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Inside the locker room was where Jason Kain resided before the first match at Domination was to commence. He paced back and forth across the room, as he usually did before any show, raising his adrenaline level to its peek. “Jae, will you just sit down? You’re starting to make me nauseous!” a voice rose up from across the room. Sitting in the chair was a rather large and round-bellied Jade Greene. Jae stopped and looked at his very pregnant fiancée. He smiled at her and stopped pacing. He walked over to her and kneeled in front of the chair she was slouched so deeply in. He kissed her stomach and rubbed tiny circles around her protruding belly-button with the tips of his fingers. “How are my two favorite people in the whole world?” he looked up at Jade and winked. “We’re fine Jae. I went for my biweekly check-up this morning and Doctor Scheers said everything was looking good. He said the baby is growing exactly how it should be, and its heart rate is looking good! It shouldn’t be much longer...” Jade patted her own stomach as Kain stood up. She reached out her hands in front of her, and Jason pulled her from the chair, planting his feet firmly and pretending to have a hard time getting her up. Once she was finally up, she smacked him across the shoulder and folded her arms across her chest. Jae kissed her cheek. “Are you sticking around for the show tonight?” Jade looked deeply into his eyes. Eyes she hasn’t seen much of lately. “Well, I was thinking about it earlier today, but I’m just so exhausted from trying to get the baby’s room set up, that I think I should just go back to the house and get ready for bed...God am I boring!” she laughed slightly and Jae grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You’re not boring, you’re pregnant!” the two of them embraced for a quick second, as Jade checked her watch. She pushed away from Kain and grabbed her wallet from the table in front of them. “I gotta get going. The limo has been waiting outside for almost twenty minutes!” she kissed him on the cheek and headed for the door. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” “Why wouldn’t I be?” she raised an eyebrow to Kain and pulled the door open. “Well, there is a lot of paparazzi out there...you know, wanting to see ME of course!” he winked and Jade laughed. She shook her head and headed out the door, closing it quickly behind her. He turned and slumped against the door and put his hands over his face. When would he stop hiding from her? When?
Confidence Reborn A black Chrysler 300 pulled into the arena parking lot. Soon after, two men stepped out of the car. From the passenger side emerged 'Marvelous' Mat Walton, from the drivers side came Andrew Martin. The vetern Martin was enstilling some encouragement into his young nephew. "Remember, you've got two opponents in this one, not just one. You're going to need eyes in the back of your head." Martin said. He was confident in his protege, but was his protege confident in himself? "I'm not sure about this," Walton said, "I don't think I can win." Walton hung his head. "Shut up!" Martin barked, "If you keep thinking like that then we may as well head home. I know you've hit a rough patch lately, but there is no better place to get out of it than at a Pay per view." Martin knew that his nephew knew no one understands the highs and lows of the professional wrestling business better than Andrew Martin. Nobody. "I'm sick of losing." Walton said, "What's the point of me even being here if I'm just going to lose?" "You need to realise one thing," Martin said, "And it's that confidence is the biggest thing in this business. And after you win tonight, you'll be back on top of the world." That comment seemed to turn Walton's frown upside down in a hurry. He seemed to have a new glow about him, his confidence was returning. "Well what the hell are we waiting around here for? We've got a match to win!" Walton said. And with that the two of them headed on into the arena. Walton was almost sprinting in as Martin followed slowly behind shaking his head.
"Hey, thanks bro, I really appreciate it." Billows said as the production member finished setting up a television. The man nodded a stood there for a moment before Billows started to feel awkward. "eeeeYeah?" Billows questioned. The production member held his hand out and rubbed his thumb over his middle and pointer fingers, symbolizing he's inquiring about a tip. Billows looks down at the man's hand and then back up at his face before letting out a chuckle. The man didn't budge, and, there he was with his begging hand. Just a guy looking for a handout for setting up a television backstage for Billows so that he could watch the pay-per-view. Fair enough. Billows reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and produced a $5. He handed it to the man, who looks down at it, and then looked back up at Billows with a perplexed glare. Now Billows was starting to get frustrated. "Dude, it's against my religion to tip in the first place, so consider yourself lucky." Billows said, with a nod. The man sighed and walked out of the lockerroom. Billows snorted and shook his head while unfolding a steelchair so he could sit down and rest his weary bones. He plopped down in the chair and chuckled to himself. "...against your religion to tip..." Billows looked around, waiting for Domination to begin. At first he was a bit disappointed that the second match of the series he and Dilly Dawg were involved in couldn't take place on this event. However, being realistic, he realized that it was justified. The card was already packed with some awesome matches. Dilly Dawg vs Billows #7 was a match that belonged on a PPV, not Dilly Dawg vs Billows #2. Still, that left the young bluechipper Billows unoccupied for the night. (sigh) Being unoccupied for the night was so boring. Oh well, one of the benefits of people considering you a rookie. Billows sat back, and waited for the show to begin.
It was a special night in the nbW arena, with a new title on the line. The first match of the night was set to begin in mere moments and the two wrestlers had a history. Whatever the result of the match, it was sure to set the pace for Domination and sure to leave an impact. The crowd suddenly cheered and leapt to their feet as Eminem’s “Role Model” came blasting through the arena and Mr. Bizarro himself, Lunatic came prancing through the entrance, trying to walk with the beat of the music. Already the audience was behind him, hoping he could score another win over the obnoxious woman he had defeated weeks before and move onto the final tournament for the Dynasty belt. Lunatic pranced down to the ring, his arms in the air, smiling at the crowd. Diving through the bottom rope he entered the ring, bounding up to do an imitation of a Russian Cossack dance. Many in the crowd laughed and cheered him all the more. Their shouts of praise were cut short as Soul Kid No.1’s “More Bounce (In California) cut through the music already playing and Callie Urban sauntered out of the entrance way. Gone was her usual smirk, instead replaced by a grim, tightly drawn line that clearly told everyone in the crowd she meant business. She had lost a match she should have rightfully won, if it weren’t for outside interference, and she’d be damned if she were going to lose to the crazy man again. Climbing the stairs of the ring, she stepped under the ropes to walk calmly around, puzzling the audience. She didn’t smirk, nor did she flip them off. Slowly, she made her way to the nearest ring post and climbed to the second turnbuckle, raising her right arm and in a sweeping motion, pointed at the audience. Lunatic stood in the center of the ring, his head cocked to the side as he watched his opponent’s behavior. He wasn’t about to turn his back to her, he knew from firsthand experience what that could result in. Instead, he waited for her to join him in the center of the ring where the referee threw his hand down and signaled for the match to begin. DING Neither wrestler moved as they both sized each other up, not wanting to make the same mistakes again. Finally, Callie made the first move, charging forward to spear the man onto the floor. Lunatic hit the mat with a thud, Callie landing on top of him. Following up, she raised her right arm and began to beat his face mercilessly with her fist. The referee leaned down and demanded that she fight cleanly, but her assault continued. The referee started the five count and the crowd wondered if this would be the shortest match of the night. 1… Callie finally threw her hands up and rolled backward and off of the prone man. Lunatic rolled over to his stomach and started to prop himself up with his elbows. But his opponent was having none of it and dropped an elbow into the small of his back, slamming him back down. The crowd booed as their favorite was beaten, hurling insults at the woman responsible. Callie let them roll off of her back, standing to her feet. “Come on Moony, is that all ya got? You even know where ya are ya big retard?” She brought her foot up and stomped on his back. “Come on ya pervert, fight!” If Lunatic heard her words, he didn’t respond. Annoyed, Callie reached down and grabbed a handful of the man’s hair, jerking him to his feet and dragging him across the ring. Still grasping his hair, she dragged him in front of a ring post and brought his head down on the top turnbuckle. As he staggered back, she followed, whipping him across the ring and into the ropes. She didn’t wait for him to ricochet all the way back to her, but instead ran and greeted the man with a flying clothesline, dropping him to the mat once again. Standing, she walked around the ring, staring at the prone man below her, her expression showing no mercy. Dragging him to his feet once again, she wrapped her hands around his head and ran across the ring, gaining speed before driving the already battered man’s head into the ground with a running bulldog. Sitting on his back, she went to wrap her arm around his neck when his head whipped back, catching her in the face. Rolling off of him, Callie held her mouth and tasted blood. Lunatic however took advantage of the distraction and managed to crawl away and get to his knees. The crowd cheered in support. LUN-A-TIC! He rose to his feet slowly and a little unsteady. By then his opponent had stood up and unceremoniously spit out the blood in her mouth before charging at Lunatic. He wasn’t able to move out of the way and she hit him with a solid spear, sending them both through the ropes and out of the ring to the hard floor below. Lunatic landed on his back, head bouncing off the floor. Callie had somehow managed to twist her body to the side, slamming her entire weight on her right hip. Both wrestlers rolled away from each other in pain. The referee ran to the ropes and looked over at the wrestlers laid out below him. Lunatic was curled into a ball, his hands holding the back of his head as he rocked back and forth. His opponent was laying on her side, her right leg folded as she held it to herself while cradling her hip. Neither made an attempt to stand. Seeing no other choice, the official began the ten count as the audience erupted. Surely the match couldn’t end this way, what would happen with the tournament if it did? 1… Slowly, Callie rolled to her knees, both hands still holding her hip as she grimaced in pain. 3… Lunatic was still curled into a fetal position. Callie on the other hand managed to make it to her feet and limped over to the ring apron, grabbing the bottom rope and pulling herself under and into the ring. She was safe, the other man didn’t look to be moving anytime soon, she could let him be counted out and take an easy win. But Callie never was one to follow common sense. Hopping back out of the ring, she made her way to her opponent, grabbing him by his hair and hauling him to his feet. Dragging him with her, she tossed him up on the apron and rolled him under, continuing the match. Even though the crowd loathed her, they cheered, knowing that their favorite could still fight as long as he wasn’t disqualified. Rolling back under herself, she got to her knees and rolled him on his back, covering him for the pin. 1… But Callie let him go before the three count of her own accord. The audience was livid, she was toying with him! Reaching around she grabbed his hair and pulled his head back painfully. With her free hand she delivered a quick chop to his neck, smiling grimly as he made a strangled sound. The official reacted, yanking her off of her opponent and dragging her away, telling her to keep the match clean. She simply stared him down,
locking eyes with him. Then, for the first time in the entire match,
a smirk made its way across her face. Shoving the referee away from
her, she swung under the ropes and went over to the announcer’s
table, kicking Marc Gordon out of his seat and taking the steel
chair. Snapping it shut she turned around and hopped up onto the
ring apron. Callie became fed up and with a hard shove, pushed the ref to the floor. But before she could step under the ropes, a frenzied blur came flying at her. Lunatic dropkicked her, feet connecting with the steel chair, slamming it back into her chest, sending her flying backwards to land on the ground outside the ring. The chair landed on her head with a loud thunk and she turned on her side, grasping at her already sore hip. Inside the ring, Lunatic raised his arms and began a little war dance, letting out a loud whoop before grasping the top rope in both hands and catapulting himself up and over to land by the fallen woman outside the ring. The crowd was on their feet as Lunatic seemed to be getting his second win. LUN-A-TIC!! Reaching down, he pulled her to her feet, before scooping her up. Lifting her high over his head, he let out another war cry and walked over to the railing, dropping her onto it. She hit and bounced back before sliding to the floor. Raising his hands, Lunatic turned to the audience taking in their cheers. Callie made it to her knees and started to crawl away. Seeing her, Lunatic pursued, reaching down and grabbing a handful of her hair to bring her to her feet. Dragging her back to the ring he slammed her head down on the ring apron, returning the favor from when she had slammed his head into the turnbuckle earlier in the match. Slamming her head down once again, he heeded the ref’s warning and threw her under the rope and into the ring before following. Callie sprawled onto her back on the mat, now a victim of her arrogance. Lunatic sat down on her stomach and hooked both legs through his arms for the pin. The referee started the count. 1... Callie managed to throw her shoulder off the floor! Still somewhat dazed, she kicked out with her legs in an attempt to loosen them from her opponent’s hold. When that didn’t shake him, she threw her weight over, reversing their positions and leaving Lunatic’s shoulders on the floor. The count started again, with what had to be the oddest attempt at a pin the crowd had seen in some time. 1... Finally Lunatic let go, to spring onto his feet. Leaving his opponent on the floor. Turning around he let out another war cry as he ran to the nearest ring post and began the climb to the top turnbuckle Turning around he balanced on the rope, waiting for his opponent to stand on her feet. If it hadn’t have been for the sudden crescendo of cheering from the crowd, Callie might not have clued in on the fact that she needed to move. Standing on her feet, she cautiously turned around, barely having enough time to strike out with a drop kick to avoid Lunatic’s hurricanrana. Ignoring the sudden flurry of boos; she kicked the man in the stomach for good measure before making her way to the ring post herself. The crowd wasn’t sure what to think, this woman had never climbed the turnbuckles before, had never hinted at wanting to have anything to do with them. Yet she slowly climbed to the top rope and turned, facing the crowd. Making sure she didn’t fall, she watched her opponent stand and turn to spot her. As Lunatic charged her, she raised her hand and pointed at the audience before leaping off the rope. She connected with Lunatic, delivering her finishing move, the Screw Cutter, a devastating top rope somersault neck breaker. He dropped like a stone and didn’t get up. Getting to her knees she threw her head back on sprawled over him for the cover. 1… Callie Urban got the pin! Her music blared through the arena as she stood, letting the referee raise her arm in victory. Jerking her arm back she turned and stared at the audience, a full-fledged smirk on her face. A cameraman tossed her sunglasses to her from outside the ring where they had fallen off sometime during the match. She snatched them out of the air and put them on, soaking in the boos from the crowd. Then, she took a deep bow, staying bent for a few moments before coming back up with a flourish to flip off the audience with both hands, breaking out into laughter and their jeers intensified. Still laughing she slid out of the ring and walked backwards to the entrance, both hands back in the air, shooting the crowd the bird as the referee knelt down to check on Lunatic’s prone form, still laying in the center of the ring. It was set; Callie Urban would face the winner of the match between Blake Grey and Rejection for the Dynasty Title. Winner: Callie Urban via Pinfall
Temper, Temper Jason Kain glared at his reflection. He was not happy with the occurrences happening. Sure, the cops have slowed knocking at the door for questioning. Sure, nbW have let up on their probation due to the charges being dropped. But there was still a tingle… a nagging at his mind. He hated hiding it from his fiancée. But he didn’t want to worry her more than she already was. She was full term in her pregnancy, and her prescence earlier was unwarranted and in some ways uncalled for. He regretted the fact that he thought that way, but tonight’s match wasn’t board sanctioned… the quitting would be real. The fight would be real. Sure, both men would play it off at first, making the crowd get into the fight... but The Don was throwing down the gauntlet… and in the end, the match would become more visceral, gory… destructive. The antithesis of nbW’s whole being. Once again, Kain was becoming the hardcore demon he had been straying from since God-knows-when. But that nagging continued. He was to face The Don tonight. He didn’t want to… and especially not in something that would make him be forced to QUIT if he is to lose. And somehow… somewhere in the back of his head… he knew that he was going to lose tonight. He pulled the door open to the locker room and looked across the way to the two men in black suits sitting across the way. They weren’t nbW security, and they weren’t a brand new tag team… and they were, for damn sure, not fans of Jason Kain. But Kain had seen them before… earlier that night when he had come to the arena. One went by the name of Tommy Two-Tone, always wearing black and white and that’s it. The other Flips Barolone… he knew this because they were the same two guys that he saw in The Don’s limo each week, and now they were haunting him everywhere he went. “The Don-a isn’t pleased wi’ you, Jason.” Two-Tone smirked. He quickly frowned. “If it wasn’t-a for da Don tellin’ us ‘spiffically… we would have put peace to you a while ago. You know dat, don’tcha?” Kain slammed the door. That was the fifth threat he had received that night… and it was the last one he cared to hear. He was tired of it. Tired of it all. Endlessly, he had been pushed and pulled into messes such as this, but usually for the benefit of television ratings. Tonight? Tonight his career was on the line. Not because it was a stipulation… but because The Don was going to be relentless, and not even because Kain did anything. The Don was going on a hunch… and an accusation. Kain looked up and opened the door again. Two-Tone smiled, obviously set with another prepared threat… but Kain held up a hand. Two-Tone amused himself with Kain’s weak attempt at giving his own view… but was treated to the middle finger instead. Two-Tone jumped from his seat as Flips put an arm in front of him. “The Don will take care of him, Tommy. We’re just here so he don’t chicken out, ‘k?” He then turned to Kain and uttered the first words he had made to him all night. “Don’t attempt to ruin my good friendship wit’ you. Ok? I’m-a here to just make sure you go trew wit’ the bargain.” Kain smiled, then gave him the finger as well. Flips’ smile left his face. Kain then turned toward the interview room and pointed. Flips nodded approval, but the sneer on his face didn’t leave. Kain would have to pay for his insolence. Soon.
WHO needs a straight jacket? Rey Campbell and Alex Styles appeared to be having a discussion in Styles' office. Rey was partially dressed in his wrestling gear he had on his tights and slippers. The keystone belt was of course on his shoulder while Styles gave Rey a puzzled look. Rey stood up and grabbed his chin. "Look Styles a guy like Loony doesn't just learn. Did he learn when I beat him for this belt? No he didn't Styles. Loony needs to be put in that place where his people belong!" "The insane asylum Rey?" Styles answered. "No I thinks its called a Loony Bin! So here is what I want. Rey vs. Loony, winner gets the Keystone Championship, loser gets sent to the insane asylum indefinitely!" Rey yelled seeming to be excited. Styles just sat there with his head on his hand. "Sure, why not." Styles replied with absolutely no enthusiasm. "Yes! This is going to be good; I suggest you say good-bye to Loony now, to telling what I may do to him in the ring you know?" Rey said. Styles sighed and pointed to the door and Rey walked over and then out smiling as he made his way down the hall. "That guy is a pure asshole." Styles said.
