. Have you SEEN the portions? Terrible, just terrible.

As the opening guitar riff to "I'm Your Favorite Drug" by Porcelain and the Tramps begins to play, the lights fade and take on a brilliant pink hue.



David Zinkus: Introducing next, from Las Vegas, Nevada, she is the “Las Vegas Siren”... SAVANNAH TAYLOR!

The chorus kicks in as Savannah steps out from the back, her hands placed on her slender hips as she looks out over the crowd, most of whom are caught between jeering the blonde and showing their appreciation. She simply rolls her eyes as she casually walks down the aisle.



Once at the end of the ramp, she hops up onto the apron and spins around so her back is resting on the ropes. Placing her hands on the top rope, Savannah places one foot on the middle rope and effortlessly swings herself backward into the ring. Once inside, she flicks her hair behind her as she walks over to the corner, resting her back against the turnbuckle as the lights return to normal.

Seth Ericson: I’m the leader of the Savannah Taylor fan club. I’m the king of THAT bandwagon. Damn, she’d look mighty fine holding the Honor Cup Trophy at the end of the night.

Dick Morosi: Just want you to know kissing up to her won’t get you her number. A restraining order, yeah.

Seth Ericson: That’s fine, I know a good lawyer.

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



Jimmy Riley bursts through the curtain, 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 forty-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: A 2-1 effort in his block, winning it outright and capturing the San Diego Bay Championship. For a man who believes he’s underachieved and been overshadowed by others in his career he’s had quite the start to the year.

Seth Ericson: One I envy. He’s got the look, the girl, and the attitude. That’s a star right there Dick, a star if I’ve ever seen one!

The crowd starts to stir as lights go dim and familiar sounds start before drums kick in!

Are you rr--rrr-rready?
Are you rr--rrr-rready?
LET'S GO!

Dick Morosi: And speaking of stars...

Suddenly, the lights go purple and white around the arena as "One for the Money" by Escape the Fate starts to play and the smoke around the entrance way means only one person!

David Zinkus: Now coming down the aisle...FROM PORTLANDIA...SHE IS THE HEC WOMENS CHAMPION, AND THE STARDUST SERAPH, FIONAAAAAAAAA ROURKE!



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



As soon as the chorus begins, she springs to her feet, holding one finger up as lead singer Craig Mabbitt shouts "ONE!" over the PA System. Holding up two fingers in time with the song, she starts to walk down the ramp with a purpose. At three, she starts holding up three fingers, encouraging the fans to sing along and count with the song. Glancing at a young fan, she nods and touches foreheads with them as she pulls off a glow necklace from her neck and gives it to the fan. As the chorus repeats, she flips off the hood and hops up onto the apron. Once she looks out and surveys the crowd, she turns to face the ring before springboarding over the top rope, flipping over it and landing down on her knee, hand touching the mat as if she landed like a superhero! Quickly heading to a corner, she climbs up and once again holds up one finger to the air to get the crowd into everything. Looking back at the people in the ring, Fiona starts to remove her hoodie and look ready as she mentally prepares herself for the match.

Dick Morosi: The Ace of EXODUS, the newly dubbed Stardust Seraph, current HEC Womens Champion, a former International and World Champion. She’s taken the wrestling by storm and is one of the EXODUS originals that paved the way for some of our younger stars and definitely put the company on the map. Victories over the likes of Johnny Cannon, of Magnus Gunner, Jerry Matthews, has turned back LEGION, and every other obstacle. Will she recapture her glory tonight?

Seth Ericson: She better or all that hype you just built up for her will be all for nothing.

The stage was set, the four superstars stood in their corners as those packing Korakuen Hall chimed, chirmed and buzzed in anticipation for a high octane contest. The four of them were battling for an opportunity to get into the Honor Cup Finals, and more importantly, a chance at competing for superstardom. For Jimmy Riley it meant redemption. For Kira Zeppeli it all was about vanquishing his foes and feasting on the anguish that would come because of it. For Savannah Taylor it was her golden ticket to the promised land, where she could prove to the EXODUS faithful and the best wrestling crowd in the world that she wasn’t all looks. And for Fiona Rourke, this was the second phase of her long journey back to the World Title, back to Main Eventing, and back to solidifying her position as the ACE of the company. The tension in the arena was completely palpable, and all four of them were almost jumping out of their skin as they awaited the first move.

Dick Morosi: This is it Seth; these four competitors have made it to Battle Without Honor and Humanity. They’ve survived this long, outlasted all the others that started off this quest, and now a trip to the Honor Cup Finals hangs in the balance in what should be an instant classic.

Seth Ericson: Thanks for pointing out the obvious Dick; what I want to know is which one of these four is going to have anything left when they take on the International Champion. That one will be for all the marbles.

Dick Morosi: I don’t think they’re worried about that Seth, they’re too focused on the here and now. Jimmy has the most experience of the bunch. Savannah has the advantage of being cunning and unpredictable. Kira is a monster and has been a wrecking ball of destruction since he first stepped foot in the company. Yet there’s no overlooking The Stardust Seraph, the former World Champion with the best win/loss record of the past year.

Seth Ericson: Dan Arnouil just gave the signal, that’s the bell Dick! It’s time to nut up or shut up for these four!

*DING! DING! DING!

Fearlessly, Kira charges across the ring towards Fiona; the Seraph dodges with a quick side-step, then extends her arm out and catches the mysterious brawler by the left hand before turning inwards of her body to bring him down with an Arm Drag which she floats over into an armbar. With the battle now underway the Las Vegas Siren is left anticipating Riley’s attack, yet is unable to stop the kick that crashes right into her chest and sends her backpedaling several feet into the ropes. Jimmy, expecting her return, clasps his arms around her body as she rebounds back to him, using the momentum to flip her into the air and back down to the canvas with a Tilt-A-Whirl Slam. The Risen Star immediately goes for the pin, however Taylor was having none of it, wriggling free from his clutches and proving to be deceptively elusive. She rolls away following a series of stomps to the midsection, then slides out of the ring to recover.

Dick Morosi: And Savannah has been disposed for the foreseeable future.

Seth Ericson: She’ll have plenty of time to fix her mascara now, because it’s running, and pretty badly at that. And Prince Kamijo once again retains his title as the Undisputed Champion of wrestling while wearing Cover Girl makeup.

Meanwhile, Kira had regained his stance and he and Fiona were engaged in a punching spree. Furious flurries of haymakers, forearms, elbows and Flair chops flying every which way, the crowd going crazy in response. Zeppeli gets the upper hand with a nice forearm shiver, then connects with a back elbow to take out Jimmy Riley just as he tried to interrupt - then returns to floor Fiona with a stiff Clothesline that almost takes the former World Champ’s head clean off her shoulders. Having gained control in the early goings, Kira focuses his attention on the downed Riley. He lifts him up to a vertical base just to plant a knee into his solar plexus, then a second, and finally a third to expel the air from his lungs. The former San Diego Bay champion follows up with a brutal forearm to the jaw, but Jimmy shakes it off to retaliate with a stiff left, right combination that staggers his adversary. The Ohioan quickly connects with a European Uppercut to further force the issue.

He lands another, making Kira retreat even further, now nearing the ropes. Zeppeli throws his hands up, trying to block or parry what is being thrown in his direction. He manages to catch Riley’s forearm, parrying it to the left, giving himself a window of opportunity which he takes full advantage of. He swings a blind right hand, connecting on the right side of Jimmy’s jaw, sending the Ohioan staggering back. Shaking the cobwebs, Kira regains his vision in time to grasp a hold of his foe and launch him into the nearby corner. He charges in like a train off the rails, but Jimmy has sense enough to get out of dodge as he circumvents the attack - Zeppeli impinges the turnbuckle with a resounding thud. With his chest caved in, G&M’s mysterious despair feeder turns around - playing right into Fiona’s hands. Picking her spot, she dashes across the ring then exhibits her athleticism to land a somersault elbow. As she moves out of the way, Riley comes in with a vile elbow of own his own that sends spit and teeth flying into the front row. While the dazed, punch-drunk Zeppeli staggers out of the corner, the two lightweights charge the ring and come off opposite ropes to take the villain down with a High Low Double Team Combination.

