Welcome to FIGHT!

STATIC

 

The white noise breaks and Jim Acosta from CNN is seen sitting on an older version of the CNN set. He’s dressed in a very modest navy suit, with a crisp off white shirt and brownish tie. 

 

Jim Acosta: “In other news today, the Hearst Tower located in midtown Manhattan and a heartbeat away from the legendary Hell’s Kitchen, which has served as the hub of the Hearst communications since its inception has, believe it or not, been sold. How does a media conglomerate as large as Hearst up and decide to sell its home out of the blue? Sources say that the sale has been on the table for the better of two years, but staff who worked in the building were only made aware of it this morning, when they were told to begin packing their things to make the move to a new location by the end of the week. 

 

What is even more unusual is the level of construction going on within the building. Our camera crews counted at least 15 different crews from various companies which include every known type of tradesman. Keeping in mind that the original structure, the base of the tower, has been land marked, the extent of the work they are doing beneath the tower, which was added in 2003, has left many with questions that no one seems to know who to ask. 

 

The building was originally designed to be a theater which would sit at the epicenter of what was imagined to be the entertainment center of New York, but was put on hold due to the Great Depression. It shares the neighborhood with many well known establishments such as The Lotus club, and The American Fine Arts Society. 

 

Whether or not the new owners of the Hearst tower will add to this lore of midtown Manhattan or detract from it is left to be seen. But for now, one can only imagine that the old New York, is about to get a transfusion of new.“

 

STATIC

 

A security camera focuses and shifts, zooming in on a limo that has pulled up to a large set of velvet ropes. Two large men in black suits step up to the car and before they can open the door, it opens and out steps Paul Montuori, The OPW Southern Champion. The belt glittering on his shoulder, the two men each touch their ear and communicate to someone on the other end of their radio system. Montuori pushes past them and makes his way inside the entrance door which is located on Eight avenue. As he crosses the threshold, the footage transfers to an interior camera. Two more men in black suits await as well as a blonde woman in a black suit as well. She stretches her hand to welcome Montuori but he barely acknowledges her. 

 

Miss F: Mr. Montuori. My name is Miss F., and may I be the first person to say ‘Welcome home.’ In a moment I will be escorting you to your personal locker room. But first, I am going to need you to turn over your OPW Southern Championship. 

 

Paul Montuori:..the hell I will.

 

Miss F: While I understand your point of view, that title was in fact worthless the second you entered this building. As will the Immortal, Prestige, and every OPW title.

 

Paul Montuori: So what happens to the belts?

 

Miss F does not respond, she simply smiles and places her hands out, glimpsing at the title on his shoulder and then back at him. 

 

Miss F: Please. 

 

Montuori pulls the title off his shoulder, looking at it one last time, before placing it into her hands. She is stunned by the heft of it, and even lets out a comical “off” before handing it over to one of her accompanying gentlemen. 

 

Miss F: Follow me please. 

 

Miss F begins to walk down the hallway. A 2 foot wide black strip with borders of dimmed light is present on both sides of the corridor, as well as the ceiling. Montuori points to it and before he can ask, Miss F answers. 

 

Miss F: What you’re seeing is our state of the art camera system, called Occhi. Inside each of these strips are the most advanced camera and sound system on the planet. Fish eyes lenses which are capable of 360 focus, as well as 10x zoom and the ability to travel the length of the strip as well as seamlessly transfer from one to the other. As you can see there is one on the ceiling, as well as the wall. There are many other very sophisticated features I could go on and on about, but you will only feel paranoid by the info.

 

Paul Montuori: Big brother shit. For real.

 

Miss F: Tell me Mr. Montuori, did you get into this business not to be seen? I think that’s the antithesis of this all, is it not? And of all people here, you are the least camera shy. 

 

Miss F steps to the side and swipes a card against a backlit box on the wall outside a door. The backlight color changes from white to green, and a mechanical door sound is heard, Echoing down the empty corridor.

 

Miss F: This is your personal locker room. As you can see, it is stocked with all of the amenities you could ask for. It is coded to a card that will give you, and only you, access. Should you decide to add others, all you would need to do is access your account and add said individuals to your approved list.

 

Montuori enters the room and looks around. A full sized fridge sits in the corner of a small kitchenette, a bed sits in the opposite corner, and a small seating area sits just a foot away from a small private bathroom, shower included. Running his fingers along the chairs, he sees that the leather on them is as soft as butter, and is visibly impressed.

 

Miss F: Please, make yourself at home. We are waiting on the remainder of the roster to arrive, at which point the night can begin. If you require anything, please press the button on the side of the desk, and we’ll get it to you as soon as possible. Good luck tonight, Mr. Montuori.

 

Paul Montuori: Good Lu-

 

The door shuts and Miss F can be heard walking away. Montuori suddenly realizes that she did not give him a card to leave the office, and watches as the small access point on the inside of the room changes its backlight from white, to red.

 

Time passes which is of course expressed through the fast turning of clock hands, despite the fact that most clocks are digital these days. As the hands turn to eight, the screen changes to OPW.com which then redirects us to another website. The screen fades in and a logo can be seen.

 

The feed switches seamlessly to a series of cameras which all show different combatants sitting in their respective locker rooms. Some, like Enforcer, are seated in their chairs, reading off their tablets or phones. Others, like Dollface, pace the floor, turning over furniture surrounding them. One by one, the screen becomes more crowded with footage of the FIGHT! Roster. As each member is introduced it begins to make up a much larger picture. As the picture gets fuller, it also gets smaller, until it is no longer the focal point but a detail in the background of a live shot. Standing in the halls of the FIGHT! tower, Miss F looks into the camera, and addresses the world for the first time.

 

Miss F:‘Before tonight begins and you become familiar with what we are…I would like you to introduce you to who we are. We are Fight! Nyc. The most advanced promotion in the game today. My name is Miss F. I am the head liaison here at Fight. While there are those who are above me, those who give me my marching orders, I can assure you that when my voice speaks, it is with the power of the gods. Or a god, as I’ve been instructed to say. Besides myself, you will also know my assistant, a woman some of you may know, and others will come to know, by the name of Serotonin.”

 

Serotonin walks into frame, and smiles largely. The comments begin to fly by on the bottom of the screen ranging from ‘oh no m8 not h3r’ to ‘hellzzzzzzyezzzz’.

 

Miss F: “Together we shall be responsible for all of the handlers that will be assigned to the FIGHT! roster, should they wish. Some of them have personal assistants, and that is fine. But should they wish to have an official one assigned by us, they merely need to ask.”

 

Miss F: ‘While these changes are exciting they are also not the only ones we have in store. Fight intends to be the biggest thing in the fight game going, and we’ve got a great roadmap to get there. Of course, every great journey starts with the first step, And the time for that first step is now…

 

Miss F:Attention Please. In a moment, the doors to your room will unlock. Once this occurs, you will be allowed to move freely about the arena. In doing so you will run into one or two of your fellow combatants, and do keep in mind that everyone you meet, friend or enemy, or stranger, will have a price on their head. A price that is in your best interest to try to collect.

 

Miss F:It doesn’t matter how you do so, by KO, Submission, or pin. Or where you do so, in the ring, in the hall, in the locker rooms. All that matters is that you do it first. Do so and claim the amount of Blood Money placed on their head. The person who has accumulated the most when the timer goes off will be declared the winner, and I assure you, it is in your best interest to be that person. So without further ado, I ask you to do what you have come to do; What you are paid to do; What you were born to do;”

Caged Animals

The room we find ourselves in is simple, the occupants of it are decidedly not. If the mere act of walking could carve through the solidness of the floor beneath him Vincent Black would have paced a trench through the floor of the small well appointed living room as he prowled back and forth. At the end of one of his circuits he pauses to crack his neck in an attempt to release some of the tension that has seeped into the set of his shoulders. His new bride seems oblivious to the rising tension of her husband as she sits cross legged on the floor of the room staring intently at the locked door before her with its shining red beacon beside it to indicate to the occupants of this room that they were caged until whomever was in charge of the nights events saw fit to set them free. Vincent Black was not a man who enjoyed being caged and communicated this by snarling at the light beside the door each time that his circuit behind Vhodka brought him back to it.

 

Vincent Black: It’s broken. 

 

Vhodka Black: It’s not broken, Vin.

 

Vincent Black: It’s X.

 

Vhodka Black: It’s not X, Vin.

 

Vincent Black: He’s doing this on purpose. Probably everyone else is already out of their rooms. Probably didn’t even lock them in rooms, just let them have the run of the place. 

 

Vincent stops in his circuit to stand beside Vhodka on the floor, his chin tipped down to stare at the unusually relaxed form of his wife below him. 

 

Vincent Black: Why are you so calm?

 

Vhodka Black: It doesn’t matter to me what could be happening while we’re locked in here. All that matters is that eventually they will unlock that door and when that happens I can do what I came here to do. 

 

The Phrq opens his mouth to speak again but is cut off abruptly by the sudden interruption of the song “Jolene” by Dolly Parton being played loudly out of a recessed speaker in the wall. Vhodka and Vincent both turn their heads to the sound with Vhodka pointing in the speaker’s direction. 

 

Vhodka Black: Now, that was X. 

 

The song’s chorus drones on as the unmistakable sound of a lock being pulled cuts above the nose as the red light suddenly transitions to green. The door before them clicks open on its own, a sliver of the hallway before them shown through the crack. Vincent reaches his hand down to help Vhodka stand but draws it back when she turns back to the door, making no move to stand. 

 

Vhodka Black: Go find the kids, I’ve got something I need to do. 

 

Her words hang heavy in the air as Vincent takes inventory of the implications of them. The two stare at one another for a moment before Vincent nods his head and moves toward the door. At the last minute he turns around and bends down, kissing his wife on the top of her head. He straightens with one hand on the doorknob calling out over his shoulder as he exits. 

 

Vincent Black: If you kill her we have to raise my children. 

 

And with that parting remark Vincent Black is gone, moving through the halls of the building as we are left with only the waiting figure of Vhodka who remains cross legged on the floor staring out the open doorway. Vincent moves with purpose through the building seemingly with a destination already in mind, he moves down each corridor with what seems to be little regard for what could be lurking ahead until he comes to a blind corner and slows his pace to a standstill, cocking his head to the side to listen intently at the soft whispering sounds coming from just around the corner. Vincent steps back against the wall and waits as the voices get closer. Almost simultaneously we see the petite form of Noelle Rivers round the corner with JJ Starfire, Pixie Sloane and Asher Jules at her back. She lets out a yelp the second that she realizes the four are not alone and jumps back hitting into the chest of the much larger JJ Starfire who does his best to steady her while everyone goes on the defensive. 

 

Noelle Rivers:  Jesus Fuck!

 

Vincent Black: Does he? 

Lets Go Down And FIGHT Them All

Paul Montuori steps out his eyes darting from side to side, looking to see who he’s around. The words ‘biggest dog’ appear on the scroll bar, as Paul carefully steps out.

