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AWC Fresh!


7th November 2006

Live from the Veterans' Memorial Coliseum (capacity: 13730), Phoenix, Arizona, USA

Introduction




A U T H O R : PIERRE HYDE

The screen goes to black then fizzles to life suddenly, the letters “AWC” flashing across in a brilliant white light. A moment of silence dominates, then, backed by “Way Away” by Yellowcard, images of AWC’s superstars appear, one after the other. The guitar plays softly first, then goes straight into a strong, powerful riff.


I think I’m breaking out
I’m gonna leave you now
There’s nothing for me here
It’s all the same


A pulsating white light continually lights up the screen, as shots of many AWC wrestlers in action are shown: Aimz, Pierce Lavelle, departing Legends The Furious Fists Of God.


And even though I know
That everything might go
Go downhill from here
I’m not afraid


A quick collection of highlights from Untouchable flash across the screen as the song moves into its chorus. AgentDash hitting the Death From Above 2006 on Jack Murphy; a burst of flame from Snowball’s mouth as Andy Murray defied Kasidy Drake; Garbage Bag Johnny nailing the Tragically Hipbuster to level the score with Paddy O’Shea.


Way away, away from here I’ll be
Away, away, away, so you can see
How it feels to be alone and not believe
Feels to be alone and not believe
Anything


George Cassidy: *yawn*


Truth Waters: On with the show!

Oestrogen Again




A U T H O R S : ADAM and SONYA

The camera shows a hallway in the backstage area of the arena as personnel move about. Turning the corner, Scott Taylor comes into view, dressed in baggy denim jeans and an unbuttoned dark blue sequined shirt hanging over his chest; no shirt underneath. His hair is down and surrounding his glasses covered face. The thin silver frames cover his emerald green eyes, which are obviously looking for somebody.


After moving further down the hall Scott opens a door labeled “Wrestler Dressing Room” by the sign next to it. Scott moves in to find Teresa Tomas sitting at a bench in Levi jeans and a black tee shirt adorned with the Miller beer logo. She looks up at him and immediately her demeanor goes cold.


Teresa Tomas: What in the hell do you want? Get out, damnit!


Scott Taylor: Look, we need to talk and we need to do it now.


Teresa Tomas: Screw you, Taylor! Get the hell out! NOW!


Scott just stares at her angrily, eyes narrowed. When he doesn’t move Teresa jumps up to her feet and stares up at him, the fact she is 5’7” and Scott is 6’3” does not seem to affect her at all. She just stares up at him matching the angry glare, breathing through her nostrils and just waiting for him to do the wrong thing.


After a moment Scott steps back and looks at her very seriously, holding up his hands to show he means no harm and only wants to talk.


Scott Taylor: Just listen. That’s all I need you to do. Look, Teresa…I’m sorry our match last week had to turn out like it did. It was out of line to cheap shot you like that with the elbow to the head. Plus, I ended up putting you in my finisher.


Teresa Tomas: If you want to stand there and remind me that you made me tap out last week I’ll be more than glad to remind you that I busted up your shoulder with Ole Reliable two weeks ago and you were still suffering last week. Want a replay of that?


She says coldly, arms folded over her chest and glaring angrily. Teresa doesn’t have time to deal with this stupid shit and only wants him to leave her the hell alone. Seeing the angry glare Scott holds up his hands again, in defeat this time.


Scott Taylor: I get it. I only came by to tell you that I wanted to wish you luck in your match against B.O.T tonight and…


Scott looks away suddenly, seeming to get shy all of a sudden. Or he is just hiding something, which is what Teresa catches on to.


Teresa Tomas: I got attacked last week! You did it, didn’t you?! You just couldn’t stand seeing me here in AWC when you’re planning your OH SO PRECIOUS COMEBACK!


Teresa shoves Scott away from her, her eyes narrowed and with just a hint of tears in them. She breathes deeply through her nose, her fists at her side and clinched. She doesn’t stop yelling. In fact, her voice only grows louder as she screams.


Teresa Tomas: Someone set me up! They sent me a rose at my hotel room! They sent me a bottle of Jack all wrapped up nice in black and orange paper…. that was spiked! THAT’S WHY I WAS DRUNK IN OUR MATCH LAST WEEK! THAT’S WHY YOU BEAT ME SO EASILY!


Scott Taylor: Teresa…


Teresa Tomas: SHUT UP! Then to top off the night some guy dressed like that queer from Scream attacked me! He was about your size too, Scott! You just can’t let what happened go can you? Even after three years!


Scott Taylor: I didn’t do any of those things! Honest!


Before Scott can get another word out Teresa runs at him and catches him off guard with a stiff right hand to the jaw. The former OSW World champion staggers back and Teresa hits him again, flailing her fists in rabid anger. Catching her wrists with his large hands Scott forces her to stop and stares at her with a red cheek after the attack. Saying nothing he pushes her away and heads for the door.


As she watches him leave the dressing room she glares with teary eyes, physically shaking…


Teresa Tomas: I hope Lavelle, GBJ, and Kae tear you apart tonight, you son of a bitch!

Just Passing Through




A U T H O R S : SONYA and JARRETT

No sooner had Teresa slammed her locker room door, another figure appeared in her doorway. In fact, the new visitor brought his hand up and stopped the door from slamming in his face. When she didn’t hear the door slam, Teresa turned on her heels. She felt her blood pressure rise half-expected to see Scott still there.


Teresa Tomas: Dammit! I told you to get the hell outta here!.... ohhh… what do you want?


The Top Rope Temptress spoke those last words dryly. She sat back on the bench and took a deep breath only to release a staggered breath. She was visibly shaking and inwardly cursing herself for letting someone get her so upset.


Her visitor, watched curiously. He knew her no more or less than she knew him. He had passed this ‘Scott Taylor’ just seconds ago but the man looked as if he was going to kill someone and he definitely didn’t want to be that man so he passed without a word.


Voice: Geeeze, you look like shit. Let me give you some advice. Go home. You’re obviously in no shape to perform in the ring tonight.


Teresa looked up and gave her visitor a long hard stare.


Teresa Tomas: You’re that B.O.T. guy ain’t ya?


She then grinned thinking this new guy got some nerve.


Teresa Tomas: Yeah, I’m fixing to kick your ass too.


B.O.T.: Well, aren’t you pleasant? Look, I just came down here to help you avoid yet another disaster.


Teresa stood from the bench and arched an eyebrow.


Teresa Tomas: Another disaster huh? And exactly how do you plan help me?


B.O.T. let himself inside and leaned against a locker. He gave Teresa a cocky grin and shrugged.


B.O.T.: By letting you leave, and not forcing me to do bad things to you in the ring.


Teresa Tomas: HAA HAA!! You’re so full of shit. You don’t even know who you’re talking to. Last week wasn’t my fault. I got drugged, but that didn’t get aired because of some technical difficulties. That’s beside the point. You’re invading my space and if you don’t do something about that soon, we’ll just have to start our match right here.


Showing no fear, Teresa approaches her cocky visitor, her eyes narrowed. B.O.T. raised a hand forward in defense.


B.O.T.: Not so hasty you feisty filly! As I said before, I’m only trying to help you. If you would just get sober, your drinking problem would be gone. Stay away from darken hallways in arenas and you won’t get your ribs broke. If you would have more self-respect and say no, there would be no more humiliating photo shoots. Finally, if you would just walk out now, you would save yourself further humiliation from me adding another notch to your losing record. I mean, that attack---


Teresa Tomas: (growling)…Get out NOW!


Before B.O.T. could say anything else, he is pushed out of Teresa’s locker room.


B.O.T.: One last thing Teresa. Smile sometimes. It would make astonishing improvements to your features.


For a response, B.O.T. received a door-to-the-face. He shakes his head with a girn. This match will be too much fun. He doesn’t leave however, without the final last word.


B.O.T.: See you in the ring cupcake!

Shrimpin' Ain't Sleazy I




A U T H O R : KRIS

The screen comes alive on the scene of Johnny Lexicon, the fans erupt, spurred by a boisterous and vocal core of stompers and chanters. He's dressed for his match with the Livewire title strapped firmly around his waist.


Truth Waters: That's reigning Livewire champion Johnny Lexicon, scheduled to put his title on the line later tonight against King Prawn Blue Ruin.


Johnny stands outside a locker room door, poised expectantly, his gaze intent when suddenly it bursts open and Midas scurries through and closes the door behind him. His golden suit is smudged with an odd looking substance and his face etched in horror.


Johnny Lexicon: Did you get it?


Midas swallows hard and tries to catch his breath,


Midas T Gold: Yeah. Yeah I got it.


Midas produces an orange t-shirt and Johnny snatches it away, unfolding it and holding it up to the light.


Truth Waters: That's an 'End the Empire' shirt, like the one Lexicon wore at Untouchable when he took that belt home.


Midas T Gold: It's horrible in there.


George Cassidy: It really is.


Truth Waters: How exactly do you know what the inside of the men’s locker room is like?


George Cassidy: ...


Johnny Lexicon: You're right, it's disgusting. The fact they're forcing us to share is one thing, but putting me with Kintu?


Midas T. Gold: What about your bag?


Midas peeks the door open and looks inside.


Johnny Lexicon: It's too late for the bag, c'mon I've got a plan.


Midas closes the door and turns to follow Lexicon as he heads down the hall.


Truth Waters: Lexicon looks like a man on a mission, I wonder what he's thinking.


George Cassidy: I'm betting it's about getting far away from the prospect of a naked LeVar Kintu.

Jack Murphy (c)
v s
Red Rock
C H A M P I O N S H I P : RELENTLESS
S T I P U L A T I O N : WEAPONS, RELENTLESS FRONTIER GAUNTLET
R E F E R E E :
A U T H O R : JAMIE FLETCHER

James Brunt: The following is a Weapons match for the Relentless title! Ladies and gentlemen introducing first...

“Blame Thrower” by Reuben triggers the crowd into hysteria. The Anti Hero- RED ROCK strolls out onto the stage in fine shape. The Surrey born and bred star, former AWC Relentless champion and future if he has his own way dives into the ring under the bottom rope.

Truth Waters: He's back George. The man with more potential than anyone… yet so stupid as to not use it.

George Cassidy: You mean he doesn't cheat?

Truth Waters: No, he doesn't exploit the correct opportunities Cassidy.

Truth chuckles as the ring announcer moves into the middle of the ring.

James Brunt: And his opposition...

“Burn” by Throwdown replaces Red Rock's theme and one of the AWC's finest wrestlers confidently struts out onto the stage. The current, the man who beat GA and that other dude last week... JACK MURPHY!!! The AWCites as ever are indifferent to Jack Murphy half divided by the odd stuff he does and the others (the smarks) love how he makes wrestling real... (he kind of chucks a few punches and a chop in to make it look like MMA) unlike the people Vince hire's to make it look real (they just make it look gay!)

George Cassidy: Can he overturn Red Rock and make it three in a row?

Jack Murphy saunters down the ramp without rush and makes it into the ring with little worry full of self belief after his previous weeks performances. However Murphy must know in the back of his mind that his body wants him to end this match quick. The past two weeks have been intense and the last thing he needs is the very fresh Red Rock to beat two bags of shit out of him. Yet this fear is minimised by his knowledge of Red Rock's ring rust.

James Brunt: Ladies and gentlemen in the corner to my right he is the challenger... You Anti Hero... RED ROCK!!!

Red Rock lifts his hand into the air excepting the fans appreciation. However before the ring announcer would even move onto the champion... Jack Murphy blindsides Red Rock taking the former Relentless Champion by surprise and in doing so exposing the event of his ring rust. Red Rock has no answer and is unable to fight back quick enough. Fresh off of two victories Jack Murphy brawling in crisp. His arms flow like swords swishing through the air laying into Red Rock with very little effort.

The ring announcer shimmys out of the ring as Murphy's dominance is shocking. Once a renowned brawler in the AWC Red Rock should have been vigilant enough to have forseen an early attack by Murphy. Holding his arms close to his head Red Rock does his best to block any clear shots to the face and keep the risk of serious damage down. Pushing up with his forearms Red Rock shoves Jack Murphy trying to barge him off but Murphy won't budge. Murphy is skillful enough to remain in control. Perched over Red Rock, Jack lands a haymaker into the right side of Red Rock's ribs causing Red Rock to lower his arms that where protecting his face.

ERROR!!!

One, two, three... fast, furious and destructive short hand punches straight to the face of Red Rock each landing within a millimeter of the over to cause increased pain to one spot on the face. To be honest right about now Jack Murphy must be thinking AWC have thrown Red Rock at him for shits and giggles but nevertheless Murphy needs to get over himself and not become complacent about the situation.

Getting off of Red Rock, Jack Murphy exits the ring and going over the ring announcer he barters in very dramatic fashion for his chair. Obliged the ring announcer moves to one side as Murphy snatches the chair. Climbing back into the ring Murphy hoists the chair in the air and SMASH HE NAILS RED ROCK WITH THE CHAIR. He's got double duty... he is doing this as quick as possible.

Jack Murphy shouts at the referee and points to the chair.

The referee gets down onto his knees.

Murphy begins to choke Red Rock out with the steel chair's end. Jack Murphy is draining everything out of Red Rock, he is going to make sure Red Rock has nowhere to go in this match.

Red Rock begins to go red.

Murphy notices that Red Rock is starting to pass out and drops the chair on him.

”Fuck him up Murphy, fuck him up!”

George Cassidy: Jack Murphy is going to put Red Rock back into the hospital.

Getting into his knees Jack Murphy pins Red Rock.

One!

Two!

RED ROCK KICKS OUT AFTER THE TWO COUNT.

Truth Waters: Jack Murphy will put Red Rock in his coffin why did Red Rock bother turning up if he isn't even at 100%.

Laughing Jack Murphy can't even believe Red Rock kicked out. Jack Murphy knows Red Rock rushed himself for this match, he knows this isn't the Red Rock the AWC feared. He defiantly knew he was getting himself an easy win.

George Cassidy: Jack Murphy is going to the corner of the ring.

Jack Murphy gets up onto the top rope. Off he jumps... “Ghetto....” No, Red Rock rolls over onto his side and Jack Murphy's feet absorb the shock of the ring mat. However Red Rock isn't quick enough to take advantage of his position. Jumping Jack Murphy avoids Red Rock's bear like hands swinging at his feet. Falling down Murphy's feet land on Red Rock's arms.

Murphy slides down onto the mat pinning Red Rock.

One!

Two!

Three!!!

DING DING DING!

Jack Murphy wins his first match of the night... question is can he make it two?

King Of Cool... Meet The Sultan Of Smackdown




A U T H O R S : TOM HOLZERMAN and ANDY

The scene is the locker room of The Scottish King of Cool. Andy Murray is sitting on his bench playing the new AWC Coast To Coast '06 game for X-Box 360. He, of course, is Andy Murray, laying the smack down on the computerized version of Pierce Lavelle.


Andy Murray: Take that, vile cretinous wanker!


Suddenly, his mirth and merriment are interrupted as his locker room door slams open.


Andy Murray: What the...


Murray turns around to see one Captain Suleimon staring him down.


Andy Murray: What's the meaning of this, mmmm!?!


Captain Suleimon: Just a visit from your friendly, neighborhood Triangles hopeful.


Andy Murray: Ah yes! Excellent! I trust you’ve popped by on this fine evening to tell me that you’re so totally going to own those fools tonight, right!?!


Suleimon rolls his eyes visibly.


Captain Suleimon: No, you blathering retard, I haven't sustained any blunt force trauma to my head, so I can assure you I won't be saying anything of that sort.


The Scottish King of Cool is taken aback by the harsh words.


Andy Murray: Whoa man! Chill out, the Scottish King of Cool is a lover, not a fighter! We’re on the same team here tonight yo, like, benefactors, or something.


