Evolution 30

20 Sep 2018

FedExForum, Memphis, Tennessee (seats 18,500)

Sleep With One Eye Open

The camera cuts to what seems to be an empty locker room, completely black save for one torch smack in the middle of the room, sending out its flickering light onto the face of The Shadow, deeply hidden within the hood of his robe, his gaze focused on the single flame, a faint smile playing around his mouth.

The Shadow: Oh Silas, Silas, when will you learn? I know that your confidence seems to be made of steel or it is sheltered by the blissful ignorance of reality. I am not sure where you read fear into my actions at Wrestle Fest, but while you brought on a strong fight, it is only thanks to the Passenger, because you yourself are too weak to do it on your own. I am not afraid of you or him or whatever other personality might be lurking within the depths of your aristocratically silver-spoonfed ego.

He faintly chuckles as he brings up another figurine of a nobleman, turning it in his hand.

The Shadow: Congratulating MJ was not about me or my ego, it was about sportsmanship, but the meaning of this word is lost on you. If I wanted to make it about myself, I would have attacked her to be able to make sure I would get the spotlight, but that is more your department, isn't it? Even against MJ, if I may jog your memory, unless your internal SD card has been formatted by the Passenger. It is you, who seeks the attention and the spotlight, who feels this obsessive need to spew forth your hollow and self aggrandizing phrases to anybody who wants to hear them. Well, "want" might be a big word...

He stops spinning the figurine for a moment, then with a swift movement breaks off its head. His gaze shifts to the camera.

The Shadow: Sleep with one eye open, my Canadian friend, because you never know what, or who, might be lurking in the shadows... Bask in the limelight while you can, when the blind chicken will finally find its corn, because soon it will be lights out...

Suddenly the torch extinguishes and the doom is thrown into darkness and the only sound that can be heard is the pieces of the figurine hitting the ground and footsteps walking away.

Glasses Up

The FedExForum in Memphis, Tennessee is rocking as the sold-out crowd for the 30th edition of CWF’s flagship program, Evolution, comes into view. Other than a few Elvis impersonators we also see people dressed up as some of our superstars, almost like a cosplay party is happening, costumed up like MJ Flair, Mia Rayne, The Shadow, even the "new" version of Silas Artoria. As the camera pans over the crowd several signs pop up again as well:

"Let me exorcize you, Silas!"
"I wanna be your Sledge Hammer"
"Glass Ceiling is about to be broken!"
"Mia is still among us!"
"Kemsey Ramesy = Psycho Ninja!”
“MJF – At Last our champion”

The shot eventually fades, and transitions over to the commentary duo of Jim Gunt and Mike Rolash, seated at ringside.

Jim Gunt: Well, hello again everybody and welcome to the THIRTIETH episode of CWF Evolution! I’m Jim Gunt, alongside Mike Rolash, and Mike - we are on the heels of a phenomenal WrestleFest IV, but tonight will be no walk in the park as three championships are up for grabs!

Mike Rolash: Right you are Jimbo – apparently being a new champion earns you a night off, as new CWF Champ MJF is the only title holder who doesn’t have to defend her strap tonight!

Jim Gunt: Well, be that as it may, we’ve got a great night of action ahead of us, so why don’t we get things started with our opening conte—

Gunt’s thought is interrupted by the lights in the FedExForum suddenly going out. Suddenly, the jubilant atmosphere in Memphis shifts, as “Broken Dreams” by Shaman’s Harvest starts to play. A solitary spotlight illuminates the entranceway as the Glass Ceiling, Freddie Styles, Duce Jones and Jarvis King, emerge. The three are dressed to the nines, and each wear their titles proudly on their shoulders. The three men meander to the ring, slowly, without a care in the world.

Jim Gunt: Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be so quick to assume that things can get going – these guys haven’t been out to stroke their own egos!

Mike Rolash: You wanna watch your tongue, Jimbo? You’re looking at the best that this industry has to offer!

King, Jones, and Styles all enter the ring, illuminated by the sole spotlight, and stand center stage. In unison, the three extend their right index fingers to the sky, meeting in the middle, bringing the lights back up. The Memphis crowd is rapturous in their response, hurling abuse at the three men as Jarvis wanders over to Ray Douglas and acquires a microphone.

Jarvis King: I suppose that there are some questions that need answers, aren’t there?

The crowd boos, but which causes Jarvis to laugh. He adjusts his tie and leans forward on the top rope, boring a hole through the camera with his eyes.

Jarvis King: It’s not that you people deserve an explanation, or – even more laughably, we owe you a damn thing – but nevertheless, there are questions, and I suppose we should provide answers.

Jarvis leaves his perch and wanders over to the set of twine that is immediately in front of the commentary table.

Jarvis King: See, it was something that you said, Mike.

Mike Rolash: Me?

Jarvis King: Yeah, you. See, I know that you’ve got the best intentions possible, but as I was re-watching some of WrestleFest with the boys, here, a certain phrase stuck out above all others. You said, “it looks like it’s a change in management,” when Duce, Freddie and I took it upon ourselves to make a change to The Glass Ceiling. The fact is, Mike, it couldn’t be further from the truth.

King turns around to face his stablemates.

Jarvis King: The Glass Ceiling was formed under the auspices of being a partnership. A true collection of equals. What it took me no time at all to recognize was that…Jace Valentine is not a man who creates equals. Jace Valentine is not a man who allows for such comparisons. No, in Jace Valentine’s head, it was always going to be “The Glass Ceiling – Jace Valentine, featuring three others.” Could you abide by that Freddie?

Jarvis hands the microphone off to Styles.

Freddie Styles: No, I could not, Jarvis. There’s no damn way that I’d be competing for the Impact title tonight if Jace Valentine was in charge. That guy was nothing but ego, and he had to go.

Duce is the next to take the mic.

Duce Jones: F’sho. Simple fact is, Jace Valentine didn’t get kicked out – he got voted out. He was removed before he became a problem.

Jarvis takes the microphone back.

Jarvis King: There may be strength in numbers, but frankly, the three of us are stronger without Jace Valentine, and that’s a fact. Which brings me to my next point…

King raises his Paramount title, high in the air.

Jarvis King: I stand before you the longest reigning singles champion in the CWF. I’ve beaten and bested monsters and legends, upstarts and freaks, to retain this title for months now…and what respect has it earned me? Simple fact is this – I deserve something more. So, with that in mind, I’m going to make it official – I am laying down a challenge for the CWF Wor—

With that, the FedExForum comes alight as the roar of a motorcycle interrupts King, followed by the classic riff of “Evenflow”. Moments later, from behind the curtain emerges Harley Hodge, to a huge ovation! Hodge puts his hand up, which quiets his music, but he struggles to speak over the roar of the Memphis crowd as he brings a microphone up to his lips to speak.

Harley Hodge: About that, Jarvis. I think that you and I both know that before we were interrupted, your little title reign was in deep trouble. You and I both know that were it not for outside interference…I’d be standing here, your new Paramount Champion!

The Memphis crowd likes the sounds of that, but King rolls his eyes.

Jarvis King: Well, you’re not. So what’s your point, Hodge?

Harley Hodge: My point is this – you and I both know I’m owed a rematch, so why don’t we do it right here, right now in Memphis!

The FedExForum explodes at this idea, and Jarvis, initially bullish, looks a bit more nervous as The Accelerator begins to make his way down the ramp.

Jim Gunt: Oh my god, a WrestleFest rematch right here?!

As Hodge slides into the ring, The Glass Ceiling bounds out and beats a hasty retreat up the ramp to a chorus of boos. Jarvis, perhaps a bit shaken, raises the Paramount Championship above his head as “Evenflow” kicks back on, leaving Hodge to pose in the ring.

Jim Gunt: Well, it may not be tonight, but it’s only a matter of time until Harley Hodge gets his hands on Jarvis King!

Christer "Fenrir" Lundmark vs. Festus Brewer

Mike Rolash: Well, it will be another triumphant victory for the true King!

Jim Gunt: Yeah, whatever. So our opening match features Christer “Fenrir” Lundmark--

Mike Rolash: Christa Who?

Jim Gunt: ChristER. Lundmark, remember at Wrestle Fest? The match on the pre-show?

Mike Rolash: I didn’t see that.

Jim looks at Mike incredulously.

Jim Gunt: Are you serious?

Mike Rolash: Yeah, I only got there like 5 minutes before we were coming on.

Jim Gunt: And you didn’t bother watching it after?

Mike Rolash: Nope, why should I?

Jim Gunt: I can’t believe you…

Mike Rolash: What? Do you watch the shows?

Jim Gunt: Well yeah!

Mike Rolash: Wow, ladeeda, Mr. Teacher’s Pet.

Jim Gunt: Ugh. Anyways, ChrisTER Lundmark, is facing off against a local Memphis talent, Festus Brewer, who is already waiting in the ring.

A young man, about 6 feet tall, some extra padding around the middle, looking very confident at the hometown crowd.

Ray Douglas: Ladies and gentlemen, the first match is scheduled for one fall. First contender, from Memphis, Tennessee--

The crowd gives a cheer for the hometown hero.

Ray Douglas: --Festus Brewer!

Some more cheers as he raises his hand to acknowledge the fans.

Ray Douglas: And his opponent, hailing from Kiruna, Sweden - Christer “Fenrir” Lundmark!

The crowd is not sure what to do but the lights going down and the howling of a wolf over the system brings their undivided attention to the entrance, where a single spotlight illuminates the entrance. The pounding rhythm and guitar of Amon Amarth's "Victorious March" begin to blare over the PA while a quick sequence of Vikings is flashing across the tron, a Drakkar cutting through the waves, a group of warriors disembarking onto the beach. As the song fully sets in Fenrir steps through the curtain onto the stage, long blond hair and beard braided and blue and black war paint across his face. He is wearing a long leather coat with an image of Mjölnir, Thor’s hammer, on its back. 

Jim Gunt: And THAT is he, Mike.

Mike is staring at the tall man with an open mouth.

Mike Rolash: Uuuuhhhh…

Fenrir stops at the top of the ramp, with a hard gaze at his opponent before making a straight walk to the ring, paying no heed to the fans around him, climbing onto the apron and over the top rope, walking right up to Festus, who does not look as confident anymore.

Jim Gunt: So he had a match at the pre-show of Wrestle Fest and now has one at Evolution, so someone must be seeing something in this guy.

Referee Danny Davison separates the two and checks them for weapons as Lundmark takes off his coat and motions for the bell to be rung. Immediately Festus takes his heart into both hands and runs at Christer, trying to shoulder block him, but he might just as well have tried to ram down a concrete pillar, because the big Swede barely moves an inch. Instead he grabs Festus, lifts him up and BODY SLAM!

Mike Rolash: Whoa, I think I heard a seismic sensor go off over there!

But Christer is not done. He picks him up again, grabs him for a German suplex and sends Festus right into the turnbuckle!

Jim Gunt: That was Asgard’s Fall! This young man is going to regret ever having signed up for this!

Mike Rolash: No kidding, he’s sending him into the ropes now!

Jim Gunt: What a pop-up power bomb, this was Ragnarök, this has to be the end!

And as if on queue, he hooks one leg.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Ray Douglas: And the winner is - FENRIR!

Jim Gunt: This was one impressive main show debut here, they are still trying to scrape Festus from the mat here!

Mike Rolash: What is Fenrir anyways?

Jim Gunt: I believe in Norse mythology he was the wolf that would swallow the sun and the moon, setting off the Twilight of the Gods, Ragnarök.

Before Mike can comment on it, Lundmark is motioning for a microphone.

Fenrir: CWF - you have a problem. A big problem. Guds skymning har börjat! The twilight of the gods has begun! BY ODIN!

He throws the microphone down as “Victorious March” starts again and makes his way back up the ramp, most fans seemingly too scared to hold out their hands.

Update on Mia

Azrael is sitting on a bench, eyes closed, fingers crossed in his lap, deep in throught and prayer. His eyes open as The Shadow walks past.

Azrael: Brother Shadow. It is nice to see you. I can tell your heart and soul are very heavy with the worry over the well being of Sister Rayne. If the weight on your heart becomes too much, please reach out. I am here for you, just like I am for everyone. 

The Shadow's body language shows confusion and disbelief, almost as if this new Azrael is a little off his rocker.

Azrael: Brother Shadow, I can put your mind, heart and soul at some ease. I have been to heaven and have asked about Mia, her soul is not there. I have gone and looked into Hell, and I haven't seen her soul there either. I have wandered purgatory, looking for souls that need directions, and her's wasn't there either. That tells me one thing, that her soul and body are still one. She is still here amoung the living, and she will be found. God isn't done with her and has greater plans for her here on Earth still. Don't lose hope.

