Introduction
FEATURING: TRUTH WATERS, GEORGE CASSIDY
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
A golden triangle dominates the screen, the rest black until other triangles fade in around it: red, green and blue, forming one larger triangle, whose sides now glow white as letting appears above it:
ATLANTIC WRESTLING CLUB
TRIANGLES 2005
The skins start getting slapped, and the kicking beat of “Oh Yeah” by The Subways is underway. Raging guitars and searing vocals accompany fast-paced images of AWC wrestlers doing what they do best: Whiplash, The Eternal Hope, The Eleventh Commandment; piledrivers, suplexes, sidewalk slams; ankle locks, armdrags, full nelsons. Small golden triangles then begin to shoot across the screen, some pausing in the middle, and eventually we realise that the small triangles are slowly coming together to form one bigger triangle. Once complete, the golden triangle glows white again, and the text
LIVE FROM THE FEDEX FORUM
is the last we see before the video suddenly cuts out to be replaced by a wide shot of the arena.
We pan around the rows of screaming fans, the signs (“Alexa say yes”), the banners (“Pierce Lavelle for President”), the letters groups of attendees hold up to spell the names of their favourite wrestlers, the beers and the nachos and the cameras. And then it’s a cut to the announcers’ table, where Truth Waters, in a black shirt, and George Cassidy, a funereal navy, are eager to get started.
Truth Waters: Folks, the atmosphere is incredible in the FedEx Forum, Memphis, Tennessee! We’re here for AWC’s fifth and possibly biggest pay-per-view extravaganza.
George Cassidy: Indeed, we’ve been through Zero To Hero, Solarized, The Battle Of Britain and Testimony, concepts getting wilder and stipulations crazier every time as Pearl tests the boundaries of what can fit into a wrestling show!
Truth Waters: It’s great entertainment, and Harber’s excelled himself tonight with the Triangles match! Nine men will go into three separate triangular structures, the winners of what are effectively three way matches moving into a fourth central triangle and then up to the rooftop to claim one of three prizes.
George Cassidy: I'm just as hyped for the Pyramid Scramble, because if Pearl won’t tell us anything about it then it’s got to be good.
Truth Waters: It’s going to be one hot night of action! Fasten your seatbelts... because...
First Triangles Qualifier
MURPHY/???/??? vs NOBLE/???/BUTTERFLY vs ???/QUIRY/HATE
STIPULATION: THREE WAY TRIO TAG
REFEREES: AARON DAVIES AND MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
George Cassidy: It’s time to kick off Triangles!
Truth Waters: These two qualifiers will determine the possible fates of eighteen wrestlers tonight. The winning teams of three go into the Triangles match itself, based on the colours they’ve been assigned. The two losing teams meet in a small battle royal for contendership to the Frontier title at the next pay-per-view. Then the two teams that neither win nor lose have a mini-tournament, the winner of which gets the Transatlantic title shot at that Christmas extravaganza.
George Cassidy: So in essence, these qualifying matches are pointless. Since everyone moves on to something else regardless.
Truth Waters: Not at all, Cassidy! Pearl’s giving the competitors the chance to choose their own fate, rather than compete in matches they’ve just been thrown into.
George Cassidy: Whatever... the teams aren’t fair anyway.
Truth Waters: Harber hasn’t revealed his selection methods, but I believe that aside from the teamings through friendship – Red Rock, O’Shea and O’Malec, for example – and the natural putting together of those in a duo – Harry and John of T.T.S. compete on the same team, along with Tony Aliso – they’re random.
George Cassidy: These matches also comprise pretty much the entire roster, bar those who’ve already qualified for the main event –
Truth Waters: Or demanded their place, a la Strider...
George Cassidy: Or, of course, been reckoned to be part of the Relentless division – they’re competing in an entirely separate match.
Truth Waters: The Pyramid Scramble! I can’t wait for it.
George Cassidy: We barely know anything about it. I bet actual wrestling will be minimal.
Truth Waters: Whatever. I know we have another blockbuster event on our hands.
James Brunt, resplendent in a white suit specially made for the occasion whose jacket is adorned with images of the AWC golden triangle, steps into the ring, and chanting of the ring announcer’s name begins.
”BRUNTY! BRUNTY! BRUNTY!”
George Cassidy: Americans don’t usually add “...y” to the end of every single name like the Brits.
Truth Waters: Our Americans do.
James Brunt: The following is the first Triangles qualifier! Introducing first, working towards the red triangle, from Kildare, Ireland, weighing in at 278 pounds... the AWC Livewire champion, “The Bull” JACK MURPHY!
The fans boo with relish at their first opportunity for negative heat. Fresh, high on anticipation and possibly some other substances, they throw themselves into the spirit of things willingly.
George Cassidy: Jack Murphy is getting a heated reception. It’s always a sign you’re doing well if you can provoke this kind of reaction.
Truth Waters: He colluded with the late British Bomber to steal Red Rock’s belt from him last Tuesday on Fresh!; this is the first time he’s been out in front of a crowd since. The fans are really letting him know what they think of him.
Livewire championship belt over his shoulder, Murphy swaggers down the ramp, running the fingers of one hand up and down the gold as he proudly displays it. His music, Slayer’s “Seven Faces”, ends prematurely as the production staff try to move along this potentially lengthy introduction sequence. It’s replaced by something unfamiliar... just as the lights go out.
George Cassidy: Ooh, could this be our first MYSTERY competitor?
Truth Waters: I guess so... strangely, for this team in particular, the two partners of Jack Murphy listed were “questionmarkquestionmarkquestionmark” and “TBA”, indicating one mystery partner and one who simply had yet to be scheduled...
George Cassidy: Perhaps Pearl couldn’t find anyone to fill the last spot...
But through the murky gloom, we can see two figures entering through the ring ropes, and suddenly the penny drops, just as the lights return.
Truth Waters: The Furious Fists of God!
George Cassidy: They’re back! I didn’t see this coming.
Truth Waters: Last I heard they’d been relegated to non-TV through racism allegations. I doubt their ideals have changed...
George Cassidy: This might not necessarily mean they’re back for good; it could be just a one-off appearance...
James Brunt: His partners, from Boston, Massachusetts, at a combined weight of 607 pounds... Tim and Liam Martin, THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD!
The overall reaction to The Furious Fists of God as the first two mystery entrants appears to be a negative one – though it’s not just people booing because they don’t like FFGod; there’s also a sense of disappointment.
Truth Waters: I guess the fans were expecting something more with regards to the mystery competitors... that’s always going to happen with the internet throwing around big names that don’t have the remotest connection with AWC.
George Cassidy: I heard Meanstreak –
Truth Waters: Exactly. What an illogical idea.
George Cassidy: Still, it would be cool...
Truth Waters: Damn straight.
Jack Murphy looks his new partners up and down, seemingly assessing the likelihood of them helping him through to the final. Liam doesn’t take too kindly to this, looking ready to go over and clock him one, but Tim is muttering something in his ear, and after a while Liam nods tentatively at Murphy. The Bull replies with his own grudging nod, and then moves over to shake hands with them both.
George Cassidy: How can they work out a game plan not even knowing in advance who they’re teaming up with?
Truth Waters: To be fair, the Fists probably knew.
George Cassidy: That’s irrelevant – Jack Murphy is the brains of this operation. He’s going to have to think on his feet. Fortunately, The Bull is more than capable.
The atmosphere is suddenly transformed as Bill Conti’s “Gonna Fly Now” hits. Veteran Johnny Noble comes through the curtain, playing heavily to the crowd who respond in kind with jubilant cheers for the old school icon.
James Brunt: And their opponent, working towards the red triangle, from Bellingham, Washington, weighing in at 290 pounds... “Mr Incredible” JOHNNY NOBLE!
George Cassidy: Noble and Murphy are both gunning for the red triangle.
Truth Waters: Two newcomers who have both made an impact in their short time here... it’ll be interesting to see which can go through to the final and look to make a splash on the Transatlantic title scene.
George Cassidy: A lot’s going to depend on who Noble’s partners are...
Truth Waters: Well, we know that one of them is Butterfly Hamada –
George Cassidy: Oh dear, Jack Murphy’s gonna have a field day.
Truth Waters: But the other is another mystery...
George Cassidy: Not for long!
The lights in the arena suddenly cut out, and a familiar theme tune immediately hits.
He who makes a beast out of hi-
Truth Waters: No way!
George Cassidy: Oh Lord...
Truth Waters: MURRRRRRRRRRRR~!
A wave of excitement pulses out across the arena, and a many of those in attendance raise to their feet at the sound of a familiar intro. However, before it can go any further, the music cuts out. Almost immediately the harmonised guitar intro to “Hand of Blood” by Bullet For My Valentine kicks out across the arena, and the lights begin to flash red throughout the place.
George Cassidy: What’s this?
BANG!
A massive burst of pyrotechnics explodes at the top of the ramp as the song kicks in, leaving a cloud of smoke behind in. In this puff of smoke stands the silhouette of a tall, well-built figure, the letters “S.K.C.” flashing on the screen behind him.
Truth Waters: New music for the Scottish King of Cool!
There goes my valentine again,
Soaked in red for what she said,
And now she’s gone…
With another, small pyro burst the smoke cloud is gone, and the man at the top of the ramp is met with a steady wave of cheers. He wears a pair of beige cargo shorts and a black sleeveless t-shirt reading “Murray is Back, Bitch!” and has a mile-wide grin planted across his face.
Oh my god have I done it again?
There’s a pulse and it’s deafening,
I can’t help what I hear in my head,
It’s the switch that I flick when he says…
Former AWC Frontier champion Andy Murray is in the house.
Truth Waters: He’s back from injury and he’s the third mystery competitor of the night! Former Frontier champion Andy Murray! Ah, it’s great to see him with us again, I hope he holds up in the match...
George Cassidy: “Great”. Right.
The Scottish King of Cool begins his descent down the ramp, jubilant at being able to at last make a comeback, slapping hands with some fans as he goes.
Hand of blood, I don’t wanna feel, my heart is breaking,
Hand of blood, I don’t wanna see, my life is burning…
James Brunt: And his partner, working towards the blue triangle, from Aberdeen, Scotland, weighing in at 270 pounds... the “Scottish King of Cool”, ANDY MURRAY!
Murray slides into the ring under the bottom rope, and immediately raises one arm high in the air to another warm reaction from what’s left of his formerly massive collection of adoring masses before walking across to the other side of the ring and doing the exact same.
I saw you look away,
Is what you’ve seen too much to take, or are you blind and seeing nothing?
I saw you run away,
Is what I’ve done too much to take, or are you scared of being nothing?
Finally the music begins to die down, and the returning Scotsman pulls up his elbow pads a little, ready to get started. Butterfly Hamada now trots down to the ring, no music accompanying her quiet entrance.
George Cassidy: Whoa, Hamada’s out here too? I barely noticed.
Hamada, Noble and Murray quickly organise themselves, Noble volunteering for first duty in the ring as Murray and Hamada retreat to the ring apron, already deep in conversation. Hamada throws her head back, giggling at a quip from the Scotsman.
Truth Waters: Johnny Noble’s all ready to go, but there’s another team to come yet!
James Brunt: Their partner, working towards the green triangle, from Tokyo, Japan, weighing in at 160 pounds... MEGUMI “BUTTERFLY” HAMADA!
The fans give her a decent pop.
George Cassidy: Aren’t women usually all cagey about giving out their weight?
Truth Waters: That’s just the fat ones. Like your wife.
The arena goes quiet for a couple of seconds, then more music plays... and it’s familiar, but we can’t quite think how. Then a slender, sprightly young woman bursts through the curtain, and we see that a former star of AWC is BACK!
George Cassidy: ELLIS NASH! My prayers have been answered!
Truth Waters: I don’t believe it! We have Ellis Nash back, as our final mystery competitor in this match!
George Cassidy: This one, at least, was a total surprise. Murray and the Fists were still on AWC payroll, but Nash was gone... and here she is, out of the blue!
Ellis Nash walks down to the ring, a cool composure settled on her face as Tristiana’s “Angellore” plays.
James Brunt: Their opponent, working towards the red triangle, from Cortland, New York, weighing in at 117 pounds... “The Spade” ELLIS NASH!
Her reaction is mixed, with cheers for her return counterbalanced by the boos from those who remember her cutting tones and bad attitude. She stops before she reaches the ring, turning to await her partners.
James Brunt: And her partner, working towards the blue triangle, from Blackpool, England, weighing in at 241 pounds... NORMAN QUIRY!
Quiry receives little to no crowd reaction as he ambles down to join Nash to the strains of the Jeopardy theme music.
George Cassidy: This Quiry hasn’t really done a hell of a lot since he joined. Next for the chop?
Truth Waters: I’d say it’s a distinct possibility, to make room for some new talent.
George Cassidy: AWC can surely attract some more STAR NAMES now. We want Rich Rollins!
Truth Waters: I hardly think PTC’s Global champion is likely to turn his back on GCW, Cassidy.
Knowing whose entrance is to come, every fan in the FedEx Forum turns his or head to the entrance-way, desperate to catch as much as they can of this creepy yet stunning entrance. Some shiver as the Marduk music begins, its doom and gloom not exactly a feel-good tune, but no one loses sight of the stage, where Hate appears, a gas mask over his head and a floor-length trenchcoat completing his almost supernatural appearance.
George Cassidy: Truth, I think Hate is a little strange.
Truth Waters: Biggest. Understatement. EVER.
James Brunt: And finally, working towards the green triangle, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 225 pounds... “The Fifth Horseman” HATE!
Hate moves to the front of the stage, stopping here to raise his arms up high and let out a yell. He removes his gas mask, tossing it uncaringly into the crowd, where fans scrabble for this unique piece of memorabilia, and lets his coat fall from his shoulders as he exposes his muscular chest to the audience. He reaches Nash and Quiry at the bottom of the ramp and then swerves to bypass them completely, storming up the ring steps and into the ring.
George Cassidy: I don’t think Ellis Nash and Norman Quiry get much choice in who’s starting off.
Truth Waters: Not a wise move. In these qualifiers, you really want to stay out of the action as much as possible while still ensuring the win, so that you’re not too tired out for whatever match you go through to.
George Cassidy: Truth, can Hate EVER get “tired out”?
Michael Ryan and Aaron Davies approach the ring, the senior referee staying at ringside while Aaron Davies climbs in looking a little awestruck with nine warriors around him. Davies quickly explains that one corner is reserved for each team’s tags, while the fourth remains free – Nash impatiently beckons for him to speak up. With a “forget it” hand gesture, the referee checks that each team has a competitor in the ring. It’s Hate, Johnny Noble and Tim Martin to start us off.
Truth Waters: Finally we’re getting started! Those ring entrances took an eternity.
Tim Martin immediately squares up to Johnny Noble, throwing two punches into the veteran’s gut so hard that Noble’s face rapidly turns white. Unimpressed by the initial shun, Hate imposes himself, charging in with a military kick to Noble’s chest to send him flat to the mat. Turning to the Fist of God, he ducks a swinging arm and charges into his midsection, ramming Tim Martin back and into the turnbuckle.
George Cassidy: Hate asserting himself as the dominant force, but he’s worked Tim Martin into his own corner there and his brother Liam tags himself in.
Aaron Davies nods to say he’s seen the tag and Liam Martin socks Hate from the apron with a punch in the face before climbing through the ropes and whipping him across the ring. Johnny Noble gets up to see The Fifth Horseman hurtling towards him at speed and quickly drops down, letting Hate run over the top of him.
Truth Waters: Good reactions by Noble to avoid being flattened!
George Cassidy: That was 225 pounds of pure muscle heading his way.
The Fifth Horseman hits the ropes and Noble opens up for a spinebuster, but Hate brings a boot rocketing up into his abdomen and Noble stands up straight, stunned by the violent impact. Liam Martin takes hold of him from behind and executes an atomic drop.
George Cassidy: It’s not going too well for Mr. Incredible.
Truth Waters: Did you know both these men have at least sixty-five pounds on Hate each?
George Cassidy: Wow, they really don’t make it count.
Truth Waters: That’s because The Fifth Horseman doesn’t let them.
Liam and Hate let an intense glare pass between them before Liam lets his hot-headedness get the better of them and draws his arm back for a punch. Spotting it quickly, Hate blocks it with his left arm and steps in to deliver a HUGE belly-to-belly suplex!
George Cassidy: Shocking!
Truth Waters: That shook the ring!
George Cassidy: Hate lifting a much heavier man than himself!
Hate engages the lateral press and Aaron Davies makes the count.
ONE!
Noble throws himself over Hate, breaking it up to receive a small cheer from the crowd.
George Cassidy: The pinfall may be a long time coming with three men in the ring – and another six all ready to climb into the ring and get involved if necessary.
Truth Waters: I think that’s what Michael Ryan is out here to prevent.
Andy Murray urges his team-mate on from his position on the apron as Noble waits for Hate to get to his feet. He employs an old-school collar-and-elbow before moving round into a side headlock.
Truth Waters: Noble applies the headlock...
Shifting his weight, Hate grasps Noble’s body firmly and slowly lifts, bringing Noble up through the air and then crashing to the canvas with a back suplex!
George Cassidy: Well, that didn’t last long.
Truth Waters: Just too easy for Hate to counter.
George Cassidy: How do you wrestle against Hate?
Truth Waters: I don’t think anyone’s been able to come up with a successful formula. He’ll get out of any situation you put him in, in the blink of an eye.
Murray and Hamada yell to Noble from the apron, looking for him to get over to their corner and tag out. Liam Martin gives them an ugly glare, and after a moment’s hesitation, heads over and hits Butterfly square in the face!
George Cassidy: TABOO!
Truth Waters: Liam Martin just sucker-punched Butterfly Hamada! She’s not even in the match at the moment!
Hamada staggers and falls, her standing leg giving way as she hits the floor. Andy Murray is in action at once, grabbing the more brash half of FFGod to tie up. He makes a valiant effort at the vertical suplex over the ropes, but Murray just can’t lift the 300-plus-pounder, and as Martin plants his feet he is able to reverse the motion and himself begin to lift the Scottish King of Cool.
Truth Waters: Murray went straight for revenge but it backfired on him!
George Cassidy: He can’t lift Liam Martin and now Martin delivers a crushing suplex bringing Murray into the ring.
Meanwhile, on the outside, Jack Murphy drops to the floor and goes across to Butterfly Hamada.
George Cassidy: I don’t think this is a sympathy visit!
Truth Waters: It’s all kicking off here!
Johnny Noble has now managed to crawl to his corner, but there’s no one there to make the tag.
Truth Waters: Noble left high and dry!
Jack Murphy pulls Hamada to her feet and gives her a rough chop across the chest. Michael Ryan makes his way over, determined to put a stop to any antics at ringside, but Tim Martin drops from the apron to intercept the senior referee in his path. Aaron Davies, his attention occupied by Andy Murray’s illegal presence in the ring, is unsighted as Ellis Nash and Norman Quiry now steal in on their way through to where the action is happening.
George Cassidy: This is pandemonium.
Truth Waters: It’s taken only a couple of minutes for this Triangles qualifying match to totally degenerate.
Nash and Quiry slide out of the ring behind Tim Martin and begin delivering blows to the FFGod member; soon he is on the floor trying to protect his body as kicks come in from all angles. Michael Ryan, caught between two incidents, decides to ignore this one and heads over to Murphy and Hamada, who are now locked in fierce battle. Butterfly breaks a tie-up to spit in Murphy’s face; his face betraying horror, he hooks her leg and delivers a cruel cradle brainbuster!
Truth Waters: OH MY GOD!
George Cassidy: Fisherman buster on the outside!
Truth Waters: Murphy could have broken her neck!
George Cassidy: The Bull isn’t going to let compassion get in his way.
Truth Waters: A savage and needless attack! She’s not even involved in the match at the moment!
George Cassidy: WHAT match?
Ryan confronts Murphy angrily, pushing him away. The Bull holds up his hands and steps up onto the apron, and Michael Ryan now turns to see to Butterfly Hamada. She nods her head, assuring him that she is OK.
Truth Waters: She can nod her head, that’s a good sign... no damage, I hope.
As this is going on, Norman Quiry has Tim Martin trapped in an abdominal stretch. Targeting the area most under pressure from the hold, Ellis Nash delivers an accurate dropkick, and FFGod’s more senior member lets out a cry.
George Cassidy: Tim Martin is being double-teamed quite effectively by Quiry and my queen Ellis Nash.
Truth Waters: You really need to get over this pathetic infatuation...
Murray, finally complying to Aaron Davies’ insistence, heads over to his corner, but standing there on the apron is “The Bull” Jack Murphy, who makes some kind of snide comment. Murray, enraged, runs at him and delivers a sudden block clothesline, taking Murphy unawares. The Irishman is thrown back to land in a sitting position on the floor, to riotous cheers from the front row fans.
”MURRAY! MURRAY! MURRAY!”
Truth Waters: The fans are loving Andy Murray’s return to AWC.
Quiry now turns Tim Martin slightly, hooking his arms behind his back and linking his hands in preparation for what looks like a Michinoku driver. Before this can happen, though, Tim’s brother Liam comes off the apron with a double axe-handle to Quiry’s head! Quiry is knocked flat and Liam slaps Tim on the back before turning his attention to the fiery Ellis Nash. He grabs her, the dominant player in the tie-up.
George Cassidy: Getcha hands offa my woman, motherfucker-er-er-er-er!
Truth Waters: Ugh, British screamo.
George Cassidy: Hardly. The Darkness are...
Truth Waters: ...one false move from the firing squad.
Nash, however, brings a knee into his crotch, and Liam Martin visibly wilts, allowing Nash to assume control and deliver a defiant reverse Russian leg sweep, planting one half of FFGod face-first into the floor.
George Cassidy: Excellent faceplant by Ellis Nash! She’s sly...
Truth Waters: A cheat, then.
Andy Murray is now with Murphy on the outside, in control as he slams the Irishman’s head against the security barricade again and again, getting slaps on the back from the supportive fans as he moves along the barrier. Any resistance from the Irishman is futile; having your head bashed repeatedly against a hard surface does tend to knock it out of you.
Truth Waters: Andy Murray is all over Jack Murphy.
George Cassidy: Murphy’s saving himself for the main event, that’s all.
Truth Waters: Yeah, getting bloodied up as much as possible, that makes a whole lotta sense.
Butterfly Hamada begins to pull herself to her feet. She uses the security barrier for assistance; here, contact from the fans in the front row is more perverted hands than encouragement or help, but at least they’re not hitting her.
Truth Waters: It looks like Megumi Hamada is going to be OK.
George Cassidy: Whatever. She’s not nearly attractive enough to be in AWC.
That leaves Hate and Johnny Noble, who are the only two in the ring along with referee Aaron Davies. Hate is dominant, employing all sorts of body strikes and simple drops and slams to gradually destroy anything Noble might have left in him. With Noble currently backed up in the corner, The Fifth Horseman is delivering a slow sequence of knee drives into the gut, leaving plenty of time between each to give Noble the false notion of recovery.
Truth Waters: Boy, does Johnny Noble need something now. Hate is slowly and systematically dismantling him.
The crowd pick up on this, with ”JOHNNY! JOHNNY! JOHNNY!” chants picking up more and more voices.
George Cassidy: The real action’s outside the ring.
Tim Martin grabs hold of Ellis Nash, who just planted his brother into the floor, but N-Quiry comes from behind with a forearm to the back. It’s no more than a distraction; Martin doesn’t even look before he throws an elbow back into his ribs; but just to make sure Quiry goes down he spins round into a clothesline on the 241-pounder. Grabbing the split-second and making it hers, Ellis Nash jumps into the air to hit Tim in the head with a spin kick. He falls against the apron.
George Cassidy: Ellis works her way out of another tight spot!
Truth Waters: She’s showing glimpses of promise tonight on her return to AWC.
Andy Murray now backs The Bull up against the other side of the ring, raking downward blows putting Murphy’s face in a whole world of hurt. Murphy lifts a half-hearted knee into the SKC’s abdomen, but it’s only a slight delay of the next attack, which is an Irish-whip into the barricade. Satisfied, at last, Murray dusts his hands off and walks over to help Hamada. She refuses his help, however, standing on her own too feet and insisting on getting back up onto the apron.
Truth Waters: Butterfly Hamada is her own woman; she’s warning Murray she doesn’t need babysitting.
George Cassidy: Look at them now – standing in their corner as if nothing’s happened, ignoring the chaos around them!
Murray now storms into the ring as he sees his partner Noble still in trouble, but the referee moves to block his way. Pointing at the brawls going on all around the ring, Murray protests that law and order has already been lost, but Aaron Davies is insistent. He doesn’t, however, see Butterfly Hamada as she ghosts past him.
George Cassidy: Aaron Davies trying to retain some degree of control on things, but Hamada has just walked straight past him.
With Noble now having been placed on the top turnbuckle, Hate is standing on the canvas right in front of him, swinging upwards with punches across Mr. Incredible’s face. Hamada introduces herself with a snap kick to his kidneys. The Fifth Horseman wheels around, but with Butterfly already poised, she simply has to leap into the air to connect with her crippling double kick to the back of the head, the Twin Killing!
Truth Waters: THE TWIN KILLING! And that’s Hate DOWN!
George Cassidy: I don’t think I’ve ever seen The Nondivine Juggernaut just crumple like that before; has Hamada found a chink in his armour?
Aaron Davies turns and fends Hamada away towards the ropes as Noble, staggering out of the corner, looks around in awe.
”JOHNNY! JOHNNY! JOHNNY!”
He takes a further step forward, then looks down on the fallen Hate... and hits the body splash.
Truth Waters: Body splash! And Noble could have this won!
Murray yells his encouragement from the opposite corner of the ring as Johnny Noble hooks the leg; Davies turns away from Hamada to count the fall.
ONE!
TWO!
Suddenly all three members of team one in this match, Jack Murphy and the two Martins, flood into the ring and simultaneously bundle onto Noble with kicks and punches! The fans boo the save as the team, two of them bloodied from their battles with Andy Murray and Ellis Nash, lay into their hero.
George Cassidy: It’s like a gang-beating! Three-on-one, Mr. Incredible on the receiving end!
The referee is unable to assert himself, and Murray and Hamada hurtle into the ring to come to the aid of their partner for the night. Hamada takes out Tim Martin’s legs with a leaping front dropkick to the back of his knees; Murray knees Liam in his side and hits his patented WAKE UP!
Truth Waters: Andy Murray giving Liam Martin a wake-up call! And Butterfly takes his brother out!
Jack Murphy, realising his isolation, turns to Hamada and applies a waistlock from behind. Nash and Quiry, who have just slid into the ring, in turn grab Murphy from behind, readying The Bull for a double atomic drop. Before Murphy can work out what’s going on, they lift him, and Hamada, struggling to escape Murphy’s vice grip, is lifted too. Nash and Quiry hit the atomic drop, and Murphy clatters forward into Hamada, using her body to break his fall.
Truth Waters: What a mess!
George Cassidy: Butterfly Hamada winding up on the bottom of the pile.
Nash and Quiry look at each other, and The Spade shrugs before they both help up Hate. He ignores them, not wanting or needing their aid, and the first unfortunate in his path is Andy Murray. A forearm to the head later, he’s despatched over the top rope and goes spinning to the outside. Johnny Noble struggles to his feet right in Hate’s path, and with a simple hiptoss The Fifth Horseman sends Noble the same way as his partner.
George Cassidy: Hate is clearing the ring!
Truth Waters: Cassidy... who’re legal?
George Cassidy: Whores are never legal.
Truth Waters: W-w-WHAT?
The Furious Fists Of God now link arms and charge Hate, but The Nondivine Juggernaut ducks. All three men spin 180 degrees, but none of them land the next blow; Ellis Nash and Norman Quiry hit twin superkicks to the Martins’ heads to knock them out.
Truth Waters: (singing) That’s fuckin’ teeeeamwoorrrrrk!