Captain Suleimon: Please, you're no more a benefactor to me than you are an accountant or a physician. What's more likely is you're a leech, a slimy parasite who has decided to hitch himself onto the winning horse at the last minute. Well, I've just come to warn you about any attempts to guard your investment...


Andy Murray: Shut the hell up, you blood plop merchant! I’m not gonna interfere tonight; it would take a horrible, horrible man to interfere in such a match! Go Team Sully! Yeah!


Suleimon smacks his head.


Captain Suleimon: I see you're as stupid as you are bad at video games.


Andy goes to turn around to check on the progress of his game, but Suleimon starts talking before he can.


Captain Suleimon: I don't want your help. I wouldn't want you to urinate on me if I were on fire. I'm coming here and letting you know that if you have any ideas of trying to stick your nose in my business tonight, as Allah is my witness, I will drag your carcass through the streets of Edinburgh with a sign that says "I love England" taped on your back. Are we clear?


Murray screws his face up.


Andy Murray: Okay dufus, firstly, Edinburgh is practically English anyway, it’s rubbish! Secondly, if I was going to butt in, why the hell would I attack you? I’ve sponsored you, remember? Surely that would be to your own advantage.


Captain Suleimon: No, I don't think it would. Because if you're like any of your other idiotic brethern from the British Empire, you'll just louse it up and cost me the shot I so richly deserve in Triangles.


Murrr rolls his eyes.


Andy Murray: Whatever dude…


Captain Suleimon: Just stay out of my business.


Andy Murray: You know what? Fine. Just because I sponsored you doesn't mean I’m going to guarantee your victory! I’d miss out on a Triangles spot and see you lose in a fair fight than qualify for Triangles after a dubious victory! Now get your ass out of my locker room before I sic the badger on your ass!


Suleimon rolls his eyes again, turns and leaves. Murray goes back to his game to find that he forgot to pause it in the ruckus. Video Game Pierce Lavelle has just pinned Video Game Andy Murray after hitting the Whiplash.


Andy Murray: Oh you shitbox!

Discovery




A U T H O R : TRENT

A hallway in the backstage area of the Memorial Colliseum is oddly deserted – not the first place you'd expect to find a cameraman shooting footage. The intent is soon known as a figure lurks into view from behind a corner. Dressed in black from head to toe, the most noticeable article of clothing is a black balaclava that shields their entire face except for the whites of his or her eyes. The person isn't very tall, but short, thin, and rather nimble. This is proved by their tiptoeing towards a door that is seen on the left side of the hallway, presumably a locker room. They turn the door and sneakily enter the room, closing the door gently behind. This is the central point of the camera, as all sorts of noise erupts from the room. It sounds like furniture being thrown and the like. A few minutes later, the masked person emerges from the door. If his or her face were visible, it would certainly wear a grin of success.


Truth Waters: What the hell is this? What's going on? ... Did that masked man just make that room a disaster?!


George Cassidy: Ha! It sure seems like it, Truth. And what says it's a man?


Truth Waters: Well, I didn't see much enlargement in the chest area, although you make a good point. But bah gawd, whoever it may be, they need to be caught.


The unkown person darts out of the hallway. The camera shakes and moves forward – it is apparent the cameraman is making a bid to catch up with the fugitive. He comes to the junction and swings the camera both ways to which empty hallways are seen. Our view turns to the former hallway, which he begins walking back down. The screen goes black.


Truth Waters: Well, everyone ... we don't know what to tell you about that feed. Clearly some suspicious activity there ...


George Cassidy: Now we'll let the drama unfold. I love these types of things, Truth.


Truth Waters: You would, Cass ... wait!


The crowd turns their attention to the screen as it comes back to life, showing the same hallway from before. This time, we see AgentDash walking towards the camera. He veers off to his left and into the dressing room that the masked person escaped from only minutes before. The camera quickly moves in after him. He is in shock as he sees his dressing room, which looks like a tornado went through it. Misplaced furniture, all of Dash's personal belongings scattered all over. His wrestling bag sits empty in a corner, and its contents are strewn about.


AgentDash: What the fuck?!


He turns toward the camera. He looks pissed, and leaves his room abruptly like a man on a mission. The camera turns and sees Dash stalk towards a man who sports an AWC golf-shirt and is walking innocently by the hall. The employee looks up from his clipboard to see Dash only a few meters from him, shooting an accusing look in his direction.


AgentDash: Did you do this?!


Employee: ... What?


AgentDash: (points to dressing room) This!


Employee: (looks in dressing room) That's too bad.


AgentDash: Too bad?! I want to know who did it, and I want you to tell me.


Employee: For starters, it wasn't me. And I have no idea who did it, ask the cameraman!


AgentDash: ... And why would he do it?


Employee: I don't know? It's not like I have a reason to ...


AgentDash: So you're saying you did have a reason?


Employee: No. I don't have time for this.


AgentDash: I don't either. I'm going to get to the bottom of this.


The screen fades to black as Dash dashes away.

Raising The Stakes




A U T H O R S : MIKE WADE and PIERRE HYDE

Mike Wade is sitting at his desk, doing generic commissioning duties, when David Harber barges through the door, an angry scowl on his face.


Mike Wade: Ah Pearl what can I do for you?


David Harber: I'll get straight to the point, Wade; I'm sick of it.


Harber pulls out a chair and sits down with force; it whimpers under his aggression.


Mike Wade: To be honest Pearl if that was my nickname I’d be sick of it too… but I’m a little sketchy on why you’re here?


David Harber: (sternly) This is no time for jokes Wade. I've spent time and effort keeping Garbage Bag Johnny away from Pierce until Triangles, and everything's gone smoothly... up until you decided to stick your fat foot into proceedings and book them together in a pointless match against two no-hopers. What were you thinking?!


Harber slams his hands down on Wade's desk; the Commissioner jumps in fright .


Mike Wade: Whoa. Let's relax a little here Pearl. What was I thinking? RATINGS BABY! Yes people will pay to see GBJ and Lavelle fight each other but they'll also tune in to see them team together. It's all about the broader picture here Pearl. And let's not forget the famous saying "Anything can happen in AWC!!"


Harber grins.


David Harber: There's also, "What happens in Wade's office, stays in Wade's office." And most inconveniently for you, I have Kintu waiting outside...


He pauses to watch Wade gulp.


David Harber: That's what I thought. But that's not it, Wade! This isn't the first time! How about when Kasidy - who pays your salary - pitted Andy Murray against that very same Juggernaut for a contract? You just couldn't keep yourself to yourself, could you?


Mike Wade: Are you threatening me Pearl? Maybe you’re forgetting who you're talking to here. This isn’t some Russian bitch who happened upon the wrestling business. I’m a fucking AWC Legend. I’ve held almost ever title this place has to offer.


David Harber: Under whose authority, Wade? Mine. It's time you showed me some respect - I'm still Entertainment Manager, after all.


Harber stands from his chair and pushes it aside, placing his hands on the desk and leaning over the Commissioner.


David Harber: Respect, Wade. Something you certainly didn't show me when you told me you'd join The Empire, then TFWd me mid-ring in front of a television audience of millions.


Mike Wade: And I’m still a 09 and 3/4 lb professional wrestler and if your little tough guy routine continues I’ll slap the taste out of your mouth.


Harber sighs.


David Harber: You just don't learn, do you?


Mike Wade: Hey! Are you trying to say I’m dyslexic??


David Harber stops and stares into the camera, his pleading look saying it all.


David Harber: NO!!!


He turns to face the door.


David Harber: Kintu...


Mike stands to attention, readying himself for what he expects to walk through the door. He waits, and waits, and waits... and then... SMASH - the door flies off its hinges.


And Wade stares up into the eyes... of Prometheus.

Teresa Tomas
v s
B.O.T.
C H A M P I O N S H I P : NONE
S T I P U L A T I O N : SINGLES
R E F E R E E : SELENA SUMNER
A U T H O R : ADAM

Truth Waters: And here we are AWC fans! It’s time for the next match on the card for this, the first November edition of Fresh! to hit the airwaves!


George Cassidy: That it may be, Truth, but this is certainly a match that I am NOT looking forward to. We have to match our Resident Drunkard in a singles match. After what happened to her in her Lethal Lottery Tag Match, I don’t see this week going too much better.


Truth Waters: Come on, Cass, you’re way too hard on Teresa Tomas.


Truth is cut off as the lights grow dim. A red glow emits from the entrance. Within the glow is a silhouette of a longhaired female. Without warning a cannon is heard blasting through the speakers. White pyros explode from either side of the entrance ramp creating a thick blanket of white smoke. “Big Guns” by AC/DC floods the building. Teresa Tomas steps through the smoke. A cigarette hangs from the corner of her mouth. She is decked out in faded Levi’s and a black ¼-sleeve t-shirt with the words written in metallic chrome “What’s YOUR Excuse?” Teresa is walking a little slowly tonight with the tape around her ribs as she stops midway down the ramp to release a final puff of cigarette smoke before removing the cancer stick from her lips. She glances to her right, then to her left giving the fans an empty stare before dropping the burning butt to at her feet, then stomps it with her boot before making her journey to the ring.


James Brunt: The following contest is a singles match! Introducing first, she hails from Nashville, Tennessee! Standing 5 feet 7 inches tall! Teresa Tomas!


Truth Waters: This should be a challenging match for Teresa tonight, Cass. Last week someone spiked her bottle of Jack Daniels and now she has busted up ribs this week. Though you do have to admire her determination in still coming out.


George Cassidy: They always said idiots never know when to quit.


Teresa rolls under the bottom rope and stands in the ring, stretching. She seems far more sober tonight than she did last week. She continues to stretch as The strange pulses opening "Cowboys" by Portishead echo through the venue. The arena dims and all spotlights are on the entryway. When the bass kicks in, B.O.T. struts out. He stops and pivots a bit to show himself off to the crowd, then continues down the ramp into the ring. He gives it one more little spin before disrobing and waiting for the match to start.


James Brunt: And her opponent! Coming to you from Mooretown, New Jersey! He stands 6 feet and 8 inches tall and tips the scales at 296 pounds! He is…B.O.T!


James Brunt steps out of the ring as Selena Sumner calls for the match to start. As the bell dings Teresa and B.O.T begin to circle each other. Though Teresa is at a serious size disadvantage this does not seem to deter her as she eyes her opponent and waits for him to make the first move.


Truth Waters: This should prove to be a good match, Cass. Teresa is our company’s workhorse and the perfect person to help break B.O.T into the company.


George Cassidy: I still say she isn’t sober…I’m waiting for another performance of what we all saw last week in that Lethal Lottery Match.


Truth Waters: This match could prove interesting as B.O.T is a very well trained mixed martial artist and Teresa is traditional wrestling. Their styles should mesh nicely.


After a moment of waiting Teresa grows tired and charges the much larger B.O.T. He goes for a quick hook-up but Teresa uses her size to her advantage and slips behind him. She delivers a strong arm-slam to his back and follows this up with several more though they seem to do little to deter him. He spins around nailing her with an elbow to the face that floors her. Teresa groans as she lies on the mat favoring her ribs, stunned from the power of the elbow shot.


B.O.T reaches down to grab her, easily lifting her up. He Irish Whips Teresa across the ring towards the ropes and on the return he opens his arms, going to catch her for a Belly-To-Belly Suplex. With his powerful arms wrapped around he picks her up easily and tosses her back, slamming into the mat. Teresa screams out in pain, once again favoring her taped ribs as the fans “ooh!” at the impact and B.O.T goes for an early pin.


George Cassidy: And like that this match is over! Even if she WAS sober Teresa couldn’t compete with the likes of B.O.T!


Referee Selena Sumner slides down and begins to count as B.O.T pulls the stunned Teresa’s leg back to lock in the pin after the suplex.


One!


Two!


No way! Teresa thrusts a shoulder up escaping the pinning predicament. She is pulled up by her hair and throws her foot forward, sternly kicking B.O.T in the midsection. He guffaws at the kick and Teresa kicks him again before nailing him with a stiff right hand. She follows up the stiff right hand with another right, two lefts, a right, a right, a left, and three more rights. With the big man staggering from the surprise thrashing Teresa runs for the ropes and leaps up into the air, dropkicking her opponent on the return. B.O.T falls back but instead of going for the pin, Teresa dives on him with a Lou Thesz Press, fighting through the pain, and starts in with the right hands again.


Truth Waters: That’s enough, Tomas! This is wrestling not some cage fighting show!


George Cassidy: It’s all about survival, Truth! Teresa knows she has to give it everything she can give to stay alive in this match! Look at that fire in her!


The reign of closed fists finally stops when the referee grabs Teresa and pulls her off her opponent. She still manages to get in a kick to the ribs as she is pulled away and admonished for the closed fists. B.O.T climbs to his feet on his own though he is feeling rather wobbly. Teresa charges out at him and initiates a lock-up. Using her speed to stay one step ahead she sets up a DDT and falls backwards, pulling the large man down onto his head.


Rolling him over onto his back Teresa climbs to her feet and goes for the ropes again. Bouncing back she leaps into the air with a body splash and sets up the pin as she lies on top of B.O.T, pulling his leg back for the cover, gritting her teeth after falling on her still-mending ribs.


Truth Waters: Teresa needs to be careful here. Her ribs are still broken and the damage she takes in this match could put her out of action far longer.


One!


Oh! Not even a two count! The visibly angry B.O.T tosses Teresa off of him, sending her flying into the air and landing several feet away. Teresa gets up slowly after re-damaging her ribs and B.O.T is already up and waiting on her. Teresa is blindsided by the running clothesline and goes down in a heap.


Truth Waters: Ouch! I think we felt that clothesline all the way over here!


Yanking her up by her hair B.O.T picks up Teresa with ease and spins around twice before dropping her onto her back with a scoop slam. He delivers a stern stomp to the chest and then pulls her up again. Holding her by her long blonde hair he sneers and then tosses her into a corner. Not an Irish Whip mind you, but a literal toss just to demonstrate his immense strength. Teresa’s back slams full on into the padded turnbuckle and she slumps, hanging onto the ropes for support as she half-stands in the corner, visibly wincing from the pain in her sides.


Instead of following up on the maneuver B.O.T actually stops and begins to flex and strut for the fans, feeling safe with the incapacitated Teresa in the corner barely standing after the sudden offense.


George Cassidy: I’m all for being a show-off but this is just ridiculous. He has Teresa right where he wants her but instead of following up to end this match he’s gloating!


Truth Waters: I have to agree with you, Cassidy. Fanfare is one thing but risking a match to flex is a bad move!


Feeling that he has shown enough of his finely chiseled body for one night B.O.T looks back to the corner where Teresa is slumping. With a cocky and arrogant smile on his face he takes a step back and then breaks out into a run towards the corner, moving his massive body as fast as he possibly can.


George Cassidy: This won’t be pretty!


As B.O.T prepares for a body splash Teresa dives down to the mat and actually slips under the bottom rope to the mat outside the ring. B.O.T slams chest first HARD into the corner and staggers back, clutching his chest in pain. Realizing the opportunity before her, Teresa slides back into the ring and lands a sweep kick to the heels of B.O.T. He falls down and Teresa goes for an immediate pain while he’s still wheeling from slamming into the corner.


One!


Two!


Th…


Oh! So close! B.O.T pushes her away at the last millisecond to save this match. As he sits up Teresa is there to deliver a heel kick to the face that knocks him down again. Still in charge, Tomas runs for the side ropes and coming back delivers a standing moonsault to her opponent, though it’s obvious she is paying for it as her face writhes in pain.


George Cassidy: Where the hell did she learn that?!


Truth Waters: Beats me, Cass! But it sure did look nice and effective! Nice!


Still lying on top of him Teresa goes for the pin and Sumner drops down to deliver the count.


One!


Two!