The Shadow walks away confused and unsure of the message delievered. Azrael bows his head, and resumes his meditation.

Jarvis King (c) vs. Kemsey Ramsey

Jim Gunt: OK, this new Azrael is even more cryptic than he was before, but how much of this can we take as truth?

Mike Rolash: Nothing's official until they find the body.

Jim Gunt: Really, Mike, really?

Ray Douglas: This next contest, set for one fall, is for the CWF Paramount Championship!

“Cowboy” by Kid Rock begins playing and the CWF faithful in Memphis rise to applaud their fellow southerner. As the camera settles on the curtain, it opens, revealing the CWF’s original high-flying cowboy Kemsey Ramsey! Ramsey smiles widely at the Memphis crowd and tips his hat as he makes his way down the entrance ramp.

Ray Douglas: Introducing first, the challenger! He hails from Dallas, Texas. Weighing in at 244lbs, this is KEMSEY RAMSEY!

Jim Gunt: Well, a chance at a bit of revenge for Ramsey, as his big return was spoiled at WrestleFest!

Mike Rolash: Seriously, Jimbo? He gets “a chance at revenge” and a title shot? How in the world is that fair?

Jim Gunt: Well, a lot of people might argue that Jarvis King being Paramount Champion isn’t all that fair…

Just as Ramsey makes his way into the ring, the lights around the arena cut out.

And during the few moments that we have left, we want to talk, right down to earth
in a language that everybody here can easily understand

“Cult of Personality” by Living Colour starts playing, as a single spotlight illuminates the entranceway, which is filling with smoke. And, in an elegant script, words are scrawled across the screen:

Some men are born great
Some achieve greatness
But only one man is Jarvis J. King

With that, Jarvis King steps out into the entranceway, flanked by Elizabeth Bates. Jarvis taps the Paramount title around his waist before he raises his right index finger in the salute of the Glass Ceiling, which brings the lights up.

Ray Douglas: And his opponent, from Halifax, Nova Scotia! Accompanied to the ring by Elizabeth Bates, he weighs in at 240lbs. He is the reigning and defending CWF Paramount Champion, The Icon, “East Coast Excellence” JARVIS J. KING!

The Memphis crowd jeers The Icon as he makes his way to the ring lazily, sliding under the bottom rope and unhooking his title as he climbs the middle turnbuckle and raises the belt high above his head with a self-assured grin on his face.

He drops down, hands the title to Big Denny Davidson, who raises the strap high above his head to illustrate that the title is up for grabs. Jarvis doesn’t wait for the bell, though, as he rushes across the ring and hits Ramsey with a big Yakuza kick in the corner! The big Texan crumples a bit from the impact, and Davidson belatedly calls for the bell.

Jim Gunt: Well, good god – leave it to Jarvis King to --

Mike Rolash: To be the ring general that he is and take an early hold of the proceedings? Yeah, Jimbo, I agree.

Jarvis unhooks his boot from the top rope, allowing Ramsey to fall forward. King wastes no time, and presses his advantage by aiming a big kick at Ramsey’s ribs. Kemsey coughs and sputters from the impact before rolling to a corner. The big Texan uses the ropes to steady himself and gets to his feet; unfortunately for him, Jarvis King is immediately behind him.

Jim Gunt: STRAIGHTJACKET!

Indeed, King grabs both of Ramsey’s arms, crosses them across his chest, and arches backwards with a picture-perfect Straightjacket Suplex. Holding onto the hold, Jarvis bridges for the pinfall.

ONE…

TWO….

THREE!

The bell rings, and “Cult of Personality” kicks back on as Ray Douglas makes the official announcement.

Ray Douglas: Your winner, and STILL CWF Paramount Champion, JARVIS J. KING!

Mike Rolash: How's that for a statement of strength!

Crack in the mask

The picture fades into the catacombs of the FedEx Forum.

???:...I'd be careful where you walk, douche...  

Freddie sighs as he's bumped into, none other than, the commissioner of CWF. Ataxia shoves Freddie back up against the wall after he's bumped into him.

Ataxia: I mean...I could take that as an attempt to attack staff. I'd hate to have to suspend your ass for the next oh...two...three...six months because of your “attitude problem”. Or maybe I should do what I did to Jace. Maybe I should just ban you outright from tag team competition with your little friend. Or even better...ban you from all title competition and force you to fight local talent for the rest of your pathetic contract term. 

Ataxia isn't smiling as he leans into Freddie.

Ataxia: Or maybe I'll just break your god damn neck right now, find some honey, fire ants, and some kerosene and make you an asshole cocktail...I haven't decided yet.

Freddie looks up at the commissioner with a weird look on his face.

Freddie: Sure...anything you want. I’m sure Mia would like it if you showed some fire and burned me up.

Ataxia: Tread. Carefully. Or you might not like what happens next.

Freddie: What’s there to like? You hate me, don’t you? It’s ok to hate me....I do do a bad thing...no worse than you’ve done in your career...but hey, all sinners aren’t loved, are they? You want to take this belt from me so bad, and you want Dorian to get the pounds of flesh that you won’t come get yourself. But it’s ok, Tax. I hate me too. The only real “forsaken” here tonight is me. I am nothing from nowhere. None of you respect me. You’d just as soon fire me as look at me, right? And that’s ok too. So since you can’t fight me and beat me...go ahead and say everything you want to say. I won’t stop you

Ataxia: You couldn't stop me if you had an instruction manual assclown. You're right. It'd be easy to just fire you. Get rid of you, Duce, and Jarvis. It'd be so simple. And no one would grieve the loss. Because deep down Freddie...none of you are worth anything to this federation. However...if I fire you. You don't get what's coming to you. Like it or not...you're going to learn your lesson...and I promise you...it'll be permanently etched in your fucking body for all time. You hate yourself? Good. Pull an Azrael...Just remember across the street not down the lane. Now get out of my face before I book you against little people luchadores until you're fifty.

Freddie looks down, away from Ataxia, seemingly broken, the slightest of tears forming in his eye...

Freddie: Nothing you can do to me will ever hurt like how I’ve hurt myself. But if you really want me to die...I’m sure that would make her happy.  I could give you that.

Freddie slowly slides away from Ataxia and walks slowly down the corridor, almost dragging himself back to his locker room, like tonight is the end...like he’s already lost the fight.

Tonight, With Silas Artoria

Two armchairs in low lighting. More intimate and calming than the rowdiness that comes from a CWF show. Sitting in the left side chair is Tara Robinson, looking calm but unsure.

Tara Robinson: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome...

She takes a deep breath, apprehensive for a good reason.

Tara Robinson: ...Silas Artoria.

Silas walks valiantly into frame with no sense of self awareness, clearly confident in his presentation. He sits down on the chair opposite and gets comfortable, smiling as Tara does her best to keep a straight face.

She swallows uncomfortably as the two make eye contact.

Tara Robinson: Th—thank you for joining me today—

Silas holds out his hand, asking for it to be shaked. He looks at her with sincerity, without even a hint of hostility towards her.

Silas ArtoriaSorry...we good?

Tara looks at Silas. Should she shake it? On one hand the man was giving an apology for an act committed against the beloved interviewer, but on the other hand she was out of action with broken ribs, caused by Silas? It’s not something anyone would easily forget, and it’s clear from her body language that she is extremely uncomfortable with the gesture.

Whether out of politeness or out of honesty, Tara slowly reaches out her slightly shaking hand, and meets the Canadian’s offering.

One shake. Firm.

Silas Artoria: I’ll bring a gift, next time we meet.

He points her attention to the black rose pinned to his jacket.

Silas Artoria: How do you like th newest edition to my attire? It’s real you know! Though I’m not too sure which part of the planet this comes from. Possibly Damascus but it’s hard to pinpoint.

Tara Robinson: Right...

He releases his grip and Tara leans back into her chair, tablet in hand.

Tara Robinson: So, your match at WrestleFest ended in failure as you were unable to capture the number one contenders position. How does that make you feel, falling short of another opportunity?

Silas chuckles, unfazed by the connotations that the question is implying.

Silas Artoria: Oh Tara, you’ve been listening to the hollow words of Ataxia’s thin insults. It’s in your tone, and it’s hard to break away from after being in his presence for so long.

Tara Robinson: But that has nothing to do with the question.

Silas Artoria: You’re right, it doesn’t. It’s just a careful observation, best if I told you now then hide it and have you unaware of a potential critical problem.

He sits up in his chair, stretching his back as he readjusts himself.

Silas Artoria: The match. In all honesty I feel incredible, reinvigorated somewhat after that horrific spiral from the position I once stood at. I resorted into feeling sorry for myself and that had its own effect in the ring. But after the Summer Games debacle I had to reevaluate my approach, and even though the result wasn’t what I desired, it was essentially my coming out party.

He leans in close to Tara, causing her to shift back slightly. He whispers:

Silas Artoria: Tell me Miss Robinson, who was it that got pinned in the that four person dance we had?

Tara hesitates, but soon gives an answer.

Tara Robinson: The Shadow?

He jumps back suddenly, startling Tara as she fumbles with the tablet in shock.

Silas Artoria: Yes! Shadow, not Silas Artoria! Silas Artoria was still standing after his, Autumn’s, and Loki’s attempt to keep me down failed to keep me out for even a minute! Within the locker room, the boys and girls are trying to figure out how to keep Silas Artoria down if they get in the unfortunate position in facing me! Even if they don’t admit it, they’re coming up with ideas at the back of their heads. That is a legacy of a match, and because of that, I’ve never felt so alive.

He lingers on that last word long enough for it to turn into a light grown, causing Tara to at least eye the exit nearby. Still, she is a professional, and continues on.

Tara Robinson: Tonight you have a match again—

Silas Artoria: Against Flair, I know, I know what our previous encounters consisted of and I know that it attracted mockery thanks to the sack of potatoes I have to hesitantly call the commissioner, but guess what? That was then, this is now. It’s no longer a question of if I am going to harp and complain about it again, because I’m not. That’s beyond me now, and it should be beyond anyone who have better things to do than trudge up comments from the past.

He looks irritably behind him, likely towards a stagehand nearby.

Silas Artoria: Can I get some water here?

Back to Tara, smile and all.

Silas Artoria: Do I want that challenge to be definite? Of course! Would anyone like the champion to forget that they offered up the championship, just for an opportunity to take a swing at their head? Of course not! Because the top prize is so tantalising for those who come to the CWF to seek fame, glory, and an everlasting legacy.

The stagehand enters the screen with a glass of water, ice included. Silas enthusiastically grabs the glass and takes a quick swig.

Silas Artoria: Don’t consider this a non-title match, not a match for the number one contendership. Think of this match as an opportunity to win a ticket. If Flair beats me, she goes onward to Hellbound to take on Loki and an uncertain future. If I beat her? Well...

He takes another swig of his water, although much more slowly than his last mouthful. He feels refreshed, portrayed by the satisfied sigh as he puts the glass down on the floor.

Silas Artoria: ...that uncertainty could be me in waiting.

Tara Robinson: Okay...one more question.

Silas Artoria: What I thought of Shadow’s address?

He slowly turns to look at the camera, staring into the lens with a smile that could wither flowers in an instant.

Silas Artoria: So, you think that I needed my Passenger to be competitive, and yet you shrug off your own failures and put your own spin on things. Lose a match and get pinned? Doesn’t matter to you, just come up with pathetic excuses and pretend you’re not impressed.

His smile starts to turn dark, and the tone took on a much more series face.

Silas Artoria: I rewatched that match, and I saw the desperation within you when you went to tilt that table.

His head tilts.

Silas Artoria: You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’re afraid of the nightmares that were present, because no matter what you threw at me, you couldn’t get the job done.

His smile finally turns into one of slight fury.

Silas Artoria: Do you know why I wasn’t present at ringside come the end of the night? Come the celebrations? Because I wanted to with Flair’s moment of glory without it making it about me. I didn’t want the cameras on me, I didn’t want to take the spotlight away from the rightful winner.

And yes, in the middle of the ring you emerged from the sidelines, offering your hand to make the final moments of the show about you. If you truely cared about Flair winning, you would have stayed away from the cameras, away from any kind of attention.

But you couldn’t, and that’s a huge problem with your presence and vocabulary.

His eyes finally take on the familiar feint red tint that was witnessed only last week, and the words begin to be pressed out from his teeth.

Silas Artoria: You’re an egomaniac, your arrogant, and most insulting of all, you’re selfish.

