Full Effect 52
Twilight Recap
The nbW tron lit up for all those in attendance and watching from the comfort of their own homes. The Twilight banner displayed before rotating into a video package of the PPV’s outcome.
A lunatic returned and an announcer quit.
Footage of Allison being stalked by Lunatic is shown. They end up meeting and talking. Lunatic annoys her and she gives up and quits on camera.
The lunatic met the paranormal investigator
Footage of Lunatic dumping orange Soda in his pants is shown, as he is met up by Max Hopper and the two converse.
A Tag Championship Match became a Singles bout
Footage of Showtime and Max Hopper fighting backstage are shown. They find themselves entering the EctoCooler truck and being driven off.
And the champions still retained
Footage of the tag match is shown. Proteus was left in the ring with Zion and nailed the Shining Wizard for the pinfall and retain the titles.
A Giant defended the small
Footage of Saunders facing off against SJH is shown. Napoli’s goons attempt to keep the fight in their favor.
The Small turned on the Giant
Napoli is shown smacking the giant’s face, while Cage dropped O’Dell with a DDT. He defended Saunders from the rest but then turns on Saunders and nails him across the skull with a steel chair. And to add more insult he dropped him with a DDT onto that same chair.
One declares they will save nbW
Clip of an unknown voice talking about saving nbW, but only there for himself.
The mystery was solved.
Showtime and Max Hopper are shown meeting the Master. They refuse to cooperate and are tossed out of the van in the midst of the desert. The original D-T van makes the save.
The Gauntlet came to an End.
Clips from the Potright/Flyer match are shown. The two fought their hardest and gave it their all. The finish saw a Locomotive attempt into a War within a Breath, into a pinning condition from a Northern Lights Suplex.
The Champion was decided.
Clips from Flyer/SJH are shown. All the near falls. Napoli’s usage of his cohorts. The unfair advantages Flyer was faced with. The snow falling from the rafters. Spike Saunders coming down for the save. Troy Adams returns to even the odds. High Flyer overcomes it all to lay across SJH for the victory of his nbW career.
Why Cage, Why?
Cameron Cage walked out to the ring amidst the loud boos and remarks thrown his way after what he had done at Twilight. What a nice way to kick off the show.
“Ladies and gentlemen, will you shut the hell up!?”
He glared across the arena as the boo’s continued.
“That’s what I thought! Now you pitiful people are probably wondering why I did what I did to Spike Saunders? I have the answer, but will someone get that cow out of the audience?”
His finger pointed to a large woman sitting in the front row with a sign reading ‘Cage lives in a Cage’.
“I mean seriously, that thing should be out in the pasture somewhere eating on some grass! Let’s go back to what I was going to say. You know Spike, you fight for a man’s honor and you think you’re just in the eyes of Jesus Christ? You think you’re bold and courageous for fighting for me? You fans don’t even know half of the troubles of Spike Saunders!
What makes Spike Saunders so special? People have fought for honor in the past, but these moronic fans think that you’re some kind of God? Blasphemy I say! If anyone on the roster exemplified the qualities of a God like craftwork, it had to be Xander Napoli.”
The very name of the boss caused more boos and jeers to circulate.
“I don’t expect you illiterate, moronic, dumbasses here in Buffalo to understand the divine craft of what a winner represents. Hell, the Bills had four straight years of trying to redeem themselves with a championship, but you just fell short!
You can like or hate it, but the truth is that the NFC East owns the Buffalo Bills. New York Giants…Washington Redskins…and Dallas Cowboys, twice! I’m expecting the Philadelphia Eagles to beat the Buffalo Bills if they ever make it again to the Super Bowl, which doesn’t look possible at the moment.”
The arena became restless, even objects started flying through the air, and their possessors were quickly escorted by security out of the arena.
“Settle down you fools!
The Bills are a perfect example of why I chose to be a part of Xander’s grand plan. The Cameron Cage of old can relate! We’re good and liked by most people. We dominated certain parts of our own field, but in the end we’d crap out! Being good isn’t what it’s all cracked out to be folks. The pressure that comes from playing this…”
Cage smiles and does his best superman pose.
”Super…hero persona. You can only be so good till the people start to call for your head. I’m like a famous Rodney Dangerfield line, I just get no respect! I come out and make the save and you morons don’t say a word, but when the almighty great Spike comes in and makes the save, well then let’s just bow down, lick our lips, and kiss his ass! WORSHIP SPIKE! ALL HAIL SPIKE ‘GOD’ SAUNDERS!!”
This starts up the chanting for their hero.
‘Saunders!’
‘Saunders!’
‘Saunders!’
“You people can kiss my ass for kissing his ass for so long!
When I heard about this match Spike and Xander came up with at Twilight, I got a good laugh to be honest. Spike Saunders, to save my career, has to beat Shawn Jessica Hart? I have to say I wasn’t too comfortable with the idea of relying my career on pitiful ole Spike Saunders. I got to say, the job security being hated by you ingrates and joining up with Xander Napoli is very snug. I can get accustomed to such security!”
Cage laughed. The fans continued their chants but they were loss on him.
“Xander and I have a plan, Kill the Saunders! The legacy, spirit, and accolade that comes with the simple, yet complex thought of Spike Saunders!
And tonight… that starts.”
Cameron Cage tossed the microphone out of the ring and headed back up the aisle. Tonight he would make certain the job was done.
A Rough couple of weeks
Sam Potright opened the door to the arena, the decayed sunlight haloing one of the ring trucks circling this tiny entrance. From dusk to fake fluorescence in a second. He grimaced and kept his head down low, walking across the open pathway towards the locker rooms and showers, one small gym bag gripped tightly in one hand, his other hand free but shoved haphazardly into a pocket. He sidestepped the occasional straggling road agent or consultant or TV production truck lackey, avoiding any and all personal contact.
And through the door he went, disappearing into the talent's rooms.
HBO's Conditions
Deep in the confines of the arena, the CEO sat behind his desk doing... work. Yes folks, the boss is working for a change. Well until a knock on the door interrupted him and a head poked through the doorway.
"Mr. Napoli, there is someone here to see you."
"Who is it?"
"He says he is with the Home Box Office."
"Fine, show him in."
A business man walked in and reaches out to shake hands with Napoli, who reluctantly agreed and followed suit. The two then took their seats.
"Pleasure meeting you Xander. My name is Mortif Lando and I've been assigned the overseeing of no brand Wrestling. As you are well aware, we have agreed to let you go public and live once again, on the grounds of a few conditions."
"Yes I am aware. And as against them as I am, for this business, I have no choice."
"I am glad you understand Mr. Napoli. My bosses have come to enjoy this product, and rather than creating their own from scratch, they would rather fuel the fire here. However, those conditions must be met in order for the contract to stay in order."
"And it will be. As long as you guys stay off my show. It's dangerous."
"If you are referring to Miss Holloway, then yes I do see how it is dangerous. However, this is the corporate world, and risk is a high factor. But enough pleasantries. I am just here tonight to have you sign these documents."
Mortif withdrew a folder and placed it on the desk, sliding it over to Napoli.
"And this is?"
"The future, Mr. Napoli. The future."
Xander opened the folder and skimmed the documents before signing the first one.
"As I agreed with your bosses, we will proceed with your conditions. We had already planned on running the New Dawning program again later this year. And the second show would amount quite well. But what is the third condition?"
Xander signed the remaining documents and handed them back to Mortif.
"New Dawning is all about the viewers and fanbase. We want to give them the chance to feel involved. And as with your previous incarnations, we hope to see you allow complete voting power to the fans.
The second condition is that HBO wants nbW to host a second show, apart from your Full Effect airing. It may be taped, or aired Live, we don't care. We're even willing to promote the show during our ad blocks."
"And the third?" asked Napoli, unsure of what the third page was detailing.