He’s not going down that easily! B.O.T kicks out again and slowly starts to rise. Teresa grabs him by the hair and helps him up, delivering a few punches to the back along the way to make sure he stays dazed for her. Since he is too big to lift Teresa delivers a series of chops to his chest that cause him to step back with each one; until he’s had enough that is! Seemingly not fazed as much as was hoped for, B.O.T stops in his tracks and knees Teresa in the sternum, knocking all the wind out of her lungs.


As she doubles over in surprise and definitely in pain, B.O.T grabs a handful of her hair and pulls her forward into a Snapmare. Grabbing the waist of her camouflage pants he picks up the smaller Tomas and holds her high above his head in a vertical suplex.


Truth Waters: That can’t be good. B.O.T obviously has no problem keeping Teresa up there and all that blood going to her head can’t be good!


George Cassidy: You aren’t lying about that, partner! B.O.T is using this Stalling Suplex to prove a point! He wants people to know he’s strong and has the wrestling moves to go with it! This newcomer may just be a force to be reckoned with, Truth!


When B.O.T feels that he’s demonstrated his power enough he falls back, landing on his back and dropping Teresa down with a very well executed suplex. Reaching his feet he grabs Teresa’s hair and pulls her up with him. He delivers a knife edge chop to the chest and then he picks her up again, holding at her eye level and wrapping his arms around her body.


George Cassidy: Oh, man! That cannot feel good! Especially when you have busted ribs! That is… so… so… cruel! I LOVE IT!


Truth Waters: While this is a legal move for B.O.T to lock in that Bear Hug, it is a little low considering Teresa’s injury.


George Cassidy: It’s not low, Truth! He’s taking advantage of an opening to win this match!


Teresa’s eyes go wide and she screams out in pain as the pressure on her ribs increases. The referee checks in with her to see if she’s willing to submit but the fighting spirit of The Redneck Princess is too much. She keeps shaking her head as her sides throb with hot, white pain. B.O.T stands center ring with Teresa in his grasp, not about to let her go any time soon. He starts to apply more pressure and Teresa only yells louder.


Not willing to submit, even when in this much pain, Teresa uses her free arm to make a fist and slam it into B.O.T’s temple, bringing her fist down with as much force as she can muster in this situation. The shots barely seem to faze the big man as she just takes the punches, barely flinching.


George Cassidy: I’m surprised she’s still in there. Even a perfectly healthy person would have given up or passed out by now.


Truth Waters: She has a fighting spirit, Cass. I think Tomas will pass out from pain before she’ll give B.O.T the joy of hearing her willingly quit.


Teresa starts to fade. Her punches slow and her head starts to fall forward. Sumner grabs Teresa’s arm and lifts it, holding it up for a count before letting it drop down. Her arm falls quickly, not staying up at all.


ONE!


Again Sumner grabs Teresa’s arm and brings it up. Not responding at all Teresa’s arm falls down by her side again. TWO!


Truth Waters: I think it finally happened. Teresa put up a great fight in this match under these circumstances but the pain of being in that Bear Hug with her ribs was too much. This next count will be the end.


Teresa’s arm is lifted for the third time and as Sumner lets go the arm doesn’t fall! Teresa’s hand balls into a fist and her arm shakes rapidly in the air, showing signs of life! Her fans in the crowd pop as she shows them she is still in this. Both Sumner and B.O.T look on with surprised and shock as Teresa’s head lifts, strands of stringy blonde hair stuck to her sweat covered face.


George Cassidy: She’s alive! Tomas is still alive, Truth!


B.O.T drops Tomas onto the mat and watches her lie squirming, trying to get back up after staying alive through the Bear Hug. As she pushes herself up to her feet from being on all fours B.O.T is in front of her and waiting. Even after staying alive her body is so weak she can barely fight.


Truth Waters: I admire her tenacity but maybe she should have given up when she had the chance, Cassidy. She can barely stand and B.O.T is definitely ready to finish this now.


The big man scoops her up onto his shoulder and sets her into an Emerald Fusion hold over his shoulder. Easily holding the smaller Tomas he falls down onto the mat with her and wraps his legs around her neck, applying a Triangle Choke.


George Cassidy: Now THAT is one hell of a combination Finisher, Truth! That hurts me even over here! She may have fought through the Bear Hug but that is just too much!


Truth Waters: I know Teresa has a fighting spirit but this is too much, Cassidy.


As the referee checks in Teresa waves her hand, giving the signal for submitting. Sumner jumps to her feet and calls for the bell.


“Cowboys” by Portishead blares over the PA system as B.O.T releases the finisher and stands to his feet. Selena Sumner raises his arm in victory as James Brunt stands from his chair at ringside.


James Brunt: And here is your winner! B.O.T!


Truth Waters: And that’s the end of that match, wrestling fans! A hard fought effort by an injured Teresa Tomas against the gigantic B.O.T but this was too much for her to handle. B.O.T manages to snag his second win here in AWC with this one.

Retreading Amnesiac Revelations I




A U T H O R : PIERRE HYDE

Dr. Robert Alterman lived a cosy, sheltered San Francisco life. His house was one of the smallest in its area, but that area was Pacific Heights, playground of the rich. He rubbed shoulders with such esteemed neighbours as Danielle Steel, Lars Ulrich and Robin Williams; Sharon Stone and Francis Ford Coppola moved out a while back. He sent his two boys to Drew College, where they learnt the skills to one day grow up and be rich and respected like daddy. His ex-wife Vivian was in Canada now; nobody ever talked about her. He’d had girlfriends, but was discreet about them; no one doubted the integrity of Dr. Robert Alterman, America’s leading psychotherapist.


Not even Sasha Volkyeva.


The bruises were still visible; the vivid lumps had gone to make way for mild greying of the skin, but passers-by would still look, and wince. The physical hurt wasn’t what worried Sasha, though; it was the mental side of things that was the trouble. Dr. Robert Alterman agreed.


“It’s important,” he stressed, as “Mother Russia” surveyed him neutrally from the prim chair she had selected ahead of the soft leather couch, “that you cooperate fully with me. If you can’t do that for me, Sasha, we’re not going to get anywhere fast.”


Speed wasn’t an issue for Dr. Robert Alterman, though. His clientele was very exclusive, and he made sure to always keep his patient roster to a maximum of ten – he enjoyed his leisure time, and it also meant that he could be available at almost any time in case a patient wished to come in at short notice. (This, of course, incurred an extra charge, but Dr. Robert Alterman left this to his accountant.)


“Of course,” Sasha intoned in her soft Russian accent. Her voice was quiet and low, almost trembling with the indignity of breaking the silence, however short it might have been. Silence was hard to come by nowadays.


“Do go on, then,” Dr. Robert Alterman probed. Evidently this session had already been going on for some time.


“He was…”


Dr. Robert Alterman waited patiently, being sure not to sigh. Sasha Volkyeva had started this sentence time and time again over the last ten minutes, but could never bring herself to finish it. Dr. Robert Alterman, well, he was braced for the worst.


“He was…”


“What was he, Sasha?”


His tone was gentle; chocolate to the ears. On another day, in another place, in another state (of America and of mind), Sasha might have been taking an entirely different line (that which she took with Jack Murphy, perhaps).


“He was…”


Her throat was dry, and she just had to blink; once, twice; seven times; twelve times… there was something stopping her… and she just couldn’t be right…


“He was…”

Jerks And Asshats




A U T H O R S : ADAM and JONNY

The attractive Maddy Estelle stands backstage in the arena, in front of an AWC backdrop with several monitors around her. As the camera pulls back to show more of her surroundings her attention is suddenly turns to something just out of focus of the camera.


Maddy Estelle: Scott! Scott, wait up!


Scott Taylor, dressed in his ring attire but still wearing the famous sequined shirt, stops and turns back to look at her. He looks less than enthused as she approaches him with the microphone and cameraman in tow. He folds his arms over his chest and waits for her to start.


Maddy Estelle: First off, Scott, welcome to AWC and congratulations on your big win in the Lethal Lottery last week.


Scott Taylor: Thanks for the welcome. The match wasn’t really too big a deal. Darcy and I worked well together and we were able to come out the winners. He was a great guy, I wouldn’t mind working with him again in the future.


Scott pulls a strand of loose hair from his face and tucks it behind his ear, his eyes looking down the interviewer awaiting the next question. As she pulls the mike back to speak into it herself Scott sighs, obviously feeling uncomfortable with the interview tonight.


Maddy Estelle: Tonight you’re involved in another match, a Tandem Tag Match pitting you against Jonny Kae, a man you shared words with two weeks ago, fan favorite Garage Bag Johnny, and AWC’s Living Legend Pierce Lavelle. This match is going to be four wrestlers in the ring at once since everyone is legal yet you’re being paired with someone you don’t exactly see eye to eye with.


Scott Taylor: Yeah, well, we’ll have to see how that works. I worked a tag match last week and we all know how that went. We’ll just have to wait to see if Jonny Kae is up to this and willing to look after me. If not, forget him then. Everyone is legal so if he isn’t feeling like supporting me tonight, I can handle myself.


Maddy Estelle: I can’t help but notice, Scott, that you seem a bit distracted tonight. Is there something else on your mind? Is it anything to do with wrestling Teresa Tomas in the Lethal Lottery last week?


Scott’s face suddenly turns angry and he narrows his eyes, snatching the mike from Maddy’s hand. He takes a step toward her and speaks harshly.


Scott Taylor: You’re right, Maddy! My mind isn’t on this interview tonight! It does concern The Redneck Princess! It’s not that I had to wrestle her last week; it’s not that the match was won when I made her tap out! The problem is someone attacked her last week after the match was over! Someone trying to frame ME!


Jonny Kae: Don’t you think that’s a big improper to be yelling at a lady like that, Scooter?


The camera pulls back as Jonny Kae steps into view decked out in his red trunks, obviously ready for the upcoming tag match. He folds his most perfectly attuned arms over his most perfectly attuned chest and glares down at Taylor, eyes narrowed.


Scott Taylor: What the hell is this? You just couldn’t wait to get at me before the match, huh? In case you’ve forgotten asshat, we’re on the same team.


Jonny Kae: Oh, I know. Isn’t it a shame that they put some two-bit newbie like you in the ring with me and expect us to work together? I know Darcy was willing to share the ring with you last week, but then again, he seems to be okay with helping school new kids.


Scott steps forward, looking intent on shutting up his tag team partner before they ever hit the ring but stops before he hits him. He exhales deeply and steps back.


Scott Taylor: This is stupid. If I take you out now I won’t have a partner to take on Lavelle and GBJ in a few minutes….


Jonny Kae: I think there are more important issues to be concerning yourself with right now, Scotty. How is Teresa?


Scott Taylor: What the hell does she have to do with this? Leave her out of this, Kae!


Jonny holds up his hands and shakes his head.


Jonny Kae: I’m only interested in knowing how she’s doing. I saw her struggling with those taped ribs in the match earlier tonight. How is she?


Scott Taylor: She’s fine… she’s had worse injuries in her career….


Jonny smirks as he notices the slow response time and the sudden drop in volume in Taylor’s voice. He takes another step towards Taylor and nudges Scott’s shoulder with his fist.


Jonny Kae: Let me ask you this, Champ. Some guy in a mask attacked Teresa last week and busted her up. You were the last one to see her before the attack…


Scott looks up and sneers with gritted teeth. He says nothing and instead pushes Jonny away and storms off, heading in the direction towards the ring. Jonny watches him go and then turns to Maddy Estelle who has been quiet during the whole altercation.


Jonny Kae: What a jerk, huh? Think, I have to work a tag team match with him tonight.

State Of The Crisis




A U T H O R S : NATHAN and LARA

Without warning, a piano begins to softly play as some infamous lyrics overtake the arena, words that most probably hoped they'd never have to hear again...


“Yo, listen up, here's the story... about a little guy who lives in a blue world,
and all day and all night everything he sees is blue, just like him, inside and out... ”


As the opening chorus of Eiffel 65's “Blue (Da Ba Dee)” overtakes the arena no one seems to know what to make of it as they wait on in anticipation.


Truth Waters: What the... whose music is this? Are we about to have an unscheduled debut here?


George Cassidy: If we are, I hate him already. I can think of a long list of things I'd rather do than listen to this Eiffel Sixty-crap any longer... up to and including poking myself in the eye with a cattle prod.


The mystery doesn't continue for long, however, as... Darcy CRISIS?... steps through the curtain with the AWC Frontier Title around his waist. He does his best to avoid the clearly audible round of boos at his choice in musical accompaniment as he makes his way ringside.


James Brunt (in a confused, slightly subdued tone): Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the AWC Frontier Champion, Darcy Crisis...


Truth Waters: It's our Frontier Champion, Cass!


George Cassidy: Alright, that's it! Crisis has done nothing but try to piss me off since he got here. I've held it in as long as I can, but Blue-Da-Ba-Da-Da is simply over the line! YOU'RE GOING DOWN, DARCYMAN!


Truth Waters: Cassidy, sit down!


Truth does his best to restrain Cassidy as Crisis is now in the ring, reaching through the ropes in request of a microphone. He receives it, and wastes no time breaking into conversation.


Darcy Crisis: Alright, bitches and hoes... listen up and listen up good, cause I've got something important to get off my chest...


Again taken aback by his theme music and new sense of demeanor, the crowd buzzes with confusion, waiting for him to continue.


Darcy Crisis: I don't do this very often, but things have been a little hectic for the ol' Darcinator as of late, and I thought it was high time I spoke my mind on a few subjects of note. So prepare yourselves... it's time for the State of the Crisis Address!


Evidently having worked this out beforehand, the camera pans out to a crowd shot as an infographic flies into view, as the phrases “STATE OF” and “THE CRISIS” slam into each other with an accompanied fiery explosion. The camera quickly slides back to Crisis, who smiles at seeing the graphic appear on the big screen.


Darcy Crisis: Let's wind our clocks back a few weeks to that main event at Untouchable, shall we? I came up a little short on that night, but truth be told... I couldn't be happier with the outcome. There are three things I love about my life... this Frontier Title around my waist, the opportunity to perform for all of you for a living... and number three, far outranking the first two by a longshot, is that I'm actually going to marry Amy Campbell. Believe me, I'm scared, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't... but I've got way more love than fear in me. And I just wanted to let you guys in on a little surprise... I don't know where, and I don't know when, but sooner or later yours truly is going to find himself starring in a wedding. And since I couldn't imagine going through with it without all of you to back me up, I found myself left with only one option: Somewhere, in the not-so-distant future... AWC will officially and proudly present to you the Aimz/Crisis Betrothal Extravaganza!


Truth Waters: What? A wedding, right here on AWC programming!


George Cassidy: *gags*


Darcy Crisis: No details on that as of yet, but it's something you can look forward to down the road. Now then, on to some more pressing matters... since Untouchable, it's been a whirlwind for me. I've had approximately 87 matches in the past three weeks... at least, that's what it feels like, anyway... but I've risen to the challenge every time. Here we are, at the end of this Frontier-Relentless Gauntlet, and your Frontier Champion is still riding high, baby!


Now Crisis has the crowd behind him, popping for his recent win streak.


Darcy Crisis: But recently, I noticed something on the AWC website... a little blurb that has me projected as THE big star... of two-thousand SEVEN. Now don't get me wrong, I'm flattered anytime someone takes the trouble to sing my praises, but the fact of the matter is that I signed here almost exactly a year ago. In that year alone, I've been in Landfill matches, Seaside Diner brawls, Sailing Barge matches, No Love Lost matches... and to top it all off, I've locked down the third longest Frontier Championship reign in AWC history and counting. But evidently, that's not enough to make me a star...


George Cassidy: Didn't Darcy lose all those matches he just mentioned?


Truth Waters: I'm glad we can always count on you to rain on the parade, Cassidy.


Darcy Crisis: Now I take a look around here, and I've noticed the landscape is quite different than when I first signed on. A lot of the big names around here have moved on. Paddy O'Shea – gone. The Martin brothers – gone. Adam Dick – gone, although he keeps popping up for strange reasons. Mikey O'Reilly - ... .just kidding.