George Cassidy: Explain to me how Tenacious D is more acceptable than The Darkness.
Team three now stands tall, the only competitors on their feet momentarily, and as Murphy and Hamada struggle to rise Aaron Davies attempts to restore order. Rendering all previous arrangements null and void, Davies barks an instruction for the team to select a legal man; nobody moves. Nash turns to her partners, arguing that it’s her turn to do the business; Quiry appears quite willing to let her go at it but Hate simply raises his eyebrows and looks away.
George Cassidy: Folks, it looks like we have discontent in the ranks.
The focus shifts to Murphy and Hamada, the two who have recently become foes, who are going at it in the middle of the ring. Murphy’s arm drag is followed by a crescent kick by Hamada; The Bull dodges her follow-up thrust kick and cranks her leg through in a dragonscrew. Not relenting his hold on her leg, Murphy moves closer to keep a lock on her ankle, and Hamada winces as the submission hold becomes tight.
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy and Butterfly Hamada with a fast-paced exchange; now The Bull slows things with an ankle lock.
George Cassidy: I think Davies is going to have to accept those two as the legal representatives for their respective teams.
Tim Martin and Liam Martin are now on their feet, but the referee is on the scene, urging them away from the action and towards their corner. Seeing partner Murphy in charge, they reluctantly comply, moving through the ropes to the apron. Meanwhile, Andy Murray is seeing to Johnny Noble at ringside; the older man fell badly.
Truth Waters: Johnny Noble isn’t moving too well. Murray helping him out...
George Cassidy: It happens with age. Your ability to take a bump just goes.
Truth Waters: Neither of them have noticed that their partner Butterfly is in trouble!
The fans at ringside begin to yell to the Scottish King of Cool as Hamada begins to wilt in Murphy’s intense grip, reaching out in vain for ropes that aren’t there. Of more interest, though, is what is happening in the corner of the ring.
George Cassidy: These three are still bickering...
Hate slams his fist against his chest, fire in his eyes as he declares that only he is capable of winning this for the team. Ellis Nash looks as if she is going to argue, but then stops.
George Cassidy: No, assert yourself, Ellis!
Truth Waters: You just want to see her boobies bounce.
Hate nods, turning away towards the action, and quick as a flash Nash bends from behind him to slam her closed fist up between his legs!
Truth Waters: REGIONS SHOT!
George Cassidy: Ellis just turned on Hate!
Norman Quiry reels round, yelling at Nash, who shrugs before delivering a mule kick.
Truth Waters: ALLIANCES ARE GOING OUT OF THE WINDOW HERE!
George Cassidy: Ellis Nash doesn’t give a shit about either of her partners! She’s only in this for herself!
Nash now taps Davies on the shoulder and informs him she will be competing in the ring. He nods, before turning back to Murphy and Hamada. Butterfly looks like she’s about to crack...
Truth Waters: Could this be the end? Butterfly Hamada looks shot!
George Cassidy: Murray’s seen it! He’s on his way!
But Andy Murray’s interference isn’t needed as Ellis Nash runs to the ropes to springboard off the second one and nail a spinning kick to the head of Murphy.
George Cassidy: There she goes!
Truth Waters: Astonishing accuracy with the springboard heel kick!
George Cassidy: She didn’t lose her bearings as she span through the air... great balance, great poise, great legs...
Truth Waters: Dream. On.
The crowd’s high from seeing the athletic move is developed yet further as Murray enters the ring, taking two steps before landing a big leg drop on the face-down Murphy.
Truth Waters: Leg drop by Andy Murray to compound problems for The Bull...
George Cassidy: Get him out of there! Butterfly’s the legal ma – woman – for his team!
Indeed, Davies advances on Murphy, his reedy voice insistent that the Scotsman leaves the ring. Reluctantly, he does so. While the referee’s back is turned, The Fifth Horseman is back up... and he’s angry. Taking Nash unawares, he grabs her by the hair before turning her to face him and then the canvas. A moment later, her head hits it.
Truth Waters: ELEVENTH COMMANDMENT! The Eleventh Commandment on Ellis Nash!
George Cassidy: Cruel... HEARTLESS! Ellis Nash VICTIMISED by a man who’s supposed to be her partner!
Truth Waters: Yeah, like that wasn’t provoked.
Nash lays flat-out as The Furious Fists Of God suddenly hit the ring. Tim Martin heads towards Andy Murray, who begins to fend him off in surprise as Aaron Davies helps out.
Truth Waters: No! Watch Liam!
George Cassidy: An obvious decoy!
Liam Martin marches over and eliminates Johnny Noble, who has just popped up on the apron, with a downward blow to the skull. Mr Incredible drops down to the floor once again. Norman Quiry now engages his partner Hate, kicking him in the gut, but Hate ignores it and goes to sling Quiry into the ropes. N-Quiry reverses the Irish whip, and just as Liam turns he sees a big red head coming in his direction. Instinctively, he slams his fist into it.
George Cassidy: THE FIST OF GOD!
Truth Waters: That’s the finishing move for FFGod! An impromptu execution as Liam Martin saw Hate heading his way and reacted as best he could!
Liam gives Quiry a swift DDT and looks over to Tim, who gives a nod and grabs Butterfly Hamada by the hair, slamming her head into the turnbuckle. Murray angrily enters the ring and throws a fist, but the Fist blocks it and slams his own into the Scotsman’s face. He then tells Aaron Davies there’s a pinfall to count.
Truth Waters: What?
Liam Martin drapes Jack Murphy over Ellis Nash’s broken body and nips out of the ring, just as the young Welsh referee turns round. Remembering that The Bull and Nash are indeed legal competitors, he drops to the canvas and counts the fall.
George Cassidy: Liam Martin giving Murphy a little helping hand!
ONE!
Murray makes a desperate lunge towards the action, but Tim Martin fells him with a sweet drop toe hold.
TWO!
Quiry’s down. Hate’s down. Noble’s down on the outside with Liam delivering furious stomps.
Murray’s got Tim Martin on his case. Hamada’s slumped over the ringpost.
And Ellis Nash is prone beneath Jack Murphy’s body.
THREE!
George Cassidy: That’s it!
Truth Waters: One of the messiest matches in AWC history, but what did we expect from a nine-man melée?
Jack Murphy, who seems to have recovered during his time making the fall, gets to his feet and punches the air, before being high-fived by both his partners (Liam having left Noble motionless at ringside and Tim having made sure of Murray staying down with a camel clutch). The ring announcer climbs into the ring to announce their victory.
James Brunt: The winners, progressing into the Triangles match... Jack Murphy, Tim Martin and Liam Martin! The losers, progressing into the Frontier title contendership battle royal... Ellis Nash, Norman Quiry and Hate! And progressing into the Transatlantic title contendership tournament... Johnny Noble, Andy Murray and Butterfly Hamada!
Hate, rousing himself after taking The Fist Of God, is furious, but it was partly his own fault: Ellis Nash is still motionless after The Eleventh Commandment. Their partner Norman Quiry betrays little emotion as he brings himself to his feet; perhaps he knows another disappointing display hasn’t exactly impressed the AWC higher-ups. Butterfly Hamada’s expression is neutral as she extricates herself from the turnbuckle, Andy Murray is still laid out recovering from the camel clutch, and there’s a definite limp to Johnny Noble’s movement as he staggers up the ramp-way, not bothering to stay for a denouement with his team-mates. He laps up the cheers from the fans at the side of the ramp.
Truth Waters: A surprise?
George Cassidy: Not at all. Jack Murphy is The Most Talented Wrestler In AWC, and The Furious Fists Of God have shown definite flashes of star potential.
Truth Waters: A main event without Hate wouldn’t have been expected, though.
George Cassidy: He’s only got himself to blame for that senseless attack on poor Ellis. Do you think she’ll be OK?
Truth Waters: Of course she will. She’s wrestling another match soon.
All Out Of Chances
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
14 litres.
That’s how much blood Paddy O’Shea had lost altogether at the hands of Hate.
Looking at him now, it shows. O’Shea sits alone in the lobby of the building staring at his hands. He’s pale, too white to be healthy. His eyes are going too and his left one has a spontaneous twitch as well.
Two men nearly died… think about that for a second. Two men nearly ripped each other apart, scratching, biting, gouging, tearing, both of them teetering over the edge of life and death. Cages, bats, nails, barbed wire – they had both felt the full effect of these weapons, watched the thumbtacks tearing into their defenceless chests, cried tears of crimson as blood ran over their eyelashes. It had been a rollercoaster four months for Paddy O’Shea and Hate, Paddy himself had been hospitalised twice and left in crutches, had bumps on bumps, cuts on cuts. And all that was only in the ring. For even when Paddy was home, he was always looking into shadowy corners, watching for things that weren’t there. For four months he was terrified to sleep for fear of not waking up. To not see the morning again like so many of his countrymen.
It hadn’t been a pleasant experience and that was for sure but O’Shea had persevered in the darkest hours for only one thing. And that was to answer the all-important question about Hate’s apparently unprovoked aggression.
Why?
For four months he’d searched for it. And then he’d found it at Super Series as he watched members of his family drop like flies all around them, dragged from their peaceful life’s to fight because some crazed psychopath wanted him dead. He’d found it as the grip around his neck tightened, Hate literally squeezing the life from him. As the blood clotted around his throat, the bitter taste sickening him, Mike Wade had emerged revealing all. It was him. All him.
In those few moments where Wade claimed responsibility for inciting a deadly feud over nothing, the link of anger between O’Shea and Hate broke and new bonds were formed. Mike Wade who had been terrorising the AWC with Adam Dick these last few weeks, maiming and destroying anything in their path just for their goddamn kicks. The taste of disgust was now overwhelming that of the blood in O’Shea’s mouth.
If this was any other day, he’d walk away. But not today.
Today is Triangles.
Where bonds are formed and broken.
But he’s going to make it simpler than that.
Angles need ironing out.
And tonight, wrongs will be righted. He’s lost Mickey, he’s losing Crimson but that’s not a problem, they could only slow him down now anyway. Tonight, on his own, he’ll rid the AWC of Mike Wade.
Because if something isn’t done soon.
This fed will fall beneath him.
And when there’s nothing else left…
He can’t lose this.
He won’t lose this.
Paddy O’Shea rises to his feet, the haunting trance in his eyes a deeply disturbing sight, then makes his way down the hall… it’s time for business.
No Way, José
FEATURING: TTS
AUTHOR: ANGUS SINCLAIR
John and Harry of TTS approach the ring in black suits, crisp white shirts and Union Jack cufflinks. John takes the ring announcer's microphone.
John: Turn off our music please.
Truth Waters: I think I speak for us all when I say... THE HELL IS THIS?
The AWC fans seem to be almost pleased the TTS boys aren't in their work gear.
John: I am appalled, disgusted, in fact amazed at the shabby treatment of my partner Harry and myself.
The crowd are immediately on the innuendous connotations of the use of the word "partner".
George Cassidy: Oh, how mature.
John: We are athletes, sportsmen, gentlemen, entrepreneurs...
The crowd are hot.
John: We are so middle class – that Jamie Oliver rang us up to apologise.
Truth Waters: THE HELL IS HE?
John: As such you don't deserve to see us wrestle tonight, we're not selling ourselves out by wrestling this gimmicky match tonight, we can afford not to be paid tonight, we have an exclusive party to go to tonight and these stupid colours don't go with our Top Man trunks.
John now looks straight into the hard camera, he's no longer bothered about the fans’ disgust.
John: AWC – We wrestle on our own terms now, you want credible Alliance champions, we're credible athletes, we're incredible wrestlers; so stop treating us like card fillers. No more gimmicks, no more singles, no more cheap shots – we're coming for those belts, because we need a big bit of gold to go with our FCUK suits.
Truth Waters: THE HELL DO THEY THINK THEY ARE?
George Cassidy: Chillax, Truth.
John throws the microphone to the ground and the TTSs march out the arena before being chauffeured to the champagne opening of Lucci DeMartino's new club.
George Cassidy: Does that mean they aren’t competing?
Truth Waters: Who knows? Who cares?
George Cassidy: They can’t leave Aliso to fend for himself!
Tossing Red Flags In The Face Of A Bull
FEATURING: JACK MURPHY, ???
AUTHOR: FERGUS
The corridors of the FedEx Arena are quiet, but the crowd for Triangles can be heard right through. There's a faint drip, drip of water coming from one of the ceilings and other than that it's pretty derelict. The camera is moving along down the corridor and snooping around in general. It passes by a door, slightly ajar and suddenly it hears a commotion coming from within.
???: I thought I could trust you...
???: It's relatively simple, you've just been played for the fool.
Truth Waters: Those voices sound so familiar... come on cameraman, get in there!
George Cassidy: Didn't know you were a voyeur Truth.
The camera must be on a telepathic link with Truth as it pushes closer, looking through the slit left by the door being ajar. As it focuses in it can be seen that Jack Murphy is talking to somebody else, though that person has their back turned and so the camera is unable to identify him. Murphy quite clearly looks distressed.
Jack Murphy: You can't do this to me, do you honestly know who you're...
???: Oh the smallest violin is playing for you Jack but that's not going to help resolve the fact that I outsmarted you. So how does it feel?
Jack Murphy: I swear... don't trifle with me...
???: Or what? You'll take me down a notch? Think again old man, you're nothing but a has-been! Look at yourself, you've been outclassed by a superior, smarter, more handsome specimen of a man than you ever could have been in your youth. Speaking of which that was in the 1890's right? Because I might need some help with some history homework sometime...
Murphy slams his fist down on a nearby table and squares right up to the man in front of him. The man is smaller and lighter but he seems to take great pride in watching The Bull get so enraged.
Truth Waters: Whoever this is has a lot of guts.
George Cassidy: Or a death wish.
Truth Waters: True enough.
George Cassidy: Damn straight. See I am worthwhile on occasion, you've just got to recognise that Waters.
Truth Waters: I say one thing in agreement and you think you're the second coming. Get real Cassidy.
While Waters slaps his forehead in disbelief, Murphy is still towering over the man. Then we hear a faint chuckle from the other man.
Jack Murphy: (sharply) What?
???: Oh nothing, just curious as to how you thought I was going to be your disciple in your crusade for wrestling. Did you really think The Mongoose would be willing to deal with others?
Truth Waters: No, it's not...
George Cassidy: Yes it is... and what a gutsy call from Strider!
As the two commentators' eyeballs pop, Alexander Strider turns round to the camera and winks to them. It's all been a set-up.
Alex Strider: You know what, forget that one, you can give me my answer in the main event... if you make it that far. Toodles you great big oaf.
Strider walks to the door and opens it, just enough to let the camera get a good look at Murphy seething behind him. Strider flashes a grin and has one more thing to say.
Alex Strider: Oh and Jack? Smile! You're on candid camera!
The Mongoose heads through the door, out of shot and can be heard chuckling all the way down the corridor to himself. The camera locks on The Bull who is undescribable in his rage right now.
Truth Waters: Well... that's one way to piss off Murphy.
George Cassidy: Oh yeah.
Truth Waters: So that explains who he made the phone call to a couple of weeks ago. Jack Murphy wanted to bring in Alexander Strider to boost his campaign for old-school wrestling in AWC! Yet all Strider wanted was a way back in… I guess we'll see his reaction if he gets his hands on Strider later on. I think it's time we got on with the show don't you think?
George Cassidy: Be my guest.
Truth Waters: Wait, no, there's something...
The Task At Hand
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA, RED ROCK
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
Paddy O’Shea stood trembling, his small frame leaning up against the side of a drinks machine. He’d been waiting for fifteen minutes here, positive Wade would pass by here eventually. But all this alone time was having physical effects on him and he began regretting his decision to tell Shelly to stay at home. Right now, he needed someone to hold him up because man, all the weight of the world was on his shoulders now.
The sheet white O’Shea began to hear footsteps and he pulled himself up straight waiting for the first things to emerge from the other side of the machine, poised and ready to leap, his fist already cocked back and ready brain somebody.
The footsteps were getting closer now, the clack-clack-clack echoing all around this narrow corridor. Paddy scanned the area one more time; all the door’s were closed now meaning nowhere to run.
Clack-Clack-Clack
Getting closer.
Clack-Clack-Clack
And closer.
Clack-Clack-
Paddy O’Shea: Ye bastard!!
Paddy, unable to wait any longer ran around the machine and gored whatever was in his path to the floor. Blinded by rage he mounted the individual and raised a trained fist over his head.
Man: PADDY! WAIT, IT’S ME!
Paddy finally allowed his mind to acknowledge what was there. And what was there wasn’t pretty.
Red Rock: Jesus H. Christ Paddy, if you wanted to play cowboy you should have told me sooner and I would have brought the saddles.
Paddy stayed motionless for a few seconds then rolled off and got to his feet. He stayed silent for another few seconds then drove a fist into the soda machine, leaving a rupture in the mass of plastic.
Red Rock: Er… Paddy. If this is about the UWF thing, that was such a long time ago and I’m all AWC now. Can’t we just let it go?
Paddy didn’t answer; instead he cupped his hands over his face. How had he let it get this far? I mean, look at him. He was a mess, forced now to spring out on people like some kind of rat. This wasn’t Paddy O’Shea, this was Mike Wade. In the instance that followed, Paddy realised it was time to do things right.
Paddy turned around and clasped Red Rock’s hand, shaking it slowly.
Paddy O’Shea: Forgiven.
Red Rock looked at Paddy’s worn torn face and smiled. Three and a half years the day knew each other, always ending up in the same federations yet tonight was the first night, they would be tag partners. Red Rock put a hand on Paddy’s shoulder.
Red Rock: Paddy. I’m glad I’m teaming with you tonight, I really am. And you want to know why? Because I think it’s time we showed this city how to kick ass PCW style.
For the first time that night, Paddy smiled. The two began to walk down the hall now.
Paddy O’Shea: Aye think yer right Red. Aye think yer right.
Second Triangles Qualifier
RED ROCK/O'SHEA/O'MALEC vs MAPLELEAF/DICK/SHIPLEY vs TTS/ALISO
STIPULATION: THREE WAY TRIO TAG
REFEREES: LARS LARSSON AND JOSEPH REID
AUTHORS: RACE ALEXANDER, FERGUS AND PIERRE HYDE
Truth Waters: Alright looks like we're ready for our next match of the evening, the second in our qualifiers for the Triangles main event! If you ask me, this is all a bit confusing right now.
George Cassidy: You're telling me. You think hell will freeze over now?
Truth Waters: Maybe Cassidy, maybe.
George Cassidy: …
Truth Waters: Anyway....well it looks like everybody involved in this match is out here already, guess we're cutting some time for the show to make sure that this is all goes out in one piece...
George Cassidy: Meh, they're only entrances. I cannot believe how many we sat through for the opener. Just think about how many there’ll be for the main event…
Truth Waters: Yeah, cut the crap, let's see some wrestling boy!
George Cassidy: Wait a minute… there are only seven…
Truth Waters: Did TTS genuinely not turn up? How pathetic.
George Cassidy: Aliso’s gotta go solo!
In the ring Red Rock, Paddy O'Shea and Crimson O'Malec are in one corner, Tony Aliso on his lonesome in another and finally Adam Dick, Tim Shipley and Patrick Mapleleaf in the third corner – the fourth, of course, is empty. All three teams are eyeing each other cautiously ahead of this match.
Truth Waters: It's clear that everyone wants that shot to be in the main event but they're going to have to rely on people that they'll be facing later in the evening, regardless of whether or not they make the main event.
George Cassidy: So what the hell are these rules anyway?
Truth Waters: Three in the ring at a time, one pinfall finishes the match.
George Cassidy: Sorted. You sound kinda rushed Truth, something up?
Truth Waters: It's not me... someone else is tired. Needs to get this thing over and done with.
George Cassidy: R-ight.... maybe you need some sleep Truth yourself...
Meanwhile in the ring the bell sounds and as one, nine bodies come together and brawl all at once. Bodies are flying onto the canvas and it just looks impossible to tell who's doing what.
George Cassidy: Hold on, didn’t you say THREE in the ring at a time?
The first one to fly out of the mix is Patrick Mapleleaf, falling into the ropes and leaning against them. Without warning, Adam Dick comes rushing from the melee and hits a thunderous clothesline, sending Mapleleaf right over the top rope and to the floor. He cries out harshly, clutching at his leg and curling up into a ball on the floor outside the ring.
Truth Waters: Ow!
George Cassidy: He looks like he could be injured.
Ignoring the Canadian, most of the wrestlers continue to engage one another in the centre of the ring. Some of the audience has stopped watching the action, worried (worried? Cackling with glee, more like) at Mapleleaf's discomfort. Meanwhile inside the ring Adam Dick chuckles to himself and turns round back into the action.
Truth Waters: He's on the same team as Mapleleaf! Why would he do that??
George Cassidy: Because he can you idiot!
Truth Waters: Well whatever. As we're seeing in the ring now the teams are pairing off but there's no chance of tagging happening here. There's no damn way of policing it.
Aliso isn't doing so well, being pounded on horribly by Tim Shipley, venting his frustration on his former partner. With an almighty whack he punches Aliso right in the jaw, knocking him down, before he brings him up and tosses him right over the top rope!
Truth Waters: Hmm... it looks like some people just really aren't trying for this one, look how easily Aliso was tossed out there.
George Cassidy: Well it's one way of sorting the men from the boys here Truth. It'll be good in the long run for AWC.
Truth Waters: That's true, you've got to be at the top of your game.
We're left with five in the ring now and the only team still with their whole contingent present is the team of Red Rock, O'Shea and O'Malec. The Emerald Isle look around for someone to actually fight, and with TTS, their natural opponents, absent, they shrug and start playing to the crowd. In the middle, Red Rock, Shipley and Adam Dick are trading shots.
Tim Shipley: Adam – for God’s sake – you’re on my team –
Adam Dick: Blow me!
Red Rock gives up on trying to keep up with the two of them and instead resorts to watching, taking a bit of a breather. Shipley and Dick trade fast and furious shots until O’Malec approaches Dick and O’Shea Shipley; the two enemies-who-are-supposed-to-be-partners-here swing around with simultaneous spinning elbows to knock out the original Emerald Isle duo. Red Rock throws in his help now, running in with a sliding elbow to the face of Dick, resulting in a nice crunching noise that can be heard quite well. The crowd ”ooh!”s a little bit. On the outside it seems Mapleleaf is finally being taken away, strapped to a gurney but still crying out in pain.
Truth Waters: This one could keep him out of whatever match he’ll go through to later…
George Cassidy: Yep. Or, perhaps, he’s faking.
Truth Waters: What is Aliso doing? Why is he following all the EMTs?
What Truth says is... well true as Aliso runs to catch up with the medical team, beginning to harass them about something to do with his leg. He shouts at them, trying to put across that Mapleleaf is faking it but the EMTs are ignoring him. He follows them all the way, leaving the arena and his teammates behind.
Truth Water: Strange, strange match.
George Cassidy: Yeah... but can you blame them?
Truth Waters: Nope, but I think...
George Cassidy: Don't finish that sentence.
Truth Waters: But...
George Cassidy: Just don't.
Truth Waters: I don't know why I'm listening to you. Has hell really frozen over?
George Cassidy: I do feel kinda chilly...
Truth Waters: No, we can't be agreeing, this just isn't possible.
George Cassidy: Believe it baby! Bring on the dark side Truth!
Truth Waters: NOOOOOOOOO!!!!
While those two continue to ramble on, believe it or not, a match is actually in progress, despite the actions of Aliso and Mapleleaf’s apparent injury. Dick and Shipley seem to have stopped fighting – for now anyway – and have taken on Red Rock and O'Malec respectively. Paddy, with no one to fight, looks despondently out at the crowd – but suddenly two midgets dressed in trendy London gear jump the barricade and roll into the ring!
Truth Waters: What the hell?
George Cassidy: We have fake TTS!
O’Shea snarls, taking them down at his leisure, knocking one at a time, not seeing the funny side of this. Unexpectedly, Paddy hits one hell of a kick to the nuts and then plants “John” with the Top of the Morn!
Truth Waters: Top of the Morn!
George Cassidy: And look! The Eaterplex!
Truth Waters: The RDT!
George Cassidy: The RKO! What???!
Truth Waters: Eternal Hope! “Harry” and “John” are dead!!
George Cassidy: They were only playing around! We’re gonna get sued!
Indeed they are and the crowd pops for the displays of finishers from those left in the match. O'Malec is conspicuously absent and we find this out as soon as we see him chilling at ringside with a swig of Guinness.
Truth Waters: I don't believe it.
George Cassidy: I'd like to say that I've seen everything but that's blatantly untrue...
Truth Waters: Have we entered a parallel universe?
George Cassidy: Yeah... writer's block.
Truth Waters: What?
George Cassidy: Sorry broke kayfabe there. Forget about it, I'll tell you after the match.
Truth Waters: Alright...
Adam Dick and Tim Shipley look around and see that only Paddy O'Shea and Red Rock stand in their way. Quickly, Dick nails Red Rock with the Eaterplex ’05 and then follows up with a cover. Shipley meanwhile takes it to Paddy, making the cover elementary for Dick.
George Cassidy: Eaterplex again! No contest.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The beleaguered referee, having abandoned any pretence of a rule-abiding match, counts the fall and with relief ends the match.
Truth Waters: And we have a winner to go on to the main event! Shipley and Dick combined long enough for them to take the victory.
George Cassidy: This nine-man tag match ended up a free-for-all…
Truth Waters: Pearl might wish to rethink the booking when Triangles 2006 comes around.
Hardliner
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, PRODUCTION CREW
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Pearl: Does anyone want to explain to me why T.T.S. didn’t show up for that match?
The production crew look around in confusion, surprised and a little pleased at the invasion of the little space the sound box affords them by the Entertainment Manager himself.
Techie: Um, um, didn’t you, um, see what they said earlier?
Pearl: What? No, I haven’t been watching everything, I’ve been busy sorting stuff out. What’s going on?
Techie: They, like, um, said that they were too good for it, or, um, something like that.
Placing his hands on his hips, Harber sighs.
Pearl: While they’re in my promotion, they go by my booking. If they don’t turn up for the losers’ battle royal, they’re fired. Let them know.
The techie nods.
Pearl: Now!
Techie: Um, um, I’ve got, like, stuff to do, or the whole show dies.
Pearl sighs.
Pearl: Fine, fine... want something done, you do it yourself...
The stressed-looking Entertainment Manager storms out to find Harry and John.
Frontier Contendership Battle Royal
NASH VS QUIRY VS HATE VS HARRY VS JOHN VS ALISO
STIPULATION: BATTLE ROYAL
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHORS: FERGUS, JOE SCHMIDT AND PIERRE HYDE
Truth Waters: We're back, guys, and without any delay we've got another jam packed match right off the bat!
George Cassidy: For all of Pearl's faults, I'll give him credit that he's providing a lot of matches tonight.
Truth Waters: For once you're actually right. We've already had the two qualifiers for tonight's main event and right now we're about to have the first resultant match; the Battle Royal for the number one contendership for the Frontier title!
George Cassidy: You know, you might want to speed things up because they're in the ring...
Truth Waters: I know, but we've a few more ring...
George Cassidy: ... All of them.
Truth Waters: Oh... well let's hand it over to James Brunt so.
Without any interlude the camera shifts to the centre of the ring where James Brunt is standing precariously, readily aware that there are six wrestlers around him... one of whom is Hate. Nervously he begins.
James Brunt: (nervously) The following is a Battle Royal for the #1 contendership to the Frontier championship! In the ring... HATE! NORMAN QUIRY! TONY ALISO! HARRY TTS! JOHN TTS! AND ELLIS NASH!
Truth Waters: Looks like TTS gave in after Harber threatened to fire them for not turning up to their previous match, leaving Aliso to fend for himself against six opponents.
George Cassidy: They’re going to be fresher than everyone else, though – perhaps that was the idea all along!