The almost ceremonious darkness swept over the arena. Engulfing the world in a mystery of darkness the faint music began to pick up in volume. The fans knew what, or maybe who, was coming and no one liked it. Rejection threw back the curtain and made his appearance in the aisle. Walking with a confident demeanor and purpose in his stride he made his way down to the ring. Instead of taking the stairs though he threw one foot up on the ring apron and hooked his arm over the tope rope. Rejection climbed into the ring and paced around as he prepared for action. Staring back at the entrance he kept his body in the corner, ready and waiting. Cue the dimming of the house lights as “Do You Call My Name?” by Ra began to play. A single light shone down from the top of the arena, much in the way of a spotlight. Blake Gray stepped out from behind the curtains and the animated young man looked around with confidence as he had the opportunity to leave Domination with the new Dynasty Championship. Dressed in his wrestling trunks and boots, Gray paced around in front of the entrance way taking a good look at the live audience. Slowly, Blake Gray began to make his way down the aisle toward the ring as that spotlight from above surrounded his figure and the floor at his feet. Approaching the ring, Blake turned and placed a foot on the steps. He began to walk up each step and when he reached the top, he stood at the outer edge of the ring grabbing the ropes. As referee Ed Gates stood in the ring awaiting the second qualifying match for the Dynasty Championship, the winner to face Callie Urban in the title match, Gray scanned the crowd with his eyes. The reception for Gray was a positive one as fans were cheering the young man, for reasons which continued to bewilder management. He held the ropes and leaned back, jumping up and catapulting himself off the second rope into a high jump and inside the ring. There was no over the top flaunting from Gray as he stood opposite of Rejection, a man who had already beat him once in nbW. Rejection looked as menacing as always as he set himself for the start of the second match of a scheduled eight matches on the Domination card. Ed Gates looked at both men to become aware of their condition and communicate with them so the match would be able to proceed. Gray loosened up rather quickly to get ready as Rejection just stared down the young athlete. Ding! Ding! Ding! As always the toll of the bell started the competition. Shifting around the ring, Gray and Rejection began to feel each other out. They met three weeks ago in a match and it was quite the back and forth contest then; fans could only wonder the struggle they would have in this rematch in a Pay Per View atmosphere. Gray made the first move for a tie-up but swept back as if it were a fake. Rejection did not seem shaken up by the weak attempt and remained focused. For a second time, Gray lounged forward for a tie-up but Rejection caught him with a stiff right hand to the face! Quickly, Rejection seemed to be more focused as he backed Gray straight up against the turnbuckles. As Gray was pinned in the corner, Rejection shot him with two more big haymakers and left him reeling before driving his shoulder deep into the stomach of Gray. The crowd was already becoming involved with their reactions in the form of “Oh!” and “Ah!” to Rejection’s stiff shots. Taking Gray by the left arm, Rejection sent him for the big ride across the ring. Gray crashed into the turnbuckles back first and had a moment to absorb the pain before Rejection came rushing in. Rejection had his knee raised as he appeared to be thinking a thrust to the stomach again but Gray rolled from the corner and the knee of the larger man hit the second turnbuckle and he fell down. Gray had the opportunity to come down with an elbow drop to the sternum which connected, but Rejection did not seem too fazed as he started to his feet with Gray. With both men on their feet, Gray threw a forearm that connected with the left temple on Rejection’s head. He staggered and Gray drove a chop down into the man’s massive chest which stung as Rejection winced. Gray backed him into the ropes and whipped him across the ring looking for a shoulder tackle on the way back, but Rejection hit a shoulder tackle of his own! Stunned and aggravated Gray jumped to his feet and took a clothesline to the head from Rejection. Gray rolled backward and climbed to his feet in the corner as Rejection gave him no breathing room. This was a match where it seemed neither man wanted to give the other a chance to recuperate as Rejection stung Gray with more brawling haymakers in the face! Gray reeled from each shot in rhythm and Rejection pulled the smaller man from the corner and lifted him up— Overhead Military Press— Dropping Gray right down on his chest! Rejection grabbed Gray’s shoulders and rolled him over, making a pin attempt early. One… Two— Not even close as Gray powered out! As Gray sat up, Rejection went for the rear chin-lock and tried twisting the head of his opponent to the side. Gray was fighting as he tried pulling the hands of Rejection from his chin. Further fighting came as Gray drove upward punches into the head of his opponent some of which connected while others missed. Rejection pulled Gray to his feet and Gray caught him with an elbow right to the side of the face! Right into a front chancery Gray went hooking the leg and tights as he tried lifting Rejection. He pulled Rejection up slightly but Rejection came right back down on his feet. He countered by lifting Gray and Blake squirmed to try and end up behind Rejection. Gray did slide down the back of the bigger man and Rejection turned, breaking a waist-lock by Blake. Another huge haymaker from Rejection connected as he seemed even more prepared for Gray this time than he was the last. Blake fell back against the ropes and grabbed his face, but he shot forward with a huge right forearm to the face of Rejection! The big man stumbled back a few steps but did not lose his vertical base. Gray again bounced off the ropes and came at him with a forearm which again just knocked Rejection back. Rejection beckoned Gray to hit him with another shot and as Gray came off the ropes Rejection looked for a clothesline— but Gray telegraphed that and ducked! Coming off the ropes from behind Rejection as he started turning around was Gray— Flying Clothesline! It was more of a Flying Lariat by Blake Gray but it still connected and took Rejection right off his feet as the big man went down on his back and the crowd erupted. Blake jumped up and watched Rejection as he climbed to his feet. Driving a toe kick into Rejection’s mid-section, Blake took him into a front chancery and lifted the bigger man up— Vertical Suplex! A pin-fall came by Gray as he covered Rejection. One… Two… It was nothing too difficult for Rejection as he kicked out on that count. Blake was on his feet first and drove a boot into Rejection’s back and shoulder as he started to his feet. Rejection countered with a chop right to the chest of Gray which knocked Gray off-balance and back into the ring ropes. A stinging kick caught Gray right in the stomach and Rejection locked on a chancery this time. He grabbed Gray’s trunks as he started falling back— Simple DDT! The head of Blake Gray was driven into the canvas with great force pulling it and Rejection began to turn the young amateur over for a pinning attempt. One… Two… Blake Gray shot his shoulder up and stayed alive at two! The crowd rejoiced though that believed his kick out was evident this early in the match. Rejection had the advantage as he began pulling Gray to his feet. The menacing man backed Gray into the ring ropes and leaned him back over the top rope a bit—driving down a chop into Gray’s chest that had to leave a giant welt! “God!” screamed Gray; at least that is what his yell sounded like as he clenched his chest in pain. Rejection went with a whip again as he sent Blake across the ring and caught him with a lifted knee to the stomach on the way back! Gray held his side and stomach from the mat as Rejection was all over him with a knee dropped right into the kidney region. The advantage continued to be given to Rejection as he dominated Gray since the point of the suplex and Gray was absorbing the punishment with little retaliation. A side headlock from Rejection was applied on the canvas and he pulled Gray back toward his feet. A weakened Gray was trying to stand as Rejection drove his elbow down into the back of his head and wrenched on that headlock again. Blake was being punished with the superior strength that Rejection possessed and had no real possibility to use his technical advantage. That headlock by Rejection was pressed on tighter and tighter as Gray reached with his hands to try and pull it off. Rejection seemed to be like a tick attached to the flesh of an animal as he was clenching the head of Gray without the sign of letting go. Ed Gates watched on with the live crowd as Gray reached for the ropes but was not in any position to gain hold of them. Gray wrapped his arms around Rejection’s stomach and tried his usual successful counter of the move, the Back Drop Suplex— But it was blocked. Rejection kicked Blake’s legs out from under him and landed on top of the young man. The headlock was lost but Rejection almost had a mount on Gray to throw punches. Gray brought his hands up to cover up but Rejection unloaded with mostly right fists to the face, catching Gray with the occasional shot and leaving him beaten. Rejection took Gray by the head and began pulling him to his feet again. Tossing the young man into the corner of the ring, Rejection came in looking for a big haymaker but Gray caught him with a boot to the face! Blake rushed at Rejection but was lifted up and sent over Rejection’s backside with a Back Body Drop! Another pin-fall from the larger athlete followed as Blake was definitely far from starting off strong at Domination. One… Two… Another kick out from Gray came as he lifted his shoulders up. Slowly, Rejection began to lift Blake to his feet and he drove a kick deep into Gray’s abdominal area. Sucking Gray in, Rejection set him up for a possible impact move with the standing head-scissors. Gray came out of no where with a reposition and counter, lifting up Rejection using his strength— Northern Lights Suplex with a pin! One… Two… Rejection broke free from the pin-fall! A groan was processed by the crowd as they watched Blake and Rejection start to mount their feet. Gray reached his feet first and caught Rejection with a chop to the chest. Rejection stiffened up and Gray drove a second chop right into his chest. Following that, Gray drove a forearm into the side of Rejection’s head and caught him in the temple. As Rejection staggered back, Gray ran forward with a hard clothesline— Both men went right over top of the ropes falling to the outside! Down in a heap on the floor outside the ring, Blake Gray and Rejection were slow moving as the impact had taken some energy from them. Rejection held his head which had connected with the corner of the apron during the fall while Gray held his jaw which had smacked the hard padding on the outside. They were both moving very sluggishly to their feet but each came to their feet as Ed Gates dropped out of the ring to control the action. There would be no count-out ending to this championship influencing match. Blake drove a hard fist into Rejection’s face and they both stumbled around the side of the ring as Rejection returned a shot of his own to Gray’s jaw. They locked up in a clinch and Gray drove right hands into the side of Rejection’s face while Rejection answered with an axe kick of sort to the stomach which caused Gray to fall back into the apron. Rejection rushed at Gray but he ducked and moved out of the way of that mauling. As Rejection turned, Blake caught him with a clothesline to the head and neck, knocking Rejection back against the apron of the ring. Ed Gates encouraged them to move the action back into the ring but Gray was content on pummeling Rejection from the outside. He grabbed Rejection and whipped him right back into the apron of the ring sternum first! “Get it back in the ring already!” Gates shouted at them both. Still his words were ignored as Blake Gray lifted Rejection’s arm and ducked under it. He grabbed Rejection around the waist and began to lift the larger man into the air on the outside— Back Drop Suplex on the floor! “Oh!” came the crowd’s reaction as Blake and Rejection both laid on the mat. The Dynasty Championship title match hung in the balance for the winner and both kept that in mind as their driving force to not give up. Blake Gray pulled himself up as Rejection held his head in pain on the ringside padding. Gray reached down and pulled Rejection to his feet, rolling the slightly larger man back inside the ring where he stopped just a few feet from the apron. Blake climbed on the apron and headed to the side of the ring, scaling the turnbuckles. Standing on the top in a position where he rarely finds himself, Blake Gray sprung off the top rope and came down into the ring— Guillotine Leg Drop across Rejection’s head! A pending three-count would follow as Ed Gates dropped into position for the count and Gray made the slight hook of the leg. One… Two… Three— Not to be at Rejection kicked out without a doubt! It was a near fall but Blake Gray had to have known it would not be enough. Blake sat up and took a few deep breaths as his mind was wandering as to his next move. Rejection was still down but Gray was going to change that as he grabbed Rejection by his head of long, stringy, dark brown hair. He pulled Rejection to his feet and backed him into the ropes sending him across the ring with an Irish whip. On the return, Rejection ducked a clothesline and came off the opposite ropes— Flying Lariat Takedown! Some would bring up a reference to a certain dead-man on that move, but Rejection got his own height and brought his own impact to Blake Gray with the lariat. Blake and Rejection both were laying on their backs and both men were looking for a second wind to help them advance into the finals of this mini-title-tournament. Rejection started to his feet with Blake managing to reach his feet first, more because of flexibility than lack of fatigue. They came forward into a lock up and Gray wanted a chancery but Rejection spun him out of it. Rejection pulled Gray into a chancery of his own and lifted the young athlete into the air. Blake was kicking his feet to try and slide down. He slid down but landed on the shoulders of Rejection. The big man tried to reposition and even lift Gray back up, but changed plans— Samoan Back Drop taking Gray out! One… Two… There was no three as Gray kicked out from that rather sloppy, even unplanned pin-fall. Rejection rolled off of Gray and came back to his feet as Gray held his lower neck, the very section which had been damaged a little under a year ago. As Gray walked forward into a kick from Rejection he doubled over and was pulled into a side suplex position, most commonly the set-up for a Pump-Handle Slam. Rejection threaded the arm through the legs and lifted Gray up into the air— Arm Drag Counter by Gray! An amazing counter by the technician and he tried to apply that fighting arm bar, looking to seal the deal with the legs over the face and chest of Rejection. It was a struggle as Rejection tried to bring that arm back in and keep Gray from locking it off. If Gray got control of the elbow it would mean trouble and give him the possibility to snap the elbow of Rejection. Rejection kicked his body over and came up on Gray, driving a fist down into the man’s head! Gray lost the arm bar and rolled as Rejection shook his arm and started back to his feet. Blake was trying to get up as fast as possible so as not to lose his small advantage. He got up and turned around but took a vicious clothesline right to the top of the head from Rejection which laid him out on the floor! The body of Blake Gray practically folded up like a pretzel on the canvas and Rejection continued to just work the slight kick or even soreness out of his right arm. He came down with his boot right in the face of Blake Gray as Gray proceeded to grab his face and kick the canvas in pain! Dropping right down on the mat, Rejection pressed his elbow and forearm into the face of Blake Gray, smothering his complexion and just raking away at his facial bones. He dragged the elbow right across Gray’s face, back and forth, trying to even tear open the nose or the side of Gray’s face. But Blake tried to fight it and Ed Gates stepped in trying to get Rejection to back-off. No success came from either man’s attempt as Rejection put his elbow right into the throat of Gray and tried disrupting his breathing pattern! The fight was becoming more of a methodical approach to ending your opponent’s chances through cheap tactics on Rejection’s part than actually trying to out wrestle the successful collegiate athlete. Blake gasped for air as Rejection removed his elbow from the young man’s throat and stood up to take a small scolding from Ed Gates. But Rejection dropped right back down with a knee drop to the head! He made the cover on Gray for the pin with both legs hooked. One… Two… A kick out from Gray came as he had to fight to break Rejection’s hold! Sitting up, Gray reached for the ropes but Rejection took him by the head and started pulling the young man to his feet. Gray was going to have a big struggle on his hands as Rejection lifted him up from the side and took a few steps forward with his knee outstretched— Pendulum Back Breaker! The back of Blake Gray became contorted over the knee of Rejection as he then fell to the floor and arched himself off the canvas in pain. Gray winced and writhed in pain as Rejection was taking this relentless assault further and further and showing no sign of slowing up. Rejection again attempted a pin-fall on Gray. One… Two… Three— Another kick out from Gray, this one delayed a bit longer! The crowd was becoming excited, more nervous, that Gray’s Dynasty Championship match later in the night would not happen. Rejection was showing domination in this encounter just as in the last one and Gray needed to fight back. He was not given much opportunity to do so, but he needed to create the opportunity. Rejection began pulling Gray to his feet again and hit him with a fist that knocked the young athlete back against the ring ropes. Gray teetered against the ropes but fired back with a hard knife-edge chop to Rejection which was pretty much shrugged off. Rejection caught Gray with another big fist and it took the young wrestler off his feet and to his back. Gray rolled to stand up and Rejection watched him stand up. Gray took a whip across the ring but came back ducking a clothesline from Rejection and catching his balance behind him as Rejection turned— Crescent Kick right to the jaw! The opportunity to slip back into the match was there as Blake Gray collapsed feet from Rejection on the canvas in the ring. Both men were down and the referee was not going to exercise a ten-count. There needed to be a winner to fight Callie Urban for the Dynasty Championship prior to the main event. Rejection was in an apparent spread eagle on the canvas from the straight kick to the jaw while Blake was recovering and even beginning to crawl in Rejection’s direction. Gray turned and reached for the ring ropes and pulled himself to his feet instead of attempting to make a pin on Rejection. He stood up as Rejection was stirring on the canvas. Helping his opponent up a bit even, Gray applied a front-waist-lock on Rejection. He lifted up and swung their bodies around— Belly-to-Belly Takedown! That amateur style wrestling move flattened Rejection with a second consecutive offensive move from Blake Gray. The opportunity had presented itself and Blake was taking in. Rejection was down and the pin-fall was immediately there as Gray never lifted himself off Rejection. One… Two… Three— Broken as Rejection shot his shoulder up! Groaning fans, some of which were pulling strands of hair from their heads after that near fall, watched as Blake Gray started to his feet. Gray looked at Rejection on the canvas and he reached for Rejection’s right leg. The crowd watched as Gray began to do something differently, contorting the leg around his own and turning Rejection over. He locked the two legs of Rejection together and pressed in with his free leg— An Inverted Figure Four Leg Lock was applied by Blake Gray! Rejection’s eyes let up as he felt the pain in the knee joint of his right leg. Blake Gray was bringing in new submission variations at Domination and he was trying to capitalize and catch Rejection off-guard with this Inverted Figure Four. Rejection clenched his teeth and lifted himself with his arms off the mat. The sweat dripped down his face and went to the mat as he took deep breaths and strained himself to move. “Argh!” Rejection let out a little cry of pain from the submission. “What do you say, Rejection? Do you give up?” Ed Gates was down on his knees trying to make sure he had complete control on the contest. The eyes of Rejection continued to show pain but he shook his head to mean “No” as he tried forcing his feet down. Gray continued to press his feet into Rejection’s and try to force a submission. Rejection managed to lift his body off the canvas and Gray was losing his footing— Rejection pushed his feet out and Gray fell forward losing the lock! Struggling for a moment was Rejection as he had a cramp in his leg from the pressure. Gray rushed back to his feet and approached Rejection from behind with a Belly-top-Back lock. With his strength, Gray lifted Rejection off his feet and back over his head— Release German Suplex! The simplistic yet sleek arsenal of Blake Gray was being unleashed on Rejection in the late portion of this match as Rejection was now out on his back from the impact of that German Suplex. No pin-fall was coming from Gray though as he looked at Rejection’s position. He immediately started for the corner of the ring. For a second time, very uncharacteristic of Gray, he was heading to the top turnbuckle. This time he faced away from Rejection and looked out at the crowd as he readied and jumped— Perfect Diving Moon-sault— Rejection put his knees right into Gray’s chest! Falling over on his back went Blake Gray and he held his chest in pain as Rejection was slowly reaching over for a pin. Rejection rolled over and draped his arm across Gray’s chest as Ed Gates dropped to make the pin-fall. One… Two… Three… Blake Gray had his one foot across the lowest rope and even kicked out! “Two!” shouted Ed Gates as he gave the signal and the crowd erupted. There was a short period of down time as Blake and Rejection were each showing their exhaustion from the match. Blake Gray held his chest as that moon-sault was not the best idea. Rejection climbed to his feet first and held the ropes as Blake was trying to use another set of ropes to steady himself. Taking a look at Gray, Rejection made a decision and rushed at the weary amateur— Big Boot to the face knocking Gray over the ropes to the floor! Crashing into the apron and then flopping down to the floor went Blake Gray and Rejection fell against the ropes with the perfect opportunity to slow the match down and even rest for a moment. Blake was down with barely any moment on the outside and the crowd was concerned and silenced. Rejection pushed his hair from his face and climbed over the ropes and stepped out of the ring. Blake was reaching for the apron with his arms but it was no use. Rejection grabbed him by the hair and lifted him to his feet. He took Gray’s right arm and sent him for a whip— Straight shot right to the steel steps shoulder first went Gray! The young athlete collapsed in pain on the floor, possibly even with a dislocated shoulder. Blake continued to endure the pain of Rejection just as he did three weeks ago and Rejection approached the young man and lifted him back to his vertical base, rolling him into the ring. Rejection slid into the ring slowly and pushed Gray over onto this back and made the lackadaisical cover. One… Two… Three— Blake shot his shoulder up and kicked free! The ever-present will to fight by Blake Gray remained as Rejection was having difficulty putting him down. Blake reached up for the ropes and grabbed them as he tried to pull himself up with pride. Rejection took hold of Gray and dragged him toward the center of the ring and let go of the man. He watched Gray fall right back down to his knees and reach back up looking for something to hold. Rejection snubbed Gray right in the temple with his boot and Gray fell flat on his face. The crowd booed as they watched Rejection almost toy with Gray as he started pulling the young man back up. Rejection backed off and watched Gray steady himself on his own feet. With a look as if he was impressed, Rejection took a step forward— The “Bell Chime” – that spinning hook kick right to the head by Rejection to Gray! The shot completely cleaned the clock of Blake Gray and took him off his feet. Gray went down hard on his back and the crowd let out an “Oh!” in unison. The live Bethlehem crowd watched Gray stare up at the rafters and appear dazed and confused. Blake was in a world of trouble as Rejection reached down and started pulling the young man to his feet. He pulled Gray into that side slam position and set him up for that Pump-Handle Slam for a second time. This time, “Denied” was successful and Blake Gray was left on the canvas in a spread eagle! One… Two… Three… Amazed by the sheer ability and tolerance, Rejection stood up as Blake Gray had kicked out again and the crowd was roaring! It seemed that in any match, Blake Gray was more difficult to put down, harder to defeat, than the last. It may have been the Pay Per View atmosphere or it may have been the dozen-plus years of training, but Blake Gray refused to be put down for good by Rejection in this prelude to the Dynasty Championship title match. Drained of all energy, Blake Gray tried to pull himself up against the ropes that were a mere foot of so away. He could not. Rejection had completely drawn every last bit of energy from him in this contest. Blake Gray reached for the ropes again, but Rejection took him by the leg and pulled him toward the center of the ring. Gray could not kick his way free as Rejection began lifting him to his feet. Rejection grabbed Gray by the throat but Gray fell to his knees. There was something on Rejection’s mind and he wanted to end this match as Gray could barely stand. Rejection pulled Gray into position for “Rejection” and everyone knew it. Blake was going to be helpless, given the beating he had taken this whole match. Rejection lifted him up— “Rejected”— Countered! Blake turned it right into a side leg-sweep sep-up— “Changing Pace!” The Front Russian Leg Sweep by Blake Gray connected! Both Blake Gray and Rejection were out side by side in the facedown position on the canvas in the middle of the ring. The crowd erupted with cheers of “Let’s Go Gray!” trying to rally behind this athlete who has given his all in every single match since his debut in no brand Wrestling. Rejection began to slowly recover from the effects of that front leg sweep as Blake Gray was barely able to lift his head up. Blake needed to burst to his feet at this moment and steal the victory if he intended. The massive Rejection was starting to his feet and Gray was barely lifting his body to start getting to his feet. Rejection stood up and grabbed Gray, pulling him to a standing position. Gray was wobbling and Rejection acted fast— Throat Thrust into the Side-Slam! “Rejected!” The elbow came down right over the sternum of Blake Gray as his head bounced like a ball from the canvas. The crowd was stunned but booed as they watched Ed Gates make the three-count and Rejection hook the leg. One… Two… Three! As Ed Gates turned and made the signal for the bell, Rejection rose to his feet holding his forehead from that front leg sweep. Blake Gray was still out on the floor. He was dripping with sweat but so was Rejection. It was a hard fought victory, a trend-setting match for the event that still had over three-quarters of a card to go. Blake still had another match. Rejection still had two more matches as it was clear after this victory. Rejection would face Mat Walton and Pat Dwyer in only a matter of minutes. And, in less than two hours, he would go against Callie Urban with the chance to become the first Dynasty Champion. Ed Gates raised Rejection’s hand to signify his victory as Rejection turned and stood over Blake Gray’s fallen body. He rose his hands alone and had somewhat of a smug look on his face. The destruction by Rejection was just starting at Domination. Alex Styles’ self-chosen champion had defeated one of the most credible athletes on the roster in his first of three matches. If the pace did not change, could Callie Urban stop Rejection from becoming Dynasty Champion? Winner: Rejection via Pinfall
Destructive Interference Backstage in the nbW locker room, there was a huge stir of superstars trying to prepare for tonight's festivities. All were about and trying to prepare, and in the depths of the locker room, back in the far right hand corner was a star that was focusing his every amount of attention on tonight's events. This star was Pat Dwyer, and he looked as focused as ever. He was sitting alone in this back corner, on the mat floors, with his legs out and stretching. He was already in his ring attire, and was just moments away from one of his biggest nbW matches, a three way elimination! As he stretched and prepared, the famous nbW interviewer, Allison Cadence approached him, microphone in hand and her usual smile. Dwyer didn't look as aggravated as usual when he realized it was he she was probably looking to interview, rather he just kept his focus, and continued stretching out his muscles, keeping them loose and ready to go. She noticed he seemed busy, but still went up right beside him, standing just over him. "Pat?" She asked, unsure of if he'd respond or not. "Do you think I could get an interview with your thoughts before tonight's big event?" He nodded, assuring her that would answer the questions she'd see fit to asking. "Well first of all it's been awhile since we've heard much out of you," She started off by saying. "So I think we should start from the beginning, what are your feelings about Mat Walton and Rejection after the confrontations you've had with the two over the last month or so?" "My feelings?" He said in disgust, finding it such as odd question to be asked. "The two men have both done nothing but get in my way over the past month. I try to go out and climb the ladder of nbW, and they did nothing but step in my way of things! Week after week, both of them have been nothing but a nuisance, and after beating them each once, they still haven't had enough of me just yet!" "How do you feel about being one of the first men to ever defeat Rejection cleanly?" She questioned him, also finding it interesting herself that Dwyer had accomplished such a feat. "It's no big deal to me," Dwyer replied, not seeming very ecstatic over the idea. "He's just another named crossed off the list, yet another man to lose to my superior technical ability. I'm frankly surprised that no one else has beaten this talent-less moron!" "Okay well…how do you feel tonight's match is going to play out? Any sort of game plan that you have in mind?" She asked Dwyer, unsure of if she had his attention since he continued on stretching his legs out. "Tonight will play out just like the other two matches facing each of them did. I'll beat them both, only this time it'll be one right after the other. First that little rookie Mat Walton will suffer the consequences of getting in my way, and then I'll once again get to prove that Rejection is nothing, pinning him just like any other opponent." Dwyer announced with a smirk on his face, the first real sign of emotion he's shown through the interview. "Any final comments you'd like to say before it's time to go?" Allison asked, looking like she'd had about enough of Pat for one night. Dwyer got up off the ground, dusting himself off after spending a while down there. He looked into the eyes of Allison, his look of seriousness and determination looking bigger then ever. He simply shook his head, and turned away, starting to stretch-out his upper body. She was confused, but just slowly slipped away from Dwyer, leaving him to his business.
Total Destruction He wiped himself off with a towel, trying to get the sweat dried off his body. This was more or less a losing battle though due to the fact that his body was still hyped up and going. It certainly wouldn't be an easy night for Rejection. With the win he just picked up, things just got a whole lot more complicated. But, he planned to persist through it as much as he could. He was conflcited in a way though. Up next he was taking on his only real enemies to date in a match that would more than likely put them through quite the work out. On the other hand, his first shot at glory was only a few matches away. The Dynasty Championship. It was meant for him, and now all he had to do was prove himself. And he was already halfway there. The last task in that chain involved the very woman standing next to him: Callie Urban. In fact, she had been talking for the past few seconds, only he was too distant to pay attention. "What?" "I said you did good out there. Gray is a tough guy." "No, he's not actually. This is the second time I've beaten him. Why he thought this would be different than the first time is beyond me. As if he even really stood a chance once I was thrown into the competition." "Yea, that says a lot I guess. So, I'm all ready to go once you give the word. I got your back covered the whole match Rej." "Thanks, but I don't think I need you." After the remark had been said he noted that Callie seemed a little put off by the comment. But in a way, he couldn't really try to patch things up between them. It had just been determined, they were technically enemies at this point. Combatants more or less. "I just don't think I'll wind up needing any back up is all. I'll let them take care of each other and then take down whoever is left." "Listen, just because you beat Gray doesn't mean you're going all the way in this thing. I have a few tricks up my sleeve ya hose beast." She had a smile on her face that told a story of humor with a subtle seriousness. He saw right through it though and realized what must be done. "Yea, sure. Good luck trying to take my own destiny away from me. Trust me, you'll need it." Without waiting for her response he threw his towel onto a table off to the side. He turned around murmuring "see you in the ring" as he walked away. Callie remained looking on, conflicted on the inside, but with a clear path to her goal.