Dick Morosi: Project Mayhem may bring an arsenal, but The Marauders are bringing the fight here to Korakuen Hall. What chemistry and teamwork right there!

Seth Ericson: That answers the question of would we see these two work together. I’ll be taking bets now on who stabs who in the back. My money’s on Riley. The Hollywood types are always backdooring people.

Dick Morosi: You mean, backstabbing?

Seth Ericson: Either way, it’s not a pleasant feeling.

Fiona and Riley turn to each other, and the on and off tag team partners ball their fists in preparation from a strike from the other - yet their confrontation is cut prematurely as Savannah Taylor reaches into the ring to trip Rourke at the feet and drag her out. She quickly tosses The Seraph into the barricade, and marvels in the acute agony her adversary suffers through, before charging forward to maliciously drive her boot into The Seraph’s mug with a vile Yakuza Kick - the force behind the blow sends two thirds the way of the Triple Crown right over the barricade and into the crowd! Back inside the ring, Riley quickly goes for the cover on a downed and dazed Kira.

“ONE!”
“TWO!”

Seth Ericson: Close but no cigar. Question Dick, if Kira loses, won’t he be disgruntled? Does that mean he’ll you know, paw at himself like a dog?

Dick Morosi: I don’t know, but I’d reckon that sort of behavior is only suitable for Animal Planet.

Zeppeli somehow kicks out, slightly frustrating Riley who climbs to his feet. He lifts the Californian to his feet, but has his Irish Whip attempt turned on him as Kira launches him into the corner where Riley collides harshly into the unforgiving turnbuckle sternum first. Making his way into the corner, Kira quickly lifts the Ohioan onto the top turnbuckle. The former San Diego Bay Champ takes a moment to regain his breath and bearings before climbing the turnbuckles, intending to eradicate and eliminate the seasoned veteran, and of course gain sustenance from his anguish. Riley however appears to have plenty of fight in him as he repeatedly blasts his antagonist in the cranium with stiff and brutal back elbows which eventually sends the recipient of said blows crashing and burning to the mat. As Jimmy tries to stand, the Las Vegas Siren slides into the ring and immediately charges at the ropes to pull them and cause her foe to lose his balance. The Risen Star trips and crotches the turnbuckle as a consequence, before falling back into a Tree of Woe left to dangle precariously.

With a cocksure grin on her beautiful visage, Savannah dashes to the adjacent corner, blowing kisses to the crowd before charging back at Riley. From his position the world is completely topsy turvy, and the helpless Vet can only watch as Taylor propels herself into the air. While airborne, she brings her knees in, holding them in her chest and keeping them there as she remains in the atmosphere, almost defying gravity itself. As she nears the canvas, she extends her legs - her boots violently clash against Riley’s face with stupendous authority, malice and precision. The force of the incapacitating maneuver reverberates throughout Korakuen Hall as The Risen Star collapses from the turnbuckle and lands face first on the canvas.

Dick Morosi: Hesitation Dropkick! Did you hear that impact Seth? They felt that one all the way back home in San Diego. Good God!

Seth Ericson: That registered a 4.2 on the Richter Scale Dick.

Dick Morosi: Do you really think it’s wise to be making earthquake references in JAPAN of all places Seth?

Seth Ericson: Hey, if anyone has a problem with it, they can kindly message me on twitter because I will not be around to face the backlash in person. I don’t get paid for that!

The Siren crawls toward Riley’s motionless body before hooking his legs for the pin.

“ONE!”

Seth Ericson: Savannah’s on top!

“TWO!”

Kira suddenly grabs her leg and drags the Nevadan off The Risen Star before covering him himself.

Seth Ericson: OOP! Kira’s on top, they’re switching positions. It’s like the playboy mansion in here, cue the kinky monotone music!

Dick Morosi: Seth, a little professionalism, PLEASE!

“ONE!”
“TWO!”

Just before three Riley is able to roll a shoulder over to break the count. Dismayed and angered by Jimmy’s resiliency, Kira quickly climbs to his feet before lifting his opponent to a stand and immediately tossing him out of the ring. Now alone with Savannah, he looks to focus his attention on her - except he turns around to meet his fate in the form of a stiff kick to the chest. There’s another one where that came from, and a third too, but just when things seem to be pointing up for the Nevadan, Lady Luck gives her the cold shoulder as Kira catches the leg then pulls her in to float her over into a Capture Suplex. The ring quakes slightly from the impact as Savannah lands supinely with a thud. While Taylor lies on the canvas holding her back, Kira quickly scrambles to his feet to drop a knee on the aforementioned area, after which he follows up with a vile kick to the ribcage which leaves her convulsing in pain. He admires her traumatized state, and throws his arms in the air to rejoice as boos quickly fill the venue.

Seth Ericson: Kira just had what we culinary types like to call a sample. Savannah’s writhing in pain, giving him quite the tasty despair filled treat. Morsels Dick, we start with morsels and work our way UP the menu!

Dick Morosi: I was half expecting a sexiest pun or something. I’m impressed Seth, ten dollars says you can’t keep it up.

Seth Ericson: Challenge accepted!

Dick Morosi: Its a shame I must resort to such tactics to get you to call this match with a semblance of professionalism and integrity.

Meanwhile, The Stardust Seraph climbs onto the apron, unbeknownst to the mysterious madman. When the opportunity presents itself, she jumps right back into the fray by pulling herself onto the ring ropes before springboarding to leap onto a turning Zeppeli’s shoulders - only to bring him down with a dexterous Hurricanarana. Both superstars scramble back to their feet with Fiona immediately charging into the ropes; the former World Champ rebounds off of them, then runs straight at Kira who lifts her up in a Tilt-A-Whirl, only to see The Seraph exploit the momentum and display her uncanny body control to spin around to apply a front facelock and drop her nemesis with a brilliant DDT. Zeppeli immediately rolls out of the ring following the maneuver, as he drops to the floor to try and overcome his head trauma. Fiona triumphantly comes to a stand, receiving a round of applause from the crowd, with a number of “Seraph” chants mixed in for good measure.

Before she can continue her celebration, Savannah Taylor reminds her that she needs to have eyes in the back of her head. The Nevadan quickly clubs her over the back of her skull, then turns her into the ropes to lay into her with a series of forearms and elbows before pulling her off the ropes. Fiona strafes to block the Irish Whip, turning back to land a sickening elbow smash, followed by a palm strike to the chest that stops Taylor’s heart, leaving her helpless to absorb a Dropsault that sends her falling through the ropes and out of the ring. Having scored with her trademark combination known as “Clear Eyes, Full Heart, Can’t Lose”, Fiona begins to hype herself up, and looks to feed off the energy of everyone in attendance as she repeatedly claps to further rile up the audience. They follow suit to showcase their exuberance, and support while Taylor and Zeppeli slowly begin to stir and come to a stand on the outside. Fiona jogs to the adjacent set of ropes. After a brief delay she quickly runs forward, then gracefully and effortlessly somersaults over the ropes to land on both her opponents - effectively taking the Nevadan and the Californian out in one fell swoop.

Dick Morosi: Fiona is hungry, she’s determined, and she’s got Korakuen Hall in the palm of her hands. Listen to this ovation!

Seth Ericson: It’s hard not to love her when she’s doing stuff like THAT! What a Tope Con Hilo!

On the other side of the ring, Jimmy Riley has his sights set on his surroundings once again, unaware that he missed the past series of events that just unfolded. Peering around from shoulder to shoulder the only thing that really seems to catch his sights is the form of the Strong Style Seraph as she lifts Savannah Taylor into the ring. Like a weasel he slithers into the squared hell, then waits for Fiona to climb onto the apron before charging and leaping onto the adjacent ropes. He leaps off into the air towards her, quickly throwing his legs out to deliver an artful Dropkick that lands flush in the kisser, sending E-Pro’s Ace flying off the apron and down to the floor below. Coming back to a stand, Riley merely grins from ear to ear, then shrugs his shoulders rather nonchalantly before locking his eyes on Savannah. With her struggling to get to a vertical base he slowly backs into the corner and pulls himself up to the top rope. Perched on the mountain’s summit, he patiently waits for the Nevadan to show her pretty face, and when she does, he dives off the top rope and lunges forward to connect with a European Uppercut taking her right back off her feet in emphatic, innovative fashion. The devastating strike leaves the seductress sprawling, prompting Riley to go for the cover as he quickly executes a lateral press.