The announcers can't help but chuckle along with the crowd at that one.


Darcy Crisis: So I bet many of you are wondering right now of my recent choice in theme music. Don't worry, don't worry, it was only a one-shot deal – just to prove a point. But before we get to that, I'd like everyone to take a look at something that happened last week. Roll it!


On the big screen plays the clip of Darcy's confrontation with Pierce Lavelle.


... Pierce Lavelle: See, it’s not nice when people stick their noses into somebody else’s business.


Lavelle nodded and turned to leave, but stopped, thinking for a moment.


Pierce Lavelle: So mind your own damn business Darcy, otherwise it might end up lip-locked with Michael Sloan again.


Gritting his teeth, Darcy spoke very slowly.


Darcy Crisis: You know, come to think of it... I think I can make some room on my dance card after all. But I believe you were on your way, Lavelle?


Lavelle stopped and turned on his heels, his eyes focusing fully on Crisis, his nostrils flaring with anger. Perhaps this wasn’t the best time for a confrontation, but he knew had nothing else to lose. He began to approach Crisis once more.


Pierce Lavelle: Actually, looks like my schedule just freed up.


 The clip ends, with the camera panning back to view Darcy in the ring once more.


Darcy Crisis: Now, listen. I feel bad for provoking the guy – he's clearly disturbed. But GodDAMN, that got me fired up! Pierce Lavelle, first member of the illustrious Roll of Legends, all set to kick my ass!


Darcy indeed looks fired up, appearing very animated as he whips himself around to work the crowd up with him.


Darcy Crisis: Now let's be honest about something here. A lot of bullshit has been going down, to which I haven't made so much as a peep. Two matches in a night. This ridiculous fast-count business brought on by those Imperial chowderheads, to which our esteemed Commissioner Wade hasn't lifted a finger to address. Night after night of title defenses. Now, to top it all off, I've got to kick my fiancée's ass if I want to keep this title. But like I said, I've kept my mouth shut – I haven't bitched, moaned, complained, or asked for a single thing. But now that I think about it, there is something I'm asking- nay, begging for.


George Cassidy: Eiffel 65 tickets?


Darcy Crisis: You see, there's a reason I'm feeling blue lately. It seems that somewhere in those 87 matches, I managed to qualify for the main event at Triangles. I'm still trying to wrap my head around how the damn thing is supposed to work, but from what I can gather, there's going to be a red, green, and a blue triangle, the last of which you can find Pierce Lavelle. Now I don't know who's in charge of these thing, whether its Pearl, Wade, Teresa Tomas or Blue Ruin, or Lavelle himself. But whoever it is...


Darcy gets down on his knees, facing the curtain again.


Darcy Crisis: I'm on my knees here... I'm begging, BEGGING you to put me in that blue triangle so I can get a crack at Pierce Lavelle. For the love of God, make this happen. Because I'm sick and damn tired of being lauded as the next big thing. Mark my words, if I get my hands on Pierce Lavelle... not only will I teach his ass a lesson about selling your soul to the devil, I promise you that I'll become THE big star of here, now and forever!


Now clearly psyched up, Darcy rips off his “CRISIS TIME!” t-shirt, throwing it to the wayside.


Darcy Crisis: That's right, folks, I'm laying down the challenge! Pierce Lavelle, your days of playing monkey boy for the Empire are numbered... because you can consider your ass targeted for DARCINATION!


The crowd's cheers are silenced by the heavy drums of "Happy" by Mudvayne. A roll of thunder hits the screen as images flash to and fro. The fans immediately recognizing the music don't know whether to cheer or boo for the man that is now stood proudly on the stage, a smug grin on his face.


George Cassidy: Now this is what I'm talking about.


Truth Waters: Pierce Lavelle has come out to address the situation.


George Cassidy: About damn time...


The music rattles on with the lyrics booming through the stage with a heavy bass background. Lavelle begins to walk with a slow and mellow pace toward the ring, Crisis looks on as though he were expecting Lavelle not to show up but soon smiles as he realizes he could get that confrontation after all. Instead, Lavelle slides into the ring having grabbed a microphone. Cassidy is on the edge of seat, panting for a brawl.


George Cassidy: Come on kid, kick his ass!!!


Truth Waters: Since when did you become a Lavelle shipper?


George Cassidy: He's a legend, Truth. Who wouldn't!


Truth Waters: *rolls eyes* I'll never understand you...


The music dies and the fans boos become apparent as Lavelle is stood face to face with Crisis in the middle of the ring.


Lavelle looks to the crowd, displeasure written across his face.


Pierce Lavelle: Could you please shut up, I'm trying to have a conversation with the “Darcinator!”


Lavelle says, smugly. The crowd meets his jeering with a cacophony of boos, having no effect on Pierce Lavelle.


George Cassidy: Nice. Telling it like it is!


Pierce Lavelle: Quite an impressive little spiel, Crisis, but I thought I told you to stay out of my business. But you so desperately want to fight me, don't you?


Crisis looks at Lavelle quizzically.


Pierce Lavelle: So much so… that you are out here on your hands and knees.


Lavelle smiles and moves toward Crisis, as he rises from the semi-humiliating position to meet Lavelle face to face..


Pierce Lavelle: I'm sure it's an image that Aimz is used to seeing, but you could've saved us the bitter image.


Crisis's hackles rise as he inches closer to Lavelle, anger burning within them.


Pierce Lavelle: What? Did I say something? Am I pissing you off, Crisis?


Lavelle shoves Crisis back and places the microphone slightly lower to his lips, his eyes lingering on Lavelle.


Pierce Lavelle: Because you're pissing me off! I warned you. Told you. To stay out of my business... but you're out here, obsessed with the idea of teaching me a lesson, I believe you called it. Well…OLD MAN… I'm right here… Take your best shot…


Lavelle lowers his hand with the microphone still gripped in his fist, his eyes burning a hole through Crisis as he mouths the words "hit me".


George Cassidy: Oh, it's about to kick off.


Pierce Lavelle: Come on! It's what you want… fucking HIT ME!!!


The crowd are taken a back, silence seems to linger more so than the boos and chanting that whisper through their mouths as they gaze into the ring at the heated fury that both men seem to hold for one another. With the tension mounting, Darcy appears to be the first to blink as he steps back.


Darcy Crisis: No, no, no... you've got it all wrong, son! I don't want to fight you... I want to wrestle you. If you really had your heart set on it, we can throw down right here and now. You could kick my ass, I could kick yours... really, where would we be? But we could also do this the smart way. If it just so happens that we save it for Le triangle bleu... now that would really be something, wouldn't it? Two of AWC's finest seeing who does their craft just a little bit better than the other?


Pierce Lavelle: And what makes you think you are that damn good?


Darcy Crisis: Because I'm going to beat your sorry, David Harber stool-sniffing ass!


Pierce Lavelle: That's original... no, brilliant.


The hint of sarcasm leaving Lavelle's mouth is drowned out by cheers for Crisis who mops them up with a toothy smile.


Darcy Crisis: Now... once again, I'm going to spare you the humiliation of your biggest mistake by being the better man and heading backstage to get ready for my match. But have patience, dear Pierce... we'll see what fate has in store for the both of us at Triangles. Believe me, I'm sure something will be arranged...


With that, Darcy tosses the microphone aside as the chorus of “Blue (Da ba Dee)” hits again. He keeps his eyes focused on Lavelle as he rolls beneath the ropes and heads backwards up the ramp. Lavelle can be seen shouting something inaudible at the Darcinator, as he points at Lavelle, then to himself... then holds both his arms aloft, in the shape of a triangle.

:O Wadey!




A U T H O R : PIERRE HYDE

Blue Ruin: …so I was like, AHA! A King Prawn! And it kind of went from there really…


As interesting as Blue Ruin’s explanation of the initial confrontation between him and B.O.T. is, Aaron Davies can’t help but turn his head at the intrusion of Juggernaut Kintu into the locker room. He’s a terrifying sight – approaching seven feet of artificial muscle, pumped full of the Prometheus Serum, bulging and tensing and squeezing…


And covered in blood.

Future Suspects




A U T H O R : TRENT

Close-up of Maddy Estelle that is almost frightening, but it fades away to show the interviewer next to AgentDash, whom we saw earlier in the evening in a fit over his locker room being destroyed. Estelle has a microphone in hand, and raises it to her lips.


Maddy Estelle: I'm here with AgentDash, who has requested some camera time this evening. What are your thoughts on your locker being destroyed, Mr. Dash?


Dash swipes the microphone from Estelle.


AgentDash: I don't mean to be rude, Ms. Estelle, but I asked for a camera, which is all I need. An interviewer really isn't necessary.


Maddy Estelle: It's procedure. Why didn't you just do an in-ring?


AgentDash: In-rings are overrated and just not my thing. Being under a public magnifying glass is something I'd rather avoid. On the other hand, though ... (looks at camera) ... I'm doing this little skit for one reason – to call out the person who had the balls to put on a mask and turn my locker room upside down. I've seen the footage. And yes, I know exactly who you are, and that you're probably listening to me right now. Did you really think you could get away with messing around with a former CIA agent? What do you think, Ms. Estelle?


Maddy Estelle: I ... I'm not sure.


AgentDash: I didn't think so. I was in the intelligence agency for a reason. I don't need days to figure out what kind of person would put on a mask and invade someone's private space without having the balls to confront them. Instead, I'm doing the dirty work. I'm making the right move, and I'm giving this person until next week's Fresh! to own up to their deed.


Maddy Estelle: ... and if not?


AgentDash: Quiet. I was getting there, Maddy. If this person doesn't own up, well ... they will suffer the consequences.


Maddy Estelle: That's a little cliche, isn't it?


AgentDash: If only it were that simple. Thanks for your time, Maddy.


Dash hands her the microphone, and leaves the scene. Fade to black.

Pierce Lavelle and Garbage Bag Johnny
v s
Jonny Kae and Scott Taylor
C H A M P I O N S H I P : NONE
S T I P U L A T I O N : TANDEM
R E F E R E E : LARS LARSSON
A U T H O R : TRENT

Truth Waters: Alright, everyone ... we're back with more Fresh! action!


George Cassidy: Indeed, Truth ... a tandem battle with Pierce Lavelle teaming up with Garbage Fag Johnny – and by 'teaming up', I really mean 'smacking around'! What a joke of a match ... Mr. Champ has no chance in this one – he's teamed up with his biggest rival!


Truth Waters: But you're forgetting, George, that Lavelle has gotten quite greedy lately. Would he forfeit a win just to one-up his adversary before Triangles? I think not!


George Cassidy: In any case, how can they beat the monster that is Johnny Kae?


Truth Waters: I'm more interested to see what Scott Taylor has to offer in his second match, up against the AWC legend and Garbage Bag Johnny! Call it a friendly welcome to AWC, Taylor ... and I'm supposed to be on your side.


George Cassidy: He is an OSW legend, I'll give him that much.


Truth Waters: I think that's been established ... this should be an interesting encounter.


The arena grows gently quiet, as the lights slowly dim, almost eliciting their change of mood. Four lights above the titantron suddenly switch on, glaring into the audience, as the opening riff to "Seek and Destroy" by Metallica hits the PA system.


Truth Waters: Not sure I like this song – I'm more of a 'crunk' fan, myself.


The titantron comes to life, as the name of Jonny Kae flashes in vacillating red and white text/background schemes. After two lines of the opening riff, the entrance way explodes with pyro, and Jonny Kae appears from backstage, wearing his trademark red trunks, white elbow pads and knee pads, and black boots.


Truth Waters: Uh ... why is this creature still wearing tights?


As he slowly makes his way down the rampway, his arms raised in the air, like a conquering emperor in Roman times, the crowd boos incessantly. He hesitantly turns a full three hundred and sixty degrees, to allow his unadoring audience the chance to appreciate his fine physique, his plastic smile emanating from his arrogant appearance.


George Cassidy: Look at that monster!


Ghost of Steven Smith: Whoa-woo-oh.


Kae finally turns and continues down the rampway, red and white pyro exploding, flanking him upon his decent to the floor. Kae makes his way towards the ring, paying little attention to the fans, instead focusing on the ring. He climbs the steps to the ring, and over the ropes in a smooth side-step fashion.


James Brunt: Introducing first, from London, England ... weighing in at 268 pounds ... Johnny Kae!


Once inside the ring, Kae flexes his arms for the audience a number of times, before his music fades. He turns to his corner, stretching off, before putting his full attentions to the match at hand.


Truth Waters: Well, that was a fairly lengthy intro, to say the least.


George Cassidy: More air time for those that deserve it, Truth.


The lights in the arena dim down as the opening drum blasts of "30/30 150" by Stone Sour blare from the loud speakers. With the lights dim, a single red spotlight flies through the crowd and ring, finally settling at the entrance ramp below the big screen.


James Brunt: And his partner, from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, weighing in at 220 pounds ... Scott Taylor!


As the light settles a shadow stands at the ramp, his back facing the ring and his arms raised high into the air. As the lyrics to the song starts pyro sets off from the top of the ramp as Scott begins his descent down to the ring.


Truth Waters: Scott Taylor, hoping to make a splash in his second performance here in AWC against arguably the stiffest competition one could ask for.


The lights suddenly go out, plunging the unsuspecting crowd into the darkness. Flashbulbs shatter throughout the arena, trying to illuminate ringside, just in case they’re missing anything. A few seconds later, the Atlantic Tron produces an image on the screen, an image of a Celtic cross. In the foreground, a series of words appear on the screen, each flashing in succession in bold, red letters...


PIERCE...LAVELLE...IS...BACK!


Then, the driving metal of 'Happy?' by Mudvayne fills the arena, as an explosion is heard in the arena, illuminating the arena once more. Standing on the stage, with his head down, is Pierce Lavelle, and the crowd reacts in disdain due to the recent turn of the Empirian.


Slowly raising his head, Pierce Lavelle looks out into the crowd, showing off his new look: shaved head, Van Dyke beard, and new wrestling attire - short tights, boots, elbow and kneepads. The AWC Legend walks down to the ring, as Chad Gray’s vocals reverberate throughout the arena.


In this hole, that is me, the dead are rolling over. In this hole, thickening, dirt shoveled over shoulders.


James Brunt: From Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, weighing 235 pounds... he is a two-time Transatlantic Champion, a 2005 Zero 2 Hero runner-up and a AWC Roll of Legend... PIERCE LAVELLE!


I feel it in me, so overwhelmed, oh this pressured center rising. My life overturned, unfair the despair, all these scars keep ripping open.


When Piece Lavelle rolls into the ring, he climbs one of the corners, stands in a crucifix pose, letting out a mighty bellow.


Peel me from the skin, tear me from the rind, does it make you happy now? Tear meat from the bone, tear me from myself, are you feeling happy now?


Pierce Lavelle jumps off the turnbuckle, turning to look at his opponent, his eyes locked as the lyrics slowly come to an end. The crowd quietens as the metal words course through their eyes…


Are you fuckin’ happy, Now that I’ve lost everything…


Truth Waters: Pierce Lavelle ... he's almost done it all here in AWC. But one thing he hasn't done is evened up the score with his partner this evening, who should be coming out any second now.


George Cassidy: How is this man not our Transatlantic champion? Look at him! He's a role model! ... Unlike this bum ... literally!


“Garbage Bag Johnny WILL win Z2H” by Garbage Bag Johnny featuring Primus hits the PA and the lights dim. Cue brown strobe lights that take over the arena, which are rather ugly and not spectacular at all. Garbage Bag Johnny comes out from behind the curtain. This time, he has his Transatlantic title around his neck, and he can barely see over it. Nevertheless, he's jamming out to his own creation as he comes to the ring in air-guitar fashion. It makes the viewers wonder how he could actually garner the skill required to make his own theme song, as his hands are all over the place. But good guitar players are never good air guitar players.