The crowd gives a good welcome for the majority of those involved with obvious exceptions. It's very noticeable that the qualifiers have taken a lot out of these wrestlers; Ellis Nash is still moving awkwardly after taking The Eleventh Commandment from her supposed partner Hate.
George Cassidy: I can’t believe Ellis is being made to compete. She deserves some bed rest and a sensual massage…
Truth Waters: Snap out of it Cassidy. Fans you know the rules for a Battle Royal… and there's the bell! It's mayhem in less than a second!
All five men... and Ellis Nash swarm the ring as one and begin pounding upon each other in the centre. The referees are circled round the ring, waiting for the action to really take off. Harry and John TTS, being the tag team immediately ganging up on Ellis Nash, one of them grabbing her in a waistlock, while the other gives her some punches right to the face. Meanwhile, Hate has Quiry by the ropes and is trying to push him over, however Quiry manages to slip Hate's grasp, sliding behind and taking him over with a suplex. In the corner Aliso skulks, waiting to pick his spot, barely moving at all.
Truth Waters: What is Aliso doing? Or rather; what is he not doing?
George Cassidy: Just you wait Truth, when he decides to make his move it shall be swift and devastating.
Just then, suddenly Aliso makes a sudden charge right towards Hate and Quiry. He screams his lungs, perhaps thinking he is indeed the Karate Kid. Ultimately this fails miserably as both Quiry and Hate turn to back body drop him right over the top rope and clean to the outside.
James Brunt: TONY ALISO IS ELIMINATED!
Truth Waters: Some devastation he wreaked.
George Cassidy: ...
Truth Waters: Cat got your tongue huh?
George Cassidy: Shut up.
Both Quiry and Hate look pleased with themselves until it occurs that they both have still four other people to get through. They return to trading shots with one another, lefts and rights impacting time after time, Hate eventually taking control with a knee to the gut. Grabbing him into a powerbomb set up he pulls Quiry up powerfully and then to the mat with a bone-crunching sit-down powerbomb. Out of nowhere Ellis Nash comes flying down on top of Quiry, the receiver of a double arm drag by Harry and John. The crowd pops at this, eager to see the vile Nash get all the punishment she deserves.
Truth Waters: Very impressive manoeuvres there from all three men involved, this battle royal is just heating up now.
George Cassidy: (yawns)
Truth Waters: I thought you were a connoisseur or wrestling?
George Cassidy: I'm saving myself for the main event.
Truth Waters: Fair enough.
All five competitors in the ring are soon back on their feet, getting right back into things, fists flying and legs swinging. They don't seems to be getting anywhere until a big boot from Hate to Harry suspends things. This is swiftly followed by a snap suplex from Nash on John, taking him down which is no mean feat. Quiry meanwhile drives an elbow right to the throat of Harry, sending him into convulsions and spasms right there in the centre of the ring, foaming at the mouth.
George Cassidy: Gimmick Infringement!
Truth Waters: Sssh! You know how touchy they are about that right now.
George Cassidy: Sorry... sorry...
Quiry continues his attention on Harry, driving his elbow again before applying a headlock on the ground. Hate looks on in amusement at this, choosing to kick at the soft belly of Harry and add to his torture. Nash has picked up John by now and aims a couple of forearm smashes right to the nose, then nails a kick right to the jaw. John teeters right into the ropes and the rest is elementary as Nash clotheslines John over the top rope.
James Brunt: JOHN TTS IS ELIMINATED!
Truth Waters: There goes –
George Cassidy: Hold on…
We’re more than carbon and chemicals
We are the image of the invisible
Both commentators turn to watch the stage curiously, as the music of The Unfuckables begins to boom out. Sure enough, out walk the Unfuckables. Mike Wade and Adam Dick.
Truth Waters: What are The Unfuckables doing out here? This isn’t their time!
George Cassidy: Wade and Dick are gonna liven up this snorefest!
Their terror begins as they quickly jump into the ring, double clotheslining Harry over the top rope to join his partner.
George Cassidy: Yes! Yes! It’s finally a good match!
James Brunt: HARRY TTS IS ELIMINATED!
Truth Waters: It isn’t even a match anymore!
Hate and Norman Quiry are still more occupied with each other, exchanging blows. Mike Wade turns his attentions to Ellis Nash, while Adam Dick locks up with Tony Aliso, who has mysteriously re-entered the ring, and hits the Eaterplex ’05.
George Cassidy: EATERPLEX ’05!
Truth Waters: That’s nearly out of date, you know.
George Cassidy: The Unfuckables are dominating this ring!
Truth Waters: But WHY? This isn’t even their place!
After putting both superstars through a questionable amount of pain, then forcing their exits over the ropes, they look at each other, then at Hate. Hate had just powerslammed Norman Quiry to the mat, and now tosses his limp body out of the ring. He then turns to The Unfuckables, who immediately overcome the big man with their double teaming maneuvers.
James Brunt: Norman Qu – oh, never mind – no contest –
Brunt and the referee leave the ringside area as The Unfuckables suplex Hate down.
Truth Waters: They seem to be targeting Hate with the most venom.
The two make good of Hate, kicking him out under the ring, then proceed to berate the crowd with their magical microphone that appears out of nowhere.
Mike Wade: Let this be proof to you all, that every single last one of you feckin’ sucks! If anyone is going to take that title off of Tim Shipley, it’s going to be me!
Again, “Image of the Invisible” by Thrice plays, and the writer of this segment is finally able to get some sleep.
Johnny Noble vs Andy Murray vs Butterfly Hamada
TRANSATLANTIC CHAMPIONSHIP CONTENDERSHIP TOURNAMENT, FIRST ROUND
STIPULATION: THREE WAY FURY, FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
Truth Waters: What a disastrous battle royal that ended up as. Let’s hope this goes better: it’s time for the first of two Three Way Fury matches. The winner of each will go through to fight later on to claim that number one contendership for the coveted Transatlantic title.
George Cassidy: Following the aftermath of the first Triangles qualifier earlier, the team that neither won nor lost will fight between themselves to claim the spot for later on tonight.
Truth Waters: And for this first qualifier, it’s Johnny Noble versus Butterfly Hamada versus Andy Murray.
George Cassidy: Jobber, jobber and er, Scottish jobber. Next please.
Truth Waters: So subtle. Okay, let’s hand it over to James Brunt to get this show on the road.
George Cassidy: And out of the road…
The trumpets sound and the audience explodes. The trumpets sound again and they're on their feet. The bass kicks in, the blue and white lights roam and flash about the arena, "Mr. Incredible" Johnny Noble walks out and the roof comes off the building! He walks down wearing his latest merchandise, slapping hands, posing for photos, kissing babies. Then he stops at the base of the ring steps, pulls off the t-shirt and gives it to the youngest ringside fan he can find. Then he gets in the ring and points to north side of the arena, beating his chest after to work the crowd. Then the east, then south, then west. He does a circular overhead motion (like a tornado) and beats his chest again with the whole arena being worked up.
James Brunt: The following is a Three Way Fury, Falls Count Anywhere match, and is in the first round of the Transatlantic championship contendership tournament! Introducing first, from Bellingham, Washington, weighing in at 290 pounds…JOHNNY NOBLE!
Truth Waters: Noble certainly looking hyped for this encounter. He’s seemingly shrugged off his team’s earlier failure to make it to the Triangles match.
Suddenly Butterfly Hamada’s theme song begins to boom from the speakers and the lady herself emerges from the curtain. She waves to the crowd then makes her way to the ring.
James Brunt: Making her way to the ring, from Tokyo, Japan, weighing in at 160 pounds… BUTTERFLY HAMADA!
“Hand Of Blood” by Bullet For My Valentine hits, and the crowd pops hugely for the Scottish King of Cool.
James Brunt: Finally, from Aberdeen, Scotland, weighing in at 270 pounds... the Scottish King of Cool, ANDY MURRAY!
On his way down to the ring, Andy Murray slaps hands with a couple of the fans, before finally reaching the bottom of the ramp, and leaping up onto the outside of the ring. Facing the entrance, he raises an arm up in the air once again, as white pyros ignite from the ring posts behind him. Finally, the music begins to die down, as Murray stands in the centre of the ring, ready to go.
George Cassidy: Oh God, this waster better get beaten. I don’t think I can take three matches in one night involving the Highland Sheep Shagger.
Truth Waters: Why, were you watching him?
George Cassidy: Oh, you are soooo childish.
Truth Waters: Right this match looks just about ready for takeoff.
George Cassidy: What the hell is up with your crappy phrases tonight? This isn’t NASA you diff.
Truth Waters: Shad dap, its PPV night, I can say what I want.
George Cassidy: Oh really? Well how about fuckcuntshitbollocks?
Truth Waters: I DIDN’T SAY YOU COULD!
Noble, Hamada and Murray all meet in the centre of the ring and shake give high fives. Then they return to their corners and wait for the bell to ring.
Truth Waters: Wow, the team spirit is still there.
George Cassidy: Yeah well so is the smell the three of them created earlier. They STINK!
The bell rings and Hamada bursts from her corner, dropkicking Noble before he can even turn around sending him face first into the turnbuckle. She then runs at Murray, ducks a clothesline and swipes his feet in one fluid motion.
Truth Waters: Nice start from the young lady from Japan.
George Cassidy: Ha! The bitch made those two her bitches.
Hamada turns back around to Noble and begins applying stern kicks to his midsection before connecting with a nice roundhouse; Noble slumps down onto the mat. Murray’s back up however and he nails the unsuspecting Hamada with a full nelson powerslam.
George Cassidy: Women beater!
Truth Waters: Come on, Hamada wouldn’t like to think she was being treated differently for being female and Murray sees that.
George Cassidy: So what you’re saying is that Hamada wants Murray to kick her ass so he’ll do just because she asked?
Truth Waters: Er…sort of.
George Cassidy: You hear that people? It’s okay to kick her ass because she appreciates it!
Noble is on his feet now and Murray turns to face him while Hamada lies on the mat. The two lockup but the much younger Murr easily overpowers Noble. Noble seems to shake for a few seconds as the Scottish King Of Cool forces him towards the ropes then suddenly Noble explodes forward and literally throws Murray half ways across the ring to a huge pop from the crowd.
George Cassidy: Oh the 80’s.
Truth Waters: What about them?
George Cassidy: They were great weren’t they? I mean back then, something like that was REALISTIC.
Truth Waters: Don’t doubt the power of Noble! He keeps energy stores from taking his vitamins and saying his prayers!
George Cassidy: Trust you to make everything bloody religious.
Noble now starts beating his chest to the crowd. This little stunt proves costly now because as he turns back around, a raging Butterfly whams his out of nowhere with a Yakuza kick. Butterfly keeps her movement going, bounces off the ropes and nails Noble with a front flip legdrop.
Truth Waters: Noble taking his eye off the ball and Hamada capitalising. This young lady is demanding SOMETHING from this PPV.
George Cassidy: Well old Georgy Porgy here has a track record in kissing the girls. Maybe her and me could try something new for a change. Eh? Eh?
Truth Waters: God, I need a new partner.
Hamada stalks Murray and allows him to get to his feet she then runs at him but Murr manages to flip her up and over the top rope. She falls awkwardly to the outside. Murray looks at her anxiously, hesitates then exits the ring. He bends down and shakes Hamada to see if she’s okay. She remains still…then WHAM! She drills Murray with a head butt. As quick as a flash, she’s on her feet and almost immediately, Murray is on the floor as she nails him with a spinning bird kick.
George Cassidy: STREET FIGHTER!!!
Truth Waters: HOO-COI!
Hamada sees Noble getting up in the ring so she sends a fireball his way. Johnny leapfrogs it and stretchy arm punches her to the mat. Noble teleports ten feet above Hamada and legdrops down! Murray however capitalises and manages to do that Ryu spinning legdrop but its blocked and countered with the one hundred hands from Noble!!
Truth Waters: Cassidy! Wake up!
George Cassidy: Wa?
Truth Waters: You fell asleep!
George Cassidy: Who’s winning?
Truth Waters: Well Noble leg-dropped Hamada from the apron then Murray went for a kick but Noble blocked it with a punch.
George Cassidy: God, my God, with THAT quality, this really is a bloody comedown.
Noble grabs Hamada by the scruff and pushes her back in the ring. He climbs in after her, runs off the ropes, bounces back and hits a tidy legdrop. He then pulls her up and throws her into the turnbuckle. Saluting to the crowd he mounts the second rope and begins a ten punch!
ONE! TWO! THREE!
Truth Waters: Four, Five, Six
George Cassidy: Seven, Eight, Ni- WHAT!
Hamada slips underneath Noble’s grasp, manages to get behind him while he’s still on the second rope and then jumps up and reverse hurricanranas him! Noble hits the mat hard.
Truth Waters: Brilliant stuff by the Butterfly!
George Cassidy: Gee, I wonder if she can bring some of those moves to the bedroom. Rar!
Truth Waters: Props to Yran.
George Cassidy: Hm?
Truth Waters: Oh come on, if the writer can get away with a Street Fighter spot, he can get away with that!
George Cassidy: True and he can get away with making me say Mick is the most talented writer this federation has ever seen! Plus he’s really hot! But I won’t say it.
Truth Waters: Yeah, it goes without saying…
Hamada jumps on top of Noble for the early pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Murr grabs Hamada by the ankles and pulls her away before swinging her around and throwing her back outside. She seems to connect with the guardrail outside.
Truth Waters: Ouch! Looks like team spirit is going out the window.
Murray hits Noble with a quick elbow drop before climbing the top rope. Murray jumps off with his knee cocked and connects with Noble’s forehead. Analysing the situation, Murr dives onto Noble for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Noble grabs the ropes!
Truth Waters: Bad choice by the Scottish King of Cool, he really should have knew Noble was much too close to the ropes.
George Cassidy: Only one solution for that…fire him!
Murray pulls Noble to his feet and puts him straight back down with a thundering DDT. He pulls him to his feet once again and punches him once in the gut. Noble starts to shake again.
Truth Waters: Noble’s charging up!
George Cassidy: Damn 80’s.
Murray looks slightly anxious so he sends an elbow to Nobles temple. He stumbles but then starts shaking again. Murr looks at the referee who looks set to stop the match because Noble’s just contracted Parkinson’s disease but before he can Murray plants a boot into Noble’s stomach, and goes for a suplex, but Noble reverses instead!
Truth Waters: Why Noble’s looking hot for such an old wrestler.
George Cassidy: So you like grandpa porn then?
Truth Waters: WHAT?
Noble chants are ended prematurely as Hamada hits the ring and dropkicks Noble from behind. Noble stays on his feet but is put down with some Sweet Chin Music. The nippy youngster vaults onto the turnbuckle and flies off with a body splash, connecting badly with Noble and inevitably hurting herself.
Truth Waters: All three superstars are down!
George Cassidy: The race is on! Who will win? Who gives a flying fuck?
There is some stirring from Murray but its Hamada who is the first to react. She pulls herself over to Noble’s body and lies on top for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-!
Truth Waters: NO! NOBLE KICKED OUT!
George Cassidy: There’s fight in El Sideburns yet!
Hamada can’t believe it. However her disbelief is suspended as Murray suddenly lifts her up from behind and throws her with an overhead belly to belly. He not turns to Noble. Noble is pulled to the mat and hit with a stiff punch then lifted into the air into a military press. The crowd silences in awe.
Truth Waters: Two months. That’s how long Murr has been out. And look. At. That. Strength!
George Cassidy: Noble can’t fight back, he’s already had the snot kicked out of him by the girl.
Murray suspends the hold then walks forward and letting Noble drop face first. He stalks Noble as he struggles to his feet, the crowd now a mix of Noble and Murray cheers. Noble turns around and into a big boot from Murray but the 80’s legend stays on his feet and instead stumbles back into the turnbuckle. Murray forces Noble up onto the turnbuckle then he climbs up himself preparing for a superplex. But…
Truth Waters: Hamada back up!
George Cassidy: God, when will this end?
Murray is about to hoist Noble into the air but suddenly Butterfly flies into the air and nails a Twin Killing – a double jumping brain kick. The impact sends Murray forward who headbutts Noble and the two lose their balance and come crashing down, the turnbuckle catching both of them in the REGIONS~!
Truth Waters: Hamada has these tow men, exactly where she wants them now!
Hamada now climbs onto the first rope and reverse DDTs Murray to the mat with a thud. Murray rolls out of the ring in pain. She then pulls Noble by the hair and throws him onto the mat below. She herself jumps onto the turnbuckle and salutes to the crowd. She then jumps off and hits her finisher! A top rope corkscrew moonsault splash!
Truth Waters: Arco Celestial! My God! The carnage!
George Cassidy: Just the pin now love! Do it for Georgey!
Hamada struggles but eventually manages to put an arm over Noble.
ONE!
This is it!
TWO!
Hamada for the match later on!
THR-
Hamada looks up and watches Jack Murphy from nowhere nail the referee with a steel chair. She struggles to her feet but is put straight back down with a chair shot from Murphy. Murphy then kicks her out of the ring and then makes a swift exit.
Truth Waters: THAT BASTARD! HE JUST HIT BUTTERFLY!
George Cassidy: So was Murray and Noble…
Truth Waters: Don’t make jokes Cassidy, that was just sick!
Murray manages to pull himself into the ring, unaware of what was going on and crawls slowly over to Noble. He sees the motionless body and throws an arm over him. The referee is seriously struggling to lift his arm for the count but manages to do so very slowly.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Truth Waters: NO!
George Cassidy: What happened?
Truth Waters: Murray stopped! He realised what happened!
With an “Ah, hard luck” smile on his face, Murray picks himself up and slides out of the ring towards Butterfly Hamada. He takes one look out at the crowd… and then lays down, pulling Hamada on top of himself.
George Cassidy: THERE’S TIME FOR CANOODLING LATER!
Truth Waters: No, Cassidy, falls count anywhere!
Reid sprints over and counts the fall, despite the hugely confused reaction by the fans.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
James Brunt: The winner… BUTTERFLY HAMADA!
George Cassidy: Sportsmanship or stupidity?
Truth Waters: It wouldn’t have needed to happen if The Bull hadn’t made that sickening attack on Hamada. I hope to God that Murphy gets the shit kicked out of him later.
George Cassidy: YOU CAN’T SAY THAT!
Truth Waters: I just did Cassidy. Fair play to Murray, he knew Hamada had had it won and did the sporting thing, though I’m sure Butterfly won’t be happy with this win when she watches it later on.
Disturbed
FEATURING: ALEXA KENDERICKS, MADDY ESTELLE, TRACY, CHAINZ
AUTHORS: MIKE S. AND KRIS BARTON
The camera opens up within the backstage area of the FedEx Forum, Memphis Tennessee, where we see the battered and bruised figure of Alexa Kendericks walking along the corridor, a bulky looking travel bag casually draped over her shoulder, trying desperately to ignore the concern, pitiful glances she is receiving from a variety of the backstage staff. One of them is caring enough to even stop her by the arm.
Backstage Staff: Alexa, are you okay?
Alexa just grunts something inaudible at the man and wrenches her arm away from his light grasp, without too much exertion. Then she continues along the corridor, leaving the man looking a little confused and hurt in her wake. Then comes the rather familiar stiletto footsteps of AWC backstage reporter Maddy Estelle approaching. Alexa realizes precisely who is coming and curses under her breath. As Estelle approaches, her face twists in horror as she examines Alexa’s face closely.
Maddy Estelle: Damn!
Alexa sighs.
Alexa Kendericks: Can I do something for you?
Estelle is visibly having a rather difficult time to haul her eyes away from the grotesqueness of her injuries.
Maddy Estelle: What? Erm…hi how ya doin’?
Alexa rolls her eyes around the back of her head.
Alexa Kendericks: I’m fine. What do you want?
Maddy Estelle: I’m here to talk about what happened last week…
Alexa Kendericks: You when you started a fight between Chainz and I? Which caused (pointing towards her bruised eye) this?
Estelle backs away, understandably nervous.
Maddy Estelle: There’s no need to be that way! I mean, it wasn’t me who messed up your face!
Now Alexa grows visibly angry and grabs Estelle by the collar.
Alexa Kendericks: No, but it was your dumbass fault!
Maddy Estelle: You can’t blame me for what Chainz did to you!
Alexa Kendericks: Perhaps not.
With that Alexa unhands Estelle and composes herself. Then Alexa goes to continue along the corridor once again, but Estelle places a hand on her shoulder for her to stop.
Maddy Estelle: Can I get a few word from you about the matter?
Alexa sighs.
Alexa Kendericks: No…
Alexa begins to walk away again, but Maddy follows her. They continue walking until Alexa sees Chainz’s girlfriend and manager Tracy standing alone. Tracy notices the two and approaches them, cautiously.
Tracy: Hi Alexa, Maddy.
Alexa Kendericks: What is it?
Tracy: Listen, I want to apologize to you for what happened. Chainz can go too far sometimes.
Alexa Kendericks: You don’t say, look what he did to my face!
Tracy: I’m sorry, what can I say. He can go a bit crazy sometimes.
Alexa Kendericks: A bit?
Tracy: Well okay, a lot.
Alexa Kendericks: What the hell is wrong with him? Why was he licking me and petting me, is he insane?
Tracy: On the contrary, he’s a genius. He’s just a bit disturbed.
Alexa Kendericks: You don’t say. How are you his girlfriend?
Tracy: Well that’s a side of him I never see. He treats me like a princess, he’d never hurt me. He loves me.
Alexa Kendericks: Yeah you keep telling yourself that and when he snaps and bashes your head in you’ll see him for who he really is.
Tracy: Listen, I’ll talk to him. I’ll try to calm him down.
As Alexa is about to answer, but suddenly stops.
Voice: Hey babe…
The camera pans out to see the massive frame of Chainz coming towards the much smaller woman. Alexa’s eyes widen as the full realization of her situation hits her like a well placed punch to the stomach. She whirls around and slowly backs away.
Alexa Kendericks: Chainz…
The terror in Alexa’s eyes visibly grows, as Chainz draws closer to her.
Alexa Kendericks: No…
Chainz: No? I like that, say it again.
With that Alexa thrusts her travel bag at Chainz, which knocks him back and winds him a little, and takes off, along the corridor. The wild fear painted across here face for everybody to see as she glances back now and then to see if the monster as any intentions of following her.
Chainz wraps his arms around the shoulders of Tracy and Maddy. Tracy just looks upset, but Maddy has a genuine look of terror on her face. Chainz kisses both women on the cheek.
Chainz: Think I should chase her?
Chainz laughs as he scoops up Alexa’s bag and begins looking through it. He finds a bra and stuffs it into his pocket, but not before getting a good whiff of it.
Chainz: Come on honey.
Chainz slaps Maddy Estelle on the butt and then grabs Tracy’s hand and leads her down the hallway. Maddy just stands there still in shock about what happened.
Red Rock vs Paddy O'Shea vs Crimson O'Malec
TRANSATLANTIC CHAMPIONSHIP CONTENDERSHIP TOURNAMENT, FIRST ROUND
STIPULATION: THREE WAY FURY, FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHORS: FERGUS AND PIERRE HYDE
'Raggle Taggle Gypsy' by Christy Moore hits the arena to a raucous cheer from the crowd, one section in particular who are heartily chugging away on Guinness and making one hell of a noise in general. Paddy O'Shea enters the main ring stage area and thrusts a triumphant hand into the air, revelling in the crowd's excitement. Once he sees the crowd by the barricades chugging away he heads over, getting a quick sip of some Guinness and celebrating them before heading into the ring.
James Brunt: The following is a Three Way Fury, Falls Count Anywhere match, and is in the first round of the Transatlantic championship contendership tournament! Introducing first, from Galway, Ireland… THE MAN FROM THE CARAVAN, PADDY O'SHEA!
Another cheer rises from the arena as Paddy scales the closest turnbuckle and raises his fists high, mimicking downing a couple of jars to the audience.
Truth Waters: Paddy looks like he's enjoying himself despite earlier on not progressing into the Triangles main event. He's really getting into the spirit of a sporting occasion such as this one.
George Cassidy: A little too well if you ask me, do you think he's had a couple in the back as a pick me up?
Truth Waters: Nonsense, our athletes are of the highest standards and would do no such stupid thing. Paddy, of all people, is an example of this.
George Cassidy: He just drank from somebody in the audience's can!
Truth Waters: That doesn't count, how intolerant do you think he is? He's Irish for Christ’s sake!
George Cassidy: True, true.
Paddy has settled down now and the arena has quietened down a fair bit for Brunt to have a bit of time on the microphone himself and announce the next competitor before his music hits. Well, almost as 'Carmina Burana' explodes from the PA.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Daytona Beach, Florida...
Scurrying out of the back comes the one and only Crimson O'Malec, again getting a good cheer from the crowd and without much acknowledgement from the crowd he legs it into the ring, sliding in and saluting from there, giving Paddy a warm handshake.
James Brunt: ...CRIMSON O'MALEC!
Truth Waters: Nice bit of sportsmanship from the Emerald Isle team-mates. This is really going to be an interesting match as for once each competitor is not only loved by the fans, but they also have extreme respect for one another.
George Cassidy: Respect? More like a little too much manly love...
Truth Waters: I'm warning you.
While Cassidy sneers, 'Blame Thrower' by Reuben hits the PA and the crowd keeps up the cheers as Red Rock, with Boolie in tow makes their way to the ring, slapping people's hands and rushing the ring. He walks around it, continuing to slap hands and interact as much as possible with the crowd.
Truth Waters: Red Rock of course is coming off of finally losing his Livewire championship...
George Cassidy: ...to 'The Bull' Jack Murphy! Finally the saviour is making his way and not being held down!
Truth Waters: You can jerk off to him when he's on the show alright? Right now we're busy with the ones that have a match.
George Cassidy: You can't say jerk off!
Truth Waters: Sure I can, it's fucking PPV!
George Cassidy: Excellent! I may just have to entertain myself, because God knows these guys won't, and invent some horrible language.
Truth Waters: You better not.
James Brunt: Finally, from Aldershot, England… RED ROCK!
The crowd pops one more time for Red Rock and immediately begins pumping itself up for what is set to be one hell of a match.
Truth Waters: Referee Lars Larsson is going to be officiating this one folks and I think he's drawn one of the easiest matches of tonight. There's gonna be no problems with cheating or underhanded tactics tonight I can feel it.
George Cassidy: Stupid arse-cunt...
Truth Waters: If you even try to continue you'll have your own arse-cunt in your face.
Cassidy unsurprisingly stops talking at that stage and just in time too as Lars Larsson rings the bell. All three men meet in the centre of the ring and knock fists and exchange a few pleasantries, before returning to different corners and circling each other closely.
Truth Waters: Have you noticed all six of the competitors in these three-ways are crowd favourites?
George Cassidy: Ya, ‘cause they’re all losers.
Paddy is the first to act, making a dart for Crimson, trying to nail him with a diving tackle. O'Malec is wise to his partner, vaulting over him and rushing towards the ropes, bouncing off them and heading towards Red Rock. He leapfrogs O'Malec, turning just in time to catch him on the backlash from the opposite ropes, hitting an armdrag, only for O'Malec to land on his feet. He would continue except Paddy grabs him, throwing him over his head for a vicious suplex. O'Malec hits the canvas to a pop from the crowd as this match is off to a fast start.
Truth Waters: There's no let up from the start! Look at Red Rock taking it to Paddy!
Red Rock is connecting with several chops to the Irishman, the crowd ”woo!”ing along with him. A right hand goes wild however and Paddy ties him up in a waistlock, looking to take him down. Red Rock rushes forward at the ropes, bringing Paddy with him and is then utterly surprised when O'Malec comes flying from nowhere with a spinning heel kick from the 2nd rope, impacting heavily. Red Rock crumbles but keeps moving with Paddy's momentum into the turnbuckle, a sickening crunch heard as his back is crushed between the turnbuckle and Paddy.
George Cassidy: I hope that hurt.
Truth Waters: Speaking from experience...it did.