“ONE!”
“TWO!”

Dick Morosi: Savannah’s demonstrating that resiliency. Jimmy can’t believe that wasn’t three there, and I’m finding it hard pressed to blame him.

Seth Ericson: That was a calculated risk too. He took out Fiona to try and steal the match, and now that he’s failed he’s got nobody to look after him. Dammit Riley, you should’ve milked that partnership for as long as you could then took half like my wife did.

Dick Morosi: I’m pretty sure that’s NOT how it works in the ring Seth. Exactly I’m absolutely positive.

Seth Ericson: It worked for my wife and we weren’t even legally married. Damn you Harvey Birdman.

The crowd applauds Jimmy’s offense as The Risen Star catches his breath and bearings. The Ohioan proceeds to stalk over the downed Taylor, then pulls her up to a sitting position. Riley sinks a knee into her back, then follows up with a vile kick to that same area to strip the air from the Nevadan’s lungs. Savannah helplessly rolls into the corner, looking to get some much needed breathing room from the man who’s beating her like a tired cliche. As she tries to pull herself up in the corner, Riley hastily charges in before staggering back upon receiving boots to the face for his efforts. Befuddled and disoriented, he turns around and leans over in a desperate attempt to clear the static in his vision, yet unfortunately for him he’s right where Kira T. Zeppeli needs him to be. Like a vulture picking remains, G&M’s resident enigma slides into the ring under the bottom rope, then charges forward to land a ravaging knee strike to the temple. The sickening, THUNDEROUS blow to the cranium immediately reduces Riley to a mere knee as his head hangs askew as a consequence for absorbing the barbarous attack.

Licking his chops after delivering “The Appetizer” Kira wastes no time in continuing his momentum. A seemingly concussed Jimmy Riley gives no resistance as the former San Diego Bay Champion lifts him to his feet and bends him forward against his midsection. Upon reaching around the Ohioan’s torso, Zeppeli lifts his opponent upside down before dropping down to the canvas to continue his strategy of attacking the head by thrusting The Risen Star’s skull into the mat. The Piledriver renders Riley completely indisposed, allowing the deliverer of the vicious maneuver to go for the pin and perhaps pick up the biggest win of his career to date.

“ONE!”
“TWO!”

Seth Ericson: Savannah with the save! She’s not just a dumb blonde after all.

Dick Morosi: What made you think she was one to begin with?

Seth Ericson: My cousin Ricky told me the time tested formula; the bigger the puppies, the smaller the brain and from the looks of it she’s no Albert Einstein.

Dick Morosi: You and your cousin are both imbeciles, and you owe me ten dollars. And don’t act like you don’t have the money because I know when you get paid you cheapskate.

Relieved that she had saved the match, Savannah begins to unload on Kira with stomp after stomp until the perplexing star battles his way to a knee. Angered, Taylor belts his chest with a vile shoot kick, but he merely absorbs the blow with a slight flinch. Clearly flustered, she fires another kick yet it yields the same results as Zeppeli appears to be utterly impervious. Refusing to believe what she’s witnessing, the Las Vegas Siren delivers a third sickening kick, yet this time Kira bellows like a savage beast and begins to climb to his feet to leave the Nevadan in utter disbelief. Her confusion however doesn’t last long, as she replies with a fiendish cry of her own before landing a malicious Roundhouse Kick straight to the cranium to drop her adversary right back to a knee. With no time to waste, Savannah runs the length of the ring to the ropes, then bounces off to build up a head of steam as she charges straight at her battered, and bruised foe. She steps onto Kira’s raised knee, then swings her other leg, bending her knee and blasting the degenerate straight in the face. Both bodies scatter onto the canvas following the withering blow while the crowd is completely enraptured by the turn of events.

The perfectly executed Shining Wizard flattens Zeppeli, and with every ounce of strength she can muster, Savannah Taylor lifts up to drape an arm across his body. Arnouil slides into position to make the count, and it looks like the match is all wrapped up.

“ONE!”
“TWO!”

Just as it seemed Savannah was on her way to punching her ticket into the Honor Cup Finals, Fiona Rourke comes out of NOWHERE, dropping her forearms across Taylor’s head to break up the pinfall.

Dick Morosi: Savannah was a mere second away from springboarding into the Main Event tonight Seth.

Seth Ericson: Yeah but she didn’t thanks to Fiona Rourke. And right now, I can guarantee you that two ahem, MEN are watching this match intently.

Dick Morosi: Lifer and Lasiewicz of course have their eyes glued to this very contest. One of them will be facing the winner, or what’s left of them to be exact in the Honor Cup Finals.

Seth Ericson: Actually, I was talking about Minoru and his wife, and if you’ve seen the pictures, that’s all the reason you need to never EVER go to Mexico.

All four competitors slowly begin to stir as the masses of humanity packing the arena give a standing ovation in response to what has been an incredible opening bout. The combatants retreat to opposite corners, and that’s when it hits them - the cheers, the clapping, they had put on an astounding performance thus far, but it was clear that all of them would have to search deeper for something that would put them over the top. The match had reached the twenty minute mark, and it was time to find out who wanted it more, who had enough left in their tanks to win this all important match.

Seth Ericson: The crowd is at a fever pitch, and we’ve hit that 20 minute mark. We’re coming down to the wire here Dick, and I have no idea who’s going to win. I’d have an easier time trying to make a baby after a vasectomy.

Dick Morosi: I’ll tell you who Seth - the superstar who has THAT extra gear, THAT extra reserve tank and the MOST will to win. This is about Main Eventing Battle Without Honor or Humanity. We know what the four of them have gone through to get here…well, THIS is the time where you earn your keep.

Riley looks up from a bent-over position across the ring, Kira stood opposite to him, Fiona adjacent, and Savannah opposing. Without a moment more to waste, all four competitors collide in the center of the ring, with Riley tangoing with Zeppeli and the two divas going at it like cats and dogs. The men exchange lefts and rights, the women follow suit and it’s utter pandemonium as the crowd thoroughly enjoys the slugfest taking place right in front of them. Kira and Savannah get the better of their exchanges, winning their battles in decisive fashion as they back their counterparts into the ropes thanks to a barrage of punches - with an odd elbow thrown in here and there. They both attempt Irish Whips, only to have them thwarted by their opponents who in turn send them charging into the ropes. As they rebound in stereo fashion, they come straight at their targets, both of them lunging forward with everything they’ve got. Riley and Rourke both have a counter ready; the former takes Zeppeli off his feet with a textbook Drop Toe Hold, then floats it over into the Half Boston Crab while the latter grabs one of Taylor’s flailing arms and uses it to drag her down to the canvas before quickly slapping on a Fujiwara Armbar.

Seth Ericson: SUBMISSIONS EVERYWHERE! I REPEAT… SUBMISSIONS EVERYWHERE!

Dick Morosi: What a match… Riley and Fiona are pulling out the stops here playing a game of oneupmanship if you will.

Kira screams from the torque being placed on his leg, and reaches out for anything - ropes, salvation, HUMANITY? He plants his hands into the canvas in a pushup position, and lifts his chest off the mat, releasing a strained groan. Riley leans back more, and Kira drops to the canvas. Tenacious, he pushes up once again, finding all the willpower he can muster to drag he and the two hundred and forty-five pounds that’s sitting on his back to the ropes - and he DOES get a hold of the ropes. Meanwhile, Savannah continues to yell and shriek in pain as she tries to break free from the excruciating hold by any means necessary. It doesn’t work though, as her resistance merely incites Fiona to tighten the hold further. Taylor faces the ropes, looking for some salvation. In her panicked state of mind, she finally slithers close enough to hook her foot on the bottom cable, much to Rourke’s chagrin. Anguished and exhausted, The Marauders release their victims simultaneously, dropping down to figure out their next moves while Taylor and Zeppeli tend to their fresh wounds and injured appendages.

Dick Morosi: What a sequence of events right there! I didn’t think EITHER of them could hold on, but they did. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen something like that Seth, that was an incredible moment right there!

