Bottomline

The High Octane Vision screen comes to life and a video begins to play as the crowd inside The Best Arena are finishing up getting to their seats as the show is about to officially start…..

Alcatraz Island
Cell Block B

Dim lighting hangs loosely from the catwalk above. This row of cells, we see, is completely empty. Some music, which can’t be deciphered just yet, plays from a cell toward the end of the row.

A figure, shrouded in darkness, walks the row toward the music. His face is obscured by the shadows, but the click-clacking of his heels on the floor echo.

As he approaches the end of Block B, he looks to his right, when the walls of two different cells have been blown out to make one larger cell. Looking around, he sees a flickering light and a small, consistent dripping noise from a pipe that peeks through the wall near a makeshift toilet.

“Make Your Own Kind of Music” by Cass Elliot is playing on a very old-looking record player. Above it, many newspaper clippings, all with the heading “Gainesville Sun”, are pinned to the plaster in the wall.

“Giant Hunt for Maniac Killer”

“Two Missing Girls Found Dead in Montvale”

“Man Found Strangled, Dead in Alley”

“2 Bodies Found in Apartment”

“East Side of Gainesville Locks Itself Up in Fear As Crime Soars”

Each one has something else pinned to it, too. A lock of hair on one, a small piece of bone dangling from a wire on another, a patch of what looks like pajamas on another.

Finally, one more, blown up and set underneath the rest, with the caption, “Jeffrey James Roberts, Portrait of a Monster”, with a photo underneath of a man in his late 20s, shaved/buzzed hair and a five o’clock shadow. There are two small ball-shaped piercings over his right eye, two small dot tattoos to the side of his right eye, and another small fading tattoo over his left eye that says “REAPER”, along his eyebrow line. A third tattoo can be seen snaking its way around the left side of his neck but is unclear in the photo.

Looking from this wall toward the center of the large space, the man outside the cell sees a light blue mat rolled out onto the floor of the cell. Lying on his back is the man from the photo, head positioned to the back of the cell, feet near the cell door. His eyes are closed, the music plays, then skips, then the needle raises, preparing to restart the record. The man tenses up at this, squeezing one eye harder closed, lips snarling upward. The needle drops to the record and the music begins anew, and it calms him. He breathes deeply and puts his hands behind his head on the floor. The drip, drip, dripping of the water dropping drones on.

The cell bars are backed by thick plexiglass, constructed to keep any hands going in or out of the cell, with a small slot near the floor for food.

The man outside the cell places one hand on the glass and he peers inside, calling out.

“Jeffrey….”

Still lying on his back, the man shows no reaction.

“JEFFREY”

At this, the man’s hand darts up, a finger in the air as if asking to be patient. The music plays on, and he breathes deeply one more time, then with a start sits up straight sitting cross-legged and staring at the man beyond the glass.

Roberts smiles slightly.

“My favorite part.”

The man outside the cell ignores the comment.

“We need to talk.”

And begins to tap his fingers on the glass.

“I have a job for you.”

With that the video ends and the HOV once again goes dark as the crowd begins murmuring about the new signing.

After the vignette finishes airing on the HOV,  we cut live inside The Best Arena here in Chicago Illinois as the Bottomline Pay Per View officially and finally begins.

We do not cut to the Hall of Fame announcers initially, as before Joe and Benny can even welcome us to the broadcast, “Undead” hits the PA system and the HOW faithful here in Chicago stand up as one as the theme music for the GOD of HOW, Lee Best, begins playing.

The crowd, already loud, grow even louder as Lee makes his way slowly from the back and stops at the top of the entrance ramp. The crowd is buzzing as Lee is sporting his old school 97red sports jacket and all black sunglasses. The Chicago crowd breaks out in a chant for the founder of High Octane Wrestling as he just stands there and takes it all in.

“LEE”

“LEE”

“LEE”

“LEE”

Finally, and slowly, Lee makes his way down the entrance ramp and towards the ring.

Joe Hoffman: WELCOME EVERYONE TO BOTTOMLINE!!!!!!!!!!

Joe, ever the professional, bid his time before welcoming everyone to the broadcast.

Joe Hoffman: What a way to kick off the broadcast tonight live here on High Octane Television as Lee Best is making his way down to the ring to take on his Son in what has been dubbed a Bottomline match by the Best Family. As always I am joined by fellow Hall of Famer, Benny Newell, and what a way to kick off the show Benny.

Benny Newell: It is about fucking time. I was here on August 21^st. Then I showed up on the 28^th. Now I am here today and honestly if this show didn’t happen today I think I would have gone and see if Benaroo was hiring.

Joe Hoffman: Who…..ohhhhh……ya……..we hit some hiccups on the way but we are here and let’s focus on the present as Lee is climbing into the ring.

The feed cuts to the ring where Lee can be seen slowly taking off his glasses. He tosses them behind him and the fans in the front couple rows begin fighting over the glasses…..and the crowd around them begins booing those fans as during the chaos to secure the glasses they broke in half.

Benny Newell: Good ol wrestling fans. That is why we cannot have nice things Joe.

Before Joe can say anything else the arena goes pitch black. A single spotlight suddenly appears inside the ring and when it does we see none other than the SON of the GOD of HOW standing.

The crowd loses their ever-loving mind as they see HOW Hall of Famer Michael Lee Best back inside the middle of a ring here in Chicago.

There is no need for Joe or Benny to say anything as the arena remains pitch black minus the spotlight showcasing the SON.

The Chicago faithful now begin a chant for the SON and Michael stands unmoving in the ring as the crowd takes over the broadcast.

“WELCOME BACK”

“WELCOME BACK”

“WELCOME BACK”

“WELCOME BACK”

The arena lights slowly come back on and as they do we see High Octane Wrestling Hall of Fame referee Matt Boettcher has slid into the ring and is standing in the far corner of the ring…far as possible away from The Best Family.

Joe Hoffman: What a scene Benny. What a scene. It has been a LONG time since we have seen Michael inside a ring.

Benny Newell: That is right where he belongs Joe. Fuck that octagon shit. No one was ever going to beat him in that fucking setting. In that ring is where he became a Hall of Famer. In that ring is where he became a legend. In that fucking ring is where he became a Best.

Joe Hoffman: Amen Benny. Amen.

The crowd has stopped chanting and now are just literally standing as one as we see Boettcher slowly walk to the middle of the ring and he motions towards both Lee and Mike and asks the Best Family if they are ready.

Both the Father and the Son nod that they are indeed ready.

Boettcher signals for the bell and the first match of the night is officially underway!

Lee slowly begins rolling up his sleeves of his infamous 97red jacket and as he does he never takes his eyes off his Son.

Benny Newell: Are we going with the idea that Lee can see……right?

Joe Hoffman: Honestly I have no darn clue. I feel like every time I know if he can or not he does something to mess me up. Right now though……he has to be able to see? I mean he is out here alone against his Son who is a Hall of Fame Wrestler. Right??

Benny can only shake his head as he has no clue what is about to happen.

Benny Newell: If this is a legit match….Mike wins. I mean we ALL know Mike is going to win whatever the hell this is………but I still have no fucking clue what the hell THIS IS!!!????

Joe Hoffman: Amen Benny…..Amen.

Back in the ring, Lee has finished rolling up his sleeves, and he begins walking towards the center of the ring.

Mike….he still has yet to blink….let alone move.

Lee reaches the center of the ring and stares intently at his Son. He slowly taps the watch on his left wrist and mouths the words “It’s Time”.

Mike’s famous, and often copied, smirk comes across his face as he takes a couple steps backwards.

Joe Hoffman: WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN……I AM NERVOUS!!!!

The tension in The Best Arena is palpable as EVERYONE knows what the outcome should be but NO ONE knows how we are going to get there.

Suddenly Lee drops to his knees in the middle of the ring and raises his arms up to his side as he tilts his head up towards the heavens.

Mike rushes forward……….and with every fiber of his being……….he leaps forward and drives his right knee into the head of his Father.

The crowd gasps as Lee’s neck violently snaps backwards as he falls backwards to the canvas with his legs bending awkwardly underneath him.

As loud as The Best Arena was a few minutes ago……it is deafening quiet now.

The camera pans to Mike who is standing in the corner, his back to his Father, with his head down as he looks down at the turnbuckle with an almost look of anguish on his face.

The Hall of Famer slowly turns and walks over to his Father and bends down. He carefully straightens out his Fathers body and crosses Lee’s arms on his chest as he nods at Boettcher to end it.

Stunned, Boettcher drops down and begins the count.

1….

2….

The only sound heard in the arena is the sound of Boettcher’s hand hitting the canvas…

3.

Boettcher, shaking his head as he stands up, signals for the bell.

Bryan McVay: Um…….Winner……..um…..Winner of the match….Mike Best. Jesus Christ.

McVay drops the mic and sits down as he joins everyone in shock as they look at the scene inside the ring.

HOW Medics rush from the back as the arena remains silent as we see Mike standing over Lee.

Joe Hoffman: We all knew Lee was never going to win this match…….but…..I did not expect …..I mean he is ok right?

For once Benny is silent as his hand is visibly shaking as he is unable to even pick up his glass.

Joe Hoffman: Folks we will be right back. I understand we have some vignettes tonight to showcase our next Pay Per View…..Rumble at the Rock….and we are going to pivot to one now.

The action cuts to the RATR21 vignette but not before we see a final image of Mike watching the HOW medics loading his father onto the gurney.

The scene fades in on an aerial view of Alcatraz.

“GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!”

The sound of Steve Solex shouting from behind the prison bars is hear as the scene cuts to a shot inside of the prison; a quasi-closeup of Steve Solex. Solex has two gate bars gripped firmly in his hands. He uses them to pull his face forward against the bars, pushing the center part of his face through. The manic look on his face is coupled with weeks of unshaveness and what’s sure to be the worst breath this side of the Nevada border.

“YOU FUCKIN’ PRICK! WE NEED OUT! WE CAN’T TAKE IT IN HERE ANY LONGER!”

Solex’s shouts echo off the abandoned prison walls. He’s shouting at the one appointed Warden. He’s shouting manically at The 4th Wahl. The behemoth of a man is shown standing directly across from Solex’s cell. He stands still, his arms folded across his chest, just staring at Solex with a blank, yet determined look.

“HE IS COMING! RIGHT NOW WE ARE THREE! SOON HE WILL ARRIVE, AND WE WILL BE FOUR! WE WILL BE COMPLETE!”

Solex screams at the top of his lungs, his voice raspy and clearly strained.

“WE ARE SOLEX!”