He quickly turns back to Tara, all calm and happy at her present and back to his previous and comfortable posture. Tara is tense, wide eyed at the receipt Silas gave,  and was understandably nervous.

Silas Artoria: Any more questions, Miss Robinson?

Tara Robinson: No, not partially.

Silas immediately stands up and strides to Tara, taking her hand and shaking it forcibly, though clearly not out to harm her.

Silas Artoria: Well it was lovely to see you again, we should do this another time? Next week? Yeah next week.

He turns, grabs his glass of water, and joyfully walks off screen.

Silas Artoria: I’ve got a match to prepare, bye! Stay out of trouble!

The sound of a door slamming is heard, and Tara slowly begins to calm her body, unsure what behaviour she just witnessed.

Tara Robinson: Umm...ok.

Autumn Raven vs. Dangerous Dan

Ray Douglas: The following contest is scheduled for one fall…

Purple lights shine around the top of the ramp, fog rolling around it as the beginning lyrics of the song start to play, the tron displaying a purple outlined black raven with her name fading in over it.

“The sun is shining
Though everything’s dying
Your stars burned out for good
Somewhere in Hollywood”

As the guitar riff starts up, the purple lights start to flicker like a strobe light as Autumn slowly walks out from the back, coming to a stop at the top of the ramp. She glances out at the crowd with a smirk on her face as she starts down the ramp slowly.

Ray Douglas: Introducing...From Los Angeles, Caifornia. She is the "Beautiful Psychopath"...Autumn Raven!

“What the hell,
This ain’t no way to treat the living dead
Is this something from a novel that you read
It’s time to cut the cord and say goodbye
Cause it’s the only thing that hasn’t happened yet
And when it does I wished we’d never met
I did the best I could.”

She walks around the ring, glaring at the fans sitting at ringside before sliding under the bottom rope and leaping to her feet, giving the crowd a smug smile.

“The sun is shining
But everything’s dying
Your stars burned out for good
Somewhere in Hollywood
I swear it’s only
Cos you be my lies
Guess I’m misunderstood
You were my deadlihood”

She runs to the corner turnbuckle, climbing to the second one, taunting the crowd, as she flings her arms out to the sides once again before climbing down.

Ray Douglas: And the opponent. Weighing in at 22lbs, from Smithville, TN. He is one half of the Danger Boiz…Dangerous Dan!

Mike Rolash: Autumn Raven is about to get a serious blast from the past!

And out comes Dangerous Dan, wasting no time in heading down to the ring. Autumn isn’t interested in waiting for him to enter the ring to start the match, charging towards the ropes and springing up, high into the air. The Beautiful Psychopath sails above and over the ring ropes, crashing down upon the hapless Dan with a suicide somersault senton, also known as a tope con hilo.

Jim Gunt: And the Raven takes flight! The bell hasn’t even gone yet!

Though also rocked by the jarring impact of her impressive dive, Autumn clearly fares better of the two, recovering quickly and rolling her opponent into the ring, leaving Dan resting near to the ring ropes, marking the moment when referee Clark Summits can finally call for the starting bell. Autumn ascends to the apron and looks to once again spring into action…both figuratively and literally.

Mike Rolash: It’s not often Dangerous Dan gets taken by surprise in such a manner. Perhaps the Old should learn from the New.

Autumn uses the ring ropes for added leverage and momentum, leaping back into the ring with a slingshot elbow drop. No stranger to the ways of the high-flyer himself, Dan uses those precious split seconds from when his opponent commits herself to the springboard manoeuvre and as she goes OVER the ring ropes, he rolls UNDER them. The Beautiful Psychopath crashes onto the mat, leaving Dangerous Dan to makes his way to his feet, standing on the apron. The competitors essentially switching positions.

Jim Gunt: It appears Dan’s education is sound, thanks Mike.

Dangerous Dan wastes no time and rockets back into the action with a tope atomico. Autumn scampers back to her feet, only to cop a standing dropkick for her trouble, sending her careening backwards, into the nearby ring corner. There is no respite however, as Dan charges straight toward her. The Beautiful Psychopath is quick to sidestep out of the firing line. It appears as if Dangerous Dan is on a collision course with the post. No! Dan puts his honed reflexes to use, leaping over the ring ropes, to land perfectly back on the ring rope. Autumn lashes out with the Claw of the Night, but Dan again proves too quick, ducking underneath the superkick, leaving Raven unceremoniously straddling the top ring rope.

Mike Rolash: Can we get that again in slow motion? Geez!

Jim Gun: What your eye sight failing in your old age?

Mike Rolash: Fuck You!

With his opponent in such a precarious position and therefore defenceless, Dangerous Dan capitalises on the situation with a springboard triangle neckbreaker. He hooks the leg for the matches’ first pinfall.

ONE…

TWO…

Autumn gets her foot resting on the bottom rope for the rope break.

Jim Gunt: Fairly certain Dangerous Dan had this match won if not for that lucky stray foot.

Undeterred Dangerous Dan lifts his opponent up for a text-book vertical suplex. As he lifts Autumn up to the apex of the wrestling technique, Autumn shows signs of a desperate resistance, loosening Dan’s hold on her. As The Beautiful Psychopath fights free she follows through with a reversal into a small package pin attempt.

ONE…

TWO…

TH-

Mike Rolash: Autumn Raven would have had this match won if not for that lucky stray break out…

Jim Gunt: You think you're so funny!

This time around Autumn is the quicker to react and knocks Dangerous Dan down with a missile dropkick. With her opponent down, the Beautiful Psychopath ascends to the top of the nearest turnbuckle. However her opponent recovers quicker than anticipated and Dan leaps at the ropes, creating enough turbulence to travel through the top ring rope, into the same turnpost on which Autumn now stands. She looses her footing and lands awkwardly and rather embarrassingly onto the corner post.

Jim Gunt: Not an advantageous position to be in!

Dangerous Dan steps quickly to meet Autumn at her level and showing no signs of any ring-rust connects with the ever-impressive Cyclorama.

Jim Gunt: Always enjoy seeing that great top-rope somersault belly-to-belly suplex.

Mike Rolash: You going to properly explain and describe every god damn move tonight?

Jim Gunt: If you want.

True to fashion Dangerous Dan gets himself back to his feet and following the spectacular yet dangerous signature move, Dan plants his opponent bodily face first back down to the mat with the Danger Zone. He hooks the leg.

Jim Gunt: The Danger Zone! When was the last time we saw that?

Mike Rolash: Last night, at your mu-

ONE…

Jim Gunt: I doubt Autumn Raven is kicking out of that one!

Mike Rolash: Oi, I said your mu-

TWO…

Jim Gunt: Is this the end?

Mike Rolash: HEY!

THREE…

The bell rings to end the match.

Mike Rolash: God Damnit!

Ray Douglas: And the winner by pinfall - DANGEROUS DAN!

Mike Rolash: As I was sayi--

Jim Gunt: A very impressive return by Dan, who seems to be right back in the swing of things, while Autumn's persistent losing streak continues and we should really be at least a bit worried about her, since she does not seem to be able to catch a break!

Mike Rolash: Will you finally let me--

I'm Up One

Before Mike can finally finish his thought, everyone’s attention is suddenly turned towards the tron. As it springs to life, it displays a door marked ‘Danger Boiz’! Confused, Dangerous Dan watches on as the door opens and none other than Duce Jones steps out! The visual of the tag champ incite boos as he is seen holding something on his hand. Looking to walk off, an approaching Marcus Maximus can be seen with a mic in hand!

Marcus Maximus: Duce! Duce! Why are you coming out of the Danger Boiz locker room!?

Duce Jones: Ohhhh shit! Is dat who dat locka room belong to?

Marcus Maximus: Duce you were absent this week, in giving comments towards your match. Do care to comment now?

Almost walking off, Duce stops in his tracks, turning towards Maximus. The crowd and Dangerous Dan watching on intently.

Duce Jones: Riiiight. That's why I'm here. Can I vent one time?

Marcus goes to respond but Duce moves the mic back towards himself.

Duce Jones: Y'don't have t'answer dat, cause I'm bout to anyway. Tonight, I step in familiar territory. Tha all too familiar multi man match. I guess needs help t'get his hands on me. But Taxi, I'm here to let y'know dat. Contrary to yo belief, I have no hatred towards ya. Just don't agree wit y’principles, and honestly tha only reason I fuck wit ya, is cause you've gone soft mane.

The crowd boos heavily as Jones continues.

Duce Jones: Seriously mane, those threats of bans and all the otha shit is pointless. Then y'idea of gettin’ revenge is a match with us, Allen, and some piece of shit, who thinks just cause he saw some light he's doing God’s will. But dat brings me to why I'm walking outta dis door. Tha reason why no one heard from me, was cause I was unda docta’s orders, to rest because of a concussion.

Raising his hand, Duce focuses his attention on the mask of Crazy Chris, which he holds in his possession. Dangerous Dan now livid, exiting the ring and heading towards the back.

Duce Jones: I guess you can say, I'm up one.. Somebody might wanna check on dat guy.

Duce walks off whistling and twirling the mask in his hand, as Marcus and the cameraman push the door open, to find a maskless Crazy Chris lying face down on the floor, a steel chair beside him.

Why?

As the camera cuts back to the arena, the opening riff of "Cut the Cord" by Shinedown begins to play and the fans react with nothing but heat for the man about to make his entrance. He steps out onto the stage, extends his arms out in the "crucify me" pose.

Jim Gunt: Maybe we'll finally get some damn answers!

Mike Rolash: Ha! He did it because he could!

He tilts his head back to it's normal position and laughs as he makes his way down the ramp. He pauses by a little kid who's trying to get his attention. The kid of maybe 13 is holding a sign, "Why Jimmy, Why?!" is printed on the sign. He pauses there and smiles at the kid ruffling his hair. He snatches the sign away from the kid and rips it in half, flinging it into the air as he walks away laughing.

Jim Gunt: What the hell!? There was no need for that!

Mike Rolash: Oh my God! Jimmy is my new hero!

He rolls under the bottom rope and picks up the microphone that was laying in the middle of the ring. He leans up against the ropes and smiles more as more of the boo birds get involved.

Jimmy Allen: Done?

They get louder and he laughs at them, he waits and within 30 seconds the booing stops.

Jimmy Allen: I knew you couldn't maintain it.

They start again and he smiles knowing he triggered them once again.

Jim Gunt: Come on! Someone put a stop to this b.s.!

Mike Rolash: You said you wanted answers, and now you want him stopped. Make up your damned mind already!

Jimmy Allen: See, that's the problem, you people give up too easy.  All I had to do to trigger that reaction was to call you all out on it. See how easy it is to manipulate sheeple?! 

He pauses to see if they get started up again, this time they don't just to spite him.

Jimmy Allen: And I still win. So, like little Johnny or whatever the hell that kid's name was wants to know....Why Jimmy, Why?! Why did you do that to your friend, what was it that was in that mist?!

Jim Gunt: What was it? I'd never seen yellow mist before.

Mike Rolash: And you call yourself a professional! Ha! It has a paralitic in it! It's a beautiful thing!

Pausing again he studies their reaction and smirks.

Jimmy Allen: What was in the yellow mist that would cause Dorian Hawkhurst, the supposed Demon of The Forsaken, to drop like a ton of bricks in the middle of the ring? Ancient Japanese secret.

The boo birds pick back up again causing him to laugh again.

Jimmy Allen: No, seriously, no more than a dozen people in the world know how to use it. Well, to use it safely that is. Dorian doesn't know, he wasn't trained for using mist. Mostly because he couldn't keep his face out of a bottle long enough. When your own good time is more important than your training, you might just be the problem. Let's just say the yellow mist renders your opponent incapable of defending themselves.

He points to the tron, where a picture from WrestleFest, a moment frozen in time. A single frame capturing the moment that Jimmy Allen spit the yellow mist into the face of Dorian Hawkhurst.

Jimmy Allen: Damn, talk about your WrestleFest moment! 

The crowd starts getting on him again and he waves them off.

Jimmy Allen: As to why? Why I would do this to my best friend, that's personal, that's very personal. 

With that, Jimmy drops the microphone and moves over into a ring corner, sitting on the top turnbuckle, awaiting the entrance of his opponents.

Jim Gunt: Wait! that tells us nothing!

Mike Rolash (laughing): That was awesome! It's no one's business!

Ataxia vs. Azrael vs. Duce Jones vs. Jimmy Allen

Ray Douglas: The following contest is a Fatal Four Way Match and is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing, currently inside of the ring. Weighing in at two hundred twenty seven pounds, from Dallas, Texas! The Catalyst - JIMMY ALLEN!