"That will be for a later time, Mr. Napoli. I thank you for your time. We look forward to you fulfilling this Trinity of conditions."
Mortif stood up and walked back out of the room with the signed documents. Napoli leaned back in his chair and gave his brain a whirl.
Earlier...
An hour before Full Effect went live, a black limo was seen arriving at the arena. The identity of the person in the limo was a mystery. All that could be seen was five bodyguards coming out and in the middle of them there was the mystery guy.
He was wearing a disguise and was completely unrecognizable. Questions started to be asked on who that person might be. Some speculated that he was a new wrestler others speculated that he was a business man.
The majority hoped that the identity of the mystery guy will be revealed during the show. But what if the person wasn’t involved with the wrestling side? What if he was just involved in the business side and he wanted to invest?
One thing was sure. This guy’s appearance increased the gossiping around the arena, before Full Effect had even started.
Andrew Martin
Versus
RaVage
Narrator: It has been months since RaVage was last seen on television. His last noted appearance being at Legacy where he competed in a Four Way match with his championship on the line against three nbW legends and hall of famers; Jason Kain, Uncensored, and Malik Roland. Unfortunately Ravage suffered an injury that sidelined him from competing for at least 6 months. But as was seen during our House Show tour, RaVage is back in shape and kicking ass like only he knows how. Tonight, he gets to go head to head with another former champion, Andrew Martin. What a way to re-debut.
Brent Williams stood in the middle of the ring ready to start the next match's introductions.
"The following match is set for one fall, with a 15 minute time limit."
'You know you're right' by Nirvana streamed across the PA system as the arrogant Canadian made his way out from behind the curtains. He cocked his head to the left and smiled before making it to the ring.
"Standing at six foot two, from Fort McMurray, Alberta, Canada. He is a former World Champion, Andrew Martin!"
'Steam Engine' played as the curtains were tossed open to reveal another former champion.
"And his opponent, making his return to the air in no brand Wrestling, also a former World Champion, standing at six foot even, from Watertown, South Dakota, he is RAVAGE!"
Ravage stormed down to the ring and slid inside, ready to attack Martin at the sound of the bell. Brent Williams took his exit as the bell was run.
RaVage looked up at Martin who was more than fueled to fight. The fans were split between who to cheer, as both were not a favorite in their eyes.
Martin quickly went for a tieup, but was whipped back down by his opponents strength. He backed off and went for a grapple again, this time sending a knee into his waist, which allowed him to send a quick uppercut jab into Ravage’s face. Martin followed with a neckbreaker and dropped for the cover.
One…
Two…
… No Three it seemed as RaVage threw his shoulder up off the mat and pushed him off of him. He rolled back onto his arms and thighs to stand, but Martin quickly jumped on his backside and clutched his arms around the neck. A cobraclutch like maneuver.
He held it on tight and smiled as Ravage’s arms dangled with the life seeping away.
‘Check him!’ Yelled Martin to the ref who pulled the arm up and let it fall twice, but a third time was not to be.
Ravage built up his strength and stood up, running backwards into the corner, pounding Martin’s body in to it. RaVage reached his two arms behind to grab Martin by the head and pulled him forwards to slam him back down on the mat.
Ravage then locked a leg vice on Martin, but Martin was the submission expert here and managed to grab the nearbye rope forcing the hold to be broke. As Ravage argued with the referee, Martin shot up and grabbed at Ravage’s tights and rolled him up for another cover attempt.
One!
Two!
Not quite yet. Martin screamed out and stomped his foot into Ravage’s chest over and over again. He yelled at the referee that it was a three count and he was the winner, but of course that did no good. Ravage used that time to get back up and crouch.
SPEAR!
Ravage nailed Andrew down to the mat with a spear, and quickly hoisted him back to his feet. He lifted him up into the air for a powerslam, but Martin clutched on and dropped Ravage with a DDT. Just as RaVage got back up to his feet, Martin moved in for the kill.
Definition of Perfection!
But that last burst of energy was all he had, as he collapsed to the mat next to Ravage. The referee started the count.
One..
Two…
Three…
Neither man moved still.
Five…
Six…
Martin rolled up to his knees as Ravage did the same. Martin quickly rebounded himself off the ropes and nailed a dropkick into Ravage’s chest, sending him down again. This time he decided to go for the submission, but Ravage kicked his legs and sent Martin across the ring.
Ravage kipped up and rushed at Martin again.
SPEAR!
He pulled Andrew back up and mouthed off some inaudible words before he set him up with the spinning tigerslam straight into the pin.
V for Victory!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The referee signaled for the bell to end the match. He then walked over and held Ravage’s hand high in the air to signify him as the victory.
Ravage smiled to the crowd and at the camera. His first match back (on air at least), and he was on a roll. Great exposure towards his goal: The World Championship.
Winner by pinfall, RaVage!
What Legends are made of
After Andrew Martin had left the ring, the lights in the arena started to dim.
Here's my key
Philosophy
A freak like me
Just needs infinity
Relax
Take your time
And take your time
To trust in me
And you will find
Infinity, infinity
‘Infinity 2008’ started playing all over the arena, and everyone in attendance was anxious to see who it is. Suddenly three bodyguards wearing all black appeared and just behind them was the man from earlier. But this time he was recognized by everyone immediately.
All the anxiety to see who it, was turned into booing as they saw who it was. Their hatred for this guy was real. They despised everything that he stood for, everything he had done. He had betrayed them more than once.
As he arrived to the ring together with his bodyguards, he asked for a mic and he immediately was given one.
‘I guess it’s easy to say that you remember me very well. But for those who don’t really remember let me remind you who I am. I am THE hall of famer of no brand Wrestling. I am the guy that brought respect to the federation. I am the all conquering. I am WILLIAM ARTHUR REAGAN.’
The booing in the arena became deafening. Everyone remembers the days when they thought WAR had changed but he was just using the “fans” for his gain.
‘It has been a couple of months since I was last here. I was thrown out of no brand Wrestling. I was thrown out of this country. My friend Don Toto was accused, falsely I must say, about some things he had done in the past. I was accused as being an accomplice. We were all sent to Italy for the trial. Unfortunately things didn’t go well for my friend. He has been sentenced for twenty years in prison. Luckily for me before I went to trial, I was surprisingly given a call from the US Ambassador in Italy.
He told me that he arranged with the government of Italy to be extradited back to the US, where I will be a free man.’
The booing continued to be quite high, and this time a few anti United States chants started to be heard as well.
‘When I came back to the US I immediately knew that I had to return to no brand Wrestling. I couldn’t leave with my image tarnished. After all I am the most successful person to ever step in this ring.
But before making my return, I had to make sure that I had the right plan. Unfortunately I can only fight in a maximum of two fights a year due to my past injuries, and I plan to leave those fights for the right opportunity.
Therefore I spent all my time watching tapes of the no brand Wrestling shows as well as having someone film me the houseshows. I wanted to find an extraordinary talent that I could mould into the next best thing.
And finally I found him. I found my new protégé. The person that will take no brand Wrestling by storm.
Tonight he isn’t here in the building, but I promise you, that you will soon witness something special, that you will tell your grandkids that you were part of it.’
With that he put the mic down and as ‘Infinity’ started playing again, William Arthur Reagan made his way to the back accompanied by his bodyguards.
Here's my key
Philosophy
A freak like me
Just needs infinity
Relax
Take your time
And take your time
To trust in me
And you will find
Infinity, infinity
Requesting a shot 
"Xan-Man!"
Xander Napoli turned away from a ring official he was speaking to, to see the two upstart athletes that had taken nbW by a storm recently; The Creede Bros.
"What do you two want? I am sort of busy here."
"I know. And we're both rooting for Flyer's loss. If you need help, just call for us."
"I will keep that in mind. Now if you will excu..."
"Wait. Since we are going to do you a favor, should you want us to... Can you do us one?" asked Ace.