James Brunt: And his partner, he is the Transatlantic Champion!, from Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at 221 pounds ... Garbage Bag Johny!


Scott Taylor and Johnny Kae look anxious for the match to being. Lavelle, however, looks rather relaxed against the ring cables. In an impromptu move, Scott Taylor makes a bound for the top ropes. Before Lars Larson can restrain him, he leaps off at Garbage Bag Johnny, who is still in air-guitar mode. The cross-body attempt ends with Taylor eating floor, a GBJ opted for a 007 maneuver to add to his performance.


George Cassidy: Look at that! That wasn't skill! PURE LUCK.


Truth Waters: He's the Transatlantic champ for a reason, Cass.


In the meantime, Kae made the decision to make a surprise-attack on Pierce Lavelle. Bad move, as Lavelle is a legend for a reason, and easily dodges the wild clothesline attack from the monster. Lavelle turns and delivers a swift kick to the back of Kae's knee, causing the monster to drop. Lavelle moves in and captures him in a headlock. The defender is far from worn down, though, and reaches his free, long arms around Lavelle and lifts him off the ground. He throws him over with a Side Suplex.


Truth Waters: Impressive display of strength from the newcomer there.


By now, Garbage Bag Johnny is in the ring. He seemingly doesn't know he avoided a cross-body because of his air-guitar antics, but he's in wrestling-mode now, void of his belt. He charges towards the unaware Kae and leaps onto his back, strapping his arms around Kae's muscular torso. The London native stumbles as a result, but keeps his ground. He reaches over his back and grabs two handfuls of Johnny's mane, which he uses to to flip Garbage Bag over and slam him on his back. Kae has no time for a breather, though, as Lavelle comes charging towards him. Lavelle leaps feet-first in the air, captures his right arm around the front of Kae's neck and slams the back of his head on the canvas in a reverse-bulldog type move.


Truth Waters: That was a nice move from Lavelle, there, and Cass is pulling his hair out figuring out who to cheer for.


George Cassidy: Clearly a tough decision, Truth!


Scott Taylor is back in the ring now. Lavelle turns to him and soon finds himself locked in collar-and-elbow tie-up. They both fight for the upper-hand, but with similar body measurements, neither contestants have an advantage. But Lavelle does have a partner in Garbage Bag, though, who is on the scene and delivers a knee to Taylor's mid-section that sends him stumbling into the ring cables. Johnny pursues him and grabs a wrist, using his other hand to push him into the ropes. Taylor's rebound momentum sends him across the ring, where Lavelle is waiting. The legend lowers his head and sends Taylor over in a back-body-drop.


Truth Waters: Good teamwork from GBJ and Lavelle ... but Christ almighty, look at Kae!


Indeed, Jonny Kae is back on his feet and with another impressive display of strength he catches Taylor in mid-air. Kae tosses him towards Lavelle, who Taylor catches with a Cross-body that ends with a pin.


ONE!


Kickout!


Kae has deterred his attention to Garbage Bag now, but is a second too late. Johnny runs towards him, light on his feet, and pounces into the air. He manages to lock his knees around the 6'7” man's head and executes a Headscissors Takedown. Johnny wastes no time in using his momentum to roll back to his feet, but Taylor is up and rears his arm for a surprise blow. Lavelle is also on his feet from the failed pin attempt, however, and grabs Taylor's reared hand, using it to turn him around. Lavelle follows with a kick to the gut followed by a Swinging Neckbreaker.


Truth Waters: Lavelle looks determined in this one, trying to gain some momentum going into Triangles.


George Cassidy: Determined? He's absolutely carrying this match on his shoulders!


Truth Waters: Garbage Bag has done his fair share.


George Cassidy: Garbage Bag couldn't tell the difference between a wrestling move and a ham sandwich.


The Transatlantic champ is on the scene right away, following his partner's neckbreaker with a few stomps to Taylor's chest for good measure. Lavelle notices this and confronts Johnny, upset that he scooped his target. Lavelle shoves him away and crouches on top of Taylor, delivering a few strong closed-fist punches. Johnny looks pissed, but has little time for boo-hooing as Kae comes out of nowhere, clocking him with a clothesline that sends him head over heels.


Truth Waters: Ouch! Stiff clothesline from Jonny Kae sends Garbage Bag Johnny to the canvas. Kae has been impressive thus far in AWC competition but still hunting for his first win. One against this dynamic duo would look good on his resume.


George Cassidy: This man is a machine, Truth. The best product out of England in ... well, forever! Ha!


Truth Waters: That could be argued, as two-time Frontier champion Tim Shipley is in fact from England, Cass. Like always, you clearly have not done your research.


George Cassidy: Please, he's a college-boy that Kae would tear in two.


Kae has a head of steam now and quickly pursues Lavelle, who is getting to his feet following his assault on Scott Taylor. The London native beheads his prey with a clothesline not unlike his recent attack on GBJ. Lavelle hits the canvas hard but manages to scramble out of the ring, and Kae follows him. Kae hops down from the apron and Lavelle surprises him with a shot dangerously close to below the waist, which the ref is unable to see due to the angle.


Truth Waters: That looked suspicious, even from here!


George Cassidy: Oh please, Truth. It was clearly a fair shot.


Truth Waters: Weren't you just praising Kae a minute ago?


George Cassidy: I can't decide who to root for, okay?!


Truth Waters: Great commentating, Cass. Notch one up for the Truth!


In the meantime, Garbage Bag Johnny and Scott Taylor are stirring inside the ring and both get to their feet. They exchange right hands. Eventually Johnny goes for a wild swing which Taylor ducks, and follows up with a Spinning Heel Kick that catches his opponent in the temple. GBJ stumbles into the ropes and breaks his fall using the second rope. Taylor gets to his feet and stalks the champ, but Pierce Lavelle is back in action. Lavelle grabs the New Hero from behind and lifts him up for a Back Body Drop. Taylor smoothly somersaults backwards over Lavelle's shoulder and lands on his feet. He takes a hold of Lavelle's waist and shoves him towards the ring cables, where GBJ remains. Lavelle crashes into his partner, which sends Johnny tumbling through the gap in the ring cables and to the outside. Lavelle manages to grab the top rope with his forearm to prevent a rebound, but there's nothing he can do about Taylor's dropkick. Lavelle flips over the top, but keeps his hold on the rope and remains on the apron.


Truth Waters: Lavelle is in a tight spot here and his partner is trying to find his composure.


George Cassidy: Correction – that bum is where he is meant to be, outside the damn ring!


Truth Waters: I think the Transatlantic champ would have an argument for that.


Nonetheless, GBJ has his hands full as Kae comes stalking around the corner and lays his right boot into Johnny's back. Kae turns his attention to Lavelle, who is receiving punishing stomps in his helpless position on the apron. The man on the outside takes over for his partner, draping Lavelle's mid-torso over the edge of the apron. After backing off, Kae takes a big step and brings his legs up in Scissor-kick-like formation, bringing the back of his right knee down hard across Lavelle's neck. The legend's body goes limp and he slides out of the ring and lands hard on the outside.


Truth Waters: That's gotta be painful! Lavelle's spine crunching into the edge of the apron there ...


Kae turns to GBJ, who is stirring. He picks him up with a handful of hair and throws him in the ring for Taylor to deal with. Lavelle is squirming and reluctantly gets to his feet with the aid of Kae, who in turn, throws him back into the ring.


Truth Waters: Jonny Kae wants to move this encounter back on the inside, maybe an advantage with his irregular height.


Taylor has Johnny backed into the ropes now, and is delivering the first of many knife-edge chops. He begins to get cocky and rears back for a punch, which GBJ surprisingly ducks out of. While the official is commanding Kae to get back in the ring, Taylor turns around to find his opponent on his knees. Insert sexual joke here. GBJ exaggerates his uppercut and plunges his fist forcefully into the newcomer's jewels.


George Cassidy: Come on, that could've been a good time for the Gooch Rake!


Kae is back in the ring now, and Lavelle is to his feet. Kae moves in and lunges for a grapple, but the much more experienced Lavelle ducks out of it for the second time in the match. From behind his opponent, Lavelle rolls him up in a pin.


ONE!


TWO!


Kickout!


Truth Waters: Close one! Lavelle almost caught the lesser experienced off guard there with that unexpected pin.


GBJ drags Taylor to his feet, sets him up, and hits a Fisherman's DDT!


Truth Waters: Trash Compactor!


GBJ scrambles for the pin.


ONE!


TWO!


Kickout!


Truth Waters: Two close calls for the team of Taylor and Kae, who have incidentally controlled the tempo for most of this match ...


Johnny gets to his feet and sees that Lavelle has Kae in a front face-lock. Being the opportunist that he is, the champ gets to the top rope and waits for Lavelle to execute the Suplex. He doesn't anticipate Jonny Kae to stop the move with a knee to Lavelle's mid-section, though, and deliver a Vertical Suplex of his own. Distracted by the ongoings between his partner and Kae, GBJ is vulnerable to Scott Taylor, who charges at him and catches his knee with an impressive dropkick. Johnny loses his balance and lands hard on the top turnbuckle, his balls taking most of the impact – a taste of his own medicine, if you will. Taylor ascends to the top and brings GBJ falling back to the canvas with an Impact DDT!


George Cassidy: Now that is a trash compactor, wouldn't you say? GBJ's head, compacted? Trash?


Truth Waters: I got it, Cassidy. It was a nice move.


Kae and Taylor have regained control of the match now. Kae has Lavelle in a corner and is delivering right hands, while Taylor follows his top-rope DDT with a pin on the Transatlantic champ.


ONE!


TWO!


Kickout!


Truth Waters: Close one there for GBJ! That could've been a big upset ...


Taylor is getting frustrated now, and his game face is starting to show. He lifts GBJ off the ground and hurls him into the corner. He follows up with a few knife-edge chops, softening up his opponent. Taylor then ascends to the second rope, straddling GBJ, and begins the cliché ten-punch, which the crowd is reluctant to count along with. After three, however, GBJ reaches up with a quick shot to Taylor's mid-section.


George Cassidy: Oh, come on! That was obviously below the belt ...


Truth Waters: And how many times have your wrestlers gotten away with it?


With space to lift himself to a seat on th top-turnbuckle, GBJ follows by planting his feet into the teetering Taylor's chest. He falls hard to the canvas on his back as Johnny readies himself. Meanwhile, Lavelle and Kae are in a grapple. Kae manages to push Lavelle off the ropes and send him across the ring with a whip. Lavelle rebounds and returns to Jonny Kae, who awaits him with a Big Boot. Lavelle ducks out of it, and gets into a fighting stance. Kae turns around only to be clocked by a jumping thrust kick that smacks him right in the forehead.


George Cassidy: Bravo, Lavelle! Look at that skill!


Truth Waters: Look at GBJ!


TOP-ROPE SPLASH ON TAYLOR!


Truth Waters: DUMPSTER DIVE!


George Cassidy: What a stupid name for a move ...


GBJ went all out for this one, and while he connected with the splash, he isn't able to stay atop Taylor for the pin. Instead, Lavelle sees the situation and swoops in, pouncing on top of Taylor and hooking both of his legs for a strong pin.


ONE!


TWO!


THREE!


Cue Mudvayne's “Happy” over the PA. Garbage Bag isn't happy about the stolen pin.


Truth Waters: (sigh) Rack up another win for Pierce Lavelle.


George Cassidy: Of course, he carried this match!


Truth Waters: Johnny did the Dumpster Dive for the win!


George Cassidy: Uh ... I really don't know what you're talking about. Lavelle got that pin fair and square.


Truth Waters: Well, nevertheless, add another one to Lavelle and Garbage Bag's win column, who are going into Triangles with full heads of steam.


James Brunt: The winners of this contest ... Pierce Lavelle and Garbage Bag Johnny!


Truth Waters: Don't go anywhere, folks! Up next we have a Livewire title match ... and then a mouthwatering encounter between four of AWC's second-tier stars in the last Triangles qualifying match! And if that isn't enough, we have another Crisis and Aimz contest in the Relentless Frontier Gauntlet!


George Cassidy: It has been confirmed that their wedding will not be a traditional ceremony. Instead, they will in fact have a wrestling match, and whoever wins has to pay for the festivities. Did you get an invite, Truth?


Truth Waters: Not yet, but I'm sure I will and you won't!


George Cassidy: (dully) We'll be back for more Fresh! action. I get it.

Knock Knock Zoom Zoom




A U T H O R : ???

The scene is right outside of AgentDash's locker room. The door is closed, the surroundings quiet. The camera shot is still until a single gray foot steps into the picture. Quietly, the rest of the figure, clad in gray from head to toe, carrying a steel chair in his left hand. He sneaks up to the door and raps on it hard three times. He steps back and cocks the chair, waiting for Dash to come out. However, his stance is interrupted.


Voice: Hey you! What are you doing!?


The figure clad in gray turns around to find AWC Security Team Member Taz Yorke charging at him. Quickly, he drops the chair and heads off in the opposite direction of the beefy security guard. As Yorke runs past, the camera remains fixed on the locker room door.


It opens. AgentDash peeks his head out and looks both ways. By this time, Yorke has chased the assailant out of the line of sight. The agent shrugs and closes the door.

Shrimpin' Ain't Sleazy II




A U T H O R : KRIS

The cameras find Johnny Lexicon, flanked by a nervous looking Midas T. Gold, pounding on a locker room door. The vibrant core of Lexifans again stomp and chant and rouse the arena into a thunder. Midas peers over his shoulder and smooths out his dirty golden suit while Johnny lays another round into the wood.


Truth Waters: Livewire Lexicon and his manager.


George Cassidy: The mission of a clean locker room continues.


Midas T. Gold: Maybe he's not here.


The door opens as if on cue and the fans start a harsher chant as Blue Ruin pokes his face in the crack.


Blue Ruin: Yeah?


Truth Waters: King Prawn holder and tonight’s challenger of Lexicons Livewire title, Blue Ruin.


Johnny Lexicon: What were you doing in there?


Blue Ruin: None of your business.


Ruin goes to close the door.


Midas T. Gold: Listen we've got a proposition.


Ruin holds the door nearly closed.


Johnny Lexicon: The Prawn demands sacrifice!


Blue Ruin: What did you say?


Midas T. Gold: Listen we want to negotiate something for the match later tonight. Make things a little more interesting.


Johnny Lexicon: My belt, your Prawn.


Blue Ruin: You want the King Prawn?


Midas T. Gold: Yup.


Blue Ruin: What if I say no?


Johnny Lexicon: The Prawn will not allow it!


Midas T. Gold: Don't listen to him, Ruin, listen to me. This business runs on respect, giving respect and getting respect.


Johnny Lexicon: You want respect don't you? You have your own bathroom in there?


Johnny stands on the tips of his toes to try and see over Ruin's head to the room beyond. Blue doesn't answer Johnny's question, his eyes narrowed and speculative as they move between Midas and Lexicon.


Blue Ruin: You want the chance to take my Prawn?


Johnny Lexicon: Andtheprivateroom.


Midas holds a hand up to Lexicon.


Midas T. Gold: No. We want you to defend the Prawn.


Blue Ruin: Fine.


Midas T. Gold/Johnny Lexicon: Fine?


Blue Ruin: Fine.


And he closes the door. The click of locks is heard as Johnny and Midas turn to face each other.


Johnny Lexicon: Fine.


Truth Waters: Were you paying attention Cassidy? Blue Ruin has just agreed to defend his prized King Prawn again Johnny Lexicon here tonight!


George Cassidy: So the winner is basically a Live King Prawn Wire?


Truth Waters: I haven't the foggiest! But if Lexicon wins he retains his belt and wins the King Prawn private dressing room!


George Cassidy: In the likely event that Blue Ruin will win, he will be taking that Livewire title belt back to his private room.