The Memphian fans continue to boo, while Allen pays them no mind. The lights then flicker as we hear this over the PA System…

"AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA"

"Dangerous Tonight" by Alice Cooper starts to play as Ataxia enters the arena wearing his cloak of raven feathers, tophat, cane, and raven mask over his usual bag like mask. Ataxia spins the cane around and high fives fans as he walks down the ringside area.

Ray Douglas: The second competitor, making his way to the ring! Representing The Forsaken, he is YOUR CWF Commissioner! The Messiah Pariah - ATAXIA!

He leaps into the ring and whips off the cloak. He takes off the mask, hat and cane. A ring attendant grabs them as Ataxia waits...waving and blowing kisses at Jimmy!

Jim Gunt: To see Ataxia in good spirit is always a bad sign, especially since the mysterious disappearance of one, Mia Rayne.

Mike Rolash: The guy is already batshit crazy, and the longer Mia is M.I.A, I don't think anyone is safe.

Ataxia: Not even you Mike…

Rolash screams out in fear as Ataxia, somehow is standing behind him.

Mike Rolash: How do you keep doing that!?

Ataxia: Special effects, and I got a team.

Gunt is trying his best to hold his laughter, Ataxia making his way back inside of the ring. Soon, Halestorm’s "I am the Fire" starts while the lights go dark. Azrael makes his way to the top of the ramp and as the chorus begins.

Ray Douglas: The third competitor, making his way to the ring, he is the Archangel of Death - AZRAEL!

Columns of fire illuminate Azrael as he methodically walks to the ring with his head bent down with a hint of his head bobbing to the beat.

Jim Gunt: Here is a man, who at Wrestle Fest, was reborn as a new man, looking to help guide the masses on the right path!

Mike Rolash: Are you serious? The guy is an attention seeking whore, who cut his own dick off, for sympathy!

Jim Gunt: Mike!!

Mike Rolash: Hey Jimmy said it! Hell don't shoot the messenger..

Jim face palms from the rebuttal by Rolash, the lights then flicker as we hear this over the PA System…

"AHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHA"

Mike Rolash: What the hell!

The three competitors inside of the ring look confused as well as the Memphis fans! Suddenly, the opening of "Committed" by One-Eyed Doll blasts over the PA as the lights all go out, plunging the entire arena into pitch darkness, save for one, lone, icy blue spotlight that shines bright on the stage. A lone figure, sporting a hooded trenchcoat, tophat, and raven mask, which appears to be over another mask, comes dancing out into the spotlight, skipping frantically to the beat and collapsing in the middle of the spotlight as the music crescendos.

Jim Gunt: Is he serious?

Ray Douglas: Ummm, making his way to the ring, representing The Glass Ceiling! He is one half of the CWF Tag Team Champions! DUCE JONES!?

Duce Jones hops up to his feet, snatches off the raven's mask, to reveal the mask he just stole from Crazy Chris! Taking off the trenchcoat, he reveals a shirt with the patented Shadow logo, along with his tag title wrapped around his waist, before he curtsies to the dismay of most in the crowd. He skips down to the ring, his arms swinging freely at his sides and pauses once he gets to the ring, placing his hands on the apron and gazing up at nothing in particular with a joyful expression in his eyes and a maniacal smile on his lips. He licks his lips, from under the mask savoring the moment and slides into the ring, laughing as he rolls under the rope and crawls over to the closest corner, rocking back and forth to the music and laughing at anyone who dares make eye contact with him.

Jim Gunt: Have I ever mentioned, how disrespectful Duce Jones can be?

Mike Rolash: Yea, Jimbo, even I can admit he's taking it too far.

A seething Ataxia can be seen fuming with anger, his eyes dead set on Jones, who sarcastically gets to his feet, laughing maniacally at Ataxia. The fans soon breaking out in chant!

“TAXI’S GONNA KILL YOU!”

“TAXI’S GONNA KILL YOU!”

Pacing in his corner, Ataxia anxiously awaits for “Big” Denny Davidson to finally be done with his check, calling for the bell! Sprinting full speed, Ataxia jumps up and drives both of his knees into the collarbones of Jones sending him crashing into the corner hard! The fans go nuts as Jones rolls to the outside of the ring, both Allen and Azrael stand there stunned!

Jim Gunt: Jones just destroyed by The Reckoning!

Mike Rolash: He's one guy I can truly say, doesn't know how to leave well enough alone. But I love him for it!

The fans are going insane, Allen looking on unimpressed, before he is blindsided by a corner clothesline courtesy of Az! Dropping down in the corner, Allen rolls out of the ring, as now it's only Az and Ataxia left inside of the ring. Turning their attention towards each other, the both calmly meet in the center of the ring, the taller Az offering his hand for a test of strength against Ataxia. With his red teeth showing a smile through the mask, Ataxia obliges, interlocking fingers with Az before quickly turning it into an arm wrench. Applying pressure to the Angel of Death’s arm, Taxi wrenches hard on his arm, before Az quickly breaks it up with a kick to the mid section, forcing the break.

Now applying a headlock, Az cinches down on the lock, but the Messiah Pariah backs him into the ropes, shooting him off across the ring, Taxi quickly drops down to the canvas as Az runs over top of him. Now with a leapfrog upon Az's second return off the ropes, Ataxia sprints for the ropes himself, catching Az with a kick to the chest as he attempts a back body drop, that stands Azrael up. Bouncing himself off the ropes again, Taxi nails Az in the face with a rolling kick that sends him down to the mat and rolling out of the ring to gather himself!

Jim Gunt: The commish is a man on a mission right now! That kick catching Azrael square between the eyes!

Mike Rolash: As long as he stays inside of the ring, and not pop up by us, I'm truly content with what he's doing.

Allen is seen trying to gain the upper hand with a quick attack, but the Master of the Hungarian Reach Around, takes him over with an arm drag, soon applying an arm bar. Fighting against the hold, Allen is able to get to his feet, grabbing the back of Taxi’s bagged mask, forcing him into the ropes, where Davidson is there with the count, forcing both men to release their grips. Both men hold their arms in the air, showing Davidson that they’re obliging, but Allen quickly rocks Ataxia with a forearm shot! Grabbing the arm of the commish and irish whipping him across the ring. A clothesline attempt is ducked, followed by Ataxia ducking another attempt as he rebounds of the opposite set. Ataxia now holds onto the ropes as the Catalyst ducks down, rising quickly, Allen catches the foot of Taxi, blocking an attempt at a kick! He swings the foot around, but Taxi catches him with an enziguiri on the rebound! As he is getting to his feet, Ataxia is caught off guard by a returning Jones who hooks him for a suplex, but instead drops him head first into his knee with a Knee Brainbuster! Jones drops down on top of Ataxia for the cover as Davidson makes the count!

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

The Memphian crowd booing the hometown kid, as he brings Taxi to his feet rocking him a forearm shot!

Jim Gunt: For a guy to be performing in front of his hometown, these people are showing him no love.

Mike Rolash: You know how dumb these fans are Jimmy, they probably think he's still claiming Arkansas as his place of residence.

An irish whip towards the ropes is reversed by Ataxia! Just as Jones is about to rebound off the ropes, Az catches him with a knee to the back, sending him stumbling towards the commish, who boots him in the gut, doubling Duce over! Dropping to the mat, Ataxia backhands the face of the Kid that Never Dies, the crowd screaming on unison, “HAI FRAND!” Duce drops to the mat holding his face, as the commish goes for the cover, but it's quickly broken up by Allen! Before he can make a move though, Azrael is back in the ring with a hard lariat that sends Allen twisting through the air!

Jim Gunt: Oh my God! What a lariat by Azrael!

Mike Rolash: Ok maybe killing himself was the right direction to go.

Gunt sideyes Rolash, as the Angel of Death of now bringing Duce Jones to his feet, he lifts Jones up and then spikes him into the canvas with a Falling Side Slam! He hooks the leg going for a cover, but is only able to get a one count. Azrael is soon back to his feet, contemplating another attack but, doesn't catch Allen who sprints past him, springing off the middle rope, he blasts Az across the face with a Springboard Roundhouse Kick! Az falls to the canvas as Jimmy looks to capitalize, but he's blindsided by a Crazy Chris’ masked Jones, who sends him staggering towards the ropes with a Superman Punch! Allen reverses an irish whip attempt by Jones, following him closely as he rebounds off the opposite set of ropes, driving his knee into the gut of the co-holder of the tag titles! With momentum on his side, Allen pulls Duce towards the center of the ring, soon looking for a leg sweep! Having the wherewithal to jump, Jones is able to avoid the attempt, he strikes a rising Catalyst across the chest with a shoot kick, he follows up with a spinning back fist, kick to the leg forces Allen to a knee and D-TRIGGA! The running knee strike has both men down now as Ataxia and Azrael are now reentering the fray, going at one another! Ataxia drops Az with a leg lariat, Taxi quickly brings Az to his feet, but Az ducks behind the Messiah Pariah, applying a rear waist lock. Escaping the grasps of his opponent quickly, Ataxia drops the AoD with a jump spin kick to the side of the head!

Jim Gunt: This action is really starting to pick up Mike, Ataxia goes for the cover! But Jimmy Allen is in to break it up before the count of three!

Mike Rolash: At least there’s one true savior inside that ring at the moment.

Jimmy has Ataxia to his feet and whips him towards the ropes, Taxi drops down to the canvas, attempting to slide between the legs of the Catalyst. However, he has this scouted, stomping down on his back! Now bending down to grab Taxi from between his legs proves costly as Jones is there with a Bicycle Knee Strike to the exposed head of Allen! As he falls back, Allen’s legs hooks the arms of Taxi, raising him up into a prone position! Now pointing a finger gun at Taxi, Jones rebounds off the ropes and just rocks the exposed bagged faced Taxi with a D-Trigga Knee Strike!

Jim Gunt: I've never seen anything like that before in my years of calling professional wrestling!

Mike Rolash: It was a thing of beauty.

The hometown fans boo Jones, as he slowly gets to his, now focusing his attention on a Azrael who's recovering on the outside. Hitting the ropes the Kid that Never Dies goes for a suicide dive, but only catches the fist of Az, as Jones slumps on the middle rope! Now moving in, Az hooks Jones for a suplex, pulling him from the ropes and tossing him back first into the barricade! Looking to get back in the fight, Az slides inside the ring going for Allen, who quickly shoves him off and drops him with a SUPERKICK! Azrael drops to the mat, as the crowd begins to stir, as it seems as if someone of sprinting towards ringside!

Jim Gunt: What is she doing out here?

Mike Rolash: Someone needs to let Dorian know, that CWF is not liable for any harm that comes to his daughter.

Sure enough little Chloe Hawkhurst is at ringside banging on the apron, gaining the attention of Allen! He slowly makes his way over towards her, screaming for her to return to the back. She refuses, yelling insults in the direction of the Catalyst!

Mike Rolash: Someone get this kid out of here!

Jim Gunt: Keep your eyes on Ataxia, he's going to the top!

Perched on the top turnbuckle, Taxi waits for Allen to switch focus, which he soon does. Leaping off the top and spinning through the air, Ataxia is unable to connect with Peaceful Tolerance, as Allen is able to roll out of the way! Both men are to their feet and as quick as a cat Jimmy Allen nearly takes Ataxia’s head off with an Inside-Out Crescent Kick!

Mike Rolash: Goodnight Princess, hahaa!

Allen goes for the pin, hooking the leg as Davidson is there to make the count!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Climbing off top the Messiah Pariah, Allen has his hand raised in victory by Davidson, Chloe Hawkhurst fuming at ringside.

Ray Douglas: Here is your winner, the Catalyst - JIMMY ALLEN!

Jim Gunt: It seems that Chloe was out here to cause some sort of distraction, but in the end that backfired.

Mike Rolash: The kid lucky she didn't get hurt, because if I was in that ring and she showed up, I would've….

????: You've would've done what?

Rolash becomes quiet as none other than Dorian Hawkhurst is standing behind him.

Mike Rolash: I would've politely asked her to leave.

Dorian Hawkhurst: I'm pretty sure she wouldn't listen.

Allen is seen walking up the ramp, celebrating his victory as both Hawkhurst are now in the ring checking on Ataxia.

Jim Gunt: I always warn you to watch the things you say.

Mike Rolash: Seriously! Do these guys have a special tunnel that leads to our table? I really need to have a meeting with the board about this!