Paddy stands up to celebrate but suddenly is tumbling to the mat, arms flailing in the air as O'Malec looks to roll him up for a quick victory. Larsson is right on the spot to hit the mat.
ONE!
TWO!
But nothing more, Paddy is able to regain his instincts just in time to kick out and scramble to his feet. O'Malec has left him no time and rocks him with wild lefts and rights, pushing him into the ropes and then whipping him hard off them. Paddy is quick to reverse, O'Malec more than able to respond to this. He flies into the ropes and looks surprised when he sees Red Rock and Paddy waiting for him. Without knowing Red Rock is behind him, Paddy picks up O'Malec for a flapjack and Red Rock adds to the pain as by locking Crimson's head and twisting in a neckbreaker fashion, making it look excruciating.
Truth Waters: O'Malec is dead after that one for sure!
George Cassidy: He's getting up... the stupid Irish git.
Truth Waters: One has to wonder how long these guys can go for after having already been in one hell of a Three Way Trio Tag match earlier in the night. They're giving their all but I just have this feeling this cannot last.
Lars Larsson goes to check on Crimson as soon as he can, talking with him quickly, making sure the other two stay away from him. This he has no problem doing simply because Red Rock and Paddy already have each other in a tie up, Paddy leading with a kick to the guts and DDTing Red Rock to the canvas. Outside Boolie is banging the canvas to try and will Red Rock into getting up sooner, rather than later.
Truth Waters: O'Malec is refusing to stop wrestling. I don't know about this...
O'Malec is holding his head and looks around before holding a fist into the air and saluting the crowd, letting them know he's ok. He sees Red Rock reeling against the ropes, taking a shot from Paddy who now pulls back to invoke the power of...well whomever he believes in, allowing the avenue for O'Malec. Crimson with little thought rushes right at Red Rock going for a corkscrew splash...
Truth Waters: Oh no!
...And missing completely.
George Cassidy: Fuck!
Crimson O'Malec sails right over the top rope, pulled back by Red Rock and twists wildly in the air, realising how much he's missed. He's too late to do anything about it though. He crashes right onto the corner of the announce table, his neck the first to take the impact of the table and then to add further torment to O'Malec he lands neck first on the ground, presenting a horrible image on by the table.
”HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”
Truth Waters immediately is up and out of his chair and Cassidy looks too shocked to do anything. Waters checks on O'Malec and it's clear from his reaction that Crimson is hurt badly. He's waving frantically for attention to be paid to O'Malec and in a sign of utmost sportsmanship, Boolie, forgetting his friend is still in the match, has rushed over to do whatever he can.
Meanwhile in the ring Paddy looks at Red Rock who is looking so shocked and appalled at what has just happened has clearly lost any appetite for the match. Paddy's face goes a darker shade of red and the blood is boiling from his very veins. Paddy lashes out violently at Red Rock and gives him one of the most powerful kicks to the gonads he'll probably ever do. Grabbing him swiftly he plants Red Rock on the turnbuckle and lifts him off with the Top o’ The Morning! The cover is elementary.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
'Raggle Taggle Gypsy' hits the PA again and the crowd is still unmistakeably quiet, looking over at O'Malec who's lying awkwardly still, everyone unwilling to move him for fear of aggravating the injury. Paddy rolls out of the ring and freezes on seeing O’Malec again, realising the nature of what he did to ignore it and make the fall. Unsure of what to do, he starts to walk slowly up the ramp; this turns into a jog as O’Shea just wants to get away from this – and maybe himself – as soon as he can.
George Cassidy: Folks, I… I don’t know what to say. This is… terrible. Crimson O’Malec is looking bad.
Waters waves vigorously for the medical team; Jin Osaka, Dr Steven Burns and Matt Matthews eventually burst through the curtain. Matthews trips over his lab-coat tails, but Burns and Osaka hurry over to the small frame of O’Malec, security men Bruno Hague and Butch Radder bringing a stretcher out.
George Cassidy: How’s he looking?
Truth Waters: Not good. Really not good. What happened with the match? No contest?
George Cassidy: Paddy made the fall…
Truth Waters: SERIOUSLY?
George Cassidy: This isn’t really the time for jokes…
Truth Waters: Oh my. A lot’s been going on in O’Shea’s life lately, but I’d’ve thought a major injury to his partner would be more than enough to distract him from competiton…
George Cassidy: Apparently a chance at the Transatlantic title is more important to him.
Truth Waters: It’s been Hate, Mike Wade, everything, screwing his brain up…
George Cassidy: Don’t make his excuses.
Pyramid Scramble
MIKE WADE VS JAMES VARGA THE HANDLER VS THE FARMER VS ALEXA KENDERICKS VS CHAINZ VS TITAN
STIPULATION: PYRAMID SCRAMBLE
REFEREES: JOSEPH REID, LARS LARSSON, AARON DAVIES, MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
There is now a short interval, during which the ring announcer informs the crowd that refreshments have had their prices cut in two for five minutes only. Unsurprisingly, there is a mad rush for the refreshments stalls, which is just the distraction the ring crew need as they make sure the ring is winched quickly and efficiently out of the way, to be replaced by a giant pyramid-shaped structure that descends slowly from the ceiling. It is far from uniform. One side of the pyramid is a series of small steps leading up to the top, which is sectioned off to leave a small flat top platform of about 2m2. Two of the other sides are uniform flat surfaces, but one has two ladders affixed tight against the surface leading side by side to the top platform, and the other two ropes attached at the top and hanging loosely. The fourth side initially looks flat too, but on closer inspection one can see grooves and slots from which blocks can seemingly be extruded.
The structure itself is constructed of wood, or at least has a wood veneer on the surface, with stronger iron running down each edge to hold it together – the base and the flat top also have an iron floor.
As the structure comes down into place, taking up about the same space as the normal ring did in the extended (for the Triangles structure) ringside area that we have tonight, members of the ring crew rush to pull out locks from the floor. These are then clamped over the bottom part of the pyramid, making sure it is firmly in place for the match.
There is a small cheer from the crowd as Mike Wade now comes through the curtain; there is no music or lighting since the break is still on and the majority of pay-per-view providers are using this time to shill upcoming events at rip-off prices. He approaches the pyramid, where he searches out ring announcer James Brunt. His body language indicates he hasn’t a clue what to do; Brunt tells him to climb the steps to the top. With an incredulous look on his face, Wade does as he’s told, slinging his Relentless championship belt over his shoulder as he storms up the steps, probably wondering what the hell this is all about, and taking his position standing tall at the top of the pyramid, feeling rather silly. To kill the time, he scans the crowd, pointing out the Mike Wade signs – a thumbs-down to one deriding him and his partner Adam Dick; a gleeful round of applause for one female whose sign reads “I WANT YOUR BABIES MIKE!”.
A member of the ring crew now hops up the steps towards Wade, dragging a barrel after him. The heavy barrel bangs against each wooden step as he goes, knocking chunks out of the beautifully-finished structure. His lack of care indicates that we probably won’t be seeing the pyramid again after tonight. Or perhaps we won’t see this particular ring crew member after tonight...
He reaches the last few steps; seeing that there’s no room for him to stand at the top alongside Wade he stops there and removes the lid of the barrel, which had evidently already been opened. His muscles straining, he tips the barrel towards the side of the pyramid with the ladders on, and lets a liberal amount of the oil within slip out, running viscously down the wooden surface, darkening it. He makes sure the oil is roughly distributed across that side of the pyramid before turning to its opposite side and pouring out the rest of the oil here. He then carries the empty barrel back down the steps with him.
A loud beep is heard, and suddenly barricades of varying size pop up from the grooves in the second side of the pyramid that is slathered in oil. There are four of them, each shining with the petroleum that covers it. After a short while, one of the middle ones suddenly shoots down again, and back up two seconds later. Just after this, the top hurdle drops back into the side of the pyramid, and the bottom one follows suit; they spring back up together three seconds later. The barriers continue to pop up and down as our focus moves to the entrance-way.
The five other contestants scheduled for this match are The Farmer, Chainz, Titan, James Varga the Handler and the one female, Alexa Kendericks. They move onto the stage now, standing evenly spaced where stage meets ramp-way, awaiting further instruction. Chainz winks at Kendericks, who looks away coldly, while The Farmer stares stolidly at the pyramid ahead, refusing to acknowledge the fans or listen to the mixed noises being made about him.
Finally, ring announcer James Brunt gets a signal, and taking their cue, the crowd cheer. Triangles is back.
George Cassidy: Welcome back, and after that lengthy and pointless lull in the proceedings, we’re all set to begin with the Pyramid Scramble match!
Truth Waters: A lot’s gone on in the break, so let me just summarise before James Brunt takes centre stage to explain the rules; the flat-pack ring has been winched away to be replaced by this wooden “pyramid” structure, and Mike Wade, the Relentless champion, has been instructed to stand at the top on the small flat platform with his belt. Each side of the pyramid appears to have a different barrier to progress, except the one with steps, which looks startlingly easier to climb...
Just as the words leave Waters’ mouth, two members of AWC’s security team, Butch Radder and Taz Yorke, step up, moving halfway up the side of the pyramid that has steps on before turning round to face the stage, looking menacing. James Varga the Handler, dwarfed by the others around him, shoots a panicked sideways glance at Alexa Kendericks, who ignores him.
George Cassidy: There’s your obstacle! So I'm guessing the idea of the match is to get up to the top of the pyramid, where Mike Wade is waiting with the title belt...
Truth Waters: There’s no point in speculating; I think James Brunt is just about to tell us! The competitors haven’t been told either, judging by the expressions on their faces.
But before he can do this, Wade suddenly clatters down the steps, brushing between the two security men and rushing over to the barricade, his eyes lit up with some kind of idea. He quickly negotiates with one of the fans, ignoring the hecklers, and something small and shiny is passed into his hand.
Truth Waters: What is this? Wade playing dirty already?
Michael Ryan storms over, demanding to see what has been passed to Mike Wade, but Wade quickly stuffs the object down the front of his tights. He then stands, thrusting his hips outwards, challenging the Senior Referee to have a check. Ryan shrugs.
George Cassidy: There’s no disqualification anyway; His Swerviness can use whatever swervy objects he chooses!
Wade jogs back up the steps to the top of the pyramid, picking up the title belt from where he left it and buckling it self-importantly around his waist. Michael Ryan watches him with a frown as he comes to sit at the announcers’ table.
Truth Waters: Well hello Mr Ryan! What a pleasure it is.
Michael Ryan: Naturally, Truth, the pleasure’s all mine...
The referee bends over the announce table to rest his head in his hands, watching the champion keenly.
George Cassidy: Uh, if you don’t mind me being so blunt, what are you doing?
Michael Ryan: Oh, but I do mind...
Ryan winks at Waters.
Truth Waters: Guess you’ll just have to wait and see, Cassidy.
James Brunt: Ladies and gentlemen! The following is the Pyramid Scramble match! Without further ado, let me explain to you the rules – but first, introducing the challengers, on the stage: ALEXA KENDERICKS! THE FARMER! CHAINZ! JAMES VARGA THE HANDLER! And... TITAN! And the champion, at the top of the pyramid... MIKE WADE!
Wade gives the ring announcer, who stands where the ringside area joins the ramp-way, a salute, ignoring the boos raining down on him.
Truth Waters: Wade’s enjoying that lofty position on top of the pyramid.
James Brunt: Could I now invite the challengers to join me at ringside!
George Cassidy: Yes, yes you could.
Truth Waters: No he couldn’t. If there ain’t no ring, there ain’t no ringside.
Varga looks around curiously, not having a clue what to do; Chainz strides forward confidently, and the rest follow. As they do so, referees Joseph Reid, Aaron Davies and Lars Larsson appear behind them.
Truth Waters: Extra law enforcement?
Michael Ryan: Four referees might not be necessary, but it covers our bases.
George Cassidy: Like you ever got past first.
James Brunt: Introducing the referees for this match...
George Cassidy: “Without further ado”...?!
James Brunt: ...in the floor area, Joseph Reid, Aaron Davies and Lars Larsson! At the announcers’ table, the title change adjudicator Michael Ryan!
Truth Waters: Title change adjudicator?
Michael Ryan: Oh yes, Truth.
George Cassidy: We’re not gonna have one of those crazy clusters with multiple belt changes that completely devalue the title, are we?
Ryan smiles.
Michael Ryan: I'm afraid not. One championship change, maximum.
George Cassidy: That’s a relief.
Brunt waits for the five challengers to form a semi-circle around him – Kendericks and Chainz are both sneering at his ridiculous suit – before going on.
James Brunt: There is a TEN MINUTE TIME LIMIT on this match!
George Cassidy: So it’s over with quickly; good news.
James Brunt: There are two ways of going about this match for the challengers!
George Cassidy: God, here we go...
James Brunt: One: they can aim to become the new AWC Relentless champion, by mounting the pyramid and securing the title belt from the grasp of Mike Wade!
Wade raises his eyebrows, unimpressed.
Truth Waters: Who’s gonna choose anything other than going for the belt?
Michael Ryan: That pyramid is hard to get up, let me tell you. And once you’re near the top, you’ve got no base from which to attack Wade. He’s got a belt to hit you with and a flat surface.
James Brunt: Two: they can aim to become the new number one contender to the AWC Relentless championship, by scoring the most falls in the time limit in the floor area!
George Cassidy: So they’re fighting against each other for ten minutes at the bottom of the pyramid?
Michael Ryan: Not quite accurate...
James Brunt: THE MATCH WILL END either when the time limit has expired, or when a new Relentless champion is crowned! At this point, the number of falls per challenger will be tallied and a new contender to the title will be declared! The new contender will receive a title shot in a GIMMICK MATCH OF HIS OR HER CHOICE at AWC’s next pay-per-view extravaganza on Friday December 23rd!
The crowd pops, though they really would like to see some action soon.
Truth Waters: Christmas show, mm?
George Cassidy: We’d better be getting double pay for that.
Michael Ryan: ...It’s not even on a public holiday.
James Brunt: FALLS WILL COUNT ANYWHERE! And now, can I ask Bruno Hague to BRING OUT THE WEAPONS!
A huge black trolley appears in the entrance-way. After a few seconds, Bruno Hague, the head of security for AWC, is visible behind it, wheeling it into position. He stops in the centre of the stage and nods to Brunt before heading backstage once more. The competitors turn as one to look across the ramp-way at it; The Farmer nods his head. James Varga the Handler looks positively petrified.
James Brunt: Can we have the clock, please!
The video screen suddenly flicks on with the fixed time 10:00 displayed on it. Brunt then looks across to Michael Ryan at the announce table, who gives the thumbs-up. He turns to cast an eye at Mike Wade, and then glances at the competitors. All seem ready. Brunt nods.
James Brunt: BEGIN!
The bell rings, and immediately the countdown timer begins:
09:59
09:58
09:57
Michael Ryan: Here we go.
Truth Waters: SCRAMBLE!
Kendericks takes one look at Radder and Yorke and sprints up the steps, throwing herself down as she looks to dive between them. Radder drops with surprisingly agility to drop a forearm across the back of her neck, immobilising Kendericks in an instant. Yorke then knees her hard in the lower back, and Radder grabs her by the back of her ring attire to with both hands toss her unceremoniously down the steps. She hits the third from bottom and rolls the rest of the way down to the floor.
Truth Waters: Alexa Kendericks went for the direct route and paid for it!
George Cassidy: That’ll serve as a test run for the other competitors fancying their chances against AWC’s security staff.
Chainz and Titan are brawling, fists flying thick and fast as they inadvertently work their way up the ramp. Very well matched in terms of height and weight, neither can gain a clear advantage, though with the next punch Michael Sloan bursts Titan’s lip, sending a rainbow of blood from his mouth as he staggers backwards. Looking to take advantage, Chainz moves in, but Titan gets himself out of a sticky situation by charging at Chainz, grabbing him around the midsection to run him back into the barricade. The fans in the first few rows by the ramp-way whoop and cheer, waving to the cameras. One pours his beer over Chainz; he shakes his head angrily and takes it out on Titan with a rising knee.
George Cassidy: A visceral encounter is this Chainz/Titan fight.
Truth Waters: That’s how they play it on the streets.
That leaves The Farmer and James Varga the Handler; Varga melted out of Farmer’s tentative initial grapple, the unfortunate 130 pounder running as fast as his legs will carry him away from the action and over the security barrier into the crowd. There is an immediate low, sustained cheer as the crowd, a small pocket of whom absolutely hate Varga and anything to do with him, herald his unlucky arrival into their section of the FedEx Forum. The Handler goes down under the assault of a thousand fists, a certain “Sir” Mat Waters managing to smash a framed photograph of PRIME sensation Karina Wolfenden over his head.
George Cassidy: Varga can’t face it!
Truth Waters: Define “pussy” for me, please! Vaulting the barricade into the crowd before even giving the match a chance!
Michael Ryan: If I get one of my referees over there we could have a new #1 contender from amongst the fans...
George Cassidy: Yeah, d-
Michael Ryan: It was a joke.
Truth Waters: You should do this more often, Ryan. You’ve got the right attitude. Just throw insults at Cassidy. He’s thick-skinned... right Cassidy? Cassidy?
George Cassidy: (sobs)
The Farmer swoops down on Alexa Kendericks, rolling her onto the back at the bottom of the steps to look for an early cover. Joseph Reid gets over as quickly as possible.
ONE!
TW-
She kicks out at two.
Truth Waters: Kendericks kicks out of Mickey Fitz-McCarthy’s early pinfall, following her beat-down by the security guys.
Mike Wade rolls his eyes, smoking an imaginary cigarette as he overlooks the proceedings with little interest.
George Cassidy: Wade doesn’t actually have to do a hell of a lot, does he?
Chainz gets back to a vertical position, shaking the beer out of his eyes as he slugs Titan with a left hand. Grabbing the 6’6”-er (one inch taller than Chainz) by the head, he pulls him back to the barricade and slams his head into it, but Sloan gets another beer over the head for his trouble. Enraged, he snarls at the fan he assumes is responsible, but it looks like he assumed wrong.
Truth Waters: IT WASN’T NANA’S FAULT!
Realising his mistake, Chainz turns away, embarrassed, and this gives Titan the chance to grab him in a scoop slam.
George Cassidy: Scoop slam by Titan, Chainz hitting the ramp hard.
The Farmer now rushes over, taking out Titan with a face crusher!
Truth Waters: There’s The Farmer getting in on the action!
George Cassidy: Slammed Titan’s head into the steel ramp!
Once more, The Farmer looks for an early fall, reverse scooping both Titan’s legs as Lars Larsson, who is standing by, drops down to their level.
ONE!
TWO!
Truth Waters: Titan throws him off easily.
George Cassidy: The Farmer seems keen for an early pin.
Truth Waters: He’s playing for the rules right from the start. Chainz and Titan might have just been up for a brawl but that’s a timely reminder from Fitz that they’re on a countdown here.
08:07
08:06
08:05
Michael Ryan: Nearly a fifth of the match time gone without a fall.
Chainz and The Farmer both get to their feet. Sloan gives Farmer a testing glare as he walks away from him, making his way towards the huge trolley full of weapons at the top of the ramp. Fitz-McCarthy shrugs, turning back to Titan and stomping on his back as he tries to rise.
Truth Waters: Chainz heads over to the weapons bin... I don’t know how he’s actually going to get anything out of there. That thing is immense.
Alexa Kendericks still has her sights set on Mike Wade, who has been taunting her from the top of the pyramid. She backs away before taking a run at the side with the rising and falling barriers, managing to tumble up and over the first barrier before resting against it as she tries to work out how to contend with the slippery surface. The hurdle suddenly falls away, though, and Kendericks finds herself sliding back down the pyramid, covered in oil, as she rolls onto her front at the bottom to jeers from the fans.
Truth Waters: Alexa Kendericks giving the pyramid a go with little success.
George Cassidy: This is more like a daytime TV game show than a wrestling match!
Michael Ryan: Her plan was to use those barriers as ledges on which to rest, but she’d reckoned without them suddenly dropping out on her without warning.
George Cassidy: Yeah, we could see that for ourselves thanks, Mr Expert.
The Farmer storms over, instinctively grabbing something held out to him by a front row fan as he passes. He looks at it.
Truth Waters: That’s... a spray can, I think... The Farmer being passed a weapon to use by one of the fans.
George Cassidy: They’re treating this like the very successful “Fans Bring The Weapons” match between Hate and Paddy O’Shea at Primetime Central’s enormous Super Series.
Truth Waters: PTC is a hive of activity right now, with the GTT5 tournament right around the corner. Word on the street is that there are six confirmed AWC representatives among the 128 entrants!
George Cassidy: I hope Jack Murphy went for it... he could take that tournament...
Truth Waters: Come on, be realistic, he’s barely established in AWC. He can’t compete with names like Angelo Deville, formerly of PRIME, GCW’s Seymour Almasy and last year’s winner, the free agent superstar, Doctor Curiosity.
George Cassidy: And how do you know any of those will even enter?
Truth Waters: That’s a fair point; everything is speculation right now, folks.
Farmer points the spray can into Kendericks’ face as she runs at him, pressing the nozzle to eject a dark substance. Kendericks gasps, spitting out liberal quantities of black paint, and The Farmer is able to hit her with an uncontested Searing DDT!
George Cassidy: SEARING DDT!
Truth Waters: The Farmer’s finisher out of nowhere!
Michael Ryan: Having paint sprayed into her face at high velocity disorientated Alexa Kendericks a little, strangely enough.
The Farmer rolls over Kendericks’ limp body into a cover, which Joseph Reid pushes past the hesitant Aaron Davies to take.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: First blood to The Farmer!
George Cassidy: No way was she going to kick out of that. Searing DDT on the floor at ringside – oh, I guess we can’t call it ringside seeing as there’s no ring...
James Brunt: The first fall goes to THE FARMER!
Some fans cheer, some boo; no one really knows whose side the elusive Mickey Fitz is on. He doesn’t celebrate getting the first fall; his only action is to glance at the countdown clock on the screen, which reads 06:49.
George Cassidy: Time is going quickly.
Truth Waters: Let’s hope the vickiblackwell.com timer that Hyde is using to write this match by is accurate, or someone might feel screwed over.
Seeing Titan ambling over to take on Chainz by the weapons bin, Farmer decides he might as well have a go at the big prize. Planting his foot on the first rung of the right-hand ladder, he carefully bends to take the sides of the ladder in his hands, trying to wipe off the excess grease that could cause him to slip. Pushing firmly against the bottom rung, he now advances cautiously up the ladder, Wade making a “come and get me” motion.
George Cassidy: The Farmer’s climbing the ladder, looking for his chance at wresting the title belt away from Mike Wade.
There is a tense moment halfway up the structure, as Fitz’s foot slips on a rung, but he manages to hold on, and with the ladder bolted into the wood, the ladder holds still.
Truth Waters: I think The Farmer’s proving here that the ladders are perhaps the easiest path to championship in this match.
Meanwhile, over on the stage, Chainz and Titan have collaboratively turned the trolley on its side, having found no other way to actually access the weapons within its high black plastic walls. They jump away as it falls, its contents skittling everywhere – and just by chance, a skittle itself falls at Titan’s feet. He picks it up on impulse and swings hard at Chainz; there is a CLUNK but Chainz seems more than anything offended that Titan would think a skittle could take him down. Knocking Titan’s arm away with a karate-influenced chop, he picks up a broom and jabs it into Titan’s stomach. Titan jumps back, trying to pull the broom out of Chainz’ grip, but the end comes off and Titan looks at the brush portion of the broom in his hands in surprise. A second later, the broom handle breaks over his head after a harsh swing from Michael Sloan. Titan holds his ground, lobbing the brush at Chainz; he ducks it and jabs the remainder of the broom-handle into Titan’s abdomen once more. Titan’s hands fall to grab hold of it and Chainz lets go, his plan falling into place with Titan having dropped his guard; Sloan can now swing round, grab a car bumper and slam it against the side of his opponent’s skull.
George Cassidy: Chainz and Titan are using anything and everything they can get their hands on.
Truth Waters: They might be better off with their fists, judging from the effectiveness – or otherwise – of these first few weapons. I think I spy a roll of barbed wire, though...
05:48
05:47
The Farmer reaches the top of the ladder, and just as he prepares a dive at Wade’s legs, the Relentless champion almost lazily kicks him in the head. Unfazed, The Farmer attempts to stand, but this just allows Wade to take a full swing with his title belt, braining Fitz-McCarthy. The Farmer falls sideways onto the oily wooden surface between the ladder and slides pathetically to the floor, landing in a heap. Kendericks is on him immediately, the black ink on her face now mixing in with all the oil and grease covering them.
George Cassidy: Kendericks must like getting dirty; she’s very... ah... lubricated.
Hooking the leg, Kendericks looks around and Aaron Davies hops over gleefully to count the fall.
ONE!
TWO!
Farmer kicks out.
Michael Ryan: Kendericks went for revenge on The Farmer who still holds the only pinfall of this match.
Chainz moves close to lock up with Titan, following up the car bumper shot, but Titan comes out with a rising uppercut, causing Sloan to spin around, putting a hand to his lip. Seeing a sudden opportunity for his finisher with Chainz’ back turned, Titan grabs him looking for the Titan Buster, but Chainz immediately spins out into a swinging neckbreaker position. Instead of landing the neckbreaker, though, Chainz gives Titan two alternate knees to the face and then pulls him in between his legs. He then looks out at the fans by the ramp, wide-eyed.
Truth Waters: Looks like the 293 pound Titan is going for a ride!
With great strength, Chainz pulls Titan up onto his shoulders, slamming him down onto the steel ramp with a punishing powerbomb – but he’s not done yet. Drawing on more energy reserves, Sloan lifts Titan high from the same position and comes down with a second consecutive powerbomb!
George Cassidy: That’s the Chain Reaction! On the steel ramp-way!
Truth Waters: RAR~!
Chainz falls heavily onto Titan for the lateral press; Lars Larsson, who has been tracking the pair, is on hand to immediately complete the formality.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: Chainz levels it up with Farmer!
Larsson turns away, signalling to Brunt, but Chainz isn’t done yet, as he impatiently lets the referee know.
Michael Ryan: He wants a second consecutive pin; that’s smart.
Truth Waters: After two powerbombs out on the ramp, Titan ain’t kicking out.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: I don’t believe it!
Truth Waters: Two falls in a row for Chainz, as Titan offers no resistance!
Nodding, Larsson stands and makes the signal to the ring announcer to call the two falls for Chainz.
Meanwhile, The Farmer hits the ladders again, but this time Alexa Kendericks joins him, taking the twin ladder to his left. The dextrous female takes to the task quicker than The Farmer, and before long she’s halfway there, but there is a sudden rush of movement and Mike Wade comes sliding down the greasy ladder to take her out with a baseball slide! The two slide down the ladder at speed to land untidily at the bottom. The Farmer looks on in confusion, unsure whether to continue climbing.
George Cassidy: Take-out by Mike Wade!
Truth Waters: Can he do that?
Michael Ryan stands up from his seat, angrily ordering Wade to get up and back to his position at the pyramid’s apex. Wade picks himself up, and then, grinning, shakes his head.
George Cassidy: They can’t make him go back! He’s Mike Wade, he does what he likes!
Truth Waters: I can’t believe they didn’t consider this before making the match.
James Brunt: The second and third f-
Brunt breaks off – because Chainz has again yelled an instruction to referee Lars Larsson.
Truth Waters: Again?
George Cassidy: There is no way...
Michael Ryan: Oh, there’s a way. You try taking two powerbombs on the ramp-way.
Truth Waters: Pfft. Pussyworthy.
But Lars Larsson’s count is made once more, and fans look on with interest as the powerful Chainz tries to assert what might be an unassailable hold on this match-up.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: Incredible! Three straight pins!
James Brunt: The second, third and fourth falls go to CHAINZ! And the champion must return to the top of the pyramid immediately or he will be stripped of his title!