"Ahem! Pat Dwyer commands your attention!" The catch phrase played over the PA system of the Stabler Arena, followed by "Lip Gloss and Black" by Atreyu. Boos as usual were echoed throughout the arena, the thousands of fans resenting the entrance of Pat Dwyer. He then emerged from the curtains, getting more of a reaction out of the fans as he trailed his way towards the squared circle. Dwyer wore a smirk on his face, absorbing the energy of the fans, and becoming impressed he can make them react in such a way. He slid into the ring, and ripped off his black nbW T-shirt, having him remain in his short-like black tights, the usual wrestling attire. He carelessly tossed the shirt outside of the ring, and then was confronted by the referee, reviewing any rules that may have to be known for this upcoming contest. Not wasting anytime, “Don’t Stop, Won’t Stop" started playing and the fans attention was immediately turned back towards the entrance ramp. The excitement of the fans risen, and loud chanting and cheering could be heard, as Mat Walton strolled on out to the ramp. The young man was ecstatic by the fans' reaction, but didn't let that interfere with his focus. The whole walk towards the ring, Walton focused on nothing other but the man in the ring, Pat Dwyer. He slid into the ring, trying not to let his eyes off of the veteran. The referee also went to give him instructions, and well he did so Dwyer chose to taunt Walton from the other side of the ring, trash talking the young star. It appeared that it'd gotten under the skin of Walton, and he began walking towards Dwyer, but the referee was already there to stop it. Both exchanged words, but the official for this match-up, Ed Gates, warned both to return to their corners. Though Dwyer was resilient to do so, he returned to his corner and began stretching. Walton would follow suit, doing his own thing to prepare for the triangle elimination match. And then the darkness hit. Like a nice black blanket the fans found themselves covered in it. And then, "Broken" by Sentenced played over the system, once again grabbing the attention of the fans and having them all face towards the entrance. As they did so, the lights came back up. Coming through the curtain and onto the ramp was Rejection, slowly walking towards the ring. The man took his time, not wanting to rush anything after just having a tough bout against Blake Gray. He was in no rush to hop back into the action, and it showed. Still drenched in sweat, and appearing to be heavily breathing, Rejection slowly took the steps and over the top rope. The referee hurried over and explained the same rules as he did the other competitors. He nodded in agreement, not taking his eyes off the other two men. All three braced themselves for the opening of the contest, and the referee signaled for the bell. Exploding after the echo of the bell, Dwyer and Walton charged towards one another, tying up. Anxious to gain momentum early, Dwyer shoved Walton into the corner turnbuckle, then releasing the hold and going to work with some swift kicks to the body! Sitting back, Rejection watched on from the opposite corner, seeing Dwyer put the boots to Walton early. Continuing his surge, Dwyer threw Walton to the opposite corner, attempting to follow up with a clothesline, but getting the boot of Walton to the face! Jolted back, Dwyer tried approaching Walton, but was grabbed from behind by Rejection, and turned towards him. Rejection gave a boot to the midsection of Dwyer, and picked him up into a body slam, sending him down to the mat. Walton tried to get a hand in on this; charging Rejection and hitting him with a diving forearm smash! The blow didn't manage to take the big man down however, and he continued on towards Walton. Just regaining his feet, Walton got pressed into tying up with Rejection, and the much larger man came up the victor. Rejection used this advantage to capture Walton into a side headlock, then taking him down to the mat. He cranked on the neck of Walton, trying to wear the energetic young man down on the mat. Not liking what he saw, Pat Dwyer charged at the two, and slid into the face of Rejection, hitting him with a low drop kick. This broke the headlock off of Walton, and Dwyer rushed up, getting a hold of the Rejected one. But the grip wasn't enough; Rejection then whipped Dwyer towards the ropes. On the return, Rejection got a hold of him once again, and lifted him right into the air, slamming him down with a spine buster! Walton had seen Rejection toss Dwyer to the Mat, and quickly lunged at the left knee of the Rejected one, -drop kicking it! He immediately dropped to one knee, and Walton leaped to his feet. Looking energetic, the young rookie vaulted at Rejection, hitting him with a flying lariat! Walton wasn't going to let this change of momentum end, and decided to lift Rejection to his feet. Whipping the much larger man to the ropes, Walton followed up with a hard clothesline, sending his opponent over the top rope! Rejection tumbled to the hard concrete floor, looking winded and unable to regain his feet too quickly. Having Rejection out of the picture, Walton turned his focus to Dwyer, whom was already back on his feet. The two charged to the center of the ring, tying up followed by a knee to the abdomen by Dwyer. Jolted by this swift move, Walton was bent over, followed by Dwyer clenching and executing a textbook snap suplex! Both were however quick to regain their feet, charging once again at one another and this time Dwyer closed his fists, hitting Walton with a hard right hand. This drove him back, and seeing the job didn't get done, Dwyer once again hit Walton with a right hand…this time forcing him to use the ropes to keep himself up. Dwyer continues his ongoing press to Walton, slugging him two more times, before the hard punches dropped Walton down to a knee. Showing complete disrespect for his opponent, Dwyer threw a huge knee to the face of Walton, which dropped him to the mat! Once again showing animosity to his opponent, Dwyer was stomping on the head of Walton, showing absolutely nothing but his pure hatred for the young man. The referee struggled to stop Dwyer, but the end of the brutal boots ended when out of the corner of his eye, Dwyer spotted Rejection up on his feet. Rejection was on the outside, and seemed to have been watching on at Dwyer's actions, taking a little break from the contest. Disgusted by this, Dwyer slid to the outside, only to be bombarded by a fury of punches from Rejection! Dwyer's accusation that Rejection must be tired out seemed to be false, because the powerhouse was pummeling him! Having the advantage on his side, Rejection rolled Dwyer into the ring, and also rolled himself in right behind him. Lifting Dwyer to his feet, he noticed that Walton was stirring on the opposite side of the ring, slowing regaining his feet. Not wanting to allow this, Rejection saved himself from danger by running across the ring, and putting a quick stomp into the back of Walton! He turned back to Dwyer, noticing he was already to his feet. Obviously frustrated by this, Rejection approached Dwyer and attempted to boot him in the midsection, but Dwyer caught it! Dwyer capitalized on the mistake, slamming Rejection back with a capture suplex! Trying to get a quick and easy win, Dwyer placed his arm over Rejection's fallen torso! One... Two…But that definitely wasn't enough! The big powerhouse known as the Rejected One managed to force his way out of the pin fall attempt. Dwyer easily became angered by this, but instead of taking it out on Rejection had seen that Walton was still alone, and regaining his feet. In an attempt to catch Dwyer off guard, Walton bounced off the ropes and charged towards him. Pat almost naturally stuck out his right forearm. Walton saw this, ducking underneath and returning at him at a fast pace, hitting a bulldog on the puzzled Dwyer! Walton noticed Rejection out of the corner of his eye just before getting up, but noticed he wasn't making any attempts to get involved. But knowing that Dwyer may get up quickly; Walton hustled to his feet, as did Dwyer. Being the quicker of the two, Walton managed to hit Dwyer with a kicking combination of lefts and rights to the lower abdomen! Dwyer had become winded from these devastating blows, and Walton caught him off-guard with a hard heel kick to the jaw! Scrambling in attempts to get up, Dwyer made it onto both knees before Walton grappled him from behind, locking on his own version of a sleeper hold. Rejection, long since returning to his feet finally decided to get himself involved, giving a heavy stomp to the side of Walton, that easily broke the submission. Getting more involved in the action; Rejection grabbed hold of the head of the dazed Mat Walton, giving a few shots to him before Irish whipping him to the corner. Rather then getting a good grapple on Walton, Rejection decided to start to punish his much smaller opponent. Striking with lefts and rights, Walton tried to cover himself up, give a little protection. As Rejection thrashed on at Walton, the referee continually tried to get in-between the two, warning and threatening Rejection with disqualification in order to get him off. The Rejected One after many threats finally stopped the thrashing of Walton, whom was fallen to the mat from the brutal beating he had, went through. Before getting a chance to take advantage of his newly found momentum, Dwyer caught Rejection with a spear in the back of his left knee! Right away, Rejection went down hard, and clinched his hands hard against his knee, a huge shock of pain coming from his face. Smiling unmercifully after the maneuver was Pat Dwyer, and he looked satisfied to say the least. Not stopping there, he grabbed a hold of the damaged left knee, and bent it towards him, before dropping his elbow right into the connection of the joint! Rejection let out another huge sigh of pain, and he moaned with distress. Dwyer seemed to love every moment of it, and then again had dropped his elbow into the exact same point of the joint, getting an even bigger moan of agony out of Rejection. Once Dwyer seemed content with the pain he'd put his opponent through; he looked over at Walton to see him still struggling to get back to his feet. So maybe he wasn't done with Rejection just yet. Grabbing the left knee again, this time Dwyer twisted it into the famous submission hold known as the figure four leg-lock! Following the execution of the submission was the immediate reaction out of Rejection. Right away he started to struggle and try to get his way out of the hold, but Dwyer had it tightly held, not leaving an inch of room for Rejection to be able to squeeze out of it. The hold was starting to take its toll on Rejection, having him lying flat on his back, unable to get back up. The referee had seen this, and initiated the three count. One… Two… No! Rejection sprung up, trying to get a swat at Dwyer. It didn't manage to reach, and Dwyer tried to crank the hold even tight, sending Rejection back onto his shoulders. He'd known better then to lie on his back, so he tried to reverse the hold, and give the pain right back to Dwyer. But as he twisted and turned, it did nothing but cause more pain to be jolted throughout his body. All he could do was look for a way out and the ropes were much to distant for him to get his hands on them. And right at that moment, out of no where came Mat Walton, back onto his feet, and driving a furious elbow drop into the sternum of Dwyer, breaking the figure four! The fans popped at the save of Walton, and he went right to work on Dwyer, leaving Rejection in pain on the mat, still unable to let go of that knee of his. Dwyer was aggravated from Walton's interruption of Rejection's possible elimination, getting right back up to his feet, ready to answer back after that vicious elbow drop. The two stood just feet away from each other, when suddenly both started to slug it out with one another! Dwyer and Walton, both throwing right hands at each other, one landing right after the other! The explosive shots sending each back and forth; with Dwyer getting a slight advantage. He began slugging with both hands, winding up for a big right, but he telegraphed too much! Walton ducked right under it, and swept Dwyer's legs right out from under him! As soon as Dwyer hit the ground, Walton bounced off the nearby ropes and landed right over Dwyer with a guillotine leg drop! Dwyer grabbed his throat in pain, and Walton took full advantage by going for the cover! One… Two… Thr- but Dwyer gets the shoulder up just in time! The two men both hurried to their feet, Walton making it up in much better time then Dwyer. Walton guided Dwyer up to his feet, while their other opponent, Rejection, sat back secluded in the far corner, watching the action, and breathing heavily. He appeared to be nursing his left knee, and having the referee have his attention towards him. But Walton had too much on his hands to bother with him. Still raising Dwyer to his feet, he got surprised by a low blow from Dwyer! Walton dropped to his knees; holding his crotch and having a look of pain and despair come across his face. Shocked, he couldn't really do much for moving after that one! Dwyer flashed a grin at the crowd after the blow, and heard the huge change of reaction, getting a bunch of loud boos out of the fans. However, he was content with it, and knew that Walton was out of his way for a little while. Taking the chance, he covered Walton, hoping to finally get rid of him! One… Two… Thre- No! Walton kicked out, still in pain, but he managed to get the shoulders up off the mat! Dwyer slammed the canvas in frustration with his fists, and argued to the referee that it definitely should've been a three count! This was a mistake though, because while being distracted by the official, Rejection came up from behind and strongly turned Dwyer around towards him. Hitting him with a strong toe kick, and getting him off balance, Rejection hit a single armed DDT! The two hit the mat hard, and neither seemed to be recovering too quickly. With all three competitors on the mat, the referee was prepared to start a ten count, just before Walton had begun crawling onto all fours. In a matter of moments, Walton had used the ropes to help him get back to his feet, finding his other two opponents just barely beginning to crawl up to their feet. Walton realized he was the strongest standing competitor at this point in the match, and would definitely keep that in mind in this instance. He approached the two cautiously, not sure if they'd recuperate unexpectedly, or manage to snatch him to the mat. The pair were both getting up just at the moment, and Walton was unsure of who to grab. When the two did get up, both seemed focused on getting Walton. He backed up, but both instead charged him, hitting him with a double clothesline! Dwyer seemed pleased with the team work, but would quickly become disgusted when Rejection attempted to hit him with an axe kick, which Dwyer managed to dodge! Rejection had his back turned to Dwyer, and right away he took advantage! Pat pushed Rejection stomach first into the turnbuckle, forcing him to gasp from loss of breath. Dwyer wanted to make this opportunity good, and that he did, hoisting Rejection up onto the top turnbuckle. He climbed up right behind him, grabbing a hold of his waist, and using all of his strength to toss Rejection to the mat with a huge GERMAN SUPLEX! The sickening thud of Rejection's back hitting the canvas echoed in the arena, and all of the fans roared upon the impact! All three men were down on the canvas, all trying to reach down with all they got and get up before the next! Pat Dwyer and Rejection were both still stunned from the impact, but Mat Walton was crawling across the ring, and managed to hook his arm just over the body of the fallen Rejected one! One… Two… Thre-So close! But just couldn't put him away! Walton rolled off of Rejection, wondering what else he could possibly do to get him elminated. Instead, he scrambled over to Dwyer, and rolled him up as tight as he could. The ref came down again for a count. One... Two... Thr-But this too wasn't meant to be. Dwyer threw a shoulder up in what Walton thought was a long two count. Mat sat up trying to put strategy together in his head as fast as he could. As he did so, he saw that Rejection was starting to come to life. He decided that his focus would be to shift over to Rejection, for now. Not wanting to waste what precious advantage he had he immediately nailed a falling drop kick that put Rejection down on the mat again. He shot back up to his feet as quick as he could and locked Rejection in a half boston crab. He placed his body against Rejection as best he could and wrenched back on the big man's leg. Rejection started slamming the mat in pain, not to tap out, but with a fist of pain doused in anger. There was no way that Walton was breaking this hold. From out of the corner of his eye though he noticed Dwyer had gotten to his feet. For a split second he didn't know if he should get a defense up or to pray that he'd help with taking out Rejection. All his thinking was in vain as Dwyer clobbered him with a clothesline that dropped him to the mat. Rage in his eyes he rained down on Walton with an increasing amount of hard hitting kicks. He wrapped his hands around the top rope to get better leverage and started throwing more power into less kicks. He no longer was focused on getting Walton out of the way but removing him from the match altogther. The ref managed to pry himself between Dwyer and the ropes and shoved him away, warning him with disqualification. With the pause in action he checked on Rejection, but merely gave him a knee drop to the back before being content with his condition. Walton rolled over onto his back. He was looking at the ceiling with no clear idea of what was going on. Before he knew it Dwyer had him picked up again and whipped into the corner. Walton's body smacked against the turnbuckles with a violent snap. He fell back, the ropes being the only thing keeping him standing. Dwyer charged across the ring and slammed into Walton with a spear. Walton's body was ready to fall forward but Dwyer lifted him up and made sure he was still standing. As he did so, Rejection was moving up to his knees. He sat hunched over still though, catching a break and trying to catch his breath. Dwyer had one arm around Walton's body and the other across the back of his head. With a firm grip on him he drove his knee into Walton's mid-section. Feeling Walton practically collapse against him he realized that Walton was done for. Grabbing onto Walton's arms he shoved him between his legs. Wrapping his arms around his mid-section Dwyer had him set-up for the Rocky Road. But before he could hoist Walton up he felt Rejection locking him up from behind. He felt pressure trying to force his arms up. Finally he couldn't hang on anymore and Rejection had him locked up in a full nelson. Walton fell against the mat on his back with the hold being broken and looked up as he saw Dwyer come up, and then down with a full nelson slam that barely missed him on the way down. Laying an arm across Dwyer the ref began the count. One... Two...Another kickout. All three men were on the mat. Rejection had the better share than the others as he was seemingly in control. He started to get to his feet when he noticed that Walton was beginning to stir as well. Dwyer had done most of the work for him already so he thought that there was an opportunity to finally get the match down to two men. Rejection was on his feet just as Walton was getting himself situated. He threw a wild punch just to throw Walton off-guard, but Walton caught it and kicked hard at the left knee of Rejection. He buckled when he got hit but still managed to stay up. Walton ran back against the ropes and nailed Rejection with a clothesline, but he didn't go down. So Walton charged up and tried again. But still, Rejection held his ground. Walton threw a few quick forearms and tried one last time. However, this time, Rejection was fully aware of what was happening and lifted Walton up. But he misjudged the momentum the Marvelous One had and the two stumbled backward. But once they hit the ropes there was no place for them to go, and they both went backwards over the top rope, their bodies falling into a cluttered thud on the ground. Dwyer was starting to show signs of life in the ring while the two men on the outside still remained motionless. He crawled across to the side where the action was and rested on the edge of the ring. Walton, who managed to fall on top of Rejection, rolled off and crawled toward the ring steps. He rested himself on the second step as Rejection started grabbing for the ring apron. Walton got to his feet just as Rejection started to pull himself up with the ring apron. Walton looked first at Rejection, then back at Dwyer. Rejection looked to Mat, and nodded his head in the direction of Dwyer. Walton looked confused for a minute, and then jetted up the turnbuckles as fast as he could. Rejection grabbed onto Dwyer and pulled half his body out of the ring but held him up so that he wouldn't fall off. Walton steadied himself on the top rope and jumped. Mid-way through the air he saw the sinister smile of Rejection and realized he had been deceived. Shooting his leg straight out he nailed Walton in mid-air with a side kick. Walton dropped down to the ground but sent Rejection back a bit with the force he had behind his jump. Dwyer grabbed onto the bottom rope and swung his legs around to the outside. Seeing an easier target in Walton he lifted him up and reared his fist back. But before he could throw anything he felt Rejection grab on. "This is my fight!" were the words that everyone in the arena heard as he spun Dwyer around to face him and drove his knee into his mid-section. Locking him up he spun around before slamming him onto his knee in a pendulum back breaker. Looking on the damage he had done Rejection nodded to himself in approval. What he wasn't doing was paying attention to Walton. With a diving tackle he took out the left leg of Rejection and left him on his back on the outside. Walton sprung up to his feet and landed an elbow drop that hit Rejection in the chest. He got himself back up again and started exchanging kicks between Dwyer and Rejection. The crowd cheered him on, trying to give him as much momentum as their voices would. Walton rolled into the ring and walked across to the other side, resting against the ropes once he got there. Looking back, he waited to see signs of life from either man. Rejection was first to act, hobbling a little bit as he got up. He favored his left knee as the pain in it became more and more dominant every time he he put weight on it. He turned to see Dwyer also starting to move to his feet. He looked at Walton he still remained standing in the ring. He took this as an invitation and started to roll into the ring. But before he was fully in he felt a tug. Dwyer was holding onto his legs. He pulled back with everything he had to slide him out and sure enough he was back on the outside. Rejection turned his back on Walton just a second before he took off. Dwyer ducked a punch that Rejection threw and rolled out of the way. Just as Dwyer cleared himself Walton sprung over the top rope and took down Rejection. Walton rolled through when he hit and managed to get to his feet quick enough. But Dwyer was already waiting for him and the two locked up on the outside. Dwyer threw a knee into Walton though and got the advantage. He dropped Walton with a single arm ddt and didn't waste any time getting back up to his feet. By now Rejection was starting to get himself back up as well. Dwyer grabbed onto him and rolled him back into the ring. Dwyer stood up and waited for Rejection to get up. Just as he started to Dwyer nailed him with a hard forearm. Rejection collapsed against the mat and Dwyer stood defiantly. He looked around the arena. The pause gave the audience a chance to come down on him with taunts and jeers. Dwyer simply inhaled deeply, taking in all the hate and fueling himself with it. Rejection rested on his knees and Dwyer was ready give him another forearm. But without seeing it ahead of time Rejection grabbed onto his legs and pulled them out from underneath him. Rejection rolled back and climbed up to his feet, trying to put distance between him and Dwyer. Walton was coming to on the outside and started to climb to his feet. Dwyer was already up by the time Walton was sliding into the ring, but paid no attention to him. He merely focused on Rejection and charged at him with a spinning elbow smash. Rejection managed to duck away from it and lashed out backward with a hook kick that nailed Dwyer against the corner. He hoisted him up and set him onto the top turnbuckle. Before he could mount an offense though, Walton came flying from behind with a clothesline. Walton spun him around and whipped him into the ropes, but Rejection reversed it. When Walton came back he was ready and lashed out again, this time looking to land The Bell Chime. Walton managed to run underneath the