Discuss Terms

The familiar music of Jaiden Rishel hits and the Prodigal Son wastes no time marching down the ramp, practically snatching the microphone away from Ray Douglas and taking his spot, centre stage. Understandably the crowd is not too pleased to see him.

Jaiden Rishel: Alright you ungrateful s.ob.s. Now's the time to can it.

Jim Gunt: Like that’s going to work.

Jaiden Rishel: I don’t want to be out here any more than you want me here. The sooner you shut up and let me say what I need to say, the sooner I can get the fuck out of here. You savy?

Jim Gunt: I mean…that’s one way to look at it.

Mike Rolash: So shut up and let the man speak!

Jaiden Rishel: As I’m sure you have all noticed the distinct absence of Colton Mace tonight.

Jim Gunt: Thank god!

Jaiden Rishel: And I know how much you must miss him dearly.

Mike Rolash: I do! We need Colton Mace!

Jim Gunt: Like a hole in the head.

Jaiden Rishel: But perhaps you should have thought about that before you turned your back on him and supported a cardboard cut-out champion. Someone so bland. So boring, lacking even the slightest modicum of talent that our True Superstar possesses. The fact is Colton Mace was robbed at WrestleFest. He SHOULD be Champion and until this grievous wrong is put right Mace refuses to step into a CWF ring. He simply cannot work under these conditions! He refuses to drop a single bead of sweat for people who don’t respect true, unadulterated talent and charisma. As such I have a list of demands from the Hollywood Hot-Shot. So you better pay very close attention if you want to see Colton Mace step foot into the ring again.

Jim Gunt: I can’t wait to hear this. He probably wants an Ice-Sculpture in his likeness in every arena lobby.

Mike Rolash: That’s a great idea!

Jaiden Rishel: Demand Number 1. Colton expects to have his own, personalized Hall of Fame ceremony. It’s a travesty of the highest order that his contributions have not been acknowledged and recognised publicly, in the proper fashion. Instead simply being named and swept under the rug. For shame! He wants confetti cannons, a red carpet and Victoria Secret models. The works. All befitting a champion of his stature. See it done!

Mike Rolash: That’s a good point. Where was his parade and ceremony?

Jim Gunt: Things were…complicated back then.

Jaiden Rishel: And his second demand is the biggest. He demands his rematch against MJ Flair! That title should be around his waist. No one else's! Simple as that. Give Colton his rematch and return things to normal. Those are his demands and if the masked Maniac playing at Bossman has even a lick of sense he will acquiesce. Otherwise you will have earned the scorn of the A-List Athlete. And trust me, no one wants to see that!

Jaiden drops the mic and takes his leave.

Broken Mask

In the Aces' locker room, Duce comes in after getting the once over by the medical staff. He sees Freddie just sitting there, kind of here-but-not-here, holding his tag title belt. Duce pats him on the back, goes to start getting back in his civvies. Once that's done, he places his tag title belt on top of Freddie's...pats him on the back one more time.

Duce: Y'got dis bruh. I believe in ya.

Duce turns and walks out oft he room, unaware of the falling tears onto the tag titles from Freddie's eyes...
 

Mariella Jade Flair (c) vs. Silas Artoria

Jim Gunt: Wow, what a night already and a lot happening just before this match with The Shadow addressing Silas in a really haunting way, Colton Mace going on strike and as it seems Freddie Styles breaking down!

Mike Rolash: Yeah, makes me wonder why we employ any of them anymore these days, what does this have to do with wrestling?

Jim Gunt: We actually had a similar discussion about you in that matter.

Mike Rolash: Who is we? And why about me?

Jim Gunt: Oh, just me and the boys and just because.

Mike Rolash: I don't like this!

Jim Gunt: And Ray is here to save the day!

Mike Rolash: Wha--

Ray Douglas: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first…from Warwick, NY. She is the CWF World Heavyweight Champion…Mariella-Jade Flair!

With "Smash the Control Machine" by OTEP playing, the Heavyweight Champion strolls down to ringside amidst a veil of strobe lights. MJ climbs from the floor to the top turnbuckle on the outside of the ring, and pushes the hood of her jacket back and raises the Heavyweight Title belt into the air.

Ray Douglas: And her opponent. From Toronto, Canada, and weighing in at 220lbs…Silas Artoria!

Bathed in light of dark-blue hue, the Psychotic Aristocrat strides down to the ring. MJ watches his every move with a gaze of determination and contempt. Silas simply responds with a malicious smirk, as he ascends into the ring.

Jim Gunt: Feel that bad blood boiling! The tension so thick you could cut it with a knife!

Mike Rolash: What’s with all the fancy phrases?

Jim Gunt: My kid’s been doing similar, metaphor and personification at school…

The referee, Trent Robbins, signals for the starting bell and both competitors err on the sign of restraint, neither willing to make the initial move and instead study the other, waiting for their opening. There is no give in either competitor and finally Silas relents, raising his hand in challenge, requesting a test of strength.

Jim Gunt: Does he really think a trained veteran like MJ would falls for such an obvious rouse?

Mike Rolash: If she’s anything like the fighting champion she claims, she’ll accept.

MJ simply shakes her head, refusing the challenge and in turn refusing to play Silas’ game. Silas stands his ground however and makes the challenge a second time, more pointedly, with an aggressive motion to his raised and open hand. But the World Champion is not so easily duped and remains firmly in her corner. This proves the straw that breaks the camels back and Silas charges forward with teeth bared viciously.

Mike Rolash: Finally someone is actually doing something!

Mariella is prepared for the bull rush assault and swiftly side steps out of the corner. Silas however prevents himself from colliding with the steel corner post, arresting his forward momentum. He is even prepared for MJ’s attempt offensive, lunging forward to try, but ultimately fail, to take advantage of Silas’ disadvantageous position. Silas strikes with a stiff back elbow that takes MJ by surprise straight in the jaw.

Mike Rolash: That’s how Silas repays condescension! Maybe next time MJ will show some respect to her challenger.

Jim Gunt: She’s under no obligation to show any respect to that reprehensible piece of trash!

The Psychotic Aristocrat tosses his opponent into the corner, cutting off MJ’s retreat and looking way too satisfied and pleased with himself, he motions for silence. The impact of the knife-edge chop resonates throughout the arena. He follows up with a second…and a third. His expression growing with each strike.

Mike Rolash: He looks like a kid at a toy-store, with a brand-new toy ready for him to break.

Jim Gunt: Except this action figure fights back!

Pulling MJ out of the corner, Silas sends her into the ropes with an irish whip. Still with plenty of fight left, MJ ducks underneath the clothesline, charging against the second set of ring ropes, bouncing back, into Silas’s waiting clutches, at least it seems that way until the Champion throws her opponent to the mat with a tilt-a-whirl headscissors. Silas is sent sprawling.

Jim Gunt: I’m sure you could call her many things, but you can’t say MJ isn’t resourceful, with plenty of tricks up her sleeve.

Mike Rolash: That could be a new career for her. Selling tricks at the street corner…

Jim Gunt: What the-You and Silas deserve each other!

Silas uses the ring ropes as support to recover to his feet swiftly but is unable to react quick enough to muster a defence against his opponent and falls prey to a running dropkick from the Champ. Artoria is sent careening through the ring ropes, crashing into a heap at ringside.

Jim Gunt: MJ has a chance tonight to unleash all the collective frustration, all the collective disdain for that man and kick Silas’ arse on behalf of the CWF roster!

MJ climbs out onto the apron and eagerly awaits for Silas to stand back to his feet. The very moment the Psychotic Aristocrat is upright, MJ charges forward. Her momentum is brought to a ery abrupt halt however as Silas takes the Champ by surprise cutting the very feet from under her. MJ tumbles, falling face first onto the apron, before rolling painfully to ringside.

Mike Rolash: Who’s gonna be kicking who’s arse?

Silas has MJ to her feet and with a shoulder barge, sends her bodily into the solid, unforgiving surface of the security barrier. He won't release her though, keeping MJ firmly in his grasp to repeat the sequence, this time barging her into the harsh ring apron. Artoria rolls MJ back into the ring and re-enters himself just as the referee reaches a count of 8.

Mike Rolash: Silas wouldn't be satisfied with a mere count out victory. He wants to prove a point.

Jim Gunt: That he's a disgusting human being? Point well and truly proven.

Silas connects with a text-book german suplex and follows up by hooking the leg for a pin attempt.

ONE...

TWO...

MJ breaks free!

Confident and content with his handiwork, Silas backsteps to give Mariella a chance to recover. Only so Silas can strike again, coming back into the fray with a discus lariat. MJ manages to duck underneath the strike, safe by a matter of mere inches, but safe and unharmed nonetheless. MJ nails her opponent with a stiff back elbow then deftly turns on the spot and replies to Silas in kind with her own high-impact clothesline. She goes for the pin.

ONE...

Jim Gunt: That nearly took Silas' head clean off!

TWO...

Silas kicks out!

Mike Rolash: Even nearly-headless, Silas is one tough customer.

MJ opts not to give the same 'space' that Silas had afforded her only moments ago and with Silas on his knees, Flair drives the head of the Psychotic Aristocrat back into the mat with a snap DDT. Once again she goes for the cover.

ONE...

TWO...

Silas with a shoulder up!

Jim Gunt: Damn.

Mike Rolash: Were you...crossing your fingers?

For his continued resilience Silas is duly punished with a stiff low side kick straight into the head. Mariella drops down and goes for the cover yet again.

ONE…

TWO…

THR-

Again he rolls his shoulder!

Jim Gunt: What is it going to take to keep that s.ob. down?!

Mariella charges in for a follow-up, charging elbow strike. From out of nowhere Silas comes to life, springing up, catching MJ by surprise and connecting with a belly-to-belly suplex. The World Champion is sent flying end over end, crashing into a corner post. The sickening impact clearly leaves her dazed, her entire body rocked by the unexpected collision.

Mike Rolash: Perhaps if she tried something like that, she’d be more successful?

Silas places a single foot upon the chest of his opponent and attempts a very cocky and arrogant pin attempt.

ONE…

TWO…

THR-

MJ manages to roll her shoulder.

Jim Gunt: Hate to say it, but if he’s gone for a more conventional cover he may have had the win.

Mike Rolash: Perhaps this is more than just simple win and loss for Silas.

Jim Gunt: You could be right.

Silas has MJ lifted up onto his shoulders and whips her around the centre of the ring with an airplane spin, a classic technique. MJ is left more disorientated and confused than hurt from the Psychotic Aristocrat’s throwback signature move. Instead of placing her back down to her feet however, Silas transitions the Champ into the Electric Chair Position, setting up for the Fall of Man. MJ regains her senses in time to deny her opponent the execution of the match-ending manoeuvre, raining down a furious series of lefts and rights straight to the face and temple of Silas.

Mike Rolash: Stubborn woman!

MJ drops down behind her opponent pushes Silas against the ropes. He comes bouncing back with the Knockout Bicycle Knee but MJ is able to evade the move and swings herself behind Artoria and sets up for the Morningstar.

Jim Gunt: We’re seeing the end at last!

Silas still won’t give in, struggling enough to loosen the Champ’s grasp. He twists himself around, taking MJ down with a school-boy pinning predicament. What the referee doesn’t notice as he drops for the count is that Silas has placed his feet onto the ring ropes for added leverage.

Jim Gunt: Cheating bastard!

ONE…

TWO…

THREE…

Mike Rolash: Hey, it got the job done.

Jim Gunt: I can’t believe I just witnessed that.

Mike Rolash: If it takes the smug little princess down a few notches, I say we witness that on a weekly basis. 

In the ring, MJ is on her knees, hands on top, shaking her head in disbelief. Her eyes meet Silas Artoria's as he walks backwards up the ramp, hand raised in victory. The fans continue to boo him for his methods and cheer the Champion; she looks towards Ray Douglas and asks him for a microphone.

Bound for Hell

After retrieving the microphone and her Championship Title from Ray Douglas, MJ takes her now - familiar seat on top of the turnbuckle, and looks out at the crowd. 

MJF: Well then… that was unexpected, huh? 

The fans pop, and the “EMM JAY EFF!” chant starts up as per usual. MJ smiles and looks down before readjusting the World Title belt over her shoulder.

MJF: It’s an important lesson t’learn about hard work and dedication, friends… and if you work hard enough, you too can steal a victory over the Champion with a handful’a tights.

She pauses.

MJF: I’ll get back to that in a minute.

While the fans continue their support for her, MJ adjusts her grip on the title belt. 