He trashes his head from side to side.

“WE ARE KUTTER!”

“WE ARE TYLER!”

“AND SOON, WE WILL BE COMPLETE!”

The 4th Wahl just stands still, doing exactly as he was instructed to do by Lee Best. Solex begins to frantically pace around his cell. Pulling at his hair and stomping like a pissed off toddler. He stops in the middle of the cell and lets out a murderous, primal scream. The 4th Wall breaks character a bit, and smirks before checking his watch. Solex bolts back to the prison bars and shoves his face between two of them, taking up his previous position.

“YOU’RE TIME! H-O-W’S TIME! IT’S RUNNING OUT! YOU KEEP CHECKING THAT WATCH, YOU GIANT FUCK!”

The camera appears to glitch and cut right to a close up of Solex’s face.

“He’s coming.”

The camera glitches out to black.

We cut back live inside The Best Arena where the crowd is still buzzing over The Best Family Bottomline match and we cut over to Bryan McVay, who has finally regained his own composure, to introduce the wrestlers for our next match of the evening.

Bryan McVay: This match is for one fall. Introducing first, from Long Beach, California, weighing two-hundred-thirty pounds… he is XANDER AZULA!

The whistling intro of “Engel” plays over the PA system, setting the crowd into a mixed reaction as Legion and his Eternal Circle disciples step out onto the stage, surveying the crowd with a sense of focus.

Benny Newell: Since when do cults come out of Long Beach, Cali?

Azula leaves his disciples and makes his way down the ramp.

Joe Hoffman: A rough go for Xander Azula a few weeks ago, beaten at the hands of Jatt Starr and clearly looking for revenge.

Azula enters the ring as he waits.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from Havre, Montana, weighing two-hundred-twenty pounds… JATT STARRRRR!

Benny Newell: Here we go, Joe. Match over in five minutes or less or your money back!

The lights go out and one by one yellow spotlights illuminate the ramp from the ring to the curtain. “Everybody Wants You” by Billy Squier blares across the arena and emerging from the curtain is Jatt Starr, sporting his red and black plaid suit (no dress shirt). He doesn’t walk down the ramp as much as he struts down, flanked by the Wabid Wabbit and Anton the Fourth. Jatt Starr removes his suit jacket and carefully folds it before handing it to the Wabid Wabbit. The ring becomes illuminated in yellow light. Starr walks up the ring steps to the apron where Anton opens the top and middle ropes and the Ruler of Jattlantis enters. The Sultan of SeaJattle stands in the middle of the ring, all of the other lights go out save for one yellow spotlight in the middle of the ring where he stands, soaking in the cheers and jeers from the audience. The spotlight fades, the house lights come up and Jatt Starr heads towards the corner and leans nonchalantly on the turnbuckle waiting for the match to begin.

Joe Hoffman: Jatt’s looking for some redemption himself, albeit of a different nature. Coming off that War Games injury, he looks primed and focused to get back into the spotlight.

Benny Newell: And a MAJOR spotlight to be shown when he wastes Xander in five seconds!

Joe Hoffman: I thought you said five minutes?

Benny Newell: I said DRINK!

Referee Matt Boettcher calls for the bell.

DING DING

Azula charges towards Jatt but Jatt ducks and Azula goes off the next set of ropes. Immediately, Wabid Wabbit hops (pun intended) onto the apron and pulls the top rope down. Azula falls out and crashes to the floor. Boettcher didn’t see it because Anton was a distraction.

Joe Hoffman: Games already? C’mon!

Azula dusts himself off and sees Wabbit skipping away to the other side of the ring. He looks up right in time to see Jatt on the apron, about to punt Azula in the head but instead The Sultan of SeaJattle tosses his arms in the air and enters the ring while whistling, as if to say he was up to nothing… nothing at all.

The Eternal Circle leader groans and slides in himself. He races towards Jatt but this time the High Octane Hall of Famer simply drops to a knee and rolls out of the squared circle to a chorus of boos.

Joe Hoffman: I have a feeling it’s going to take a while before Xander Azula can get his hands on the “almighty” Jatt.

Benny Newell: Smart fucking work here, Joe. Jatt’s been in Xander’s head for a while. Left him laying backstage a few weeks ago. You know Xander wants to come in hot, particularly after rabbit took him out a second ago but this time Jatt bailed!

While Hoffman’s amazed Benny actually made sense, the Jattlander continues to stroll around the ring, looking to get back in but when he realizes Azula is there to pounce, the former Tag Team Champion crawls away from the apron.

Until it’s too late.

Azula hits the ropes on the far end and flies out of the ring, in-between the top and middle rope, catching Jatt with a shoulder block! While Wabid Wabbit and Anton the Fourth were around Jatt, they fled the second Azula ran their way.

Joe Hoffman: There’s something you don’t see from Xander very often!

Benny Newell: And there’s a reason, Joe. Look at this idiot! He clearly hurt himself!

Benny’s words are true once again. Although Azula is on his feet first, he’s holding his right shoulder and smirking in pain. The Eternal Circle leader pulls Jatt to his feet before hitting him with a snap suplex and then tossing Starr into the ring. Xander pushes onto the apron as Jatt comes to. The Jattagonian Giant sees Azula is struggling so Starr hits the ropes on the other side and then launches himself through the ropes at his opponent, hoping to knock both of them off the apron.

Instead, however, Azula gets a knee up and drills it HARD into Jatt’s face! Starr stops dead in the air and bounces in-between the top and middle rope. Xander enters the ring, drags Starr back in too and drops an elbow to the side of Jatt’s temple.

Azula drops elbows wildly. There’s about five of them before referee Matt Boettcher slides into position because Azula wants a quick cover. It’s only a one before Jatt powers out but Azula rams his knees into Jatt’s back right after.

Joe Hoffman: Not a pinfall attempt to score a victory. Simply a pinfall to tire Jatt out.

Azula hurls Starr into the turnbuckle and comes bursting in. However, Jatt gets an elbow up and meets Xander in the side of the head.

Joe Hoffman: Now it’s Jatt’s turn for the offense as he bulldogs Azula to the canvas!

Jatt tries for a pinfall but Xander kicks out at one as well. With Wabid Wabbit and Anton stirring on the floor, Jatt immediately puts Azula into a sleeper hold.

Joe Hoffman: Slow down the blood, slow down the mad man that’s after some revenge.

Benny Newell: Yeah, smart move by Jatt! Let’s finish this match NOW, I’ve got some drinking to do. Drink!

Joe Hoffman: There you are, I thought you’d become a more competent announcer.

Benny Newell: That’s where you’re wrong. DRIN- hey wait a second!

Azula fights to a knee and then to a leg. He hammers elbows into Jatt’s chest and once he breaks free of the sleeper hold, Xander looks to hit the ropes.

Joe Hoffman: HEY, Anton trips Azula!

Small package by Jatt.

ONE.

TWO.

KICKOUT!

Joe Hoffman: The first real nearfall of this contest goes to Jatt!

The Jattagonian Giant locks in another sleeper on Azula.

Joe Hoffman: It’s clear Jatt is wrestling a different style of match. Azula is out for blood right now and Jatt, looking to survive. A sleeper, quick pinfall attempts. It’s a smart strategy if you think you might not get out of there all in one piece.

Once again, Azula fights to a knee and then a leg. Once again, Azula hammers elbows to break the hold. This time, however, The Eternal Circle leader knows to be cautious as he leaves for the ropes. He hops over Anton’s outstretched arm, who attempts to trip Xander up for the second time. Azula bounces off the ropes and watches his speed.

Jatt collapses to the mat, hoping to avoid whatever maneuver his opponent was gunning for but Xander Azula stops in his tracks before even getting to him.

Joe Hoffman: Azula deadlifts Starr into a high angle suplex! Impressive! From the canvas to the air. Some great strength!

With both men being of relative size to one another, Azula holds on and hits a second suplex to Jatt. Then he immediately mounts the legend and reigns a fury of punches down on Jatt’s skull.

Joe Hoffman: You can see the strategy shift. Azula came in HOT and it didn’t work. It also hurt himself. Now, he’s going to the basics. Wrestling moves, suplexes, waiting Jatt out and THEN when the Hall of Famer is grounded, hammering Starr with everything he has.

Benny Newell: Whatever.

Boettecher is at a count of four so Azula rolls to the side. The cult manipulator takes two steps back, waits to see Jatt on all fours and then hoofs him in the stomach. The Mayor of ManJattan flies into the air but lands back on all fours. Azula kicks Jatt again in the chest and the same result happens.

Again. Again.

And two more times before taking off into the ropes and looking for a viciously looking dropkick to the side of Jatt’s head.

SMA-

SWOOSH!

Joe Hoffman: Jatt rolls out of the way!

Although of a foggy mind, the former Tag Team Champion keeps smacking the side of his head as if to knock sense into it. He sees Azula pulling himself off the mat…

Joe Hoffman: Arm breaker to Xander!

Benny Newell: Great work, Jatt! The shoulder of Azula was hurt in the initial stages of the match.

Joe Hoffman: What is with you right now? One minute you’re doing your usual schtick and the next you’re providing actual color commentary!

Benny Newell: Hmph. Maybe I’ve changed, Joe.

Starr pulls at Azula’s right shoulder and looks for an arm bar submission. However, Azula is quickly into the ropes so Boettcher starts his count. Of course, Jatt only breaks it at 4.99999.

Joe Hoffman: Starr with a dropkick to the shoulder and then a second dropkick.

Azula shouts in pain as Starr lifts Xander and hurls him into the turnbuckle, tucking Xander’s left hand behind his back so his right shoulder is entirely exposed.

Azula meets the buckle with force. The ring shakes on impact and as Azula stumbles out of the corner, he turns right into a kick to the chest and a proposition for the Falling Starr finisher.

Joe Hoffman: Does Jatt have it!? He has Azula turned around…

Azula runs Starr chest-first into the same turnbuckle pads!

Joe Hoffman: No! Hold is broken!

Starr races towards Azula but he’s met with a sitdown hip toss! This is followed by Azula pummeling Starr with frequent right hands again before referee Matt Boettcher begins his five count.

Joe Hoffman: Oh! I think Jatt hit a low blow there!

Indeed, Starr does. Right as Azula stops at the count of four, Jatt kicks him square in the balls before Xander doubles over.

Joe Hoffman: Manjattan drop!

Jatt hits the ropes and connects with The Art Starr-Knee but targets Azula’s shoulder instead! The man with a million nicknames covers and hooks both legs!

ONE.

TWO.