"Yeah, we want a shot at the champions." spoke Spade.
"Fine. Since I'm in a good mood, we'll do just that. Tonight it will be the champions D-T defending against The Creede Bros for the Dynasty Tag Team Championships."
"Awesome!" Ace hugs Xander, and is shoved away. "Sorry."
"Come on Ace, let's go!" The two rush away and holler back "Thanks Xan!" before disappearing into another hallway.
Division and Conquer
Fresh off of Twilight with history being made, High Flyer being crowned the new NBW heavyweight champion, the paying public filled the empty, somewhat beer-stained seats in the arena, waiting to see what was going to unfold tonight. Would Xander walk out and weasel the strap away from HF? And what about the tag team champions?
They would find out soon enough.
But tonight, tonight was going to bring them a little surprise first, in the form of pink-haired woman they hadn't seen in months.
"More Bounce in California" blared through the stadium as fans looked at each other in curiousity. That was Callie Urban's music. But Callie hadn't been seen or heard from in months. What was she doing back?
They watched as true to expectation, the pink-haired woman sauntered out of the entrance, mic in hand, trademark sunglasses over her eyes. Waving for the music to fade she brought the mic up and looked at the crowd.
"Well heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeello candyasses and hosebeasts! I'm sure y'all are having a fine and dandy evening, comin' ta see yer favorite High Flyer and whatnot. I bet I'm keepin' the show from goin' on. I bet yer all wonderin' why the hell my ass is here for the first time in months!"
There were a smattering of cheers from different parts of the audience.
"Lemme tell ya, a thing like a broken neck, it's kinda tricky. Sorry to disappoint but I had some unplanned, unwanted but necessary surgery that's kept my grumpy ass out of commission, something that my dear, dear friend Mr. Napoli was glad to point out to the big suits. I love ya Xan, I really do, and I can't WAIT to make it up to ya."
Pausing she walked a few paces and looked out at the audience.
"But yer probably still wondering WHY I'm here. Pull up a beer and listen to Callie's storytime. See, I'm getting out of the hospital and almost done with physical therapy, AGAIN. I gets home to my apartment and just lay down on my nice, comfortable couch and some asshat rings the doorbell. Well just my luck, my girlfriend ran out to get me some of those little Milano cookies I'm addicted to.
"So my tired as gets up and answers the door, ready to unleash hell on this asshat who has shitty, shitty timing. I open the door and who's standing there? Why none other that Mr. Big Wig HBO guy. Like I said, an asshat. But I have to let the asshat in because the asshat pays my hospital bills. I lower myself back down onto my very nice couch and tell him he can grab whatever he wants out of the fridge, because my busted out ass isn't about to get back up and serve Mr. Asshat a cool, refreshing beverage."
"I says to him, Mr. Big Suit, why are you bothering me? I just got back home. I'm trying to get comfortable. Not that I don't appreciate you covering my med bills, but I'm friggin' tired and I just want a bottle of Jack and my cookies. Well the asshat looks at me and has the audacity to bring out papers from his fancy fake-leather briefcase."
"He says, "Callie, I know you've had a rough spell these last months. We're truly very sorry for everything you've had to go through." I'm thinkin' to myself, well no-shit Sherlock! I am too! I says to him, what do you want? He looks at me again all serious and full of bs and says 'We need you to come back to nbW. We need the Keystone division back and running."
"Well friggin' great. I says okay, I'll do it. But you gotta let me do whatever I want and you gotta sign me a new contract stating Xander Napoli, head honcho of Twatsicles R US can't interfere with my business. Mr. Asshat says that's fine and two weeks later I get my papers and now I'm here!"
Callie pauses again and takes a few paces across the stage.
"Xan-Xan. Xanadu. I told you I'd repay the favor. I'm going to make yer life hell. But, ya know? I got to thinkin'. There are a whole lotta butt-monkeys backstage that need purpose. They need somethin' ta do in nbW. I got those rusty cogs in my brain to start gearin' and I got an idea. I like to call it the Wheel of Urban-Morality.
"Coming soon for all you precious little buttwipes to enjoy, you'll have an ENTIRE show of nbW to see the roster compete for spots in the Keystone division. I don't let just anyone in. I want the best of the butt-monkeys. The ones that know how to aim their poo before they fling it. Each match will have a stipulation. A stipulation created from my wonderfully warped little mind. Each stipulation will be left up to chance, because none of the wrestlers will know what it is until I spin my little Wheel of Urban-Morality. Whatever it lands on, that match will immediately take place.
Sound good? I know. So get ready. Coming soon, the new Age of the Keystone Division. All the butt-monkeys good enough to make the cut are going to have a shiny new title to work toward. And y'all just thought HF had a fun time getting to earn the Heavyweight strap!"
With that she flipped the crowd off and walked back stage, leaving both the fans and the wrestlers in the back stunned and wondering what the newly reborn Keystone division would mean for nbW.
A Premonition 
The camera cut to a low view from behind a man, over his shoulder, as he walked the hallway. You could not see the man's face from this angle, but nbW fans knew immediately who it was and the live audience gave a cheer. This was Proteus. And he was walking tall on his way to meet his longtime tag partner, Showtime. He had news of the gravest importance and walked quickly.
He reached the door and opened it... only to be shocked at what he found.
"My Gods!" Proteus exclaimed.
"Knock! Jeez! How many times have I told you you must knock!" Showtime tried quickly to hide what he was doing.
"We used to live in a van, I assumed there were no more secrets... but this... this is just disturbing!"
"Well what do you expect?" embarrassment beamed from under Showtime's mask. "You're the only one around here who's getting laid consistently. The rest of us need to look elsewhere for entertainment."
"I know you're bored, dude, but... for cripes' sake, you were..." Proteus shuddered, "Reading! A book!"
At this moment, Gabriella Healy, Proteus' special ladyfriend and nbW make-up gal, burst in. "What's going on in here? I heard a yelp."
"It's nothing..." Showtime grumbled. "I'm... I'm too embarrassed to finish. you might as well come in."
"Showtime, there's no need to be ashamed," Proteus sat next to his partner, "Lots of grown men still read. I mean, I've never had the need for literacy, especially not these days..."
"That's for sure," Gaby blushed.
"But I know that it's something lots of mature adults enjoy."
Showtime sighed, "...it started when I was a teenager. I'd come home after school and read comics. I stopped reading for a while when I met my first wife, but after the divorce, it seemed like nothing but reading! Shakespeare, Kerouac, Proust..."
"That's just vulgar!" Gaby cried out.
"Now, now, dear." Proteus comforted his lady, "We can't judge Showtime just because he reads every now and then. I've seen you reading once or twice."
"I remember that night I just sat in bed and read for an hour while you watched," Gaby said softly.
"Now, I don't think Showtime wants to hear about that," Proteus snickered.
"I don't think I've ever heard of a woman reading," Showtime pondered.
"Of course we do," Gaby said, "We have the same needs as any man. We just don't talk about it the way you do. It's private."
"She likes it when we read to each other," Proteus smirked.
"Well enough of that," Showtime interrupted, "It was just a quick one before our match tonight. What's up?"
Proteus' tone changed to one of utmost seriousness, "Showtime, I've had... a vision."
Showtime quirked his eyebrow just a bit, "Is that so..."
"I told him it was nothing," Gaby interjected, "But he's been freaking out all day."
"This is nothing to joke about, woman!" Proteus yelled out. He collected his nerves and said, more calmly, "It was... a very grave premonition. It came to me in a dream."
"Go on," Showtime said.
"In this dream I was riding on horseback on a Morroccan beach. As I rode toward the sun it turned black and fell into the sea. Then a red flare burst out over the horizon. We swam out to find it."
"You and the horse?"
"It was a seahorse, obviously. We swam out to the middle of the ocean and found your dead body covered in seaweed clutching a copy of Daredevil on DVD. As I tried to bring you back to shore, I sunk deeper and deeper into unstoppable evil, drowning and cursing the name... Affleck."