spinning hook kick and bounced off the ropes. This time he wasn't so lucky and dropped to the mat, feeling the full effect of The Bell Chime. Rejection turned back to take care of Dwyer, but he was already flying through the air. He nailed Rejection just in time and landed a diving shoulder tackle that took him to the ground. Rolling over top of Rejection, Dwyer had the cover. One... Two... Thre...No! Rejection managed to get a shoulder up. Dwyer rolled off but laid still on his front, trying to figure out what to do next. Rejection was starting to come around when he saw that Walton was still out. Dwyer crawled over to Walton and was about to hook his legs to make a secure cover when Rejection nailed him with a kick that sent him away from Walton. Rejection kept murmuring "mine" as he rolled to Walton and draped an arm across him. One... Two... Three... ...Ed Gates shook his head no, and held up two fingers. Rejection laid there in disbelief for a moment before starting to climb to his feet. Dwyer had already gotten onto his knees by the time Rejection was up and it was the two of them again. Rejection made a move toward Dwyer but he didn't have a chance to defend himself from Dwyer's roundhouse kick. Rejection was merely slumped back against the ropes but he definitely wasn't sitting pretty. Dwyer grabbed onto him and whipped him across the ring. He came off the ropes just fine, but halfway there he came down from Walton's dop toe hold that no one saw coming. Dwyer especially was amazed as he watched Walton climb up first to his knees, and then onto his feet. He rocked back a bit, but raised his fists up and waved Dwyer on. The fans were going crazy, for the confidence that Walton was showing and the animosity that it was causing Dwyer. This was something that Dwyer simply could not stand. He charged at Walton but he ducked underneath it only to jump up from behind and come down with a neckbreaker. He got back up, albeit with some hesitation, and readied himself for his next attack. As Dwyer was getting up Walton gave him a hard kick to the mid-section and locked him up. He dropped him down with a jumping arm breaker. After they came down though, he slid himself back a little bit and locked Dwyer into an armbar. This was not a good situation. Walton had his foot pressed hard against Dwyer's shoulders and was in a perfect place to keep the hold on for as long as he needed to. The only thing that would happen was Dwyer tapping, or Walton's arms giving out. And then, Rejection happened. He bounced off the ropes and jumped up to come down with a leg drop on Walton, only, but Walton managed to roll out of the way in time. He let himself roll out of the ring and landed on his feet. He backed away before turning around just in case and saw Rejection starting to roll out. Walton mad a dash and slid back into the ring picking up Dwyer as soon as he got balanced. Rejection rolled back into the ring with an angry sneer on his face. Just as he got to his feet he saw Walton whip Dwyer into him. Dwyer managed to use this to his advantage though, and jumped up with his leg outstretched when he was close enough. He nailed Rejection in the chest and forced him back against the ropes. Looking over his shoulder he saw Walton coming from behind, so he lunged backward with a spinning elbow smash. He dropped Walton to the mat but yelled out in pain as he grabbed onto his arm, the same one that Walton had locked onto. Grabbing onto his bad arm Dwyer hesitated a second too long in nursing his injury. Rejection was coming at him and fast. He didn't have a chance to get an offense so he covered himself with his arms. Rejection had thrown a forearm so Dwyer managed to dodge that bullet, but when Rejection locked him up he wasn't as lucky. Hoisting him up Rejection brought Dwyer back with a northern lights suplex. One... Two... Thr-Dwyer kicked out before the ref's hand could come down a third time. Rejection got back to his feet and was sidelined by Walton. Just like before he hit him with a clothesline that wasn't strong enough to knock him down. Walton, quick to learn, didn't try a second attempt. He stayed right where he was and grabbed onto Rejection's sides and threw his shoulder into him. Rejection slumped over in pain, but Walton nailed him again. With ease he landed a headscissor takedown. As soon as he hit the mat he was scrambling over to the corner. He climbed up the ropes sloppily but managed to catch his balance in no time. Leaping into the air he nailed the phoenix splash. Simply Marvelous. Grabbing onto Rejection's legs he hooked him in tight. One... Two... Three... ... ... Walton thought it was over. It had to be. This was the end of Rejection. But when he looked to Gates he simply shook his head. Walton couldn't believe it. This simply could not be. He covered Rejection again but the same thing happened: a kick-out a split second before three could hit. Walton rolled off and sat on his knees. He looked at Rejection. The beast was starting to roll onto his side. And then Walton snapped. He crawled on top of Rejection and started throwing punches like crazy. His face was a picure of anger that he had no outlet to express. The ref grabbed onto the back of him and started pulling him away but Walton still tried to throw punches at Rejection. He wasn't thinking clearly anymore and desired only to inflict pain. Paying no attention to him, Dwyer was on his feet and ready. He slammed against Walton, who in turn slammed against the ref, and both men were down. Dwyer saw the opportunity he had presented himself with and slid out of the ring. He threw up the ring apron and started digging around. With a smile that that gave a face to violence he pulled out a chair. He threw it over the top rope and slid underneath the bottom on. At the same time, Rejection was starting to pull himself up with the ropes. Walton was also crawling past the ref so that he could find a vacant spot to get himself up. Dwyer grabbed onto the chair and slammed it against the mat. He raised it up and looked at both men, deciding which one deserved it the most. The answer was both, so he went with who was getting up quicker. That would've been Rejection, as Dwyer swung the chair loosely. Rejection just managed to duck beneath it. He turned around to try and get an offense going to get it out of Dwyer's hands. But, without warning, the chair was thrown at him. He caught it by the sides, then realized what was happening. Dwyer's kick went straight through the chair, but Rejection had just managed to drop away to the side beforehand. The chair bounced over to Walton who had just stood up. Dwyer looked at him with a mask of contempt to cover his very real fear that his plan would work against him. Walton picked up the chair groggily as Rejection came from behind Dwyer. He clobbered him in the back with a forearm and then turned him around for an inverted ddt. The ref was starting to stir in the corner as Walton came across the ring with the chair. He started swinging it wildly, not even close to Rejection but still keeping a shield of power around him. Rejection lifted Dwyer up and whipped him across the ring in time to get nailed in the head with Walton's chair. Walton let the chair fall after feeling the effects of it hitting Dwyer and kicked it out of the ring. The ref was crawling to the ropes and leaned against them so that he could at least see the match to try and obtain order. Walton started to stumble forward to put Dwyer out but was clocked with a right hand by Rejection. With a kick to the gut he had Walton ready and locked up for the end. He hoisted him up by the throat, and then came down to the mat. Rejected. One....... Two...... Three...... After a long count the bell finally rang, signalling the first elimination. It came in the form of Mat Walton. Rejection had scored the first pin-fall of the match. Now, only he and Dwyer remained now. The ref brought himself up to his feet but kept himself leaning against the ropes. Before Walton could even roll out of the ring Rejection was over and covering Dwyer. Gates was slow in getting to them though. One...... Two....... Three...No! In what Rejection argued was a slow count the ref argued was only a two-count. Dwyer was still in. Rejection sat on his knees for a moment. He was just getting his momentum going and didn't want to get slowed down now. He stood up and brought Dwyer along with him. With a hard Irish whip he had Dwyer in the corner. He took his time walking over to him, but when he got there he gave him a hard elbow across the jaw. Dwyer was bent over the top rope but Rejection let him stay there for a moment as he tried to figure out what to do with him. He reached around and dragged him out to the middle of the ring and then ran his head into the turnbuckle. That was the plan. Dwyer managed to shove Rejection ahead of him, and the Rejected One hit the turnbuckle instead. It only slowed him down a bit, but it was all Dwyer needed. He jumped onto the second rope in the corner and grabbed onto Rejection's head. He threw punch after punch, each one rocking Rejection's head back. Rejection finally managed to block Dwyer's punch, but before he could retaliate, Dwyer locked his arms around his head and dropped down in the twisted form of a front slam. Dwyer rolled off to the side and caught his breath. As he was getting to his feet Rejection was also starting to get himself stood up. Dwyer ran to the ropes and bounced off with a falling drop kick that caught Rejection in the head. His body fell to the mat with his head snapping violently along with it. Dwyer was getting himself geared up. He was ready to do anything he needed to now. Dwyer was on his feet and waiting for Rejection. He paced around him, trying to come up with a quick way to put Rejection down. Rejection was already starting to rise up to his knees when Dwyer sprung into action. He bounced off the ropes but instead of trying to take Rejection down he merely jumped behind him and locked in a sleeper hold. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep him locked up like that for long though with their height difference. So instead he started bending Rejection back into a Dragon Sleeper. It was still hard for him to try and keep the hold locked in, but he managed. He put all the power he had behind him and started to lift Rejection up, getting ready to bring him down in a dragon sleeper suplex. He lifted up with all he had, and actually managed to get Rejection up and over. They came down rough but he was still able to actually pull off the move. No one could beleive it, least of all the ref, but he still went down for the count. One... Two... Th- But it still wasn't enough. Dwyer was as outraged as Walton was earlier. He simply did not know what was going on. Anything he threw at Rejection didn't work. He got himself back up to his feet and brought Rejection with him. He whipped him into the ropes again, but this time he went for a clothesline. Rejection managed to duck underneath it but stopped himself when he hit the ropes. Dwyer thought he could get the upper hand and charged after him, but Rejection came at him with an elbow. He couldn't capitalize though he was so tired out. He simply hung onto the ropes and waited for Dwyer to come back at him. Only Dwyer didn't come after him. Instead he went for another roundhouse kick. Rejection hung onto the top rope and let himself fall towards the mat. Dwyer didn't give him a chance to pick himself up and grabbed onto him just as he was bringing himself up. He whipped him across the ring into the ropes, but Rejection reversed it. Dwyer went across the ring, but Rejection followed close to him. Dwyer bounced off and got a huge body flip from Rejection. Dwyer hit the mat after some major hang time with a thud. Rejection was finally back in control of the match. However, he was wore out, and knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with Dwyer much longer. He hung against the ropes and waited as Dwyer got up to his feet. He rushed Rejection again but Rejection got his arm behind Dwyer and flung him over the top rope. Rejection turned his back on the whole thing, unaware that Dwyer had managed to hang onto the top rope. He pulled himself back up, and waited for Rejection to turn around. When he did, he threw his shoulder into him through the ropes, and then grabbed onto his head to snap it off the top rope. Dwyer dropped down to the outside and grabbed onto Rejection's legs. He yanked them out from underneath him, and slid him out of the ring. He let his body fall into a heap on the floor. Dwyer bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Once he saw Rejection start to move he knew his break was over. He grabbed onto Rejection and whipped him into the ring post. But at the last second Rejection reversed it, and sent Dwyer flying against it. Dwyer was on all fours as Rejection stalked over to him. The first thing he did was send a hard kick into his ribs. After that he lifted Dwyer back up and brought him down with a double underhook suplex. He grabbed onto Dwyer and rolled his lifeless body back into the ring. He took a moment to look around, then followed suit. Rejection paused for a minute, hunched over. His left leg was starting to bother him again. He managed to persist through it though, and brought Dwyer up. He locked him up and lifted him up for a fisherman's suplex. He couldn't get Dwyer up though, and soon realized that Dwyer had hooked his leg around Rejection's. Rejection planted his feet down for more stability and tried again. But Dwyer managed to block it once more. Fighting out of the grip Rejection had, Dwyer managed to turn Rejection around. He kicked as hard as he could and landed a falling drop kick that hit Rejection in the back of both knee's. Rejection let out a yell of pain and dropped down onto his knees. Dwyer hopped back up and jumped forward, grabbing onto Rejection's head on the way down and slamming it against the mat. Dwyer rolled to the side and shot back up. He didn't even make a move, he just waited. He looked at Rejection with disgust and hatred. The combination was all he needed to take him down for good. He waited until Rejection was halfway up when he ran against the ropes and made his move. He came off the ropes just as Rejection was on his feet and gave him a clothesline that sent him back a bit. Grappling with him he set him up for the Last Scoop. Rejection fought out of it though and whipped Dwyer against the ropes. Dwyer came off and ducked underneath Rejection's clothesline but stopped himself. When Rejection turned around he locked him up again and this time he scored with the Last Scoop. He dropped down and made the cover. One...... Two....... Three....... ....... .......NO! Rejection kicked out at the last second. Dwyer was furious. He rolled off Rejection and slammed his fist against the mat. He walked over to the corner and climbed up to the top rope. Setting himself up, he jumped off with his elbow tightened up. He was coming down onto the only target he had in the world: Rejection. And he missed. At the last second Rejection managed to roll off to the side. Dwyer just barely missed, but he missed none the less and came down on the mat alone. Rejection laid an arm across Dwyer hoping to capitalize on his mistake. One...... Two...... Thre- Dwyer got a shoulder up before three could hit. Rejection slowly started to get to his feet. Dwyer was nursing his arm but not moving other than that. Rejection was on his feet and ready, but his leg was giving him problems standing level. He leaned against the ropes and tried to shake it out of him. Without noticing him, Dwyer was getting up on his feet. Rejection turned to see him just in time to duck underneath a wild haymaker. Rejection threw a punch of his own that connected. Dwyer threw one of his own and he scored as well. Exchanging blows in the middle of the ring both men were just wearing each other down. But Rejection already was, and he was landing less punches. He threw one final blow that he hoped would put Dwyer down, but he blocked it. He charged Rejection and drove him back into the ropes with his shoulder. He grabbed onto the middle rope and drove his shoulder into Rejection once more. He grabbed onto him and Irish whipped Rejection across the ring but Rejection reversed it. Dwyer came off the ropes and jumped up, looking to come down from above with a clothesline. It worked, and he took Rejection off his feet for the first time of the night with a clothesline. It could've only been a sign of the end. He grabbed onto Rejection once more and whipped him into the ropes. Dwyer himself bounced off the opposite side and planned to collide in the middle. Rejection stopped himself though, grabbing loosely at the ropes. He barely managed to grab hold by the time Dwyer was on his way back. But Rejection was ready. He ducked underneath Dwyer's clothesline and let him bounce off the ropes again. This time though, he ran into the waiting hands of Rejection. He clenched them around Dwyer's throat and hoisted him up. Dwyer was moving so fast that Rejection didn't have time to stop him all the way. Instead, when he lifted him up, they were starting to fall back, so he immediately dropped down with Dwyer. Both men hit the mat, but Dwyer hit like a sack of bricks underneath the slam of Rejection. Pat Dwyer had just been Rejected. One...... Two...... Three...... ...... ....... Three. The bell rang for the second time of the match, finally signalling its end. Dwyer had fought hard throughout but couldn't make it in the end. He put up a good fight but it just wasn't enough against Rejection, even when he was tired out. One thing was clear, Rejection was laying waste to everything in his path. he had gone through three men back-to-back and still managed to come out on top. The only thing that remained, was did he have enough left in him to start his Dynasty? Winner: Rejection via Pinfall
Footsteps echoed backstage, the atmosphere was quite, and no one was around as Silverstreak entered the arena with his son closely following behind him. Streak reached back and grabbed his hand, leading him through the halls backstage. There weren’t very many people that knew about young, James Tyler, except for his mother and father who watched over while he was gone. But while Brock was gone, James watched his father on television never missing a show. James looked up to his father. He was his role model. And tonight, was James birthday. He was ten years old, just old enough to attend a live wrestling event Brock thought. So tonight, he brought him to work. As he carried his gym bag in his left hand and James’ hand in his other, a smile glistened in the lights. Tonight, Streak had no match to work, or no worries. Tonight, it was just him and James, together watching Domination. Streak entered his dressing room and laid his possessions on the floor. James scurried around the room, disappointment for a reason. This wasn’t what he expected; there were no carpet on the ground, or nice paintings on the wall. Just a few seats and a cold concrete floor. “Dad, where’s the TV?” he asked as he looked around the room for the television set. Silverstreak only smirked, “Son, you have to work hard to obtain things like that; sometime dad will have a luxurious dressing room, but for tonight we’ll have to go out to the lobby and watch the show there.” James let out a disappointing sigh, the look in his eyes hurt Streak on the inside. He knew his son expected the red carpet and the whole show, but when Streak spotted a teardrop wiggle down his cheek he realized that from this day on, he would work hard to obtain the things James wanted, and no one would stop him from pleasing his son. “Well son, let’s go grab a seat, and watch the show before Blake is up.” He told James. “Okay.” Streak smiled lightly and led James through the door.
A Moment of Torment “Excuse me,” came a voice off to the side, as Andrew Martin walked down the hall. “Mr. Saunders, correct?” He pointed to himself, thinking a moment and nodded. He was indeed Andrew Martin, but what was the hard in pretending to be the giant. Dressed in a black suit and tie, the man walked up to Andrew, and held out a manila envelope for him. “Delivery for you.” Martin looked at the envelope with curiosity while the man just looked at him. “Thanks”, he said as he turned around and headed towards the real Spike Saunders’s locker room. “Heh more manila fun. Just wait till Spi…” His words were cut off; as he was stopped by sheer force as the man known as Torment stepped from the shadows. His mask hiding any facial contortion, it was evident still he was staring at Martin. Andrew had found himself shaking; his knee’s barely able to support his own weight. “Martin,” his voice boomed. “The time draws near. Are you prepared?” Confused, Andrew turned his face away from Torment, and started back down the hall, only to be caught in the grip of Torment. “Are you afraid, Martin?” his voice boomed yet again, this time with a hint satisfaction. “Fear is only the beginning.” Andrew shook his head, and smacked the man’s hands off of his arm, turning tail and fleeing down the hall. Torment watched, and growled. It was a growl of animalistic hunger. “The age is nigh…” He arched his head back, looking towards the ceiling, but quite likely something much higher was in his sight. Chuckling, something that Torment hardly ever did, he vanished back in the shadow’s he emerged from.
Transition Game The door to the locker room swung open. Standing in the doorway with a towel and a t-shirt on was Blake Gray. There was no look of anger, no look of happiness, no look of emotion at all. Gray stared straight ahead. The young athlete who had been through an amazing match with Rejection but lost stood at the doorway to the locker room on his way back out to the ring for his second match; the match he had been scheduled for long before the Dynasty Championship had ever come into the picture. Across the threshold of the door way stepped Gray as he strode into the hallway backstage of the Stabler Arena. There was no one in the hallway but Gray as he began the already familiar walk to the ring entrance position. Things had to be different for this fight, Gray knew that. “Blake!” a woman’s voice called. “Can I get a word with you for a moment?” It was the voice of Allison Cadence calling. The young no brand Wrestling reporter had made it almost a weekly ritual to dive inside the mind of Blake Gray. She approached almost in a run from the right side of the camera’s view holding her microphone. Blake stopped and looked at Allison. “I do not want to bother you,” Allison explained. “I just needed to know, have you recovered from your earlier loss? Are you at one-hundred percent for this fight with Callie Urban?” The amateur wrestler looked at Allison Cadence and said nothing. He was silent and Cadence did not know what to say. But Gray spoke finally after a length of at least five seconds of silence. “Allison, you are never at one-hundred percent. If you were ever able to give one-hundred percent of effort, what would you have to strive for?” Gray answered. “What would you have to offer the next time you stepped out in the ring?” “Well, I suppose you have a point,” Allison said as she thought about Gray’s words. He spoke again. “I know what you are implying though. You want to know if I am in the condition to fight after the beating Rejection gave me. You want to know if I can still go out there and fight Callie Urban given the fact I just wrestled close to a thirty-minute match against Rejection less than thirty minutes ago. Am I right?” Allison did not speak. She only thought for a minute. There was really no way to put it other than how Blake had though. “Yes, I guess that is what I am trying to say,” Allison replied. “Whether I am tired or bruised, bloodied or broken, it doesn’t matter,” Blake said slowly. “What matters, Allison, is that I have something I have to do. For two months, Callie Urban has gotten the better of me. For two months, Callie Urban has tried to humiliate me here. She has run me down with her big mouth, attacked me from behind, smacked me in the face, and kicked me while I was down—and even when I wasn’t.” There was a pause by Gray as he thought for a minute and Allison Cadence stood listening. “I am not running anymore.” Gray paused again. “Rejection could have broken my arm, leg, or neck before. I was coming out here to finish this once and for all no matter what. Callie Urban has fought one match tonight and so have I. If she is not careful, she will not make it to fight Rejection for that Dynasty Championship tonight. I have a job to do and, damn it, I am going to do it.” The expression Blake Gray’s face had changed. He was confident and focused. He looked at Allison not with a smile or a wink but with his body standing tall, his eyes open, and his senses ready. Blake Gray’s eyes, as usual, were the defining factor in his appearance. He was ready to fight; it was clear in those dark blue eyes of his. Gray turned and walked away from Cadence as she had a small smile on her face. She believed in him. The question was: “Did anyone else?”