KICKOUT!

Jatt slithers away from Xander, making sure he’s behind The Eternal Circle leader as Azula slowly gets to his feet. Jatt charges and looks for a leg block but Azula hears him coming and jumps into the air as Jatt lowers his body. Jatt almost runs himself into the turnbuckle padding but comes to a stop and points to his head with a smile, as if saying after all these years Starr’s reflexes are second to none.

Joe Hoffman: Jatt better turn around…

And he does. He sees Azula standing there, ready to strike and Jatt pulls back, raising his arms and pleading with the cult leader. The camera mic can’t pick up what Xander’s saying but it looks like the Cali native is having none of it.

Quick thumb to the eyes by Jatt as he starts to pussyfoot away for Azula.

Azula swats the air, unable to see as he shouts profusely!

Joe Hoffman: Missed call by Boettcher but I believe ANTON was on the apron again!

Benny Newell: Thumb to the eyes ain’t worth a disqualification anyway. DRINK!

Jatt smiles and knows he’s got the match in control Starr lowers his base, just in case Azula CAN see what’s in front of him before clubbing Xander in the back of the head, lifting him onto his shoulders and connecting with a Starrmageddon!

Joe Hoffman: Starr has the leg hooked!

ONE.

TWO.

SHOULDER UP. Azula’s bad shoulder.

Starr immediately looks to sink his right hand into the bad shoulder but Xander leaps to the ropes so the hold has to be broken. However, the damage may be done. Azula has a difficult time recovering before Starr walks up from behind him and hits a German suplex.

Jatt holds on.

A second German suplex.

Jatt holds on.

Joe Hoffman: Standing switch and a huge German by Azula!

But that seems to be all the shoulder could take. Azula is on a knee, huffing for air as he sees Jatt rub the side of his temple. The Eternal leader runs at Jatt until Wabid Wabbit hops onto the apron. Azula turns, sees Wabid and sends the “bunny” flying with a clothesline from hell! The fans give a pop, witnessing Wabid Wabbit spin inside-out on the apron and then meeting the padded floor below with a wallop!

Joe Hoffman: Look out!

Starr chimes in, hitting Azula with a big time bulldog! Jatt hooks the leg and puts his feet on the bottom rope.

ONE.

TWO.

Matt Boettecher sees the feet. He kicks them off and shouts at Jatt. Starr looks emotionally hurt from it, saying he didn’t know his legs were on the ropes!

Joe Hoffman: Please!

Benny Newell: No. No it’s true! Jatt didn’t know. You can see as he slides into position, those legs happen to find the bottom rope. Unavoidable!

Joe Hoffman: I take back anything positive I said about you earlier.

As Starr and Boettcher continue to argue, Anton the Fourth is in the ring.

Until Anton is hit with Azula’s Faithbreaker and ejected from sight.

Joe Hoffman: NO! Falling Starr!!

Right after Anton is tossed out of the ring, Starr pushes Boettcher aside, kicks Azula in the gut and hits the Falling Starr.

ONE.

TWO.

THREE.

DING DING DING

Starr slightly holds the back of his neck as he stands and Boettcher raises his arms.

Bryan McVay: The winner of this match… JATT STARR!

The fans boo as Starr parades around the ring. Looking outside, he sees Wabid Wabbit and Anton laid out. Jatt turns to ref Boettcher, wondering why they seem hurt.

Joe Hoffman: You know why!

Benny Newell: Maybe he doesn’t.

The scene fades as Xander Azula rolls into a corner and Starr continues to celebrate, shouting at Anton and Wabbit to join him faster.

DRIP! DRIP!

The scene opens up to pitch black. There isn’t much to see at the current time. It had appeared to be mostly dark, despite there being a small window. It only took a few moments, but it seemed that there was at least a little bit of light trying to get in enough to illuminate the room. Only the sound of water was able to give a little bit of an opportunity to find out what was going on in the room. The only thing that could be made out at the current time was a voice that, at least at the current time, appeared to be soft and faint.

“It all started with an idea and that idea would grow more emphatically and take shape. It was the very foundation of my career. Everything was clear then…now I have laid here on this uncomfortable excuse of a bed as I dwell on the clearest image in my mind. It once stood for something…like a beacon that gave me the strength to proceed forward. Now, even a few years later, that beacon is almost spent.

An idea can be one of two things to people. One, it can be the start of a very foundation point where you can build upon it. It’s called success. It grows for people and they capitalize on strengthening that very foundation. However, that leads to the second one. Two, you can create this idea, but sometimes this idea is twisted and doesn’t properly support the foundation it is founded on. Interestingly enough, this mans foundation was completely destroyed…but that doesn’t mean the idea which founded this very foundation was completely wiped away.

I’ve been told I’m a basket case. I’ve been told I’m a one hit wonder. I’ve also been told I’m not capable of changing. Perhaps some of the pundits were correct. However, that’s not what we’re debating here today. We’re debating what has already happened and what will happen in the coming days.

The man sighs as he continues to stay mounted on the edge of the bed. Interestingly enough, we get a little bit more of a glance at where this setting is taking place. Blood can be stained on one of the walls in the room but there’s no indication how or why it is there. The stain suggests that it’s been there for quite a while, however. The man looks down as he folds his hands in his lap, taking a little bit of a breathe.

Ideas sure are a wondrous thing, aren’t they? They are the very concept of how our world was created. God is no exception. He created the world in six days and rested on the seventh. Seven…intriguing number, isn’t it? Anyways, God created the world but even before, it was an idea and before long, a foundation was created. Hence what we have today. Perhaps that’s why I’m here today. Maybe it’s a punishment…a testament of what happened when I let my idea grow too much. Yet I sit here…alone…contemplating, whether or not if my actions are horrifying or justified. I guess that’s for me to think about, perhaps.

The man shakes his head, slightly, before taking very careful, but very coordinated breaths as he continues to think. The way he’s postured, it isn’t giving any indication if he feels guilt or what.

I have to ask myself why am I here? It’s like waking up from a dream but then realizing it isn’t a dream or not. It’s almost like I have nothing but time in this place. Perhaps that’s the only thing I really need. My life is constantly moving so it doesn’t really give me a whole lot of time to really contemplate things in perspective. However, here contemplation is nothing but. So what is it exactly that I’m guilty of you ask? Money used to be a hard thing to grasp in my youth. Yet when I became a young man, I had so much of it pouring in, that I didn’t almost know what to do with it.

Now it looks like I have been given a choice…a choice in which I can decide what direction I want to go. Sometimes the images in my mind are hard to bear when I’ve had the resources to make the ultimate choices. Sometimes those choices were moral ones, but I’ve always been able to justify my actions behind those choices. So I sit here in this desolate, yet punishing place wondering what direction I need to go here. I guess you could say I’m between a..rock…and a hard place. I’ve got nothing but time right now to really think it all out in my head. The point I’m making here is that everything always starts with an idea…and maybe it’s just about time I start thinking weighing out the moral consequences of my actions. One thing is for certain here, though, and that there’s definitely a reason I’m here right now. A lot of my guilt of a plea has everything to do with why I’m locked away in this place and let’s just say it’s only a matter of time before it is released out into the world like it was always meant to be!

No one is really sure what this man was talking about as it was very cryptic, but it’s not long before the camera pans out enough and enough light to illuminate who was in this room as a cold, but calculated smile crosses over the face of the man whose identity is now revealed….

BRIAN HOLLYWOOD!

I guess we’ll see you all soon…and I do mean soon!

Hollywood smiles as the camera begins to pan all the way out as we see just exactly where Hollywood is at as the place is revealed slowly before the scene fades to black as Hollywood grips the cold steel tightly staring off into the distance with only one word firmly being displayed.

ALCATRAZ.

As we come back from another RATR vignette, we see the Hall of Fame duo ready to call the next match up.

Joe Hoffman: Welcome back ladies and gentlemen to the next match up between High Flyer and…..

Benny Newell: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Joe Hoffman: That’s right Benny, and this rivalry has gotten personal in a very short amount of time and these two can’t wait to tear each other apart.

Benny Newell: Good. We can finally get rid of Silent Witness’ shelter buddy.

Joe Hoffman: Will you stop.

The lights in the Best Arena go dark before white noise hits the HOV and the image comes into focus of a bus speeding out of control. As we cut inside, the labored breathing of the bus driver takes over, as panic sets in.

Bus Driver: I can’t stop! DID YOU CUT THE BRAKE LINES?!?!

The sound of the wheels on the bus is heard be whistled from the background as High Flyer comes into view and he stops whistling to simply laughs

High Flyer: Yeah.

Bus Driver: We’re gonna die!

High Flyer: With that attitude, yeah-

The sound of screeching tires is heard as the bus smashes into a tree. One of the spokes of the wheels spins, creaks with each rotation. After a moment, there’s a lurch, and the back door swings open.

“All Aboard! AH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA…”

A light fog rises up from the entrance way as the opening guitar rift of Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne kicks in. Parting the smoke is High Flyer, who stands confidently at the top of the entrance ramp.

Bryan McVay: introducing first, from Bethlehem, PA, weighing in at 220 pounds……he is…….THE GOD OF HIGH FLYING! THE GOD OF THE FRIENDLY SKIES! HIGH! FLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYER!

He tosses one hand up in a devil horn taunt, and smiles slyly to the camera.

Benny Newell: What the fuck kind of blasphemy is this Hoffman?!?!?!?

Joe Hoffman: No idea Benny.

He stomps his way to the ring, paying very little attention to the crowd. Once he reaches ringside, he slips in under the bottom rope, then sprawls on his back.

Benny Newell: This false God is going to get sent back to Hades because the only Gods in HOW is GOD, the Sons of GOD, and RAAAAAAAAH!

He begins to make snow angels while residing on his back, looking up at the lights before recovering to his feet.

Benny Newell: Prepare to die you crazy fuck! DRINK!

High Flyer leaps onto the second ropes and looks out to the crowd while awaiting his opponent as over the loudspeaker we hear an acoustic guitar, a slide guitar, and a meaty rhythm guitar.

Jimmy Buffett’s voice then comes out over the speakers.

Work, work, work
A big pile of it and the boss is a jerk
I just want to disappear
Wishin’ I was somewhere other than here

The lights turn off and a small spotlight illuminates the ramp where a group of former Arizona State sorority sisters come out all dressed up in Hawaiian flowery dresses, Hawaiian leis, and head gear, and some even sport pirate patches in one eye and a stuffed toy parrot on their shoulder. The girls dance to the music with boat drinks of all kinds, having a grand ol’ time taking selfies of themselves with their cell phones.