Wade raises his eyebrows, his forehead, wrinkled despite his youth, now grimy from his tumble with Kendericks. He wearily walks round to the side of the pyramid with steps, the security staff parting reluctantly to let him through, but suddenly Alexa Kendericks pops up behind him with a high kick to the head!
George Cassidy: Kendericks! Like she was invisible or something!
Wade falls flat on his face, the Relentless championship belt dropping onto the step up from him, but Kendericks is at once intercepted by Butch Radder, who grabs her around the neck with both hands.
Truth Waters: No mercy shown by Butch Radder.
He throws her with all his strength, Kendericks floundering in the air but hitting the ground with a graceful backward roll off the final step to come to her feet, garnering a little applause from the crowd.
George Cassidy: Athleticism second to none.
Titan and Chainz are now engaged in another brawl by the weapons trolley, Titan grabbing the infamous baking tray and denting it over Chainz’ head. There is no effect. Tiring of the spectacle, Chainz shoots out two hands to grab Titan around the neck. With a roar and a ripple of his muscles, he lifts the 6’6” powerhouse ten inches off the ground and slams him down to the steel ramp with a two-handed choke slam.
Truth Waters: Chainz with a more punishing version of what Butch Radder did to Kendericks...
Wade scrambles to his feet, grabbing the belt and rushing to the top of the structure – to meet The Farmer, who grins before punching him in the face. Wade grins back, and kicks him squarely in the REGIONS~!.
George Cassidy: That was certainly not inadvertent.
Michael Ryan: Advertent, then?
Truth Waters: History between these two in the whole Eire Og “Who’s on whose side?” debacle... Farmer could be seconds from becoming champion.
Michael Ryan: And if he manages to end it now, Chainz qualifies as number one contender, remember. He leads, three falls to Farmer’s one; Titan and Kendericks don’t have any at all.
George Cassidy: And Varga... well...
The camera cuts away to show a section of the crowd engaged in gang Varga-beating.
Truth Waters: Yeah.
Mickey Fitz bends forward, the pain showing in his face as his mouth forms a long “o”. Wade savagely clotheslines him, and The Farmer’s arms swing wildly as he loses his balance on the edge of the platform. Tripping backwards onto the ladder he climbed, he sticks his right leg back to try and keep his balance. That’s a big mistake. It catches between two of the rungs, and as his momentum carries him backwards, he just can’t dislodge it. With a sickening inevitability, The Farmer’s leg breaks, the CRACK echoing all around the arena to mutterings of worry from the crowd.
Michael Ryan: Oh my God.
George Cassidy: That angle is not natural.
Farmer hangs inverted along the ladder, his leg still caught up between the rungs with a bend where there definitely shouldn’t be a bend midway up his shin. He lets out a loud scream of anguish, and Aaron Davies hurries towards the ladder. Doffing his headset, Michael Ryan does the same.
Truth Waters: Folks, The Farmer appears to have broken his leg.
George Cassidy: Apologies – don’t watch.
Truth Waters: Cassidy, they aren’t all pussies like yourself. I think that spells the end of the road for The Farmer in this match – and he could be out of AWC entirely for a good while.
George Cassidy: He’ll have to hope it’s a clean break. If so, recovery can be as quick as two months or even less. But if the break’s dirty... that could be a career-ender, you know.
Aaron Davies cautiously mounts the ladder, but as he slips, twisting his ankle, Ryan brushes him aside to climb up expertly himself. Clinging onto Farmer’s upper body for support, he gently draws the leg out of the ladder, being as careful as he can, but that doesn’t stop Mickey Fitz-McCarthy from screaming again.
Truth Waters: This looks serious.
Pushing past the weapons trolley, Jin Osaka sprints down to the ring as fast as her middle-aged legs will carry her, Matt Matthews following with a stretcher.
George Cassidy: We’ve had more than half our time here already...
03:49
03:48
03:47
Truth Waters: Titan and Kendericks need to get a move on if they want a hope of winning the contendership. With Farmer out of the picture Chainz leads three falls to none.
Abandoning his war with Titan, Chainz comes storming down the ramp. Meanwhile, at the pyramid, Mike Wade is staring down at The Farmer, no expression on his face as his fellow Irishman is gently lifted onto the stretcher. Alexa Kendericks, now practically unrecognisable from all the oil and ink, has grabbed a rope, and is using an abseiling-style technique to work her way up.
Truth Waters: Edging each foot forward a little at a time Alexa Kendericks is pulling herself towards the title.
George Cassidy: She could really use a bath...
Unable to drag his eyes off the scene of the injured Mickey Fitz, His Swerviness is oblivious to Kendericks’ accelerating progress up the adjacent side of the structure. Only when she is three-quarters of the way up does he catch a motion out of the corner of his eye and turn with bloodlust in his eyes. Knowing she only has a second before Wade sends her back to the bottom using gravity to help him out, Alexa gives the rope a sharp tug as she pushes off the wooden surface with her feet.
Truth Waters: Cross body! Don’t know how she worked that!
Wade’s eyes widen as he sees Kendericks somehow flying horizontally towards him; dropping his title belt by her feet, he catches her in his arms. A backbreaker puts paid to any resistance from the 125-pounder, but as he shifts his foot, His Swerviness accidentally knocks the championship title belt. It almost comes to a halt at the peak of the slope with the ladders... and then, crushingly, starts to slide down, the oil on the wood easing its path.
George Cassidy: Uh-oh! Wade’s title’s running away from him!
Tossing Kendericks indifferently onto the side of the pyramid she came from, Wade dives for his belt; he doesn’t reach it and goes sliding down the ladder, head-first. The belt makes it all the way down, knocking at the door of The Farmer’s stretcher at the bottom – and a moment later, Wade catapults into it too.
The Farmer: AAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHH!
Truth Waters: Wade may have just made things ten times worse for The Farmer!
George Cassidy: More importantly, where’s the title belt gone?
Nurse Matt Matthews has it! Picking it up, he shrugs: “Does this belong to anyone?” appears to be the message from the clueless medic. Chainz suddenly charges in with an unnecessarily violent spear, knocking the male nurse down and back skidding several yards along the floor. Matthews drops the title belt, and Wade goes for it, but Jin Osaka steps into his path to wag a finger in his face.
Truth Waters: Nurse Osaka not too ecstatic about what Wade’s done to her patient!
George Cassidy: Chainz was very nearly the new champion there! If he’d calmly claimed the belt instead of trying to obliterate Matt Matthews things might’ve gone his way...
Realising Matthews no longer has the belt, Chainz spins around to look for it, eagle-eyed, but right as he locates it Wade finally falls on it and cradles it to his chest. Chainz rushes over and begins stomping hard on the back of His Swerviness, but suddenly a lava lamp shatters across the back of his head.
Truth Waters: TITAN!
George Cassidy: A shot with a LAVA LAMP!
02:57
Sloan falls across Wade, presumably knocked out by the impact. The lamp, the glass of which shattered over Chainz’ head, is dropped by Titan, who instead of going for Wade, rolls Chainz off him and hooks his leg. Wade quickly ducks out and runs once more up the steps to the pyramid platform, Radder and Yorke now looking distinctly irked at having to let him through; they like to hurt people.
ONE!
TWO!
The cover is suddenly broken by Alexa Kendericks, her unnecessarily athletic senton splash pausing Titan’s attempt at his first fall. A savage kick to the ribs gets rid of the lumbering 293 pounder, and Kendericks is now the one to hook the leg of Michael “Chainz” Sloan:
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: PINFALL!
George Cassidy: But... but... WHY didn’t Titan take the belt from Wade?
Truth Waters: I don’t think he KNEW what was going on... he’d come after Chainz, continuing their little battle!
James Brunt: The fifth fall goes to ALEXA KENDERICKS!
02:39
George Cassidy: She needs another two to have any chance of challenging Chainz.
But it doesn’t look like the contendership is Kendericks’ primary objective; grabbing the shattered lava lamp, she marches determinedly over to the side she tried initially, with the hurdles that tend to drop away on a whim. She tosses the lava lamp up the slope; it lodges just behind the uppermost fence. Setting herself, Kendericks then runs at the bottom of the slope, moving into a cartwheel just as she reaches it. Coming down with a twist to face outwards as she bends over the first barricade, she flips backwards, grabbing the top of the next hurdle with her hands and springing off. Another twist means she comes down just short of the third block; she scrabbles desperately at it as her feet begin to slip. Unfortunately, this barricade chooses this moment to suddenly slam down, and Kendericks slips back to the second one, falling forwards onto her hands and knees. Not giving up, she pushes off the fence determinedly, shooting up the slope and grabbing onto the top of the final fence. She quickly pulls her body up and rolls over this last barrier, and grasping the lava lamp in one hand, plants her feet on the final block...
Truth Waters: Impressive work!
George Cassidy: Straight out of The Matrix... but without computers.
...and leaps off, smashing the shattered lamp into Wade’s face as she hits the platform! Wade steps back, temporarily blinded as a cut is ripped in his forehead. He hits out, catching Kendericks in the head with a forearm thrust by luck as much as anything, and she staggers back, teetering over the edge, but somehow contorts her body to remain on the small platform. Swinging round, she hits Wade with a roundhouse kick; a follow-up rainbow kick is knocked away by a forearm.
Truth Waters: One wrong move means a title change up here... it’s high tension on that tiny platform between Wade and Kendericks!
02:12
Wade suddenly launches in with a big knee to the abdomen, seeming to wind Kendericks as she drops the broken lamp. Ignoring the blood dripping freely from his forehead, Wade locks up in a vertical suplex position, and easily lifts the lightweight female overhead to suplex her off the platform entirely and onto one of the ladders! She yells in pain as her back clatters against the metal; a moment later she’s sliding down at high speed to land with a bump at the bottom.
George Cassidy: Suplex onto the ladder!
Truth Waters: Wade cleans house.
Chainz and Titan are at it again, brawling close to the barricade, Chainz enraged at the dark sticky blood matting at the back of his head and looking to take things out on Titan. At the sight of Kendericks felled at the base of the pyramid, though, Chainz leaves Titan floored with a sudden clothesline.
Truth Waters: I'm getting the impression Chainz was holding himself back a little before if he could pull out the clothesline just like that...
Chainz gets down to floor level and applies the lateral press.
Truth Waters: To put this beyond doubt...
ONE!
But then Chainz pulls away. He’s got something better up his sleeve.
George Cassidy: What the...
Sharpshooter.
Truth Waters: That the.
01:51
George Cassidy: Less than two minutes remain and Chainz has Kendericks locked in a sharpshooter by the pyramid’s base!
Truth Waters: She’s gritting her teeth and wants to wait this one out...
George Cassidy: Is that sensible? Why not tap, take the fall, and give herself time to recover with some quick pins of her own?
Truth Waters: Think about pride, Cassidy... Alexa Kendericks is one tough cookie. She ain’t gonna tap.
Indeed, it doesn’t look that way; although in intense pain, Kendericks seem to be accepting the pain, allowing her face to pale as she takes the pressure to her legs and back. Over at the security wall, Titan is dragging himself up, being derided by the fans.
George Cassidy: Titan doesn’t exactly have the biggest fan base in these parts.
Truth Waters: Possibly because he doesn’t actually do a hell of a lot.
01:36
At the top of the pyramid, Wade sits cross-legged, looking indifferent to everything going on around him but really he has one eye on proceedings; the other is occupied in dabbing at his wound, wincing a little as he experiments applying pressure to the deep cut from the glass of the lava lamp.
George Cassidy: That wound of Wade’s looks nasty.
Truth Waters: Yeah, but it’s nothing in comparison to what The Farmer’s come out of this match with. He’ll be in an ambulance now, being rushed to hospital... wow, this night ain’t too good injuries-wise, is it?
George Cassidy: The medical team of Osaka and Matthews, Michael Ryan and Aaron Davies all disappeared to the back with Farmer, leaving Reid and Larsson to handle the show. I guess that means we have no title change adjudicator...
Truth Waters: You’re right, you know. I wonder what would happen if...
George Cassidy: Well it won’t! A, we’re running out of time and B, Wade’s far too good to give it up.
Truth Waters: With Chainz intent on getting Kendericks to submit to this sharpshooter of his, there’s no way he’ll have the time to mount a serious assault on the belt.
George Cassidy: He realised from the beginning this whole concept of the pyramid is ridiculous. He’s just done what he does best, racking up the falls with some brutal fighting, and unless something goes horribly wrong for him in the next... minute, he’ll be getting a gimmick match of HIS CHOICE for a title shot at the December show.
Truth Waters: That will be exciting, finding out what Michael Sloan chooses... if of course he carries through to the end of this match!
Kendericks and Chainz still locked in their intense physical and psychological battle, Titan decides it’s time to go for glory. He wades up the steps, sticking out both his arms looking to clothesline both Radder and Yorke down. The security men absorb the blows with ease and together punch Titan in the face. He sways, but doesn’t fall, aiming a kick at Yorke. With lightning quickness, Radder slams the base of his hand into Titan’s temple. The big man falls and clatters to the bottom of the stairs.
George Cassidy: Nice try.
00:54
Truth Waters: Under a minute to go now!
Wade looks out despairingly, almost willing the gods to offer him up a challenger.
They do so.
Cave Hulk suddenly appears at ringside.
Truth Waters: HUH?
George Cassidy: Oh dear... it’s a Varga creation!
James Varga the Handler comes stumbling down the arena steps.
Truth Waters: There he is!
Battered and bruised, the Handler is smiling, because he’s got his notebook and pen – all he needs to wreak havoc on AWC.
George Cassidy: God Almighty... don’t tell me VARGA is going to happen.
Cave Hulk roars, beating his chest as he feasts his eyes on Mike Wade. His thumping footsteps take him up the pyramid’s steps, two at a time. All the while, Varga the Handler descends the arena steps, a gleam in his eye as he scribbles furiously.
Truth Waters: Somebody stop this madness!
00:41
Hulk knocks Taz Yorke aside with a sweep of his right arm. Radder leaps at him, battering him with punches, but Cave Hulk pays no attention, pawing lightly at his head; Radder is thrown off the structure entirely and hits the floor. CRASH! CRASH! and Cave Hulk keeps going, just six steps away... four steps... two steps...
George Cassidy: (moaning) Please, no...
Truth Waters: Chainz and Kendericks must be the only ones in the arena not paying attention as they continue their little battle... all eyes are on Cave Hulk and Varga the Handler, as the man who’s been absent this entire match looks to hijack things right at the last...
And then James Varga leaps out of the crowd and attacks his handler, a hard punch in the face rocking the writer on his heels. The follow-up enforces a sit-down on the steps, the notebook and pen dropped. Cave Hulk pauses, unsure of how to act without a script.
Truth Waters: What?
George Cassidy: Varga on Varga...
A second Varga leaps out of the crowd to attack the first, but he is silenced with a forearm chop across the neck. The first Varga then rips a huge fang out of the second Varga’s mouth, for no other reason than to rip off Harry Potter... and drives it deep into James Varga the Handler’s notebook.
James Varga the Handler: AAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHH!
Ink begins to gush out of the notebook spurting everywhere as the Handler begins to diminish in size, getting smaller and smaller until he disappears completely, along with Cave Hulk and the second Varga, to riotous cheers from the crowd. The first Varga, standing tall with the fanged notebook in one hand, then takes off his spandex mask to reveal himself as Pierre Hyde.
George Cassidy: HYDE!
Truth Waters: Who the hell?
George Cassidy: Did Hyde... just fire Varga?
Truth Waters: I have no clue what you’re talking about but WATCH THE CLOCK!
Wade wipes his brow in relief at not facing the Cave Hulk; Yorke and Radder now get to their feet blinking rapidly as they attempt to ascertain what just happened.
00:12
00:11
Titan just stands idly, watching things happen as he’s not very good anyway.
”TEN!”
Truth Waters: The crowd shouting out the time remaining, and Kendericks is STILL locked in what must be one of the most lengthy sharpshooters in history!
”NINE!”
Frustration gripping him, Chainz strains to apply some further pressure, but having become accustomed to the pain, nothing is going to push Alexa Kendericks over the edge.
”EIGHT!”
Truth Waters: A remarkable show of resilience by arguably AWC’s top female.
”SEVEN!”
George Cassidy: No chance – Ellis Nash is BACK, baby!
”SIX!”
Truth Waters: She’s erratic at best. Think she’ll really stick around?
”FIVE!”
George Cassidy: How can she not? I'm not going anywhere.
”FOUR!”
Truth Waters: Why are we discussing this at such a dramatic point in the match?
”THREE!”
George Cassidy: Because an enduring submission hold isn’t too exciting in words and Hyde’s already used up his bank of cliché.
”TWO!”
Truth Waters: Oh, fair enough.
”ONE!”
Chainz: (grunting) TAP THE FUCK OUT!
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Truth Waters: That’s the end!
George Cassidy: Wade retains! Chainz is #1 contender!
Truth Waters: But Kendericks holds out! Arguably the star of the show –
George Cassidy: I protest!
Truth Waters: Arguably.
James Brunt: Still AWC Relentless champion... MIKE WADE!
Wade raises his arm on the pyramid platform, receiving boos from all over the arena.
James Brunt: And the new #1 contender... CHAINZ!
But Chainz isn’t listening, still applying that damn sharpshooter, and Kendericks is almost crying with rage as she tries to tell him that the match is over, it’s done, she held out. Taz Yorke and Butch Radder run over and eventually bundle the man off, but he doesn’t go without a fight.
George Cassidy: Chainz has a point to prove.
Truth Waters: And at the December pay-per-view in a match with a stip of his choice he’ll get a chance to prove it!
George Cassidy: If not sooner. I don’t think he will wait that long.
Cornered With Nowhere To Go
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA, MIKE WADE
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
Paddy O'Shea: Come ‘ere ye feckin’ bastard! Aye’m goin’ t’ rip yer bollocks off ye bastard!
Mike Wade: Oh shit, on shit, oh shit!
The scene opens in corridor. The white walls are looking immaculate right now but as the cameraman is running, everything rushes past as a blue. The camera is following right behind Paddy O’Shea, who is sprinting after Mike Wade, about twenty feet ahead. O’Shea is screaming at Wade now, the anger and disgust in his voice so apparent it could slap you in the face. Not literally idiot.
Paddy O'Shea: Ye better stop Wade cause if ye don’t, when aye DO get ye, it’s goin’ t’ be a hundred times worse.
Mike Wade: Go to hell Paddy you monkeyfucker! You won’t ever catch me.
The two are now heading towards a set of double doors. As Wade draws near his eyes widen as he sees the doors opening from the other side.
Paddy O'Shea: HAHA! They only open way ye stupid fecker. No’ stop where ye are!
Wade kicks the door in frustration then dives into a changing room directly on his left. He closes the door behind him. The camera slows down its pace as it watches Paddy shoulder barge his way through into the room, taking the lock off the door with it. Once in the room, the camera just barely catches a glimpse of a locker closing, right before Paddy O’Shea reaches.
Paddy O'Shea: BASTARD! COME OUT YE YELLOW BASTARD!
Mike Wade: (from inside the locker) Not likely shitbreath, now running along now, I’ve locked this from the inside.
Paddy stands for a second then kicks the locker hard, his face immediately screwing up in pain. Now he’s angry again. He grabs the sides of the locker and begins shaking it hysterically.
Mike Wade: STOP THAT, YOU’LL GIVE ME PARKINSON’S DISEASE!
Paddy O'Shea: Aye… said… aye’d… get… ye… out… of… here… tonight… and… aye… intend… on… keeping… my… promise!
Seeing this is pointless Paddy stops and thinks for a few seconds. Then an idea dawns on him. It’s both brilliant and revolutionary in Paddy’s mind. He conveniently pulls a lock from nowhere and clamps it over the locker door.
Paddy O'Shea: Ye don’t want t’ come out? No problem chief, ye can stay in there then.
Mike Wade: …NO WAIT! NOOOOOOOOOOO!
Paddy O'Shea: Don’t worry Mike, aye’ll be back in a while, can’t leave ye hear now can aye?
Paddy walks away chuckling, Mike Wade’s scream ringing throughout the room.
Butterfly Hamada vs Paddy O'Shea
TRANSATLANTIC CHAMPIONSHIP CONTENDERSHIP TOURNAMENT, FINAL
STIPULATION: BEST OF THREE, FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
The call of the uilean pipes booms from the speakers and fills the arena in a short solo of beautiful intent. As the crowd look on in awe, the video screen slowly fades from black into the flag of Ireland - the green, white and gold of the tri-colour, rippling in the wind. A slow clapping begins to develop at the front rows of the crowd that quickly spirals outwards to the rest of the arena.
Truth Waters: Time to decide exactly WHO is the number one contender for the Transatlantic championship! Both of these competitors have survived two battles tonight to win through.
George Cassidy: Now it’s time for a gruelling Best Of Three match. Harber ‘caring’ for his superstars once again. Damn sicko. We need a new Entertainment Manager, like that lovely Tyler Nelson fellow.
Truth Waters: For entertainment value, this will rock and these two crowd-pleasing athletes understand it.
The spotlights suddenly pan down to the entrance, just as the uilean pipes are replaced by "Raggle Taggle Gypsy" by Christy Moore. The roar of an engine is heard, just before a mobile home emerges, being driven by Paddy O'Shea, who has a somewhat unnerving smile affixed to his weather-torn face. O'Shea drives the mobile home down the gantry and parks it by the ring before hopping out to a cheer of admiration.
James Brunt: The following is the Best Of Three, Falls Count Anywhere match to conclude the Transatlantic championship contendership tournament! Introducing first, from Galway, Ireland, weighing in at 180 pounds… PADDY O’SHEA!
Truth Waters: PADDY HAS HIS CARAVAN BACK!
George Cassidy: Oh joy, now we have to sit with that stink close by. Where’s Hate when you need something burned?
O'Shea raises arms in triumph and plays to the crowd until his music cuts out. Even now he climbs onto the turnbuckle, a broad grin on show for the adoring fans who are now screaming his name. Paddy mimics a belt around his waist.
”PADDY! PADDY! PADDY!”
Truth Waters: The most popular man in AWC is sending a message here.
George Cassidy: Yeah, it’s don’t go near the backstage toilets and the stench could knock out a camel.
Butterfly Hamada’s theme suddenly kicks into action and within seconds the young warrior from Japan is at the top of the ramp-way. The fans cheer in approval of the high-flyer who is quickly becoming a favourite amongst the AWC masses. She bows to the crowd and makes her way to the ring.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Tokyo, Japan, weighing in at 160 pounds… BUTTERFLY HAMADA!!
George Cassidy: Hamada looking hot here tonight.
Truth Waters: Yeah, she’s battled well through tonight to get to this stage.
George Cassidy: I meant her ass moron… Jesus that’s pert.
Truth Waters: Back to the match before we get sued. It’s about to start actually!
The two competitors stand in the ring now, staring at each other from each corner. The 2 now come out and begin circling each other, the quicker Hamada moving fluidly and smoothly around the heavier O’Shea. The two slap hands just as the bell rings. The equally sized competitors go for each other and lock up with O’Shea overpowering and throwing Hamada to the mat. Hamada gets straight back up and locks up again, O’Shea throws her down again. Hamada gets up again and goes to lockup again then fires a knee into Paddy’s gut. He keels over and refuses a knee to the face, sending him flailing back into the corner.
Truth Waters: Paddy not showing the aggressive qualities that have hindered him somewhat in recent matches with Hamada capitalising well.
George Cassidy: He was going for a grope… I know he was.
Hamada runs at O’Shea with a springboard before following up with an elbow smash. O’Shea is holding his nose again as he slumps down towards the mat. Hamada sends an elbow down before dragging him out and hooking the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
George Cassidy: Kickout by O’Shea.
Truth Water: That’s MY line!
George Cassidy: Frantic pace already from the pair.
Truth Waters: STOP IT!
George Cassidy: Would you calm down Cass – Truth.
O’Shea pulls himself towards the ropes. Hamada runs off the opposite ropes, comes back and baseball slides O’Shea underneath to the outside. Hamada stays in the ring however. Now she runs off the opposite rope again as O’Shea is getting up and suddenly she’s vaulted over the top rope with a suicide dive. The move flattens O’Shea and leaves Hamada relatively unscathed.
Truth Waters: Hamada really going at it here. She WANTS that spot.
George Cassidy: You’re right, O’Shea does suck.
Truth Water: I DIDN’T SAY THAT!
George Cassidy: Suuuuure.
O’Shea is now rubbing the small of his back with the back of his hand. Gritting his teeth, he gets to his feet, only to be put back down with a standing dropkick leaving him laid out flat on the floor. Hamada now pulls O’Shea to his feet, locking his head in a DDT position. She calls to the crowd for the move. A mixed reception ensues but it doesn’t matter, O’Shea’s head is planted into the stairs that way or not.
George Cassidy: Ouch, that doesn’t look healthy.
Truth Waters: Yeah that’s true. I suppose the fact Mike Wade is stuck in a locker is giving O’Shea a little bit too much security.
Hamada grabs O’Shea by his long mane and shepherds him back into the ring. She follows in and immediately puts abdominal stretch on the Raggle Taggle Gypsy. O’Shea’s face grinds in pain and he stretches desperately for anything to grab whether it be a rope or Hamada’s eyeball. After a few seconds, he manages to get the former and the referee, seeing this, tells Butterfly to break it up which she does reluctantly.
Truth Waters: That back of Paddy feeling that move. Hamada showing her knowledge of various forms of wrestling.
George Cassidy: I wonder what the bitch is like at bed wrestling. Heh heh. SMACK!
Truth Waters: Enough!
Butterfly now pulls O’Shea to his feet and thrusts him hard into the turnbuckle. He stumbles back out and Hamada jumps onto his shoulders for a hurricanrana. She begins to pull him down with her muscular thighs but suddenly she’s hanging in mid air!
Truth Waters: O’Shea maintains the hold!
Terror is now in Hamada’s face as she feels herself being pulled back up.
Truth Waters: Uh oh!
George Cassidy: No! You’ll break her!
Paddy slams Hamada down hard with a sit-down powerbomb, keeping it intact with a pin.
ONE!
The video screen lights up.
TWO!
And Paddy gets up.
George Cassidy: Wait, what the?
Truth Waters: The tron’s distracting him!
George Cassidy: JESUS CHRIST! FORGET THAT! DAMN IRISH ARE LIKE MOTHS WITH LIGHT!
Paddy is now looking over the rope staring at the locker he locked Mike Wade in not fifteen minutes ago. Only it’s moving. A smile begins to spread over his face as he watches it being carted away by AWC staff. And now he’s laughing. And the crowd are cheering too. Until…
Truth Waters: Roll up pin by Hamada!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
James Brunt: The winner of the first fall… BUTTERFLY HAMADA!
George Cassidy: IDIOT!
Truth Waters: Er… can’t really defend him.
O’Shea gets onto his feet, his face red in frustration after being pinned because of his stupid wandering mind. Now he’s pissed. Forgetting all the manners, he turns to Hamada who is staring at him and then spears her to the mat. Hamada tries to lock her legs around his waist but this backfires when O’Shea grabs her too, lifts her up then throws her over his head to the outside.
George Cassidy: See? Groping.
Truth Waters: That’s not the point Cassidy! Hamada just got belly-to-belly suplexed over the top rope!
O’Shea climbs through the ropes and drops down. Hamada in obvious pain is now getting to her feet. O’Shea stalks her then lifts her up in a suplex, putting her back down with the Caravan Slam.
Truth Waters: Ouch. Front suplex.
O’Shea grabs Hamada by the hair and thrusts her into the ring again. He waist a while until she gets up then throws a lightning quick jab, causing Butterfly’s head to snap back. He throws another left jab, another, another and then nails her with a lumbering haymaker! Hamada skids across the ring to the corner.
George Cassidy: WOMAN BEATER!
Truth Waters: Here we go again…
O’Shea begins to walk over to Hamada whose getting to her feet. Suddenly Butterfly throws a leaping roundhouse that goes over O’Shea’s head as he ducks. She lands in Paddy’s arms roughly and he puts her on the top rope quickly, throwing an elbow into her temple stunning her temporarily.