 

Tommy Kain appears from his left, and almost gets laid out due to his sudden appearance and Paul’s absolute readiness to lay something out.

 

Thomas Kain: So now we just fight? Like…you and me?

 

Paul Mont: Don’t be…don’t be you. Ok? We’re not fighting each other. We need to find Joe and Michelle, and start on someone else. Then we worry about each other. Got it?

 

Tommy Kain: Lead the way.

 

As Paul and Tommy Kain turn they stop in their tracks. They look to each other and then look back to what it was that made them pause. And as they do, so do we. Standing in front of them is Dane Preston, and Murphy Doyle Maher. Preston with his face scraggly and eyes as intense as anyone has ever seen them, and Murphy, his dirty blonde hair pulled into a bun at the top of his head. But not like a Samurai, but like something a librarian would have. Both men are dressed in brown pants with black boots, and both men smile largely as they see Paul and Tommy Kain.

 

Paul steps forward, and eases a smile across his face. Looking at Dane and Murphy, he holds out his hand and looks at Dane.

 

Paul Montuori: Come on. Preston. Be my first dance partner.

 

Dane Preston: I’d love to. Afterall, this is my favorite song.

 

Paul and Preston step up to each other, and begin to circle each other, each looking at the other with a fierceness that could be measured in pounds. Each waiting for the other to make the first move, or the first mistake. Murphy and Tommy Kain step up to each other, and whispers of ‘do you hear music?’ and ‘I was gonna ask you the same thing.’ are heard by Paul and Dane. And then, Paul raises his fist, and the night truly begins.

 

Paul clocks Preston with a right hand, staggering him but angering him. Dane fires back with a blindside jab that snaps Paul’s head to the side and back. Tommy Kain pushes Murphy away from him and throws a fist that Murph ducks, but catches the elbow of across his cheek. Tommy Kain tries to follow with a left uppercut, but Murphy avoids it by throwing his head back and as soon as Tommy Kain’s hand is out of the way, launches his head forward for a solid connecting head butt. Tommy Kain backs off, half laughing but mostly pissed at how hard that hit. With Tommy Kain backed off and Dane staggered by a combination from Paul, Murphy and Paul realize they are standing directly next to each other. They both open their mouths to speak at the same time. Murphy to say ‘Thought you’d quit by now.’ and Paul attempts to say ‘Are you lost? This is for fighters.’ But neither get the chance to speak, as Paul is clotheslined by Dane and Murphy is drop kicked by Tommy Kain. Murphy, Paul and Dane all fly out of the side frames of the shot, and Tommy Kain falls out of it after the dropkick.

Training Day

Vincent Black has taken point lead on the group of mental mentees and is leading them down what appears to be an ordinary hallway with rows of doors on either side. As they reach each door one of the group behind his large form peels off and does a check of the empty rooms to either side, calling out the word “check” as each room is cleared. Most of the hallway is methodically cleared of any impending dangers and they seem to all be working well together up until this point with the four much younger and inexperienced kids happy to take the direction of the skilled veteran. As the group reaches the last few doors on this hallway, JJ Starfire peels off to complete his room check, stepping inside of an open doorway and disappearing from the line of sight of the rest of the group. Suddenly, JJ lets out a startled yip from within the room as the attention of his group is snapped to the open doorway. The looming form of Dark Tiger steps through holding a dazed JJ Starfire by the scruff of his neck. Behind them Lisa Marie Ashton follows with the base of what was formerly a very nice but very heavy lamp in her hands. 

 

Dark Tiger: You should keep your pup on a leash. 

 

Noelle Rivers: You should have left the hooker in your hotel room. 

 

Lisa Marie Ashton’s face flames red as she steps forward toward the much smaller woman a few short feet away. Noelle completely ignores her ire only further enraging the Mafia Queen Bitch. Dark Tiger looks between the two women before casting his gaze back at Vincent Black. 

 

Dark Tiger: Might I suggest a muzzle for that one. 

 

Vincent Black shrugs his shoulders as Asher and Pixie move further away from each other to give themselves more room for what they assume is coming. Lisa Marie Aston’s eyes have narrowed down into a slit aimed directly at Noelle Rivers as she rotates the broken lamp base in her hands.

 

Vincent Black: She keeps chewing through them. 

 

With an unexpected suddenness Dark Tiger releases JJ Starfire, putting some force behind it to throw him at the feet of Vincent Black before him. JJ lands on his hands and knees but quickly gets himself upright enough to scurry behind the human meat shield of his mentor and friends where he leans against the wall to shake his head free of the remaining cobwebs from the lamp blow bestowed upon him by Lisa Marie Ashton. 

 

Vincent Black: You’re a good man, Dark Tiger, one of the best of us. Which is why I hate to do this. 

 

Dark Tiger opens his mouth to respond but before the words can pass through his lips Asher Jules rushes forward catching Dark Tiger around his thighs in what seems to be an effort to take him off of his base. Lisa Marie Ashton surges forward toward Noelle Rivers swinging the lamp base at her head like she’s aiming for the fences. As Asher bounces off the tree-like body of Dark Tiger, Vincent moves in forward with a rush connecting his fist into the large man’s solar plexus. Dark Tiger doubles over precisely in time for Jason Ryan to fly through the air, leapfrogging off of the back of the bent over Dark Tiger to clothesline Vincent Black to the ground. Noelle Rivers is down, her body jerking with each blow that Lisa Marie Ashton delivers to her back with the lamp. Pixie rushes forward grabbing the lamp out of the hands of Ashton as she brings it up over her head for a strike, then kicks her foot into Ashton’s back sending her crashing face first into the wall while behind her JJ Starfire and Asher Jules struggle with the much larger and more experienced Dark Tiger. In the melee Vincent Black seems to have laid out Jason Ryan sending him crashing through the open door of a room on his left side, only his feet left visible to us through the doorway. Vincent begins to turn towards the inexperienced fighters behind him only to stop as his eye catches Brandon Moore moments before Moore connects a solid wood baseball bat to Vincent’s knee sending him to the ground. 

Where The Wild Ones Go

Our view shifts to a shot of Druscilla White, reacting as the access point scanner in her room suddenly from red to green with a subtle beep. Quickly the screen splits into two, and in the other frame we can see Graham Clauson experiencing the same. It doubles again, this time Anicka Swan appears below Graham Clauson and Shawn Warstein appears below Druscilla White. They each curiously peer out of the door and into the hallway, wary of what they might find.

 

The four images begin to merge into one as Clauson walks into the shot where Anicka Swan’s door is.

 

Graham Clauson: The inimitable. Your reputation precedes you.

 

Anicka Swan: Yours doesn’t. Ani has no fucking clue who you are.

 

And with that slight, all bets are off. They are throwing hell for leather at each other, the inaugural OPW Immortal Champion and the one that has felt disrespected ever since he came to OPW. Swan drives his head against the wall, grinding it against the abrasive surface.

 

Across the way, Shawn Warstein and Druscilla White are watching on, with smiles on their faces.

 

Druscilla White: Oh. So it isn’t a friendly get together with ‘smores, then.

 

Shawn Warstein: Guess not. Wanna join in?

 

Before either of them had a chance to follow through on that, a ruckus from behind them caught them flatfooted as Austin Ramsey, Todrick Tabor and Ricky Rodriguez burst through into the corridor. Warstein looks at Druscilla, Druscilla looks back, they exchange a silent pact, nod their heads, bite down and start throwing.

 

Warstein drives an elbow in to the jaw of Austin Ramsey and backs him up against a wooden door, using his foot to kick out at Ricky Rodriguez and send him a few steps backward. They’re moving at speed. Meanwhile, Druscilla has her hands around the throat of Todrick Tabor. All of the fighting thus far amongst these foes is very hand-to-hand, rather than professional wrestling. They are not in a ring, though, so perhaps that’s to be expected.

 

Back with Graham Clauson and Anicka Swan, they’ve managed to make it to a storage cupboard and Clauson is rifling through the cupboard looking for something to whack Swan with. Abruptly, the door slams shut on his skull, as The Enforcer appears.

 

Enforcer: Ani. Found you. You good?

 

Anicka Swan: Ani is good. This miserable bastard though..

 

Graham Clauson: Even when the Syndicate’s dead they still find a way to fuck you over.

 

Clauson is rubbing his head as he pulls himself up from his ass, and makes after Enforcer and Swan who had started to walk away.

 

As they round a corner, and Clauson comes bolting after, all of a sudden we see Clauson get totalled again. He’s wiped out by a guy, slender and lithe, wearing what seems to be a dinosaur mask. The guy didn’t intend to knock him over, he just happened to be turning and his trailing leg caught The Shoot King.

 

Clauson’s pride is hurt more than his body, and he starts to pull himself to his feet.

 

Graham Clauson: What the fuck? Are you some kind of intermission entertainment or something? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something..?

 

The Dinosaur masked guy turns around, and looks down at Clauson through the mask. He begins to speak but its barely comprehensible through the mask

 

Dave: Oh hi! I’m Dave!

 

Graham Clauson: Dabe? What’s a Dabe?

 

Druscilla White reappears, stumbling backwards. Standing over her is a tall blond woman, one that OPW fans will certainly POP for! That would be The Crimson Queen, Sahara. She has a snarling look on her face as she backs up Druscilla. Evidently, she had already had her way with her to some degree, given that Druscilla was struggling to stay on her feet. A series of strikes followed to the dome of The Prophet and then she grabs a front facelock and drives her skull into the wall.

 

Sahara: Keep it up, pretty girl, keep getting back up. I can do this all day.

 

Dave the Dinosaur wanders over to Sahara, trying to avoid the angry tone of Graham Clauson.

 

Dave: Hi I’m Dave.

 

Sahara: Fuck off Dave.

 

She barely breaks stride as she kicks off the wall and superman punches him in the mask. As she walks around one corner, the camera cuts around another corner where we find that Shawn Warstein has gotten himself into a bit of a problem with Anicka Swan and The Enforcer, who have him cornered and are driving boots into his abdomen. Ricky Rodriguez is also putting in a few boots for good measure.

 

As Warstein is getting the everliving piss kicked out of him he catches something in the corner of his eye, a messy mop of auburn hair, a leather jacket, a twisted upper lip. He is groaning but he utters the word.

 

Shawn Warstein: Dick…ie…

 

And in that moment, The Molotov darts across the short distance between him and Shawn Warstein. He grabs a handful of Anicka Swan’s hair and throws her aggressively to the floor, Enforcer takes a swift boot to the side of the skull and Ricky Rodriguez took the second grace afforded to him by being third in the queue to get out of dodge. Warstein was cut on the lip, sitting prone on his backside, and looked up at Dickie, who smiled wide and exaggerated a cockney accent as he spoke to the one person in this building that he had crossed paths with before.