Crowd: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Benny Newell: RAAAAAAAAAH!

Livin’ for the weekend
Jumpin’ off the deep end
With just enough money to buy
A license to chill- and I believe I will

Then Barbie-Q comes out wearing a multi-colored bikini with a sash that has ‘Barbie-Q’ written out on it. She’s got a Hawaiian lei on as well and sports a Mai Tai drink in her hand. Barbie rolls her eyes at the antics of the ex-ASU sorority sisters but then joins them in dancing on the stage.

Crowd: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Benny Newell: RAAAAAAAAAH!

Let the rat race run, roll around in the sun until
Trouble turns funny, songs get sung
A little bit of money, the night’s still young
Leave me alone, I’ve got a license…
License to chill.

Sunny O’Callahan comes out next. Not dressed festively, she walks out with her arms folded and walks right down the ramp to the ring as the instrumental break to the Jimmy Buffett song, aptly named ‘License to Chill’ plays on.

Joe Hoffman: We heard it on Refueled and on HOWrestling.com, if Rah loses to High Flyer then Sunny O’Callahan is free to leave the Rah-Tourage.

Benny Newell: Who the fuck would want to leave RAAAAAAAAAAAH!?!?!?!?

Joe Hoffman: However, if Rah is to defeat High Flyer tonight, then Sunny has to issue a public apology to Rah on the next Refueled.

Benny Newell: She better be on her knees where she belongs and be servicing him anyway her deity commands!

The crowd gets on their feet, four large, hulking men carry out four large palm trees with a giant hammock tied to each tree. Inside the hammock is a six foot eight inch, two hundred and eighty pound man dressed in a Hawaiian print shirt and a pair of Bermuda shorts sipping a margarita from a large glass..

Bryan McVay: Ladies and gentlemen. From sunny Southern California. The reason the Earth doesn‘t float away in the vastness of space…the reason it’s eighty degrees outside and not minus four hundred and fifty-nine point six seven…and the reason Brian Wilson AND Jimmy Buffett wrote all those great songs…ladies and gentlemen… the Sunshine God…… RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Crowd: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Benny Newell: RAAAAAAAAAH!

With O’Callahan sulking already at ringside, Barbie-Q leads the sorority sisters and the rest of the procession down to the ring steps where it stops and Rah climbs out of the hammock. He takes in the acclamation from the crowd and finishes off the margarita in his hand. After he shakes his head and his eyes clear, Rah climbs into the ring.

Hortega signals for the bell.

Ding. Ding.

Joe Hoffman: And here we go……

Rah and Flyer come out of their respective corners and the two begin trash talk one another and Harmen shoves the big man.

Joe Hoffman: Harmen shoving the bigger Rah.

Rah uses his power to shove the smaller Flyer to the canvas.

Benny Newell: RAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Rah approaches Flyer, but Harmen back pedals and rolls out of the ring as the crowd in the Windy City begin to boo.

Joe Hoffman: Jack Harmen doesn’t want a piece of the Sunshine God.

Benny Newell: Do you blame him Hoffman? He doesn’t want to have a permanent sunburn.

High Flyer: GET HIS ASS BACK!

Harmen yells at Hortega to keep Rah back from the ropes. As Harmen approaches the apron and cautiously tries to slither his way back in, Rah lunges towards the ropes and Flyer drops back to the ground.

High Flyer: I STAND GET HIS ASS BACK!

Flyer shouts and the crowd boos even louder.

Benny Newell: Get in there you pussy!

Flyer must’ve heard Benny as he gives Big Buff the one finger salute.

Benny Newell: THAT MOTHER FUCKER! HOLD MY JACK HOFFMAN! I’M GOING TO FUCK THIS FUCKER UP!

As Hoffman tries to hold Benny back from taking off his jacket, Flyer hops onto the apron and anticipates the big man lunging at the ropes again and hangs Rah out to dry as he delivers a stun gun to the top rope and whiplash causes Rah to hit the back of his head on the mat hard.

Joe Hoffman: Rah hit the mat hard and he appears dazed and confused.

Benny Newell: I may get older Hoffman, but the hookers I bang stay the same age. Alright. Alright. Alright!

Flyer measures Rah and springboards into the ring to deliver an elbow drop. Flyer immediately pops to his feet and delivers a series of elbow drops to the golden orange chest of the Sunshine God. Flyer, hits the far side ropes to build up a head of steam and as he gets closer to the downed Rah, he performs a forward somersault roll before jumping into the air and performing a front flip and landing on Rah’s chest with his back.

Joe Hoffman: The air just escaped from Rah following that Rolling Thunder!

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

No!

Rah pushes Harmen off.

Benny Newell: False gods cannot beat true Gods!

Flyer immediately goes for a choke on the Sunshine God.

Joe Hoffman: Harmen trying to choke the life from Rah.

Benny Newell: RAAAAAAAAAAH! ‘S an immortal Joe. He can’t die.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

Cuatro.

Cin…..

Harmen releases the choke before the count of cinco.

Hortega has some words, but Flyer ignores him or doesn’t understand him and kicks Rah right in the face before dropping a leg across the Sunshine God’s throat.

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

No.

Rah kicks out once again.

Joe Hoffman: Harmen is going to have to do something to wear down Rah because these short bursts of violence aren’t working.

Benny Newell: Maybe if he forfeits and denounces his falsehood as a God, Rah will have mercy on his two cent soul.

Harmen picks up Rah and goes to whip him across to the furthest corner, but Rah puts on the brakes. Harmen tugs again, but Rah doesn’t budge. Instead, the Sunshine God yanks Flyer towards him and looks for a decapitating clothesline, but Harmen channels his inner Neo and ducks underneath.

Joe Hoffman: How fluid was that Matrix by Harmen?

Benny Newell: About as awesome when I shoot my fluids on that hooker’s belly I met last night.

Joe Hoffman: Jesus Christ Benny!

Benny Newell: What?!?!?!?

Rah quickly turns around but is sent backwards into the corner from a Jack Harmen drop sault. Harmen follows the attack with a jumping knee that rocks Rah with enough momentum the Sunshine God almost falls out of the ring. Like a shark smelling blood in the water, Harmen backs up and measures Rah for the final blow.

High Flyer: CHUGA! CHUGA! CHUGA! CHUGA! CHOO-CHOO!

The crowd boos as Harmen signals he’s about to end the match.

Benny Newell: COME ON RAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Harmen makes a mad dash towards Rah and leaps to deliver his Yakuza Kick.

Joe Hoffman: Locomotive connects…….NO!

Rah sidesteps it at the last second and as Harmen is hanging on the top rope in pain thinking if he’ll have any more children, Rah grabs him and delivers a sidewalk slam.

Benny Newell: SIDE-RAAAAAAAAAAAAH! SLAM!

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

No.

Harmen pops the shoulder.

Benny Newell: Stay down you fuck!

Rah puts the boots to Harmen as the big man stomps all round the body of High Flyer.

Benny Newell: Stomp his ass into the canvas!

Rah pulls Harmen to his feet and slings him over his shoulder and drops him face first on the nearest top turnbuckle.

Joe Hoffman: Snake eyes!

Rah hits the ropes and delivers a running boot to a stunned High Flyer.

Benny Newell: How’d that taste?!?!?!?

The force from the impact sends High Flyer through the ropes and onto the floor.

Benny Newell: Finish him off!

Rah steps over the top rope and follows Harmen to the floor. Rah goes to pick up Flyer, but Harmen staggers the Sunshine God with an uppercut. As Rah staggers, Harmen sends his opponent crashing into the nearest ring post and ring steps with a dropkick.

Joe Hoffman: Metal and bone don’t mix and Rah has to be hurt!

Benny Newell: Shut your whore mouth with that blasphemous talk!

High Flyer begins to tee off on Rah with some sickening leg kicks to the Sunshine God’s chest. After about four or five kicks, Harmen delivers a spin kick to the face of Rah causing the big man to slide down into a seated position against the ring post.

High Flyer: YOU WILL PUT SOME RESPECT ON MY NAME!

Harmen yells as he measures Rah before delivering a superkick, but instead of connecting with Rah’s golden face, he strikes the cold and metallic face of the ring post.

Benny Newell: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FUCK YOU!

Harmen rolls around in pain holding his leg as the crowd yells Rah’s name and the Sunshine God begins to come to life once more feeding off of the audience’s energy.

Joe Hoffman: Rah looks like he has his second wind.

Benny Newell: Second. Third. It doesn’t matter Hoffman when you’re RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Rah reaches down and picks up Harmen and rolls him into the ring. Once inside, Rah goes over to Harmen and reaches down to pick up him up, but Jack kicks him in the face stunning the Sunshine God. Harmen goes over to Rah and delivers a hard right, but it seems to have made Rah angry. Harmen punches him again, but Rah takes it like a champ and gets more angry. Harmen looks around before delivering a third right causing Rah to look direct at his opponent and start shaking.

Crowd: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! RAAAAAAAAAH!

Joe Hoffman: Rah is feeding off of this crowd here tonight.

Benny Newell: HE’S RAAAAAAAAAAAAH-ING UP! HOFFMAN! FUCKING DRINK!

Harmen goes for another punch and Rah takes it as he points at Harmen as the crowd and Benny yells…..

Crowd: RAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Benny Newell: RAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Harmen goes for another but Rah blocks it and delivers a punch of his own and keeps delivering right hands as he backs High Flyer against the ropes to whip him across the ring. As he comes back he delivers a big boot to Harmen.

Joe Hoffman: High Flyer catches that size fifteen across the face and maybe be looking to end it here.

Rah hits the ropes and leaps up high and High Flyer’s life flashes before his eyes.

Benny Newell: From Dusk till Dawn Leg Drop of Doom!

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

NO!

High Flyer kicks out at the last minute.

Benny Newell: Are you fucking kidding me?!?!?!?!?

Rah can’t believe it as he holds up three fingers but Hortega says it was dos.

Joe Hoffman: Rah was a heartbeat away from being the victor there.

Rah places his opponent between his legs and looks towards the heavens of the Best Arena with arms stretched out soaking in the praise and worship of his followers.

Crowd: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Benny Newell: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Rah looks towards the selfie-taking ex-sorority girls first who ignore Rah and continue to take selfies) Rah shakes his head as he then looks towards Sports Entertainment Barbie who is filing her nails and doesn’t acknowledge her Sunshine God.

Crowd: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Benny Newell: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Rah once again looks towards the crowd. After receiving the necessary strength from his faithful, Rah proceeds to executing his finishing move as he lifts High Flyer high into the air.