"And what does this mean?" Gaby asked.
Proteus' face became like stone. "The greatest evil we have ever known will soon arrive... in nbW."
Showtime fell silent. Proteus continued, "That's right. I believe the Jonas Brothers will be playing a concert on the next edition of Full Effect. And they must be stopped."
Showtime and Gaby looked at each other. Showtime finally said, "Well I'm not sure it means that..."
"That's what I told him," Gaby said, "It's nothing to get worried about, it's just a silly dream."
"Well let's not go too far," Showtime added, "The last seahorse dream Proteus had was prior to the release of Disaster Movie. He has an uncanny knack for predicting great atrocities. Who knows what madness may soon unleash itself in nbW..."
A man with a clipboard poked his head into the dressing room. "Hey, you guys are up!"
"Well all this doom and gloom is starting to really get to me," Gabby said, "Do you guys mind if I start coming to the ring with you?"
"Well I don't know," Showtime said, "We've never really done well with valets... and besides, don't you have work to do back here?"
"Are you serious?" Gaby laughed, "I haven't really done my job in months. I'm amazed they still pay me."
"Come on, dude," Proteus said, "I've been going with Gabby for what feels like about three years. Any one of our enemies might easily be lurking around the corner. I'd like she's safer at ringside with us."
"Well okay..." Showtime groaned, "But if you're going to distract the ref on our behalf, make sure we all get a look."
At that, they all burst out laughing. Ha ha ha! "Good one, Showtime!"
"Hah, yeah. But seriously, it's been like three months since I've seen a boob."
D-T
Versus
The Creede Bros.
Narrator: D-T successfully defended their championships against friend and A.I., Max Hopper and Zion, at Twilight, and even solved the riddle of the Ecto Coolers. Now they are back on top with no true contenders in their wake. Is there anyone in the locker room that can stand up to this duo?
We cut to the ring as "The Fire Burns" by Killswitch Engage was fading out.
"This match is scheduled for one fall," Brent Williams announced into the mic. "Currently in the ring, at a combined weight of 392 Lbs, Ace and Spade, the Creede Brothers!"
"The Creedes made a splash in nbW some months ago when they debuted with a win over our tag champions," Marc Gordon explained to the fans, "Let's see if they can make magic again and earn themselves a title match at our supershow, New Dawning."
"I'll bet they can," Renton proclaimed, "There's gotta be someone who knows the weakness in D-T's game, and I'll bet anything it's the young Creedes. They're one up on D-T! They'll make it two, and take the gold!"
"This could in fact be the night for these up-and-comers," Gordon noted, "Their tactics are as sharp as any team I've seen here in a long time."
Brent continued, "And their opponents..."
Checkmate honey, beat you at your own damn game!
The crowd went into a wild frenzy as Aerosmith's Draw the Line played at the longtime nbW Dynasty Tag Champions appeared on the stage.
"Accompanied to the ring by Gabriella Healy, weighing in at 429 Lbs, the nbW Dynasty Champions Showtime and Proteus... D-T!"
"D-T are fresh off an impressive win over Max Hopper and Zion, two of the most ferocious challengers in the Dynasty Tag division history," Gordon noted.
"Damn right," grumbled Renton, "You'd think if anyone could beat those yutzes, it'd be a man who's known them for ten years, and a sentient computer program designed to destroy them at wrestling!"
"Well them's the breaks," Gordon laughed, "They're not champions for nothing, Rents, and D-T have always managed to overcome the many challenges they've faced in this company. It's why the fans love them so much."
"I thought the fans loved them because they were retarded."
"That's just mean."
The bell rang and Proteus blew a kiss to Gaby on the outside before locking up with Ace. He began to toss him pretty confidently with armdrags before grounding him with an armbar.
"Look at that kid, showing off for his little girlfriend," Renton muttered.
Ace battled to his feet and whipped Proteus. The champ ducked a clothesling and came back with a high calf kick. He tagged out. Showtime and Proteus double-whipped Ace, lifting him on the rebund into a high double-flapjack.
"God I hate the way they double-team!" Renton complained.
"Every team double-teams," Gordo pointed out.
"But... they do it especially bad!" Rents whined as Showtime continued to get the better of Ace with a series of suplexes. It was around this point that something strange started to go on in the audience.
"Boo! Hiss!"
"What's going on?" Gordon looked around.
"I don't know," laughed Rents, "But I like it!"
"You suck donkey balls!" some angry voice yelled out. Showtime paused, uncertain exactly what he was hearing. He hadn't been seriously booed the entire time he'd been in nbW (including his forgettable early two-week stint as a heel.) This was quite puzzling.
Showtime whipped Ace into the corner. However, in his confusion, he was off a step and Ace nailed him with an elbow and started battering him with blows before tagging out to Spade. Spade took him down with a spinning powerbomb and covered.
ONE...
TWO...
Nope.
"Devastating move, but it'd take more than that to put away a seasoned champ like Showtime."
"You suck!" someone yelled.
Showtime sat up to try to find the heckler, but was nailed with a stiff boot to the skull. Spade dropped elbows across the sternum of Showtime. He held the fallen champ in a reverse chinlock. Proteus began stomping his feet. Most of the fans clapped and stomped along. However, that one voice kept screaming epithets.
"YOU ARE NOT A GOOD WRESTLER MISTER SHOWTIME! BAD BAD BAD BAD BAD!"
It wouldn't have been so hard to ignore this voice, except... somehow, it had a microphone. Nobody seemed to see the source.
Showtime battled his way to his feet, and dropped Spade with a reverse DDT, moving in for the tag.
"BOOOO!"
Proteus rushed in to stomp the downed Creede. He covered quickly.
ONE...
No, not even two. Proteus continued to stretch him out.
"HEY PROTEUS... YOU SUCK WORSE THAN SHOWTIME!"
Proteus tried not to heed the words as he held a leglock.
"HEY PROTEUS... I GOT YER LADYFRIEND!"
Proteus looked then and saw a hand coming out of the audience grabbing Gaby by the hair. Shocked, Proteus quickly tagged out to Showtime and headed to the ringside area. Showtime, in short order, stood Spade up and nailed him with a Standing Ovation. Ace rushed in, but was dropped to the outside by a back body drop. Showtime covered.
ONE
TWO
THREE!
The bell rang. With that, Showtime rushed outside to join his partner. Proteus had the man by the wrist. It appeared to be a homeless man. In fact, there was an entire crew of homeless dudes in rags with scruffy beards and fingerless gloves, looking like ungodly fleas and ticks and maybe even rats lived in their hair and beards. The main one had two missing teeth, the rest looked like greasy corn niblets.
Showtime grabbed the mic and screamed, "Who sent you? Who told you to come here and heckle me, huh? Who do you think you are? WHO SENT YOU?!?!"
"Hey man, I's just doin what the director said," the Homeless man replied.
"...what?" Showtime said flatly.
"I'm just followin' director's orders, fella!"
With that, a super-freaked out look fell on Showtime and Proteus' faces and they walked out not in triumph, but in dismay and fear. Not the "director." Anyone but that.
Gaby followed them, confused, to the locker room.
Winners by Pinfall, D-T!
A Rough couple of weeks, part 2 
It was burrito day at the catering table. Through the on-and-off machinations that Xander Napoli had put this company through, believe it or not, the man had succeeded in retaining a catering company's contract. It was with the news of the catering crew's arrival that left Sam Potright sitting alone on a cold wooden bench as spandex and lycra-clad musclemen moved out, in mass, towards the scoping wideness of the backstage area.
Sam had his gym bag at his feet. He tapped a toe on either side of it, pushing it back and forth across rugged linoleum (it appeared the county and state legislatures might want to look into some repair budget, Sam thought). The chipped-paint pattern of stainless steel and a neutral blue stared at him if he looked up.