Truth Waters: O’Shea is looking for a quick pinfall here to get back into the match. Top O’ The Morn here would gift it.
Paddy climbs onto the second rope then the third, pulling Hamada with him. He grabs her by the side of the head, ready for the top rope face planter, but instead he gets a swift low blow and a push. O’Shea falls roughly onto the mat below.
George Cassidy: BACKFIRE! HAHA!
Truth Waters: And now an Arco Celestial would win the match for Hamada!
Butterfly waves to the crowd. The referee checks on Paddy who’s groping his groin then Paddy pushes him backwards and he bounces off the ropes. The waves in the rope caused suddenly send Hamada off balance and her legs split over the turnbuckle.
George Cassidy: That sneaky mick! Don’t worry folks, she doesn’t have a dic-
Truth Waters: Dictionary, yeah that’s it. A dictionary. George, shut up would you, we’re live.
George Cassidy: We’re also legit so…
Truth Waters: So what?
George Cassidy: Cock balls ass.
Truth Waters: Grow up.
Now Paddy is getting to his feet. He walks over to the turnbuckle where Hamada is sitting, pain etched on her face. Paddy pulls her up then grabs her head and manages this time to faceplant her down. Paddy hooks the leg quickly.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
James Brunt: The winner of the second pinfall… PADDY O’SHEA!
Truth Waters: So it all comes down to this last fall! Excited Cassidy?
George wakes up form his slumber.
George Cassidy: Huh?
Truth Waters: Exactly.
O’Shea goes back to his corner once more and waits for Hamada to get back up. When she does the two go to the centre of the ring and shake hands. O’Shea clasps a hand on her shoulder but suddenly Butterfly goes down and swipes O’Shea’s legs following up with a boot to the face before he hits the mat, sending his sprawling sideways.
George Cassidy: Payback’s a bitch Paddy.
Hamada hits a rolling Koppou kick then kicks again, this time at O’Shea’s ribs causing him to flip onto his back. She quickly drops a leg across his chest. Without wasting anytime, she locks in an armbar, leaning back for more stretch.
Truth Waters: Paddy isn’t accustomed to submissions… putting him at a disadvantage with such a versatile competitor.
George Cassidy: Boo fucking hoo. Nobody made him fight in this match.
The referee asks O’Shea if he wants to tap but he screams a defiant no. He’s not convincing though as he grits his teeth tight. The crowd begin shouting support but it’s not helping as Hamada goes back again, increasing the pressure.
Truth Waters: Paddy won’t tap now. But how long will he last?
George Cassidy: Until somebody waves a potato in front of him, that should get the spud sucker up.
Hamada goes forwards to increase the pressure and suddenly gets a jab to the forehead and she lets go instinctively.
Truth Waters: Hamada showing weakness there for perhaps the first time in the match. She gave Paddy the opportunity to break away and he sure as hell took it.
George Cassidy: Look, if you want a date with Paddy, I’ll see what I can do, but please stop KISSING HIS ASS!
Hamada rolls away as Paddy slows gets away but he’s not kick enough as Hamada hits a bulldog out of nowhere. He starts to get back up again but she bounces off the ropes and throws a spinning leg drop over his neck and once again, his face hits the mat first. Hamada allows Paddy to slowly get to his feet then she throws him off the ropes. She throws a roundhouse but he ducks it. Hamada heads off the other ropes and the two meet in the middle with both intended clothesline. Both feel the impact and both are splattered to the mat.
Truth Waters: Both competitors down now. They’re tired. They’ve been through HELL tonight. But whose got what it takes to go that extra mile?
George Cassidy: Who cares? As long as I bed Butterfly, I’m happy.
The two slowly pull themselves to the mat. They’re both tired and they’re both struggling. Now they’re both on their feet. O’Shea throws a slower than usual jab but Hamada sidesteps and sends a quick roundhouse but Paddy manages to duck this too! O’Shea goes for a punt but Hamada grabs his leg and swings his around and out of desperation nails him with a weak clothesline that only serves to put both competitors to the mat.
George Cassidy: Well THAT was a waste of time.
Hamada is first up. As Paddy gets on his knees, she hits a devastating kick to the side of his head. O’Shea crumples to the mat, seemingly motionless.
Truth Waters: My God! Paddy could be out! That shot echoed all throughout the arena!
Hamada, sensing the time is right, climbs the top rope, hesitates then jumps off with her Arco Celestial! Although messily, she gets contact on Paddy, but it hurts her badly. For a few moments she just lies there then she comes around and then she throws an arm over Paddy.
George Cassidy: MATCH OVER!
ONE!
TWO!
THRE-
Kickout!
Truth Waters: NO! NO! PADDY KICKED OUT! BUTTERFLY WAITED TOO LONG AND PADDY KICKED OUT!
The camera zooms into Hamada’s face. Her eyes are shut tight, refusing to believe she waited so long. She pulls herself to her feet again and looks down at the motionless Paddy. She stomps a hole in him quickly then climbs the turnbuckle again, convinced she needs to hit the Arco Celestial once again to finish Paddy off. Cluthing her rubs, she jumps off. (What the hell does that mean Mick? -Ed.) A foot before she contacts with Paddy’s body, he rolls out of the way and Hamada literally bounces off the mat face first.
Truth Waters: A word comes to mind…
George Cassidy: POSSUM! PADDY! YOU BASTARD!
Paddy is up off the mat slowly but surely and he looks down at the motionless Hamada, lying on her stomach. He really hesitates here and then does it. He locks in the half Boston crab with his legs then camel clutches Hamada.
Truth Waters: SHAMROCK LEGLOCK!
George Cassidy: That’s not in his bio…
Truth Waters: Three and a half years! That’s how long since Paddy last locked in his old finisher!
Hamada is almost crying in pain as Paddy pulls his legs up further. The referee asks Hamada what she wants to do. She struggles then taps. O’Shea releases the hold and then helps her to her feet.
James Brunt: The winner of the third fall and the match, and the new number one contender to the Transatlantic championship, PADDY O’SHEA!
Truth Waters: What a match. Hamada gave it her all but it was a little bit of resilence that got Paddy the win. Plus some old school magic.
George Cassidy: It was a choke! A choke I’m telling you! I don’t even want to imagine Paddy O’Shea as champ.
Truth Waters: Well, come his shot at the December pay-per-view, you may very well be looking at the next champion.
Paddy hugs Hamada then exits the ring closely followed by Butterfly.
Truth Waters: Now it’s time for the main event! I can’t wait!
There's Nobody Around...
FEATURING: SARAH KENNEDY, MADDY ESTELLE
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
AWC interviewer Sarah Kennedy strolls the corridors, humming a pleasant tune to herself as she goes. A microphone in her hand, she’s looking for someone to talk to about the forthcoming main event, but the corridors are empty. Until she walks right into the other interviewer, Maddy Estelle.
Maddy Estelle: Like, watch out where you’re going, BITCH!
Kennedy raises her eyebrows.
Sarah Kennedy: (sarcastically) Hi, how are you.
Estelle puts her hands on her hips, sighing.
Maddy Estelle: There’s no one to interview! I feel really…
Sarah Kennedy: Surplus to requirements?
Estelle looks at her counterpart curiously.
Maddy Estelle: I was gonna say horny…
The Englishwoman ignores the crudeness of her American colleague.
Sarah Kennedy: Perhaps they’re all too busy preparing for the match. Have you seen the structure? It looks amazing…
Maddy Estelle: You’re BORING, you know? I heard Aimz is joining, maybe I can actually get some girl time with her.
Sarah Kennedy: I can do girl time! And by the way, that was top secret information you just gave out live on air.
Maddy Estelle: Oh, I care WHY? And no, no you CANNOT do girl time. All the girls are strange here. There’s you… you’re perfect… Alexa’s all kick-shoot-kill-orgasm, Laura’s not even around, Juri’s… like… sixteen…
Sarah Kennedy: And Megumi?
Kennedy is referring to Butterfly Hamada, who has put in a very impressive performance tonight.
Maddy Estelle: Well, she’s kinda… wrestlery.
Kennedy sighs.
Sarah Kennedy: Anyway, can we end this now? Hyde only wrote this for some filler so O’Shea could get backstage after his match for his upcoming segment.
Estelle points at Kennedy in shock.
Maddy Estelle: You said the Hyde word!
Kennedy sighs.
Sarah Kennedy: Yeah, cut.
Hey, HEY! We’re Bound For MEXICO!
FEATURING: MIKE WADE, JUAN, PADDY O'SHEA
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
Paddy O'Shea: Okay, then aye want ye t’ take it with ye home fer a souvenir. An’ ye can do wha’ ye like with it. Tis my present t’ ye me friend!
Juan: Senor Paddy, you are too kind. My family will be most please!
Paddy is now smiling at his Mexican friend Juan, who also happens to be his biggest fan. With his usual backstage pass, Juan met up with Paddy just as he was nearing completion on his idea. Now the two stand in the parking lot, Juan’s pickup truck bearing one of the locker’s. Paddy closes the hatch at the back of the pickup, the locker now firmly secure with ratchet straps.
Mike Wade: LET ME OUT YOU SMELLY BASTARD!
Juan: Paddy…I think you forgot something in there…
Paddy smiles at Juan and clamps a hand on his shoulder cheerfully.
Paddy O'Shea: Don’t worry about it Juan, everything that’s in it is yers now. Includin’ the Mike Wade in there.
Paddy winks at Juan who now looks evilly at the locker.
Juan: Paddy O’Shea’s enemy is in there? Mike Wade? Do not worry my friend, Mike Wade will be made at home with me. I’ll make sure of that senor.
Paddy O'Shea: Do with him wha’ ye please Juan. EVERYTHING’S LEGAL IN MEXICO!!
Mike Wade: NOOOOOOOOO!!!
Paddy pats the locker twice then shakes Juan’s hand. Soon he’s walking away as Juan jumps into the pickup, starting it up before taking off slowly with a beep of his horn.
Paddy O'Shea: Bye Mike! See ye when aye see ye!
Triangles Match
ALCAEUS VS JACK MURPHY VS PATRICK MAPLELEAF
PIERCE LAVELLE (C) VS TIM MARTIN VS ADAM DICK
ALEXANDER STRIDER VS LIAM MARTIN VS TIM SHIPLEY
STIPULATION: TRIANGLES
REFEREES: LARS LARSSON, JOSEPH REID, AARON DAVIES AND MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
We’ve seen this structure before, but it still inspires awe.
The gleaming mesh of four different colours, reflecting the burning house lights and incessant camera flashes, represents the conundrum that faces our nine competitors tonight. How to achieve their prize of choice? The call is for fast and devastating fighting. Anything else won’t be good enough. Win your triangle and you’re guaranteed a prize, but if you take your time about it it might not be the one you wanted.
The production crew are enjoying themselves, playing with the zoom and panning of the high camera to afford us the best possible view of the Triangles structure. There are, in effect, four different cages down there, all triangular, all identical in shape and size. The golden triangle, in the middle, shares walls with all three of the outer triangles – red, green and blue. There is a door in each of the golden walls – in fact, more of a hatch, which will have to be crawled through by the winner of its corresponding outside triangle after he or she receives the key from the referee.
The officials are already in place: Lars Larsson in the red triangle, Joseph Reid in the blue and a harried-looking Aaron Davies in the green. Michael Ryan, who will be adjudicating from above, finishes climbing the outside ladder to the rooftop, and scrambles onto the green triangle before looking out and around in wonder. What a feeling, twenty feet up, with eighteen thousand people’s eyes on you.
He has a briefcase in each hand and Pierce Lavelle’s Transatlantic championship belt buckled around his waist. The significance of each of these was explained by David “Pearl” Harber weeks ago on Fresh!, but as Ryan places each of them – the title belt on the roof of the red triangle; the blue briefcase on the roof of the blue triangle; the green briefcase on that of the green triangle – there’s time for a narrative recap. Once a wrestler has won in his or her triangle and moved into the golden triangle, the next challenge is how to get through the roof hatch. Once up on the roof, that wrestler can choose a prize from what is left.
Assuming this is the first wrestler to reach the roof, all three will still be available for selection. The first, the Transatlantic title, is self-explanatory. It’s what every AWC wrestler aspires to – or at least they should. Pierce Lavelle, its current holder (for the second time), is universally recognised as the top dog in AWC, and no one can dislodge him from that lofty position while he remains in possession of the belt.
The green briefcase is next on our agenda, and it’s also known as the Grand Slam Package – because in theory, the recipient of this briefcase could be the first to do the AWC Grand Slam. The case contains five contracts. One is for a Transatlantic title shot, one for a Frontier title shot, and so on for each of AWC’s championships. All the holder has to do to cash in a contract is sign it and hand it in to the Entertainment Manager, and he or she will be granted the opportunity at the belt. The contracts do, however, expire in a year’s time, so in a way whoever chooses this package is setting him or herself the challenge of winning every single AWC title in a year.
Finally, the blue briefcase. It’s got a big question-mark on the side, and that’s for a reason: nobody knows what’s in it. Nobody save Pearl, who personally selected its contents and locked the case. Not a single person in AWC knows what is in that briefcase except the Entertainment Manager. Knowing Pearl, it’s something good – or more likely, something confusing. Most of his brainchildren are. Kind of like this match.
James Brunt: Ladies and gentlemen!
The crowd roar. This is what they’ve been waiting for.
James Brunt: At last... it is time... for the TRIANGLES MATCH!
Truth Waters: He said it Cassidy! It’s time to go!
George Cassidy: No thanks, I’ve already been and I haven’t had anything to drink since.
Truth Waters: This is no time for jokes. Especially if they aren’t funny. We’re about to see THE match.
George Cassidy: Which match, sorry?
Truth Waters: The Triangles match! And we finally know all nine of the contestants. In the red triangle, Alcaeus, Jack Murphy and Patrick Mapleleaf. In the blue triangle, Pierce Lavelle, Tim Martin and Adam Dick. And in the green triangle, Alex Strider, Liam Martin and Tim Shipley.
George Cassidy: Strider’s a dead-cert for his triangle... same with Murphy for his. Blue will be an interesting battle between Adam Dick and –
Truth Waters: Reigning champion Pierce Lavelle, who will not give up his belt without a fight! Do you think there’s any chance of Lavelle choosing a prize other than his title?
George Cassidy: ...between Adam Dick and Tim Martin, doofus. We can see through Lavelle now. His time’s been.
Jonathan Davis, “Foresaken”, and Alcaeus.
James Brunt: Introducing first, from Apollonia, weighing in at 285 pounds... going into the red triangle, ANACLETUS ALCAEUS!
George Cassidy: He’ll suck your bloooooood!
Truth Waters: Not without a fearsome entrance, y’know.
Alcaeus doesn’t get one of the big reactions he’s been recently garnering tonight; his presence is overshadowed by that of those more important in the fans’ eyes.
Truth Waters: He isn’t getting a whole lot of heat tonight... is Alcaeus... forgettable?
George Cassidy: Ha! Not a chance.
Truth Waters: These fans are just so set on rocking the house when Lavelle comes out that they’re reserving their voices for then...
George Cassidy: That’s one way of putting it.
Alcaeus approaches the triangle whose metal is painted red and sticks one leg through the open entry hatch before being low to fit his big frame through it.
George Cassidy: Why didn’t they just make proper doors...?
Lars Larsson motions for him to move away from the entrance so that the forthcoming entrants will be able to come in; Alcaeus walks away breezily, inspecting the structure with interest.
The church hymn “Hallelujah” now booms out from the PA, and after a moment, the crowd recognise the arrival of The Furious Fists Of God and start to boo intensely.
George Cassidy: Two of our MYSTERY COMPETITORS~! tonight certainly made an impact on the first Triangles qualifier, winning through with partner Jack Murphy – who, naturally, was the one who actually made the pin – to this final.
James Brunt: Both from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at 306 pounds and 301 pounds respectively... going into the blue and green triangles respectively, TIM MARTIN and LIAM MARTIN!
Truth Waters: They won’t be able to help each other out in this match, separated by the golden triangle.
George Cassidy: They’ll fare fine on their own. They’re decent competitors, 300-pounder... they’re not a duo too reliant on each other. We don’t have a T.T.S. situation here.
The two Martins enter their respective triangles, like Alcaeus not bothering to acknowledge the formulaic requests by referees to move away from the entry hatches. Liam Martin gives Aaron Davies a challenging glare; the young Welshman turns away uncomfortably.
Truth Waters: Oh no. Aaron Davies refereed the Fists’ qualifier and Liam Martin seems set on giving the young referee a bad time. Don’t be a pussy, Aaron! Stand up to him!
George Cassidy: Liam can probably bully Davies into giving him the key right now...
All the arena lighting goes out. The big screen flashes into life, with a piece of rapid video taking a first-person trip through a conceptual maze of light in space. The text "Astral Conversations With Toulouse Lautrec" buzzes repeatedly across the screen, as the song of the same name by Northern Irish rock group Ash starts up with a re-recorded robotic voice-over announcing: "Please welcome: Tim Shipley. Error. Does not compute. Does not compute..." The basic two-chord opening begins, with Tim Wheeler's melodic "Uh. Uh uh" leading the song into the slightly heavier section as the guitar joins in.
James Brunt: From Milton Keynes, England, weighing in at 201 pounds... going into the green triangle, the AWC Frontier champion, TIM SHIPLEY!
George Cassidy: He hasn’t brought his belt to town.
Truth Waters: Well, what would he do with it?
Cassidy has no answer to that, so he resorts to a pointless attack on AWC booking.
George Cassidy: I don’t like how Shipley gets a free ride through this pay-per-view without a title defence.
Truth Waters: You mean, like Jack Murphy?
Cassidy has no answer to that, either.
White spotlights dance around the arena, giving occasional highlights to the lustrous metal of the huge cage, and now two blue spotlights, positioned tonight on the stage instead of the ringposts, where they usually are for Shipley’s entrance, slowly rotate down from the arena roof to focus on centre stage, where Tim Shipley is now standing, his expression firm. The fans cheer loudly for the man who they have grown to like. The white lights dance more and more frantically before simultaneously all coming to a stop to also focus on the stage and Tim Shipley, just as another piece of robot-squawk ends to be replaced by the more simple "Uh. Uh uh" and the video feed changes to a shot of a conceptual spaceship racing through a tunnel. Shipley strides down to the ring, looking a little white as he “glances casually” up at the immense structure within which he is about to compete.
Truth Waters: He’s looking nervous.
George Cassidy: This is Shipley’s first big melée-style crazy match that involves a huge triangular-prismic cage.
Truth Waters: ...I think it’s everyone’s first “big melée-style crazy match that involves a huge triangular-prismic cage”.
“Oh, Canada” plays, and the Canadians in the audience stand and sing their hearts out, defiant against the noise of anti-support that Patrick Mapleleaf’s arrival through the curtain generates.
James Brunt: From Toronto, Canada, weighing in at 254 pounds... going into the red triangle, PATRICK MAPLELEAF!
Mapleleaf follows Shipley down to the ring just as the Englishman hitches up his leg to climb into the green triangle. Shipley, still looking pale, looks up at the bulky Fist of God who will be one of those in the way of the three prizes that could be on offer.
It’s either Coheed & Cambria or Thrice, depending on which biography you read on the website, but no matter the music, the man grinning inanely out at the booing crowd is Adam Dick. His appearance has elicited the most heavily negative response yet.
Truth Waters: These fans may not like Mapleleaf or The Furious Fists, but they hate Adam Dick.
James Brunt: From somewhere in Utah, weighing in at a weight unknown to man... going into the blue triangle, ADAM DICK!
Truth Waters: I still don’t know whether we’re allowed to call him the Face-Eater these days.
George Cassidy: Just go with the flow, and the Dick will provide.
Truth Waters: Nice.
George Cassidy: Hang on, there appears to be a problem.
Patrick Mapleleaf is complaining about the practicalities of going in through the hatch.
Truth Waters: Folks... I think Pat Mapleleaf wants someone to carry him in!
George Cassidy: What about his injury from earlier, anyway?
Truth Waters: I guess he was faking after all.
Growing impatient with the lengthiest sequence of introductions in Atlantic Wrestling Club history, Alcaeus storms over to the hatch and reaches through to grab Mapleleaf by his ponytail. Mapleleaf lets out a yell as Alcaeus pulls him through the hatch by his hair; Mapleleaf’s spine pivots on the metal frame before he falls to the floor in an ungainly manner.
George Cassidy: Mapleleaf hits the floor. What we haven’t really considered yet is that they aren’t wrestling on canvas, as per normal... this is the cold hard arena floor beneath their feet. Even the most basic of takedowns is going to take its toll.
Truth Waters: This match could be BRUTAL. We’ve already seen injuries tonight... there could be many more. I hope we have good doctors...
A sudden jolt of guitar riff is met around the arena by a litany of boos as “Seven Faces” by Slayer hits. There is no mass of explosions or spectacular strobe effects, just a simple spotlight on the entrance to the ring arena as all around fades to darkness. In silhouette 'The Bull' Jack Murphy is displayed, his arms stretched out in a circle above his head, the Livewire title belt held in one of them. Without another moment, the screen is removed and Murphy breaks the circle, moving straight ahead with purpose, his belt swinging in his hand.
George Cassidy: Here’s the main man!
James Brunt: From Kildare, Ireland, weighing in at 278 pounds... going into the red triangle, the AWC Livewire champion, JACK MURPHY!
George Cassidy: Jack ”The Bull” Murphy! Accuracy, please.
Truth Waters: He’s brought his title belt to town – no chance of a special fourth prize is there?
But it is to James Brunt that Murphy surrenders his title as he approaches the ring. He moves through the hatch into the red triangle – where Patrick Mapleleaf has pulled himself up and flown at Alcaeus!
Truth Waters: It’s kicking off over in red! Lars Larsson has a job on his hands keeping the action back until the bell goes...
George Cassidy: He’s more than up to that. Larsson would be on the security team if he wasn’t a referee.
Truth Waters: Hold up, we have another problem.
And surprise surprise, it’s The Illustrious Face-Eater causing it. Standing by the hatch to the blue triangle, Adam Dick seems to be refusing to enter.
Truth Waters: Too scared to go in and face... Tim Martin?
George Cassidy: Perhaps he’s realised that going in at all isn’t the best way to go about this.
James Brunt heads over.
Truth Waters: Here comes Brunty; he and the Face-Eater have had their history.
Dick grins at Brunt, pointing to the cage and making a climbing motion with his hands. A hubbub rises amongst the crowd.
Truth Waters: Put that hubbub back down!
George Cassidy: Folks... I think Dick wants to climb the outside of the structure!
Truth Waters: That would be... cheating!
George Cassidy: I'm not sure it’s what Pearl had in mind when he made the match, that’s for sure.
But it seems Dick’s only intention is to cause disruption; he knows David Harber would find some way to “screw” him out of his prize if he were to secure one simply by climbing the outside of the giant configuration of metal. Dick has a good feeling about tonight, and so he’s going to toe the line... “Purse”’s title belt could be in it for him.
Truth Waters: There he goes, at last.
Blowing a kiss to the ring announcer, Dick enters through the hatch to the blue triangle, referee Joseph Reid nodding to greet him. Dick plays it up, imitating and exaggerating the nod as if Reid has a nervous tic. Meanwhile, “Will You Smile Again?” has begun, and it’s booing, booing everywhere.
George Cassidy: They’ve saved the two big entrances for last...
The ring entrance goes to wash in red light, and golden pyrotechnics stream down from the ceiling and crash in front of the ring entrance. The big Atlantic Wrestling Club video screen spells out the name “Alex Strider” in bold red on black, immediately followed by clips of the technical wrestler in previous matches, highlighting his precision and submission prowess. Strider emerges from backstage, eyeing the crowd, a grim smile across his face. He stalks down to the ring.
Truth Waters: He’s... really back!
George Cassidy: This is the best news AWC has had in a while.
Truth Waters: On the contrary, Cassidy. Pierce Lavelle was finally establishing himself as the best there is without that thorn in his side, and now The Mongoose is back to make an ass of himself...
James Brunt: Making his return to AWC, from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 225 pounds... going into the green triangle... the FIRST EVER AWC Transatlantic champion and winner of Zero To Hero 2005... “The Mongoose” ALEXANDER STRIDER!
Brunt’s prolonged call for Strider just provokes further heat from the fans as Strider enters his cell pretending to ignore all the fanfare – or whatever its opposite is.
George Cassidy: That completes the green line-up, while those in the red triangle are already engaged in a brawl.
Alcaeus has by now left the smaller Mapleleaf down, some well-placed forearm thrusts defeating the Canadian, whose expertise is not in the brawling area. Collateral damage, though, was Jack Murphy, who Patrick Mapleleaf fell into, pinioning him against the cell wall, as Alcaeus made an advance, and The Bull wasn’t too happy about it. He now charges at Alcaeus, taking the 6’9” Ancient Greek by surprise to send his body thudding against the golden wall of that triangle.
Truth Waters: It’s all go in there.
Lars Larsson drags Murphy roughly away from Alcaeus, but there’s not too much point now as the FedEx Forum is quiet, awaiting the advent of the final participant in this match. The dead air lasts a little too long – before, finally, the opening guitar of “Stockholm Syndrome” rocks the house...
And the arena
fucking
explodes.
Truth Waters: Here he is!
The cheers, the roars, the banners, the cameras... Pierce Lavelle has never been so popular.
Truth Waters: I can’t even hear myself speak!
George Cassidy: Probably a good thing!
Truth Waters: What?
George Cassidy: Probably a good thing!
Crowd: What?
Angelo Deville: Look at the dog.
People Who Don’t Read PRIME: What?
Lavelle comes through the curtain – and there’s a communal intake of breath. It’s not the grand, striding entrance we expected. Instead, he’s walking wounded, horrible and fresh scars all over his arms, and one can see the bulge of bandages underneath his long blue tights protecting thigh injuries.
George Cassidy: What’s all this?
Truth Waters: Injuries sustained while on that investigation for Pearl, I can only surmise... but what injuries.
George Cassidy: Whatever Lavelle’s doing in LA is serious business... maybe I finally have some respect for the guy.
The crowd, recovering from the shock of seeing him a little different, cheer loudly once more, as Brunt makes his last call for a while.
James Brunt: And finally, from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 245 pounds... going into the blue triangle, the AWC Transatlantic champion... PIERCE LAVELLE!
Lavelle casts a glance up at the rooftop of the red triangle, where he spies his title belt, before moving around to the mesh that’s painted blue and climbing in through the hatch. Before he can even get there, though, the house lights are up, the bell is rung, and everyone’s at it thick and fast.
GREEN: We’ve got Tim Shipley, Alex Strider and Liam Martin – and the two heels have immediately identified the young Englishman as the weak link, despite his Frontier championship. On the same wavelength, the two immediately move in with a joint front facelock and Aaron Davies has to leap out of the way as they take him over with a double suplex in the middle of the triangle. Shipley hits the floor with a slap, and those fans who are paying attention sympathise with him...
But others are watching RED, where the action hasn’t let up from the pre-match shenanigans. Murphy, with his eyes on Alcaeus, is totally unsighted as Mapleleaf suddenly comes at him with a lunging clothesline across the collarbone, knocking him down into a position curled against the cage side. Mapleleaf scrambles to his feet and takes advantage with stomps to The Bull’s ribs, while Alcaeus ambles slowly over, composing a strategy.
Truth Waters: I can’t keep up!
George Cassidy: How about we split it? I take the green triangle, you take the red –
Truth Waters: And we just ignore the blue?!
They shouldn’t, because even as Lavelle enters the entertainment factor is high – seeing potential for some cool Matrix-y athleticism, Adam Dick runs at one of the outer walls, plants his left foot in the mesh a couple of feet up, pushes off to land his right foot higher up and spins through to complete a sideways somersault, landing cat-like on his feet right in front of Tim Martin. Martin nods, impressed, and punches him in the face.