MJF: So… Tonight included, it’s been quite the rollercoaster of a year for me, and I know it’s not over yet… but… thank you.

She nods her head to them respectfully, while they cheer again.

MJF: No matter what happened this year, you guys never left my back. Through tough losses, bad luck, trusting the wrong peers… things went a little south for me starting at Paradise - and it would’ve been easy as hell t’lose faith in myself. 

Hand held camera gets in close, and she smirks into the lens.

MJF: Believe me, I came close. 

And she winks.

MJF: But you never did. You never abandoned me… and I can’t ever repay you for that. This belt here? 

She holds up the CWF World Title belt.

MJF: It ain’t mine… it’s ours.

The fans cheer at this declaration.

Mike Rolash: Shameless… always trying to buy a fan. 

Jim Gunt: Will you stop? 

MJF: So now that I’m holding the CWF World Title again… we’re gonna pick back up right where we left off… defending this title against anyone at any time. Next week, it’s Silas Artoria. 

The fans boo. MJ smirks.

MJF: But let’s be honest, the topic’a conversation isn’t Evolution 31… it’s Hellbound. 

The fans pop but instantly start booing as the lights die, only to be replaced by purple floods. “Start Wearing Purple” plays but just before it can really get going, it stops only for a couple more lights to be added onto the ring and shine brightly on Loki Synn with her scepter. She gestures and the lights train on the World Champion as tension mounts.

Loki Synn: The more things change… The more they stay the same. Another season, another Mariella title run. We get to watch the world revolve around MJ and her relentless quest to be the very best, like no one ever was…

Loki looks up, rolling her eyes. 

Loki Synn: I’m not going to sit here and pretend to care about how hard you worked to get back on top of a food chain that is lackluster at best. I came into the CWF for one reason and that is to spread the happy message of chicanery, malice, and absolute and pure HOSTILITY. It’s apt that I was able to manipulate Ataxia into giving me this opportunity. Get under his and The Forsaken’s skin enough, and I get exactly what I want: the destruction of The Forsaken.

And her mouth curls into a sinister grin.

Loki Synn: A number one contendership match that has a unique punchline, are you sure you’ll be ready? I wasn’t going to go after that belt yet. Irony no? 

At that, MJ drops down and approaches Loki Synn, unafraid.

Loki Synn: And now, at Hellbound, another apt name by the way, Loki Synn is going to take something very precious from the CWF and make sure everyone remembers how Hostility came to take over.

She drops the microphone from her face and stares daggers into the World Champion’s eyes. MJ holds her glare, and brings the microphone back to her own.

MJF: Take over, huh? Where have I--

Jim Gunt: Loki with that scepter to the head! MJ falls to the mat, and the number one contender is wailing away on her with that scepter! 

Mike Rolash: YES! I don’t care if it’s Silas Artoria next week or Loki Synn at Hellbound or anyone in between, as long as someone takes that title away! 

After several hard shots, Loki drops the scepter and pulls MJ to her feet. She punches the Champion in the face a few more times, sending drops of blood flying every which way from the scrape across her forehead. The Jagged Grin of the CWF sends the Champion into the ropes and drops her with a clothesline across the neck! 

Mike Rolash: Awwwh, why is security coming out here? Let this continue! 

Jim Gunt: MJ Flair has already wrestled a tough match tonight and Loki Synn is set to go up against Harley Hodge momentarily, they’ve got a job to do! 

Mike Rolash: But… but… she’s hurty! 

As security rushes to ringside, Loki pulls MJ up once more - but this time the Champion brings up her fist with a quick uppercut that stuns the Jagged Grin, and she DDTs her on the same scepter! 

It’s right at that moment that security pours into the ring and separates the two. 

Jim Gunt: Well, we clearly need to get some order back as the security team retrieves the World Title belt and exits the Champion from the ring, and Loki Synn… I think there’s a crack in that mask she wears! 

Mike Rolash: And now she's gonna kill her! 

Loki rises to her knees and leans her hands on the middle rope and her chin on her hands, and she watches with anticipation as security exits MJ from the ringside area down the side instead of up the ramp. 

Jim Gunt: This is heating up, Mike! MJ Flair clearly has her eyes set on Loki Synn, and Loki, I think, is in MJ’s head! But after what we just saw, can she even look that far ahead when Silas Artoria might finally have her number? 

Mike Rolash: She just bloodied Flair… she’s about to bloody Harley Hodge… I think I’m in love, Jim! 

Loki Synn vs. Harley Hodge

We see Ray Douglas dressed up in Renfaire garb. 

Jim Gunt: Well someone is in the spirit of the match.

Mike Rolash: Oh god he's in tights...MY EYES!!!

Ray Douglas: Lords and Ladies...The following contest is schedule for one fall...and it is the “Jester's Ball” match! Introducing first...Hailing from the kingdom of Brooklyn, New York...He is “The Accelerator” Harley Hodge!

An ever familiar revving from a motorcycle circulates throughout the arena before "Evenflow" by Pearl Jam fires off through the speakers, and the crowd rises to their feet. 

Harley walks out, with his traditional biker vest on and blue jeans. He raises one fist in the air, eyeballs the crowd, and then continues to brisk walk down the aisle before sliding under the ring ropes. He climbs to the second turnbuckle, raises his fist into the air to another large pop from the crowd, before taking his vest and jumping backwards from the turnbuckle. 

Jim Gunt: Harley might be a bit out of his element with the theme tonight, but this is a brawl...

Mike Rolash: So pretty much he's in his element just stuck in Medieval Times.

Jim Gunt: Oh I love their show...

Mike Rolash: You would...

Ray Douglas: Introducing nexteth...

We cut to Mike Rolash facepalming.

Ray Douglas: Ermm...They are “The Janusian Jester”, “The Knave of Knightmares”...They are Loki Synn!!

Loki blows a kiss at Harley from outside the ring where she stayed after her confrontation with MJF earlier. She slides back into the ring and remains crouched, waving at their opponent for the evening, while bouncing like a top. Harley does not look amused. Entering into the ring in a white and black monk’s robe is Clark Summits.

Jim Gunt: Could you imagine what Loki has in store for MJF come Hellbound?

Mike Rolash: Can...we please just...get past tonight?

The opening bell starts and Harley charges Loki who leaps out of the ring over the ropes. Harley follows. Loki dives under the ring and comes out with a shield and slams it into Harley's face sending the bigger man stumbling. Loki rushes forward and kicks Harley in the gut. He leans forward and Loki takes the shield and uppercuts Harley under the chin with it sending him flying back onto the throne.

Jim Gunt: Loki using a shield...

Mike Rolash: Disney gonna sue!

Loki poses for a moment with the shield and turns only to see Harley charge forward. Loki swings the shield, and Harley ducks. Loki turns and gets hit in the face with knee to face! Harley takes a moment to steady himself as Loki hits the ground. Harley looks down at the shield and grabs Loki. DDT onto the shield! Harley looks around and spies something in the crowd. He walks over and we see...Ataxia?

Jim Gunt: Hey look!

Mike Rolash: Why is he wearing that?

We see Ataxia is wearing a beard and a red robe. He holds up an aluminum mace.

Ataxia: Take this! It's dangerous to fight alone!

Harley cocks and eyebrow, but grabs the mace and starts to swing it around. Loki gets up and gets whacked in the head for their trouble right in the face sending Loki down to the mat. Harley puts the mace down for a moment and looks under the ring. He pulls out a bag and opens it up...it's got a plague mask in it! Harley tosses it down and then grabs Loki. He spies the throne and bulldogs Loki right into the throne!

Jim Gunt: And they say it's good to the king...

Mike Rolash: Can we just talk about how Ataxia is dressed like an old man giving someone a weapon...

Jim Gunt: I roll to ignore the troll and continue with my inspired commentary competence roll.

We see Ataxia right behind the two commentators with a DM screen from Dungeons and Dragons.

Ataxia: YAHTZEE!!

Mike Rolash: I hate my life...

Harley grabs Loki and picks them up. He tosses them shoulder first into the turnbuckle post. Loki grabs their right arm and howls in pain as Harley grabs the mace again...this isn't looking good. 

This proves to be true as Harley closes in and sizes Loki up briefly before delivering another vicious blow, meant for her midsection! They brace for impact and is able to get her arm in the way to protect her ribs… Their right arm. Synn collapses against the turnbuckles again and Harley tosses the mace to the side and in one fluid move delivers The Cuckoo’s Nest to Loki!

Mike Rolash: Harley with his slam into the turnbuckle he calls “The Cuckoo’s Nest!”

Jim Gunt: Well isn’t that ironic? 

Mike Rolash: What’s that Jim?

Ataxia swats Rolash in the back of the head with the screen as Harley shoots the half and covers Loki Synn! Clark Summits slides, as best he can in his robe, to count the pinfall!

ONE!

Jim Gunt: Harley Hodge, looking to end things early here!

TWO!

Mike Rolash: That’s all she wrote! The fat lady is…

THR… NO!

Ataxia: NOT singing. You suck at this game!

Ataxia once again swats Mike in the back of the head with the D&D mat as Loki tries to roll away from Hodge, looking for a reprieve. The Accelerator doesn’t give it to them, though, as he wraps himself around the back of Loki and locks in a rear naked choke! Loki looks to be fading fast as Summits once again swoops in and raises their arm, their head drooping low. 

Their arm falls once.

But then quickly raises back up again of its own accord. 

Mike Rolash: Looks like Synn is still in!

This time it’s Jim’s turn to face palm and Ataxia obliges by delivering an open handed swat to the back of Rolash’s head as Loki starts firing elbows at anything that they can land on. They raise their arm and their pointy elbow crashes down on Harley’s right knee, the sweet spot right beneath the kneecap. Harley’s grip loosens slightly and Loki takes the time to deliver more elbows to the same knee before Hodge lets them go and they scamper away and out of the far side of the ring, holding onto the apron to catch their breath. 

Harley stands to follow the elusive Loki Synn but is slowed slightly by limping on his right leg. If Loki noticed, she didn’t display it as she continues to keep her eyes down, trying to catch her breath. Harley makes it over to where they’re standing outside but before he can reach down to try and grab them, Loki blasts him in the side of his leg with what looks to be a lead pipe with a jester’s head on the end of it! 

Ataxia: Dear lord, she has a scepter. May all the deities have mercy on our souls…

Mike looks like he’s about to respond but Jim cuts him off and points up to the ring as Loki delivers another blow to the same spot and then places their scepter gently to the side, before tossing the ring apron onto the ring and diving under. Harley swears and hobbles over to the apron and gingerly gets out of the ring. He hobbles over to where Loki disappeared under the ring. He bends down to look underneath and quickly regrets his decision as he howls in pain and wipes at his eyes, which are watering like Niagara Falls. Loki gets out from under the ring, one hand holding a can of “Shark Repellant” or…

Mike Rolash: Is that a can of mace with a piece of paper over it that says Shark… Repellant? 

Ataxia: I think Loki has introduced Harley to her “mace.”

Jim Gunt: That could NOT have felt good!

In Loki’s other hand she holds a shiny ball in her hand which is covered by a boxing glove wrapped in more barbed wire. Her maniacal giggle can be heard by the fans in the first few rows as she strolls over to where Harley is trying to recover from being sprayed by Loki!

Jim Gunt: You don’t think…?

Ataxia: I’m afraid that Loki might just think that.

Mike looks between the two and refuses to add his two cents instead trying not to wince too much as Loki starts to deliver hard blows with the barbed wire encased boxing glove to Harley’s back! 

Loki Synn: DO YOU THINK YOU CAN OUT SHINE ME NOW HARLEY?!

Their voice is high pitched with a crazed tone to it. Loki delivers several more blows to Harley’s back and moves her way up to the back of his covered head. They don’t care though as they deliver blow after blow, finally tossing both the glove and ball on the ground and trying to get some more feeling into the arm that Harley had previously damaged. Loki swears slightly as Harley climbs to his feet and spins him around, delivering a vicious kick to the gut! Harley doubles over and Loki looks at the discarded glove before clutching Harley by his stupid hair, pulling him close and delivering a vicious DDT to Harley on top of the barbed wire! Loki rolls Harley over and goes for the pin!

Mike Rolash: Wait… Is this a falls count anywhere match too?

Jim looks like he is going to say something but turns to Ataxia instead. For his part Ataxia seems to be lost in thought as even Clark Summits comes over to ask if a Jester’s Ball match is also falls count anywhere. Ataxia seems to snap out of it as he pulls himself together, noticing everyone staring at him and shrugs his shoulders.

Ataxia: Uhm… Sure?