 

Dickie Watson: Fancy seein’ you here. ALRIGHT MATE?

The Team That Hunts Together

Cutting away, we find Apathy standing in the doorway of her dressing room. She looks over her soldiers. Korrupt, Eoin, and her newest recruit, Dollface. She whispers something to them, something the most expensive microphone system in the world doesn’t detect. And in a flash, they scatter. Korrupt rushes down one hallway, Eoin another, and Dollface another still. Apathy mutters beneath her breath  ‘dammit Caleb.’

 

Korrupt goes down a stairwell, and we cut to Eoin, who is searching locker rooms for stragglers. Dollface walks slowly down the hallway, and then carefully steps to the side of the hall, pressing herself against the wall as flat as she can. From the bathroom, Dark Tiger appears. He balls up a wad of paper towels, and throws them to the floor. Turning toward the hallway, he is instead greeted by a mouth full of broken teeth covered in a viscous black ooze. He searches the face for a set of eyes to meet and when he does, he feels the sting of the black liquid coat his eyes. He lurches backward and almost trips over his own feet as Dollface takes in the enjoyment of watching him squirm in agony. She holds her hand up to her ear, and whispers ‘got one’. Our perspective changes and we see that Dollface is equipped with a bluetooth headset. Eoin is then cut to, and he stops in his tracks. Korrupt is then shown, and he does as well. ‘Where’ a voice asks. ‘Right down the hall. Hurry.’ Eoin and Korrupt both take off back to where they came from, as we cut back to Dollface, who is now joined by Apathy.

 

Dollface: “For you.”

 

Apathy: “No. you take this one. I’d like to save myself for Mr. Right.”

 

Dollface laughs, and tilts her head, watching as DT tries to desperately get the goo out of his eyes, cursing all the while. Dollface walks up to him. And lifts the man to his feet. DT tries to swing, but she ducks it almost effortlessly, grinning all the while, a liquid as black as night and as thick as syrup oozing out the corners of her mouth all the while. DT throws another blind punch, but this one hits a wall, and you can tell by the yelp he releases that he hurt his hand something fierce. But not as fierce as Dollface is about to, as she grabs his hurt hand, pulls it behind his back, and begins to twist the finger that was impacted back against its natural form. He tries to reach back to grab her, but her head moves to and fro far too quick. It’s at this point that Eoin and Korrupt show up. Each taking a stance next to Apathy.

 

They watch as Dark Tiger fights, only to have Dollface avoid it. Bored of the game, Dollface reaches down and grabs his foot. Still grasping his hand, she pulls the foot and sends Dark Tiger down to the floor with a thud, face first variety. Barely conscious, Dollface scoots over to his face on her knees, ripping her already torn leggings further. She looks at the face of Dark Tiger, and then grabs his ears. Using her knees, she does her best to rearrange it as Apathy laughs slightly, and her cohorts are jealous wildly.

 

A voice comes over the PA system, and causes Dollface to halt her endeavor to listen.

 

Dark Tiger. Eliminated. KO. By Dollface.

 

Dollface drops his face to the floor, and backs off, angry by the end of her fun. Apathy walks over, and places a hand on the side of her face, looking into her eyes and saying ‘No one told you to stop.’ Dollface smiles largely giving us and the others a closer look at the jagged shards making up her mouth. Dropping to her knees, she lifts Devin’s unconscious head, and screams into his ear ‘NOT SO BIG NOW’ as she slams his head repeatedly against the floor. Korrupt smiles at the sight, as does Eoin. Apathy then kneels down and whispers ‘save some for the rest of them. You have another job to do, don’t you?’

 

Dollface lets go of DT and stands up, shaking her head. The Cure gathers itself and begins to move down the hall, as Dark Tiger lays motionless on the floor. From the lifeless face of Dark Tiger we switch to the –

Picking a Favorable Fight

The shot changes to the interior of an elevator, one that has been occupied by Todrick Tabor, Austin Ramsey and Ricky Rodriguez.

 

Ricky Rodriguez: I’m telling you, we stick together and we are invincible.

 

Todrick Tabor: I back us to win!

 

As they continue their conversation, the door on the elevator pings and opens. As the door opens, it is like the door to an entirely different dimension. What awaits them draws a look of abject horror to each of their faces. Brandon Moore is covered in blood, the whole room is covered in blood. There are bodies everywhere. To a loyal viewer, they might recognize some of these people as members of the Koresh family.

 

Austin Ramsey: OH MY GOD!!

 

Brandon Moore snarls, pulling his mask down over his face once more and starts slowly and methodically marching toward the elevator.

 

Ricky Rodriguez: Press the button! Any floor, anywhere but here! Damn..

 

As the doors are closing, an unmistakeable sight. A focused, determined looking red headed Matriarch steps past the carnage, without so much as a second glance, as she enters the stairwell. The door closes.

 

Todrick Tabor: Tell me that wasn’t VooDoo walkin around there in that mess?

 

The elevator kicks into life and starts moving down. It drops a couple of floors, however before it gets to the first level, the one that had been requested, it stops on the fifth floor. The doors swing open and a ball of raging bodies fly into the elevator. There are some beards, some growls, some expletives.

 

Joe Montuori: You’ll never make her love you like she loves me!

 

Dane Preston and Joe Montuori both have a thai clinch on the other and are digging underhooks, Murphy Doyle Maher has a handful of Tommy Kain’s beard, and they’re also squashed into the elevator for space. Todrick, Austin and Ricky start trying to fight their way through the sea of bodies.

 

They make it through the swarm of bodies, eventually, and Dane Preston also manages to make it clear of the melee, shutting Joe Montuori into the elevator on his own. Paul Montuori appears and bellclaps Dane Preston, who ducks down out of instinct, right into a lifting knee strike. Some pro wrestling happenin’ up in here. Austin smirks, looks at the man who retained the Southern Belt last week, and then decks him.

 

Michelle looks across at Ricky Rodriguez, it seems like they’re on opposite sides of a conflict. She smirks at him, but then suddenly feels self conscious, and turns it into a scowl.

 

It doesn’t take long for Todrick to start corralling his husband and Ricky together again. Ricky seems reluctant to leave, but this isn’t the fight they’re looking for. Michelle turns away, looking down at Dane Preston doubled over, and she starts paintbrushing him…

Lend Me Your Eyes

Apathy walks the halls, swaying as if she’s on a leisurely stroll through the park on a cool night. Checking her manicure, she presses her hand against her ear and calls out for a status report. The first one to answer is Eoin. Standing off to the side by a doorway, he looks out and watches as FYA does their best to try and stop Dynasty from over running them, a task they are obviously moments away from losing.

 

Eoin: Watching Dynasty and The FYA people. Still fighting it out. It’s getting bad, but not bad enough for us to jump in, I think.

 

Korrupt can be seen perched in a staircase, looking down and out an open door that leads out into a hall. He tries his best to get a good view of the fight but his field of view is limited due to the height he’s at and the size of the door frame.

 

Korrupt: THEY are engaged. Fighting the young ones. The proteges. The british one, Asher, is not doing great against Dark Tiger. LMA is holding her own against Pixie. I can’t see much.

 

Dollface is sitting on the floor, indian style. Not hiding, not engaging, but watching from the open floor.

 

Dollface: Seeing this from the other side. JJ Starfire and Josiah Black, and I think that’s Noelle and Lisa Marie Ashton doing a terrible job at killing each other. But it’s just a lot of hair.

 

Korrupt: Wait…Vincent Black is also here, he’s fighting Brandon Moore. Jayson Ryan is also here, and he’s trying to take advantage of both but it’s not working.

 

Dollface: Korrupt. I’m coming to you…I need you to run a distraction to get me there.

 

Apathy: Listen to her. Run out there and start attacking everyone. Dollface, you said you could do this. Don’t let me down. Thi-

 

Apathy looks up and finds a woman standing across from her, with her hands behind her back. Next to her is a man, a bag of chips in his hands. Had this been any woman other than the woman it was, she wouldn’t have cared. Had this man been any other man than the man it was, she wouldn’t have minded. But this wasn’t any woman, and it wasn’t any man. This was Anicka Swan, and the fucking Enforcer.

 

The bag of chips dropped and Anicka’s hands came out from behind her back, appearing all tapped up and ready for barefisted boxing, which is her second favorite thing to do with bare hands. Apathy sighs, and smiles. 

 

Apathy: On second thought, I’m going to need back up.

 

Enforcer and Anicka rush forward and as they are about to reach Apathy, the feed cuts to Graham Clauson getting rocked to the jaw.

Stairs are Dangerous

The camera switches to a stairwell, where we find Dickie Watson and Graham Clauson trading blows as they go up the stairs. Sahara is punching Anicka Swan and the Enforcer has Shawn Warstein in a headlock.

 

Warstein shoves Enforcer off of him and down the flight of stairs. The former OPW Prestige Champion stays on his feet, laughs and calls Warstein down. Warstein obliges, launching himself feet first and completely wiping out Enforcer, sending both of them crashing into a door which rips off its hinges.

 

Dickie and Clauson are going tooth and nail, but from seemingly nowhere, Mason Alexander Vanderbilt arrives. He grips hold of Clauson and whips him to the ground in a german suplex, Dickie starts to tie up with him and he ducks under him and hits a urinagi suplex.

 

Mason Alexander Vanderbilt: Where is Amari?

 

Inside the door where Warstein and Enforcer had burst through, there were more people fighting. Dave the Dinosaur emerges, and starts trying to talk to people once again. He grabs Warstein and asks him if he’s okay, but Warstein shoves him back with his boot.

 

Dickie Watson comes bounding through with a vicious clothesline, leaving the Dinosaur writing in pain on the floor.

 

Dave: Roarrrrr…. oww..

 

Dickie grins, then turns his attention to Warstein. Warstein gets to his feet quickly, anticipating Watson being opportunistic. Dickie grins, and turns his back on Warstein. Warstein shakes his head, grabs hold of Enforcer from the floor and throws him down the next flight of stairs.

 

As he turned around, Warstein sprinted toward Dave the Dinosaur and hit him with KING’S CROWN, a flying knee/kick type thing to the skull.

 

Dave. Eliminated by KO. Shawn Warstein.

 

Clauson gets to his feet, rubbing his head from the German Suplex, and grabs hold of Mason Alexander Vanderbilt. Sahara pushes Anicka into Clauson, and the three of them take a tumble in the stairs, landing a flight lower where Enforcer is.

 

A terrifying thud is heard as another door comes off its hinges, and JJ Starfire appears, being carried by the momentum of Amari Kent driving him through the door. How that happened, given the size disparity, is open to interpretation. Starfire, the door, and Amari Kent land on top of Sahara, Enforcer, Clauson and Swan, and then the door manages to slide down another flight of stairs, carrying Amari and Starfire with it.

 

Mason Alexander Vanderbilt has a bit between his teeth, he dives over the slew of bodies, with one thing in mind. He didn’t care what it cost him, he was going to get Amari Kent back for what happened in the final OPW show.