Benny Newell: EYE OF RAAAAAAAAAAH!

Joe Hoffman: Not yet Benny.

Harmen plunges his fingers into the eyes of Rah and rakes the hell out of his golden eyes.

Benny Newell: LEE DAMMIT HORTEGA! THAT WAS A DQ!

Harmen still in the powerbomb position flips backwards causing the blinded Rah to land on the middle rope.

Joe Hoffman: Harmen with a hurricanrana and Rah is in trouble.

Benny Newell: Fuck!

High Flyer builds up a head of steam as he hits the ropes and as he comes back spins in between the ropes connecting both feet to Rah.

Joe Hoffman: Tiger Feint Kick connects…….WAIT A MINUTE!

The expression on Rah’s face says that death is imminent as he slowly pulls High Flyer back into the ring and powers him towards the heavens and slams him onto the canvas causing an earthquake to be felt in the Best Arena.

Joe Hoffman: What a powerbomb!

Benny Newell: EYE OF RAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Cover.

Uno.

Dos.

Tres.

Benny Newell: YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Bryan McVay: And your winner by pinfall……RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Crowd: RAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Benny Newell: RAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

The Sunshine God looks towards Sunny O’Callahan who is having a meltdown on the outside.

Joe Hoffman: With that hard fought victory, Sunny will have to apologize to Rah on the next Refueled if she doesn’t have a stroke from the meltdown she is having.

Benny Newell: She can cause me to have a meltdown any time Hoffman.

The camera is zoomed in on a #97Red Anarchy symbol… but it is not on the chest of a HOW Hall of Famer as one would expect.  It seems to be on a black plastic mask that is only revealing two eyes burning a hole straight to hell into the camera lens.  They don’t blink, they don’t relent, they don’t show any signs of humanity… a humanity that may have never existed in them.

Slowly zooming out, it is indeed a mask, something like Jacques Plante wore.  Covering the face of a man who hasn’t been seen since War Games.  A War Games where he was stabbed in the back.  Then mauled in the face by a fucking mace.  As he starts to finally speak to the camera, something seems off with his voice.  It seems muffled… as if he can barely move his jaw.

Scottywood: Eighty-three days.  That’s how long it has been since I was stabbed in the back by Sutler and Jiles… since I was fed to some fucking peasant… or Pleasant.  The fucker isn’t even on the roster anymore to get my revenge on him, so who gives a fuck what his name was even.  Sutler Kael meanwhile won the World Title… so fuck knows Lee won’t let me sniff anywhere near him anytime soon.  As for Jiles… is it even worth destroying that checked out shitbag once again?

Running his hand along the side of the goalie mask, where his once glorious red locks of dread once were, he shakes his head, answering his own question with a “fucking no”.

Scottywood: So as I come back from the dead… back to HOW I figured I accept whatever torture Alcatraz has in store for one more shot at something… whatever the fuck it may be to prove that The Hardcore Artist isn’t finished just yet here.

Scottywood: I still have a few things I want to do… and a few names I need to settle some shit with.  Maybe some royalty I need to knock off their throne.  But more so, one more run with a title so I can prove this era of HOW hasn’t been a complete waste of my time.  That the Hardcore Artist hasn’t gone fucking soft.  Because I have plenty of anger that has built up over the past two years… and I think I got enough… HATE… to take out a few more motherfuckers on the way out of here.

Reaching over, he grabs a metal cup that is filled with beer from the nearby tap line in his cell.  He raises it to his mask and gingerly takes a drink, being able to open his jaw just enough for that sweet, sweet liquid.

Scottywood: So as I sit here, waiting for Rumble at the Rock, the HATE building, I’ll continue to drink away the sorrows of the past two years, this past era, my whole career and life.  Waiting for those doors to be unlocked and for me to unleash on HOW, one last time, the fucking anarchy that only The Hardcore Artist can.

Bryan McVay stands in the middle of the ring.

Bryan McVay: Ladies and gentlemen.  This match is one fall and it is for the HOTv Title! 

McVay pauses as the crowd lets out a roar when “Happy Song” by Bring Me The Horizon blasts over the PA System. 

 Joe Hoffman: And here we go, it’s time for the HOTv Title match!  

Darin Zion, who is wearing a black leather jacket, comes down to the ring accompanied by Meredith. 

Bryan McVay:  Introducing the first opponent:  from Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri; weighing in at 220 Pounds; please welcome DAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRIN ZIIIIIIION. 

As Zion heads down the ramp he slaps hands with the fans.  Zion climbs the turnbuckle and sticks his hands out as we reach the chorus of the song.  He flips off the turnbuckle pad and hands the referee his jacket.    Zion shakes his head, mentally preparing for his upcoming match.

Then the lights in the arena dim as the HOV begins to light up. 

The words “The King has Returned.” echo throughout the building. 

The crowd stands on its feet as smoke begins to build on stage and the sound of “Kingdom” by Jaxson Gamble blares over the public address system.  

A spotlight shines on stage. The crowd gives a mixed reaction as through the smoke appears Jace Parker Davidson along with Madison by his side.

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, representing the Best Alliance. From Miami, FL and weighing in at 253 lbs…representing the BEST ALLIANCE!   He is the REIGNING! AND DEFENDING! HOTV CHAMPION……THE KING OF EVERYTHING! JACE! PARKER! DAAAAAAAAVIIIIIIDSOOOOOOOOON!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Jace looks out at the crowd and soaks in the reception before locking arms with Madison and making his way down the ramp slowly as fans reach over the barricade trying to touch the HOTv champion.

Joe Hoffman: Madison is back and accompanies the HOTv champion to the ring.

Benny Newell: Jace Parker Davidson is a gracious King and allowed Madison to return after realizing the errors of her way.

Madison takes her place at ringside by Benny as Jace slides under the bottom rope to enter the ring and pops to his feet.  He makes his way over to the nearest corner and climbs the turnbuckle to pose for the crowd- holding up the HOTv title belt.  Hopping down Jace goes to his corner and begins to stretch before the match starts.

The crowd starts up a “#RallyZion” chant.  Madison turns to the fans and gives them a thumbs down. 

Madison: You show the King some respect!  

#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)
#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)

Referee Joel Hortega takes the belt from JPD and holds it up in the air.  

Joe Hoffman: Two weeks ago, Jace Parker Davidson stomped Zion’s head into the concrete before… well… we’re not going to get into what happened next.

Benny Newell: No we’re not Hoffhole.  All the sheepies need to know is this: the King is here…  the King is going to destroy Darin Zion… the King is going to make Darin Zion bend the knee tonight… and the King will continue to be the most dominant HOTv champion ever.

Joe Hoffman: It’s always a mistake to underestimate Darin Zion.  Jace Parker Davidson make that mistake a few weeks back in a handicap match and Zion stunned everyone by pinning him for the win. 

Benny Newell: That was then.  Now, JPD’s back and he’s his old dominant self once again. 

#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)
#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)

Benny Newell: I’m going to need more of this…

Benny holds up his bottle of Jack Daniels.

Benny Newell: …because that fucking chant going to get fucking old really quick.  DRINK!

Ignoring the crowd chants, JPD stretches his arm and rolls his neck.  Zion bounces back and forth and tries to feed off the crowd’s energy.  Meredith gets on the ring apron and fires the fans up.  

The crowd’s on their feet and ready and so is referee Matt Boettcher.  He calls for the bell and both men step forward. 

Joe Hoffman: And we are underway!

Lock up.  Zion catches JPD a little off balance and pushes him to the corner.  Boettcher calls for a break.  Davidson raises his hands.  

Benny Newell: Come on Jace!  Don’t let Zion get the idea that he can win this!

Zion backs up.  

Joe Hoffman: And a clean break there.

Benny Newell: Again, Jace is a most gracious King of Everything. 

Meredith shouts up a couple words of encouragement to Zion.  Then she gets on the ring apron and whips up the fans again.  The #RallyZion chant start up and fill the Best Arena.

#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)
#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)

Madison covers her ears.  She turns to the fans.  

Madison: SHUT UP!  

#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)
#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)

Lock up.  Both men do-si-do each other in the middle of the ring and the two end up again tangled in the ring ropes.  Boettcher again calls for the break.  Again, Davidson raises his hands.  Again, Zion back up.  This time, Jace sneaks in a right hand on the break. 

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Joe Hoffman: And a not-so-clean break. 

Madison claps her hands.

Benny Newell: I said Jace is a gracious King but he’s not a stupid King.  

Lock up.  Side headlock by JPD.  Extra squeeze to add pressure.  Zion drops to a knee.  Jace switches sides.  He takes Zion’s arm and moves behind for an arm wringer.   Zion slips out and takes a headlock.  JPD drops to a knee and pries Zion’s arm up and slaps on another headlock.  Zion moves to the ropes and sends Davidson across the ring.  JPD shoulder blocks Zion to the mat.  Now Davidson runs the ropes.  Zion drops to the mat.  Jace hops over and goes on.  He ducks under on the return and hits the other side again.  Zion- hiptoss.  Blocked.  Zion unloads the Ban Hammer.  JPD ducks under and goes for a double leg takedown.  

Joe Hoffman: Zion went for the home run early.

Benny Newell: Desperation.  Zion knows that’s his only chance here.

Davidson stomps away at Zion on the mat but Darin rolls away and gets to the ropes  

Joe Hoffman: Good back and forth action though.  Both men seem to be getting settled into the match.

Benny Newell: JPD is just toying with him.  

Zion’s rest is short lived.  JPD goes right over and whips him across the ring.  High crossbody on the return by Zion.  Davidson ducks down.  Fireman’s carry by the champion.  Zion slips out the back and pushes Jace away.  He then slides under the bottom rope to the floor and goes for a walk.  JPD climbs through the ropes and follows Zion.  Meredith warns him JPD’s right behind him and Zion rolls right back into the ring.  Jace follows.  Zion hits a double ax handle as Davidson rolls back in and lays in boots of his own.  Zion runs the ropes.  JPD traps his arm and hip tosses him to the mat.  Armbar taken by Davidson on Zion’s right arm and he puts some torque behind it.

Jace tries to trap the left arm but Zion uses his legs to maneuver around.  He reaches for the ropes.  He just touches the bottom rope and Boettcher calls for a break.   But Jace holds on so Boettcher counts.

One…

Two…

Three.

Four…

F- finally Jace relents and releases Zion’s arm.  

JPD again takes the arm and starts stretching it in very unnatural ways.  