Clark rolls his eyes and runs as fast as his robe will let him to the opposite side of the ring, out to the floor, and gets to his feet to make the count!

ON...NO!

Harley gets his shoulder up, wincing and breathing heavily. Loki swears and starts to pummel Hodge with her fists before standing up and turning around, yelling at Ataxia that he did that on purpose! Ataxia excuses himself and stares down Loki, who only flicks off the commissioner. Suddenly the lights go out.

Mike Rolash: Ataxia, you really have to get on this, the amount of times the lights go out during a show is ridiculous, you better get that accountant straightened out to pay our bills on time...

The lights come back on and The Shadow is sitting in the throne in the ring, stopping Loki dead in her tracks. With a grim smile he lifts a jester figurine into view and with his thumb breaks off its head before flinging it at her. He stands up and gives her a deep bow, his eyes never leaving hers.

Jim Gunt: Wow, the mind games between these two are deep!

Ataxia: Oh yes, she has no idea what she is really messing with here!

The lights flicker off again and when they come back on, the ring is empty once more. Waking up from her trance, Loki quickly looks around for The Shadow, but the Dark Eminence is nowhere to be seen. She turns and runs at Harley! She is looking for a curb stomp on Hodge but before she can deliver Harley pops up to his feet and delivers a vicious one armed side slam to Loki, using her own momentum to pick her up and drive her on top of the barbed wire!

Jim Gunt: WOW! Turnabout is definitely fair play!

Mike Rolash: Look at Harley’s face though…

The three of them look across the ring where Harley Hodge has collapsed onto the barrier, breathing heavily, his face covered in the proverbial “crimson mask.” Suddenly, a gloved hand appears and Mike Rolash jumps slightly in his seat as Loki Synn climbs back into view, the barbed wire ball still squished into their back! They grasp at it and pull it away, bits of skin coming with it, blood oozing from the wounds. 

Mike Rolash: Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick.

Jim Gunt: I think for once… I might have to agree with you.

Loki lets out a banshee like warcry before charging at Harley, who side steps the jester and delivers a blow with their scepter! Loki doubles over and then flies backward as Harley delivers a massive upper cut to the number one contender! Loki stumbles backwards and lands on the turnbuckle. Harley lines them up and shakes out his knee real quick, making sure it is still up for the finish; before delivering a massive spear to!!!

The turnbuckle! Harley falls to the ground, on top of Loki Synn who collapsed there a few split seconds before, effectively dodging the devastating blow. Loki stands up slowly before taking the barbed wire ball, discarded from earlier and uses it to tie Harley Hodge’s hands together! He howls in pain as she delivers a couple boots to his face and picks him up roughly by the hair. They are a person possessed as they grab Harley by either side of the head and deliver vicious knee after knee to Harley’s face! She lets him fall to his feet before she laughs and curtsies for the crowd, who boo her. 

Mike Rolash: I… I’m… This is barbaric!

Ataxia: Corner a rat and this is what happens I’m afraid. The cat will get them eventually though.

Jim Gunt: Wait! It’s not over yet!

Sure enough the boos start to turn to cheers as Harley grabs ahold of the back of Loki and pulls himself up, catching her with a double fisted uppercut! She wheels backward and bounces off the apron before Harley takes her down with a back body drop into the throne! Loki lands unceremoniously, upside down on the lavish throne as Harley runs at Loki, and hits them with an inverted spear! The throne somehow doesn’t move, though it does rock back dangerously before coming forward, flinging both competitors forward. Harley lands on the ground, but before he can respond, Loki hops on top of him and wraps his arms further with the barbed wire! She once again picks him up and forces him backward into the throne! She wastes little time as she picks up the excess barbed wire from the ball and uses the rest to encircle Harley to the throne, tying him to the throne with the barbed wire! 

Mike Rolash: Just when you think you’ve seen it all…

Jim Gunt: I’m honestly not sure how this even got past the censors.

Ataxia: Oh look! I found my lucky penny!

He bends down and picks up a penny from the ground but his jubilee is quickly halted by Loki’s high pitched laugh as she backs up and gets a running start, delivering a massive boot to the defenseless face of Harley Hodge! His body remains defiant so she backs up again and gets another running start before delivering another boot to Harley’s face! She stays on top of him, getting close and laughing in his face, enjoying his defenselessness. Ever the fighter, Harley continues to struggle, further cutting himself, in all sorts of places, but forcing Loki to back off. 

Loki Synn: WHAT THE FECK… DO I HAVE TO DO TO KEEP YOU DOWN?!

The announcers are speechless as Loki yells once again and delivers another blow to Harley’s face. And another for good measure before pelting him with hard lefts and rights! Finally she backs up and laughs some more as Harley, still fighting spits at her. She mimics riding a motorcycle before flicking off “The Accelerator” and runs full steam at Harley, spearing the veteran and landing right in his midsection, driving the barbed wire directly into his midsection and into Loki’s shoulder! The throne tips backward and Loki rolls to stay on top of Hodge who is still struggling to break the bonds of the barbed wire as Clark Summits comes in to make the count.

ONE!

Harley struggles more as Loki puts their finger up to their lips to shush him. With her other hand she covers his mouth so his screams of protest are muffled. 

TWO!

THREE!

Loki hops up and raises their arms in victory.

Ataxia: So uhm. Congrats Loki! Such inspiration in that hard fought victory!

The crowd’s unhappiness with Loki beating Hodge subsides some as Ataxia continues from atop the announce table.

Ataxia: Now, I know you’re waiting with baited breath to hear our answer to your challenge, but it appears that you’ve forgotten about one… Other member of The Forsaken that you will be facing next week! I’m sure you’re just DYING to know who your new FRAND will be, but you will have to wait until next we...

The lights go out, bathing the arena in darkness, a foreign orchestral piece of music begins playing and green digital rain, like from the Matrix, plays across the screen. Silhouettes move on the entrance ramp.

Ataxia: Ah...Well the kid was always impulsive…

“In fearful day, in blackest night.
Let no evil escapes, as souls ignite
When all seems lost beneath evil’s might
Beware my power. Hope burns bright!“

The lights comes on as the stranger finishes the poem, throwing back the hood of his green and black jacket.

Jim Gunt: HOLY SHIT IT’S ZACH! ZACH IS BACK!

Mike Rolash: And I didn’t think the day could get any worse.

Without missing a beat Zach charges full pelt down the ramp, Loki beckoning for him to come get some from the bottom of the ramp as the young Zach meets her head on and tackles her with a Lou Thesz press! Zach unleashes brutal rights and lefts down upon Loki! She rolls and this doesn’t do anything but encourage Zach to hop off of the jester and pelt her midsection with soccer kicks to the ribs! Loki curses and grabs Zach’s leg at the next kick, pulling it and twisting, hoping to knock him off balance. Zach stumbles forward and Loki uses the extra time to roll out of the way and escape into the crowd! Zach again roars and is welcomed back by a cheer from the CWF faithful who have missed the hero this federation deserves. 
 

I am the Scourge

The picture switches to the catacombs of the Memphis arena once more, showing Tara Robinson running through the corridors in pursuit of...somebody. As she rounds a corner, she bumps right into a towering figure, bouncing back a foot or two, trying to regain her balance when a hand shoots out, grabbing her shoulder and steadying her. She looks up and then a little higher, the camera following her gaze, coming to rest upon the face of Christer "Fenrir" Lundmark, his gaze unwavering as he releases Tara's shoulder.

Tara Robinson: Mr. Lundmark, can I have a word, please?

Fenrir: Yes.

Tara: You pretty much flattened Festus Brewer earlier today, but while there is not much to ask about the match, it is more about your statement at the end, that, and I am quoting, "the twilight of the gods has begun". You are not even signed to CWF, so what context has this statement been made in?

The Swede looks at her stoically for a moment before raising her hand and microphone higher.

Fenrir: People have been following false gods and false idols for too long and this will change. 

Tara: What are you trying to say?

Fenrir: That anybody that is being idolized in CWF should be starting to worry, because their world will never be the same again.

Tara: Alright, big words, do you have anybody in particular in your sights yet?

Fenrir: Yes, the reborn archangel. Azrael, I will be your scourge and your false god will not be there to save you...

With that he turns around and walks off, leaving a baffled Tara behind.

Freddie Styles (c) vs. Dorian Hawkhurst (c)

Jim Gunt: Big words from the big man!

Mike Rolash: They guy is not even signed to CWF, how can they even give him any time on screen!?

Jim Gunt (muttering under his breath): I ask myself the same question every week.

Jim Gunt (in regular voice): And we have one more left now, right Ray?

Ray Douglas: The following match is tonight’s MAAAAIIIN EVENT!

Jim Gunt: And what a huge one it is ladies and gentlemen as two champions collide with MAJOR implications!

Mike Rolash: That’s right as the on a roll Smokin’ Aces and Glass Ceiling’s own Freddie Styles adds another strap to his shoulders here tonight.

Jim Gunt: Unbiased as ever, Mike. I wouldn’t be so sure of that prediction though, as Hawkhurst has been on quite a tear himself.

The lights go down, and all you see is a silhouette of a man, forming a diamond with his hands above his head as the opening riff hits... 

You don't know what you're doing, doing, doing....
That's where you're wrong!

As the song moves into the verse, the Glass Ceiling and Smokin’ Aces own Freddie Styles steps out from behind the curtain. The Tag Team champion just stands there in his hooded vest, hood over his head, bouncing from side to side with belt wrapped around his shoulder, before making his slow walk towards the ring. 

I — will — not — lose
(You don't know what you're doing, doing, doing)
Put somethin' on it!

Freddie slowly walks up the ring steps, slipping through the ropes. He then stands on the middle rope, holding one arm above him, before stepping down, and leaning over in a corner. He takes the hood from off his head, ignoring the booing crowd as he takes the vest off completely, tossing it to the floor. He then walks to the side of the ring, handing the Tag Title over to the time keeper.

Ray Douglas: This match is a champion vs. champion match, with both titles on the line! Introducing first- he is one half of the CWF Tag Team Champions, from Atlanta, Georgia….FREDDIE STYLES!!

Styles bounces around the ring as the fans inside the Bridgestone Arena continue to boo. “From the Pinnacle to the Pit” by Ghost begins to play as the lights go down and smoke fills the ramp. As spotlight sets upon the entrance, and “The Forsaken Demon” Dorian Hawkhurst stands in an open legged stance with his arms out. He is wearing a long, leather trench coat and his trademark “Forsaken Demon” shirt. As the lead guitar comes in over the bass guitar, Chloe Hawkhurst crawls out from behind her father. She pops up on her knees, copying he father’s pose while sporting a Mia/Amelia shirt of her own.

Ray Douglas: And his opponent, from Philadephia, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 287 lbs., accompanied by Chloe Hawkhurst, here is the “Forsaken Demon”, the two time Impact Champion….DORIAN HAWKHURST!!

Dorian and Chloe walk down the ramp to the ring, Chloe slapping hands while her father is all business.

Dorian slides into the ring and hold the middle rope up for Chloe to get in the ring. 

Jim Gunt: This one should certainly be an interesting affair, and to my knowledge the first time we have ever had a title unification match here on Evolution.

Mike Rolash: The titles aren’t getting unified you idiot, the winner will be both Tag Team and Impact champion.

Jim Gunt: Oh shut up Mike, you know what I meant.

Head official Trent Robbins rings the bell not realizing that Chloe hasn’t gotten completely out of the ring yet and immediately Freddie capitalizes, attacking Dorian from behind with a kick to his ribs as he attempts to get her through the ropes. The Nashville crowd show their disapproval for Styles’ actions by booing heavily, but he continues on with his attack, pulling Dorian away from the ropes and into the corner, laying into him with a couple more quick kicks to the stomach. The cocky Tag champion pulls in Hawkhurst for an irish whip to the far side of the ring but the Forsaken Demon holds steadfast, hitting Freddie with a shoulder block then transitioning over to instead sent Styles crashing all the way into the opposite corner. The big man comes rolling in like a freight train, SPLASH-MEETS NOTHING BUT THE TURNBUCKLES AS STYLES MOVES JUST IN TIME!

Jim Gunt: What an incredibly fast paced start to this matchup Mike, the fact that both of these men are willing to give so much of themselves so early in this bout just goes to show how much their respective titles mean to them!

Mike Rolash: That’s exactly what it is. Whoever holds the gold holds all the cards, Jim. They make the winner’s purse, they get all the bitches. Whoever’s the champ pays the bills.

Jim Gunt: What do you know about getting bitches, anyway?