 

The bodies were now strewn across three floors. Zooming out, we see Warstein and Watson stood at the top of the stairs eyeing the chaos. Warstein shakes his head and walks off. Dickie Watson, on the other hand, starts to traverse the bodies and staircase like parkour. The only one left standing is Mason Alexander Vanderbilt, who has just sinched Amari Kent up in a painful looking submission hold he calls the ALL AMERICANA, and Dickie runs along the railing and jumps on the back of Mason’s head for CALAMITY INSURANCE.

 

Mason Alexander Vanderbilt. Eliminated by KO. Dickie Watson.

Ain't No Party

Murphy Doyle Maher and Dane Preston back up to a dead end, and look at each other. Both worse for the wear, and bleeding from a few different spots, they stare at Joe Montuori, Paul Montuori, Miss Michelle, and Tommy Kain. They surround them, and begin to strut towards them, and out of the shadows a baseball bat collides with Michelles back, and Allison Riggs steps forward, Attempting to talk shit but immediately back elbowed by Tommy Kain. Joe screams out ‘THATS MY WIFE’ And attempts to grab Tommy Kain, but Sahara grabs Joe’s arm and pulls him into a german suplex that sends him into the wall instead of the floor. Paul and Dane rush each other and begin to go back to what they had started earlier. Tommy Kain is then ripped off his feet by a running tackle by MDM. But while Murphy is slow to get up, Tommy Kain is faster on his feet, and grabs the bat that ARP had dropped and shoves the handle into Murph’s forehead. As Murphy falls, Tommy Kain stands. But only for a moment, as Amari Kent levels him with a running knee to the chest, and flips him over and onto his back. Amari reaches down and helps Murphy up, to which Murphy responds ‘you’re Amara Kunt.’ Amara thinks about correcting him, but just decides to get back to the fight. Sahara and Joe go back and forth, with punches and kicks that both connect and are connected with.

 

But they are blood drunk. Joe Montuori, a man who was minutes away from retiring and is now back toward the top he has spent most of his life at, looks at this woman. This Allison wanna be who can’t be, and he is insulted. Insulted that she would dare make his love attack him and his friends. She probably pulled a switcheroo on him. Made him think it was Allison who hit hum when really it was her. He’d take as many punches to the face and his practically broken nose to make her pay for it. She would pay. They all would.

 

Sahara looked at the eyes of Joe Mont and did her best to try and bash them. This ancient has been who was trying to be once more, this lunatic who had somehow made it out of the ring and into a respectable business and yet came stumbling back. He worked for HBO. She had worked for HBO. But unlike him, it was her dream job and unlike him she had it ripped away. For all she knew he was how that happened. Stylez had taken the credit, but was it Joe who had done the deed? Was it his hand that held the scissors that cut her dream to ribbons? Ribbons. She was going to show him what a ribbon was, and she was going to wrap it around his ginzo neck and squeeze.

 

Paul Montuori crashes against the ground as Dane Preston heaves him into the air. The carpeting in this hall might as well be made of concrete, as well. Since the floor beneath was barely padded by it. Paul tried to get to his feet before Dane could press his attack but he was running low on oxygen on account of the floor knocking it out of him. Dane rushes at him, looking to drive an elbow into Paul’s back, but a kick from Tommy Kain sends him off target and Dane crashes into the wall, bouncing onto the floor next to Paul. Paul sits up and punches Dane in the jaw just as Dane was about to sit up. Falling to the floor, Dane and Paul begin an effort to kill the other while also laying down. Tommy Kain is about to rejoin the fight when his head is suddenly grabbed and driven into an awaiting knee. Allison Riggs stands over Tommy Kain and thinks about kicking him, but instead turns to help her husband. Grabbing Paul by the ankle, she attempts to apply a figure four but is taken off her feet by a sweep to her left leg the second she lifts her right. Tommy Kain tries to kick her in the face as she falls but she blocks it for the most part.

 

Murphy wipes a bit of blood away from his face as he stumbles toward Miss Michelle, who has his blood under her nails and is looking to make an additional withdrawal. Murphy Doyle whatever. Another man from the long line of men who think they can keep her down. Brothers and husbands and best friends oh mi. This wasn’t the time for additions to that list. It was time for subtraction. This business is a negative sum game. One for you means less for her. Michelle has done with less. And now she wants more. Of what? Whatever you got.

 

Murphy feels the blood drying in his beard, and he’s no longer in the most expensive boxing ring in the world disguised as a building from Minecraft. He’s back in Rikers yard, yelling at some guy with an open yap to close it before he either takes stuff from it, or puts something in it. He was in there for 10 fucking years. He was supposed to do five years. He was supposed to do a lot of things. Like not start fights with con and screw alike. He was supposed to be on his best behavior. He was supposed to never go to jail at all. He was supposed to be Kal X Wolf…or whoever his name was…He was supposed to be his protoge. He was supposed to be the next big thing. As he looked at michelle, he felt the sudden need to take the loss of all that out on her, and her pretty little blonde head. Not because he was supposed to, but because he wanted to.

 

Murphy threw a punch so had that he literally felt his muscles cry out. The kind of punch that should take a persons head off and remove it clean from their shoulders. But something got in the way. Something called Amari Kent. Crumpled at his feet, Murphy looked at him as if he’d just kicked a puppy, and before he could mutter a word of apology, he was laying next to him. Michelle had not notice the bat until Amari had tripped over it while trying to fight Tommy Kain. But she’d seen it then and swung it hard at Murphy, grazing his face with impact enough to send him downward. She raised the bat but was bumped from behind, and in her anger, she swung at whoever it was. Who it was, was Allison Riggs Preston.

 

Allison Riggs Preston. Eliminated via KO by Miss Michelle.

 

Crumbling to the floor, she was announced eliminated before she fully settled. Joe pushed Sahara way, Dane threw Paul off of him, and both looked with a look of horror. Dane rushed Michelle, damn near taking her head off her shoulders, and assaulting her in such a way you’d expect him to be wearing a badge. Joe ran over to Allison, and checked on her head, which wasn’t gushing with blood but was quite bigger than it had been. Joe called out to his brother, and asked for help. Paul looked at him like he couldn’t be serious, but Paul knew, he’d never been more so. Tommy Kain rushed Sahara to give them time, as Murphy and Amari tried to get to their feet to stop it. Paul and Joe begin to make their escape with Tommy Kain attempting to follow. But Sahara has other plans and the last thing Tommy Kain sees before hitting the ground is a boot with the word ‘Valhalla’ stitched into it.

 

Dane finally stops attacking Michelle long enough to notice Allison is gone, and so is the rest of Dynasty. As Preston dashes in the direction they’ve gone, Murphy does his best to try and keep up but Dane is like a bat out of hell. Amari, who sees Michelle barely moving sees his opportunity but does not see the door to the right of her slowly opening. As he approaches it, a foot collides with his head and sends him into the wall, falling to his knees and leaving him barely conscious.

 

Paul Montuori: Fuck outta here.

 

Scooping up Michelle, Paul takes her back through the conference room he just came out of, and shuts the door.

Numbers Game

Almost as if perfectly choreographed, the members of the Cure converge on one Anicka Swan and her former associate Enforcer who are making their way through a large conference room. Swan and Enforcer instinctually go back to back setting eyes on each member of the Cure that surrounds them. Enforcer surges forward going for Eoin O’Rourke in a barrage of strikes while Apathy grabs for Anicka Swan who does some parkour type shit off the wall catching Apathy with a boot to the face. 

 

A scuffle on the other side of the room draws the attention of Dollface to Dave the Dinosaur who stumbles in with Lisa Marie Ashton hot on his heels. Dollface quietly approaches behind Lisa Marie, stalking her prey like some sort of great beast before reaching up to grab the back on the woman’s head while jumping and driving both knees into her back. Lisa Marie goes down like a sack of bricks with Dollface staring at her motionless body on the floor before her. Dave the Dinosaur looks surprised at the assist, moving toward Dollface. 

 

Dave the Dinosaur: Hi, I’m Dave. Thanks for that.

 

Without warning Dollface releases a mist of her signature black ooze from her mouth blinding the friendly dinosaur who howls in pain. Without wasting any time Austin Ramsey, ever the opportunist, runs in out of nowhere hitting a running bulldog on Dave, effectively making him extinct. Austin rolls Dave onto the body of Lisa Marie Ashton to pick up the double elimination. 

 

Lisa Marie Ashton. Eliminated by KO. Austin Ramsey.

Dave. Eliminated by Extinction. Austin Ramsey.

 

Uhh. Correction. Dave the Dinosaur was not a valid competitor. Security. SECURITY. Please remove Dave from the competition.

 

Austin Ramsey stands and dusts a little imaginary dust off of his shoulder before turning to look at Dollface who is still standing beside the pile of bodies. 

 

Austin Ramsey: Don’t mistake me for as stupid as these two skid marks, I’m not going to fall for your shit so don’t even try it. 

 

Dollface cocks her head to the side as Austin looks at her smugly until she begins to back away. What Austin does not realize is that Dollface is not backing away in retreat, but rather giving a wide berth to the damage that was about to befall the man before her. In an act of violence that every office worker in the world wishes they could do at least once, the formerly smug Austin makes very fast friends with the lid of a copy machine that Graham Clauson has literally ripped off its hinges and turned into a weapon. Austin goes down but does not stop moving, so Graham, being known for being a well tempered rational person repeatedly slams the cover into Austin’s head over and over and over until the man before him lays in a motionless heap at his feet. 

 

Austin Ramsey. Eliminated by Obliteration. Graham Clauson.

A Taste For Black

Asher’s hair is more messed up than usual, JJ starfire’s eyes are red and swollen, Noelle’s cheeks are bruising more by the second and Pixie is kneeling on the floor, nursing an obviously dislocated hand. Vincent stands over them all, his own face worse for the ware. Obviously angry, he stews in his rage. ‘Brandon Moore and that other…whatever his name was. Slinking away..having to watch after these…Vhodka was…God dammit’

 

Vin Black: I want you on your feet. I want you ready. We are not done. We are not finished. We are only getting warmed up. This is the moment you have been told to be ready for. To be present and accounted for and seen as the future of this business. Because that is what we have asked of you. What we demand. I know it’s hard. I know you want to lay down and die, but you are fighters. You are warriors who have seen hell and kept walking through it. Hell is…Hell, is…

 

Dollface: Beeehhinnndddd yoouuuuu.