Joe Hoffman: JPD is targeting that right arm of Zion to take away the effect of the Ban Hammer.

Benny Newell: It’s like Game of Thrones.  You don’t get to be the King if you don’t know how to play the game. 

Joe Hoffman: Game of Thrones?

Benny Newell: Do I have to always spell it out for you?  Take away your opponent’s strength.  Your opponent can’t win. DRINK!

Joe Hoffman: The other thing is this also takes the crowd out of the match.  It’s hard to rally up when the crowd is silent.

Benny Newell: That’s why Jace Parker Davidson is the King of Everything.

Again Zion latches on to the bottom rope.  Boettcher immediately calls for the break.  Jace ignores so the count starts up again.

One…

Two…

Three.

Four…

F- and again Jace relents at the very last second and releases Zion’s arm.  

Joe Hoffman: Jace is riding that line and staying right on that arm.

Benny Newell: He’s taking away Darin Zion’s primary weapon, that Lee-damn Ban Hammer move.  Zion’s easy pickings if he can’t hit his big move.

Zion rolls back and forth holding his arm as Davidson stomps on it repeatedly.  He clamps onto Zion’s arm.  JPD wrenches the arm… pulls on the arm… digs his knuckles into Zion’s shoulder and stomps the arm again.   Zion tries to get away but JPD pulls him up and nails him with a forearm.   Fireman’s carry by Jace to a body slam. Davidson covers.  

ONE…

TW- Zion kicks out.  

Jace stays on it.  He’s got Zion trapped in a corner and continues to work the bad arm.  Davidson uppercuts the arm.  Zion tries to claw back but JPD drives an elbow to the arm.  Davidson whips Zion from corner into corner.  He follows and hits a huge chop. 

Crowd: WOO! 

He takes Zion’s arm and drapes it over the top rope.  JPD slips out of the ring and jumps off the apron yanking Zion’s arm down.

Joe Hoffman: He is literally trying to pull that arm off.

Benny Newell: This is Jace Parker Davidson at his best.  Ruthless. Methodical.  He’s not going to allow Zion a chance to get lucky with one shot. 

Joe Hoffman: And he continues to keep the crowd at bay. 

Davidson whips Zion corner to corner again.  Darin tumbles backward.  JPD jumps on him from behind- pulls back- and drives the knees to his back. 

Joe Hoffman: LUNGBLOWER!

Jace rolls him over. 

ONE…

TWO- NO!  

Joe Hoffman: Zion gets a shoulder up. 

Madison yells at Boettcher about the pace of the count.  

Benny Newell: STAY ON HIM JACE!

The champion stomps Zion’s arm again and then dragged up and for a suplex.  He blocks.  Davidson lands a sharp elbow to Zion’s arm and tries again.  Zion blocks.  HE hits a snap suplex- not one hundred percent in execution but enough to send Davidson to the mat.  Zion hooks JPD’s legs and throws body shots.  He presses Jace’s shoulders on the mat. 

ONE…

TW- Davidson gets a shoulder up and rakes Zion’s eyes. He rolls Zion.  He traps the left arm.  Knee on the square of Zion’s back.  Jace takes hold of the right wrist with both hands.

Joe Hoffman: He’s going for the Execution!  

Benny Newell: DO IT!

JPD falls back to the mat and Zion’s arm is pulled back.  

Benny Newell: YES! 

Joe Hoffman: EXECUTION!  

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Joe Hoffman: The fans don’t like it but Jace Parker Davidson is dismantling Darin Zion here tonight.

Benny mocks the crowd.

Benny Newell: KING OF EVERYTHING (clap clap clap-clap-clap) DRINK!

Zion up to his knees and tries to get to the ropes.  Jace is a little late to react and can’t get the Bend the Knee.  Zion is able to roll out of the ring to safety.  

Joe Hoffman: But before JPD can finish him off, Darin Zion gets out of the ring and he’s got to regroup here.  

Right arm just hanging down at his side, Zion staggers over to Meredith to confer with her. He also tries to loosen up his arm.  

Joe Hoffman: Jace Parker Davidson has been in control for most of this match so far.  But Darin Zion continues to keep his cool and he has not let his emotions get the better of him.

Zion continues to try to move his arm.  JPD paces back and forth and gestures to him to get back into the ring.  

Benny Newell: It’s over Hoffman.  Zion’s arm is fucked.  He’s done.  He’s got nothing.  Zion can stay out there as long as he wants.  It won’t change the result of this match and he can’t win the title on the floor.

Finally, Matt Boettcher starts the ten count.

One…

Two…

Zion and Meredith huddle one more time.

Three…

Now Madison jumps up on the corner turnbuckle and starts taunting Zion.  

Four…

The chant starts up again.

#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)
#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)

Five…

Benny Newell: Don’t listen to them Zion.  Stay down.  Take the count out loss. 

Six…

JPD stands at the ropes and points towards Zion.

Seven…

Joe Hoffman: Zion’s trying to take as much time as he can.  

Benny Newell: He’s just postponing the inevitable.  

Zion steps forward.  Boettcher tells Davidson to step back and let him back in.

Eight…

Jace does.  Darin jumps up on the apron.  

Nine…

JPD rushes in to knock him off the apron.  Zion slides under the bottom rope and takes out the legs.  Jace falls forward, hits the ropes, and lands back first on the mat. 

Cue crowd pop.

Benny Newell: Ring the bell!  That’s a count out.

Joe Hoffman: No way Benny.  Zion slid in at the last possible moment.  

With the fans getting back into the match, Zion slides in from behind.  He locks JPD’s left arm with his leg.  He moves sideways and pulls JPD onto his stomach.  Using primarily the left arm, he pulls back on Davidson’s legs putting pressure on JPD’s back, neck, and legs.

Joe Hoffman: STF!  

Benny Newell: WHAT?

Cue crowd pop number two.  

#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)
#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)

Joe Hoffman: DARIN ZION HAS THE STF LOCKED ON!

The crowd on their feet now.  Zion tries to hold on.  JPD kicks and thrashes about to break the hold.  

Benny Newell: NOOOOO!  LEE-DAMMIT! 

Davidson reaches out and grabs the bottom rope.  Boettcher immediately calls for a break.  

Joe Hoffman: Using his left arm, Darin Zion got the STF on the champion but he couldn’t keep Davidson from getting to the ropes.  

Benny Newell: That’s why Jace Parker Davidson is the King of Everything.  He thinks of every conceivable thing when he’s in the ring. 

Joe Hoffman: He didn’t expect Zion to slip under the ropes and knock his legs out a few minutes ago. 

…

…

Benny Newell: Fuck off Hoffhole.

Both men back up.  

Joe Hoffman: Zion’s one armed at this point.  But the STF took a little bit out of JPD and the crowd is back into the match.

Benny Newell: Fuck the crowd.  Zion got lucky and now it’s time for him to bend the knee.  

#RallyZion chants echo through the arena as Zion darts in.  Running knee sends JPD back.  Another running knee forces him back to the ropes.  Jace fires back a couple right hands but Zion starts to grin. He ducks the next right hand and lariats Jace with his left arm.  Zion turns right back around and does it a second time.  Jace tries to lock up.  He sends Zion into the ropes.  Zion and lariats Davidson again and the crowd is loving it!  Davidson back up… ANOTHER LARIAT!

Benny Newell: WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?  

Joe Hoffman: DARIN ZION IS ON FIRE AND THE CROWD IS GOING CRAZY!  

#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)
#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)

Zion covers…

ONE…

TW-

OHHHHHHHH!

Joe Hoffman:  Davidson kicks out strong!

Benny Newell: Thank Lee!  

Jace up and shoves Zion to the ropes.  He goes for Zion’s arm.  Zion drop toeholds Jace and again the champion ends up in the ropes.  Zion runs the ropes.  JPD turns around.  Drop kick and Jace nearly goes up and over the top rope.  

Joe Hoffman: And now Jace Parker Davidson is on the defensive. 

Left armed CHOP by Zion.  

WOOOOO!

Left armed CHOP by Zion.  

WOOOOO!

Left armed CHOP by Zion.  

WOOOOO!

Davidson drops down to the mat.  Zion spins around…

Joe Hoffman: BUZZSAW KICK BY ZION! 

Zion rolls him up.

ONE..

TWO… NO!

Joe Hoffman: AGAIN DAVIDSON KICKS OUT.  

#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)
#RALLYZION (clap clap clap-clap-clap)

Benny Newell: Oh thank Lee, I need a drink.

Joe Hoffman: You always need a drink.

…

…

Benny Newell: Yeah. 

Zion runs in and jumps- both legs on each side of Jac.  He tucks under and rolls him up. 

Joe Hoffman: VICTORY ROLL!

Cue crowd pop number three.

ONE…

TWO…

T-

OOOHHHHHHH

Joe Hoffman: NOOO!  JACE PARKER DAVIDSON JUST GETS A SHOULDER UP!  

Meredith is up on the apron again and urging the crowd on.  The Best Arena is rocking now.

Benny Newell: I need another drink.

Joe Hoffman: CAN ZION DO IT?

Riding the adrenalin of the moment, Zion waits for Davidson to get back to his feet.  

He waits…

…waits…

Jace back up.  Zion spins around and tries to hit his finisher… but he can’t get his right arm up.

Joe Hoffman: No!  Zion tried for the Ban Hammer but his right arm won’t cooperate.

Benny Newell: Tactics Joe.  JPD knew if he neutralized the arm that would take care-

Zion spins around to the left.  His left arm extends out and completely catches Jace by surprise.  

Joe Hoffman:  WAIT?  WAS THAT THE… DAVIDSON’S DOWN!

Benny Newell: WHAT!

Cover.

ONE…

TWO…

THRE-…

Joe Hoffman: NO!  HE KICKED OUT!

Benny Newell: Oh Thank Lee… THAT’S RIGHT.  JACE PARKER DAVIDSON JUST KICKED OUT OF THE LEE-DAMN BAN HAMMER!

Joe Hoffman: Hold on Benny.  That was with Zion’s weaker arm.  Not as much power than it would have been had he hit him with the right arm. 

Benny Newell: Doesn’t matter.  Now FINISH HIM JACE!  FINISH HIM! 

Zion’s on his hands and knees.  He slams the mat with the left hand in disbelief.  Jace up.  His boot lifted up…

Joe Hoffman: BEND THE KNEE! 

…and curb stomps Zion face first to the mat. The crowd goes silent. 

Benny Newell: THAT’S IT!  THAT’S IT! 

JPD pulls Zion back up.  He locks the arms and spikes the challenger to the mat with a Paradigm Shift DDT.