As Mike completely ignores Jim’s jab at him, Freddie Styles begins to take advantage of Hawkhurst’s mistaken splash, lifting the big man up to the second rope and laying into him with an uppercut. Styles attempts to meet him on the ropes but Dorian smashes him with a forearm, and then leaps off the ropes to hit a nasty Front Dropkick off the ropes! Chloe riles up the Nashville audience to get behind her dad as he pulls himself back to his feet, looking first at the cheering crowd and then back to his opponent, all business as he lifts up Styles and clotheslines him. SAVATE KICK TO THE SPINE OF THE TAG CHAMPION! Hawkhurst pulls the crumbled up Styles away from the ropes and goes for the first cover of the match.

ONE!

TWO!

No! Freddie Styles rolls over, giving Dorian only the two count!

Jim Gunt: Incredible, hard-hitting offense by the two time Impact Champion, but although the attacks may have stunned Styles for a moment, it wasn’t long enough to get the pinfall.

Mike Rolash: What is that annoying little girl doing on the outside of the ring anyway, shouldn’t she be in school or something?

Jim Gunt: First of all, most school’s ended at least four or five hours ago for the day, Mike. Second of all, that is Chloe Hawkhurst, the manager and daughter of Dorian. I believe you’ve seen her at least a dozen times before tonight.

Mike Rolash: Doesn’t make her any less annoying.

Chloe somehow seems to overhear Mike not very quietly trash talking her, and quickly makes her way over to the announce table. Before Rolash can even say a word she knocks the headset right off him, and swipes a water bottle off the table as the Tennessee fans cheer with delight!

Jim Gunt: Uh oh, looks like you pissed off the wrong ‘little girl’, Mike!

Before Chloe Hawkhurst can actually do any damage to the CWF play by play man, her father Dorian exits the ring and holds her back, calming his daughter down as he says something in her ear. The fiesty Chloe looks like she’s once again going to attack, but it is actually Freddie who comes in unknowingly...WITH A SUICIDE DIVE TO BOTH HAWKHURST’S DRIVING THEM RIGHT AGAINST THE EDGE OF THE ANNOUNCE TABLE! 

Mike Rolash: Oh thank god. 

Jim Gunt: You better be thanking somebody, that’s for sure. You and your big mouth always writing checks that your ass can’t cash.

Mike Rolash: Let’s just get back to the match, Jim. I don’t know why you always wanna talk about my ass.

Trent Robbins goes to start to count out Freddie and Dorian but the Tag champion waves him off, pulling Hawkhurst away from the announce booth and driving a knee into his face before rolling him onto to the apron. Mr. Ballgame pulls himself up onto the apron by the bottom rope, stomping down mercilessly on Hawkhurst several times as the Tennessee fans once again begin to boo. Styles re-enters the ring pulling Dorian through the top and middle ropes, hanging the tips of his boots on the ropes on the way in. HANGMAN’S DDT SPIKES THE FORSAKEN DEMON ON HIS SKULL! Styles turns him over making the cover with the most cockiest of smiles!

ONE!

TWO!

TH-NO! DORIAN GETS HIS RIGHT FOOT ON THE ROPE!

Jim Gunt: Freddie Styles just about drove Dorian’s head through his shoulders, but luckily for the Forsaken Demon he was lucky enough to have just enough wherewithal to get his foot on the bottom rope.

Mike Rolash: Styles has got this match in the bag. Point, set, match. BALLGAME!

Freddie angrily rolls off his opponent, swinging his body around to kick the leg of Dorian off the ropes. He once again pulls him into the cover, this time hooking both legs.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Jim Gunt: Still not enough for Mr. Ballgame.

Mike Rolash: You done pissed Styles off now, Dorian.

Nearly erupting in anger, Freddie pulls Dorian up by his shoulder length hair, spitting right in his face before hitting him with a Spinning Heel Kick. The saliva of the Tag champion seems to ignite an anger in Hawkhurst himself however, as he comes right back with a spear to Freddie Styles and begins pounding down on him with relentless rights and lefts! 

Jim Gunt: Oh shit, you talked about Freddie Styles being pissed off. I think Hawkhurst is JACKED!

Mike Rolash: No, he’s Dorian you idiot.

After taking nearly a dozen hard punches to every inch of his face, Freddie Styles is finally able to pull his legs in between himself and Dorian and push off his opponent. The two men are back to their feet within a second’s difference in time, Styles ducking under the clothesline attempt from Hawkhurst, the Forsaken Demon turning around just in time to eat a PELE KICK from Mr. Ballgame! The Tennessee crowd and Chloe Hawkhurst collectively gasp as Dorian goes down hard, Styles immediately sensing the opportunity as he once again goes for a cover.

ONE!

TWO!

THRE-NO!

DORIAN KICKS OUT IN THE NICK OF TIME! THE CROWD BREAKS OUT IN CHEERS!

Jim Gunt: That was a close one, but as they say, close only counts in horseshoes and hand-grenades!

Mike Rolash: The only person I’ve ever heard say that before you was my grandfather who died ten years ago. The cause of death? Using too many overused cliches every day of his life.

Jim Gunt: That’s...pretty fucked up, man.

Freddie Styles slaps the ring, showing that he is clearly angry at the count of Trent Robbins. He pulls himself to his feet, deciding better of going after the ref and instead stomping down several more times on the chest and head of Dorian. Styles turns his attention to the nearest corner, pulling his opponent over to the ropes before making his way up them. KING OF THE F-NO! Dorian Hawkhurst gets his knees up just in time, and Styles lands on them HARD after hitting what would have been a perfect 450 Splash! Hawkhurst turns over slowly, hoping to take advantage of Styles’ miscue with a cover on him.

Jim Gunt: Rough landing there by Styles, that one could have cost him!

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT BY STYLES!

Mike Rolash: Damn it, if my man Styles would have hit that King of the Fall this match would have been just as his nickname says- ballgame.

Jim Gunt: Too bad he didn’t though, Mike, and now Dorian has “your man” right where he wants him!

Dorian Hawkhurst picks up the Tag Team champion off the canvas, removing his hands that still hold onto his ribs in pain to drive a knee right into them. Hawkhurst irish whips his opponent into the ropes, catching him with a HUGE boot on his return. The Demon of Sobriety now has the fans in the palm of his hands as Tennessee calls for him to end things with Styles, but suddenly the cheers turn to boos as Duce Jones and Jarvis King of the Glass Ceiling can be seen making their way down the ramp. 

Mike Rolash: Oh shit. Shit’s about to get real now!

Jim Gunt: Would you quit talking like Duce and Freddie already? Next thing you’ll do is start calling yourself MRK and go around starting rap battles backstage.

Mike Rolash: Dude, that’s not a bad idea.

Jim just raises his hands in the air out of aggravation, but outside the ring Chloe’s attention has turned to the arrival of King and Jones, as she runs up the ramp after them! Duce ducks under a wild lariat attempt from the crazed young Hawkhurst, but the momentum brings her right into a Spear to Jarvis! Before she can continue to damage King however, Duce Jones lifts her right off his fellow stablemate and tosses her like a paperweight across the ramp. He sprints up the ramp as she begins to pull herself up and D-TRIGGA KNEE’S HER HEAD OFF HER SHOULDERS! An incensed Dorian attempts to exit the ring but Freddie Styles stops him suddenly from behind, going for the surprise roll-up!

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FREDDIE IS NOW A DOUBLE CHAMPION!

NOOOO!! DORIAN ROLLS HIS SHOULDER AT 2.9999999!

And Tennessee once again erupts in cheers, stomping down on the concrete pavement below them to get their hero, their Impact champion back to his feet. Both him and Freddie get up at the exact same time though, both men coming to the center of the ring with thunderous right hands. Neither man is backing down, going at full force as the punches are hitting hard and heavy!

Jim Gunt: Holy crap, both of these competitors are beating each other senseless out here!

Mike Rolash: Freddie and Dorian going to be sporting some black and blue marks going out of this one.

Jim Gunt: Indeed, but neither man can really have that much left in the tank. It’s only going to take one more big time maneuver to possibly end this thing!

With Chloe finally getting somewhat of an upperhand on the Glass Ceiling and running them up the ramp, they are met by an angry Ataxia and Shadow who immediately begin brawling with them all the way to the back!

Jim Gunt: Yes! The Forsaken have chased the Glass Ceiling out of here, finally some order!

Freddie blocks what looks to be the hardest of Hawkhurst’s incoming punches with his forearm, finally deciding to use his feet for weapons this time by swiping the legs out from under Dorian. He runs against the ropes looking for a Leg Drop but only meets the canvas. Pulling the cocky Tag champion up by his neck, the Forsaken Demon tensely yanks him into the air and down like a sack of bricks to the canvas. CHOKESLAM! Dorian calls for the end now, thousands of fans getting on their feet as he sets up Styles for the Fall From Grace. 

Jim Gunt: Wait a minute, someone just jumped the barricade from the crowd. That’s Jimmy Allen!

Mike Rolash: Ha! It looks like this new Jimmy is FAR from finished with his old buddy Dorian!

Jim Gunt: God damn it, this is like highway robbery out here!

Dropping Freddie Styles to the canvas, Dorian completely turns his attention over to Jimmy Allen. The Forsaken Demon’s demeanor changes within the snap of a finger as he looks at his old friend like he seen a ghost, with Allen simply smiling a deranged but thoughtful grin back at him. Dorian and Jimmy go eye to eye, nose to nose, the tension between the two men so high that it could set Los Angeles ablaze. A heavily breathing Jimmy Allen simply ignores the pleas of his former friend, instead choosing to swing a right hand that Hawkhurst ducks under before delivering a shoulder block that nearly knocks Allen off the apron. BACKSTABBER! Styles is back to his feet and standing over a collapses Hawkhurst with a smile of his own. He waits for the soon to be former Impact champion to come to, just for a second. ATL STOMP! DORIAN’S FACE HIS THE MAT SO HARD A SQUIRT OF BLOOD BLASTS OUT OF HIS NOSE! 

“HOLY FUCK! HOLY FUCK! HOLY FUCK!”

Exuberating joy, Jimmy Allen begins to clap, dropping down from the apron as he watches his former friend Dorian Hawkhurst get yanked to the center of the ring, both of his legs being hooked from the confident Tag champion.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Ray Douglas: And you’re winner and NEW CWF IMPACT CHAMPION….FREDDIE STYLES!!

“U Don’t Know” starts to play over the speakers again but is barely heard through the screaming fans who damn near drown out the entire song. Freddie Styles is actually handed both his Tag Team Title and his newly won Impact championship by Jimmy Allen, who smiles back at the Glass Ceiling star as he watches him taunt the booing crowd with both of his title belts. Styles eventually makes his way out of the ring where Jarvis and Duce meet him on the ramp, the three of them sporting damn near every title in the CWF catalogue and shoving them down the fan’s throat the entire way. Sliding back in the ring, a sick and twisted Jimmy Allen waits on Hawkhurst to get to his feet.

Jim Gunt: Alright, this is enough of already. Jimmy Allen has shown just how low he will go to prove a point to his “friend” Dorian, but now the Demon of Sobriety is a sitting duck as Allen looks to put him out to pasture. 

GOODNIGHT PRINCESS! The Inside-Out Crescent Kick eats Dorian Hawkhurst alive, and Jimmy Allen is eating every single one of the boos coming from the FedExForum like they’re lunch at the Golden Corral buffet. 

Mike Rolash: I’m loving this new demeanor of Jimmy Allen, the guy has absolutely become unhinged!

Jim Gunt: Wait a minute, I don’t think he’s finished with Dorian, Mike! We need to get some help out here, for god’s sakes!

Mike Rolash: Jimmy has destroyed everything in his path here tonight, what a coming out party. I think I’m going to coin him the New Face of Destruction!

Pulling Hawkhurst up by his hair, Jimmy Allen trash talks him the entire way back up to his feet, finally slapping the taste out of the Forsaken Demon’s mouth, once again sending a pop of crimson from Dorian's now surely broken nose. He briefly is interrupted by two security members hurrying their way into the ring, but after clotheslining one of them and throwing another one right on their head, Allen turns right back to the dazed Hawkhurst. GOODNIGHT PRINCESS ONCE AGAIN! The New Face of Destruction stands over his former best friend with a nasty look on his face, finally taking his right hand and slowly wiping it across the face of Dorian Hawkhurst. Evolution 30 goes off the air with Jimmy Allen wiping the blood of his fallen friend turned foe all over his own face, laughing quietly as he does so.

Results compiled and archived with the Efed Management Suite


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