A knock came at the door.
"C'mon! Free burritos! This is completely -" High Flyer said as he swung it open. Three burritos in one hand, a world championship belt balanced across the elbow of his other arm, he stopped in place.
"- Oh. Hey."
Sam didn't even glance in his direction.
"Yo, Sam. Free burrito?" Flyer offered.
Still no response. Flyer shrugged and popped half of the burrito in his mouth before ripping it off from the other half. Meat and juice dribbled onto his chin.
"Goddamn, that's one good burrito." Flyer smacked his lips, gobbled the rest in one bite, and turned his attention towards Sam.
"So, what's up? Ain't had a chance to talk to you these past couple of weeks. Shooting back and forth between high schools and PR events and all that stuff, and still working - I know you just got your knee brace off. Good news, I guess?"
Sam slid the gym bag and let it bang and crumple against the lockers in front of him. "Not really. It's... it's been a rough couple of weeks."
"How can that be, man? You're rocking and rolling, it looks like."
Sam finally turned and looked at Flyer. His eyes seemed sunken, the bags under his eyes were so developed. His eyeballs were bloodshot. "Not a bit, man. Not. One. Bit."
"What the fu -"
"I lost everything. I've lost everything. This... this goddamned economy! This goddamned - Washington Mutual! My house! FUCK!"
Sam kicked the locker in front of him, standing up and leaning it against it immediately thereafter. Flyer did the only thing he could. He stared in shock.
"There's nothing left. Foreclosure. College education... pension... it's all gone. It's all gone."
Sam repeated it over and over. "This is all I have."
Flyer suddenly, certainly, felt a lot less hungry. His stomach twisted the burrito inside of it like a washcloth. And yet, he couldn't move.
So Sam continued to mutter to no one in particular, as nbW's world champion stared on in disbelief.
Pep Talk 
The nbW Tron lit up to the office of Napoli where he stood before a few of his cohorts.
"Listen. It's been a few weeks since that punk won the title. Tonight, he will lose. I've called in a favor with an old rival of his, but he won't be able to make it tonight. So Gyle, I'm leaving it up to you tonight."
Gyle flexed his muscles and O'Dell tapped at them while Torment watched on.
"Show him how you squeeze coconuts. Do not let him win!"
Napoli sat back on his desk as Gyle and Torment left. O'Dell walked back up to Napoli.
"Boss, I could beat him. If you give me the chance. Just give me a No DQ match and ban interference. I'll show the world the Napoli Dynasty and put an end to High Flyer's following. Just as the Trinity in 1945 was the start of the Atomic Age for the World, the Execution of High Flyer would signify the start of the Napoli Regime's Dominance."
"No. We'll leave it to Gyle tonight. And even if he fails, I still have a trick up my sleeve."
O'Dell walked away disappointed, hoping to have a shot at hte gold and proving them all wrong.
i
Maybe Tonight...
Showtime and Proteus marched determinedly through the hallways backstage. "It doesn't make sense," Proteus said, "How did he find out about this place? what does he want?"
"I don't know, I don't know," Showtime sneered, "I don't know and I don't like it. But he didn't say his name, so maybe if we're lucky, it's not him at all."
"Are you kidding?" Proteus said, "He said Director. He said Director! What else could that mean?"
"Listen, I just... I don't wanna think about it!" Showtime snarled, "As far as I'm concerned that chapter has been over and done with for years. I'm not eager to revisit it. But if that's what it's come to... then so help us all. We may just have to tear the nbW apart to defend it from him."
They entered to nbW locker room and found El Avestruz and Emo Kevin gearing up in case they were needed.
"Hey Showtime! Hey Proteus!" El Avestruz greeted them, "How'd it go out there?"
Showtime slammed El Avestruz against a locker. "Hey, what was that for?!"
"Tell us what you know, you little shmuck," Showtime snapped, holding the kid by the neck against the wall. "Is he coming here? What's his game? ARE YOU WORKING FOR THEM?!"
"I don't know what you mean, man!" El Avestruz whimpered, "What them? Who's he?"
"Don't play dumb! Four homeless persons came to ringside with a microphone and said they were DIRECTED to yell insults at us!"
"And my girlfriend!" Proteus added.
"In the harassment sense of the word," Showtime clarified. "You don't know anything about that, do you? Because I am sick to death of ghosts coming back from the past and trying to ruin every good thing we try to build here!"
"I swear, I don't know nothin'! Kevin and I just got out of a Dubai Prison Camp! We were mistaken for actual Dubaians, so they locked us in a cellar and beat us with steel rods and fed us wood chips. When they found out we were from North America they gave us $8000 worth of cigars."
Showtime let him go. "Whatever. You're too much of an idiot to know anything about this. Come on, Proteus."
The champions moved on down the hallway, when they were approached by Trent McKnight. "Uh, guys? There's something you might want to see."
"Oh Lordy what now?" Proteus whined. Trent led them to the exit to the parking lot. When they got outside they were shocked to see it.
It was a van - a light blue GMC from the mid-90's, known for a time as a trademark of theirs, the Official D-T van. They didn't use it often anymore, since it went into semi-retirement in 2002, but it was a cherished part of their history. It was meant for better things than this.
It had been flipped upside down and set on fire. As the flames engulfed it, the exterior blackening, the spray-painted message on the outside was quite clear.
Dejected, Showtime and Proteus sat on the asphalt and watched their beloved van burn.
"They finally killed our van, dude." Proteus muttered.
"...I guess there's no doubt about it now," Showtime sighed. "We know who we're up against."
Proteus lay back in exhaustion. "It's just one thing after another these days, isn't it."
"Yeah," Showtime said. "It is."
Spike Saunders
Versus
Cage
Narrator: At Twilight Cameron Cage was left in a cage thanks to Napoli, while his friend Spike Saunders attempted to free him and his career. But during the course of the match Cage found himself free and helped clear the ring for Saunders. However just when it was safe he turned and nailed his friend in the back of the skull with a steel chair. One has to wonder how the giant feels about being stabbed in the back after all the effort he put forward. Tonight he gets his shot at Cage, and one has to wonder if the gentle giant can remain such.
“Spike-It-UP!” exploded over the speakers and the fans rose to their feet and cheered their hero and in their view. Spike Saunders shoved his way past the curtain and on out onto the entrance aisle, where he posed a moment for the fans photography. Taking his time, he walked along side the gate railings and slapped hands with the fans before stepping up the ring steps. Spike stared over at Cameron Cage as he stepped up on the turnbuckle briefly.
The referee announced the match rules.
"As declared by the owner of no brand Wrestling, this match up is a No Disqualification match."
The referee patted the two men down, and called for the bell. The two quickly locked arms as they pranced in the center of the ring, attempting to get leverage over one another. Saunders had the power and thrust Cage backwards, rolling head over heels. Cage snapped himself back up to his feet, using the second rope to stand. The two then locked up once more, again Saunders just shoved him backwards, this time into the corner.
Cage rushed at Saunders, ducking under his arm, to bounce off the ropes right back at the big man. What he got was an elbow to the face, bringing him down to the mat once more. Cage once more rushed at the ropes and ran at Spike full speed, knocking his chest with his own.
Of course all that did was cause Cage to be caught in the giant’s arms, and hurled to the floor with a heavy slam. Cage refused to stay down and scooted back to the corner to regain his composure.
Cage walked back to the center of the ring extending his hand, and Spike put his own out, as the two got into a test of strength. Saunders easily whipped both arms downward, and held them there till Cage freed one hand and smacked him aside the face. Cage followed up with a small sidearm tackle, pushing Saunders back into the corner.
Cage took to a series of kicks and knees into Saunders. But Spike caught one foot and shoved Cage into the corner where he proceeded to lay in with some deafening palm slaps to his chest. After six of these Cage’s skin was sprouting a new tattoo, one the shape of a giant hand.