Joe Hoffman: UNSCRIPTED VIOLENCE! 

Benny Newell: THAT’S IT!  THAT’S IT!

Cover.

ONE…

TWO…

THREE…

*DING-DING-DING*

Joe Hoffman: And that is it.  Jace Parker Davidson once again successfully defends the HOTv title!

Benny Newell: Never worried for one moment. 

Bryan McVay back in the ring.

Bryan McVay: Your winner at twenty-three minutes and twenty seconds… and STILL… HOTV CHAMPION……THE KING OF EVERYTHING! JACE! PARKER! DAAAAAAAAVIIIIIIDSOOOOOOOOON!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Davidson takes the belt from referee Matt Boettcher and defiantly holds it up in the air.  Madison joins him in the ring.  

Meredith also rolls in to check on Zion.  

Joe Hoffman: Jace Parker Davidson dominated the first twelve-thirteen minutes of this match but somehow, Darin Zion… one arm and all… found a way to rally back.   Jace survived a close pinfall and finished Zion with the Bend the Knee and Unscripted to remain the HOTv Champion. 

Benny Newell: Oh bullshit.  It wasn’t really that close.  JPD showed once again why he is the undisputed King of Everything.  Bend the knee peasants… bend the knee.  DRINK!  DRINK!  AND MORE DRINK!

Benny tips his head back and guzzles the contents down of his bottle of Jack Daniels.  

We cut out to a familiar, and for some, favorite view to the High Octane faithful… a jail cell. But sprawled on the cold, hard floor isn’t the body of Steve Solex or Bobby Dean. To be fair, it could be for all we know at the moment. Whoever that seemingly dead lump belongs to, it’s completely covered in posters.

As we move closer to the bars, you notice those aren’t just any posters.

Cancer Jiles occupies every single one.

You can’t even begin to count how many as they cover the entire floor of the cell and everything within it. And they’re all the same. A headshot. Of course. The golden hair slicked back, every strand perfectly in place. The mythical T-Shades. That stupid nose. And worse, the pucker.

???: That fuckin’ pucker.

The familiar, yet rare, voice grunts from under the pile of Jiles posters as a shirtless man in jean shorts pushes his way up and out into the plain sight. If that didn’t give it away, the short blond hair, muscular frame, and otherwise mostly unnoticeable features should.

Doozer: Where the fuuhhhh- oh shit.

Dollar Menu Doozy deflates as he processes and recognizes his surroundings. He runs both hands through his hair, releasing a deep sigh as he turns away from the bars.

That’s when he sees the framed posters on the back wall.

Cancer Jiles holding the LSD Title on the left.

Cancer Jiles holding the World Title on the right.

And a montage in the middle featuring COOL Reality and Best Alliance members Cancer Jiles and Steve Harrison, all celebrating various Tag Team Title victories and defenses.

Doozer: Lee, you motherfu-

The deep voice of The 4th Wahl interrupts the old bull, as the mountain of a man walks up to Doozer’s cell.

4th Wahl: I wouldn’t finish that, if I were you.

The fromer eGG Bandit scoughs.

Doozer: You’re not me. You’re the big, dumb douchebag that’s done absolutely nothin’ for me.

Dooze turns his back to the big man, and looks back up at the framed photos of his former friend.

Doozer: But I guess it doesn’t matter what you do for someone, sometimes.

He shakes his head, then turns back to The 4th Wahl, with his right arm pointing back to the pictures.

Doozer: All that… that could’ve been- No, that SHOULD’VE been ME!

The 4th Wahl snorts, with a small smirk on his face. That only turns The Dooze brighter shade of red, and the ring vet takes an aggressive step toward the bars separating him from Wahl.

Doozer: I’m the one who cared! I’m the one who sacrificed! Sure, I’m the one who quit. And I can’t take that shit back. But I couldn’t… He just… I never…

Struggling to find words, Doozer grits his teeth and brings both hands together to crack his knuckles. The 4th Wahl brings out a folded up uniform and tosses it between the bars onto a pile of Jiles’ face shots.

The 4th Wahl: Lee said to give you green since you’re low risk. But to be honest, I think the color fits ya. Enjoy your stay…

The Fourth Generation Superstar walks away, tossing out one more word as the scene fades.

The 4th Wahl: Loozer.

Joe Hoffman: And now folks we are ready for the second to the last match of the night, John Sektor defending his LSD Title against Clay Byrd.

Benny Newell: And it’s going to be a technical snoozefest Joe.

Joe Hoffman: Both men have gameplans going into this match for sure Benny, as they look to snap bones and tear ligaments.

Benny Newell: No crazy stipulations Joe?!?  People like Kostoff and Scottywood would be turning in their graves if they could see this match.

Joe Hoffman: Neither of them are dead Benny…

Benny Newell: I remember Mike Best and a shovel and didn’t Scotty die from over drinking?  That fucking lightweight.

Joe Hoffman: Let’s just move on to the two men who will be in this ring tonight.  Clay Byrd has had many shots at gold over the past few shots here in HOW, and he is looking to break through here tonight against a HOW Hall of Famer in John Sektor.  Who has held onto that title now for sixty-four days as he helds into his third defense tonight.

Benny Newell: Blah, blah, numbers.

Guitar and harmonica begin to blare through the arena, the start of  “Gunning For You” by Nick Nolan sends a silence across the crowd as Nick Nolan’s lyrics echo through the arena. Red letters slash across the screen as “BYRD” is spelled out. Clay appears through fog on the entrance ramp, cowboy hat low over his eyes, a long black duster on and a rope in his hand.

My Gun is loaded it’s getting time 

Two shots of whiskey i’m takin’ what’s mine 

Ain’t what you’re sayin it’s what you do 

Your time has come boy i’m Gunnin for 

You When hell is rainin down you’ll see my face won’t heara sound 

You’ll feel that bullet burnin through 

Take your last breath boy I’m Gunnin for You

Benny Newell: Only two shots of whiskey?  I’ve had four since his music has hit.

Joe Hoffman: Could you at least try and get most them in your mouth?

Clay begins his slow walk down the ramp. His eyes are fixed on the ring, and he trudges on. Not paying any notice to any of the fans in attendance.  There’s desperation deep in your eyes No turnin back now no compromise Cause only one of us walks out that door The other bleedin out on the floor Clay walks up the steps, and climbs into the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Clay is laser focused tonight on…

“Dirty Deeds” by AC/DC as the crowd erupts as John Sektor emerges onto the stage with the LSD Title around his waist and wastes little time making his way to the ring.

Joe Hoffman: And Sektor is focused too as he looks like he is ready to tear into Byrd!

Sektor slides into the ring and goes right for Byrd, but Hortgea steps in as he yells at Sektor in a way that even Sektor can understand to get back to his corner.

Bryan McVay: The following match is scheduled for one fall and is for the HOW LSD Championship!  Introducing first, the challenger, from Plainview, Texas and weighing in at 295 pounds… CLAY BYRD!!!!!

Benny Newell: Hurry up McVay and let them fight Hortega!

Bryan McVay: And his opponent, from Miami, Florida and weighing in at 242 pounds… he is the HOW LSD Champion…. JOHN SEKTOR!!!!!

Hortega calls for the bell as the two men charge at each other with arms raised as Clay doesn’t expect the southpaw stance of Sektor who quickly comes in with a left jab that catches Byrd on the jaw.  Sektor grabs the left arm of Byrd and then comes back in with a right as he drives Byrd back into the corner.  Sektor fires away with some more shots to the face and body as Byrd gets his arms up to block them the best he can before Sektor quickly kicks at the left knee of Byrd as Hortega yells for him to get out of the corner.  Sektor smiles as Byrd is down to one knee and grabs his head for a quick DDT.

Joe Hoffman: Quick offense here by Sektor as he catches Byrd off guard with the southpaw stance.

Byrd rolls away after the DDT and out of the ring as  Sektor pops up and goes to stomp at Byrd, but instead just kicks the bottom rope.  Sektor Slides out of the ring and Byrd quickly charges back and spears Sektor’s back right into the ring apron, he pulls Sektor off and drives him once again into the apron.  Byrd throws Sektor back into the ring as he re-enters as he stomps away at Sektor, yelling down at the LSD champion.

Joe Hoffman: Byrd turning things around quickly, nearly breaking Sektor in half on the ring apron.

Benny Newell: Guess adding some fat didn’t help Sektor all that much there.

Byrd lifts Sektor to his feet and irish whips him to the corner where he charges in and delivers a hard shoulder to the gut, Byrd nails a few lefts as he pulls Sektor out of the corner and spinebusters him to the ground…

Byrd follows up with a quick cover……

Hortega jumps into position and begins the count.

UNO…………

DOS……………..

Shoulder up by Sektor as Byrd hammers in a few more lefts before locking in a chin lock submission.  Sektor claws at the mat as he pulls himself towards the ropes as Byrd leans back on the hold to get as much torque as he can before Sektor grabs the bottom rope to break the hold.  Releasing the hold, Byrd clubs Sektor in the back of the head a few times as he pulls him back to his feet.

Joe Hoffman: Strong run here by Byrd as he is controlling this match after Sektor came out of the gate quick.

Benny Newell: But can he actually finish Joe… or fall just short again?

Byrd throws Sektor into the ropes and charges back at him, going for a huge lariat…

Joe Hoffman: The Texas Lariat!!!

Benny Newell: Sektor ducks it!

Sketor stops in the middle of the ring as Byrd turns back around and catches a boot in the gut and locks in a double underhook and lifts Byrd up and connects with a facebuster.

Benny Newell: C-Sektion!

Joe Hoffman: Cover by Sektor to retain!

UNO……….

DOS…………..

TRE………

Byrd gets his shoulder up as Sektor’s eyes show some surprise as he nods his head though and pulls Byrd back up to his feet and quickly throws him with a german suplex.  Sektor stands back up and focuses in on the left shoulder of Byrd as he starts to stomp away at it multiple times before dropping to the mat and locking his left arm into an armbar, wrenching back hard on the shoulder as Byrd claws for the ropes.

Joe Hoffman: Sektor targeting that left arm of Byrd, obviously trying to take away the Texas Lariat later in this match.

Byrd winces in pain as he pulls himself to the ropes, getting closer and closer, Byrd is just about to reach them as Sektor releases the hold, jumping up to stomp on the elbow of Byrd before he slides out of the ring.  Sektor quickly grabs the arm of Byrd and pulls him a few feet to the corner of the ring where he wraps the arm around the ring post once, twice, three times as Hortgea is yelling at him to get back in the ring.