 

Vin spins to find Dollface hanging from a door frame behind him, upside down like some demonic spider man. Once again she launches a glob of her signature spit into his open eyes, and then plants a kick to his chest right after. Vin Black falls hard and fast and before Dollface knows it, The Fetal Four, the so-called Protoge’s, are all standing, and standing between them. But they are all waiting for someone else to make the first move. Asher nods at JJ and JJ looks at him like he’s crazy. Pixie looks at Noelle, who honestly just looks bored. Asher takes a deep breath, and screams but doesn’t move. They all look at him, and he just shrugs, having hoped it would make someone move first. And then it isn’t their choice anymore. Dollface lungers punching Noelle in the throat, dropping her to her knees faster than ‘a squid’ would, as Asher would say, and is going to say. But not right now. Right now he’s too busy having the back of his head grabbed and slammed into Dollface’s knee repeatedly as JJ and Pixie watch horrified. Asher falls and Dollface plants her foot into JJ’s stomach, kicking off and striking both him and Pixie with a split leg flip kick to their respective faces. Dollface then turns to Noelle, and rushes her, kneeing her in the temple and putting the lights out faster than a blindfold.

 

Vincent Black rises from the ground, and claws away the goo from his eyes, scratching his own flesh in his efforts. He looks at Dollface, and bites his lip, as rage courses through his face. Dollface does not turn toward him. She does not move. She only chuckles, and whispers. ‘Well?”

 

As Vincent and Dollface begin to circle each other, their eyes lock onto each other and in that moment all that exists is the two of them.

 

Vincent throws a fist at her head and connects. She falls forward but into a roll. She ends up back on her feet and facing him. He throws another punch and it is ducked, followed by a kick that is avoided and another punch that is sidestepped. Every move Vincent Black does, Dollface is not only prepared for, but is almost expecting. As if she’s seen this moment before, and is simply acting out her part. Vincent, already angered, becomes even more enraged at his inability to make contact. He finally grabs her and before he can do anything, she has wrapped her legs around his waist, spun to the side of him, and is now biting down on his bite. He screams in agony as the broken shards she calls teeth cut into his flesh, At which point her legs lock tighter, constricting his breathing even more so. She repeats the process until no sound comes out, and he drops. She stands up, grabbing a chunk of his crimson hair. She whispers into his ear, places her foot on the back of his head, and slams his face into the floor.

 

Vincent Black. Eliminated. KO. Dollface.

 

Dollface looks at the Black, and presses against her ear.

 

Dollface: “As promised. Vincent Black is out.”

 

Dollface walks slowly down the hall, her normally tattered attire even more so. She steps between the bodies and as she turns down a hall, hears a familiar noise. Guttural. Almost like an injured animal breathing against its better judgement. She walks closer to a door, and pushes it open. The floor is covered in crimson liquid which fills the room with the scent of copper. Looking for a lightswitch, she flicks it on, and finds a mass amid  the mess. Blood from every orifice, scratches on every face, and bite marks on every limb, she looks at the room and is amazed by the sight.

 

Dollface: “Apathy. I don’t know if you’re hearing thi…but I found Caleb. No. No. I found what’s left of him.”

 

As Dollface enters the room, she looks to her right and sees that the blood in the room is not just Caleb’s. But that of the entire Koresh family. Piled up in a corner, bloodied and beaten. She backs out of the room, and walks away quickly, off to finish what they started, and hopefully find out who or what did this.

 

Suddenly JJ, Asher, Noelle and Pixie all begin to rise to their feet. As they all walk over to check on Vin Black, they seem to be discussing how bad this is and how much trouble they’re in. When suddenly…

 

Paul Montuori: you don’t know the half of it. 

 

Paul reached out and grabs Noelles head,bashing it with his elbow before DDTing her into the floor. JJ rushes to help but he hesitates and Paul is back to his feet by the time JJ gets close. Paul uses the momentum of JJ’s run to pluck him out od the air and slam him down by the back of his head. Pixie looks at him, barely an emotion visible. She throws a haphazard punch that is easily caught, and turned into an arm toss that sends her to the floor. Paul picks her back up, and scoops her into a modified pile driver. Asher looks at his fallen comrades and let’s out a roar, before running full speed in the opposite direction.and running into Dollface, who sends a kick to his chest that flips him backwards to the ground. 

 

JJ Starfire. Noelle Rivers. Pixie. Eliminated. KO. Paul Montuori. 

Asher Jules. Eliminated. KO. Dollface.

Bitter Friends

We find ourselves in an opening, the large opening where the Cure and Brandon Moore have been going tooth and nail. The camera is focused on a corridor at the far end, and from that corridor there is commotion. Suddenly, Joe Montuori appears, flying through the air and landing in a crumbled mess on the floor. Following him is Dane Preston, who has bent up a steel chair in his hand.

 

Dane Preston: I don’t care if I have to beat it into you from now until perpetuity!

 

And with the chair, he smashes it into the skull of Joe Montuori. Once for each word that he speaks.

 

Dane Preston: Leave.. My.. Family.. Alone!

 

They are starting to move into this vast open space now, and Joe Montuori has made his way onto a table, doubled over, trying to catch a breath. Dane rolls him completely prone on it, and then starts to climb up wall fixtures, hanging precariously, before dropping on top of Joe Montuori, both of them crashing through the table.

 

MDM: Alrigh’! That’s a sight I like ta see!

 

Dane Preston: Slipped the trailing horde?

 

MDM: The en’rails of the Montuori harem of cling ons, yeh, got dis’racted by some’n shiny.

 

Across the room, the fighting is intensifying, and Dane Preston and Murphy Doyle Maher look down at the crumpled body of Joe Montuori that’s barely moving. But moving enough to not be eliminated.

 

The two FYA guys look at each other, a smile expanding across their mouths, and then bump fists. Dane Preston grabs a hold of Amari Kent, Murphy grabs the Enforcer and they start going to work. Murphy grabs hold of Enforcer by the throat and seemingly locks in a tight standing guillotine choke, and the Enforcer is struggling.

 

MDM: Yeah, keep thrashin’ ‘round, that’ll make it looser.

 

Anyone who has done a beginners course in jiu jitsu will know that you fight the hands and relax, and that was not what The Enforcer did. In less than fifteen seconds the thrashing stopped. His body went limp. The smile on Murphy’s face grew evermore wide as he released the hold and the corpselike Enforcer slumped to the terrible carpet floor.

 

Enforcer. Eliminated by KO. Murphy Doyle Maher.

 

Dane Preston had pressed Amari back against the wall, took a step back, and started doing the familiar punching sequence associated with his mentor, he looked at Murphy, wanting to one-up him, and he grabbed Kent and snapped him to the ground and was starting to lock in the body scissors that finish the Royal Dream Sequence, when out of nowhere came a brutal boot that nearly decapitated Dane. Attached to the boot was none other than the other mentor of Damon “HavoK” Riggs, the mercurial Brandon Moore. He grabbed the weakened Preston and pulled him up to his feet. By this point Murphy had sprung into action to defend his comrade. Moore, sniffing the danger, threw Dane Preston at Murphy, who had to hop to avoid being taken out, and then Moore used this as an opportunity to completely floor Murphy with a devastating leaping clothesline. He reached for one of the conference chairs stacked in the corner of the room, and started hitting both members of FYA with it.

 

Joe Montuori was on his feet now, and he had joined in with Brandon Moore in taking potshots at Dane.

 

Brandon Moore: Some things don’t change.

 

Joe Montuori: We might go our separate ways but we will always be united by our hatred for DICKLESS DANE!

 

Brandon Moore: Church.

 

From around the corner, the rest of the group that’d been with Joe Montuori appear sans Tommy Kain, who was eliminated earlier. Paul Montuori is talking to Ricky Rodriguez and Todrick Tabor, who he had encountered.

 

Paul Montuori: Oh shit. Guess a reunion is in order. Dub dub!

 

Brandon Moore: Dub dub.. 

 

The former tag team champions bump fists and look down over Dane Preston and Murphy Doyle Maher.

 

Miss Michelle: I hope I’m not interrupting anything..

 

Brandon looks up at the familiar voice, she’d been a few steps behind and he hadn’t noticed her. Something washes over his face, sadness or the nearest that he could get to an emotion approximating that.

 

Brandon Moore: I just remembered that I have someone to slaughter. I’ll catch you guys later..

 

And with that, Brandon turns around and heads back towards the melee behind him. Moore grabs hold of Eoin O’Rourke and rams his head into the wall.

 

Ricky Rodriguez, however, had another idea.

 

Ricky Rodriguez: Why are we just letting him go? After what he did to Michelle? I got nothing but hate for that guy. No free pass.

 

Ricky looks around for support, first to Michelle who says nothing, and then to Paul and Todrick, who both shrug. Ricky rushes after him, and kicks him in the back of the head. He grabs a pole of some kind and starts wailing on Brandon Moore. Eoin separates himself away from this melee momentarily, regrouping with Korrupt and Apathy. It isn’t long before Joe Montuori, Paul Montuori, Todrick and Michelle have run over and now they are beginning to pair off. Paul and Joe are double teaming Korrupt, Todrick and Eoin are on the floor in an amateur wrestling exchange and Michelle and Apathy are going for it. Ricky Rodriguez is continuing to wail on Brandon Moore.

 

Chaos. Everywhere.

 

Jason Ryan appears, trying to save Brandon Moore from his beating, but he’s totalled by Druscilla White who has entered the fray now, separating from Amari Kent who was bloodied from something that happened off camera. She grabs hold of Michelle, dragging her away from Apathy, leaving Jason Ryan in a mess on the floor.

 

Jason Ryan kicks out at the heel of Druscilla White, dropping her to the floor, and Michelle rams her in the face with a knee that echoes around the room. Most of the fighters turn to look, and there are a few gasps.

 

As it looks like Druscilla might be done, as if from nowhere a blond warrior in black leather shows up, grabs Druscilla, and we zoom in close to see her rub something around the nose of Dru.

 

Valkyrie: Wake up, sis’..

 

Michelle looks at Valkyrie, shocked.

 

Miss Michelle: I know you, who the fuck let you in?

 

Valkyrie: I guess they wanted some good female representation, unlike what they had with you. I’ll take out the trash.

 

Valkyrie bites down, and gets in a ready stance as Michelle approaches. She wastes no time in flipping over and hitting Freyja’s Kiss, a pele kick.

 

Miss Michelle. Eliminated by KO. Valkyrie.

 

Valkyrie: I got your back. Let’s do this.

 

Druscilla White: Sis.. I’m so glad you’re here.. WATCH OU—

 

AMARI CUTTER!

 

Amari Kent pushed himself up off the wall and dived and hit a devastating Amari Cutter on Robi Mitchell, following through with his feet into the face of Druscilla White.

 

Valkyrie. Eliminated by KO. Amari Kent.

 

Druscilla stirs, looking over her fallen friend, wondering how this anticlimactic moment happened. She grabs Amari Kent by the hair and runs her knee hard into his skull.

 

Stirring from being rocked by Miss Michelle, Apathy grabs hold of Brandon Moore, who is still feeling the effects of the beating from Ricky Rodriguez. She looks at him, his eyes are still glassed over.