Truth Waters: Lexicon has been on fire since losing to Darcy Crisis for the Frontier Title over a month ago, will he continue his upward trend or find Ruin?

A Chilling Silence




A U T H O R : LARA C.

The echoing cheers from the fans became feint through the backstage corridors. The only noise audible to Sarah Kennedy was the beating of her own heart as she sat alone on a small fold out chair, leafing through page after page, catching up on all she’d missed in the interviewing gig. Her colleague, Maddy Estelle, had become the beneficiary of her old job, but that all changed for Kennedy two weeks ago.


And now, she was back but something was missing…


It was a pain she wasn’t willing to feel or acknowledge as she skipped one page, crumpled it up and chucked it toward a thrash can, but missed by a mile and watched it flutter gracefully to the floor in a crumpled heap. The chilling silence began to allow her to think… something she didn’t want. Feeling alone, she rose from the chair and immediately walks into something hard. Before her stood the pain, the hurt and the cause of her anger, Pierce Lavelle.


Just as dazed, he stood in his ring attire, eyes lingering on her a moment.


Pierce Lavelle: I – I’m sorry…


He mutters, quietly.


Sarah Kennedy: Don’t be, if you’ll excuse me.


With that Kennedy side-stepped to one side and on instinct Lavelle did the same, both ending up facing one another once more. Neither listening to the chants nor boos emanating from within sold-out arena. An unwanted and uncomfortable lingering silence lay between them. Lavelle finally spoke, looking away from her.


Pierce Lavelle: How’ve you been?


Sarah Kennedy: You’ve got some nerve, Lavelle.


Kennedy responded, coldly, staring him down.


Pierce Lavelle: Excuse me?


Sarah Kennedy: You lost the right to give a damn about me when you left me.


Pierce Lavelle: I’ve got a nerve. You are working for that sick maniac, Chainz.


Sarah Kennedy: Better the devil you know right, Lavelle… And besides you gave me no other choice.


Kennedy said whilst prodding Lavelle’s chest with anger in her eyes.


Pierce Lavelle: No, Sarah, I did give you a choice. And you chose him…


Sarah Kennedy: Ever since you joined Harber’s little power-trip, you’ve changed. Even Michael Sloan is a better man than you…


Kennedy shoved passed him, but he gripped her arm and she turned back toward him.


Sarah Kennedy: You ended it, Lavelle, and I’m over you… Let go.


Lavelle watched her a moment, the words not registering, her face emotionless, her eyes cold and dark. He let her go after a moment and turned his back gazing toward the emptiness in front of him. The door slammed shut behind him and with that he was alone. The small sheet of crumpled paper lay by his boot as he bent over and opened the crumpled page carefully. In front of him was a man he recognized too well. Scrunching it back up he ripped it and dropped it into the thrash can, darting up the corridor with a quickened stride.

Johnny Lexicon (c)
v s
Blue Ruin
C H A M P I O N S H I P : LIVEWIRE
S T I P U L A T I O N : SUDDEN-DEATH, FIRST TO THREE
R E F E R E E : RICHIE TRAVIS
A U T H O R : ANDY

Dream Theater’s “Hells Kitchen” begins to play across the PA system as the challenger, Blue Ruin, steps out from the backstage area. He takes a brief look around the arena before making his way down the ramp.


Truth Waters: Here comes the challenger, Blue Ruin…


George Cassidy: Pfft…


Truth Waters: Big things are expected of this rookie, the fact that he’s been given a Livewire title shot tonight shows the somebody in charge must think very highly of Ruin indeed!


James Brunt: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following is a Sudden Death first to three match for the Livewire title! Introducing first, from “WhacKyWorld,” whatever that means, weighing in at 223lbs, he is the beholder of the almighty KING PRAWN… BLUE RUIN!


As Ruin slips into the ring, the opening riff of 'Beautiful People' by Marilyn Manson trebles on the bass line as the screen flickers and fades into static.


'Patient zero has become infected.' A robotic voice emulates fear. 'Self destruct sequence has been Initiated.' The same robotic voice ques in higher.


Johnny: "Oh that human element." His baritone rolls.


Truth Waters: Johnny Lexicon on the way to the ring now, if he can defeat Ruin here tonight we could see the start of a great Livewire title run!


There's a flash, a crash, the music picks up and Lexicon walks from the back in a pair of Trooper Shades framed by his shoulder length blond hair. He raises a rock on and points to his Pierce Lavelle t-shirt as he heads ringside. Shades and shirt come off before he even climbs through the ropes, tieing his bangs back out of his face.


James Brunt: … and his opponent, in the ring, he is the current AWC Livewire champion, from Calgary, Alberta, Canada, weighing in at 267lbs… JOHNNY LEXICON!


Lexicon hands the Livewire championship belt over to the referee as “the Beautiful People” fades out.


Finally, the bell rings, and the two wrestlers lock up in the centre. Johnny Lexicon, the champion, eventually gains the upper hand, as he works his way from Ruin's grasp and puts his opponent in a headlock. Ruin is quick to counter this, and pushes Lexicon free. However, the Livewire Champion soon rebounds off of the ropes, and levels his opponent with a stiff clothesline.


George Cassidy: Damn, Lexicon just about took Ruin's head off with that one…


Ruin quickly bounds back up to his feet, only to be planted straight back down again with an S.T.O. courtesy of Lexicon. Lexicon immediately mounts his opponent, and begins laying into his head with a series of right-hand punches, which gets the crowd riled up.


Truth Waters: Good start from Johnny Lexicon in this rather unique match-up!


George Cassidy: Yeah, how the hell does this thing work exactly?


Truth Waters: It’s pretty simple, it’s essentially a one-count pins match, where the first competitor to pick up three one-counts, wins the match…


George Cassidy: Sorry, can you repeat in English?


After dealing a substantial amount of blows, Lexicon climbs to his feet and kneels over to regain some breath, but the ever-sly Blue Ruin sneakily hits him with a low blow from behind, sending Lexicon tumbling to his knees. Ruin gets up to his feet, shaking off the pain in his head, before kicking Lexicon in the back of the head, guillotining his neck along the bottom rope.


Truth Waters: GOOD GOD! Not ONLY did Ruin get the low blow in, but now he's just about CRUSHED Lexicon's windpipe!


George Cassidy: Even I’ve got to admit that was freaking dirty!


Truth Waters: This is going to be relentless, that's for sure.


Blue Ruin wastes little time, and soon drags Lexicon across towards a set of turnbuckles. He pulls his opponent up to his feet, and leans him against turnbuckles, before laying into Johnny's chin with some punches of his own. Soon, Lexicon slumps down to the floor, allowing Ruin to nail some mudhole stomps. After stomping Lexicon a couple of times, Ruin turns to face the fans, raising his arms in defiance, earning him a whole lotta jeers.


Truth Waters: He’s got to keep on top of Lexicon here… we all know what the Livewire champion is capable of!


George Cassidy: Exactly! Showboat when you’ve accomplished something here, buddy…


Ruin soon turns back to Johnny, and pulls him away from the ropes, before making the first pin attempt of the match.


1!


BLUE RUIN 1 – 0 JOHNNY LEXICON


Truth Waters: And that’s it! 1 – 0 in Ruin’s favour, and we’ve only just started the match…


George Cassidy: Good god, this is going to be quick…


Truth Waters: Perhaps, but Blue Ruin is going to have to do a lot more work if he wants to take Lexicon out.


Ruin grabs a handful of Johnny’s hair and pulls him to his feet. Ruin lands a kick to Johnny’s gut that doubles Lexicon over, before tucking Lexicon’s head between his legs and grabs him around his waist. He tries to lift Johnny up for a powerbomb, but Lexicon blocks and instead takes Ruin over with a back body drop.


Truth Waters: What a reversal by Johnny Lexicon!


George Cassidy: Sell harder, Cassidy! Sell harder…


Truth Waters: ...


Johnny takes a second to recover then goes back after Ruin. He meets Ruin as he gets to his feet and slaps him across the chest with an open hand knife edge chop.


George Cassidy: Oh man! I felt that…


Johnny sets up and delivers another chop the Ruin’s chest, causing it to redden somewhat.


Truth Waters: And again!


Ruin staggers back into a corner and Lexicon follows him in, stinging him with yet a third chop.


George Cassidy: Ruin’s chest is gonna be as red as… ummm… hell?


Truth Waters: Jesus, that was rubbish.


George Cassidy: Shut it!


Ruin’s chest begins to swell as Johnny grabs an arm and whips Ruin toward the opposite corner. Ruin plants and reverses the whip, which Johnny reverses and sends Ruin crashing into the corner he came from. Ruin arches his back in pain as he smashes into the corner turnbuckles, before Johnny follows up with a side elbow to the jaw of Ruin.


Truth Waters: Lexicon is fighting like a brave! He’s one down already and he knows that if Ruin was to get another pin the momentum against him would be gargantuan!
Lexicon brings Ruin out a few steps, and then sets him up for a suplex. He gets Ruin up and holds him in the air for several seconds, allowing the blood to flow from the rest of Ruin’s body down to his head. Johnny does a slight pivot before bringing Ruin crashing down to the mat. Johnny leaves his feet as Ruin comes down for greater impact on the move, Ruin hits the mat and Johnny immediately rolls through for a cover!


1!


BLUE RUIN 1 – 1 JOHNNY LEXICON


Truth Waters: A great suplex by Lexicon and it’s 1-1! Lexicon has struck back!


George Cassidy: Yeah, this undeserving rookie is well on his way to defeat here!


Johnny walks over to the corner and hops up on the second turnbuckle. He measures Ruin up and comes leaping off for a fist drop. However, just as he is about to land, Ruin raises his foot and Lexicon lands jaw first on Ruin’s boot! Lexicon stands straight up before crumbling to the mat.


George Cassidy: That’ll rearrange the inside of your mouth!


Truth Waters: OUCH! A stinging blow!


Ruin scrambles to his feet and drops a leg across the throat of Lexicon, causing Lexicon to crumble to the ground. Ruin stands up, but then immediately drops back down and starts to blatantly choke Lexicon! The referee starts the five count as Lexicon kicks and flails away on the mat. Ruin breaks at four, and then applies the choke hold once again.


Truth Waters: DQ REF! DQ THAT CHEATER!


George Cassidy: Quit crying! THIS is what it’s all about!


The referee admonishes Ruin and forces a break in the choke once again. Johnny clutches at his throat as Ruin rises to his feet. Ruin looks down at Lexicon with a grin on his face, then plants the sole of his boot right square on the mug of Lexicon. Lexicon’s nose starts to bleed as Ruin drags Johnny to his feet. Ruin cinches Johnny up and takes him over with a snap suplex. Ruin rolls over and to his feet, keeping a hold of Johnny. He whips Johnny over again with another snap suplex, then gets to his feet and hits a perfect jackhammer! Ruin makes an arrogant cover, placing a foot on the chest of Johnny, but before the referee can even make a one count Johnny thrusts his shoulder into the air.


Truth Waters: What a cocky cover by Ruin!


George Cassidy: He almost had him, but he should have hooked the leg! Bloody rookie…


In the ring Ruin looks rather upset that Johnny kicked out. He glares down at Lexicon and then grabs one of his legs. He spins around, twisting the leg around his own for a step over toe hold! Johnny howls in pain as Ruin applies the pressure. The referee checks on Lexicon and he screams “NO” that he does not want to give up. Ruin releases the hold, only to step over and spin around again, wrapping Lexicon’s leg painfully around his own. Johnny pounds the mat in pain but will not give up!


Truth Waters: Great resiliency being shown by Lexicon!


George Cassidy: Never had Ruin down as a submissionist, but he’s locking in the pressure!


Johnny grits his teeth and a fire starts to burn in his eyes; he sits up and stares at Ruin, who desperately tries to apply more pressure to the hold. Johnny reaches up and grabs Ruin by the hair, then connects with a hard right hand to the jaw of the challenger. Ruin doesn’t let go of the hold, but he looks somewhat dazed. Lexicon reaches up again, but this time he grabs Ruin by the hair and rolls him up into a small package.


1!


BLUE RUIN 1 – 2 JOHNNY LEXICON


Truth Waters: What a turn around! Lexicon with the small package and now the advantage!


George Cassidy: He’s just a single solitary count away from retaining the Livewire belt now… surely the end must already be near…


Truth Waters: It wouldn’t be wise to count out an individual as unpredictable as Blue Ruin even at this stage!


Johnny hobbles to his feet as Ruin gets to his as well. Ruin charges Lexicon, but Lexicon takes him over with a Japanese armdrag! Ruin hits the mat and rolls through to his feet. He spins around to charge Lexicon again, but Lexicon is there with a devastating clothesline that nearly takes Ruin’s head off. The crowd cheer, not specifically for Lexicon, more for the competitiveness of the match.


Truth Waters: SWEET JESUS! That was almost a decapitation…


George Cassidy: What? You can’t decapitate someone with your arm, you idiot.


Truth Waters: It was metaphorical.


George Cassidy: No, it wasn’t metaphorical, it was fucking lame.


Lexicon shakes his leg a little to get the blood flow going again, then turns his attention back to Ruin. Johnny tests his leg out by stomping on the chest of Ruin several times, before pulling Ruin up and backing him up to the ropes. Johnny unloads with a right hand, then a left, then another right. He spins and winds up, then unloads with another right hand, but Ruin ducks under and back body drops Lexicon up and over the top rope to the floor.


George Cassidy: Goodnight Lexicon!


Truth Waters: The swing of power changes once again!


Ruin peers over at Lexicon, grabs the top rope, then propels himself up and over. He comes crashing down on Lexicon with a splash, hurting Lexicon’s ribs. Johnny clutches at his midsection as Ruin pulls him to his feet.


Truth Waters: The fight has moved to the outside!


George Cassidy: Hehe, this could get exciting…


Ruin whips Johnny into the steel ring steps! Lexicon crashes hard into the steps with a sickening thud, knocking them over.


Truth Waters: DAMN!


George Cassidy: Lights out, baby!


Ruin shoves James Brunt out of his seat and grabs the steel folding chair he was sitting on, pointing at the ring announcer, he talks some trash. Then Ruin turns to go after Lexicon, but Lexicon has sprung to his feet and quickly finds the time to kick the chair out of Ruin’s clutches, before flattening the challenger with a spear!


Truth Waters: Bang! Sensational! Lexicon just took Ruin OUT!


George Cassidy: This is what it’s all about!


Truth Waters: It’s gotta be over now… Ruin wont recover from THAT!


Johnny grabs not only at his ribs, but now at his shoulder from the impact of hitting the chair, while Ruin is sprawled out on the arena floor, the chair resting on top of his chest. Johnny sees this and springs onto the ring apron. From there he climbs the turnbuckles in the corner and perches high above Ruin.


Truth Waters: WHAT IS HE GONNA DO?!


George Cassidy: You’re such a drama queen… isn’t it painfully obvious?


Johnny smirks to himself and then leaps off the top. Cameras flash as Lexicon soars through the air and comes down on Ruin with an Elbow drop! The crowd goes wild!


George Cassidy: OH SHIT!


Truth Waters: WOW! Lexicon flew through the air and CRASHED his elbow right through Blue Ruin!


Johnny stirs to his feet, taking a moment to recover his breath. He pulls the near lifeless Ruin to his feet and rolls him under the bottom rope into the ring. Johnny follows him in and quickly hauls his opponent to his feet, before hooking the arms and dropping Ruin with the Pattern Perfect!


George Cassidy: Pattern Perfect! Goodnight Blue Ruin!


1!


BLUE RUIN 1 – 3 JOHNNY LEXICON


Truth Waters: That’s it! Johnny Lexicon with the Pattern Perfect to take out Blue Ruin tonight!


George Cassidy: Yeah, how stupid is the guy who decided to give Blue Ruin a shot at the Livewire title feeling now?