Seth Ericson: And it looks like we’re down to Riley and Rourke. They’re on their feet, they’re heading toward each other. This is a showdown years in the making!

The Marauders turned enemies stand toe to toe, yet unsteady on their feet. The crowd claps and cheers as hard and as loudly as they can as the two high-profile stars exchange words that are inaudible to the audience. With a nod, Riley launches into Rourke’s jaw with a sickening forearm shiver that echoes throughout Korakuen Hall, causing the former World Champion to fall back, only catching herself against the ring ropes. She rebounds, and flies in with a leaping forearm strike of her own, staggering Jimmy. She follows up with kicks to the shin and hamstrings, yet just as she’s building up a head of steam she has it stifled by a debilitating Spinning Back Elbow that almost cracks her skull right down the middle. Riley follows that with another strike, this time a ROARING ELBOW, and then he connects with “ALL The Shine” his step up enziguri that knocks the Strong Style Seraph into the ring cables. The Risen Star follows her, making sure she is still out of it as he plunges his knee into her midsection. Afterward, he grabs her arm and slingshots her across the ring. She rebounds to return fire with a basement Dropkick, taking Riley off his feet. Jimmy winces and pulls himself up to a knee, only for Rourke to slip behind him and wrap an arm around his neck, whilst grasping his opposite arm and placing it on Riley’s shoulder to lock in a close-knit Sleeperhold. She tightens the hold, and swings his head from side to side to maximize his discomfort, and the Ohioan immediately shows signs of fading.

He coughs as his eyes begin to open with a glazed look. His hands grab Fiona’s forearm that she’s using to choke him with, and digs his fingers into the arm. Rourke grunts, and loosens up the chokehold - this allows him to move his head to the arm, and sink his teeth into her. She releases a yelp, and both competitors come to a stand following Jimmy’s underhanded, and uncivilized tactic - yet Fiona continues to apply the hold. Riley rolls Fiona’s arm, releasing the sleeper, and pivots lower, turning toward her, his shoulder plunging into her waist whilst he wraps an arm around her torso to lift her up into a Fireman’s Carry.

Seth Ericson: He’s about to get on Jonathan’s Blacklist, because he’s about to execute the move that earned him the San Diego Bay Title in the first place. The Star is about to RISE… HIGHER!

Dick Morosi: Look’s like Light ‘Em Up is in the cards. Jimmy Riley finally has the perfect hand!

Riley appears moments away from the greatest victory in his EXODUS career, and stops to savor every bit of it. He cracks a supercilious smile, before finally tossing Fiona into the air. BUT SHE COUNTERS! She exploits the momentum of the throw to twist her body and somehow land straddling his shoulders. And she quickly pulls him down with a Hurricanrana, sending him crashing to the canvas and rolling out of the ring. The patrons go nuts in response to another one of her Houdini tricks as she scrambles to the her feet. She leans over the ropes, half relieved she was able to pull a rabbit out of the hat, half exhausted and enervated from the grueling contest. Wiping sweat and hair from her vision, she turns around. Only when the Strong Style Seraph peers up does she experience the sight of Kira Zeppeli’s outstretched arm come crashing across her collarbone and voice box, instantly sweeping her weight off her own feet and inducing her into vaulting to the mat with an incredibly STIFF Lariat!

Dick Morosi: Kira just turned her inside out! One more strong move like that from Zeppeli, and we could very well have our first TWO time San Diego Bay Champion for the alumni!

Kira comes jogging to a stop after sending Fiona ass-over-tea kettle, lightly leaning on the top rope in front of him and peering coldly and proudly over the audience. It appears as if the madman is well in the driver’s seat, and just a few more minutes away from having the biggest despair feast he’s ever seen. However, Savannah Taylor has other plans. She’s back on her feet, and she’s more determined than ever to score a win. She quickly sneaks up behind him, and grabs him around the legs before lifting him up to toss him over the ropes, sending him crashing unceremoniously down to the floor below. With that gesture, it just leaves her and a severely beaten Fiona Rourke. She practically loses control of all her faculties as she stalks the Rising Seraph, and the crazed look in her eyes tells it all. She has a disturbed expression on her face, one of a woman desperately trying to unseat her fellow diva as the top woman in EXODUS, if not all of professional wrestling.

When Fiona comes to she quickly turns her around and doubles her over with a toe kick, then grabs her arm and performs a top wristlock. She then steps over the captured arm, looking to prepare for the Siren’s Song, however Rourke still has some gas left in the tank and more importantly, tricks in her bag. She slithers and breaks free from Savannah’s clutches, then shoves the Nevadan into the ring cables. Flustered, Taylor turns around and charges with reckless abandon, flailing her arm in a wild Clothesline attempt - but she misses as Fiona ducks and makes a beeline for the ropes. The Strong Style Seraph handsprings into the cables, then comes back up onto her feet before bouncing into the air and spinning to swing her leg and crack the Las Vegas Siren right in the cranium, knocking her out cold on impact. Savannah’s body immediately goes limp as she lands lifelessly on her back, the crowd igniting with a roar of approval as the former World Champion scrambles to make the cover.

Dick Morosi: SHINIGAMI! SHINIGAMI! With the unforseen suddenness of thunder, as quick as it is deadly, she got ALL OF THAT! And he’s the cover!

“ONE!”

Seth Ericson: There’s Riley, he’s sliding in the ring.

“TWO”

A battle worn Jimmy Riley indeed crawls into the ring, and with every fiber in his being he dives at Fiona….

“THREE!”

…but is a second TOO late!

*DING! DING! DING!*

David Zinkus: The winner of this match, and the NEWWW San Diego Bay Champion… THE STRONG STYLE SERAPH… FIONA ROURKKKEEEE!

WINNER (and NEW EXPro San Diego Bay Champion): FIONA ROURKE

"One for the Money" starts and Fiona gets to her knees, looking up to the sky as she points upward, the referee handing her the title. Zeppeli is down and out, Taylor is down, and Riley rolls outside of the ring, looking frustrated as he places his hands on his hips. Fiona gets up and takes the title, kissing it as she holds it up for the fans as Riley reaches for a chair outside and slams it against one of the ring posts. In absolute anger and frustration, he gets into the ring and looks ready to slam it again as Fiona turns around to look at him. Her music continues as she looks crestfallen that her success has come at the expense of one of her best friends and soon to be family. She mouths "I'm sorry," at the former champion, who looks angry and ready to strike with the chair...before he drops it and comes over, hugging one of his best friends, his tag team partner, and future family. The two exchange whispers before he lets go and raises her hand in victory as he walks off frustrated and dejected.

Dick Morosi: SHE HAS DONE IT! Fiona Rourke is going to the finals of the Honor Cup, and she's doing it as the first ever Triple Crown winner in EXODUS Pro history!

Seth Ericson: This has to be a bittersweet moment for Fiona. She had to do it at the expense of one of her best friends. Nobody wanted to see Jimmy Riley and Fiona Rourke end like that, and who knows where Riley goes from here?

Dick Morosi: These are questions we'll see answered in due time. For now, let's head backstage.

As the scene cuts to the backstage area, we see Blake Jones, already dressed in his ring gear...and hanging upside down from a bar that has been placed above the door frame. His eyes are closed and he remains shirtless, his hoodie on the ground beneath him.

“Don’t fall down, mate, it would hurt ya.”

Blake drops down from the bar, landing on his feet.

Blake Jones: Well, it’s nice to see you here...Sylar.

The camera pans to the direction Blake is looking at and we see former San Diego Bay champion and Blake’s tag team partner, Sylar Drake. The Japanese audience cheers for the Newcastle Young Gun so loudly that a smirk comes across Blake’s face when he hears them.

Blake Jones: Looks like they missed you around these EXODUS parts.

Sylar Drake: And I missed EXODUS. I just wanted to say good luck in your match tonight. I know you’ll do good.

Sylar extended his hand to Blake, who shook it. The young Brit smirked as he suddenly turned on his heels and started walking away.

Blake Jones: Wait wait wait… that’s it, Sylar? You’re not gonna--

Sylar Drake: I have lots of thing to do now in a very limited time. Two weeks, Blake. Wait just two weeks and we’ll have all the time in the world to talk.