Truth Waters: Haha! Don’t be a dick, Dick!
Lavelle turns Tim Martin around by a wristlock, pulling Martin’s arm over his shoulder and snapping it down with a shoulder arm breaker. Lavelle lifts the arm again and this time backs into the Bostoner as he pulls, flipping him over Lavelle’s body in a judo throw. Martin hits the floor hard, his 306 pounds bumping heavily, and he immediately puts a hand behind his back to try and ease the pain.
George Cassidy: Tim Martin hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.
Truth Waters: That was mighty impressive of Lavelle to perform that throw on someone so much heavier. He’s got real power in those arms; you don’t always see it.
Over in GREEN, Shipley, having taken a backbreaker from Liam Martin, is still laid out over the knee of the FFGod member as Strider works his upper body with little kicks and stomps to the head and chest.
George Cassidy: Green triangle, Strider playing with his food.
Truth Waters: Tell me if it’s something worth watching; my attention’s firmly on the red triangle now – OH!
Truth’s reaction is to Alcaeus suddenly scooping up Patrick Mapleleaf, who was bringing the fight to the grounded Jack Murphy with kicks against the cage wall, from behind into a reverse Death Valley driver, dropping suddenly to slam the Canadian head first into the floor!
George Cassidy: What? What?
Truth Waters: You missed a freakin’ reverse DVD Cassidy! Mapleleaf is down and out! And may be actually injured this time!
In the BLUE triangle now, Adam Dick comes to his feet, dabbing his hand against his cut lip. He looks at the grounded Tim Martin with distaste – it was he who hit the punch to draw the blood in the first place – before focusing on Pierce Lavelle, who instantly snapmares him down. Dick lays out flat, and the champion follows up with an elbow drop.
Truth Waters: That’ll keep him down. Pierce Lavelle firmly controls proceedings in the blue triangle. So who can make a quick fall and get first choice of prize?
George Cassidy: If either Alcaeus or Jack Murphy can get the better of each other for a minute to cover Mapleleaf, that one’s a done deal.
Referee Lars Larsson is now bending down by Patrick Mapleleaf in RED, moving his mane of hair delicately away so that he can inspect his neck.
Truth Waters: Lars Larsson’s seeing to him, but really, he’s got little to no medical knowledge, and there’s no way they’re going to get the medical staff in there!
George Cassidy: This match is poorly thought out. You’re gonna get a hell of a lot of injuries wrestling directly onto the arena floor, and no one dealing with them is lunacy. Ah well, he’ll pay for his illogic; Pearl’ll have to deal with booking cards from a roster halved in size due to injuries.
Lavelle brings Adam Dick to his feet, but Dick brings a knee up into his groin, causing Lavelle’s eyes to water. Joseph Reid smirks, doing nothing about it, and the Face-Eater takes Lavelle by his short, stylishly-messy hair to slam his head into the cell side.
Truth Waters: Flagrant knee to groin.
George Cassidy: Dick attacks dick!
Truth Waters: Joseph Reid just let it go…
George Cassidy: No DQ, of course; not a hell of a lot he can do about it.
Lavelle flails out with his right arm, trying desperately to prevent having his face smeared against the metal mesh twice in succession, and his forearm knocks the side of Dick’s head. That’s enough to momentarily stop him, and the moment is all that’s needed before Tim Martin comes in with a neckbreaker.
George Cassidy: Dick unsighted as Tim Martin brings him down. Sweet neckbreaker.
Truth Waters: Yup, no sightings of any dick... choice vocabulary, Cassidy.
Meanwhile, the GREEN triangle is all action; Strider has at last turned his back on Liam Martin, with whom he has been working – or rather, Liam turned his back on the former Transatlantic champion to continue stomping away at Shipley, and Strider surprised him with a sudden backslide. Aaron Davies now goes to his knees to count the first fall of the match:
ONE!
TWO!
Martin kicks out, throwing Strider off of him with authority after recovering from the initial shock of the manoeuvre.
Truth Waters: A professional Alex Strider backstab, but it doesn’t all go to plan; if it had, he’d be through to the golden triangle with plenty of time to work out his next move –
George Cassidy: Assuming that we don’t get a quick fall in another of the triangles, which we might!
Cassidy’s comment alludes to the situation in RED, where putting Alcaeus out of the way momentarily with a drop toe hold against the inner wall (gold) has afforded Jack Murphy the opportunity to pin the obviously hurt Mapleleaf.
Truth Waters: You’d have thought sportsmanship would prevail, but it’s Jack Murphy…
George Cassidy: The Bull is determined to win this at all costs – and to be fair it isn’t his fault Mapleleaf got hurt, and he shouldn’t let that diminish his opportunities –
Truth Waters: Whatever.
ONE!
TWO!
Anacletus Alcaeus stomps hard on Murphy’s back, causing the 278 pound superstar to roll over in pain. A deep furrow crosses the vampire’s forehead after his encounter with the mesh of the golden wall, but he isn’t letting that faze him as he nudges Mapleleaf’s body a little further from the Irishman’s before himself hooking the leg.
George Cassidy: Alcaeus broke Murphy’s effort but he’s himself going for the fall!
ONE!
TWO!
Murphy leaps up to sabotage Alcaeus’ attempt, hooking his arms within Alcaeus’ in an intricate full nelson variant before pulling him off Patrick Mapleleaf, turning him 90 degrees and faceplanting him to the floor.
Truth Waters: A long-winded way to break a fall!
George Cassidy: But an effective one, as Alcaeus’ head just hit the concrete and he isn’t getting back up in the near future!
Sensing this, Murphy once more makes the lateral press on Mapleleaf, who shows the pain he’s going through by letting out a cry. The jobsworth he is, Larsson doesn’t make his count any faster out of sympathy for the Canadian; this one goes straight down the line.
Truth Waters: Could he now have it?
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: Yes!
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy is the victor of the red triangle in an impressively short time!
George Cassidy: Granted, he’s in no small part indebted to that reverse DVD from Alcaeus causing what looks like a spinal injury for Mapleleaf – unfortunate – but Murphy has put on an energetic, high-octane performance and he deserves the first choice of prize that he will undoubtedly get!
James Brunt: The winner of the red triangle, and moving into the golden triangle, JACK MURPHY!
Murphy is immediately up to demand the key from Larsson, but the referee is insisting that the losers are removed from the outer triangle first.
Truth Waters: It looks like Murphy doesn’t get his key until Alcaeus and Mapleleaf exit the structure – sensible in theory, to prevent those who haven’t actually qualified from entering the golden triangle.
George Cassidy: But with Mapleleaf injured all this’ll do is slow The Bull down! You don’t wanna get in the way of a charging Bull!
Having received little attention in the last couple of minutes, the BLUE and GREEN triangles now see interest pick up. Lavelle, in the blue triangle, slams together the heads of Dick and T Martin with some unorthodox improvisation and then turns to the golden wall of his triangle, setting his hands and feet in the mesh and beginning to climb it!
Truth Waters: Lavelle’s aiming high!
GREEN sees a fast-paced technical exchange between Strider and Shipley, with Liam Martin sidelined after taking a sidewalk slam from The Mongoose. Shipley rolls through Strider’s Japanese armdrag to reel the Zero To Hero winner in and perform a Russian leg sweep. Both scramble up; Shipley is quicker and slides Strider over in a fireman’s carry takedown but The Mongoose shoots a leg up from the floor to catch Shipley in the face. The Englishman turns his back, taking a couple of steps away to grasp his jaw, and Strider locks up from behind. Aware that sluggishness here could mean a German suplex, elimination from the match and possibly even the end of his career, Shipley is quick to reverse the waistlock, moving round to behind Strider and rolling him up with a school-boy pin.
George Cassidy: We have a pinfall, Truth! Strider had a momentary lapse to let Shipley in but he’ll kick out of this without trouble.
ONE!
Indeed, Alexander Strider escapes the cover with ease and Shipley rolls off him, but before either can move, Liam Martin flattens them both with a body splash! A moment later, Lavelle leaps from a third of the way up the cage wall to take both his opponents down with a leaping double clothesline, landing in a sideways roll!
Truth Cassidy: OH!
George Waters: Boping splotheslash!
The announcers should really stop yelling over each other.
The RED triangle is the scene of some tempers fraying, with Alcaeus up and furious. Looking to exact revenge, he heads over to Murphy, who immediately turns to Larsson to plead for the key immediately. Larsson, with Mapleleaf still down and Nurse Jin Osaka only now entering the structure through the outer hatch (unlocked from the outside) to assess his condition before he can be moved, isn’t compliant, but then he hadn’t expected to see Alcaeus roar in and flatten Murphy with a big boot to the face. Anacletus Alcaeus does so, and the referee immediately steps in to block his path, though a tad too late.
Truth Waters: Alcaeus won’t go quietly!
George Cassidy: Vengeance for the vampire! But Murphy by rights should be in that golden triangle!
Murphy doesn’t let the attack faze him; The Bull is up at once and now Lars Larsson tosses him the key to the inner hatch without a moment’s hesitation as he struggles to block off Alcaeus. Murphy receives it gratefully and fumbles with the lock; Alcaeus knocks Lars Larsson down and pulls The Bull back. The key flies from Murphy’s grasp and The Bull watches in horror as it sails through a gap in the golden cell wall to land several feet inside the golden triangle.
Truth Waters: Larsson can’t stop Alcaeus! He’s beating the hell out of Murphy with those punches!
George Cassidy: That’s the least of The Bull’s concerns! The key, Truth! Didn’t you see it?
Truth Waters: What happened?
George Cassidy: It went through the cage wall into the golden triangle! There’s no way they can get at it!
Truth Waters: Holy hell.
Alcaeus, tired of the right hooks, now rears back for a big headbutt. Murphy pushes himself back against the cell wall, purportedly trying to edge away from the impending impact, but really it’s a ruse and as Alcaeus rams his head forward Murphy falls away. Letting out a roar, having headbutted the mesh of the gold wall, Alcaeus is hit by The Bull Charge from the resurgent Murphy!
George Cassidy: BULL CHARGE! And Murphy has dealt with the situation… but now he’s got nowhere to go!
Truth Waters: Surely there’s a spare key!
But as Murphy demands one, Lars Larsson, who has only just got back to his feet following his knock down by Alcaeus, seems to be protesting the exact opposite.
While things are more quiet in the other triangles, the action is certainly heated. Having jointly acknowledged the need to eliminate the man who came into this match freshest and in the strongest position, the Transatlantic champion Pierce Lavelle, Adam Dick and Tim Martin are doing their best to team up on him. A basic scoop slam from Martin has Lavelle down.
George Cassidy: Tim Martin would much rather have his brother in there with him, but he’s learning to work with the erratic Adam Dick.
Dick backs up and follows Lavelle’s lead from earlier, climbing the cell wall; with less regard for the well-being of his hands, he’s quicker than Lavelle was, and is also quite prepared to make a suicide dive with a leaping headbutt as Tim splays Lavelle’s legs.
Truth Waters: FALLING HEADBUTT!
George Cassidy: Right to the REGIONS~!
Truth Waters: No kids, Lavelle!
George Cassidy: Adam Dick sacrificed himself, leaping ten feet onto a concrete floor with only a thin layer of matting to deliver that glorified REGIONS~! shot!
Dick rolls over, uttering a low moan as he curls into a ball. Tim Martin, scarcely believing his luck, just drops on top of Lavelle and hooks the leg.
Truth Waters: Tim Martin could pull an upset here!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
George Cassidy: No!
Truth Waters: Lavelle kicks out – just!
George Cassidy: That’s about the closest anybody’s come…
Truth Waters: Except Murphy, of course, who has the right to be in the golden triangle, but not the means to get there!
Mapleleaf is now on a stretcher, with Nurse Matt Matthews helming one end and security man Bruno Hague manning the other; Jin Osaka looks on, concerned. This leaves Larsson barred in the triangle with Jack Murphy, who is yelling furiously at him, and Alcaeus, who is starting to rise again, looking a bit disorientated after The Bull Charge.
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy wants to blame anyone other than himself for losing that key!
George Cassidy: If he isn’t careful he’ll find himself on the receiving end of some Alcaeus aggression once again! He seems to have forgotten all about him.
The GREEN triangle’s had the least attention lately, and now we join the action there as Tim Shipley’s dropkick stops a charging Liam Martin in his path. Staggering but not falling, Martin takes a step backwards, and Strider locks in a sleeper hold from behind. Perhaps it’s intended for Shipley to lay into Martin unhindered, but the intelligent Englishman, seeing the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, launches in heavily with a low dropkick, taking out both left legs and causing his two opponents to roll off sideways to fall in a heap.
George Cassidy: Bad move. Strider offered him the chance to ally with the greatest wrestler alive, and Shipley shunned that.
Truth Waters: And that is bad how? Shipley took both out and now has the chance to land a power move.
George Cassidy: Perhaps, but think of the long term. Strider could make his life hell… he’s got the ammo… Shipley’s first appearance in AWC was saving Pierce Lavelle’s skin in the Inferno match at Solarized, thwarting Alex Strider…
Truth Waters: People don’t have much success with making Shipley’s life hell anymore; look at how quiet Aliso’s been lately.
Shipley brings Strider to his feet, and the heel immediately starts to throw right hands into his face. After the first two, Shipley manages to block one and shunt his knee hard into Strider’s midsection. Seeing that he’s in the spotlight, Shipley lets the inspiration take hold of him…
Truth Waters: Is Shippers thinking what I’m thinking?
Shipley digs his fingers into the mesh to his right, ignoring the searing pains ripping through his fingers as he hoists himself up to plant his left boot on the spine of doubled-up Strider. Shifting his weight to this left leg, he now brings his right up to push off the mesh and flip back in the messiest, but possibly most effective, Eternal Hope in history.
George Cassidy: Face! Hits! Floor!
Truth Waters: THE ETERNAL HOPE! Shipley has the green triangle won!
George Cassidy: He gave pain thresholds the middle finger as he determinedly used that cell wall to gain leverage, and he may just have destroyed Strider’s chance in the process. This isn’t how it was meant to happen.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Truth Waters: No! There’s Liam Martin!
With a hefty stomp to Shipley’s back, the FFGod member breaks the fall just in time. He raises the boot for a second, and this is where he makes his mistake – Shipley is on his feet in a flash, cradling that leg for his Chaos Theory!
George Cassidy: Up and over…
But Shipley can’t lift the 300 pound Liam Martin!
Truth Waters: Chaos averted, then! Liam Martin stays firmly grounded!
George Cassidy: Jack Murphy is going mad in the other triangle. And who can blame him?
Murphy, having dispatched of Alcaeus once more with a short but sweet sequence of technical expertise, is pacing up and down berating the world in general and casting wistful glances at the key, floored in the golden triangle.
Truth Waters: Indeed; while we may not have liked his means of victory, he still got the fall – the key, however, is out of play, and no spare means no dice for Murphy!
George Cassidy: What’s going to happen then? He needs to get a prize!
Truth Waters: He wants to get a prize… but unfortunately, he’s prevented himself from it…
George Cassidy: This is outrageous!
Patrick Mapleleaf has now been set down on a stretcher between the Triangles structure and the barricade for a closer on-the-spot inspection by Nurse Osaka before any major moves are made.
Truth Waters: Mapleleaf’s getting looked over again. Spinal damage can be life-threatening, so Osaka needs to handle this well.
George Cassidy: Oh, have faith in Jin Osaka; she’ll never fail a patient. She lives for nursing. Stupid bitch.
Truth Waters: Now that, Cassidy, just wasn’t necessary.
Now in the BLUE triangle, Adam Dick is still a little disorientated after willingly making that leap from partway up the wall. Joseph Reid offers him a hand; Dick slaps it away in disdain.
Truth Waters: Adam Dick is always spurning nice gestures from referee Reid…
George Cassidy: That’s because Reid is a complete tool, and idolises Adam.
Lavelle and Tim Martin, ignoring the man who has become the accessory in their scenario, are engaged in battle. Every right hand Lavelle throws is met with a stiff reply. Every attempt to switch the play with a grapple is rebuffed.
Truth Waters: I’m not sure Lavelle was expecting quite so strong a fight from Tim Martin.
George Cassidy: The Alliance division is so undervalued… the Martins are top talents in AWC.
Truth Waters: They’ve impressed me so far tonight, I must say. Once the situation with the Alliance championship gets straightened out I could see the Fists taking those belts.
Frustrated, Lavelle suddenly charges Martin with his head down. Keeping his cool, Martin laces his big arms around Lavelle’s trunk and allows the champion to back him up against the metal of the outer palisade. Tim Martin thrusts his knee up into the sternum of Lavelle, who doesn’t budge. He does it again, combined with a double axe-handle to his spine, and this time Lavelle slumps. Satisfied, Tim shoves Lavelle’s head down in between his legs and flips him up onto his shoulders…
George Cassidy: No way. No way in hell.
Martin then pushes forward, looking for the running powerbomb that would surely notch him up a surprise victory in this triangle, but Lavelle is clinging tight to the mesh! Tim rallies, driving forward, but the champion won’t budge, and now his right leg comes loose and he uses it to kick out. Catching one half of The Furious Fists Of God in the head, Lavelle gets completely free, and to make sure, he quickly climbs higher up the wall.
Truth Waters: Thwarted! Lavelle grabbed onto the frame!
George Cassidy: Only instinct saved Pierce Lavelle there.
Tim Martin staggers forward, the boot to the head having stunned him, and Dick is there to meet him with the Eaterplex ’05!
George Cassidy: EATERPLEX OH FIVE! And we’ve seen this COUNTLESS times tonight! Triangles is the night of the Eaterplex!
Dick sees Lavelle trapped up on the cage wall and quickly hooks Tim Martin’s leg.
ONE!
Truth Waters: Here comes the pin!
Lavelle’s expression changes from fury to resignation as he looks over his shoulder.
TWO!
The Transatlantic champion pushes off…
THR-
AND LANDS THE MOONSAULT!
Truth Waters: WHERE THE HELL DID HE COME FROM?!
George Cassidy: MOONSAULT! MOONSAULT FROM ABOVE! MOONSAULT FROM FIFTEEN FEET!
Truth Waters: There is – no way – I don’t believe it –
George Cassidy: Two count!
The three bodies litter the arena floor in the BLUE triangle, and Joseph Reid relaxes. No one’s making a move anytime soon.
In GREEN, the situation’s a little different.
Truth Waters: Oh! And Shipley hits the floor hard with that vertical suplex from Liam.
George Cassidy: He’d better watch out though…
Alex Strider creeps round behind Liam Martin and kneels before yanking the bigger man down and over his shoulders. He stands unsteadily, and begins to apply some pressure…
George Cassidy: LIFE SUPPORT FOR LIAM MARTIN! And I tell you he’ll need it after this TORTURE!
Truth Waters: Alexander Strider’s finishing move could garner a quick tap-out from Liam Martin! That’s all Strider needs to get his key!
Shipley scrambles to his feet to see the grinning face of The Mongoose challenging him. What’s your next move, Shippers?
He’s got one.
Sweet. Shin. Music.
Truth Waters: Shipley moves in – OH! And they both go tumbling to the floor!
George Cassidy: Shipley driving his boot into Alex Strider’s left shin…
Truth Waters: Crude yet effective! Strider had 300 pounds of Martin land on top of him!
But that’s not all Tim Shipley has in mind. Shunting the Furious Fist Of God away with his legs, Shipley takes hold of both Strider’s legs, contorts them as appropriate, and with no resistance, locks in Newton’s Paradox.
Truth Waters: IT’S OVER! IT IS OVER!
George Cassidy: Come on, Alex! You can get out of this!
Strider settles in for a long, hard night of painstaking pain-taking, and begins to grimace as Shipley cranks it up a bit.
Truth Waters: Strider’s not going to give in anytime soon. He’s got experience in submissions, and he’s quite willing to take the pain.
George Cassidy: Holding out for as long as possible can only be good here. He wants to frustrate Shipley, because if Shipley’s worried he’s taking too long about it – if he has a particular prize in mind, for example – he might just give up with that and go for a more direct approach. Pinfall.
Truth Waters: And that might just let Strider in… you’re right, Cassidy.
George Cassidy: Am I ever not?
Waters makes an unintelligible noise as we move to watch Jack Murphy arguing his case against referee Lars Larsson close to the outer hatch of the RED triangle.
Truth Waters: And here’s The Bull, once more pleading that he deserves a key…
George Cassidy: And so he does!
Truth Waters: Larsson seems to be agreeing with him more than anything… but unfortunately, there is that one key and he can’t do anything about it!
George Cassidy: Isn’t there any other way?
Truth Waters: I suppose once someone else gets into the golden triangle, he could try and persuade them to pass him the key…
George Cassidy: And who’d be stupid enough to do that?
We’re over to BLUE, where they’re all still down. The facetious Joseph Reid taps his timepiece and gives the camera an ugly wink.
Truth Waters: You know we’re employing some new referees…
George Cassidy: We are.
Truth Waters: Yeah. So, think we can sub out Joseph Reid?
George Cassidy: Why exactly?
Truth Waters: He’s a smug arrogant shithead.
George Cassidy: There is that…
And back in GREEN, Strider is sure as hell struggling with that Newton’s Paradox, the smile of the game gone from his face as his brow begins to sweat more heavily.
Truth Waters: Is that… panic I see in Strider’s eyes?
George Cassidy: Not a chance. It’s… laughter!
Liam Martin, having rolled over and over after landing when Shipley took Strider’s leg out, is stretched out by the outer hatch, struggling to recuperate from the Life Support.
Truth Waters: Looks like Strider is just waiting for Liam Martin to come help him out… in fact, shall we say relying on it?
George Cassidy: Don’t be dumb.
BLUE: at last, someone’s on his way up, and it’s Adam Dick. Moving all the more awkwardly – as is pretty much everyone in this match; taking bumps on concrete isn’t a great idea – he stumbles over to the golden wall and leans against it, desperate for a rest.
George Cassidy: At least Dick’s made it up. Lavelle was fool enough to attempt a moonsault from fifteen feet onto the arena floor…
Truth Waters: It was either that or lose his belt – and Pierce Lavelle is that Transatlantic championship. No question about it.
George Cassidy: I maintain that Strider made a better champion.
Truth Waters: And look at Strider now. Hand… floor… it’s happening, Cassidy, it’s happening!
George Cassidy: Not a chance.
But Truth Waters has more reason here; Shipley somehow finds it in himself to crank the reverse figure-four up another notch and Strider cries out, screwing his eyes tight shut with the pain. His fingers flex and twitch.
Truth Waters: Look at his hands. His fingers. He’s just seconds away. Seconds. I can feel it.
George Cassidy: It doesn’t matter, Truth, it doesn’t matter, because Liam Martin’s on his way to break it!
Wishful thinking, Cassidy? Not quite. Liam is roundly booed as he pulls himself up, the mesh his saviour, but looking out through it at the crowd means he misses what is really going on – and if he doesn’t right himself and get over there soon, it’ll be too late. The strain is showing in Shipley’s face as he grits his teeth, courtesy going out of the window as he racks up as much pain as possible for the man locked in his Paradox. He’s that close… he knows it…
Truth Waters: Come on, Shippers!
George Cassidy: Come on, Alex!
Dexy’s Midnight Runners: Come on, Eileen!
Closer to submission… further from glory… and for a split-second, Strider’s shoulder jerks into action.
Truth Waters: He nearly went! He nearly tapped!
The whistles, the cheers, the screams, the pressure of the fans…
George Cassidy: JUST HOLD OUT!
Liam Martin, looking round…
Truth Waters: Liam Martin’s finally seen!
Pipe dreams fade and all the underdogs get laid, The Thrills once sang. Tim Shipley got laid. And now it’s Strider’s turn for his dream to fade. It was a non-starter, really. AWC’s moved on in his absence. He’s out of condition, out of contention, out of his depth – or maybe Tim Shipley really is that damn good. The one night spring back to the top was never realistic. However you see it, any hope for Strider is just about to die. But Shipley’s eternal hope burns strong… and as Newton’s Paradox endures, Alexander Strider wanes.
His arm rises…
Truth Waters: The arm’s up!
George Cassidy: No! Don’t do it, Alex, don’t do it, I’m warning you!
It shudders…
Truth Waters: Here comes the tap!
George Cassidy: Just one more second!
Liam Martin thunders across the ring…
But it’s too late.
Or is it?
Liam Martin breaks it up with an almighty boot to Shipley’s head, but Alex Strider is already tapping furiously. Aaron Davies, on the scene and in his element, pauses – and then signals the submission.
James Brunt: The winner of the green triangle, and moving into the golden triangle, TIM SHIPLEY!
Having learnt from their mistakes with the RED triangle, the security team now open the GREEN outer hatch and bundle their way in (having forcibly removed Alcaeus from the red triangle a minute or so ago). Butch Radder scoops Strider up; Taz Yorke and Bruno Hague have to restrain Liam Martin; Aaron Davies hands his friend Tim Shipley the golden key with a smile on his face and…
George Cassidy: Is that a tear in his eye? I SMELL A FIX!
Truth Waters: Tim Shipley wins his triangle! Alex Strider submits and Tim Shipley goes into the golden triangle first! Well, technically second, but since Murphy never got in…
And now a hush falls over the arena as Shipley turns the key in the hatch and enters the golden triangle.
The silence is broken by a thud as Adam Dick scoop slams Pierce Lavelle just yards away, and Shipley’s first action is to venture over and peer through the golden mesh at the ongoing action in the blue triangle. Lavelle catches his eye; Shipley says something to encourage him and his occasional Academy partner responds with a weak smile. A boot to the sternum from Tim Martin wipes it right off.
Jack Murphy: Tim Shipley!
And now there’s another hush. Shipley turns, hearing his name, and it’s The Bull calling him. He’s up against the frame of the golden triangle, and he’s looking pointedly at something on the floor inside it, and Shipley sees what it is and puts two and two together.
Truth Waters: Now this… will be interesting.
Shipley slowly bends and picks up the key.
George Cassidy: Yes!
Truth Waters: No guarantee he’s giving it to Murphy – he could just throw it away!
George Cassidy: Now that wouldn’t be fair, would it?
Shipley comes closer, so that he and Murphy are just inches away from each other, and listens patiently as The Bull explains his story. When the Irishman has finished, the man in the golden triangle looks questioningly at Lars Larsson, who stands authoritatively just behind Murphy. Larsson nods slowly.
And Shipley passes the key through the mesh.
Truth Waters: He’s given him the key! Now that is gentlemanly conduct for you.
George Cassidy: It’s also supreme idiocy, since this means that Shipley faces a fight to get the prize of his choice, but whatever floats your boat…
In the BLUE triangle, Dick now suddenly runs at Lavelle, but fast reactions from the champion mean he can take him over in a powerslam. Dick yells out on impact.
Truth Waters: Ooh, powerslam on the concrete floor by Lavelle.
George Cassidy: None of these competitors will be able to get out of bed in the morning.
Truth Waters: Least of all Patrick Mapleleaf…
Mapleleaf is now, at last, being wheeled slowly up the ramp-way on a gurney, Matt Matthews and Jin Osaka taking the utmost care not to cause any further stress to the casualty.
We’re back in the GOLDEN triangle, where Tim Shipley has set up one of the two short ladders provided for the wrestlers’ use directly beneath the central roof hatch. It’s plain to see that he’ll have a job on his hands reaching it.
Truth Waters: Shipley isn’t one of the taller wrestlers here, and I’m not sure he’ll even be able to get a hold on the bottom of that extended hatch handle.
George Cassidy: Here comes Murphy!
The RED hatch finally swings open, and Jack Murphy makes his belated entrance into the GOLDEN triangle. He regards Shipley suspiciously; the two have encountered each other once before. Shipley says something to The Bull.
George Cassidy: Proposing a brief alliance?
Truth Waters: Telling him what prize he wants, more likely.
Whatever he says, Murphy doesn’t like it, as evidenced by the ensuing punch in the gut.