Cue the dimming of the house lights as “Do You Call My Name?” by Ra began for the second time at Domination. A single light shone down from the top of the arena, much in the way of a spotlight. Blake Gray stepped out from behind the curtains for the second time at Domination and the animated young man looked around with confidence as he had shaken off the defeat to Rejection. Dressed in his wrestling trunks and boots, Gray paced around in front of the entrance way taking a good look at the live audience. Slowly, Blake Gray began to make his way down the aisle toward the ring as that spotlight from above surrounded his figure and the floor at his feet. Approaching the ring, Blake Gray turned and placed a foot on the steps. He began to walk up each step and when he reached the top, he stood at the outer edge of the ring grabbing the ropes. As referee Jerry Peterson stood in the ring awaiting the commencement of a match anticipated for well over a month, Gray scanned the crowd with his eyes. The reception for Gray was a positive one as fans were cheering the young man, for reasons which continued to bewilder management. He held the ropes and leaned back, jumping up and catapulting himself off the second rope into a high jump and inside the ring. “More Bounce (In California)” overtook the sound speakers and Blake Gray’s head immediately turned to look at the entrance as Callie Urban made her way from behind the curtains. Urban had already fought as well, defeating Lunatic in a hard fought tournament match. As soon as the crowd saw the woman that had been making the lives of many wrestlers hell, they were up on their feet booing and jeering the young woman. Callie paid them no mind as she strutted to the ring, her trademark sunglasses covering her eyes, a smirk on her face for more reasons than one. Sliding beneath the lowest rope to the ring, Callie held her arms up as he mounted her feet and took in the crowd’s reaction. After a few seconds she took a deep bow and came back up, shooting the already agitated crowd the bird and smiling as they became even more angered. The intense look in Blake Gray’s eyes told his thoughts as he was not pleased with this pairing. He was doing he job though and his job meant he had to humiliate Callie Urban. She, on the other hand, had wanted this for two months. Callie had the opportunity to finally pull a win over the man who has been considered nbW’s most sound wrestler by some. Ding! Ding! Ding! Three quick tolls signaled the start of the contest as Blake Gray and Callie Urban were in no hurry to rush from their opposing sides. Urban had a unique situation as she was scheduled to compete in the Dynasty Championship match against Rejection later in the night. Gray had the privilege of wrestling opening in this encounter for he lost to Rejection, something that surely would leave him even more spiteful if Urban managed to defeat the massive man later. Lock up they did as Urban cautiously waged forward and Gray shot for a collar and elbow grapple. In the clinch, Gray shoved Urban back with ease into the turnbuckles. Jerry Peterson stepped in and backed Gray off as he complied with the referee’s call. Urban stood against the corner and looked bitter at Gray’s attempt to show her up. Forward once more came Urban, a little less cautious this time as she let a right boot catch Gray in the stomach. He doubled over and clenched his stomach as Urban backed off the ropes and attempted a clothesline. Gray grabbed her as she wanted to connect and spun the young woman around! As she completed rotated around, Gray lifted Urban up and planted Callie with a high lifting hip-toss variation! Urban smacked into the hard canvas with great force and a yelp escaped her month from the pain flowing through her nerves. Gray looked down at the girl as he shook his head and dropped reluctantly for a pin-fall. One… Two— Urban broke the count with a forceful kick out! Looking straight up at the rafters, Blake looked aggravated that it was not yet over. It was no secret his intent to wrestle Urban was not high. But he grabbed the woman by the hair and lifted her to a vertical base. Hooking her shorts, Gray attempted a vertical suplex, holding Callie straight up in the air as if to make a statement to all those watching. However, the unplanned happened as Callie Urban slid down the shoulders and stood behind Gray! School boy roll up by Callie Urban! One… Two… Violent kick out by Blake Gray! Smacking the canvas in frustration, Gray turned and took a drop kick right to the face from Callie Urban! Dropped on his back, Gray lay holding his face as Callie Urban stood back and drove her smaller boot right into the chest and head of Gray as he barely fought her assault. Her offense was effective as Gray rolled around the ring to try and mount his feet. Callie relentlessly followed Gray through his commando roll and continued driving her boot forcefully into his torso. Gray managed to squeak to his feet and he took a nice barrage of forearms from Callie Urban who was at a definite size disadvantage against the amateur competitor. Gray stopped a forward punch from Urban and drove his knee right into her stomach, knocking her to her knees! Shaking off the attack he just was presented, Gray rubbed the back of his neck and stomped about until he reached Urban’s head and began raising her. As Callie stood on her feet, Gray showed a face of pure hesitation but reared back his right hand and drove it forward—striking Urban in the side of the face! It was an open hand shot, but it did its share of damage as Urban was rocked to her backside and rolled out of the ring in pain. Gray and referee Peterson were left in the ring with Peterson shouting at Gray for the shot he threw at the defenseless woman. Gray appeared remorseful but shook his head as he reached the ring ropes and started climbing out of the ring. As Blake dropped to the outside he reached down and pulled Urban to her feet again by the hair. Callie swung her arms out as if trying to grab something to hold herself from Gray, but there was nothing to grab. Gray took Urban and spun her about, throwing her back under the ropes and into the ring. Gray grabbed the apron and propped himself up, holding the ropes for leverage. As Gray took a moment to compose himself and think, he had given Urban enough time to reach her feet. She wasted no time running off the back ropes and coming forward at Gray— Shoving him off of the apron! Blake Gray soared through the air and fell hard on the floor outside the ring. Callie fell on the canvas, in fatigue or on purpose it is unknown, but the crowd was ready to rise to its feet in unison expecting a brawl outside the ring. Many were interested in Gray’s condition as he lied on the floor facedown, holding the back of his head from the impact it took. He barely presented with a paroxysm as he slightly flailed his right leg from the down position. Urban was ready to take advantage of the situation as he rolled out of the ring and approached Blake and this could have began to spell trouble for the amateur. Callie reached down and struggled to pull the young athlete to his feet, but his body practically cooperated with her. She hit him with a forearm right to the face, sticking to brawling tactics thus far, and backed Gray into the apron of the ring. With her hand taking his, Callie attempted to whip his body and succeeded— Blake Gray crashed sternum and ribs first into the steel guardrail separating ringside with the seats! Taking hold of Gray’s head and body, backing him up from the barricade, Callie Urban must have had something planned as she looked behind her. She positioned herself on the side of Gray and wrapped her leg around his with her hand around the back of his neck— Russian Leg Sweep on the thin protective ringside padding! “Oh!” The groan of the live Bethlehem crowd echoed in the Stabler Arena. The ball had been placed in Callie Urban’s court and she was making Gray pay for doubting her ability as a wrestler for the past two months. She stood on her feet and looked down at Blake as he held the back of his head in pain and winced, barely expending time to look at her. She threw her arm out and shrugged him off as she hopped on the apron of the ring. Turning her body, Callie looked at Blake Gray as he was slowly struggling to even ponder the idea of standing on his feet. She nodded as she watched his body begin going through the motions of standing. Callie had something planned and it was about to be executed as referee Jerry Peterson was not even bothering to bring about a ten-count for a disqualification. Peterson was letting these two solve their problem the way it was meant to be done. “Get up, candy-ass!” Urban’s shrill voice rang out. Gray was swaying on one knee as he planted one foot on the floor. He began to swing his body upward to stand but at that moment Callie Urban lounged off of the apron! Callie flew through the air the few feet to where Gray was struggling as she grabbed his head— Implant DDT! Straight into the hard padding at ringside went the head of Blake Gray. His brains had to have been scrambled as Callie was pulling out all the stops and fighting as if this was the only match for her. But she had already fought one match and had another to go after this match. Ending this quickly was on her mind; it was the only reasonable explanation for her actions. Rolling Gray into the ring and scurrying herself back inside to make a pin-fall was Callie Urban. One… Two… Three… Blake Gray somehow managed to kick out! “Two!” shouted Jerry Peterson as Callie Urban’s eyes opened in astonishment. Practically pulling out her hair, Urban looked at Peterson. “What did you say, hose-beast?” Urban shrieked and pointed to herself. “I won! That was three!” Peterson and Urban could have argued for days. Urban could have at least. But Callie turned and blew off the official as she took Gray by the head and started prying him from the canvas. She backed the young man into the turnbuckles and drove a hard forearm up into his face as his head swayed back. Callie went for a whip but Gray spun it around and sent Callie across the ring into the ropes. Surprised, Callie rushed back off the ropes trying a clothesline but Gray lifted her up— Flapjack! Urban bounced and stumbled around the ring and fell against the ropes and rolled into the corner holding her chest in pain. She had the wind taken out of her from that Flapjack and Blake Gray rushed in catching Urban with a body clothesline! Gray backed up and Urban sauntered forward as Gray grabbed her by the arms. He tucked her into a front chancery and lifted the young woman up into a stalling suplex—Dropping back and planting her with a textbook Vertical Suplex! There was no pin-fall as Gray slowly started to sit up. He took a moment to recover and regain his composure after the beating Callie had handed him. He was far from unscathed from it. The fact that he had just wrestled Rejection less than a half-hour again did not help the situation. Urban was lying on her back in pain as Gray rolled to his feet and reached back down for a handful of her hair to bring her up. Changing the pace completely, Gray wrenched the left arm of Callie Urban. He brought her arm behind her back into a hammerlock and proceeded to tug upward as she cried in pain. Slight whimpers escaped her vocal cords as she must have been going through mental motions of how to reverse the positioning. Callie tried to spin herself out of the hammerlock but Gray stayed a step ahead of her. She tried to catch Gray with an elbow but the shot barely seemed to face the young man. There was nothing left to do as she was unable to drag him around the ring. He had planted himself in the middle of the ring and was jerking that arm upward as if he planned to just tear her elbow and shoulder from their respective joints. Callie closed her eyes and had one last means of defense. She had to have been praying that it would work. A back swinging mule kick landed between the legs of Blake Gray! In a simpler manner of terms, Callie Urban caught Blake Gray with a low blow! His eyes widened and he staggered back releasing the hammerlock on Urban. The risk had paid off and Peterson looked at Gray unsure of what had happened. He could draw a logical conclusion seeing the young man cupping himself as he fell to his knees and Peterson turned and scolded Urban as she nursed her injured arm. Callie appeared to be listening, though one would bet she was not, as Gray tried to gather himself on the ground. Callie dropped and attempted a pin-fall, almost to rub the situation in Gray’s face. One… Two… As one would have guessed, Gray did kick out and sat up immediately in his frustration and continuing pain. Urban drove a stiff kick into the middle of his back and Blake stiffed up as he winced. Callie reached down and applied a modified chin-lock, pulling back on the head of Gray. He tried to shake himself loose but Callie released the chin-lock and went right for the cheap tactic of pulling open his cheeks and even forking her fingers into his eye socket. It was old-school brawling being used by Urban to try and cheat her way by Gray. The crowd ate it up as they booed and Gray tore away as she released him from the situation. Jerry Peterson was not happy and, of course, he let Urban hear another free lecture. “Come on! Keep it clean!” Peterson shouted at her as she ignored him. Reaching for Gray, Urban started pulling him right back to his feet. Blake surprised her by lifting her right up into the air. There was no real slam as he tried to bring her down but she also squirmed free. On her back and shoulders, Urban was fighting with her feet in this precarious position. Gray turned her over and applied a Single Leg Boston Crab immediately, but Urban was very close to the ropes and managed to reach back and lock her arms around them. “Break the hold!” Peterson yelled as he tapped Gray on the shoulders. Unlike his counterpart, Blake obeyed the rules and released the hold immediately. Urban sighed and started pulling herself upward again as Blake turned and grabbed her free arm. He whipped her across the ring and back she came ducking a clothesline from the amateur competitor. Blake turned and Callie went for a shot of her own which Gray blocked on her return. For a third time, Callie came off the ropes and fell right into the grasp of Gray, differently from the last two times— T-Bone Suplex! One… Two… Three— Bare kick out by Callie Urban as she held her shoulder up and clenched the back of her head! The expression on Blake’s face sold it as he looked at Urban who appeared barely responsive. How she had kicked out of that impact move was unknown to him. How she was even fighting in this match with him was unknown to him. Blake may have received a bit of punishment from Urban but his fatigue level was lower and his strength was noticeably superior. As Callie tried to sift the cobwebs from her cranium, Blake rose to his feet and took a stroll around the ring. Blake reached up with his right hand and slowly ran it through his head. He brought the hard around to his side and snapped it as sweat beaded from it as he appeared completely focused in on Urban. He pointed at her as his eyes followed her recovery. Callie reached her feet and walked right into a front chancery lock from Gray as he obviously was looking for “Peak Performance” at this point. Callie Urban countered with a very surprising Inside Cradle! One… Two… Three… Another near fall as Blake Gray managed to unlock himself and break free! Once again Callie Urban had used her speed and smaller size to try and catch Gray off-guard. But Gray’s counter speed and awareness was just as keen as he managed to foil her every attempt. The both of them rose to their feet again and Blake watched Callie rush with a desperation clothesline which he ducked! Gray brought that left arm up and around Urban’s arm locking it behind her head and following up with his right arm in the same fashion. The crowd rose and cheered on in excitement. Blake Gray was sinking in that Half Nelson-Crossface Submission! The “Vice Grip” was locked on and in full affectivity! Callie Urban could not keep her balance and fell right back on top of Blake Gray as they went down on the canvas. That submission was not broken and the crowd’s noise was not silenced. Blake began to rock around and sunk in the leg-scissors around Urban’s legs. She was more or less helpless lying on the canvas. There was going to be no way to fight out of the submission which had yet to be broken in no brand Wrestling competition. With no other choice, Callie Urban was forced to give up to the Vice Grip! No signal of a bell had yet come and Blake Gray showed no sign of releasing the hold as Urban was simply waving her hand in the air. She could not physically tap against Gray’s arm or body because of the configuration to the submission and the lack of reach in her arms. But Jerry Peterson stepped in and he was trying to tap Gray and get him to release the hold. Gray did not react immediately to the attempt. Ding! Ding! Ding! The bell sounded as Peterson had turned and waved for it. The crowd was still roaring but Gray did relinquish the hold and practically throw Urban from on top of him. He rose to his feet as Jerry Peterson turned to check on Urban. His hands were lifted by his own force over his head in victory as he seemed to refuse to look at Urban lying on the canvas in pain. She held her neck but the period which she was in the Vice Grip was no longer than ten-seconds in real-time; a lucky factor for her. As “Do You Call My Name?” by Ra rang out over the sound system, Blake mounted the turnbuckles and threw his hands up. His vengeance on Callie Urban had come, maybe not with the self-satisfaction of any other victory, but he had overcome the problem to step face-to-face with her and he defeated her, just as he promised to do. Urban was helped to the side of the ring where she sat to recover. Peterson turned back and lifted Gray’s arm to signal his victory officially as Blake then dropped to his back and rolled out of the ring. The whole way up the ramp, he did not turn back and look at Urban. His head and eyes never glanced to see the television screen which showed Urban nursing her pained neck. Gray just strode up through the aisle and even gave out some high-fives as he made his way to the curtain. Urban was left with the bitter taste of defeat in the ring. But her opportunity for redemption was still there— she had the Dynasty Championship match to come. Winner: Blake Gray via Submission
Confidence Destroyed "I'm sick of losing!" The voice of Mat Walton rung out. He had lost his triangle elimination match earlier in the night. Not only that, but he was the first person eliminated. "You need to calm down." The wise voice of Andrew Martin rung out. "I am NOT going to calm down!" Walton yelled, "Maybe if you had helped me out there." "You need to learn how to take a loss man." "Shut up!" Walton yelled, "Just shut up!" Martin picked up a chair and hurled it across the room, almost striking Mat. "Next time I won't miss." Martin said. Walton had tears swelling up in his eyes. How come his Uncle was treating him this way? "Screw you man, I'm out" And with that Mat picked up his gear and left the dressing room in a huff. Martin tried to chase after him but couldn't catch up to him as Walton slammed the door. Martin slumped down on the floor with his back against the door. Now he was the one who had tears in his eyes. Martin peered up to the ceiling, "What have I done?" He didn't have time to contemplate what exactly he had done as quickly there was a knocking at the door. Martin picked himself up off the ground and answered it. Standing before him was a man in a suit with an envelope in his hand. He gave the envelope to Martin and left without saying a word. He ripped open the envelope hoping it wasn't what he thought it was. And it wasn't. It was worse. The note read simply: Martin. Martin looked down at the envelope in shock. In a matter of minutes his night had gone from bad to worse. His Nephews confidence, as well as his relationship with his Uncle, had been destroyed. And now he had found out that in two weeks time they stood a very good chance of being physically destroyed. Forgive me Father for I have sinned.
Callie stormed backstage well and truly pissed off with the outcome of the match she’d just had with Blake Gray. She’d come so close! Sighing she tried to shake it off and tell herself that if she won the title tonight, she could still spit in his face. So far it wasn’t working. Rounding a corner she saw Spike Saunders running at her. His face registered surprise and he tried to stop before they collided. Too late and the both went sprawling to the ground. “Ya know, we have to stop meeting like this, ya can’t be throwing yourself at me every time ya see me.” Spike huffed in indignation but smiled soon after. Turning around he propped his back up against the wall and crossed his hands behind his head, leaving his legs draped over the woman on the floor. “Hey, excuse me ya big dummy, I’m still down here ya know!” Callie struggled to lift his legs off of her to no avail; she was stuck until he let her up. “Yep, and you’re the best leg rest I’ve had in a long time too.” The woman under him sighed. “Fine, ya win now lemme up!” Still smiling, Spike stood carefully, so as not to hurt her, before reaching down and offering his arm to pull her up. “Sir Spiker the brave. What had ya in such a hurry anyway?” The tall man looked down at his shoes and reached a big hand around to the back of his head sheepishly. “Well, I was kinda coming to check on you to make sure you were okay. And that you could still compete and all. I can go kick his ass for you.” Callie’s eyes lit up with an evil glee for a second before she shook her head no. What had been done was done; she’d have to focus on later. “That’s okay, I lost fair and square, and I need to think about my next match anyway.” Spike laughed and ruffled her hair. “Very good young Padawan, think to the future to OOMF!” Callie elbowed him in the stomach before he could finish his sentence. Then she became very serious as her conversation with Rejection ran through her mind. She needed to know about the notes, and she needed to know where she stood with Spike. She might as well ask him now, it was better than asking him right before his match; she didn’t want him to be distracted. “Hey, um Spike?” Having noted her serious turn, the big man sobered, wondering if she really was hurt from her last match. If he hurt her… “Yeah?” Sucking
in a breath, Callie trudged forward. Spike looked away, color rushing to his cheeks. Dammit, he hadn’t wanted her to know yet. Maybe if he denied it, she’d keep looking and he could wait a few more weeks.” “Notes? I don’t think I’ve seen anyone going into your locker room at all.” Callie winced slightly, but otherwise hid her disappointment. Well, at any rate she had one more name to cross off her list. She knew it was a stupid idea to ask him. Damn, she hoped she wasn’t blushing. Maybe she could get back to her locker room. “Oh, um, okay. Thanks, I was just wonderin’ that’s all. Oh, hey, I gotta run, I’ll talk to ya after the show, okay?” She turned to leave and Spike realized he felt like shit. Frak, he should have told her. Dammit, what would she do in a few weeks if he did reveal it was him? Probably give him a good hard kick in the jewels for lying to her. He’d spent all this time trying to gain her trust, he really didn’t want to throw it away on something that he should be man enough to admit. He caught her elbow before she walked too far and whirled her around. “You see, I haven’t seen anyone ELSE leaving notes for you, and I hope I wouldn’t, because I really want to be the only person leaving you notes in this company.” He hoped he made the right choice as a smirk split her face and she gave a small laugh. “Did ya now? This certainly makes things interesting. I’ll come catch ya after my match with Rejection. Don’t be trying to sneak off anywhere, I’ll find ya,” she mock-threatened. Not quite sure what to say, Spike wished her luck on her match. “Okay, and when you get back you’d better be wearing title gold missy!” That got a smile out of her and she squeezed his hand before turning around and skipping down the hall. Right before she went into the locker room she paused and turned back to face him. “By the way Spike, the flowers taste like shit! Screw ya later!” And then she was through the door, leaving Spike in the hallway alone, still unsure if her response was totally positive. Wait a minute, what about the flowers?
Triple Threat!? Allison Cadence stood in front of the locker room, preparing to do a one on one with the giant known as Spike Saunders. She adjusted her hair, and even straightens up her bra and breast wanting to get attention. Spike’s not hard on eyes, as people would say; and Allison knew that. With her min in hand, and the camera behind her, she knocked on his door. A grumbled ‘come in’ was heard, and she pushed the door open. Her jaw dropped at the sight. The seven foot three giant was doing pushups off of the bench once again. She could remember the last time she walked in on this situation and glad to do it again. Her eyes traveling the course of his body, watching as the sweat glistened down his chest and over his muscles. She had to pull herself together. “Spike”, she said as her eyes continued to dance around his body. “I’m hoping to get a few words with you, before your big match tonight.” He nodded his head, and pulled himself back up to his feet; his hand pulling the towel off the bench to wipe the sweat off of his forehead and hung it on his shoulders. The whole time Allison’s eyes didn’t flinch; of course Spike would notice and just grin. “Hello again Allison. You look ravishing as always” he said with a small smile. True she was great to look at, but his mind was on someone else, even if that someone might be upset with him. Spike knew he should have lied to Callie about the Admirer stuff… He knew it, but his conscious wouldn’t allow it. “Well let’s start, shall we?” Spike nodded his head in agreement. “Good. So, obviously you’re up in the clouds right now being the number one Contender for the World Title; so what are your thoughts on that?” “Well Allison, I can’t be like the rookies and say it’s a dream come true, because frankly it isn’t. But it is a great honor to have the shot at the title, and knowledge that I could very well win it and carry the nbW for quite some time.” “And what about the people you beat last week to earn this spot?” “The Don and Uncensored. Hmm… Well The Don should have been expecting carnage from Jason Kain. It’s too bad that Loony got involved, although I do have him to thank for the chair not connecting with my skull. Weird fellow, there. As for Uncensored, he had a chance, but didn’t really care. Heck he wasn’t even putting his all into the match. Sad really…” “Agreed of course. So let’s step back from that match, and why don’t you tell me what you think of the Dynasty Championship Tournament, and the two contenders that are headed to the finals; Callie Urban, and Rejection.” Spike smiled. He knew that the match would be a good one. “They’ve fought hard tonight, and I have no doubt that they will fight even harder in the finals. One of them will take the strap, and the other will retrieve his or her respect. Either way, they’re both great fighters, and it’ll be a heck of a match tonight.” “I suspect so,” she said. “And what about the I Quit match between Jason Kain and The Don?” “I have no idea what’s between these two. But I expect that Kain will get his just deserts against The Don. We’ll just have to wait and see…” “Spike, there’s one question on everyone’s mind, and that is this. What is up with these mysterious visitors you keep getting? Are you in the Mafia? Or something similar?” “Sorry Allison, but I need to get ready for my match. I finally have a one on one bout with Jack Owyns, and I intend on bringing nothing but my ‘A’ Game and a little more. Tonight the fans will get a very special treat of Jack Owyns defending his nbW Championship title against the seven foot three colossus Spike Saunders...” “…And Uncensored” came the voice behind Spike, as he whipped around to see Uncensored standing there with his arms crossed. The two’s eyes locked in a death stare. “What the fuck are you looking at bitch?” Uncensored knew how to get under Spike’s skin just as well as Spike knew how to get under his. Spike did everything he could to hold his temptations of beating the hell out of this miserable piss-ant right then and there. Eventually, he was able to keep his cool. “Don’t even answer that. Cause you’re looking at the next nbW World Heavyweight Champion, bitch!” Uncensored smiled. He felt as if he was on a role tonight. He was the king of his own mountain nothing would possibly bring him down. “You wanna talk about me not giving it my all in the main event last week? It’s simple: I didn’t have to. I knew that I still had a rematch clause and I knew I could use it whenever I wanted. So, I wanted to make sure that you won the main event last week. I did that for one reason: Not only will I take back MY TITLE, but I’ll also do it by kicking your big ass.” Uncensored scoffed before he started to walk away. He smacked his right hand on Spike’s chest as he walked past, “Just think about that, bitch.” Spike was ready to explode. He was taking in enormous breaths. He watched on as Uncensored continued to walk on down the corridor.