As Sylar made his leave, Blake just shakes his head and smiles as the scene fades to the ring.

The bell sounds, but before Strike can even celebrate he’s bumrushed by Zack Lifer. The International Champion begins to put the boots to him, and the crowd immediately boos. Magnus Gunner motions to the back and out comes Kira Zeppeli who rushes right to ringside and slides in to do the psychotic Michigander’s bidding. He and Lifer begin to stomp a mudhole in Strike who writhes in pain and agony.

Dick Morosi: This is a sick, heinous assault! Gods & Monsters are going to tear him apart!

Zero McHannon is not going to allow them to. He rolls into the way to come to strikes aid, and immediately spears Lifer to the canvas before beginning to unload rights and lefts on him. Zeppeli pulls him off, only to receive rights and lefts for his troubles, as the fiery World Champion desperately tries to defend his company against the terrorist like threat that G&M poses. He quickly disposes of Kira with a STIFF Clothesline, only to turn around into a the freight train that is Ryuji Kamigawa, as the Monster in White merely slams into him with his full frame knocking McHannon down to the canvas like a bad habit.

Seth Ericson: Good Lord he’s like a wrecking ball of destruction! They’re too many, it’s like trying to fight a pack of wolves.

Chris Strike scrambles back to his feet, and charges Ryuji from behind, clubbing him repeatedly overhead to try and take the big man down. Before he even has a chance to chop the massive behemoth down Lifer and Zeppeli cut him down. They isolate him in the corner and begin to lay into him with punches and stomps. The God of Thunder fights valiantly, but the numbers game is too much for him to overcome. Ryuji looks out to the outside where Gunner watches on intently, merely spectating - the expression on his face is detached, as he holds a callous indifference. He finally acknowledges the melee that’s happening, as a nod to Kamigawa spurs the large man into action. With Lifer and Kira holding Strike in the corner he quickly charges in with a splash, using his massive frame to compress the small Brazilian and crush him.

Dick Morosi: Gods & Monsters have ripped apart the EXODUS heroes tonight. Chris Strike and Zero McHannon have fought tooth and nail to turn back this menace, but they’re just TOO much.

Seth Ericson: And this is what awaits EXODUS should Magnus Gunner win the championship in two weeks. And speaking of the devil, look!

The aforementioned ring leader of the sadistic circus known as Gods & Monsters slowly enters the ring. He looks over the bodies of his adversaries, and then glances at his three horsemen, his sons of plunder who have destroyed them. With a microphone in his hand Gunner lowers his head before turning to face the camera.

Christum Furor: I hate this business and I hate all of you.

The crowd boos vehemently, causing Gunner to stop. His facial features perfectly convey the look of a man having gone off the rails. His emotions are completely on his sleeve and all out in the open now as he brushes back his long black hair to reveal his eyes which burn with hate and cold malice.

Christum Furor: It’s repeated goddamn ad nauseum by the bad guys in wrestling that they hate everyone. Hell, I’ve probably said it at least a million times this year. But when I say it, it’s legitimate. So why am I here? Why do I lace these boots up every two weeks, why do I choose to come out here and do what I do? You see, I entered this business because I loved the concept of people cheering for you and paying you to hurt other human beings…. other human beings that picked on me in school, or didn’t invite me to their parties, or didn’t think I was cool enough. I had a few friends as a child, but for the most part I was a goddamn outcast. Even my father hated me. So I decided to drop out of college a few years ago and chase this idea that I could finally be SOMEBODY in this business. I could finally feel like I belonged. I would finally be loved.

The fans are silent right now, unsure how to feel about what Gunner’s saying.

Christum Furor: Then in 2012 I found the Universal Wrestling League. I came to Tennessee with my girlfriend Haven Silver right by my side. She believed in me, believed I could fill all the pain I had in my soul if I could be a champion in the business that I wholeheartedly loved so much. But this business, it didn’t love me back. No matter how hard I worked, there was always somebody telling me that I would never be good enough. There was always somebody like Jonathan Collins trying to hog the spotlight and glory because he was looking for his final hurrah, because he wanted to go off into the sunset on top. There was always somebody like Jacob Davies, or Justin Brooks, or even Rob F*cking Daniels who never paved their own way; they just buddied up with one another and thought I was just as shallow as the person they kissed up to to get their jobs in the first place. There was always somebody like Josh Eagles who was always in the World Title picture because he was a symbol and idol to the children. He had his action figures, his merchandise, he did his fundraisers. There was always a Troy Vincent who couldn’t wrestle his way out of a paper bag, but was awarded all the championships and glory because he kissed ass.

He kissed Jay Jefferson’s ass because that’s how you make it in this business. That’s how you become a star, that’s how you become an ACE of a company like Jon likes to say. It doesn’t matter if you can wrestle, if you can cut promos, if you give your heart, sweat and tears to this business. This business is run by jackasses in hundred dollar suits and silk ties who want their egos jerked, and if you don’t kiss their damn feet you don’t get out of the midcard.

The angered titan climbs to his feet and begins to pace around the ring.

Christum Furor: When I was in that company, I constantly heard this, that and the third. People always told me how good of a match I wrestled, that I was advancing my career every week I stepped out in that ring and gave my heart out. But was I ever pushed, did they ever give me a chance? No. You know what I got in the UWL, a slap in the face. I had people telling me that they were going to do THIS and THAT for me, but they never did! All I ever got was people pulling pranks on me in the lockerroom. All I ever got was people pulling their weight around to keep me down. I was good once, it was THIS business that turned me into what I am. It is THIS business and it’s corruption that filled me with so much hate, so much disdain. It’s because it’s filled with opportunistic leeches and people who will stab you in the back the very moment it serves them. It was THIS business that destroyed my life, and made me KILL the woman that loved me. She left me because I had become so f*cking depressed, so self-destructive, so INSANE that she COULDN'T STAND THE SIGHT OF ME!

Gunner stops to look out at the masses. Most of them are silently and intently listening, while others simply boo because they’ve been conditioned to.

Christum Furor: And this company is no different. This business, all it does is eat away at you. All it does is take and take until you have nothing left. That’s it. Ten, fifteen, twenty years from now you end up in a god-forsaken wheelchair. We all will. Strike, Zero, Collins, Lasiewicz, and even your beloved Fiona Rourke.

The crowd begins to cheer at the mention of their favorite star’s names, causing Gunner to stop and scowl as bitter, grotesque and hateful a scowl as he physically can.

Christum Furor: And when we’re sitting in our vegetative states, or eating out of feeding tubes unable to walk again or use our f*cking legs, none of you people will be there for us. None of you will write a goddamn letter, or come to say hi. No, we’ll overdose on pills or hang ourselves, or murder our families because we’ve suffered too many concussions and WE JUST NEED TO STOP THE NOISE SO WE CAN HEAR OURSELVES THINK! Your heroes, they’re all idiots if they think otherwise, if they think you care about them, if they think THIS business can be saved. Wrestling is beyond saving. This entire business is rotting away from the inside like some sort of potent black acid. This business is the reason some of us are afraid to look in mirrors, or hug our children. It’s because we know we don’t deserve to live. It’s because GOD hates us. That goes for Collins… for FIona… for McHannon… for Strike… for Lenton.. for Lasiewicz, FOR BLAKE JONES! FOR COCHRANE! FOR CANNON! FOR TALFOURD! FOR ALMASY! AND FOR ME, GODDAMN YOU FOR ME! For every single man woman and children that have stepped into a ring.

Gunner leans over the ropes and looks directly into the camera.

Christum Furor: Look at me. I’m a physical and mental wreck. I have a scar on my back from glass panes. I have bruises that still hurt me from chair shots, and sledgehammers, light tubes and steel tables. I was put through a burning table a month ago. And you know what was on the line? Tag titles. I nearly lost my ability to live for a FIVE-HUNDRED DOLLAR PIECE OF GOLD. It’s not worth it. This business has NOT been worth destroying my personal life. Wrestling, all it does is turn your friends against you. It turned my brother Kliff Ulysses into a corporate stooge because someone like Jonathan Collins told him the right way to do this is to be a mindless sycophant. It made me KILL HIM! After No Church In The Wild I looked myself in the mirror late that night, all destroyed, half-dead while doctors and nurses surrounded me. I closed my eyes and realized something. I realized that I don’t love it. I don’t love getting beaten and battered like an early Christian in Rome. I don’t love this sport..