 

Apathy: Look, we have to work together. At least for now. We’re getting overrun here. The Montuori’s have too many.

 

Brandon Moore: Let’s go to work.

 

Moore says with an affirmation that his body can’t currently back up. He crawls to his feet, and grabs a piece of broken table. Apathy snarls, taking a steel chair. Moore looks at Druscilla White, whilst Apathy grabs hold of Amari Kent. Amari gets sinched up and dropped on his head onto the steel chair with what she calls AFFLICTION. She wipes her mouth which had been pouring blood and looks down at the lifeless victim.

 

Amari Kent. Eliminated by KO. Apathy.

 

She looks at Brandon Moore as if to say “your turn”. He looks at Druscilla White, gripping her by her ear as she’s on the floor.

 

Brandon Moore: Last chance…

 

Druscilla White: Never.

 

Brandon Moore: Very well.

 

Moore grabs her violently, and hoists her onto his shoulders. He walks a few steps, whilst fighting her hands to cradle her neck in his arm. He builds up speed and runs full pelt into the wall and drops her on her neck with a vicious EVERBLACK!

 

Druscilla White. Eliminated by KO. Brandon Moore.

 

Moore looks down at Druscilla, almost sorry. But not sorry.

 

He looks at Jason Ryan, who he instructs to chase down Ricky Rodriguez, who was helping Todrick take out Eoin. Jason Ryan actually ends up grabbing Todrick and hits a Lou Thesz press takedown on him, Brandon Moore and Eoin O Rourke have Ricky cornered. Apathy smiles as she walks past, and she grabs both the Montuori brothers who were struggling with Korrupt, and cracks their heads together.

 

Eventually Sahara appears, blood all over her. Graham Clauson follows, blood all over him. He has some office equipment in his hand, and Sahara is wheeling an office chair around. She eventually collapses onto it, and Clauson runs and hits a seated dropkick that sends her flying past the brawl happening. As the camera catches sight of Ricky Rodriguez being lifted into the air by a gigantic Irishman..

 

IRISH CAR BOMB!

 

Ricky Rodriguez. Eliminated by KO. Eoin O’Rourke.

Playing It Smart

The camera cycles through a few different rooms, seemingly searching for something. Eventually the quick cycling of camera stops as we focus on someone, hooded, in the underground area.

 

Its looks like a fight pit, it has a myriad of weapons pinned to the wall, stationed in cages, dumped in piles. There are no ring ropes, but the whole thing is kinda sloped downward until you get to a circle shaped part in the middle. The hooded figure is calm, running his hands over the weapons, seemingly trying to make a choice.

 

Dickie Watson: Takin’ a breather?

 

His accent cuts through the silence and the hooded figure spins around to look at Dickie Watson, who wasn’t on camera.

 

Shawn Warstein: Playing it smart. Why waste my energy when the others can do the leg work? I’ll pick my moment.

 

Dickie Watson: I thought the winner was the one who pinned the most.

 

Shawn Warstein: They’re tougher than they are smart. They’ll hang around long enough that I can pick the bones. What are you doing down here?

 

Dickie Watson: Similar idea.

 

Dickie smirks, grabbing a steel pipe from a rack on the wall. He taps it twice on the concrete floor, and turns on his heel.

 

Dickie Watson: See you around.

Water, Oi

Murphy Doyle Maher makes his way down the hall in a staggered line, trying his best to stay on his feet despite feeling like his head is about to implode. Coming around a corner, he finds Anicka Swan resting up against a wall, breathing heavily and incredibly angry. Murphy shakes his pounding head. Because while he was looking to find Dane, it makes sense that he would instead find a multiple time fucking champion who looks like shes about to tear down the wall with her bare hands. On top of which, she’s only met him one or three times, and this might be the wrong time for ‘remember me’ style introductions. But there’s no time like the present and there’s no moment like the current. As he approaches, A door opens and Dollface appears. She looks at Anicka, and looks at Murphy, and a growl emits. Anicka realizes she’s not alone and turns, to find Murphy only, as Dollface has taken her movement, and the distraction it caused him, to slip away.

 

MDM: Don’t suppose you recall who I’m?

 

Anicka Swan: Ani might be loopy, but she doesn’t forget a-WATCH!

 

Before Murphy can respond, Korrupt and Eoin grab him and launch him through a set of double doors, and into a storage room. 5 gallon Bottles of Poland spring water fall from the shelves, and bury the irishman beneath them. Eoin and Korrupt turn toward Anicka. Anicka who was a champion back when letters were a thing. Anicka who had sent so many packing for lacking that the list wasn’t so much a list as it was a memorial. Anicka who had enver backed down from a single fight and was not prepared to now. Eoin rushed first and Anicka met him halfway to drive her palm into the center of his chest, stopping him in his tracks. Grabbing his head, she squeezed and waited for him to lift her, only to spin around him and kick Korrupt in the face. Pushing off of him she launched and drove Eoin into the floor. Taking a moment to get back to her feet, she looked at Korrupt, who was smiling widely.

 

“Oi!” was all Korrupt heard as a 5 gallon bottle of water crashed against his head, and sent him to the ground. A second one followed and knocked him unconscious on impact.

 

MDM: Any bottle takes down an irishman ain’t gonna have water in ‘t.

 

Murphy steps out, and as he attempts turn, Eoin rises and in one fell swoop takes MDM’s head off with one of the loudest and nastiest clotheslines anyone has ever seen. Anicka rushes forward as Dollface reappears and tries to blast Anicka with her spit, but hits Eoin instead. Anicka takes the opportune moment and uppercuts Eoin with enough force to send him spiraling to the ground next to Murphy.

 

Murphy Doyle Maher. Eliminated. KO. Eoin O’rourke.

Eoin O’Rourke. Eliminated. KO. Anicka Swan.

 

Anicka turns to look at Dollface, as Dollface stares at Eoin, a look of pain somehow visible beneath the mask and face paint. Guilt takes over her body as she looks down at him, wishing with all of her black heart it had gone different. And then she looks up at Anicka. Anicka who was already in the midst of a punch. Anicka who was driving Dollface back with hit after hit, to the stomach, to the face, to the ribs. Anicka, a wrestler through and through was putting on a clinic for boxing instead. And Dollface was the punching bag. Cornering the women in the corner, Anicka worked her with efficiency, sending streams of black and red in every direction. And when she was done, Dollface fell like a stone, and didn’t move.

 

Dollface. Eliminated. KO. Anicka Swan.

 

Anicka turns to leave and turns to Jason Ryan, who has a chair in his hand and has been sneaking up on Anicka this entire time. Anicka moves the chair slowly in front of Jason’s shocked face, and then headbutts it, Driving it into his head with hers. As he falls, fAnicka begins to stir, and somehow, collapses to the ground as well. Maybe from the impact, maybe from exhaustion. But she staggers back up to her feet, and keeps on moving forward.

 

Jason Ryan. Eliminated. KO. Anicka Swan.

 

We look out over the carnage and see the bodies of Eoin, Korrupt, Murphy, and Ryan. And we see Dollface stand up, walk after Anicka, her face shaking with rage. We follow her and lock in on a sign that points the way to the ring area.

What Doesn't Kill You Is Gonna Leave a Scar

Vhodka Black rises from the floor where we last saw her to a fully erect position, a position that reminded her of her husband, the man who was the entire reason for the events that were to follow from this point forward and the hell that two women in this building were about to rain down upon the heads of all of its inhabitants. There would be no interference on this night, no man in the middle to stop the chain of events that had been set in motion more than a decade ago when Vhodka had first watched the love of her life pass her by on the arm of another woman. Tonight she would end this. By the end of this night, no amount of black magic could raise the woman that had stolen away years of her happiness. The scenes of fighting around her are only a peripheral blur as she passes through them. She is a participant in this world but not of it, her purpose guides her like a bloodhound on a scent trail. 

 

In a much different part of the building another woman moves through scenes of blood and violence like a ghost through a wall, the sickening thuds and grunts a droning sound to the melody playing over and over in her head. There were those who thought that VooDoo’s reign of dominance in this business were long over, merely fairy tales of days gone by, no doubt, some of the very people laying on the floor in oozing puddles reaching weakly for her leg as she passes through them, only a visitor in their story. These people would come to find that the stories were all true and the red headed she-devil of their nightmares hadn’t been dead, no, up until this very moment she had only been sleeping. Just biding her time as she waited for the thing that would open up that void inside her and spill the hellfire from her body to rain down upon anyone unlucky enough to be in her way.

 

We cut to a split screen and witness two very different women with two very large things in common moving methodically in slow motion through blurring scenes of annihilation around them. A fist flies past one’s face to connect with a body on her otherside just missing her. In the panel of the other woman, bodies fall in her path. Bodies that she doesn’t even stop to take stock of, only raises her step a little higher so that she can step over them and continue on the path that would lead her to certain destruction. Whether she would be the cause of it or on the receiving end remained to be seen. As VooDoo moves through a particularly bloody room in her panel, Vhodka in the scene beside her pauses in her walk to bend down, inspecting what appears to be a bag of tools that must have belonged to one of the contractors working to make updates in the building. She kneels running her hands through the bag and returns to the camera’s viewpoint a small crow bar. Her eyes dart to an elevator shaft at the end of the hall as her direction changes to lead her to the elevator doors. 

 

The scene jumps ahead as we watch the two women enter through individual doors, each of them walking further into a room as the split screen fades out revealing them to be standing feet away from each other in what appears to be a makeshift catering area. Vhodka tilts her head up, sneering at VooDoo across the room who reaches for a knife left set on a table next to the covered serving dishes. 

 

Vhodka Black: Really? Like you’re going to stab me and risk prison for the rest of your life? Get real.

 

VooDoo: I’ve got a hell of a lawyer. 

 

The two women lunge at one another, animalistic noises rising from the body of each as they slam into each other in the middle. Vhodka immediately swings the crowbar missing the knee she was aiming for and smacks her adversary across the thigh, VooDoo brings her elbow down hard into the head of Vhodka as she connects, dropping both women down to a knee. Vhodka’s eyes shoot to the hand she last saw holding the knife, her own hands reaching to try to wrestle the knife away from VooDoo. The two women struggle back and forth, one trying to hold on to the knife and the other trying to disarm her of her weapon. With a frustrated grunt Vhodka slams her head forward, butting VooDoo in the face and leaving the redhead’s nose gushing crimson. Vhodka immediately puts a hand to her own head, shaking away the pain of the impact on her side as she mutters an “ow”. VooDoo’s free hand reaches instinctually to her face while Vhodka begins to try to pry her fingers away from the knife. 

 

Vhodka Black: Goddamnit it! Let it go!