Spike grabbed him by the arm and hurled him towards the center of the ring, but he never let go and whipped him right back into a short arm clothesline. Spike dropped down for the cover.
One…
Two…
Not quite yet… Kickout.
It was sort of expected. Saunders pulled Cage back up to his feet and heaved him into a bear hug. Cage’s arms flailed around trying to break the grip. His feet kicked at the waist, but couldn’t connect with any soft spots. His flailing arms slowly lost speed…
*CHOMP*
Cage leaned forward and bit the face while clawing at the eyes, which was enough to get him free. He quickly followed up with a series of kicks to the midsection and a DDT. Cage then dropped for the pin.
One…
Two…
Not even a two count, when Cage was tossed off the giant. Cameron waited patiently for him to stand back up and he rushed the ropes coming back with a highflying dropkick.
A quick and efficient dropkick to the chest of Saunders, caused him to reel back a step or two. Cage pulled himself back up off the mat and hit yet another dropkick this time a bit higher, connecting with Spike’s jaw. Spike rebounded off the ropes causing him to kneel forward, just enough that Cage was able to hook his arms around his head, and drop him on his face.
Double Arm DDT!
Cage was on a roll, and the fans were chanting for their hero to get up off his back and win the match. Cage had other plans of course. He grabbed his legs, spun around on the heel, applying the infamous maneuver known as the figure four. Saunders screamed out in pain as the move was applied expertly and quickly.
His leg muscles were not enough to counter the hold, not after the last dropkick having knocked his mind loose. The referee saw Saunders’s shoulders on the mat and went for the pin count.
One…
Two…
Shoulder up and Saunders continued to attempt to roll his adversary over, transferring to pain to him. Cage saw that the referee was paying close attention to Spike Saunders’ shoulders, so he gripped out at the ring ropes and strengthened his pressure.
One…
Two…
A close one as Saunders’s shoulders once more were hitting the mat.
‘Let’s Go Saunders’
‘Let’s Go Saunders’
‘Let’s Go Saunders’
The fans cheered for the large man, as he struggled to get the maneuver flipped, his weight sliding from his legs to his chest. The two fought one another for dominance. Saunders rolled his weight to the left as best as he could, until he managed to get them both flipped.
The pain was now shooting up Cage. Cage quickly released the hold not wanting any more pain, which allowed Saunders a few moments relief as he laid back against the ropes.
Cage stood back up to his feet and took advantage of the laying giant, as he ran his knee into the man’s face. He then pulled him up to his own two feet, pushing him into the turnbuckle, driving lefts and right punches into his chest and stomach area. Cage mounted Spike in the corner, and brought his hands down repeatively.
One!
Two!
Three!
Four!
Five!
Six!
Seven!
Eight!
A ninth could not land, as Spike shoved Cage forward with a modified powerslam. Spike dropped himself forward, landing his elbow into Cameron’s chest and went for the pinfall.
One…
Two…
Kicked out!
Saunders rolled back over onto his knee’s and pulled himself to his feet, while Cage clutched at his chest.
‘Let’s Go Saunders!’
‘Let’s Go Saunders!’
‘Let’s Go Saunders!’
Spike stood back up to his feet and grabbed Cage by the throat. His hands throttled the younger man’s neck, as he pulled him up off the ground, holding him as high as his arms would reach, as the fans continued to cheer and chant.
ChokeSLAM!
The impact was sound as Cage’s body contacted with the surface below. Saunders went to cover Cage but met repeated fists from him. Spike gripped Cage around the neck and lifted him up once more, this time drawing him onto his shoulders, and signaling to the fans that the end was near.
Spiked!
Spike once again covered Cage for the pinfall.
One…
Two…
*WHACK*
The duo of The Executioner and Gyle had entered the ring and slammed two chairs to the back of Saunders. The pin was adverted and Cage attempted to recover.
O’Dell lifted Saunders up and dropped him with the Perfect-plex, while Gyle sunk his arms around the giants neck and locked on his ‘Crucifuxation’ submission hold.
Cage smiled.
He took the chair out of O’Dell’s hands and had Gyle hold Saunders still as he drove it into his gut. He then wound up and swung at his head, but Saunders dropped, causing the chair to connect with Gyle’s face.
SPEAR!
Cage down on the ground, Spike Saunders rushed Gyle and tossed him over the rope. He then walked over to O’Dell and yanked him by the arm and grabbed at his neck.
Chokeslam!
Spike grabbed Cage by the head and pulled him up. He knelt him between his legs and grasped at his waist before drawing him up above his head for a powerbomb.
Powerbo…
Cage was drove down to the mat, but at that moment Spike’s knee collapsed and caused his balance to falter. Cage landed very hard and unprotected as the Powerbomb maneuver went sideways causing him to land with his neck tilting on impact.
Saunders clutched at his knee on the ground, while Cage remained motionless. The referee was checking on him and shook his head, throwing up his arms in the X.
Saunders pulled himself up by the ropes and limped over to Cage.
“What happen?”
The ref continued to check on Cage asking him how he was.
Saunders spoke again. “Is he alright?”
The referee’s face was grim. Saunders grabbed him by his collar and turned him to face him.
“IS HE ALRIGHT?” spoke Saunders once again, emphasizing his worry.
The EMTs, Trainers, and even some security made their way down to the ring. The head EMT opened his eyelids and checked for response. He grabbed at his wrist and checked the pulse.
“His breathing and pulse are erratic. We have to get him out of here now.” Spoke the head EMT to Napoli. Xander nodded his head and understood, urging the rest out of the way. Cage was slowly slid out of the ring on aboard and laid on a stretcher as the EMTs continued to check on his condition.
Saunders attempted to help but the referee held him back requesting the professionals do their job they were trained on. He could only watch as Cameron Cage was rolled up the aisle; his condition unknown.
Spike stepped out of the ring and dropped down to sit on the edge of the apron. His face told the story as a look of worry overtook his ever so common grin.
What had he done?
Lunatic Moment
Lunatic was walking down a corridor. It looked as if he hadn’t showered since Twilight. He was still clothed in only his undergarments. He also had what appeared to be the orange soda stains all over his body. He was carrying some sort of device in his hand in front of his body.
“Dude, its all like, no, you know?” He said. “Why are you here?! Are you still pissed that your career died once you left nbW?!”
Lunatic looked into the camera. “What I’ve got here is like some sort of machinery that’s all like recordeding and it’s also got like electro magneteticed fields or some bullshit. I’m hoping to catch me the ghost of Max Hopper’s career.”
“Did DD-T piss you off THAT much?!”
He continued to walk.
“OMG~!, dude~! The Em Effeter is all like spiking and shit. No pun intended for the Saunders.”
He still continued to walk.
“Does someone hate themselves some Captain Crunch?”
…still walking.
“No dude, quit sayin’ that shit.” He said to the ‘ghost.’ “But why aren’t you gone? Why do you still taunt the people that make an inhaboitatingions?”
He stopped.
“I guess I’ll just have to check the Eve Pees and all that.”
He's coming...
"My Destruction was but a ruse," spoke a voice in the darkness. "A ruse carefully planned out."
The voice grew louder but remained unidentifiable.
"And now, that ruse has come fullcircle. My time to shine is upon us again. There is no SaveUS here. I am not out to SAVE nbW or you fans. I am here for one reason, and that reason is the gold."
A lit cherry from a cigar shows as it is broken off and slowly falls to the ground.
"Save Us. Save You. Save nbW. Save whatever you wish. Destruction can not be Saved."
Heading out
The cameras pan back to the locker room area where one of the wrestling talent was shown walking out of the shower with a towel around his waist. Due to the angle of the camera it is not possible to get a look at the superstars face as he approaches a bench and opens up his locker.
Withdrawing a duffel bag and opening it, he pulls out his clothing and is oblivious to a small paperlike object falling to the floor.