Truth Waters: He can’t do that! He wouldn’t even be in there if it weren’t for Shipley!
Straightening the ladder, Murphy looks at the doubled-up Englishman with satisfaction before beginning to climb.
Meanwhile over in BLUE, things are finally reaching a conclusion, it seems. Lavelle and Dick are teaming up on Tim Martin for the moment, and the Furious Fist looks about ready to lie down.
George Cassidy: Tim Martin doesn’t have anything left in the tank.
A superkick from Dick puts him down abruptly, and Lavelle and Dick now turn to each other, trying to psych each other out.
Truth Waters: There’s plenty between these two. We suspect Dick’s been tailing Lavelle’s activities in LA, and with Lavelle sustaining horrific injuries like THAT (Waters is referring to the scars lining the champion’s arms) then we must think foul play is a possibility.
Lavelle lets out a shout as he suddenly swings a right hook. Dick blocks it, but he’s not quick enough for the left jab that follows, nor the big roundhouse kick that makes him stagger back into the golden cell wall.
George Cassidy: Lavelle’s thinking the same.
Dick tries to scramble back into action, desperately swinging at Lavelle, but Lavelle ducks his attempted punch and jabs a thumb into the Unfuckable’s eye – mysteriously, the crowd cheer this. A lot.
Truth Waters: BLACKOUT!
George Cassidy: Oh dear…
Dick, blinded, is powerless as Lavelle sets him in a powerbomb position and lifts him up onto his shoulders.
George Cassidy: Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…
GOLDEN: Murphy reaches the penultimate rung as Shipley finds his feet. Shipley pulls the ladder out; Murphy lands on his feet and rolls away, reaching the border of this triangle with the blue one. He pulls himself up, his hands in the mesh, and leans back against the cell door, resting and mulling over his next move as Shipley stares at him.
He can’t mull for long.
BANG!
Lavelle slams Dick against the cage wall, this modified version of his Whiplash finisher absolutely devastating the rag doll in his arms. But perhaps just as importantly, it devastates the Triangles structure itself. The door to the golden triangle, into which Dick was slammed, flies off its hinges completely, and Murphy is flattened as a cage door and Adam Dick land on top of him. Shrugging, Lavelle clambers through.
Truth Waters: WHIPLASH! STRAIGHT THROUGH THE HATCH!
George Cassidy: No need for a key with Pierce Lavelle! Isn’t that breaking and entering?
Joseph Reid: Hey!
Referee Reid pushes his way over to the hatch, looking through at Lavelle with a sneer, the crowd booing him.
George Cassidy: Joseph Reid is going to pull them back to get a real conclusion!
With an apologetic shrug, Lavelle takes hold of the hatch and swings it back up, the metal bar of the top edge hitting Reid square in the forehead. The referee falls to the floor, stunned, and the hatch swings back open for Lavelle to bundle Dick through it back into the BLUE triangle.
Truth Waters: Lavelle’s just gonna go on as if he has indeed picked up the victory, but really, he shouldn’t be in that middle triangle…
George Cassidy: This is where I cry FAVOURITISM! If Adam Dick had done that he would have been disqualified or something!
Truth Waters: But Lavelle sends the motionless Face-Eater back into the blue triangle and he’s helping Shipley with the ladder…
The two Academy team-mates are now arranging the ladder so that it is dead-centre. After a brief exchange of words, they now both begin to climb, one either side.
George Cassidy: It looks like Shipley and Lavelle are going to work together here.
Jack Murphy rolls away from the BLUE hatch and starts to bring himself to his feet, just as Shipley and Lavelle reach their respective penultimate rungs. The younger steps to the top, and Lavelle links his arms together around Shipley’s legs.
Truth Waters: That’s the way to do it; Lavelle lifting Shipley up – can he reach that handle…?
Shipley strains his arms, but his fingertips are still tantalisingly just a few inches away from the handle. Unaware of how far off he is, Lavelle tightens his grip and makes the step up to the top platform of the ladder himself, putting all his way on the right foot as he moves upwards. Tim Shipley manages to grasp the bottom of the handle –
George Cassidy: Here comes The Bull!
Murphy roars straight through the ladder, knocking it out from beneath them and sending Lavelle tumbling to the floor where he lands on his side, the wind knocked out of him. Shipley holds the hatch tight, and it suddenly jolts downwards, opening up as Shipley’s body now has nothing to stand on and no one to hold it. The sudden halt as the hatch reaches its open position tests Shipley, but he holds on tight, gritting his teeth as he channels all his energy to his arms, and he dangles in mid-air looking desperately down at the fallen Lavelle below him.
Truth Waters: The pathway is clear! The hatch is open and any man can take his prize! All they need to do is get through… but right now no one can do that!
Michael Ryan readies himself on the roof, knowing his experience might be called for soon, as he watches Shipley struggling to hang on. Jack Murphy grabs the ladder that he knocked down and places it in the center of the ring, but as soon as he begins to climb Shipley raises his leg, knocking his right boot against his head. The blow doesn’t cause any pain, but The Bull realises that with Shipley blocking his way there’s no chance of him getting up the ladder.
No problem.
He moves it a couple of metres away from Shipley and, once more, starts to climb.
Truth Waters: What does Murphy have in mind?
George Cassidy: Shipley’s blocking the road to glory so he needs to find some way of taking him out!
Lavelle rolls onto his hands and knees, breathing heavily and trying to get his eyes to focus as he struggles to find the energy to keep going. He casts a lingering glance at the inside of his forearm, the criss-crossing wounds a solemn reminder of his horrific week – the details of which we don’t know. The Bull now at the top of his ladder, Shipley, at the end of his tether with regards to keeping a hold on the rubbery handle of the hatch, stares at him with wide eyes. A grim expression is Murphy’s only response, and setting himself, he stands precariously on the top step of the ladder, pauses, and launches upwards.
George Cassidy: HOLY SHIT!
Truth Waters: THE BULL CHARGE! OFF THE LADDER!
George Cassidy: A flying Bull Charge takes Shipley out and he goes flying backward!
Shipley lands in a heap against the border with the BLUE triangle, his coxis taking much of the impact as he immediately rolls onto his side and starts to cough up blood. Murphy attempts to roll with the fall, but it’s really not too easy when you’re falling from a height onto such a hard surface and he ends up falling hard on his back, wheezing heavily as his body goes into some minor form of shock.
Truth Waters: That was nothing short of DANGEROUS!
George Cassidy: A reckless move by Jack Murphy! Putting his life on the line and that of Tim Shipley!
”HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”
Truth Waters: The fans chanting “Holy shit!”, and they’ve got reason for it! This is… madness!
George Cassidy: I can’t see either of these guys getting up from this! The injury list just gets longer!
Lavelle stares at the two of them in horror as he finally regains a vertical position, unaware of what just happened. He walks, then jogs over to Shipley, bending down and urgently trying to communicate with him, worry for the condition of his friend overcoming his desire to retain his Transatlantic gold – or, indeed, choose a different prize.
Truth Waters: There’s not even a referee in that central triangle.
George Cassidy: That’s because they didn’t expect a hell of a lot to happen in there!
Shipley nods impatiently at Lavelle, but his face has turned very white and as he ejects the spare fluid from his mouth onto the floor, most of it is the dark red of blood. Jack “The Bull” Murphy is now dry-heaving incessantly, his body’s response to that big fall.
Lavelle turns away from Shipley, confident that he will be able to recover, or perhaps suddenly aware that he still has a match to win. His progress towards the ladder is suddenly halted, though, as he hears a creaking noise from behind him. He whirls around to see the BLUE hatch opening once more, and Adam Dick pulling himself through, closely followed by Tim Martin.
Truth Waters: Here they come to try and steal a little glory!
George Cassidy: With Shipley and Murphy apparently out of the picture… could this be Adam Dick’s time?
Truth Waters: I… er… hope not.
George Cassidy: The only three really in contention for these three prizes are all from the blue triangle! We just need a bit of collusion…
Truth Waters: Luckily Lavelle’s sense of fairness is set to prevail.
Lavelle ignores Dick and Martin, striding over to the ladder (which fell as Murphy leapt off) and planting it centrally. Dick, with a wink to Tim Martin, advances on Lavelle, Martin following – but suddenly Lavelle swings round, bringing the ladder horizontal to crash into both their skulls!
George Cassidy: TAKEOUT!
Truth Waters: He wasn’t ignoring them at all!
George Cassidy: A basic, basic ploy from Lavelle…
Truth Waters: But at this stage of the night no one’s sufficiently alert to recognise it, and Dick and Tim Martin eat steel.
As this happens, Senior Referee Michael Ryan remembers with a jolt that he was meant to send a rope down into the GOLDEN triangle as the hatch was opened. Belatedly, he feeds the end of the black bungee rope through the hatch, and it finishes up around eight feet off the floor, the other end connected way up in the rafters of the arena.
Truth Waters: Hold on, wasn’t that meant to come down a while ago?
George Cassidy: Yeah! The idea was that once the hatch was opened that’d fall through for anyone to use.
Truth Waters: Michael Ryan got so caught up in everything that he forgot!
George Cassidy: But still, this bungee rope is hardly a perfect solution for those competitors willing and able to go for gold – it’s pretty difficult to climb up!
Pierce Lavelle, seeing the rope above his head, plonks the ladder down quickly and skips up the first couple of rungs. Grabbing the end of the rope with both hands, he pushes off from the second step of the ladder and tries to use this momentum to rise quickly up the rope. Unfortunately, what goes up must come down, and bungee ropes have a tendency to stretch a little; as Lavelle falls back towards the floor, his feet hit it, and with excellent timing he pushes off hard. The Transatlantic champion suddenly finds himself propelled into the air; leaving surprise for another day he reacts quickly to let go of the rope at the peak of his rise, just about grabbing hold of the handle on the hatch.
George Cassidy: This is like a game of Worms!
Truth Waters: Lavelle bouncing around like a football, and he timed his leap from rope to roof perfectly. Miss it, and he was looking at a twenty-foot fall and a pair of broken legs.
Holding on tight to the handle with both hands, Lavelle now edges his head backwards, rotating his body around the hatch to have his legs meet the roof mesh. Bending them and working back further, he just manages to squeeze his feet through the open gap, now extending his legs out onto the roof.
George Cassidy: He’s almost totally inverted, and where does he go from here?
As Lavelle puzzles this one out (the fans cheering him on), Dick and Tim Martin get to their feet. So, pleasingly, do Shipley and Murphy – but they’re more than a little shaken, particularly the Englishman, whose face is paper white and pock-marked with specks of blood.
Truth Waters: And that is pleasing! It’s more than that, it’s a miracle. To see Tim Shipley and Jack Murphy both standing after that incredible fall they took together… nothing short of a blessing.
George Cassidy: Now they need some medical attention –
Truth Waters: Hold it Cassidy – I think they’re going to carry on competing!
George Cassidy: They’re insane.
Truth Waters: Tim Shipley is not letting what could well turn out to be a broken pelvis keep him from a shot at winning this stunning Triangles finale!
George Cassidy: Back out now, save your career. Continue, and lose your life. It’s not brain surgery…
Truth Waters: It isn’t quite like that Cassidy. Only Tim Shipley knows the true extent of how he’s feeling. The same goes for The Bull.
Shipley turns slowly to look at Murphy, and the two lock eyelines. A mutual understanding between them after both going through what they just went through together, they as one look to the current problem – Adam Dick and Tim Martin, who have each commandeered a ladder.
Truth Waters: BULL CHARGE!
George Cassidy: Out of nowhere!
Murphy takes down Tim Martin with The Bull Charge; the ladder goes slamming against the GREEN triangle wall with a loud clang as Murphy follows up with furious punches, not letting up as Martin begs off, totally helpless under Murphy’s kneeling body. Encouraged by this show of defiance, Shipley himself runs at Adam Dick, and receives a ladder shot to the forehead.
George Cassidy: Oh… Dick catches Shipley in the head!
Dick holds the ladder to one side, wanting Shipley to see his sneering face, but he’s overestimated the impact of his attack, and Shipley, despite being bent up after taking the shot, comes back with a roaring slug to the cheekbone. Dick goes down, and Shipley grabs the ladder, lifting it and driving the bottom of it down into his ribcage over and over.
Truth Waters: Determination winning through for Tim Shipley… and Pierce Lavelle, too!
Lavelle is still upside down, halfway out of the roof hatch, his legs pressed hard against the top but his hands still grasping the wide handle on the underside of the open door. His left hand comes away, and, shaking, he brings it around to the topside of the hatch, planting it in the mesh. Now comes the test… of strength and of faith. Closing his eyes tight… he takes his right hand off the handle, and quickly has it join his left hand in the mesh of the hatch’s top side. He stays still, his first movement completed successfully, sighing with relief.
Truth Waters: The Transatlantic champion slowly working his way up through the hatch… his title belt a matter of feet away! So close now!
George Cassidy: It would’ve been so much easier just to climb the bungee rope…
Truth Waters: Evidently, Lavelle didn’t feel that way.
Murphy finally steps off Tim Martin, leaving the face of the FFGod member bloodied and beaten. Casting his eyes up at Lavelle struggling at the top, an idea suddenly hits him, and he runs over to the hatch through to the RED triangle.
Truth Waters: What’s going on?
George Cassidy: Murphy’s spotted something…
Murphy hurtles through the RED triangle and out of the open outer hatch, stumbling as he goes through to fall on his face by the barricade, jeers from the crowd greeting his exit from the structure.
Truth Waters: I don’t get it. Is he walking out on this? Why?
George Cassidy: Not at all, Truth! He’s found another way – something he should’ve spotted earlier when he couldn’t get into the golden triangle! He didn’t need to wait to get in at all, since it’s just as simple to get out?
The Bull picks himself up, ignoring exhaustion as the feel-good factor of endorphins tells him what to do. He can’t resist spitting into the crowd first, though.
Truth Waters: Just not called for. Not called for at all.
And now, Murphy turns. Planting his right hand and left leg into the gaps in the red metal, he pushes upwards and begins to climb.
George Cassidy: There he goes! Jack Murphy climbs for glory!
Truth Waters: The race is on for first choice! Murphy or Lavelle?
Lavelle sees Murphy’s ascent out of the corner of his eye, and redoubles his efforts, pushing out with his arms to edge more of his body onto the rooftop. Confident his centre of mass is on solid metal, he tentatively lets the hatch go completely from his hands – and he doesn’t fall. Relieved, he slowly and carefully sits up on the gold metal framework of the central triangle.
Truth Waters: Lavelle’s finally on the roof!
George Cassidy: His job’s not done yet though!
We cut to a bird’s eye view. The red triangle, at the top of our screen, has a title belt laid out on it – the Transatlantic title belt. The golden triangle, in the middle, has the outlines of two humans – referee Michael Ryan and current Transatlantic champion Pierce Lavelle, getting slowly to his feet. The blue triangle, to the left, has a blue briefcase on its rooftop, and the green triangle a green one. But there’s a hive of activity on the side of the red triangle – and as we cut back to the normal view, we see that it’s Jack Murphy, nearing the top of the cage wall!
George Cassidy: Murphy’s on his way! He seems to be going for the title too! We have a race on our hands!
Lavelle, finally in a vertical position, whirls around to get his bearings. Spotting the Transatlantic title belt, he hurries over, his boots sounding loudly against the metal mesh. Just a few steps away now – and Murphy hurtles over the edge.
Truth Waters: Here he is! Lavelle just a couple of steps away! And –
Lavelle makes a desperate dive. Murphy lunges. But Murphy’s just milliseconds late; Lavelle goes lower and scoops the belt out from under him, ignoring the serrative effect of the metal against his bare torso. Angry as he hits the metal framework empty-handed, Murphy aims a kick at Lavelle, and it thuds into his ribs, but Lavelle couldn’t care less; he stands and stands tall, raising the title belt above his head with a gigantic smile.
James Brunt: The winner of the Transatlantic title, and still Transatlantic champion, PIERCE LAVELLE!
George Cassidy: Lavelle got there first!
Truth Waters: He retains!
George Cassidy: Jack Murphy so close to the belt that’ll be his soon enough!
Truth Waters: Lavelle’s been through a lot in this match and how much will it mean to him to come away with his title reign intact!
George Cassidy: Bah, he had a free ride through; Murphy’s already had to contest a big nine-man match tonight.
Truth Waters: The Bull doesn’t look too happy at missing out on the title…
A stagehand now props a 20-foot ladder against the side of the RED triangle for Lavelle to descend, but he’s got a more pressing issue as Jack Murphy squares up to him. Lavelle bad-temperedly swings his belt, but Murphy ducks and slams a fist into his gut.
George Cassidy: Here comes the pain! It’s not over yet for Pierce Lavelle.
Latching his arms across Lavelle’s back and grabbing the tights, Murphy looks for a stump puller on the top of the cage.
Truth Waters: Murphy going for a piledriver!
The steely Lavelle doggedly holds his ground, and strains every muscle in his back and neck to actually rise towards a vertical position again, his arms tightly around Murphy’s abdomen as he lifts him before what will be a back drop attempt.
Truth Waters: Lavelle counters! No piledriver! And he’s going for a back drop…
George Cassidy: Oh my Lord, Murphy’s going to go over the edge! Truth, that’s a 20 foot drop onto the hard arena floor! Somebody tell Lavelle to STOP!
The Transatlantic champion doesn’t, but what could quite literally be a lifesaver for Jack Murphy is his enduring hold on the material of Lavelle’s tights; in his inverted position on the champion’s back, he refuses point-blank to take the back drop, peering fearfully over the edge of the structure at the padded concrete far below.
George Cassidy: He’s holding on!
Truth Waters: Lavelle can’t shake him!
Though impatient, Lavelle has a second trick up his sleeve: working his legs further apart, he suddenly leaps forward and into a sitting position, driving Murphy’s head into the mesh!
Truth Waters: Ouch!
George Cassidy: Shit, that’s gotta hurt! Murphy’s face driven into the roof of the cage!
Lavelle rolls away, leaving Murphy for dead, and bows to every corner of the applauding crowd, letting his victory sink in. Picking his title belt (that he dropped after he missed when swinging at Murphy) back up, a broad smile crosses his face before he buckles it around his waist and turns to descend the ladder.
Truth Waters: That’s it! Confirmation for Lavelle that he’s done what he set out to do tonight. Hold on to what he’s got and give everything to do so.
George Cassidy: Murphy is motionless…
Truth Waters: See, that was plain idiocy. After Lavelle got the Transatlantic title belt, The Bull could have let him be and had his choice of the other two prizes. Instead he went after him getting nothing out of it other than what looks like twin gashes in his forehead. He might yet lose out on getting a prize at all if two of Shipley, Dick and Tim Martin get sorted real quick.
George Cassidy: Adam Dick will not walk out Transatlantic champion tonight – it was an outcome many suspe –
Truth Waters: Feared.
With Martin still curled up in a bloody ball at the side of the GOLDEN triangle, it looks to be between Shipley and Dick. Now, they stand, if a little unsteadily, each as exhausted as the other. The exchange of right hands is sluggish, with a good 2-3 seconds passing between each blow, both unable to summon up the energy to gain a decent advantage on his opponent. Shipley sends a punch into Dick’s face, sending a wad of spittle flying from the Face-Eater’s mask to the floor.
Truth Waters: You can tell how tired these two are; they’re not even unable to get in a strong fighting position, taking a while to recover after each shot. Their heads don’t snap back to centre after they get hit, it’s more, shit, I got hit, that hurt, I’ll be a while.
George Cassidy: Not the kind of attitude that wins you a main event –
Truth Waters: I’m not sure we’re in a position to comment on attitude after what these two’ve been through tonight. Especially Shipley, who by rights should be in a hospital bed.
But now with more colour in his cheeks, Shipley manages to be the first to land two consecutive punches in this exchange, this one sending Dick reeling. Knowing he might not get a real opportunity, Shipley nudges the upright ladder left a little bit and uses the slight lull to mount the first rung, his head dropping against a step higher up as tiredness gets the better of him.
George Cassidy: Here he goes, but Dick’s going to be right there.
Dick steps up on the other side of the ladder, and the two slowly climb, ignoring each other’s presence in the hope that it will go away.
Truth Waters: Neither is doing anything about his opponent…
George Cassidy: Each wants to be the quicker, but these two are too evenly matched. This is gonna go right to the wire, if they can even make it to the top.
Both reaching the fifth step of the ladder, they reach out an arm for the feel of the bungee rope. Shipley clasps it in his right hand; a moment later, Dick has a hold too, and they both, with a huge effort, transfer the safe foothold of the ladder into a precarious climbing position. Knocking into each other as the ladder is kicked aside, Shipley and Dick are struggling to hold on, let alone move up the bungee rope.
Truth Waters: Now here’s the chance! Just the swing of a leg or an elbow to the face and one of these two has free reign…
But they’re in too close. Neither man has the space to even draw back a leg. Pressed tightly against each other, they stare into each other’s eyes, eyeballs only inches apart. The Face-Eater suddenly shunts his hand a foot up the rope and yanks hard to pull himself up a little. Shipley follows suit.
George Cassidy: Bit by bit… nip and tuck…
On the rooftop, Jack Murphy rolls onto his back, still totally out of it after that brutal piece of improvisation by Pierce Lavelle, who now hits the floor after climbing down the ladder and high-fives the nearest person, who happens to be Aaron Davies.
Truth Waters: Look at Lavelle. He’s ecstatic.
Lavelle almost falls into the barricade as he fumbles to sign the many autograph books and programmes pushed out at him by the eager front-rowers. Knowing his duties, despite his condition, Pierce Lavelle signs them all with his scarred right arm, his collapse out of exhaustion delayed till later by an overriding desperation to please his many fans.
Truth Waters: That is good to see. Pierce Lavelle, after all that, is signing autographs.
George Cassidy: Trying to curry favour, no doubt…
Adam Dick’s got the upper hand in terms of rope-climbing, moving more comfortably up the bungee as he gets used to the procedure. Shipley, who didn’t count gym as a strong subject at school, is struggling. In desperation, he wraps his arms around Dick’s legs. Dick struggles to kick them, but Shipley clamps his arms round tightly, and Dick desperately continues to climb, the process now doubly hard with a 200 pounder freeriding on his tail.
Truth Waters: It’s Adam Dick advancing the faster, with Shipley resorting to riding his coat-tails on the rope climb. But can Dick even win now that Lavelle, who was in the same triangle, has got a prize already?
George Cassidy: I doubt they’d disallow it. No one really knows the rules anyway.
Jack “The Bull” Murphy slowly sits up on top of the cell.
George Cassidy: Come on Jack!
Truth Waters: Murphy needs to be quick or perhaps both Dick and Shipley will beat him to the end game!
Dick reaches his left arm out, looking for a firmer hold on the roof hatch, but he’s the wrong side of the rope. Annoyed, he continues to pull both himself and his former adversary further up the bungee rope, all the while contending with its infuriating bounciness.
George Cassidy: Dick was counting on getting a hold of that hatch, but he’s on the other side of the rope, and so he’ll have to keep climbing.
Truth Waters: Shipley could get it though – the handle, I mean. If he just wakes up and realises what’s going on… yes!
Shipley suddenly pulls up strongly, wrapping his legs around Dick’s waist for a brief second as he takes his arms away completely to arch backwards and take hold of the wide rubber handle on the hatch. Now free of his reliance on his old enemy, Shipley lets his legs swing away, and Dick scrabbles to climb through before Shipley can stop him.
George Cassidy: Shipley has the handle and he’s dangling like Lavelle was earlier, only this time he’s got to stop Adam Dick getting through that hatch if he wants any chance of winning!
Dick gets a hand to the rooftop, but he’s not quite quick enough as Shipley moves in with both feet, targeting his ribcage. Adam Dick slips and falls, managing to grab the rope again, but the movement a metre or so down the bungee means that the rubbery rope is swinging and bouncing all over the place, and it’s the most the Face-Eater can do to just hold on.
George Cassidy: Adam Dick nearly fell to the floor there, but managed to recover in time to grab the rope.
Truth Waters: He’s let his chance slip away – now Shipley can move in for the kill!
”SHIP-LEY! SHIP-LEY! SHIP-LEY!”
Truth Waters: The crowd want it!
Outside the structure, Lavelle is backing away slowly up the ramp, his eyes peeled as he closely watches what appears to be the conclusion of this match. As an added complication, Tim Martin gets to his feet, deciding all is not lost.
Truth Waters: That’s Martin getting up!
George Cassidy: Tim Martin? I thought he was a lost cause!
Jack Murphy stands tall on the top of the structure, assessing the situation – and then moves over to grab the green briefcase.
Truth Waters: Murphy’s got it!
George Cassidy: The Grand Slam Package for the deserving Bull! One year’s worth of title shots! And he could win them all. We have a potential first Grand Slammer in Jack Murphy, I can tell you!
Truth Waters: Maybe he belongs in the slammer, with his archaic views on gender inequality…
James Brunt: The winner of the Grand Slam Package, JACK “THE BULL” MURPHY!
The crowd boos heavily as Murphy collapses to slouch on the mesh of the green triangle, too tired to make his way over to the exit ladder and quite happy to witness the final outcome. Tim Shipley looks out from his perch, eyes glistening with sweat and excitement as he picks his moment. He knows what he wants to do.
Truth Waters: Pierce Lavelle and Jack Murphy the two winners so far, then, with only the mystery prize remaining! Shipley or Dick?
George Cassidy: Or Tim Martin, even?
As Tim Martin, eagle-eyed, rushes up the ladder he has quickly put in place and leaps to grasp the tail of the bungee rope, Shipley makes a leap of his own – down, forwards, taking the rope with both hands and wrapping his legs around it. He’s accurate, spinning round to the other side of the rope as it extends downwards – more than the Englishman expected; he’d reckoned without the added weight of Tim Martin. With over 500 pounds suddenly added to its load, the rope stretches alarmingly, Martin deposited safely on his feet as Adam Dick also hits the floor – and now, this is it for Shipley. The bounce.
It’s what he’s expecting; it’s what he’s calculated for – but the extra rebound afforded by Martin now needs to come speedily into his thinking. One moment of no movement, and then suddenly the rope jerks upward, flinging Shipley, Dick and Martin up, and Shipley lets go, flying through the hatch and the air, a yard in height clear of the cage before he lands with a bump on the BLUE triangle and rolls over and over before coming to a halt just at the edge.
The rope still moving around vigorously, Dick climbs like a madman, desperate now to get through that hatch before Shipley can come to and claim the prize that’s just a few feet from him. But Shipley ignores the searing pains all over his body, rolling over and onto his hands and knees, crawling the yard or two necessary before laying his hands on the briefcase with a giant question-mark on it.
James Brunt: The winner of the mystery prize, TIM SHIPLEY!
Truth Waters: SHIPLEY HAS DONE IT!
The FedEx Forum explodes.
George Cassidy: Dick comes away empty-handed! I don’t believe it!
Truth Waters: Pierce Lavelle, Jack Murphy, Tim Shipley! All current title-holders in AWC and all winners tonight in the Triangles match!
Tim Martin, exhausted, drops off the end of the rope – the damage as he hits the floor surely can’t add any more gravity to the hurt he’s already sustained. But Adam Dick doesn’t give up like that. Scrambling through the hole, he stomps over to Shipley, who is down in the same fashion as Jack Murphy, complete and utter exhaustion having overcome him along with the elation of winning. Dick has something else in mind for him.
George Cassidy: Eaterplex time!
Pulling Shipley to his feet, he pulls his arm through between his legs and lifts him up, slamming him brutally to the rooftop with the Eaterplex ’05. The blue briefcase goes skittling across the mesh, and Murphy holds out a hand to stop it, before rising to his feet with a grin as Dick now collapses too. Holding a briefcase in each hand, The Bull moves slowly over towards Shipley and bends down to study his face. He holds up the blue briefcase in his left hand, and on his words, we close.
Jack Murphy: I think you dropped something…