 

VooDoo screams kicking the woman in front of her away trying to buy herself some time to reorient herself from the last headshot. Vhodka lands on her ass, her right hand landing on the crowbar she had entered the room with. With a shriek she juts forward, smashing the crowbar into VooDoo’s hand gripping the knife. When the woman doesn’t immediately drop the knife she uses all of her body to isolate VooDoo’s hand thwacking the crowbar into her fingers over and over until finally the knife drops to the floor in slow motion as VooDoo cradles her hand to her chest. Without thinking Vhodka lunges forward grabbing the knife and brings it down hard, stabbing VooDoo before her in the thigh. VooDoo howls, as one does when they are stabbed and both women stop looking down at the knife jutting out of her thigh in stunned silence. 

 

VooDoo: YOU STABBED ME.

 

Vhodka Black: Yeah, but I have a good lawyer. 

 

VooDoo: You. FUCKING. STABBED. Me. 

 

Vhodka Black: Oh fuck off. You spend half of your life cosplaying a fish I hardly think anyone’s going to notice. 

 

VooDoo growls ominously as she reaches down and rips the knife out of the flesh of her thigh with a grunt before smiling at Vhodka. It suddenly dawns on Vhodka that in addition to really pissing her off, she’s also now armed the woman she loathes more than anyone else on the planet. Vhodka scrambles to her hands and feet trying to get as much space between herself and VooDoo as possible. In her haste to get away she stumbles, giving VooDoo all the time she needs to plow into Vhodka with a stiff shoulder like a pro linebacker, sending the woman who broke up her family crashing through a small temporary bar station set up next to the food trays. Vhodka lays stunned in a pool of alcohol and glass. VooDoo wastes no time, jumping over the debris to top Vhodka, peppering her nemesis face with stiff right hands as Vhodka desperately tries to kept control of her left hand that is still gripping the knife. Vhodka reaches frantically around looking for anything she can use to fend off the woman above her but finds nothing. As a last ditch effort she uses her free hand to reach up twisting VooDoo’s nipples a full three sixty through her top, looking to be going for a world record titty twister. VooDoo shrieks jumping backwards just enough to allow Vhodka to scramble out from underneath her and around the other side of the catering table. 

 

Much like in a cartoon the two women find themselves on opposite sides, each moving the direction the other tries to go to. Suddenly, VooDoo drops her knife and reaches across the table for one of the lit sterno cans underneath the silver chafing dishes. Before Vhodka even has time to realize what she’s grabbed VooDoo touches the flame to the alcohol soaked clothing of Vhodka Black, erupting her in a fireball. Vhodka makes a pitiful sound as she panics and is seemingly confused about the fact she is indeed on fire. As Vhodka struggles, patting the flames on her body VooDoo throws her head back and laughs. In an act of pure desperation Vhodka resorts to the one thing she learned from the Bent Fork education system: stop, drop and roll. Much to everyone’s surprise, after a few revolutions she’s able to snuff out the flames and lays there on the floor a charred mess, writing in pain from the burns licking up her torso and left arm. 

 

Vhodka Black: YOU LIT ME ON FIRE.

 

VooDoo: Yeah, so? You’re used to burning sensations. 

 

Vhodka chuckles, lifting her right hand to extend a hearty middle finger in VooDoo’s direction, or at least the direction she thought was VooDoo’s. Unfortunately, what Vhodka doesn’t see is that VooDoo has armed herself with an extension cord which she uses to wrap around Vhodka’s neck several times, hoisting the free end over her shoulder to literally drag her arch enemy out of the room. Vhodka’s hands are frantically trying to make space between the cord and her airway as she kicks her feet, struggling like someone, well, like someone being strangled to death. VooDoo pauses once she has Vhodka cleared of the door, looking in each direction of the hallway until she spots the open elevator doors that Vhodka had used the crowbar to pry open previously. 

 

VooDoo: It’s time to end this once and for all. 

 

Each word is spat out through gritted teeth as she drags the struggling Vhodka closer towards the elevator doors not realizing the irony in that Vhodka had pried them open only minutes before planning to throw her down herself. Right as VooDoo is almost in the position of the open shaft, a gutters scream comes from off screen as the battered bodies of Vhodka and Vincent’s trainees erupt through a door at the other end of the hall, running toward VooDoo and their struggling mentor. The four descend upon the two women JJ and Asher trying to pry the cord out of VooDoo’s hand to free Vhodka while Pixie and Noelle split VooDoo’s attention with a barrage of fists the former woman tries to block with her free hand. VooDoo releases the cord around Vhodka’s to focus on the women before her, shoving away Pixie Sloane into the adjacent wall. Vhodka gasps air she rears up off the ground all while Asher and JJ try to pull her away from the fight. 

 

In a matter of seconds several very important things happen at once. JJ and Asher both dart forward in an attempt to restrain Vhodka, who has a solid hold on VooDoo’s gear. At the same time Pixie joins the fray again with she and Noelle leading the assault on VooDoo. In an act of god or perhaps just ineptitude someone snags the back of VooDoo’s ankle causing her to trip at the exact same moment someone else hits in to Vhodka in an attempt to pull her off. Before anyone even realizes what is happening, Vhodka and VooDoo disappear from sight through the open elevator doors into the shaft. 

 

Asher screams high and piteously as he darts towards the elevator, his hands extended for Vhodka but only finding air where seconds ago she stood. Several floors below, the two women lay in a motionless heap on the top of the elevator car.

 

VooDoo. Eliminated by possible death.

Vhodka Marie. Eliminated by possible death.

Turn The Screw

Anicka Swan comes bursting out of a set of double doors, Exhaustion draped across her face, but with amazement reaping in. The ring area is by far the nicest she has ever seen. The ring, the barricades,it all meshes so well that she wishes she had her phone to take a photo. But she recalls that there will be time for that later. Anicka turns at the sound of a noise, and finds Dane Preston having bursted through another set of double doors, His face swollen and bloody, he looks around obviously looking for someone. Anicka raises a hand to wave, but feels a shooting pain in her ribs. Dane nods at her back, and attempts to jump the barrier, but is stopped short by an empty folding chair flying by his face. He looks to his left and sees another coming, and then another. He begins to duck and throw his own back, not sure who he is throwing chairs at until he finally sees the face of Joe Montuori.

 

Dane: Where is my wife!?

 

Joe Montuori: Somewhere safe thanks to me!

 

Anicka attempts to make her way over, but someone grabs her arm, and spins her around.

 

Sahara: Hey Ani. Let me give you a hand.

 

Sahara blasts Anicka across the face, staggering her a foot away, but also awakening her. The two begin to pummel each other with fists, and kicking chairs at each other, as Dane and Joe on the opposite side of the ring make their way towards each other, still launching chairs at the other. Paul Mont walks out of the entrance way, looking at both fights going on. He looks up at a booth set up above the entrance way, with stairs leading up to it from ether side. He makes his way down to get a better look, and when he reaches it, Graham Clauson flips off of it from the shadows, and comes crashing down on top of him. The two men are laid out but stirring, aware that laying still for too long might lead to their elimination. Clauson gets to his feet first, and attempts a drop kick to Paul’s face, but is denied as Paul rolls out of the way.

 

Above them and to the right, we can see Apathy and Brandon Moore tearing apart a private box, going to town trying to lay the other out. BMoore gets the upper hand and begins to knee Apathy in the chest over and over while clutching her head, before finally tossing her backwards into the safety glass, and spider webbing it with the impact of her back. Apathy falls to her hands and knees and begins to rise, but Moore grabs her by the back of her head, and throws her into the glass again, further damaging it. With a scream of anger and hate, he rushes at her, and drives her and himself through it. They both fall a good amount of feed down to the seats below, but only Moore stands back up.

 

Moore looks down and sees Paul and Clauson fighting, Joe Mont and Dane, and Sahara and Anicka. Scanning the crowd, he sees three others approaching the mayhem. Todrick something or another from one area, Dickie whats his face from the other, and  Shawn Warorsomething from another. Brandon looks at the seat to his left, and brushes away the glass before sitting. No reason to rush down and fight them all, when he can rest now and fight the remaining. Behind him, Apathy crawls away.

 

Sahara and Anicka have now tumbled into the ringside proper, and are knife edge chopping each other in the middle of a conversation that no one could understand. Anicka gets a second wind and grabs Sahara by the throat, squeezing with all of her strength. All of her strength being somewhat reduced, since shes pretty sure she broke a rib or several. Sahara grabs Anicka’s wrist, and turns toward her, wrapping Anickas arm around herself before grabbing Anicka’s headn and dropping to her knees, driving Anicka’s head into her should. Spit and blood fly out as Anicka pops backward and almsot falls. Almost, but not. Of course that would have been better, as Sahara uses every last bit of her strength to leap into the air and drive a kick into Anicka’s face. ‘Victory’ reads the boot, and Sahara falls on top of her. A 3 count is completed by a person inside the booth Clauson just launched off of, and the announcement is made a moment after.

 

Anicka Swan. Eliminated. Pinfall. Sahara.

 

Sahara stands and before she can say anything, Todrick Tabor hits her with a sprinting elbow to the forehead, sending her flopping to the floor next to Anicka. She lays there for a moment, but is quickly brought back to reality as Todrick turns her over and applies a Camel clutch that stretches all the way back. Sahara tries to fight her way out of it, but she can’t find anything to leverage with. Suddenly a chair flies toward her from the Joe/Dane fight, and she can almost reach it. As her fingertips graze it, it suddenly slides beneath her head, and just before she feels the heel on the back of her head, she sees the reflection of Anicka Swan in the chair. Her head comes down onto the chair with a thud, and Anicka finally collapses to the ground for good, as Todrick breaks the hold, and claps in celebration.

 

Sahara. Eliminated. TKO. Todrick Tabor.

 

Apathy stands up in the isle, and looks over at Brandon Moore who is still sitting watching Paul fight Clauson. She can tell he is enraged by some part of it. She can also tell that she should do her best to recoup, before he remembers she’s still in it. Before she can even culminate the begining of a plan. She feels the nudge of two feet in her back as Dickie Watson drop kicks her and sends her flying down the steps. She settled almost at the barrier, before passing out completely..

 

Apathy. Eliminated. KO. Dickie Watson 

 

Paul Montuori now stands over Graham Clauson, As he watches the small but powerful mother fucker get to his feet. Paul takes a minute to respect the effort, but is already to hit his finisher, when out of nowhere, Shawn Warstein hits him with a running DDT. Paul staggers back, and mouths ‘what the fuck’ as Shawn covers Graham, and secures the successful 3 second nap for Clauson.

 

Graham Clauson, Eliminated. Pinfall. Shawn Warstein.

 

Toddy turns to find himself absolutely crushed by a flying body block by Dickie Watson. They both fall to the floor, and are slow to get back up, but Dickie rises first. He moves the hair out of his face, and begins to throw the larger Todrick around using various armbars and other such disorienating manuevers. All the while, the clangs of steel chairs and curses fill the arena. Joe and Dane have now made it to one another, and have begun to really level the other, each driven by a need to beat the other, and to prove the love they have for the same woman is more than the other. As Jmont goes for a DDT, Dane lifts him into the air, and suplexs him. As they fall, Joe spins the move so as to soften his landing, and somehow makes it so both men crack their head on the cement. Their blood lets loose and begins to pool together, as an announcement is made and an alarm that has not yet been heard. A familiar voice calls out once more.