He finishes getting dressed on camera, even presenting the women in the audience with a flash of his bare cheeks. Once finished it is then that he notices the object on the floor and picks it up. He flipped it over and could not understand the meaning of the black card. It had no significant writing on it, just a logo of some sort.
“Hey man, you ready yet” yelled out a voice as the lockerroom door opened. The superstar pocketed the black card and shoved his dufflebag back in the locker, shutting the door behind him. The camera faded as he walked out to his friend.
Gyle
Versus
High Flyer
World Heavyweight Championship Match
Narrator: He managed to overcome Napoli’s Gauntlet, and become the World Champion by pinning Shawn Jessica Hart at Twilight. Even the weeks past High Flyer defended his championship against all comers and whatever Napoli tossed his way. From Max Hopper, The Executioner, Spike Saunders, Sam Potright to Torment, Andrew Martin, and Gyle. The list goes on. One has to wonder who else Xander can hope to count on dismantling the champion.
Returning from commercial break, Gyle the Messiah was not allowed an entrance, having already entered the ring.
Quickly, “Violent Pornography” by System of a Down rings out over the nbW pa system, and the fans go histatic. High Flyer races out from the backstage area, World Championship wrapped around his waist. He slides in underneath the bottom rope, unbuckling the strap as he enters. Mary-Lynn and Tony Davis appear to be nowhere to be found.
Flyer rises to his feet, disregarding the boots to his back from Messiah as he enters. Once to his feet, Flyer begins to fire back with rights and lefts, Gyle returning each blow in turn. Gyle shoved Flyer into the ropes and shot him off. Returning, Flyer ducked underneath a clothesline. Off the other side, Flyer leapt onto the second rope, turned and twisted, spinning wheel kicking Gyle’s head clean off. A loud pop resounded out of the arena.
Gyle bit his lower lip in pain as he rose to his feet. Flyer locked in a side headlock, not giving the Messiah any time. A few blows from the Messiah on Flyer’s midsection breaks the hold, and Gyle drops the champion with a snap suplex. Quickly, he rolls over, holding Flyer strong in that side headlock, and then drives him face first into the canvas with a ddt.
1…
Flyer tossed a shoulder at one. Gyle began to yell at the official to pick up the pace. As Gyle lifted Flyer to his feet, Flyer low blowed him, only to be admonished by the referee. With Gyle in a compromising situation, Flyer double underhooked him, and lifted him skyward.
Hypothermia. Quite early. Gyle bounces off the canvas, and clutches his skull.
Flyer rushed off the ropes and dropped a leg across his throat. Again, and Gyle’s legs kick up from the impact. Flyer lifted Gyle to his feet, and Gyle reversed the irish whip. Off the other side and Gyle back body drops the Lunatic clear up and over the top rope, crashing him on the outside.
As Flyer recovers, shaking out the cobwebs, Gyle the Messiah races off the ropes and charges, leaping through the middle ropes. Flyer sidesteps, and Gyle slams face first into the steel barricade to a resounding chorus of cheers.
Flyer lifted the bloody Gyle to his feet and slid him inside. As Gyle stumbled around to his feet, disorientated and losing blood quickly, Flyer slid in. Measuring him up, Gyle swung wildly, missing completely. Then, the Lunatic charged forward.
Locomotive.
Knocking Gyle clean out of his boots. Flyer cradled directly on top of him immediately, hooking the legs and the tights for good measure.
1…
2…
3!
And while High Flyer may have survived tonight as champion, this would not be the last time Xander Napoli would try to take away his championship.
Winner and Still Champion, High Flyer!
Easy, Easy Cockbag
After weeks of battling, after putting up with all of Xander Napoli’s constant nonsense, and even after having to defend his championship tonight, he had done it. Add another World Championship to the credibility of High Flyer. “Violent Pornography” echoed throughout the arena once again.
No matter what Napoli, or anyone else for that matter, could do, The Lunatic was about to raise the No Brand Wrestling World Heavyweight Championship high.
“Cut this shit off right fuckin’ now!” A voice was heard screaming beyond the sounds of the music. It was familiar, no questions about it. It certainly wasn’t Gyle the Messiah’s voice. It was WAY too raspy to be Napoli’s.
It was definitely familiar, though.
System of a Down’s epic seized from its former echoes and was eventually toned to nonexistence.
“I can’t let this fuckin’ bullshit slide anymore!” It called out once more.
Flyer stayed in the ring, confused, searching for the source of this mysteriously familiar voice. Once he turned camera right, he saw exactly where it had been made audible. It wasn’t too long afterwards the monkeys in the production truck (thank you, Chris Jericho~!) caught on to this and revealed to the world, exactly who had defied High Flyer’s moment to shine.
It was your favorite and mine. You know, the guy nbW turns to when they’re almost completely out of ideas, or something.
That’s right.
Uncensored.
As it turns out, the foul mouthed S.O.B. hopped over the railing and knocked out ring announcer, Brent Williams, just prior to the conclusion of the match. Now, he was standing beside poor Williams’ prone body with a microphone in one hand and the nbW World Heavyweight Championship in another.
When the cameras seemed focused on everyone’s favorite nbW legend (or so he’d like you to think), he was looking back in the ring staring at the new champion.
“Just who the hell are you?” Uncensored said in the microphone. “I know, I know. You’re supposed to be some ‘big deal,’ because you were champion at that one place. But who the fuck are you? This is nbW. NO BRAND WRESTLING.” Uncensored raised High Flyer’s championship, which he got when beating down the ring announcer. “This is the place that I built. All I see in the ring is some fucking douche bagel in fag’s clothing.”
Obviously somewhat offended by the remark, High Flyer stormed around the ring, stomping his feet in anger.
“Easy, easy, cockbag.” Uncensored said, potentially fearing for his well-being. “You’re no fucking champion.” Uncensored began to ascend the steel steps. The official held High Flyer back a bit to allow the artist formerly known as William Banks to make his entry, which happened soon thereafter. “Is this really what Napoli has to resort to? Bringing in guys that wanted to kill me, twice, wasn’t enough for his never-ending quest for ratings? Now, all he can do is try to ‘put over’ some guy who had his last good match six years ago?”
Uncensored surely had to be sealing his coffin now. He approached Flyer, but surely within the limits of both of their comfort zones.
“The way I see it is like this, I am still nbW’s World Heavyweight Champion. No one beat me. I know for a fuckin’ fact you couldn’t beat me, not even if Doc Brown pulled up and took you back to those yesteryears when ‘High Flyer’ and ‘good match’ could work well together in a sentence.”
Needless to say, High Flyer was visibly upset – more so than he normally would show, anyways. Uncensored had his trademark smirk on his face, basking in his own little enjoyment.
“Look. I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. And I’ll take full responsibility for that. My name is Uncensored. Without a doubt, I am nbW’s World Heavyweight Champion. If you want this gold, you’ll have to go through me. Right here. Right now. Or never. Unlike you, I’ve tangled with the emotionally unstable. I’ve whacked mob bosses. I’ve slain Dragons. I’ve fought for my life. I’ve bitched slapped adversity each and every time I stepped foot in an nbW ring. If you want this belt, there’s no turning back. You have to prove yourself to me.”
Fans gave their cheers for the potential dream match that they could be seeing.
“The other alternative is for me to hand you this belt, give you some sort of piss-ant’s ‘blessing,’ and we both go our separate ways. It’s your call.”
Uncensored laid the title on the canvas between the both of them. He dropped the microphone and threw his arms to his sides. They both mouthed some words before the referee officially asked High Flyer for his decision.
Perhaps he was seeking Uncensored’s respect.
Maybe he felt like having one more match this evening.
Or, he wanted to prove without a shadow of a doubt, he is not a douche bagel.
Whatever the case may be, he nodded.
The bell sounded.
It was happening.
Right here.