Mind of the Champion, Pt. 1 How would it end? The though had become very haunting. It had become almost worst, then the most painful migraine headache you could ever think of. No matter what, nobody wants to lose something so valuable to them that they had won. He had put his life on the line, for this title. There was no way in hell, he was going to let somebody like Uncensored or Spike Saunders take that from him. This had become his glory. This had become his child. This…this had become everything in his world that ever gave him a bit of meaning. Moreover, to lose it, to two people that wouldn’t even deserve a pat on the back, after taking there first steps. “Come on Jack, you can‘t think like that.” Owyns had though to himself. But why? It was the truth; Owyns had no sort of hatred for either man and there wasn’t even build up. So, why just unexpectedly should he have to step into the ring with these two? In addition, to top it all, defend his nbW Heavyweight title. The fans had begun to cherish Jack Owyns, which made no sense either. Since nbW had just ruined him since he capture this gold. Fucking nbW! A Pack of retards could run this joint better. To many thoughts, all bundle up in the head of Jack Owyns. He wanted the answers, but he knew it would be like asking a dog to go and win him the lottery. It just would never happen, well just not for him. Owyns tried to shake all those thoughts out of his head, as he wasn’t like that anymore. They had to of done something right, to get this chance. Maybe he was just worried, nervous, something along those lines. He just didn’t want to have it all end so quick, he was gone to prove to nbW that he can be, and always will be the best damn nbW champion they had ever seen. Shit just doesn’t happen; you have to work to make it happen. He's trying, give him that.
nbW
Keystone Championship For the past several weeks, beginning during an installment of Infamy that featured a 10-man battle royal, the nbW stars The Lunatic and Rey Campbell have been a raging war over a piece of Campbell’s ring gear, named “Paddy” on the part of Lunatic. However, given the mental state the loony one is in, no one can really be sure what exactly his motives have been this entire time. Nevertheless, Rey Campbell has grown seriously tired of Lunatic’s antics. Thus, in their final battle Campbell went to Alex Styles giving him the idea to possibly have Lunatic’s mental state be completely reevaluated should he lose. The loser of this match, whether it be Rey or whether it be Lunatic, shall be sent to an insane asylum indefinitely. While the winner will not only get bragging rights and ultimately complete ownership of the elbow pad, but he will also be the holder of the Keystone Championship. So much is on the line in this one match. It doesn’t even need to be exaggerated, stressed, or drawn out. This will be nbW’s first ever Straightjacket Match. A straightjacket shall be suspended above the ring. The first man to make his opponent completely entrapped by the jacket shall be deemed the winner. Immediately, local Philadelphia asylum staff shall escort the loser from the building. With all of that, the crowd sat with patience as they awaited the upcoming high profile bout which was scheduled in their programs and was highly publicized. Their excitement grew as finally, there was a drop of hope released into their atmosphere. Finally, “Role Model” by Eminem began to play throughout the arena. Immediately, the fans erupted. They jumped out of their seats in hopes to get a better glance of this immensely fan-friendly superstar. Soon after, he pushed through the curtains from the backstage. He had a smile from ear to ear as he held up a poster board which read, “Free Mr. Paddy.” Briefly, he put the sign down so he could he wave at his adoring public. He raised the sign above his head once more as he made his way down the aisle. He was heading to the ring. Unlike his earlier bout tonight, there was an actual point to him in his mind. He was going down to the ring. As soon as he came to the ringside area, he stopped. He looked up at the straightjacket that was suspended above the ring. For no apparent reason at all, he busted out in completely uncontrollable laughter. He dropped his sign as he put his hands on his abs and bent over slightly. He fell on the floor. He just could not control himself. Then again, when can the loony one control himself? This wouldn’t be his first straightjacket match. He’s been in plenty of them in his career throughout the independent circle. His last was at SHOWrestling’s final pay-per-view, Escape. Like most all of his matches, he’s lost every single one of these types of matches that he has been involved with. “Role Model” stopped and in its place was “Hey Ma” by Cam’Ron. Rey Campbell pushed through the curtains much like Lunatic had earlier. Unlike Loony, Campbell rushed towards the ring. He had had enough of Lunatic’s shenanigans. He was running towards the ring furiously. Campbell took advantage of his opponent already on his back on the concrete. Campbell stomped on Lunatic’s face. The Lunatic hadn’t even seen it coming. His eyes were still closed from the laughter. “What the fuck, dude?!” Lunatic screamed as he opened his eyes furiously. He practically jumped off of his back and stared Rey in the eyes. “Can’t you see that I’m laughing here, bitch?!” Loony’s high-pitched voice could be heard throughout the entire arena, especially when he was screaming right in the face of Campbell. Filled with anger and fire, Lunatic pushed Rey Campbell with all of his might. Campbell fell onto his back as the shove caught him off guard. However, Lunatic quickly turned to a fan, who wore Lunatic’s official nbW T-shirt, “Paddy Saver,” in the front row. Quickly, Lunatic grabbed a hand of popcorn from this fan. He took a few bites before he turned around. Little did he know, Campbell had already stood up. Campbell was about to explode, ferociously. Lunatic extended his hand of munchy goodness to Campbell. “You want some?” Lunatic asked calmly as if nothing beyond that point happened. Out of nowhere… DYNASTY KICK! Lunatic crashed onto the concrete floor. He didn’t even know what had hit him. All that he knew was that all he could see what utter blackness and that he had lost his handful of the salty, butter (and fat) filled popcorn. He was out, cold. However, this match was not about pinfalls, submissions, countouts, or even disqualifications. This match was solely about putting your opponent in a straightjacket and sending him to the proverbial nuthouse. That was exactly what Rey had intended to do. He picked Lunatic up and rolled him under the bottom rope. Rey slid under the same rope as well. Finally, the bell officially rang. This match was then officially started. The “white shirts” as they used to be often referred as made their way from the backstage area. The stopped at ringside forming a human barrier between the ringside area and the entry aisle. Quickly, Rey stood up to his feet and turned to the right. He was indeed heading for the straightjacket. Meanwhile, Lunatic was starting to come to. Rey didn’t notice, nor did he care. He wanted this worthless battle to be over with as soon as possible to ensure himself that the loon would no longer bother him again, potentially ever again. Campbell ascended the corner. As he reached up to grab the jacket, Lunatic popped up out of nowhere and drove his forearm into the small of the back of Rey Campbell. Campbell fell forward as a result of the sudden attack. Lunatic climbed up to the second rope. He wrapped his arms around Campbell’s waist. It looked as if he were going for a super backdrop suplex. Indeed, that was his intentions. He lifted Campbell off of the corner. However, Campbell over powered the weaker of the two combatants. Campbell pushed off of the top turnbuckle and turned 180 degrees. He drove Lunatic’s face into the canvas with a beautiful looking super bulldog. Once again, Lunatic was surely out of the picture. Lunatic was completely unconscious once again. Campbell knew that he had to take advantage of the situation. He took a brief moment to catch his breath. His last maneuver, though it was very effective, it cost him a great deal of energy. As he paused, this bought Lunatic some extra time to recuperate as well. However, Rey didn’t go after the jacket this time. He turned his attention completely on his fallen opponent. The more damage the better, right? Campbell bent down to pick up Lunatic. He grabbed him by his wrist and pulled his carcass off of the ring. However, Lunatic had all the time he needed to recover. Lunatic stood there and didn’t move, nor did Campbell for that matter. Lunatic smiled widely for no apparent reason. The pimpin’ prince was just fed up with it all. He took a swing at The Loon. Lunatic fell to the canvas. Although, he stood right back up onto his feet. Campbell grabbed Lunatic’s arms and Irish whipped him into the ropes. Whatever Campbell was planning, it fell through as the whip had been reversed. Lunatic sent Campbell into the ropes. Campbell bounced back. Lunatic gave him a beautiful standing dropkick. Campbell went down hard, not very hard, but hard nonetheless. Lunatic put his body on top of Campbell’s and hooked his leg. One.. Two.. Three.. Lunatic beat his own right hand against the mat. He counted the unofficial pin quickly. He stood up and held his hands above his head as if he won the match. In his mind, he did win the match. But, whatever goes through Lunatic’s mind really doesn’t matter all that much, logically. As Lunatic was doing his victory dance, Campbell rolled to the outside. However, no attention was really put onto Campbell. Lunatic walked to the corner opposite of that which held the jacket. He held his hands to an enormous reaction from the fans. He inhaled and exhaled deeply as if he had just won the competition of a lifetime. He, more than anyone, should know that he hadn’t won this match yet. However, logic can be thrown completely out the window when it comes to this competitor. Lunatic jumped off of the second rope and turned around before he landed in the ring. Once he had, Campbell drove the top of a steal chair right into his mid-section. Lunatic bent over in pain. Campbell smacked the chair on the back of Lunatics head. Right away, Lunatic collapsed face first. Campbell wasn’t finished, however. He swung the chair downward. It collided with the back of Lunatic’s head once more. The Brooklyn native raised the chair above his head with his right hand. His left hand followed as well. He smiled and nodded at his actions. He was very pleased with himself. One final time, he drove the chair down onto Lunatic’s head. Since he felt as if the damage was enough, Campbell dropped the chair on the outside. The fans booed Campbell out of the building. He smirked at the masses and told them all where they could stick it. He was garnishing some major heat for the repeated, unnecessary chair shots. He looked at the straightjacket. He even walked towards it. He smirked and shook his head. He pushed his hand towards it as a way to say, “Fagettabotit.” He wasn’t going to end the match yet. Undoubtedly, he would be more than able to if he really wanted. However, he didn’t. He wanted to inflict even more punishment to the pointless thorn in his side that has cost him many matches and given him more stress than anyone in his position really needs. How would he do this? He’d do this by exiting the ring once again. He searched under the ring. Quickly he pulled out a table. This was the exact way he won the title and the first match he had with Lunatic. He used a table. Most likely, history was to repeat itself. Rey set the table up on the outside, grinning towards the fans. But just as he turned around to face the ring, his face came in full contact with Lunatic’s chest, having just launched himself over the ropes with a suicide plancha. Rey’s body found itself being driven into the table. But it did not break; the impact was sound, just not tough enough. Lunatic stared at Rey in disbelief, as he rolled him around on top of the table, as if making cookies on a cookie sheet. Lunatic gave a war cry and hopped back up onto the ring apron. He took one moment to yell to his fans. “For PADDY!” And he leaped off of the second rope, executing a sloppy moonsault, still hitting its mark, driving both himself and Campbell’s body crashing through the table. Lunatic was up to his feet shortly after, and parading around the wreckage. Shouting to the fans how he had won. It wasn’t a table match though… Lunatic stood there, realizing that he hadn’t won yet. His eyes turning back towards the ring, looking at the straight jacket high above. His mind was clear; he knew what he had to do. As Rey slowly begin to stir, Lunatic had slid a chair into the ring, and then he proceeded to set another table up just below the jacket. Nobody said he was smart. But Lunatic tried anyway. Rolling back into the ring, he jumped off of the chair reaching his arms out for the straight jacket, barely even getting it. Meanwhile Rey was rising to his feet, and looking in astonishment at Lunatic, as the man attempted to get the jacket down. Noticing the opportunity, Campbell rushed into the ring and drove a diving lariat into the back of Lunatic’s spine. With his hands around the waist, Rey pulled Lunatic back causing the man to crash down into the matt with the back of his head. Looking down at the loony one, Rey slid his elbow pad off, commonly known as Paddy, and tossed it down into the center of the ring. He dropped his elbow down into Lunatic’s body once, twice, and then a third time. Rey looked back at the straight jacket, and decided against it. He wasn’t done with Lunatic yet. Campbell pulled Lunatic up to his knees, and set his head between his legs. Hoisting him up, Rey drove Lunatic back down to the mat with a power bomb… No Wait… Loony-Factor! Out of nowhere, Lunatic was able to pull off his finishing maneuver. The two men lay motionless in the center of the ring. If there was a ref controlling the match, it would be long over. Neither man stirred for well over half a minute. “Paddy!” Lunatic’s eyes were open and starring at the elbow pad lying in the center of the ring. He grabbed it and stuffed it into his pants. “Paddy Come Home!” Pulling himself back up, Lunatic crawled over to the corner, his eyes high. The Straight jacket was just a few feet from his grasps; all he had to do was climb up there and grab it. And that he did. Lunatic climbed up the corner and reached his hands around the chain holding the straight jacket suspended. As if a sudden burst of wind had knocked him off of his perch, Lunatic found himself swinging back and forth on the chain, unsure as to what to do next. He didn’t have to think about it. Rey climbed up the turnbuckle and faced Lunatic, staring in disbelief at the man swinging back and forth like a school girl. Rey hooked Lunatics legs around his neck and released Lunatic downward into yet another Power bomb, this time executed with out a hitch. Lunatic crashed through he table below, that he so thoughtfully set up earlier. Smiling to himself, Rey grabbed the jacket and released it from the clasps. Dropping down off of the turnbuckle, Rey held the jacket in his had signaling the end. He rolled under the ropes and walked over to the carnage of Lunatic. Sliding the jacket around his body, and making sure to fasten the straps, Rey looked at the ref, who signaled for the bell. Rey Campbell had won the match, and he remained the Keystone Champion. He smiled as the ‘white shirts’ hauled Lunatic out of the table scraps and pulled him back up the entrance aisle, headed straight for the Asylum. He had won, and Lunatic would no longer bother him. The referee brought him his title, and Rey rolled back into the ring and raised his arms in victory. He knelt down in the center of the ring to pick up his elbow pad, but it wasn’t there. Staring around the ring, Rey realized what had happened. Somehow. Someway. Lunatic had once again stolen the elbow pad from him. He slammed his fist down to the ring and rolled back out, walking up the entrance ramp. He indeed was the winner. But he had lost his elbow pad, again. Winner and still nbW Keystone Champion: Rey Campbell
Shadow of a Doubt Kain stared at Jay Hucks with a smirk. They obviously didn’t want Gaines to interview him again, siding with him like he did. Instead they threw the 19-year old rookie in his face. Hucks adjusted his glasses, but still looked very, very green behind his microphone. Kain knew he was there because the federation didn’t want sides, and this new guy only knew the facts… Kain was accused, and not proven. And he wouldn’t give an opinion because he’s too new. “Jason Kain…” But before more than one real word of question came to his mouth, Kain yanked the microphone away from Hucks and sneered. “What is this? The company couldn’t do better than to stick me with a rookie piece of crap like you?” Kain paused and looked around for a moment. He smiled and grabbed Simon Starks and pulled him on camera. “Congratulations, asshole. You’ve just gained TV time.” Starks looked nervously at Kain then at the camera. But Kain didn’t hand the mic to Starks, instead he started questioning the jobber himself. “Simon Starks… master of losing matches… why aren’t you on the Pay Per View?” Kain moved the mic in front of Starks and smiled. But before he could say anything, Kain yanked the mic away again and answered for him. “Because you’re a talentless low-life loser that has no chance at surviving in the ring against Lunatic let alone someone like me? Probably. Because the company finds no place for people that don’t bring in the ratings? Most likely.” He smirked at Starks, then shoved him away from him, knocking him off screen again, as he turned to Hucks who just stood silently behind him… now, just as nervous as Starks was. “You see, kid. You see why I deserve more than you? You see why I watch day in and day out waiting to see how this federation is going to treat me? The way the fans will treat me? How did an egotistical self-centered son of a bitch like Owyns suddenly gain the respect of the crowd? How did someone who’s done EVERYTHING for that same crowd suddenly gain its ire? Now that’s an extreme twist, no?” Kain bared his teeth to Hucks, then realized he never even got his name. “What’s your name, boy?” “Jay Hucks.” “Well, Mr. Hucks, I hope you understand this dilemma I’m in. I have to face a brooding psychopath like The Don… someone who blurs the line between his personal life and this company so much that the men who get in the ring with him are afraid for their very lives if by the off chance they beat him.” Kain glared at Hucks then turned to the camera. “I’ll admit it, Don. I’m afraid. I’m afraid of the fact that I’m going to get into that ring with a man that wants revenge on someone who has to be proven as harming your ‘family.’ I’m not sure what you meant by that kiss… but just remember, Don, that kiss is based on honor. And honor, to you, is everything, right? Be prepared to lose your honor when your kiss means nothing.” He threw the microphone at Hucks, then spit at him. Hucks tried to wipe the spit from his glasses, but Kain pulled him close. “Nothing.”
It was once again, all too familiar for The Don. Concrete floors featuring gaping cracks so wide it felt like they might just swallow you up. The surface was damp and bumpy like Jommy Hoffa's resting place at the Meadowlands. The walls were an unforgiving, windowless brick structure good enough to crack someone skull against. Unsanitary water was dripping from the pipes that jutted out from the roof. The Don couldn't help but think it was, "more like a prison cell than a locka' room..." None the less, the man had a job to do tonight no matter how reluctant he was. This was a huge match for the company and if he and Kain could impress, they might manage to fatten their pockets by attracting new fans to the promotion. Even with the prospect of counting more money at day's end, The Don's true desire was to be back in New York making sure his brother Frank made the plane to Milan before any overzealous prick of a police officer caught him and popped him. The Don wasn't stupid though. His presence... the precense of a known organized crime boss would probably only attract more attention to Frank's escape. Just thinking about being painted with that brush pissed The Don off though. "Organized crime boss..." he muttered to himself as he threw his bag into a rusty, bent locker on at the bakc of the room... He was merely a business man who had been victimized by people who inisted upon intruding in his personal affairs. Ninety percent of them were less valuable than the pieces of shit that most humans shat out anyway, but the authorities still insisted on bringing him to justice. Luckily the power of the dollar is fairly convincing or he'd be wrestling consecutive life sentences rather than Jason Kain, tonight at Domination. The Don rubbed his lower back thinking about Kain's lack of in ring skill. The man had an annoying tendency to oversell moves like Joey Styles used to do during his commentary. He also hadn't perfected his offensive skills and this had been resulting in a number of overly hard bumps for The Don. He hoped Kain could get his act together before the big match. Last thing he needed through all of this was a broken back. Kain's imperfections aside, The Don couldn't get his family off of his mind. He didn't really want to call Luigi especially after their last coversation. "Da' yellin' was'a totally justified..." he mused... The whole debacle with that plumber Luigi hired really put him in Tony's doghouse. This fool painted every single pipe in the estate yellow or green. That wouldn't have been so bad except the moron didn't even fix the actual plumbing problem. Oh well, Tony knew he had to talk to him. In the end, despite his oddities he was a reliable right hand man. The Don made a move toward his bag looking to pick up the phone but before he had a chance to turn it on, a knock was heard at the door... "SHOWTIME TONY! You and Kain are up next!" The voice on the otherside was nbW's technical directer Kevin Kaisner... The call would have to wait. Tony mumbled a few obsenities in Italien and reluctantly made his way toward the door.
The crowd was waiting for it. To hear Jason Kain quit. To see that he truly WAS the man who, a short while ago, sabotaged a ladder and ended a promising star’s career. Tonight, justice would be served. Swift. Painful. And as “Faint” exploded over the PA system, the crowd roared its response of hatred. The lights turned out with only the four purple spotlights on the aisle. But no one walked out. The crowd continued booing, but now not only for what he did, but for what he was doing. He was making them wait. He had never done that before. He usually just walked right out there and shoved his way into that ring. He was usually the most focused person ever. This showed a lack of focus. This showed he was becoming flashy. Flashy? Jason Kain was not flashy. And then the purple jets shot out from the entry way over the crowd. Kain started down the aisle towards the ring. Stopping halfway down, he looked at the fans. The only sign he could see was one that said “Jason Evans = The Devil?” and it stung. It wasn’t a Jason Kain sign. It was one from a true fan. Someone who know something other than his stage name. Someone who had seen through the fourth wall, and toppled it. That one fan… made it all real. He slowed his pace to the ring, actually stopping in front of the ring steps and turning back up the ramp as suddenly Mozart’s “Don Giovanni Ouvertyr” faded it’s way through the boos and jeers. Kain looked up as the lights lining the aisle turned red, white, and green, and the man in the trench and fedora slowly stepped from behind the curtain. He had a look on his face basically saying “Where are you going?” Kain stopped in his tracks and stepped backwards toward the ring as The Don took off his coat. He waved Kain into the ring, while pulling the coat over his left arm, and stepping onto the bottom ring step. Kain slunk into his corner just shaking his head. It wasn’t fear that was in his eyes, but more the fact that he just didn’t want to fight this match. He smirked at The Don as he slowly, ritualistically, removed his fedora as the house lights went up. The arena was fully lit and The Don stared at Kain with no emotion on his face whatsoever. The match was almost under way and both men walked up chest to chest. Kain started off with a few words, but The Don showed no emotion still, watching Kain run at the mouth. Finally Kain made the first attack, angry with the lack of answer from Patzianni, swinging a fist in The Don’s direction. He ducked the punch and set a punch into Kain’s ribs, then waited for another wild swing, crouching under and driving a shoulder into his back. Kain went to the mat, but rolled through and popped up, glaring hard at The Don. The Don dusted his hands off on his vest and then waited for another reversal, but Kain decided that this was enough. It was “I Quit” not a regular sanctioned match, so he couldn’t be disqualified. And that was what he was counting on. Kain slid out of the ring and rushed over to the time keepers chair. Pulling him out of the chair, he threw the small table aside and grabbed the bell itself. Tossing it at The Don, Kain smirked as The Don caught it. It was just what he was planning for. Kain grabbed a chair and banged it against the ropes, making The Don step back. Kain slid under the ropes and stared The Don down… both had weapons, and both looked poised to attack. Kain tossed the chair in The Don’s direction, but The Don ducked, trying to keep a hold on the ring bell… but Kain was prepared for it, charging at Tony Patzianni right after the chair flew over head, crashing him to the mat with a jump-over twisting neck breaker. The Don didn’t know what happened, but as Kain rolled through, pulling the chair back up with him, The Don knew he wasn’t going to win that easily. He looked up but Kain swung to early, allowing the Don to dive under the swung and come up behind Kain with another shoulder tackle. With Kain on his stomach, Patzianni landed a few shots the ribs again. Kain curled up as The Don pulled him to his feet. Hunched over, Kain was pulled under The Don’s arm, and lifted into a devastating ribcrusher. Kain hit the mat again, curling around his ribs in pain. The Don usually wasn’t this focused in the ring, and Kain knew he was in trouble. The crowd popped as Patzianni pulled Kain back to his feet for a second ribcrusher. But this time The Don atted in a few stomps keeping Kain on the mat before taking off for the ropes, rebounding, and rushing in with a running elbow drop to the ribs as well. Kain bounced off the mat and rolled over in pain, but he knew he had to get to his feet quickly or he’ll have to quit damn soon. He started to push his way up, but The Don was already on his feet and starting to look a bit manic, waiting for Kain to get up this time. Kain got to a knee, and The Don pulled him the rest of the way, setting a shot to the jaw, then pushing him into the turnbuckle. Slamming an elbow to Kain’s face, and then a shoulder to his ribs, Patzianni backed off for a moment… There must have been something broken in Kain’s midsection as blood trickled out of his mouth. He stumbled forward using the ropes to keep himself standing, but The Don was livid at how this man could do something like this. Patzianni charged into him with a spear, further irritating the painfully injured ribs. Setting in with a ridiculous amount of fists to the face, Kain was completely pulled from his element and into the real. The Don had turned the ring into an MMA match-up, beating on Kain as he tried with minimal response to defend himself against the constant rib and kidney shots. Coughing up bright red blood, The Don pulled himself away yelling at him. “Why ya gotta do what’cha did? Why ya’ go and’a hurt mi famiglia? Huh? Why?” He started pacing around the ring. Not to taunt Kain, but almost as if thinking about why he was doing this himself. Almost as if he didn’t like what he was doing. Then he turned to Kain, as he was pushing himself to his feet again. The Don’s eyes went wide. Somehow Jason Kain was not giving up, even though he should have with the injuries he’d gone through. The Don headed in his direction… a bit too fast, though as Kain slipped back down with a drop toe hold. The Don hung himself in the top rope as Kain went out of his normal moveset, hopping to the middle rope and crashing down on Patzianni’s back with a leg drop. The Don held his back as he started to pull himself out