 

Miss F: Paul Montuori. Brandon Moore. Shawn Warstein. Toddrick Tabor. Dickie Watson. You are the final five. Five of the most brutal and capable that this business has to offer.  Together, you would be a force to be reckoned with. But now is not the time for unity. Now, is the time to finish this fight. And earn your place in our history. Good luck, and god speed.

 

A second alarm sets off, and the five of them all begin to make their way to the ring. All from different parts of the arena floor, save for Shawn and Paul, who are arguing the entire way there. As they do, we see several of the eliminated participants begin to take seats in the upper area, interested to see who wins, and what is left of them.

The Final Five

They stand around, one in each corner of the ring, and Paul Montuori still on the outside. He looks up at them. On a video wall, there is a list of competitors, like a scoreboard. The names of eliminated competitors is in red, signifying that they can no longer add to their score.

 

PAUL MONTUORI – Three eliminations

ANICKA SWAN – Three eliminations

DOLLFACE – Three eliminations

DICKIE WATSON – Two eliminations

SHAWN WARSTEIN – Two eliminations

TODRICK TABOR – One elimination

BRANDON MOORE – One elimination

 

Miss F: Paul Montuori and Anicka Swan are currently tied for first place.

 

Paul Montuori: Better get after it, you wanna catch me. I just gotta knock ONE of you guys out and this is mine.

 

He attempts to slide under the bottom rope and all four competitors start making a move toward him. He slides straight back out again and then Todrick Tabor comes up behind Brandon Moore and drives an elbow into his skull, and then pulls him violently down in a backstabber.

 

And then the melee ensues. Dickie grabs Todrick, Shawn grabs Moore, and Montuori dusts himself down after a ruse well executed. Dickie is running the ropes and hits a slick hurricanrana on Todrick, and goes for a pinfall quickly. At the same time, Brandon Moore pushes Shawn Warstein away and grabs Dickie by the hair, preventing the pinfall.

 

Brandon Moore knows that with only four more eliminations available, he can’t allow anyone else to get one because that’ll end his chances. Warstein slides out from under the bottom rope and chases Paul Montuori, driving his skull into the ring post. They ricochet away from the ring a little and Warstein starts laying into him with varied offense but clearly taking the upper hand.

 

Back in the ring, Moore has Dickie Watson tied up in the ropes and he’s encouraging Todrick Tabor to take turns with him in kicking lumps into him. Dickie is coughing up blood and struggling to free himself. As Todrick offers a naive high five to Brandon Moore, Moore laughs in his face, and then kicks it. He starts to pick him up on his shoulders, thinking that its time for the EVERBLACK, but as he does so, Paul Montuori comes in and TOTALS Moore with a steel chair, that sends Todrick collapsing over the top rope.

 

Montuori stands over Brandon Moore.

 

Paul Montuori: Sorry, B, can’t let you do that to my homie.

 

And with little remorse, Montuori laid the chair over the face of his former tag team partner, and then drove his hips into his face with a leg chair drop. FUCK YOUR FACE.

 

Brandon Moore. Eliminated by KO. Paul Montuori.

 

Meanwhile, on the outside of the ring, Warstein is in a crumpled mess, and Dickie Watson has freed himself from the ropes, he slides out beneath the ropes, he runs around the ring, grabs hold of Todrick Tabor, who is still a mess from having fallen from Brandon Moore’s shoulders, over the top rope and out to the floor. Dickie hooks him up, taking the extra second to draw a thumb across his throat whilst looking at Paul Montuori in the ring.

 

DICKIE’S REVENGE.

 

He makes the cover, and it is an easy pinfall for a valiant competitor.

 

Todrick Tabor. Eliminated by KO. Dickie Watson.

 

And then there were three.

 

Paul Montuori, leading the pack, had four eliminations.

 

Dickie now had three.

 

Warstein had two, and would need to pin both of the remaining to tie the result.

 

Paul Montuori: Might as well quit now. Can’t win, papi.

 

Shawn Warstein: I ain’t quit a thing in my life. Not going to start now.

 

Warstein circled the ring. Both he and Dickie were on the outside, Paul Montuori was on the inside of the ring now, with the higher ground. Todrick and Brandon Moore were being aided in recovery.

 

Paul Montuori: Come on then, who’s first?

 

Dickie reached under the bottom rope and Paul wildly went to kick at it. Then Warstein did the same, to the same response. Paul laughed, calling them both cowards. And that’s when the next series of events unfolded, which you could call cowardly, or you could call cunning, or perhaps genius.

 

Because Dickie got on the apron, but Warstein grabbed Montuori’s ankle, as he did so, Dickie springboarded to the top rope, walked four steps across the rope and soccer kicked Paul Montuori in the face, which snapped Montuori’s head back and he crumbled to the mat, unable to protect himself as Warstein took his base away at the same time.

 

Warstein capitalized on this moment, shoving Dickie Watson off the top rope and he ended up hanging on the perpendicular set of ropes. Warstein traversed the apron from one side to the other, swinging around the turnbuckle, and grabbed Dickie’s head. He had him hooked up for a rope-hung EGO TRIP, where he’d drop Dickie to the outside.

 

He took a moment to soak it in. He looked down at Dickie, limp in his arms, right before he turned off the lights.

 

Shawn Warstein: Sorry “mate”, you’d do the same.

 

And in that moment, Watson drove his hand hard into the nether region of Shawn Warstein, causing him to double over and release Dickie. Now Warstein was hung up in the ropes, and Dickie summoned everything he could within him to run the ropes, he grabbed hold of the middle and top rope, spun through and MOLOTOV COCKTAIL!!!

 

This time, no hesitation, he made the cover.

 

Shawn Warstein. Eliminated by Pinfall. Dickie Watson.

 

Looking down at Warstein, he mutters “sorry mate”, and then starts to collect himself. Montuori is still ruined in the center of the ring, but the sound of the buzzer as Warstein was eliminated reminds him that there is still a battle to be won.

Next Fall Wins

Paul stands in the corner, looking over at Dickie Watson. Paul who had begun in this business the way most little brothers do. As a tag along. A face and a name to bolster the numbers of Big Bro’s bad ass brigade. But in time, he didn’t just match his brothers legacy. In many ways, he has come to surpass it. Paul Montuori. No longer a little brother, and forever a very big dog.

 

Dickie Watson, looking across at everything he feels is wrong with this business, at the second hand fighter of the Montuori clan, and he prepares himself. To prove not so much to the world, or the business, but to himself. That you do not need an armada, or a legacy to be successful in this business. You just need the drive. And it was time to drive that point right the fuck home.

 

The two men meet in the middle of the ring, and for a moment in time they are both equal. They are one and the same. Not the brother of this, or the former champion that. But they are the last two of many, who have taken on insurmountable odds to find themselves standing across from the other. And in this moment, their moment, they decide here and now that they would rather have it ripped from them than ever share it. And punches are finally thrown.

 

Paul decks Dickie with a right to the jaw which spins him around, and Dickie uses the momentum to backhand Paul across the nose. Dickie smiles as he regains his balance and Paul curses as a bit of blood pools just outside his nostril. Paul feigns a left and lands a right, sending Dickie back a step. Paul closes the gap but Dickie backs up another step and then launches forward, landing a foot to Paul;s midsection. Dickie grabs Paul’s head and uses it as leverage to fire between Pauls legs and ends up behind him. He drops down to his knees and pulls Paul over into a small package which doesn’t even last a second. Paul stands up and shoves Dickie with both hands, sending him flying backwards into the corner. Dickie runs toward Paul, who is already attempting a clothesline, but Dickie rolls beneath it. As Dickie turns, Paul hits him with a spinning haymaker, and lands on his knees facing Dickie. Shooting upward, Paul hits Dickie between the eyes wiht an elbow shot, and lays him out flat, but only for a second.

 

Dickie quickly regains himself and grabs Paul, whipping him into the corner, Paul shoots toward the turnbuckle but stops himself by planting his foot into the turnbuckle, hoping to elbow Dickie who is giving chase. But Dickie sees it coming and slides, kicking Paul’s only leg on the ground out from underneath him, and laying Paul out. Dickie’s slide lands him outside the rope banks and he climbs the turnbuckle. As Paul stands, Dickie leaps off, planting his foot on the back of Pauls back, and driving him back down to the canvas. As he lands, Dickie rolls out, but slides out of the ring and his velocity causes him to bash into the barrier outside.

 

Dickie looks in the ring, and sees Paul getting ready to rise. Paul’s fists plant into the mat and he shakes as he pushes himself upward, exhausted from all thats come before here, but motivated to keep going to what comes after. Dickie Watson takes a deep breath, and begins to pump himself up. As Paul gets one leg up, Dickie runs and leaps onto the apron, grabbing the top rope and leaping up, both feet landing on top of it. Dickie bounces off, hitting an amazing amount of height, and with a scream, he comes down with his foot on the back of Paul’s head, driving it down into the mat. Dickie tumbled out of it, stops himself from sliding too far, and scrambles back to Paul. He tosses his arm over him and grabs his leg. The booth lights up displaying a 1…

 

 Then a 2….

 

And then a  3….

Money.. for Blood.

Those Fighters in attendance look down and while they are disappointed it is not them, that their efforts were not rewarded, they all applaud those whose were. Dickie Watson, who had given everything he had to every promotion that had him. Dickie Watson, who had been given nothing in return, and continued to give anyway, had done it. This business was important to him, it was everything. He had gotten up day after day in an effort to make it known that he loved it, more than it loved him. But today, Dickie Watson proved once more, that sometimes, when you give more than some, you get far more in return.

 

Dickie Watson looked up at the man before him. He was young, he was clean cut, and he was covered in tattoos. He was also wearing a suit that was worth far more than all the clothes Dickie had ever owned. And in his hands was the shiniest prize he’d ever seen.

 

Xavier Wolf: Dickie Watson, It is my absolute pleasure to present you with the FIGHT NYC Empire Championship. Congratulations, and thank you.

 

Xavier reached down and offered Dickie a hand up. Pulling him up, he put the belt on his waist, and fastened it. Dickie looked down, and saw himself in the reflection. Not who he thought he was, but who he had always wanted to be. Xavier raised his hand, and pointed to a nearby Camera drone, and announced.

 

Xavier Wolf: Ladies and Gentlemen, you’re blood money victor, and FIRST EMPIRE CHAMPION OF NEW YORK…DICKIE WATSON!!

 

The screen cuts to bars all across New York, The United States and even the world, As crowds of people celebrate the victory in what is sure to be one of the most memorable matches in the history of FIGHT! NYC, and probably the history of the world.

 

And then finally…