Right now.
Uncensored
Versus
High Flyer
World Heavyweight Championship Match
Narrator: Uncensored was last seen at nbW’s Legacy pay per view where he won the four way match against Jason Kain, Malik Roland, and the Champion then, RaVage. Uncensored however dropped the title that same night and smacked it into Xander Napoli’s face. The championship was then vacated until High Flyer achieved it at Twilight. And now he has returned, never having been beating for the championship, and as some would argue, the true number one contender. Can Napoli bet on him?
The referee picked up the World Championship and handed it off to a ring technician to place at the timekeeper’s table. Uncensored removed his wifebeater tank top and threw it to the side. The combatants inched nearer to one another. Uncensored still had his smirk. High Flyer was still visibly upset. Surely, Flyer’s temper was to get elevated another notch.
Uncensored placed the bird about a centimeter away from his face.
It was just then; the bell had rung the typical three times as it had for all of the other matches preceding. Flyer immediately took what may have been a cheap shot. He raked Uncensored’s eyes. Stumbling a bit backward following the illegal maneuver, Uncensored seemed to already be regretting what he had said.
The official warned Flyer not to use such a hold again. This wasn’t any sort of firm warning, however. During all of this, Uncensored turned himself around and rubbed his eyes, trying to get some sort of vision back. Flyer capitalized on this opportunity as well, leaping from his feet, wrapping an arm around Uncensored’s neck and pulling him down with a neckbreaker.
Wasting no time at all, High Flyer tried for the lateral press.
ONE!
Uncensored instantaneously kicked out after the referee’s hand met the canvas for the first time.
Both wrestlers seemed to be on their feet within a split second of the pinfall. They locked up in the collar-elbow fashion. Uncensored pulled Flyer’s arm, bringing him down with an arm drag. He fell atop of the lunatic’s sitting body and followed with a quick sleeper hold.
Flyer wouldn’t let this attempt at a submission affect him. He grabbed Uncensored hands and used most of his strength to fight off the hold whilst making his way to a vertical basis. He pushed all of his weight back, forcing the pair to run backward towards the ropes. By this point, the sleeper had transformed more into a side headlock than anything else. Using the momentum, High Flyer pushed Uncensored off of him and sent him charging towards the opposing side of the ring. Once the San Diego native bounced back, Flyer left the mat once again, this time looking for a leap frog.
Uncensored, however, thought better of it. In the short amount of time he had to contemplate what was to happen, he grabbed hold of Flyer’s legs, and threw him crashing onto the canvas with a power bomb. Much like Flyer’s first high-impact maneuver, Uncensored searched for a quick victory.
ONE!
High Flyer, much like Uncensored, kicked out as soon as the first count was made.
Before allowing Flyer to return to his feet, Uncensored quickly acted on some instinct and grabbed hold of his right ankle. He turned High Flyer onto his belly and drove his knee into the back, creating an elevated single-leg crab.
The only problem with this painful situation was that Flyer was already well within an arm’s reach of the ropes. The official gave Uncensored the typical count to five. At which point, Uncensored relinquished the hold at four, but not without punching the Lunatic directly in the back of his head as he did. Admonished by the officials, Uncensored continued undisturbed, lifting the Lunatic to his feet by his snow white hair and tossing him into the corner of the ring.
Uncensored proceeded with a series of fists, dedicated to destroying and crushing Flyer’s ribs. A flurry of blows as Flyer bent over, coughing as Uncensored finished, moments from the five counts disqualification. Uncensored wasted no time, charging and driving his shoulder into the gut of the Lunatic, propelling him up and onto the top turnbuckle, seated. Uncensored met the champion at the top, and laid down a right hand to the temple, and another. But the fans would not count this ten count.
Pausing to gloat, Uncensored tossed his arms in the air in premeditated victory. Flyer caught UC with a few shots to his gut, drawing life back into this crowd. As Uncensored began to tetter on the top, Flyer gained position to his feet, and the two grappled standing precariously on the top rope.
As Uncensored began to fall, Flyer leapt off, twisting his body and slamming the heel of his boot into the face of a backward crashing Uncensored. The impact was met with the timing of Uncensored smashing into the canvas, and Flyer bounced and rolled onto his knees. The Lunatic champion clutched his ribs, breathing heavily as he strategized his next move.
Uncensored fought to his feet, as the Lunatic charged forward. Flyer leapt onto Uncensored shoulders, as UC fought and SLAMMED Flyer back down into the mat in a vicious bouncing power bomb, one that forced the Lunatic down on the back of his head.
Uncensored kept him locked in the powerbomb formation, after slamming him headfirst into the canvas, UC lifted him back up, towering skyward, and SLAMMED Flyer down once more into the canvas. A third time he was lifted, and this time, he was rushed toward the ring ropes, and TOSSED clear out of the ring.
Flyer landed with a thud on the outside. And that’s when things started to get complicated.
Gyle the Messiah remained at ringside, having not been escorted due to orders of one Xander Napoli. Uncensored tried to exit the ring to continue his onslaught, only to be blocked by the official, which means he was distracted. Gyle grabbed a steel chair lying around, and SMASHED it into the recovery face of the Lunatic. He growled fiercly, rubbing the blood from his own open headwound onto the chair, before slamming it down for a second time on the cranium of the Lunatic. Moments later, Gyle tossed Lunatic in under the bottom rope, the official none the wiser.
Uncensored eyed up his prize, and began to stomp his feet on the canvas. The fans began to boo the former champion, as he lined the Lunatic up.
VERBAL ASSAULT!
BUT FLYER NAILED THE LOCOMOTIVE AT THE EXACT SAME TIME!
Both men tumble like a ton of bricks, slamming back first on the canvas. The official looked around, tossing his arms in the air as he began a ten count.
One that would reach all the way to ten.
As the bell rang out over the nbW speakers, the fans rose to their feet booing. High Flyer may still be champion, but he couldn’t get the job done against Uncenored…
Match Ruled No Contest, Still Champion, High Flyer!
HOLD IT!
And now, he rests prone, back first on the mat, bleeding from the forehead profusely.
“HOLD IT! KEEP MY SHOW GOING!” Now THAT, was the familiar voice of our boss and CEO, Xander Napoli. He stormed out from the backstage, Torment accompanied by his side. He quickly made his way to the ring, and as he slid in, neither Uncensored nor High Flyer had moved very much.
Torment stepped in over the top rope, and looked down at the fallen Lunatic. As Flyer fought to his feet, Torment was there to wrap his huge bear like claw around his throat. In one fluid motion, Torment lifted the Lunatic and SLAMMED him head first into the canvas in a vicious chokeslam.
Xander Napoli smiled, and looked over to the official. He nodded, in a “You know what to do” sort of fashion. That’s when the bell rang three times.
Xander Napoli
Versus
High Flyer
World Heavyweight Championship Match
Narrator: … I guess when you want the job done, you do it yourself. At least that is the direction the boss is taking tonight.
And Xander Napoli calmly placed his foot onto the chest of the Neighborhood Lunatic.
The fans rose to their feet, a swell of cries of anger and frustration flood over this crowd as Xander Napoli stood over top of their world champion.
One.
Two.
… Three?!?
Quickly, the bell rings three more times after that. Xander looked down to the fallen Uncensored and smiled, half thanking him as he slid out of the ring. Torment was right by his side, making sure no harm would come to the nbW CEO. And as Xander Napoli reached out to the fallen time keeper, and grabbed his promotions World Championship, he gained a huge chip on his shoulder. Raising the Heavyweight Championship high, an elation over took our boss unseen until now.
Winner and NEW World Heavyweight Champion, Xander Napoli!
High Flyer was no longer his world champion.
Things could get back to normal now, no?
As Torment hoisted Xander Napoli on his shoulders, a dark revelation ominously reared its ugly head… Not since David Arquette has there been a world champion, with so little skill.
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