Johnny defiantly rises to his feet as “The Beautiful People” begins to play again. He is handed the Livewire title belt by the referee, which he raises victoriously into the air.


James Brunt: Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner, and STILL AWC Livewire Champion… JOHNNY LEXICON!

I Guess Taking Care Of Business Pays Dividends, Eh Pearl?




A U T H O R : FERGUS

A lot of coughing can be heard from a locker room as David Harber strolls along towards the private box for the Empire. Stopping for a moment he peers through the chink in the door and then grins to himself. Puffing out his chest he strides through the door and into the room

Inside is your average locker room, with all the usual paraphernalia. Harber doesn't care though, because he's got the one man in his sights, Jack Murphy. As The Bull looks up at him, Harber unloads a huge gob of spit right at him, landing it squarely on his forehead. Murphy smiles grimly and waits for more.

David Harber: You not going to insult me, or threaten me with your usual bravado macho bullshit Jack? Perhaps you've learned your lesson? Perhaps you've finally figured out who's the one in charge?

Murphy stands up and wipes the spit off of his face, keeping a calm face and shrugging.

David Harber: That's it? You're gonna give up on this whole thing already? What the hell? You're just washed up Murphy, if not for the fact of how long a contract you've got I'd fire you on the spot! You're disgusting and a waste of talent. I hope you enjoy your second match because things aren't going to get any easier. I am the one in charge, get used to it.

“Heartless” Harber smirks and turns away, heading for the door to leave. Finally, Murphy goes to speak.

Jack Murphy: You're Pearl, you are in charge. Thanks for the title shots by the way.

He stops in his tracks and looks around.

David Harber: What do you mean?

Jack Murphy: You honestly think me beating Afeaki was my only play? Or are you that naive? Oh no Pearl, I know who's in charge, the very man who's being so generous in giving me all these title shots in the upcoming weeks.

David Harber: What title shots?

'The Bull' pulls out a couple of pieces of paper from his bag. He flashes them in front of Harber, whose face goes very pale.

Jack Murphy: Thanks Pearl. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got another match to prepare for.

Retreading Amnesiac Revelations II




A U T H O R : PIERRE HYDE

“He was nice?”


Dr. Robert Alterman could barely conceal the surprise in his voice, and Sasha Volkyeva picked up on this almost at once, shooting him a guilty glance and then nervously linking her hands, shutting her eyes and staring at the floor.


“I’m sorry, Sasha, I –“


Sasha tapped away his hand of apology.


“It’s fine. I know. I’m silly.”


“You’re not; not at all, it’s perfectly n---“


“It’s not”. Her tone was sharp and decisive. Dr. Robert Alterman now did sigh; sighed at his own inadequacy. He could be the best psychotherapist in America, but sometimes that wasn’t enough.


Sasha begin to flick her fingernails against the inside of her wrist.


Dr. Robert Alterman watched the hands of the clock tick around, tumbling with haste towards the hour.


He gulped.


“Sasha, have you ever heard of… Stockholm syndrome?”

AgentDash and Josh Marquez
v s
Captain Suleimon and Jack Murphy
C H A M P I O N S H I P : NONE
S T I P U L A T I O N : DUO TAG, LETHAL LOTTERY TRIANGLES QUALIFICATION
R E F E R E E : JOSEPH REID
A U T H O R S : JARRETT and JOSH K.

Truth Waters: It’s time for the final tag team match to determine the last two spots in Triangles!


George Cassidy: Yes, and by some stroke of luck, all four competitors are already in the ring. It’s magic, I tell you!


Truth Waters: Well, nonetheless, this should be interesting. Captain Suleimon and Jack Murphy have not seen eye to eye at all while Dash and Marquez have really never even crossed paths. They still might have the advantage even if they are virtually strangers.


The bell rings and Jack Murphy circles the ring, eyeing up Agent Dash with the worst of intentions. They clash in the center with a collar elbow tie up, supported by the epic thumping of their feet against the canvas. Dash slides out of that quickly, for it wouldn’t end well for him, and instead feels that Murphy's calves look tense, and offers a couple swift kicks to them, to loosen them up. Jack Murphy accepts them hesitantly with a look of discomfort on his face as he reaches towards his lower leg in pain. The Ex-CIA operative runs from the ropes and back to The Bull to ask him his opinion on his muscle loosening methods via low lariat to said lower leg.


George Cassidy: What’s your opinion on Jack Murphy’s lower leg?


Truth Waters: As a heterosexual, I admire the muscle tone in a strictly platonic way.


Murphy falls to his back, echoing his dismay for The Agent's procedures. Dash rolls to his feet, unhappy to hear that Jack was unsatisfied by his methods. In repentance, he decides to give him a better technique, on the house- well, actually, off the ropes, and splashing onto his chest…


Truth Waters: Ooh, quick reflexes by Murphy!


…or more like "splashing onto the mat", as Murphy moved last second to avoid Dash's rough manhandling. Dash bounces off the mat face first, his mouth twisted in pain, either from the dismay of another unsatisfied customer, or the fact that he might have broken something important on the way down, (or back up, for that matter). Murphy, unhappy with his poor masseuse skills, lifts him up forcefully, intent on showing him how it’s done.


Truth Waters: Looks like we’re going to get some good old fashioned rasslin’, Jack Murphystyle!


George Cassidy: I did a girl Jack Murphystyle back in the day.


Truth Waters: I’m not even going to ask.


With ease, Murphy lifts him onto his shoulders, and begins to bend him in half over his neck. Dash is not amused, as one can tell by the iron shrieks of agony as he feels his back stretching with little regard to threshold. Murphy hears the dissatisfaction and assures him that it gets better. Josh still has no idea what the fuck Jarrett was talking about. Shifting him to one shoulder, The Bull charges his corner, and rams The Agent’s back into it. He leaves him in a Tree of Woe and tags in Suleimon.


George Cassidy: He stole Joey Lawrence’s finisher!


Truth Waters: From Blossom?


George Cassidy: Yep! The tree of…whoa!


Truth Waters: That was the worst impression I’ve ever heard.


George Cassidy: Fuck you.


Suleimon, who has little mind on massaging anyone, begins to put the boots to Agent Dash. The power of each rib shot eventually quakes Dash from his hanging position. The Pride of the Ottoman Empire lifts him Dash to a standing position, convincing him to the center of the ring with forearms. George Cassidy: Here’s another gem. How many arms does it take Captain Suleimon to beat Agent Dash into the center of the ring?


Truth Waters: Gee, George, why don’t you enlighten me.


George Cassidy: Four arms!


Suleimon attempts the Turkish whip, but finds himself running towards the ropes instead. Dash speeds under his attempted clothesline, and he hops up to the top rope himself. When the Captain rebounds back to front and center, he winces. He wasn't expecting to have his shoulders sat on. Before he can respond, though, he finds himself spinning around in circles, the Agent hanging from his neck like bling gone horribly wrong. The centripetal force causes the Cap'n to go head over heels, and on his back he falls. Dash quickly tags out of the ring before Suleimon shakes out the cobwebs.


Truth Waters: I think Dash just performed a hurricanrana, but I really have no idea what the hell is going on.


George Cassidy: Yeah, but the bling gone horribly wrong line was clever.


Marquez quickly makes with the mean, hopping onto Suleimon and bashing his biceps with brazen boots of benignlessness. Suleimon rolls out of the ring, things getting a bit to hot for him.


George Cassidy: Not only are things getting a bit too hot for Suleimon, but they’re too hot for us to show on cable TV, but if you call now, we’ll throw in Suleimon Gone Wild: Spring Break for just $9.95 plus shipping and handling.


Truth Waters: Suleimon Gone Wild? This is the weirdest commentary I’ve… ah, fuck it. At least GA isn’t no-selling all of his moves in this match. Let’s go rushed results crazy!


As Truth Waters drinks rum out of a shoe, Marquez is insisted back into the center of the ring by the referee, but Suleimon isn't safe. Dash has him eyed up, and leaps off the apron, gracing the occipital bone of his skull with a flashing flying kick. Dash and Suleimon crash out on the ground, neither really taking it well. Murphy finds this to be a good opportunity to get some clobbering done.


George Cassidy: It’s clobbering time!


Truth Waters plays a slidewhistle to accentuate Cassidy’s point.


Murph hops off the apron and beelines for the pile of "ouch" around the side. He moves the Cap'n to the side, and lifts Dash up slowly. Forcefully, he presses him over his head, and introduces Dash's face to a thing called the floor. Marquez finds a way to duck the ref, and baseball slides out towards Bull. A clever sidestep brings that spot to an unfortunate halt, as Josh found himself in the lap of beer drinking fan. Murphy lifts the little Marquez with ease, and scoop slams him to the mat below. Then, like clockwork, a revived Suleimon tosses him back into the ring. Murphy strides back to his corner and receives the tag in. Cap'n whips Marquez into the ropes, and Marquez is nearly killed when Bull Rushed off the rebound.


Jarrett Green?: Here, Josh, this is all I’ve got, and it’s there for you to end now that you finally have the winner sent to you.


Josh Kalvelage: Sorry, man. Writing action wasn’t in my contract this week.


Jarrett Green?: Well, my last name may or may not even be Green!


Josh Kalvelage: No problem, Jarrett… I’ll just bullshit my way out of it.


Marquez is nearly killed, but not quite, as he sidesteps, and Murphy charges on right towards Agent Dash, who hits him with an Agent Kick over the top rope! Murphy tumbles past Suleimon, who smacks him on the shoulder to make a tag and enters the ring, and Marquez dives to tag Dash in. Dash springboards over one set of ropes to springboard off of the other, turn, and hit Suleimon with Star Struck!


Truth Waters: Sully has just been Star Struck!


George Cassidy: Count it!


The pin!


ONE!


TWO!


THREE!


Truth Waters: It’s an upset! It’s an upset alright!


George Cassidy: Dash and Josh Marquez go onto Triangles at the expense of Suleimon and AWC stalwart Jack Murphy! He could retain his Relentless title against Red Rock but he couldn’t beat Dash and Marquez.


Truth Waters: Josh Marquez then has to be considered the underdog as we see Triangles filled out… could he spring a surprise on the big night? We’ll find out in two and a half weeks!

The Truth Waters




A U T H O R : PIERRE HYDE

Nurse: Are you sure you have to do this, Mr. … Mr. Suck-Me?


We’re at a hospital. You can tell by the gleaming white of the nurses’ uniforms, and the dirty brown of the walls.


Mike Wade: Positive, my lady!


He’s in a bed, propped up against an extensive headboard. His face is white, and specks of dry blood still adorn it, punctuating his papery cheeks. Big welts across his forehead and a great wound on one side of his mouth lend a proper wartime look to Commissioner Wade.


Nurse: Well, if you’re sure…


The blonde twentysomething exits, pulling the azure green curtains shut around the bed, while the camera focuses in on Wade’s face. He’s not smiling.


Mike Wade: That was some sick stunt you pulled, Pearl.


Oh. Now he is.


Mike Wade: So how’s about me pulling one of my own.


Slurring his words like a fat man down the pub.


Mike Wade: About Triangles…


Oh?


Mike Wade: Three prizes, right?


That gleaming Mike Wade smile… it’s just starting to shine through.


Mike Wade: Pierce Lavelle’s Transatlantic title, that’s one. The Grand Slam Package, that’s another. And last year we had the Mystery Briefcase, but let’s be honest, everyone…


He cocks an eyebrow at the camera lens.


Mike Wade: That was shit.


Right on.


Mike Wade: So I’ve been wondering what we can stick on that third triangle instead, and now at last it’s hit me. I’m laid up in a hospital bed… I don’t give a shit anymore. Not one fecker came to help me! There’s not even anyone here to visit!


Worry creases across his forehead.


Mike Wade: So Pearl, maybe I’m doing you a favour here… maybe I am. But that’s it; I’m sick of the games. The third prize, it’s a briefcase again (I mean, I already went out and bought one… I’ll just paint over the question-mark on the side…). But this time… it’s the Briefcase of Truth. And Pearl… and every other fecker in AWC… you want the truth. Trust me.

Darcy Crisis (c)
v s
Aimz
C H A M P I O N S H I P : FRONTIER
S T I P U L A T I O N : SINGLES, RELENTLESS FRONTIER GAUNTLET
R E F E R E E : MICHAEL RYAN
A U T H O R : PIERRE HYDE

The opening riff of “Superunknown” by Soundgarden overtakes the arena as the crowd comes to life. With the opening crash of the cymbals, a flash of gold fireworks is followed instantaneously by the thundering report.


BOOM!


Out from beneath the sparkling shower steps the East Bay Executioner himself, MISTER Darcy Crisis, title belt around his waist. Darcy's fist is raised high as he makes his way down the ramp to the tune of Chris Cornell's opening croons:

If this isn’t what you see, It doesn’t make you blind…
If this doesn’t make you feel, It doesn’t mean you’ve died…


James Brunt: The following is a singles match for the AWC Frontier championship, in week three of the Relentless Frontier Gauntlet! Introducing first, from East Bay, California... weighing in at 227 pounds… the AWC Frontier champion, DARCY CRISIS!





Darcy slides into the ring under the ropes, taking in the fan reaction for a few moments before climbing the turnbuckle, removing his bronzed belt and handing it to the ring announcer.


Truth Waters: That’s right, it’s time for our main event and it’s a rematch from Untouchable, brought about by the Relentless Frontier Gauntlet!


George Cassidy: I was kinda getting used to AWC without Aimz… and now that wench is back.


Truth Waters: Last time we saw Aimz in action was at Untouchable, when she defeated Darcy Crisis in an epic “No Love Lost” main event to really put herself in the main event scene. Then right after the match…


George Cassidy: That sap proposed.


Truth Waters: And Aimz said yes! The two are engaged. And then after that…


George Cassidy: Nothing. Aimz went off the radar completely. We prayed that she’d been fired for crapness…


Crisis is still in the ring signalling and waving to his legions of fans – he won over even more of the AWC faithful last week when he confronted Pierce Lavelle of the Empire for not being true to himself. Now, though, as he hears the beginnings of his fiancée’s music, there’s just a little twinge of worry in his face as he snaps around to watch the entrance-way like a hawk.


AFI’s “Interlude 12/21” is blaring its rubbishness over the arena sound system as Amy Campbell tentatively appears from the gorilla position. She peers out, catching a sight of Darcy, hoping for a nod, a wink, a look of complete ease. But when he meets her eyes, she has to look away, because she wasn’t expecting anything quite that stoic.


Truth Waters: But in fact Miss Campbell, soon to be Mrs Markson was simply taking a well-earned rest from activity. She’s back now though and I don’t think she planned to be facing her fiancé again so soon…


Aimz makes her way out, her face possibly a touch whiter than usual. She’s certainly not the livewire ball of energy we often see; like this, Aimz doesn’t even emit enough energy to register the smallest blip on Ellis Nash’s bitch radar.


George Cassidy: I don’t think she planned to face him again at all!


James Brunt: And the challenger, from Halifax, Canada, weighing in at 147 pounds… “The Red Raver”… AIMZ!


Aimz climbs the steps and moves into the ring. Crisis comes over and leans in to kiss her on the cheek before the encounter, but she turns her head away. Before anything further can happen, the lights come up and the bell abruptly rings, referee Michael Ryan taken a little by surprise. Crisis goes to back away, but Aimz, spurred into action by the sound of the ring bell, runs him down with a fierce clothesline.


George Cassidy: There’s that redhead aggression.


Crisis gets straight up and insistently begins to grapple with Campbell, but she twists away and spins on a dime, crashing a kick into her lover’s ribs. He winces and falls to his hands and knees; Aimz mounts his back and attempts a crude camel clutch.


George Cassidy: Oho, this is daring! I don’t think Aimz even knows what this move is called.


Truth Waters: But for those at home, it’s a camel clutch, and Amy Campbell is making an OK attempt at--- ah.