from the ropes, but was met with a chair shot to the back again… this time putting him to the mat. Kain stood over him with the chair, swinging down, crashing into The Don’s rib cage. He smirked through his bloody lips and teeth and laughed wildly. He swung again. Another crash. Kain’s went wide and spit shot out rabidly as he swung back upward, crashing down on Patzianni’s ribs again. The Don screamed out in pain as Kain overswung on his fifth shot, and went off balance, toppling into the ropes and losing the chair. But it didn’t stop his attack, instead he drove down a shot to the ribs with his boot. Then another. He stopped and crouched next to The Don’s head screaming… “HOW DO YOU LIKE IT!? HUH!? YOU LIKE GETTING THE SHIT KICKED OUT OF YOU!? YOU WANTED THIS!? YOU WANTED YOUR CAREER TO END TOO!?” That made The Don suddenly shove himself to his feet. He looked at Kain with the most horrified look, as if Kain was admitting it… but Kain wasn’t at the same time. Somehow Kain was more in defense of himself instead of offense. Kain glared at him, breathing heavily. “What do you want from me!? Do you want me to say I sabotaged that ladder? Huh, Tony? You want me to tell you that I did it to better my career? YOU REALLY FUCKING THINK I WOULD GO OUT OF MY WAY TO RUIN MY LIFE JUST TO BETTER MY CAREER!?!? FUCK YOU TONY!!! FUCK YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY!!!” With that Kain was taken down with a clothesline. The Don kicked him out of the ring then grabbed the microphone. “I don’ wanna hear nothin’ boy! I wanna hear two words from-a you!” The Don thrust the microphone in Kain’s face, but Kain spat blood at it. “You’re getting NOTHING!” Kain rolled away from The Don and pushed himself to his feet, grabbing the severely dented chair. Patzianni stayed back, though… and Kain then flipped him off. The Don shook his head and started slowly towards Kain, angry that the “faccia di merde” was just sitting there, asking to be destroyed. Kain kept waving The Don on, but Patzianni wasn’t budging. Instead he was backing up against the guardrail. Kain charged him but The Don rolled over the rain and shoved a security guard in the way, letting him get clubbed by the chair instead of Kain. Kain lost grip on one end, and that was just what The Don was waiting for. He threw a punch at Kain, then pulled him over the guardrail to the floor in the crowd. The roar was unbelievable as The Don grabbed a fan’s chair and smashed it into Kain’s left arm, forcing him to pull it away. The Don set the chair up, then lifted Kain onto his shoulder, driving him chest first into the edge of the back of the chair. Kain tumbled off, coughing and sputtering. Stumbling further into the crowd, Kain tried to get his footing… but instead was caught with a splash of beer in the face from a fan… And then the chants started. It wasn’t for Jason Kain. It wasn’t for The Don. EVANS SUCKS! Kain looked up in horror as the fans completed their turn against him. Not just him being Jason Kain… but him in general. It was shocking to hear. The fans somehow KNEW… they KNEW him, now. He slowly turned towards The Don, who kicked him in the gut. Kain was still in a state of shock as his head hit the ground with one of Patzianni’s patented jumping piledriver he liked to call “The Hit.” Kain slumped to the ground… but with him out cold, The Don couldn’t get the words out of his mouth… instead he pulled him to his feet, and lifted him onto his shoulders. Sliding him over his shoulder, he kicked a chair to the ground. Kain was going down. NOW. With a full swing and a jump, The Don slammed Kain head first with another jumping piledriver, crushing Kain’s skull against the chair under him. The crowd roared out loud. HOLY SHIT! But The Don didn’t smile. Instead he frowned. He was NOT happy with the fact that Kain was out cold… he needed him to feel the pain of his decision. He crouched down and lightly smacked Kain’s face. Groggy, Kain slowly came to. He was in no position to talk, let alone stand up and defend himself… so The Don continued his pacing holding the microphone. “Busone! Why do you lie? Why do you let-a me punish you!? Porco mondo, senore! Why?” The Don stared at Kain and sneered… but Kain just continued coughing up the blood he had been earlier. “You do nothing-a to impress me, Jason. This is foolish! Fare il fesso? Ya’ instead just sit there taking-a what I give you? Indeed, Jason, you are a fool. Or are you just a weakling?” Throwing a kick at Kain, and getting no response, The Don flipped out. He was angry enough as it was, but Kain was proving that he truly didn’t care at the moment. And that was disrespect. No one… NO ONE disrespects The Don. “MINCHIONE!!!” Throwing the microphone to the ground he grabbed the chair that Kain’s head had earlier dented… he pulled it overhead and watched as Kain slowly pushed himself to a knee. Still coughing and sputtering Kain stood up, the crowd booed wildly, but Kain instead picked the microphone up. Which made the crowd cheer, expecting a quit. “I may be a fool, Patzianni. I may be. But I won’t admit to such an act as putting my career before the life of someone else. Sure… I may have had my reasons. But so did MANY others. Hell… I don’t even know if I can trust YOU weren’t behind it!” Kain coughed up more blood as the crowd booed wildly. The Don’s eyes flashed wild. “How else would you have been signed here? With your background you would have NEVER gotten a chance in nbW. 3WA would NEVER allow someone with your background into this fed. But because you stated it as a favor to family… you get a shot against me? Hell, I’ve even heard you’re on an open contract… able to be terminated at any moment! What happens if you lose to me!? You get fired? It’s a lose-lose situation for you. You beat me? You destroy your honor. You lose, and you MIGHT get fired, and the fans will think you’re a wuss. Fuck off, Patzianni. I’m not going to bow out now. Not when I have so much to lose.” The Don slowly lowered the chair. He stared at Kain for a moment, but then Kain smiled. The Don flinched… and he knew that Kain was fucking with him. But it was too late. Kain charged at him with a kick to the gut, then swung him over his shoulder with a quick snap mare, and held the head with a sleeper hold. The crowd booed wildly as Kain held Patzianni’s head, watching in horror as their unlikely hero slowly faded. The crowd knew that with The Don out, he couldn’t lose… but he couldn’t win either. Kain didn’t care. He didn’t want to win. He wanted to get out of there. It’d be the first time an I Quit match ended in a no contest… but he would escape with his life for one more night. He let go as The Don passed out. Eyes wide and maniacal, Jason Kain stood up and stumbled backward. He was really in no position to fight… but if he planned on getting out of the arena, he had to move NOW. He started through the crowd, and headed for the back lot… The crowd KNEW he was trying to escape instead of win and the chant began… KAIN’S A PUSSY!!! *clap*
*clap* *clap clap clap* He headed towards his car but the goons were there again… and he had no weapons. Two-Tone and Flips stared at him, smirking. He knew they wouldn’t attack him unless he attacked first… but he truly stood no chance if he attacked them and didn’t get them out before The Don came back. They started walking toward him as he put his hands up in defense of himself. Backing slowly away, Kain started saying things he had never though he would. “Look… I’ll give you good money if you just let me go right now.” Kain pleaded, it wasn’t in his nature… but he didn’t care anymore. This night had turned from pay-per-view event to horror movie in the last twenty minutes. “How’s twenty-thousand sound? Th… Thiry-thousand!?” They frowned. Kain knew they didn’t want his money. They also found it odd that he’d be offering up money when he used to NEVER back down from a fight. But then they saw it. He wasn’t really going to give them money… he was just keeping them at enough distance for him to get back to a rolling cart… but it was two late. Shoving forward, both men were slammed into a nearby truck as the equipment cart came crashing forward. Only winded, they looked up as Kain rushed towards his black and purple Hotmatch Cuevito… He had the key in his tights, sure that he may have to make a quick get away… But the motorcycle never started. Tony Patzianni pulled Kain off and set a huge amount of Tommy Gun punches into his face, chest and stomach. Flips handed The Don a pipe… but Kain ducked the swing, catching The Don with a huge German suplex to the concrete… he started to roll through, pulling Patzianni up with him as Chuck Radford got between the two goons and Kain. Kain swung The Don to the floor again with a second German suplex, but released after the attack… standing up. He looked at The Don who held his neck and shoulder, but pulled him to his feet. Kain was planning all of this all along. If he couldn’t escape, he’d put Patzianni in a position that would force each of his suplexes to hurt two-fold. Being dropped onto concrete and tarmac would have The Don quitting for sure. Kain slung The Don overhead with a swift snap suplex, then turned to pull him up again. The Don swung weakly at Kain, but he was tired of wasting time and getting beaten… Kain pulled The Don into position and slung him overhead with a Northern Lights suplex that sent him crashing into the equipment cart that he had used against the two goons earlier. Patzianni laid in heavy pain, every twitch he made hurt. He winced as he turned over… Kain was more focused than he had expected. He had planned on everything. Somehow, Kain was getting the upperhand, and The Don started to realize why a man so small was so feared and respected, even after he was accused of injuring The Maximizer. Kain wasn’t a man to sit on his ass and wait for the truth to be brought out… he’d make the truth if he had to. Instead of proving his innocence, he’s just forget he was accused and plan his revenge. The same thing The Don was doing. Because two hours before he came to this ring, Kain’s lawyer, Luke Pettigrew, had brought him something. A video tape. He didn’t give it to Kain, because he knew he’d just toss it aside. Instead… he brought it to someone he thought would care. And Patzianni did care. He just wanted to see how far Kain would go. How far he’d go to keep himself from incriminating the guilty while still surviving. He was a survivor. But this time, he couldn’t be allowed to let it pass by. The Don pushed himself to his feet. He looked over at Two-Tone and Flips, who backed away from the fight… this was his own fight, and he was going to end it. Now. An engine started as Two-Tone lifted a dumpster up into the air, setting it up for The Don. Kain smirked… “Needed help, Patzianni?” Kain smiled. “No. Just-a,” He paused, with a smile that showed he was now bleeding internally as well, “planning ahead.” Kain sneered. He had caught on. This was the point where time should have stopped… but it didn’t. Kain didn’t think. He swung. And in just a few seconds it would be all over… he had missed, and The Don now had him on his shoulders… and now he was hanging over one of them, face first towards the ground. Then it all went black. WHACKED~! Patzianni walked over to the garbage truck and slowly moved the dumpster over the body of Kain and slowly lowered it. Even if Kain woke up now, there’d be no way for him to move. And Kain could do nothing about it. The match would be over. If he didn’t quit, he’d just starve to death instead. But The Don wasn’t looking for that as he hopped out of the truck cab. The Don stood next to Kain as the dumpster pinned him to the floor. There was no way out of this, and Kain would HAVE to give up. The Don grabbed the microphone off the floor of the loading room and walked back over to Kain. He crouched over Kain and pulled the microphone over Kain’s mouth. He knew he wouldn’t get Kain to say anything. But it didn’t matter anymore. Kain didn’t need to speak. Not anymore. The Don stood up and looked at Kain. It took a lot. A sledgehammer. Two “Hits” and a “Whack” and he didn’t say anything. But The Don expected it. Mainly because Kain shouldn’t have to admit to something he didn’t do. And The Don smiled. “Busone… Listen-a to me. You’ve been a pain in-a my side for-a too long. You think me a minchione? No. Don’t look at me, busone. Let-a me relish in your pain. Let-a me hear your cries, and let-a me hear your pleas. Then-a let me apologize.” He raised his hand as Two-Tone suddenly appeared behind him, holding his fedora and coat. As the coat was placed around his shoulders, he slowly put the fedora on his head and put his hand into the right pocket of the coat. A frown appeared on his face and dropped a rose in Kain’s direction while pulling the microphone to his lips. He slowly turned to the referee who looked at him oddly. “I-a quit.” Tossing the microphone onto the half-conscious Jason Kain, Tony Patzianni walked down the hall and back towards the locker rooms as “Faint” by Linkin Park blasted through the PA. Quickly EMT’s came over as Kain’s consciousness finally left him. Kain was out cold and yet somehow he came out the victor? What is wrong with this world? Winner: Kain via Submission?
The Visitor, Pt. 4 The door flung open and in walked Andrew Martin as if he owned the place. He strolled over to the locker near where Spike laid. “Spike”, he said noticing that Spike wasn’t moving. “Yo Spike!”, still he didn’t move. Taking the initiative with a grin on his face, Martin raised his hand let it fall in a massive slap across Spike’s face. That woke the beast up. “Spike!” he said while his friend looked at him with eyes resembling a predator, and him the prey. “Martin, I’ve told you before; and I’ll tell you again, and this time I mean it… Hit me again, and you’re in for a world of hurt. Now what do you want?” Andrew stood still for a few moments letting what he just heard soak in, and then plopped the side of his head as if to hurry the process. “Sorry, Old age… I came in here to see if you’re ready for your match. And… to drop this off, someone at the front told me to give it to you. Black suit, white shirt, black tie… ya’ know.” Martin handed Spike a small manila envelope, and stepped back a few steps in case it was booby trapped. “Can never be too careful, Spike.” He grinned, as his hands ripped open the package; but his grin faded as he was stunned that nothing was inside. Confused, the big man placed the envelope closer to his eye for a good look, and nearly dropped the only contents of the envelope. Andrew bent down and picked up what slipped out, and handed it to Spike. “I’m not sure what this is.” “I am,” said Spike as he looked at the object closely. “We never should have come back to Bethlehem. Warn the boys in the back that it is of utmost importance that they leave as soon as the show is over.” “Erm, huh? Why would they need to do that?” “See this?” asked Spike as he held the object close for Martin to see. “It’s a marker. This circle is used to beacon a persons location to the satellite’s hovering in outer space above our very location. Once they have it, they can track you wherever you go, and then attack.” Spike made a gesture with his hands across his throat. “Oh MY GOD! I’m leaving… NOW!” Martin turned tail and fled out of the room, while Spike looked on. His serious look faded as he looked at the object some more. “As fun as that was, I should have been straight with the man…” His fingers slid around the shape, as if seeking something in particular. “Click” Four resounding clicks imitated from the object, as Spike sighed a sigh of relief. He carefully held the object back up to his face, this time whispering a few words. “Beep” As similar as a combination lock, the object sprung itself open; but it was empty. Spike wasn’t surprised, as he dug into his duffle bag. A brief Velcro sound was heard, and then his hand emerged, closed tightly. “All of this trouble. Just for this… Risking life for this… this… argh!” He dumped the contents in his hand into the Circle lock, carefully placing them so that they wouldn’t cause a sound. Snapping the lock back together, Spike slid the switches in place once more, and placed the object in his jean pocket. “I’ll have to thank Falcon for sending me this locket. At least it’s tamper proof.” He patted his pocket where the object sat, and stood up, walking on out of the room.
Owyns was spotted backstage, as he was fully suited up for his match tonight. He had the nbW Heavyweight title sling over his shoulder and a can of sprite in his one hand, which he kept sipping working away at. He didn’t really look too determined, as his anxiety was catch up with him. His whole life, he spent more time thinking, then accomplishing the goals he had laid out. Which some people say, thinking too much, could be the downfall. He kept a steady pace, as he
walked down the corridor. His original plan was to cut a promo in the ring tonight, but then decided against it. As he really couldn’t think of anything to say, as he had much more to deal with, then make a pointless scene in front of the crowd. Maybe, he should though. As right now, he was just walking around, because he couldn’t keep still in his lockeroom. And because it was his job, and he was paid to do shit like that. However, why play this hero, when you know what you have done, isn’t what a hero would do. However, something more along the lines that a villain would think up and do. Soon enough, it will all come out. He would be exposed. So In the meantime, might as well just play, with what you got. Owyns re-entered his lockeroom, and closed the door shut behind him.
nbW
Dynasty Championship So this is the finals. Callie Urban set to take on Rejection, and the winner would be first and new Dynasty Champion. Broken. By Sentenced Played on the PA system, as out from behind the curtain walked Rejection. He made it quick and short, and headed right towards the ring. He slipped under the bottom rope, and stood up on his feet in the ring. He rubbed his left wrist, as he turned towards the entrance as his music had died out. More Bounce. By Soul Kid No. 1 Callie Urban stepped out to her music, and made her way towards the ring. Both her and rejection, had a little to no energy left, after all they have been threw tonight. Both fighting for the main prize of the night, well in there eye‘s, and that was the dynasty championship. Either of the two didn’t want to walk away with out it they already had been threw so much, so why would either of them just want to let that go to waste. Urban stepped into the ring, as she kept her distance from rejection. Trying to get back any energy, she could, before the bell would ring. Her music had faded out, as the referee looked over both of them, before turning and waving for the bell to be ring. It was on. They had both locked into a stare, as they inched closer to each other. Callie kept looking down at rejection fist, when he had not attempted to take the first strike, Callie swung up with a jab. She connected, and swung with another Jab, which connect in the same spot, as the last one landed. It did not really seem to affect Rejection to much, as she kicked him in the knee. Callie turned and ran into the far ropes, which swung her back, and she jumped with much speed behind it, and nailed Rejection almost in the throat with an elbow, that forced Rejection to stumble backwards. She kicked him in the gut, which made rejection bend his body, as Callie wrapped her arm around Rejection head, but rejection picked her up in the move, except Callie slammed a few knees into his stomach, letting her be able to pull off the DDT. Rejection put his hand on his forehead, as he lay on the canvas floor. Callie sat down on rejection back, as she applied a sleeper hold to rejection. Rejection sat there and took it for a few moments. When finally he started to push himself up off the mats, and got back up onto his feet, as Callie still had the sleeper hold locked in. He ran backwards towards the ring corner, as he slammed her into the corner. The wind went right out of her, as she let go of the hold. She fell to her ass, as Rejection walked away rubbing his throat. He turned around and walked over and grabbed Callie Urban by her hair, and pulled her up on to her two feet. He threw her arm over his shoulder, and tucked her head under his arm, as he grabbed her pants and picked her up in a hanging suplex. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. After about ten seconds, he fell backwards slamming Callie Urban to the mats. She clenched her back in pain, as Rejection, rolled his body on top of Callie Urban. 1... … 2... …NO! Callie Urban raised her right shoulder, which had caught the referee attention, and forced him to stop the count. Rejection got back up to his feet, as he pulled Callie along the way back to her feet. He threw her towards the ropes, and upon her arrival back, Rejection nailed her with a clothesline. Callie fell to the mats, as Rejection pulled her back up, and this time nailed her with a pump handle slam. Getting tired, Rejection decided once again he should try to end the match, as this time he hooked her leg. 1... … 2... … However, Callie Urban had somehow managed to break the pin. Rejection looked a little surprised; but not really, this bitch had a lot of fight in her. Rejection grabbed her right arm, and pulled her back to her feet, as he was going to try an hit another pump handle slam, in hope that would be it. Except this time, Callie Urban reversed it somehow, and landed very awkward looking DDT. Callie Urban stayed down, and so did her opponent rejection. The crowd waited and watched. Both looked much drained, and they did not see this match lasting much longer. Callie rolled onto her stomach,
and then pushed her self onto her knees. She took a few moments,
just to catch her breath. Before she attempted to finally, stand
back up on her two feet. She walked over and got onto the top rope,
as she sat there, and waited for rejection to get up. Which did
take to long, as she stood on the top rope, waiting for Rejection
to turn around and look in her direction, which he end up doing. 1... … 2... … However, Rejection just pushed Callie off him. It did not take long for rejection to stand back up, as Callie got behind him as quickly as she could, charged and end up pulling off a bulldog slamming Rejection face first into the mats. She pushed rejection on his back, as she walked around and grabbed both his legs. She went for the Scorpion Death Lock, but she couldn’t manage to lock it in, as Rejection fought back. He swung and hit her right in the jaw, as Callie let go of both of Rejection legs and fell backwards. This gave rejection the chance to get back up onto his feet. He grabbed Callie and drove his knee hard into her gut, as he positioned her between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he picked her up going for a power bomb, but Callie was not going to let him pull it off, as she turned it into a face buster, driving rejection face first into the mats once again. She made her way over to the top rope, and pulled herself up onto the top rope. As Rejection slowly stood up, as Callie leaped off the top rope and hit the… SCREW CUTTER! She went for the cover, but also, and the referee never noticed she put both her feet on the ropes to apply pressure to the pin. 1... … 2... … 3... She let go of the ropes, before the referee could ever noticed. As Rejection looked a bit puzzled to why he couldn’t break the pin count. The referee turned and signaled for the bell, to clarify that Callie Urban had just won the match, and had just won the Dynasty Title. Rejection got to his knees and shook his head, trying to figure out what had just happened there. The referee presented Callie Urban the Dynasty title. As she sat, there in wow as she held onto her newly prize possession. She was a champion. A Dynasty Champ at that fact. Winner and NEW nbw Dynasty Champion: Callie Urban via Pinfall
“Well, well, well.” Jack Owyns rubbed his nails against his chest, buffing them. He stood at the doorway to the wrestler’s main locker room. One that he didn’t need to go into anymore. He had his own because he was Jack Owyns… nbW Heavyweight Champion. But the man he was looking at right now wasn’t his number one contender. No. He was the man that was brought to his knees, not moments ago. He was bloody. He was sore. He was half-conscious. He was being held up by two EMTs that deemed him just livable. But right now… he was ready for a fight again. Jason Kain glared at Owyns through his bloody eyes, but the slack jaw proved otherwise. Even though The Don quit the match himself, Kain didn’t win. He wasn’t the one standing at the end. Even though Kain gained a win on his record, he was a defeated man. The fans knew it. The wrestlers in the back knew it. There had to be some other reason why The Don did what he did. And it looked almost as if Owyns knew that reason, but Kain couldn’t ask. He couldn’t move. But he didn’t have to. Owyns pushed himself away from the wall and clicked the gum he was chewing, and stared at Kain intently. “Jason Evans. Mr. Jason Kain. Mr. I-didn’t-do-it. Mr. You-Have-No-Proof. Hmmm… according to my records you have no proof to say you didn’t do it either, Kain. No alibi. No nothing.” Owyns didn’t smile though. Instead he told the EMT’s to go away as he too Kain’s weight onto his own shoulder. “You know, Jason… I never liked you. I admit it, ok? I don’t like you. I never have, never will. You… you are the epitome of what I dislike about this career. Sure, you’re only 25, and you have years and years ahead of you... maybe. But instead of seeing where you can go in your life, and make yourself even better than you are right now… you sit back and let people step on you. You let people go over you. You let people get the best of you. And why?” He sat Kain down in his chair and smirked at him. The man was a bevy of bruises and cuts, but he was still sitting there. Listening to him. Owyns had to give him credit. “Because you were the company man? No. Because you were being kind to the newbs? Nah… you’re a newb yourself essentially. Because you respected your fellow worker? No. Then what is it? What on earth could make a man of your prescence, your… charisma… sit down and let everyone step on him?” He paused and watched Kain stretch out, trying to gain some feeling in his body again. He pulled a chair to sit right in front of Kain and had a look of deep though on his face. “After months and months of studying you, Kain… I’ve realized something. You are the most selfish man there is here. Yeah. It’s confusing… even to me at first. But I’ve see you lose time and time again… supposedly getting other people over. But in all reality you just make yourself out to look like the underdog, just to get the cheers from the crowd. But explain to me why that ladder came down. And why? Why was it that when I accused YOU of doing it… you didn’t contend it?” Kain looked up and started to say something but Owyns, but Owyns put a finger to his lips. “Boy, calm your horses. You need to rest. You need to think about this. Instead of going outright and saying you didn’t do it… you instead allowed yourself to turn into the biggest heel this federation has ever seen. You turned into one of the biggest assholes to the crowd. So now, you’re an underdog AND an asshole. You’re not what a heel should be, but those fans HATE you. And you got over. Somehow, indirectly, you went from being on the bad side of Alex Styles, to being his best friend.” Owyns twitched a bit at the sound of that. “I used to be hated by this company. And I skyrocketed when the world found out that their hero wasn’t who they thought he’d be. Why would you do that to me? Why would you let my accusation make me the best in the company? Why did you help me?” Kain slowly lowered his head. “I thought you hated me just as much as I did you. But instead, you disproved everything I thought of you, by helping ME be the one in the spotlight. Then I thought it over. Who better to beat than your biggest enemy? And how better to beat them, than at their own game?” Owyns smiled. “I’m beginning to think that the only thing you really wanted was for people to realize that you’d do ANYTHING to get yourself over. Even if it meant pushing in the wrong direction at first. Well, Kain, you’ve surprised me. And I’ll admit something. No matter how much of an asshole you really are… I’m beginning to think that I should take back my accusation.” Owyns stood up and started for the door. “I don’t think you sabotaged that ladder after all. You just used the situation to get yourself over. Good show, Kain. Good show.” He stepped out the door and closed it behind him.