Magnus retreats from the ropes, back away, his eyes gazing through the crowd, his allies in the ring, and the carnage they’ve created.

Christum Furor: But… BUT I hate you all. I hate EXODUS. I hate that moron Nicholas Gray and everyone else behind the scenes that help he and Jonathan run things. I hate Seth Ericson and Dick Morosi with their horrible annoying voices. I hate the people in #SectionB who try to vindicate their lives and live vicariously through ME. I hate all those people in the lockerroom who pretend to be good natured when all their actions claim otherwise. I hate them for making people like me out to be a bad guy because I don’t believe in bowing down and letting other people’s hypocritical codes of ethics govern my life when they can’t even regulate themselves. And most importantly, I hate all of YOU watching at home because despite everything I’ve done for this company, all you’ve ever done is throw it back in my face.

The eloquent madman takes a breath before continuing.

Christum Furor: Take a good look at the ring right now. This is the future. This is what awaits you all, because in two weeks I’m going to destroy this company. In two weeks I’m going to do what I’ve always done, and that’s burn everything down. THIS business, and THIS company have taken EVERYTHING from me. Now I’m going to return the favor. In two weeks, I’m going to walk into Korakuen Hall and I’m going to run through everyone. This is a precursor of things to come. This WILL be the lasting image of Battle Without Honor or Humanity. I’m going to become the EXODUS World Champion, and all of you will bow down to me, and NOBODY will stop me. Not CHRIS STRIKE… NOT ZERO MCHANNON… NOBODY! EXODUS… All will NOT be well. ALL WILL BE-

Before he can continue, he is spontaneously interrupted by the sounds of “Aw Naw” (Remix) by Nappy Roots ft. POD. The curtains are suddenly pushes back as the crowd erupts with pandemonium. Out comes the Steve Lenton, The Big L who is completely displeased by what is transpired. He looks over the teeming masses of humanity who cheer and chant for his name, and then he points at the ring before making a slashing motion across his throat.

Dick Morosi: The Big L will not stand back. He will not be denied. He will not bow down to Magnus Gunner!

Seth Ericson: Yeah, but what can ONE man do?

Dick Morosi: He can fight, and you best believe that’s what he’s gonna do.

Magnus Gunner leans over the ropes, and along with the rest of Gods & Monsters, they stare out at the ramp where Steve Lenton shoots a glare right back at him. As the copyright information comes up at the bottom, EXODUS signs off with Lenton and Gunner locking eyes, and cold-blooded stares.

We come back from commercial, and the lights in the arena dim as smoke starts to fill up the entrance way and ramp as a piano begins to play. With the sign of smoke comes fire on the EXOScreen and then as the music stops, up on the giant video wall...

SINGLES MATCH
ADRIEN COCHRANE vs. SPIRIT Z



Suddenly, the music kicks back in for the remainder of the intro of "Through the Fire" by Day of Fire!



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

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

I'll see you through the flood,
See you through the fire,
See you through the storms-a-raging...

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



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

Dick Morosi: This is probably one of the more storied rivalries to ever hit the wrestling scene.

Seth Ericson: The optimistic good man in Adrien, and the slightly shade of gray Spirit Z. Back to the days of THW’s Live “incident.”

"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.

David Zinkus: His opponent, from Brooklyn, New York. He is SPIIIIIIIIIIRIT Z!

He shakes a few hands along 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: Those two have kept their eyes on each other since Spirit Z has entered the ring.

Dick Morosi: If there’s ever one man that Adrien can say that he dislikes, Spirit Z is that man.

You see both men walking up to each other, as they start jaw jacking ever so loudly. The referee starts up the bell and both men waste no time in throwing repeated right hands towards each other. Adrien starts up with a series of jabs connecting towards Z’s jaw. As he connects with a right, you see Z looking at him and screaming in his face. Then, he comes back with a series of jabs to Adrien’s jaw, stopping with a hard right to floor the Dropkick King. The crowd goes nuts as they see what kind of match is occurring here.

Dick Morosi: Well, for those at home who expected a good clean competitive match... That ship set sail.

Seth Ericson: I don't think they like each other...

You see Spirit Z pulling up Adrien to his feet and knocking into him with a hard European uppercut. Adrien moves back with a bit of a push, as Z hits him with another European uppercut. From here, The Dropkick King lives up to his name and gets the technical master in the kneecaps. Z goes down hard on the mat, grimacing in pain. As he goes down, you see Cochrane holding his jaw in a bit of pain. But he’s unable to drop down to the mat and put on any holds on his opponents legs. In fact, you still see the effects of the hard shots on Adrien, as he starts to wobble a bit. The referee checks on him, seeing it he's able to go, still.

Dick Morosi: And a few hard shots to the jaw.

Seth Ericson: And let's see if Cochrane still has his teeth...

Adrien waves off the referee and looks towards Z, who's also picked himself up off the ground. As he does, you see Cochrane running towards him, but Spirit Z goes airborne and connects with a flying clothesline. Adrian eats the arm hard and you see a slight flipover from the nimble one. As Adrien hits the ground hard, you see Z picking him up and putting him into a very tight sleeperhold. He keeps a seated position on the ground, as Adrien struggles to get any sort of footing to get to a rope. You see that Spirit Z has him locked in tightly as can be with the greatest of ease. And still Adrien struggles to get himself moving towards a rope.

Dick Morosi: And a textbook sleeper by Spirit Z...

Seth Ericson: And Adrien just went nighty-night.

The crowd starts yelling for Adrien to get himself towards the ropes, but Z has the sleeperhold cinched in as tight as possible. You see the referee going over to Adrien and looking for any sign of conciousness. As he does, you see Cochrane's head nodding off for a moment. So, the referee pulls up the arm and yells.

ONE!

The arm drops down quickly, as his opponent tightens the hold. He tries to keep it within a legal standing, but close to a choke as he can. As he puts on the pressure, you hear Section B chanting for Adrien to get up and fight. The referee looks at his arm one more time and lifts it up high in the air.

TWO!

The arm drops down once more, as Spirit Z expertly keeps the hold on his opponent. Adrien's eyes are fully closed now, but the audience keeps chanting for him to wake up and fight. Z shakes his head and keeps mouthing that this match is all over for Adrien. The referee lifts up the arm, for what looks like the last time...

THR...

You see Adrien holding his arm up for the crowd to see. The arena's noise level goes through the roof as you see The Dropkick King holding his fist in the air in a bit of defiance of his situation. Spirit Z looks incredulous as you see the look of shock on his face. Adrien shakes his fist in the air and starts stamping his heels down on the mat to bring himself back to life. Spirit Z feels himself being lifted a bit, as Adrien starts moving to his knees!

Dick Morosi: And Cochrane isn't out of this yet!

Seth Ericson: How the heck did he even stay awake for that?!!

Dick Morosi: Never count Adrien out yet!

Adrien is on his knees and you see him pushing back on Spirit Z with a series of hard elbows to his midsection. Z keeps the hold on, until Adrien gets back to his feet! As fast as he gets up, you see Adrien, put both hands over Spirit Z's head and dropping down on the ground for a hard jawbreaker. The technician springs upward in pain and falls backwards on the mat, as the crowd starts going nuts in that feat of escape. Adrien is holding himself up, trying to regain his lost oxygen. Taking in huge breaths, he starts looking towards his downed opponent. He takes off in a bit of a hurry and flips himself over for a running shooting star press!

Dick Morosi: And a variant shooting star press for the pin!

Seth Ericson: Cochrane with the pin! One, two, and kickout!

Z kicks out as hard as he can. You see the anger on his face as he gets to his feet. From there, he pulls himself up to his feet. Adrien also pulls himself up to his feet and both men start hammering each other again with the hard shots. You see the look in their eyes as they're both going on nothing but hatred and fighting spirit! As Adrien gets in a hard kick towards his opponent's right arm, you see Spirit Z wincing in pain for a moment. He comes back with a spinning roundhouse to Adrien's skull. You see Adrien taking a hard tumble, as the crowd goes into a state of shock. Spirit Z goes down to the ground for the pin.