The sigh comes as the Red Raver suddenly finds herself fully six feet above the mat, precariously balanced on the shoulders of Darcy Crisis.


Truth Waters: Yeah, that can happen too.


George Cassidy: Amy on top tonight, then?


Crisis, unbalanced, staggers around a little; Aimz’ eyes gleam and she drives her fist into the top of his skull, further disorienting Darcy to the point that he tumbles forwards, letting Campbell roll off him.


Truth Waters: Aimz came out on top last time, but that was under completely different conditions and her preparations will have been entirely different this time around.


George Cassidy: It was, er, a j--- oh never mind… Different prepations, huh? Well, before it was “No Love Lost”, and now… just “Love”?


Truth Waters: That’s sweet of you, Cassi---


George Cassidy: It makes me sick.


Aimz gets to her feet and looks a touch concerned to see Crisis still down – she did just punch him in the head, after all; that can bring about brain damage if you do it right wrong.


George Cassidy: Oh, now it gets all soppy… “Ooh no, have I hurted him? Oh, is poor Darcy cwying?”


Truth Waters: Aimz is showing uncertainty about this as Crisis clambers to his feet!


The champion looks fine, though, and perhaps Aimz made a mistake in being so hesitant; she definitely didn’t expect to be receiving an armbar takedown so soon. On impact Campbell rolls away.


Truth Waters: That’s a skill Aimz has – getting out of dodge, and quick. Didn’t give Crisis the chance to apply an armbar, which would have been the logical follow-up to that sort of takedown.


George Cassidy: Yeah, Aimz is fast. She’s a fast woman all right.


Both wrestlers now get up, and with the same idea of a fast charge, end up in an almost embarrassing mid-ring collision. Crisis has the foresight to shoot an arm low, though, and is now able to cradle a leg and tuck Aimz in close for a quick overhead close cradle suplex.


Truth Waters: Ooof! Aimz hit the mat with power.


George Cassidy: If Darcy wants to score tonight maybe he should rethink that cradle suplex.


Crisis, seemingly unconcerned for his partner’s health, rapidly hooks a leg to press Michael Ryan into service.


ONE!


Aimz shoots her leg angrily out of his grasp.


George Cassidy: Whoa. Steady, Amy. Man.


Truth Waters: One of the most violent kick-outs I’ve seen all night and it’s only the first of the match…


George Cassidy: You can tell Aimz really does not want to lose.


Truth Waters: I doubt that Darcy Crisis wants to either. He’s got that Frontier championship and now he can run with it; really make something of it like no one else has before…


George Cassidy: No one else?! Were you asleep for Ellis Nash’s entire title reign?


Truth Waters: I hadn’t finished, damn it! Like no one else has before… except possibly Tim Shipl---


George Cassidy: Pssshhh.


With both wrestlers on their feet, Crisis is now slinging Aimz into the ropes. She comes off with force and slides between the legs of the Frontier champion; as Darcy turns, Aimz leaps into him with a standing tackle and he tumbles to the canvas.


George Cassidy: Er… you two? This is a ring, not a bedroom.


The action is so thick and so even that the fans are spending more time chanting than watching the match. Rather than the quintessential ”DAR-SEE! DAR-SEE!”, the dominant noise is the rather more cryptic ”E-B-E! E-B-E!”, but any Darcy Crisis fan can tell you they are simply yelling the acronym to one of his favoured nicknames: the East Bay Executioner.


Truth Waters: OH AND DARCY’S GOING FOR THE MIND CRISIS…


Aimz knocks Crisis’ arm away from her neck, but tumbles back into him as they both go to the mat. Aimz quickly swivels and kneels over Crisis, without a thought pounding right hands into his face.


George Cassidy: Sweetie, you’ll break his pretty nose.


Truth Waters: Aimz not showing much concern for her future hubby’s welfare!


George Cassidy: …Hubby?


Crisis flexes his muscles and pushes her off, turning Campbell aside and driving a knee into her abdomen. Now he rises, backs into the ropes and drops an elbow square into the chest on the reverse.


Truth Waters: Any element of awkwardness has long disappeared… bah gawd these two are fired up now!


Darcy makes a lateral press, pinning the challenger:


ONE!


TW---


Aimz evades the attempt.


Truth Waters: Just nearly a two.


George Cassidy: Aimz can squirm out from under sweaty men all night, you know.


Crisis rests on his haunches, looking around at the crowd and waving his arms to encourage the chants for him. Relatively few fans are cheering for Aimz… in fact… not many at all, Crisis notes with a fr---


George Cassidy: OW.


Truth Waters: n.


George Cassidy: REGIONS SHOT~!


Truth Waters: AIMZ NAILED CRISIS IN THE CROWN JEWELS AND IT LOOKS LIKE WE WON’T BE SEEING ANY MINI-CRISES!


George Cassidy: What, like the OPEC spike of 1973?


Truth Waters: Don’t be silly. That was a major crisis.


Crisis topples forward, his head sinking into the canvas as he absorbs the continuing pain inflicted by Aimz’ sneaky move, unseen by Mike Ryan who is now wide-eyed as he checks on the champion. Aimz, meanwhile, has moved out to the apron and is now scaling the turnbuckle.


George Cassidy: Dead Aim, perhaps?


Truth Waters: I’d envisage that that’ll be later on considering Darcy’s in completely the wrong position…


George Cassidy: True, but he’s looking good for a…


Truth Waters: SOMERSAULT LEG DROP!


George Cassidy: MAN! Aimz DROVE Darcy’s head into the canvas!


The crowd are on their feet, shocked by the impact of Aimz landing on the back of Darcy’s neck to squeeze against the mat his already-grounded head. Aimz backward-rolls away, having landed perfectly, and looks down at Crisis, who has turned onto his back and is spitting to one side blood from his mouth.


George Cassidy: Yeah, his lip’s busted.


And then Amy Campbell realises that she might sometimes, one day, kind of want to kiss those lips. And it’s one of those “What am I doing?” moments, and she gives an involuntary shudder, turning away and folding her arms. Aimz studiously observes the activities of the faceless and nameless timekeeper while she waits for Crisis to recover.


George Cassidy: What are you doing, you cheap whore?! Get back to it and finish him off!


George Cassidy’s going to wish he never said that.


Aimz, sharp of ear and swift of foot, is out of the ring in a flash.


Truth Waters: Whoa, whoa whoa…


Truth stands, holding out his arms, as Aimz storms over, her face as red as her hair.


Aimz: Look, you pathetic little shit, I have enough of this each and every week from you…


Truth Waters: Aimz…


Aimz: SHUT UP Truth unless you want some too! Now Cassidy, not even Drake…


George Cassidy: What?


Cassidy rudely stands up and leers over the commentary table at Aimz.


Dead aim indeed.


George Cassidy: AAAARGHH! WAAAAAA! Shit! Shit shit shit!


He’s now toppled backwards and over his chair in a heap on the floor.


Truth Waters: You’re crazy!


Aimz tosses her hair and leaves without further word, sliding back into the ring, where Darcy Crisis is just getting to his feet.


George Cassidy: Truth! Help me! Truth! AAAAARGHHH it hurts!


Truth Waters: That was quite some punch.


Her sympathy for Darcy now completely forgotten, Aimz leaps in, timing her low dropkick perfectly to take out Crisis’ right knee as he rises. The Frontier champion is humiliatingly sent spinning back to the mat. Aimz pounces, hooking the leg high.


ONE!


TWO!


Kickout.


Truth Waters: And that’s a tw---


George Cassidy: GET ME SOME MEDICAL ATTENTION RIGHT NOW! AAAARGHHH! I CAN’T SEE ANYTHING! I’M CONCUSSED!


Truth Waters: Are you – are you still rolling on the floor?


George Cassidy: Uh, kinda--- I mean, AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!


Campbell guides Markson to his feet, and scores a knee lift to the gut.


Truth Waters: The advantage is with Aimz now, but she really needs to make that count. Darcy Crisis is vulnerable here.


And as if Truth’s immortal words are all that guide her, Aimz jerks Crisis into a crude pulling piledriver.


Truth Waters: Bingo!


ONE!


TW---


Truth Waters: Feet are on the ropes. Unlucky.


Aimz sighs in frustration and raises herself back up using the ropes, now planting her boots into Darcy’s lower back, the repeated shots eliciting occasional grunts.


Truth Waters: Cassidy, you’re a little quie---


George Cassidy: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!


Truth Waters: Queer?


Aimz backs off, to rethink strategy –


No she doesn’t, Aimz doesn’t need a strategy!


But whatever; she backs off.


Truth Waters: Crisis doesn’t look in the greatest of shape… I guess it’s the wear and tear of this Gauntlet; he had two matches on the Fresh! before last, one last week, now this… there’s no let-up.


George Cassidy: And Aimz is fresh, she hasn’t had a match since Untouchable! It’s a scam!


Truth Waters: Aren’t you supposed to be---


George Cassidy: SHIIIT THE PAAAIN! THE PAAAAIN!


Garbage Bag Johnny: Take the pain, Cassidy. Taste it and love it.


Darcy Crisis is spent. He asked for time off after Untouchable; a few weeks of rest and relaxation to nurture his body back to full health. Having experienced a serious spinal injury back in his PSW days, he is always a little more vulnerable, and perhaps a little more careful than his peers. But no – Mike Wade came out all guns blazing and announced the Relentless Frontier Gauntlet: more rather than less action for Darcy. And now it’s caught up with him. He clasps his right hand against his hip and back and groans, gently trying to ease his body back into working order. The crowd are behind him, and chants of ”DAR-SEE! DAR-SEE!” gradually gain in volume. Aimz, ring centre, is scornfully assessing the homemade signs fans happily parade throughout the crowd – “MRS. CRISIS KNOW YOUR ROLE”; “DON’T MARRY THE WHORE”, and the ever-so-considerate “AIMZ HAS HERPES”.


Truth Waters: He really is struggling, the Frontier champion.


George Cassidy: Boo! What’s he doing with gold around his waist if he can’t back it up?


Truth Waters: Well actually, the Frontier belt isn’t around Crisis’ waist…


George Cassidy: Bah!


Truth Waters: Nor is it made of gold…


George Cassidy: … AAAARGHHH MY FACE IS DYING!


Crisis struggles up into a sitting position, leaning back against the turnbuckle, and inclines his head upwards, trying to meet Aimz’ eyes. She deftly avoids his pleading stare, storming away to grab the top rope and gesture over it, talking smack with the fans:


Fan: Yo, you want some smack?


Aimz: No, I don’t.


Well, that might not be how it went, but that’s what they’re using for the dubbing on the Japanese DVD edition, anyway.


George Cassidy: Aimz needs to shut her big mouth and focus on this match.


Truth Waters: I don’t think Darcy Crisis is coming from behind anytime soon, Cass…


George Cassidy: Really? I heard Aimz likes it up the – oh, right, I get you. (pause) OWWWW MY NOSE!


Truth Waters: Are you gonna get up off of the floor now?


George Cassidy: Have I really been on the floor all this time?


Truth Waters: I kinda think so; read the narrative back.


George Cassidy: What?


Garbage Bag Johnny: Taste it and love it!


Aimz, impatient now, casts a glance back at Crisis, who still sits against the turnbuckle, arms over the bottom ropes either side, breathing heavily. She sees vulnerability… and not pity, but opportunity.


Truth Waters: Oh now Aimz is heading over…


George Cassidy: She deserves a punch in the nose!


Truth Waters: You kinda did call her a whore…


George Cassidy: So does everyone!


The East Bay Executioner stares up at Aimz, his eyes wide like saucers, his forehead creased with worry.


Truth Waters: Crisis really doesn’t look comfortable…


George Cassidy: No, not when Aimz is about to KICK HIM IN THE FACE!!


The onslaught of boos seems to take Aimz a touch by surprise, but she really should have expected it: lashing out with her boot as their defenceless hero, her fiancé, the Frontier champion made no effort to defend. The shot to the face stuns Crisis, and Aimz backs away before sprinting in with a lunging leap…


George Cassidy: BRONCO BUSTER! Man!


Truth Waters: Aimz is dead set on winning this match to the extent that her future husband’s health is no longer a concern!


George Cassidy: On a normal day Darcy Crisis might like that kind of position… but here? The East Bay Executioner’s getting executed!


Aimz kicks off the second ropes to put momentum into a backward roll from the bronco buster position onto her feet. She stares defiantly down at Darcy, whose eyes are closed, silently absorbing the punishment, seemingly unable to make no reply.


George Cassidy: Well, she’s pretty much fucked him up… like she fucked me up.


Truth Waters: One solitary punch doesn’t really compare to the punishment Crisis has taken. Come on Cassidy, don’t be a pussy!


”DAR-SEE! DAR-SEE!” doesn’t please Amy Campbell all that much; in fact, it brings her to the conclusion that she’s not done enough, and the negative heat starts to ripple towards her again as she hoists Crisis to his feet. Pushing “D Masta C” back against the turnbuckle, Aimz quickly switches feet and forces her left boot high into his throat, choking Crisis out. His eyes bulge; Michael Ryan is speedy in beginning the count to force Aimz to break her supporting hold on the top rope: ONE! TWO! THREE! F---


CRACK!


Truth Waters: MAN! Out of nowhere!


Crisis has suddenly managed to slam Aimz’ leg right down into the mat, a vice grip around her ankle as he works himself backwards, being sure not to touch the ropes. The fans cheer like crazy, astounded at Darcy’s audacity!


Truth Waters: What a way to escape a boot choke – counter into an ankle lock!


George Cassidy: I don’t even know how that happened!


The East Bay Executioner cinches the hold until he has Campbell cry out in pain, then begins to work his way forward, up her body.


Truth Waters: This ankle lock… it’s just a means to an end, Cassidy!


”DAR-SEE! DAR-SEE!”


Michael Ryan keeps a close watch, but Crisis is careful to avoid the ropes, while Aimz is relatively safe in the ankle lock; while painful, the champion is now just keeping her subdued with it. What she should be worried about is the conversion that’s coming next…


Truth Waters: I see it, Cassidy! He’s gonna move this into the Darcinator, smooth as anything!


George Cassidy: He’ll have to drop the hold for a second, though… that’ll be Aimz’ opportunity…


Truth Waters: Oh no, Cassidy, no room for opportunity when you’ve been targeted for Darcination!


”DAR-SEE!” ignores the exhaustion racking his body and holds his position, setting himself both physically and mentally for the ambitious transition from the ankle lock right through into a triangle hold. Aimz is gasping for air and reaching out…


George Cassidy: She’s getting the ropes, Truth, she’s---


Aimz makes a lunge, and she’s centimetres – no! Crisis uses the opportunity to drag her up and back and locks in the Darcinator!


Truth Waters: HE GOT IT! DARCINATOR! DARCINATOR! IT’S OVER!


Aimz taps like crazy and Crisis releases her at once, falling limp to the mat next to his defeated fiancée. James Brunt enters the ring as the bell goes, and descends upon “D Masta C”, title belt in hand.


James Brunt: The winner… and STILL AWC Frontier champion… DARCY CRISIS!


George Cassidy: I can’t believe that sap won.


Truth Waters: Aimz was dominant for much of this match but couldn’t resist the Darcy Crisis resurgence! That puts Markson-Campbell at 1-1 and let’s hope it remains that way – the only way they’ll have a long and happy marriage!


George Cassidy: Or even make it to the wedding. Nah, Truth, they’re both too competitive to leave things at a tie… we’ll see these two face off again, sooner or, hopefully, later…


Aimz drags her head off the mat and collapses over the sitting Darcy, who cradles her in his arms, running his strong right hand across the top of her head.


George Cassidy: Aaaand that’s quite enough of that… *pukes*


Truth Waters: Tune in next week to find out the arrangements for which triangles Darcy Crisis and Scott Taylor, and AgentDash and Josh Marquez will go into! Plus more great action!


George Cassidy: Yeah... sure...