He wasn’t sure what he would say, or what he would do. For all he knew she proboly hated him now. And why wouldn’t she; He admitted to being her admirer ever since her debut. But he stood their leaning against her locker-room door, waiting for her to show up. Assuming she still was. She had won her first title… He grinned softly, remembering his first title victory so long ago. And what it must mean to Callie. She would likely be astonished and amazed all at once. But he grinned still, knowing that his faith in Callie reigned true. She overcame the odds, and showed the non believers. “I am the champion…” The sound was unmistakable as it got louder. “And I’ll keep fighting till the end…” The song of We are The Champions, by Queen, being sung by Callie Urban. Her figure became apparent as she turned the corner and she was skipping towards Spike, belt around her waist. “No time for looser's. ‘Cause I am the champion.” Looser’s? Spike wasn’t sure if she saw him standing there, as she was just a few feet away now. Surely she couldn’t have meant him. He deserved it though if she did. He just hoped that she wasn’t too upset about it all. He didn’t have to wait long. “Spike!” Her voice was clear and soothing, as Spike watched as the woman bounded closer towards him. Closer still. Why wasn’t she stopping? Callie put the brakes on! Ehh too late. She leaped into Spike, her legs wrapping around his waist, while her arms hovered around his neck. This was not prepared for, as Spike realized that his location was not the best place for contact. “Crack!” The locker room door collapsed inwards, off of its hinges, causing the two to crash into the locker room. Lying on the door, Spike looked up into the eyes of the woman assailant. And she looked down at him, not even caring what it must look like to any passer-biers. “Champion Belt! See, I’m a Champion!” Callie pointed towards her new belt around her waist, with her other arm in the air for victory. He just nodded his head, and couldn’t help but snicker. “Callie the Dynasty Champion. Great work.” He said, smiling and nodding. “I did it! Just like I said I would. Just like we trained for. I even hit my finisher. Definitely shocked the fans, hehe. Now all you have to do is go out there and win the World Title. Then my title can have someone to play with while we do.” “While we do what?” He asked, looking at her funny. “Eh, nevermind. So how does it feel to be a champion for the first time?” “I am a Champion! Hehehehehehe…” she crackled, carrying on as Spike lifted her up off of him, and sat her down next to him. Looking into her eyes, his hand fumbled in his pocket. Callie’s crackling stopped, as she eyed his hand moving. “HEY! No Playing With yer’ self! You’re not champion yet, like me.” She stated, with her smile plastered ear to ear. Spike looked up at her and smile. She was something else, which was for sure. But he found himself falling in love with her. Something that he never thought would happen after that fateful night so many years ago. Her death wasn’t his fault; he just has to keep telling himself that. “Spiker? Are you staring at my chest?” He wasn’t answering her, his mind still playing back the unfortunate events. “Oooh so you are. Well my title makes them bounce, see!” She unstrapped her belt, and playfully slapped it under her breasts. “Heehehe”. His hands fumbled some more, this time pulling out a circular object. Earlier he had managed to talk to Allison Cadence about getting some material to make a chain for it. Now it was truly a locket. He pulled it up and out of his pocket, looking deep into Callie’s eye’s clutching it in his hand. “Um Spiker, is that… no offense man, but I hardly know yer!” That got him to laugh. Opened up his hand and showed the object to Callie; who became speechless. It had so many sparkling object, her eyes were stuck on them. “Not quite what I was thinking Callie. I’d like you to have this locket, it’s for good luck and it’d mean a lot to me if you wore it.” He handed the locket to her, and took the chain around her neck, carefully setting it. “See, now you have two jewelries on you’re body.” He said with a hint of a smile, before Callie took the locket and shoved it into her mouth. “Hey! It’s not for dinner! Please Callie; understand that means a lot to me.” It dropped out of her mouth slipping down in the middle of her chest. “Aww… I likes it, I likes it a lots. Now you go win that title, so we can have friend of Miss Dynasty here, hee hee.” He smacked his head, not able to help but laugh at the comment. His hand rubbed Callie’s hair playfully, as he stood up next to her. Putting out a hand, she then took grasp and yanked herself up to her feet as well. “Speaking of Dinner. Win or Loose, Dinner is on my tonight. Just before you got here I made reservations for your Champion Dinner. My treat of course.” “Yay Food! Now Spiker, good luck out there… hehe I said it right this time.” Spike nodded and walked over the broken door, turning his head back at Callie once more. “Dang.” He smiled, as she returned the smile, while tightening the belt back around her waist. She was happy, in more ways than one. And Spike knew, she would keep the locket safe…
Leonard Antioch stood in front of Jason Kain. Behind him stood The Don. Both stared at the man who had earlier been berated by Owyns, and watched as he held the security tapes that had been missing. The proof was right there. He knew who had done it. And the pain in his chest was spreading throughout his body. The Don stared at him with a choice. Kain could do one of two things. He could go out there and clear his name, ruining EVERYTHING he had gained from his turn… but save himself from the beating he’d get from The Don for breaking his own honor. Or he could continue down the path of destruction Owyns had accused him of in the first place… taking advantage of the “fact” that he ruined someone’s career to better he own. The Don gave up. Tony Patzianni showed that he was a man of honor by quitting the match after he had gotten out his anger. Even though Kain was forced to learn this lesson the hard way, The Don knew he hadn’t done it. He only punished kain for what he had already done… which was lie. If he continued down this route, The Don’s honor would have been at stake. The Don was ready to forgive him for his transgressions. Kain had a choice. Ruin his life. Or end it. Suddenly Antioch’s cell phone started ringing. He quickly answered as The Don and Kain looked at him. “Jason.” He looked at Kain with a face of pure anticipation and at the same time concern. “It’s Jade… she’s in labor.” The Don’s face changed from stern to concerned as well. He looked at the phone, then back at Kain. Kain started to cry as he looked at The Don. His daughter was about to be born and he was in the worst predicament of his life. The Don’s face softened, as he looked at Kain… then he walked over to the door and shoved it open. He looked back at Kain, and forced his face stern again. He spoke only one word again to Kain, as it was all he needed. “Family.” Then The Don turned his back to Kain, and let him out of the room. Nothing would be spoken tonight. But Kain would be back. And when he does…
nbW
Heavyweight Championship We’ve all had a dream, a fantastic dream. No matter were you were in this dream. You lived as king for that moment. The world in your own eyes, become all about you, nobody else. Dreams do not happen for many, but they did happen for Jack Owyns. Since that very moment when he had captured his newfound glory, he has felt, as if the dreams had come true. Except, he wasn’t ready to let it go, and for surely he wasn’t going to let somebody come in and end it all. Tonight, was going to be his night once again, and it would be his death, before anybody could take that away from him. Not Uncensored, …And Not Spike Saunders. They may have wanted this, but Owyns wasn’t going to let it happen. It was his title, not there’s. They didn’t deserve it, as he has. The crowd couldn’t keep still in there seats, rustling threw there pockets, taking a glance every few seconds towards the entrance. The crowd was loud, pumped up; excite to witness the main event that headlined tonight pay per view. Wondering though, what would be the outcome? Would it be Uncensored, the first man ever to win the nbW Championship? Maybe it would be Spike Saunders, to become new nbW Champion for the first time in his nbW stint? On the other hand, Would Jack Owyns retain his title? The match was set, and now all it came down to was, who would be the winner? The famous and more popular theme music of nbW, erupted on the PA system. “Spike-It-Up.” Spike Saunders stepped out, and stood at the beginning of the aisle. The fans were on there feet, as he waited a few moments, and took it all in. He adjusted his sunglasses, and let a smile creep out on his face. Though he didn’t waste much time, as you could see he was ready to get to business and the show on the road. He headed right for the ring, still taking in the crowd’s reaction. He made his way up the steel steps, threw his leg over the top rope, and then brought his other leg over right after. He did a quick glance, looking around, before taking his sunglasses off, and handing them to one of the workers on the outside. His music had started to fade out, and replaced by… “Criminal.” By Eminem The ex. NbW Heayweight Champion was ready to get shit rolling. He stormed out of the back, with a very determined look, that at the end of the night. That nbW Title would be back home, around his waist. Were it should have never left. He held his head high, as all his focus was on the seven-foot monster, which had taken his stand in the middle of the ring. Uncensored raised his two fists, and then slowly stuck his two middle fingers out at Spike. However, he entered the ring with caution, as Spike stepped back, but not once, did he take his attention away from Uncensored. They both stood in the ring, staring each other down, until there moment was broken. ‘Poppin’ them thangs. By G-Unit. Spike and UC both turned towards the entrance. The final and last participant in the main event match was the Champion Jack Owyns. Owyns had the title thrown over his shoulder, as he stood in front of the entrance. He took one glance at the two men in the ring, and then at the fans, and then at his title. He loved this moment, and he was for sure as hell, going to cherish it. He grabbed his title, and held it in both hands, before giving it a kiss, and then dropping it to the ground. He charged the ring, wasting not time, as he slide under the bottom rope. With the sound of the bell, gave an explosive eruption from the fans. Jack Owyns, just wanting to get this match finished. He decided to make his attack on the smaller challenger, Uncensored. Uncensored however, was prepared for Owyns, but wasn’t prepared for the seven-foot monster Spike Saunders, that nailed him in the back of the head with his forearm, while Owyns pushed himself out of the grapple, and front dropkicked Uncensored, in the kneecaps. Uncensored went down, as both men began to work together. Spike Saunders grabbed Uncensored, as he started to stand up. As he, body slammed him back down onto his back, giving Owyns a chance to take a shot, which he did. Owyns came down on top of Uncensored with a leg drop to the chest. While Spike Saunders, followed, and came down with a big elbow to the chest of Uncensored. Uncensored tried to make and exit from the ring, except he was denied; as he felt, the big hands of Spike grab him by the hair, and pull him back to his feet. Spike nailed a vertical suplex on Uncensored, and was going to pick uncensored up once more, when he felt Owyns behind him, hit him with a forearm to the upper back, multiple times. Owyns tried to hit a German suplex, but spike just put all his weight on his lower body, shut down Owyns hardcore. “Jesus Christ!” Owyns screamed out, bringing a smile to the face of Spike. The smile left fast, as Uncensored dropkicked Spike right in the chest, helping Owyns hit his German suplex. Though, it look as if the German suplex hurt Owyns more, as it didn’t take long for Spike to recover from the move. As he stood up, but only to fall right into the hands of Uncensored, who pulled off a belly-to-belly suplex. Owns got back up after, but also fell into the hands of Uncensored, and received DDT. Spike and Owyns, were both down, as Uncensored, decide to keep his assault on the big man. He hit Spike with rapid stomps to the chest, and then Irish whipped him towards the rope. While Owyns crawled behind Uncensored, and hit a low blow, while Spike came back with a big boot to the face of Uncensored. Owyns rolled out of the way, as uncensored drop to the canvas floor. He pulled himself up by the ropes, but Spike charged, and clotheslines Owyns over the top rope to the outside. Spike didn’t follow though; instead, he went back after Uncensored. He picked up Uncensored, and brought his knee into the gut of UC. Then grabbed both his arms, and hit a Double Arms under hook suplex. He got back up, and then put his boot to the throat of Uncensored, and put pressure, which started to choke Uncensored, who was gasping for air. The referee quickly broke the hold. As spike, took his foot away from UC throat. Spike grabbed Uncensored by his hair and Jeans, stood him back up, and then tried to chuck him over the top rope, but UC held on, and positioned himself on the apron of the ring. Hoping Spike would come at him, so he could drive his shoulder into the gut of Spike. Except, he failed to notice Owyns standing directly behind him. Owyns pulled UC feet right out from beneath him, as UC dropped slamming his head right off the side of the apron. Spike climbed over the top rope, as he made his way over to were Owyns and Uncensored was, as him and Owyns began exchanging blows. Owyns knew he, was in a losing battle, with trying to defeat this situation with his fist, as he went for a kick, but Spike caught it, as Owyn used his other foot, and hit a spinning heel kick to the chops of Spike Saunders. Spike only stumble backwards, as Owyns followed up with another spinning heel kick to the chops of spike Saunders, except this time, he took the big man down with it. Owyns left Spike were he laid, as he return to Uncensored, and got UC back up on his feet. He slammed Uncensored head first into the steel post, and then pushed him under the bottom rope into the ring. Owyns made his way onto the side of the apron, and then flipped over the top rope, landing with his back onto Uncensored. Owyns went for the first cover of the match… 1... … 2... …KICKOUT! Owyns shook his head, knowing that UC still had some fight in him. As he pulled UC away from the ropes, into the middle of the ring, and then quickly locked on, the Boston crab. Owyns put as much pressure as he could on the legs and lower back of UC, hoping to have him sumbit. Uncensored, tried to fight the pain, as he pulled himself and Owyns towards the ropes. As Spike entered the ring, and came at Owyns hitting him with a boot to the back of the head, breaking the submission. Uncensored pulled himself out of the ring, as Spike picked up and Owyns over his head, and tossed him out over the top rope, right into Uncensored. Spike didn’t want to let either man get back up, so he exited the ring, and quickly grabbed Uncensored, throwing him head first into the steel steps. Spike went to Owyns, picked him up over his shoulder, charged, and slammed Owyns right into the steel post. However, Spike didn’t let go, as he slammed him once more, before finally slamming Owyns on his back, on the arena floor. Spike went back to UC, who was on one knee, as he grabbed him by the hair, and started to help him up onto his two feet, when out of nowhere; UC hit Spike right in the jaw, with a closed fist. Followed by another, and another, and yet another closed fist. Uncensored grabbed Spike, whipped him into the guardrail, then charged, and did a splash onto Spike Saunders. Spike fell on his ass, after the impact. Therefore, Uncensored started hitting him once again, with more closed fist to the head of Spike. Owyns still laid were Spike had left him, as Uncensored, made sure to check back. As he knew Owyns was a sneaky little prick. Uncensored picked up Spike and then pulled off a piledriver, driving Spike head first into the arena floor. UC hooked Spike leg and went for a pin. 1... … 2... … ..3NO! Spike kicked out at the last second, as Uncensored couldn’t believe it. He picked up Spike, and tossed him into the guardrail once more, then dragged him over, and pushed him on top of the ringside table. He slowly picked up Spike, not wanting to break the table, due to there weight, as he wanted to break it, with slamming Spike’s headfirst threw it. He was going for a piledriver, when out of nowhere. Owyns leaped off the top rope with a corkscrew moonsault, into both men. The table had exploded into pieces, as each man landed a little awkwardly on the arena floor. The crowd was on there feet. As neither man had moved a single muscle. All breathing heavily and in much pain from what had just happened. The referee didn’t leave the ring, as he waited a few seconds to see if anyone of them would get up, but nobody did. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... Owyns and Spike both got up, as they stumbled in different directions. Taking this moment to catch there breathe, and regain there focus. UC eventually got back up, as he stumbled to the side of the ring, and flipped the apron, up revealing a chair. Both Spike and Owyns seen this, and did the same thing, as all three of them entered the ring. They all met in the middle of the ring. Uncensored swung up at Spike, Spike swung down at Owyns, And Owyns swung as if he was at bat, in a baseball game at Uncensored. All of them connected at the same time, as each men let go of there chairs, and dropped to the mats. Owyns was bleeding badly, cut open from the power behind Spike Saunders swing, and Uncensored received a cut just under his eye. This time the referee checked on all three men, but none looked as if they were there. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... Spike rolled over, and threw his arm over the body of Jack Owyns. This looked as if it could be it, as the referee dropped down and began to count. 1... … 2... … NO! Owyns lifted his shoulder, before the referee could make the match finalized. Owyns slowly got up off the mat, as at the same time did Uncensored. Uncensored took a swing at Owyns, but Owyns caught it, and followed up with the… ENCORE! The crowd jumped out of there seats, as Owyns turned just as Spike got up onto his feet, and caught Spike with the… ENCORE! Owyns dropped down onto Spike, and hooked his right leg. 1... … 2... … ..NO! Spike had kicked out from the cover and the possible end to the match. Owyns was quite amazed, that Spike wasn’t out from his finisher. As he sat there for a few moments, and noticed his nbW Championship had been brought down to ringside from were he had left it. He pointed in its directions, and then mouthed some words towards it. It looked as if he had said, “Were going home, together.” As Owyns seemed like he just taken a bunch of speed, as he jumped back up onto his feet. He waited, keeping his eye on both men. First, one to stand, Owyns was going to be all over him. Spike had rolled onto his stomach, while Uncensored lay in the same place that Jack Owyns had left him. Owyns didn’t see UC as any threat at this part in the match, so he decided to try to finish Spike once more. Owyns pulled Spike up, and then slammed his knee hard into the gut of Spike Saunders. He wrapped his left arm around the head of spike and dropped down, DDT Spike in the middle of the ring. It looked as if he was going to go for a Pin, but then decided against it. Instead, he applied the figure four leg lock, hoping to make Spike fall into tapping. UC had started to regain his self, as he notice the position, Owyns had Spike in. He crawled over and applied a side headlock to Owyns, except Qwyns kept the figure four leg lock, locked in on Spike. Each time UC would apply pressure, Owyns would apply more pressure on Spike. Spike tried to fight it back, as finally Owyns started to become weaker. Spike took this as his chance, as he reversed the figure four leg lock on Owyns. Owyns screamed in agony, as UC still had the side headlock locked in, and Spike had the reverse figure four leg lock locked in. If Owyns didn’t figure someway to beat this situation, any second now he was about to tap his little heart out. Owyns finally kicked out of the figure four leg lock, but wasn’t able to free himself from the submission move UC applied. Owyns was beginning to have a hard time, trying to catch his breath. Nevertheless, thanks to spike, who dropped an elbow to the head of UC. Owyns was able to catch his breath again. All three men were once again, all down on the mats. Except this time, Spike and UC both fought to get back up on there feet. Except Spike never noticed Uncensored approaching him, until the last minute. VERBAL ASSAULT! Uncensored had connected with his finisher, as Spike dropped to the mat floor. UC pulled himself over Spike, to try an make a cover. 1... … 2... … However, Owyns was able to stop it, as he lunged at UC with an elbow of his own. Owyns got to his knees, and at the same time so did UC. Both men had a stare down, before they started throwing punches back and fourth at each other, while Spike lay in the middle of it all. Owyns finally got the one lucky punch, as UC fell back. Owyns got to his feet, not to fast, but before anybody else could. He made his way over to UC, and brought his foot down hard on UC chest. He turned around, and did the same thing to Spike Saunders. Owyns made his way over to the turnbuckle, as he climbed up onto the top rope. He pushed himself off, and came down on Spike with a top rope splash. He tried to do the same to UC, as he got back up on the top rope, and jumped off with a Top Rope splash. Except Uncensored had lifted both of his knees, but it was too late for Owyns, as he had tried to dodge it, but he just couldn’t. Owyns rolled in pain, as Uncensored
made his way up onto his feet. He grabbed Owyns and brought him
to his feet, as he kicked him in the gut, and then powerbombed Owyns
dead center in the middle of the ring. The match was in Uncensored hands now. He picked Spike up by the hair, and then followed up with a quick snap suplex. He then backed off, as he did the bird, and waited too see who was going to meet there fate first. Spike Saunders slowly made his way back up, as UC went for the verbal Assault, but Spike caught it… SPIKED! The crowd was on there feet, as Spike covered Uncensored. 1... … 2... … 3NO! At the last second, Owyns had broken the pin. He almost never did, as the referee hand was only a few inches away from the canvas in finalizing the match. Spike got back up, as he stumbled backwards into the ropes. Owyns charged and threw his body at Spike, knocking him over the top rope, but Spike held onto Owyns, bringing him with him. Uncensored lay in the ring, while Owyns and Spike lay on the outside. All men looked to be out for the count, as the crowd couldn’t get over the match so far. The referee gave each man a few seconds to stand back up on there feet, but when no one attempted, he was force to count all three downed men. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9.… Once again, the count had been broken, as Spike Saunders was the first to stand up. Uncensored had finally started to move in the ring, as on the outside Spike picked up the tired Jack Owyns, and tossed him hard into the steel steps. Owyns went in head first, as the impact echoed threw the arena. Spike didn’t want to let Owyns recover, as he wanted to end this match now. So, he picked up Owyns and tossed him onto the guardrail, as Owyns fell over it into the crowd. He turned back and made his way into the ring, were by now Uncensored had gotten back up onto his feet. Spike charged and lifted his foot connecting with another Big Boot to the face, which Uncensored dropped back to the canvas floor. He looked on the outside, and there was no sight of Jack Owyns anywhere. Spike picked Uncensored up, as he grabbed and was going to hit another Spiked! On UC… But, What happened next was confusing. The arena’s power suddenly went dead, and the lone light from the nbW tron remained. As if haunted, the Tron lit up to a pale white, shortly to be followed by a shot of a room of some sort. Two men were shown rummaging about the drawers and cabinets, while a voice was also heard. “Find it damnit! IT has to be around here somewhere.” One of the men stepped over to a trophy case and knocked it down, causing it to split open. “Sir, we can’t find it in here. He must have it with him.” Said one of the men, while the other pushed the desk forwards. “Damnit! Keep looking…” replied the voice once more, this time as a figure stepped into the camera’s view. “You seeing this? Such a waste…” One beam of a spotlight strode down the arena aisle to the ring, where Spike was leaning up against the ropes watching what was going on. His face was not pretty. “We gave you a choice; we were nice about it… But now, it’s time to get real. Spike Saunders, you’re home will be torn apart until we find what IT.” Spike was gripping the ropes as if trying to strangle someone to death, his eyes filled with hatred. “The Boss is not happy with you Saunders. And you will be hearing from us again soon…” Spike watched on as the two men behind the man with the voice, approached the second trophy case, toppling it to the ground as well. They bent down shifting through the broken wood, pulling out a belt. It wasn’t any belt, it was his belt. “This belt means a lot to you doesn’t it, Saunders?” he questioned, while Spike nodded his head. “Good, then you’ll enjoy this. Goons!” He watched with his eyes held open by an imaginary force, as one of the men poured so me liquid all over his desk and the belt in their hands. He then pulled out a torch and lit the desk on fire. The man holding the title laid the belt down on the burning desk, which quickly caught to the flames. “No more. Goodbye, Mr. Saunders” His eyes watched on, as his desk continued to burn, and the nbW Tron dimmed back out, with the lights returning to normal. His face was filled with hatred, anger, and fright. Hell would be paid, that was for damned sure. Spiked looked a bit lost, as it seemed as if he had forgotten, that he was in a match at the moment. Uncensored, seen this and took it as a chance to put the match away. He grabbed Spike and spun him around, and then caught him with a face buster. Spike was out, as UC was going for the pin, when Owyns had came out of nowhere, and spun Uncensored around, and caught him with the… ENCORE! Owyns wasted no time, as he hooked Uncensored leg for the pin. 1... … 2... .. 3... IT WAS OVER! Jack Owyns had retained his title, and defeated both Uncensored and Spike Saunders. Jack Owyns couldn’t believe it, as the referee entered the ring, and hand him back the title, that was his. Owyns almost tossed the referee when he ripped the title from his hands. He held it up high in the middle of the ring, as he made his way to each corner, and climbed to the second rope, just to make sure everybody had seen it. The crowd was on there feet, as they applaud him. ‘Poppin’ them thangs by G-Unit made its way back onto the PA system. As continued to celebrate in the ring. This was his dream, And his dream was far from reaching the end. Who was next? |
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Different Side of Kain 
| All characters and situations are © no brand Wrestling 2004, FSN™ © Fox Sports. |