Dick Morosi: And he tries to take his skull off with that well timed kick.

Seth Ericson: And this could be it for Adrien! One... NO!

Adrien kicks out with authority, as Spirit Z looks around in frustration. You can see his anger rising on his face. You see him picking up Adrien and steadying himself for a bit. As he does, he grabs Adrien by the arm and whipping him for a hard Irish whip. He attempts another clothesline, but Cochrane drops under and hits the other ropes. As he does, Z comes back around and readies for another hit, but gets Adrien diving towards him with both feet towards the chest! Spirit Z takes the shot hard and falls back on the ground, holding his chest!

Dick Morosi: A suicide style dropkick!

Seth Ericson: And Z is clutching his chest hard, Dick!

Dick Morosi: Spirit Z can't take too many hard hits to that area.

You see Spirit Z starting to clutch his chest in a bit of pain. As he does, Adrien starts looking over at the corner and nods for a moment. He vaults himself up to the top turnbuckle and looks down towards his downed opponent. You see the flashbulbs starting up as he jumps off swiftly. He takes that full rotation in the air and you see the back of the head further land on Z's chest. Spirit Z jumps up in a bit of pain and starts rolling around the ring a bit clutching his chest. As he does, you see Cochrane coming back over for his pin attempt.

Dick Morosi: Cochrane with Flight 182!

Seth Ericson: Is this enough?!! One, two... and just barely!

Spirit Z barely escapes the pin attempt, as he pushes off of Adrien. You see Adrien starting to get himself going even more. As he does, Z comes back with a huge roundhouse kick, but Adrien ducks under and comes back up with a head scissors attempt. However, Spirit Z catches it and slams him against the corner and picks him back up into a fireman's carry. He rolls forward and drops Adrien on his back hard. Adrien springs up in pain, holding his back. As he does, Z comes back around with a hard soccer kick to the chest. And with the prone Adrien, he dives down with a hard knee drop!

Dick Morosi: That vicious knee drop delivered with authority!

Seth Ericson: No way Cochrane gets up from that shot!

You see Adrien trying to spring up from the ground, but Z hits the mat with another pinfall attempt. As he hooks the leg, you see the pain on Adrien's face.

Seth Ericson: Adrien could be done here! But he just kicked out!

Adrien kicks out hard, but you see Spirit Z lifting Adrien back up. He stands up his rival and prepares him with for the carry over... You see him looking towards the audience, looking ready to flip himself and Adrien over for the finish. Instead, you see Adrien knee the man in the gut hard. For the brief second of lapse, Adrien pulls himself over and drops Spirit Z's neck on his shoulder hard! As Z is out from the impact, Adrien goes for the cover!

Dick Morosi: And Cochrane with the Adrien Cutter! One, two, and he's done!

David Zinkus: Your winner, ADRIEN COCHRANE!

Adrien Cochrane has his hand raised in the air from this hard fought victory. You see Jaime Alejandro running into the ring quickly from the back, as Adrien looks over at Spirit Z on the ground. Both men bump fists, and Jaime raises Adrien's arm in the air. You see both men looking out in the crowd, as they go to a corner and motion for the crowd to make even more noise.

WINNER: ADRIEN COCHRANE

Dick Morosi: The men who call themselves "The Fight Kings."

Seth Ericson: Cochrane and Alejandro... That's an odd couple...let's head backstage.

The shot opens on a stretching Fiona Rourke; reaching down, hands wrapped around a leg as she gets as flexible as possible for the upcoming ten-person main event tag match. However, after a second, an all-too-familiar pair of boots step into frame. Fiona glances over, sees them, and stands back up quickly to bring an exhausted Jimmy Riley into the frame, San Diego Bay Title slung over his shoulder.

Fiona Rourke: Jimmy!

She throws her arms around him.

Fiona Rourke: Great job out there, I knew you'd win that match!

Jimmy grins, but pries himself free of the hug after a simple pat on the back.

Jimmy Riley: Thanks, but now's not the time. You've got that big main event coming up...and then there's two weeks from now.

Fiona Rourke: I know! We both made it-

Jimmy Riley: And now we have to face each other.

Jimmy's somber mood has now finally sunk in to Fiona. There's a few seconds of uncomfortable silence as she realizes that.

Fiona Rourke: ...Yeah...but it's a four way. Us, Kira, and Savannah. ...Friends till the end?

Jimmy grins again as he pats Fiona on the shoulder.

Jimmy Riley: May the best one of us win! Good luck out there, Fi.

Fiona walks off, looking to round up her partners as Jimmy watches her. After a moment, he looks at his San Diego Bay Title, then back off in the distance.

Jimmy Riley: ...It'll be me, but she doesn't need to know that. Yet.

Cut to commercial.

The feed comes back from commercial to the offices of Christian H. Kane. Leaning back on his chair, feet up on his large marble desk Kane smirks at the camera before taking his feet off of the desk and leaning forward in his chair.

Christian H. Kane: Your fearless leader, well, interim fearless leader here - and I have a few announcements for you. Most of them you know, Heather Halliwell still blows dudes for money, Chris Strike still plays around in mud and Zack Lifer still is a child murderer, but these next few announcements are even bigger. First of all, I’d like it to be known that I am a man of my word, and I said that if Steve Lenton keeps up his dominance then he will be thoroughly rewarded with a title shot. In the interest of giving you fans the most entertaining iPPV main event in EXODUS Pro history, it’s official, The Big L will be competing for the title in two weeks time.

Kane nods and pauses, anticipating the crowds overwhelming positive reaction.

Christian H. Kane: And secondly...I don’t know what kind of fat neckbeards Nicholas Gray has employed here in the IT department, but clearly they suck at their jobs. That, or they’re busy letting Heather Halliwell OR Chris Strike suck them off AT their jobs. But I digress - Banks, you’re a good guy but if you want time on the show I’m running then you’re gonna have to work for that honour. So that’s what’s gonna happen, I’m putting you to work. You’re one of the best wrestlers in this business today, and I have the best mind for business in this profession today so in two weeks time you’ll be facing an opponent of my choosing. And if you’d like to know who this individual is...then you’ll have to log onto EXODUSPro.com to find out when the card is revealed tomorrow. Now if you’ll excuse me...I..uh...have to return some videotapes.

As Kane waves them away, the cameras fade out to Dick and Seth.

Dick Morosi: What a huge announcement! Steve Lenton, minutes before he faces Jaime Alejandro, finds out that he's guaranteed a World Title shot in two weeks!

Seth Ericson: Yeah, but that's coupled with Kane giving that pothead Brandon Banks a match! On the plus side, that tool bag has no idea he's facing until tomorrow afternoon!

Dick Morosi: Banks asked for it with all the egging and taunting he's done to the stars of EXODUS, I hope he gets his comeuppance against one of them in two weeks!

Seth Ericson: A boy can dream.

Dick Morosi: In the meantime, we've got a huge match next! Steve Lenton and Jaime Alejandro is next! Let's go to the ring!

SINGLES MATCH
JAIME ALEJANDRO vs. STEVE LENTON (EXODUS Pro Tag Team Champion)

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

I want to be a good man, I want to see God
I want to be faithful but I know that I’m not
I want to be a good man, I want to do right
I don’t wanna be a criminal for the rest of my life

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

David Zinkus: Coming down the aisle, he is from San Antonio, Texas, weighing in at 275 pounds...HE IS THE STRONG STYLE SAINT, JAIMEEEEEEEE ALEJAAAAAAAAAAANDRO!

Everything that I've done before
Has brought me back down to my knees
I’m crying out to you, Lord
It’s getting harder and harder to see
If there’s good left in me?
Is there any good left in..ME!!!

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

Dick Morosi: Jaime Alejandro has been nothing short of impressive since his arrival in EXODUS Pro on behalf of the now defunct SHOOT Project, and he's on a collision course with Brett Sands in two weeks!

Seth Ericson: Yeah, but I think he's got a bigger problem tonight. Brett's a tough kid, but...nobody's been on a bigger roll than THIS guy.

The sounds of cheers are heard around the arena. The fans wait in anticipation, almost eager for him to come out. The lights flash a royal blue and suddenly "Aw Naw" (Remix) by Nappy Roots ft. POD blares. The crowd begins to sing along with the opening part. Lenton busts through the curtains. The fans bust into a defying scream of cheers. Lenton is talking to the crowd jumping up and down on the stage, walking from one end to the next. The camera zooms in on his face, "Listen to that!" Lenton exclaims with a smirk. He walks up the ramp with a slight strut, looking out at the crowd.

David Zinkus: AND HIS OPPONENT! He is from Hampton, Virginia, weighing in at 257 pounds...He is one half of the EXODUS Pro Tag Team Champions...THE BIGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG L! STEVE LENTONNNNNNN!!!!!!!

He stops short and looks around for a moment. He takes it all in, listening to the fans cheer for him. Some of the fans hand touch him. Stephen slaps the hands and continues to make his way up the ramp with his eyes glued on the arena again. Once he makes it to the apron, he looks at the ring and then climbs up on it quickly and stands up on the turnbuckle. The lights around the arena then turn into a spotlight. Lenton's eyes turn towards his opponent eyes locked on directly, staring intensely.

Dick Morosi: The meteoric rise of Steve Lenton has been nothing short of incredible! Steve Lenton, one half of the Tag Team Champions is now facing a date with destiny when he goes for the EXODUS Pro World Title in two weeks at Battle Without Honor Or Humanity!

Seth Ericson: But Jaime Alejandro has a lot to prove in this match! He's been impressive in his three appearances, but he's really going to need to dig deep on this one!

The fans continue to cheer as the song begins to break down. Lenton turns back to the crowd, forms a smirk on his face and lifts his arm in the air with enthusiasm. He wipes his mouth and leaps down from the turnbuckle and stands in the ring, circling it. He decides to hit the turnbuckle again standing on it lifting his right arm in the air the same way he did. He takes in the cheers, looking around slowly. Stephen leaps down and stands in his corner, getting ready to fight. The two of them start to stare one another down, both of them starting to look at each other with intense glares and then the bell rings! Referee D'Artis Johnson calls for the bell, and the two run out of the gate, immediately hammering one another with rights as they both try to gain an immediate upper hand! Lenton quickly gets it and starts to whip Alejandro to the corner, coming in with a massive kenka kick! Lenton starts to whip him to another corner, but Alejandro reverses and comes in right after Lenton with a massive clothesline! Lenton steps out and Alejandro catches him right away with a massive powerslam, starting to scream out as he gets himself ready to go! Alejandro starts to back up as the referee begins to count for Steve to get back up as Jaime waits, nodding as Steve starts to stir again. After a moment, the two start to circle again, once more meeting to hammer one another with forearms and stiff shots, the two of them trading blow after blow. Lenton once more starts to get the upper hand as he backs up Alejandro to the corner, starting to give him stiff chops to the chest in rapid fire!

Dick Morosi: The Big L is on fire tonight!

Seth Ericson: Considering how those chops feel, so is Jaime Alejandro.

Lenton keeps hammering with chops, but Alejandro tenses up his chest and quickly grabs Lenton to reverse their positions and put Alejandro in the corner, starting to now nail Lenton with rapid fire chops, all quickly before The Strong Style Saint starts to hammer Lenton with headbutts, driving him down and down until Lenton is seated in the corner before he backs up and runs towards Lenton with a huge facewash kick! The crowd is stunned at the fire in which Alejandro has been using to come out of the gate, and he instantly pulls Lenton out of the corner for a cover!

ONE!






TWO!





KICKOUT!

Alejandro nods as he grabs Lenton by the head to bring him up to his knees before Alejandro drives another forearm to his face, all before backing up....HUGE SHINING BLACK TO STEVE LENTON! Jaime quickly realizes Lenton's back to his knee, but Jaime is ready...CRACKERJACK KICK! He quickly grabs Lenton...KILMER COMBUSTION! Alejandro is looking great ton---AND LENTON JUST STANDS UP! HE JUST GETS RIGHT BACK TO HIS FEET! He stares down Jaime and quickly comes after him quickly himself! He starts hammering him with forearms to the face, more and more vicious shots before a kick to the midsection, he hooks up Jaime...AND HE'S JUST HOLDING HIM THERE!

Dick Morosi: LOOK AT THAT DISPLAY OF POWER!

Seth Ericson: Steve Lenton is a goddamn machine!

Finally, after about ten seconds, Lenton falls back, delivering the suplex. Lenton kips up, but Alejandro starts getting up himself, neither man willing to falter! The two continue to trade forearms before they back up, colliding with double lariats! The two of them are down on the mat, both of them trying to recover as the referee begins to count!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

Lenton starts to stir...

SEVEN!




EIGHT!





Now Jaime...












NINE!


AND THE TWO QUICKLY LEAP AT ONE ANOTHER, BRAWLING ON THEIR KNEES! Each of them is trading blows with one another! The two of them are going at it, giving it all they've got! The two slowly start working their way back to their feet! Jaime misses a huge lariat attempt, which has him stop in his tracks as Lenton goes for one of his own, but Jaime ducks...GAME CHANGER: AUDIBLE! LENTON STOPPED AND HIT THAT HUGE LARIAT AS HE STARTS BACKING UP AND WAITS......

Dick Morosi: HE'S GOING FOR IT! HE'S SETTING IT UP!

Alejandro gets to his feet....3:00! LENTON HOOKS THE LEG!

ONE!









TWO!

















THREE!

The bell sounds and "Awnaw" starts to play again as the crowd absolutely erupts at the sound of the music and the sight of The Big L winning!

David Zinkus: HERE IS YOUR WINNER, STEEEEEVE LENNNNNNNTON!

WINNER: STEVE LENTON

Dick Morosi: Steve Lenton has done his damndest here! He has survived Jaime Alejandro and he's moving on to Korakuen Hall! He's got a date with three other men and destiny in two weeks!

Seth Ericson: Unfortunately, he might just find out destiny has the wrong number when it comes for him!

Dick Morosi: Only time will tell. Meanwhile, let's go backstage!

The show goes to the backstage where we see Spirit Z walking down a hallway going towards the ring. Whilst walking, he is wrapping his athletic tape around his right hand. As he is multitasking, someone shouts out for his name. Spirit Z looks back.

Brett Sands: Ay, Spirit Z!

Brett Sands, who is already dressed in his ring gear, quickly walks over to Spirit Z. They stand within arm’s reach of one another, Z slightly looking up at the taller man.

Brett Sands: I saw what you said out there earlier tonight…

Spirit Z half-smiles. He is slowly putting his athletic tape on now.

Spirit Z: And I meant every word that I said. Because I want everyone to know what’s in store soon. I don’t know if you agreed with the other roster that believes I have no chance in defeating Adrien in a few minutes? But you’ll be wrong. Because, Adrien’s been made out to be the hero. But he’s never faced his nemesis yet. And he’s about to face it. And in this story… The villain wins.

Brett Sands: That’s jumping to conclusions there. Whether you believe it or not, I’m not with the roster on that prediction. I think people need to see that the “top dogs” in this company can be beaten by more than other “top dogs”. I managed to make a dent in that assumption a couple of weeks ago. Kira T. Zeppeli dropped Fiona Rourke on her damn head a few weeks ago as well, adding to that. And if you back up what you say tonight and I shake up that main event, then they’ll notice the “top dogs” can be beaten by someone else. And who knows?

Brett shrugs his shoulders.

Brett Sands: Perhaps you may become a top dog in the process. Perhaps you can shut a fucker up here and there. Good luck out there.

Spirit Z finally gets done wrapping his tape.

Spirit Z: Heh. Luck. Something that’s nonexistent. Luck is for people who need a reason to have faith. I don’t need luck. All I need is you to realize. But….. thanks. Good ‘luck’ to you as well.

Spirit Z then smacked Brett’s shoulder and walked off. The camera shows Brett watching Spirit Z go off, a smirk appearing on his face.

Brett Sands: I was hoping you’d say that...

Brett puts his dark green hood over his sandy blonde hair before walking away as we cut to commercial.