Benny Newell: Rip the fucker off!  I wanna see some blood!

Joe Hoffman: Is that really all you care about?  Blood?

Benny Newell: I was hoping Byrd would give me some whiskey, but he’s being a selfish bitch.

Sektor releases the arm as he slides back into the ring, breaking Hortega’s six count.  Sektor quickly grabs the left leg of Byrd and slams his knee hard into the mat before dragging him to the center of the ring and locking in a half boston crab as he wrenches back on the knee and back of Byrd.

Joe Hoffman: Sektor doing a great job at cutting the big man down, focusing on those limbs and the back.

Byrd pushes up from the mat as he claws across the mat as he grabs the bottom rope and Sektor holds onto the hold til the last moment of Hortega’s five count as he finally breaks it.  Byrd rolls out of the ring and can only stand on his right leg as Sektor slides out of the ring as he runs around the ring post and at Byrd as he goes for a big forearm smash, but Byrd rolls out of the way and Sektor drills into the ring post instead.  Sektor stumbles as he turns around and Byrd charges at Sektor and shoulder tackles Sektor right into the steel steps.

Joe Hoffman: Spear by Byrd!  Sektor in trouble here!

Byrd pulls Sektor up and throws him back into the ring as he follows and goes for a cover.

UNO………..

DOS…………..

TRES…………..

Sektor just throws the shoulder up as Byrd pounds the mat, a mere split second away from winning the LSD Title.  But he quickly picks himself up as he shakes the pain out of his left arm for a moment before raising it in the air.

Joe Hoffman: Texas Lariat time!

Byrd charges at Sektor who has climbed back to his feet and he fires the left arm at the head of Sektor who just barely is able to duck the clothesline.  He turns around, but Byrd beat him to it as he drills Sektor in the stomach and nails a gut wrench powerbomb in the middle of the ring.  Byrd takes his boot and drives it into the throat of Sektor, trying to choke him out as Hortega pulls at him and Byrd breaks the choke at a three count.  Byrd pulls Sektor up and nails a couple hard punches as lifts Sektor up into the crucifix position and starts to parade the LSD champion around the ring.

Benny Newell: What the fuck is this show bout bullshit!  This is a championship match man!

Joe Hoffman: Byrd proving he has complete control of the LSD champion right now.

Benny Newell: But he has zero control of that title until he beats him.

Byrd then finally drops Sektor back first again in the middle of the ring as the thud of Sektor falling nearly seven feet echoes through the arena.  Again now Byrd goes for the cover on Sektor.

UNO………..

DOS………………..

TRES………………………….

Sektor goes to get his shoulder up but Hortega hand hits the mat for three….

Benny Newell: Son of a….

Joe Hoffman: It’s just a two!  Just a two!  Sektor just got the shoulder up in time Hortega says.

Byrd can’t believe it again as he stands back up and once again stalks Sektor who is slowly getting back to his feet.  Holding his back, Sektor regains a vertical base as Byrd charges again at the Hall of Famer for another Texas Lariat attempt.

Joe Hoffman: And he conn…

Benny Newell: Sektor takes out the knee!

Sektor drops down and kicks out the leg of Byrd who falls hard face first to the mat.  Sektor sees his chance as he grabs the head of Byrd and quickly locks in the dragon sleeper.

Benny Newell: Sektor Stretch!!!

Joe Hoffman: Byrd is fighting it though!

Sektor has the head locked in as he is trying to pull Byrd backwards, but just can’t wrench the big man backwards.  Byrd’s head slips free but Sektor grabs his hair and pulls back before he slams his face back into the mat.  Hortgea yells at Sektor but the Hall of Famer ignores it as he starts clubbing Byrd in the back of the head over and over.

Joe Hoffman: Sektor has those legs tied up and Byrd can barely defend himself!

Byrd is dazed as Sektor again grabs the head and goes to wrench it backwards, but as Sektor pulls backwards Byrd uses the momentum to roll Sektor backwards onto his back.

UNO…………..

DOS……………………

TRES…………………………..

Sektor has to release the Sektor Stretch as he kicks out of the pinfall.  Byrd goes to roll over but Sektor grabs the left leg of Byrd and drives an elbow hard into the back of the knee. Sektor again ties up the legs of Byrd and cracks the challenger in the back of the head with another sharp elbows before grabbing the head of Byrd.

Benny Newell: Nowhere to go now Brydy boy… you’re fucked now…. Fucked!

Joe Hoffman: Sektor, trying to lock the stretch in again!

Sektor locks Byrds head in as he starts clubbing away at his chest with some forearms as he tries to pull the submission hold back.  Byrd tries to fight it as he tries to punch the arm of Sektor to break the hold but Sektor has it synched in as Sektor hammers a couple shots into the back of Byrd.

Joe Hoffman: Sektor almost has it fully locked in!

Benny Newell: Break his fucking neck Sektor!!!!

With another shot to the back, Sektor is able to fully wrench Byrd back as he has the Sektor Stretch locked in as Byrd tries to struggle free.  Byrd keeps fighting as Sektor pulls back even more and more until Byrd is…

Benny Newell: Tap!!! Tap bitch!

Sektor wrenches back again and for a second time Byrd’s body weight sends the two backwards as Sektor’s shoulder hits the mat as Hortega makes the count.

UNO……………..

DOS…………………….

TRES……………………………….

DING DING DING

Benny Newell: What the fuck!!!  Nooooooo!!!

Joe Hoffman: I can’t believe it!  Unbelievable!!!

Bryan McVay: The winner of this match…. by submission….

Benny Newell: HUH?!?!?!

Bryan McVay: and still HOW LSD Champion…. JOHN SEKTOR!!!!!!

Joe Hoffman: Byrd tapped right before the three… at least that is what I gather from his body language.

Benny Newell: Fuck yes!!!!

Byrd collapses on the mat as Sektor releases the hold and rolls away, in almost disbelief as Hortega hands him the LSD title and points to him as the winner.

Joe Hoffman: Byrd a mere split second again from winning the LSD title as he tapped to the Sektor Stretch right before Hortega counted three.

Benny Newell: Sorry not sorry Byrd, try again ya fucker!

Joe Hoffman: Easy Benny, Byrd gave a hell of an effort tonight and nearly pulled out the LSD Title.

Sektor rolls out of the ring and quickly raises the title above his head as he stumbles up the ramp as Byrd starts to slowly sit up, holding his neck as he can’t believe how close he was as we cut away from ringside.

The video feed suddenly cuts to darkness, but there’s something… sumptuous about it, a strange magnetic quality that keeps the viewer’s eyes transfixed on the screen. As the visual fades in, it’s on a close-up of parted and full lips, the sound of gasping breaths somehow almost ghosting along the ear of any who hear it–but even without any other context, it’s clear what is driving the sound.

The camera cuts to the parking lot of the arena, directly behind the left shoulder of Hall of Famer and HOFC Champion Michael Lee Best. He’s watching in silence as EMTs load the gurney containing his father into the back of an ambulance. Commentary is quiet, as is Michael, as the doors close behind Lee and the ambulance begins to pull away from the arena. No sirens blare— the ambulance drives out of the shot, leaving Michael standing alone. 

As the Son of God stares off into the parking lot, a production assistant enters the frame, quietly handing Michael a thick packet of papers affixed to a clipboard. The camera can just barely pick out “BottomLine” at the top of the page, but nothing more. The Son glances over the first few pages in silence, before turning to the last page— the camera zooms in to see the bottom signature lines, where Lee Best has already signed his portion of whatever this contract is. 

Michael reaches out and takes a pen from the production assistant— it’s a grimy old #97Red ballpoint pen that has changed so many lives in High Octane Wrestling. Lee’s personal BottomLine pen. It takes an extra click to break the crusted blood from the ink end, as Michael takes a deep breath and signs his name on his portion of the contract. 

He hands the clipboard back to the assistant with a solemn nod, and then walks to the right, disappearing from the frame. BottomLine continues. 

Two large figures walk through the darkened halls of Alcatraz, the sound of rickety wheels rolling on broken concrete precedes them down the ominous halls, as a single light flickers on and off in the distance.

The two men, having made this trek numerous times a day, look almost bored with this chore. As they get closer to the end of the hall they can make out the sounds of a pitiful man past his breaking point.

Voice: … more… … more… … more… … more…

The 4th Wahl arrives at the last cell on the left and can’t help but take a second to look around the crowded cell. Empty wrappers litter the floor in mountainous piles. A bucket overflowing with human feces lies in the corner of the cell with a swarm of flies circling. And there, lying on his cot, his distended belly pointed up at the ceiling is “Beautiful” Bobby Dean… I don’t think you could call him “Beautiful” any longer. He’s been without a shower for the past couple of weeks, his body has a constant oily sheen to it, and his perfectly coifed hair is now matted to his head.

BBD: Please, no more… No more…

He repeats this mantra over and over again, as The 4th Wahl pushes the snack laden trolley into the cell, Lazer on his heels, pushing a trolley of his own. Neither man say a word, as Bobby looks at the new trays with trepidation.

BBD: Please… No… More…

The 4th Wahl: You brought this on yourself, fat man. You thought you could toy with GOD. Thought you would be cute. When GOD asks you for your last meal, maybe next time don’t answer with “everything.”

4th Wahl shakes his head in utter disgust as the fat man on the cot whimpers in agony. The thought of eating another bite makes the bile rise in his throat.

The 4th Wahl: You just couldn’t… not be *you*, could you? You useless, lazy, do nothing, fat fuck! Lee, he was rooting for you! All you had to do was, not be *you* for fuck sake. But no! No, you just had to do what you always do. Well, you want to *you*, Lee says, we help you be the best *you* you can be! So eat up, champ.

The 4th Wahl, with Lazer trailing a step behind, turns and heads back down the hall way as Bobby Dean continues to mutter.

BBD: … more… … more… … more… … more…

The 4th Wahl: Can you believe that guy, beat the World Champ? Man, what a fucking waste…

Lazer simply shakes his head, as they continue on down the darkened halls.

The Best Arena crowd has not let their energy die for a single moment during the whole evening, despite the various maimings that have gone on through the evening, if anything the blood lust just made them more boisterous. The excitement rolls on as Bottomline returns to the ring for the final match of the evening.

The Main Event.

World Championship time baybee.

Joe Hoffman: I think it would be fair to say that most of tonight’s show has been a nod to High Octane Wrestling’s past. We’ve seen Hall of Famers, long timers and the barnacle-esque clinger-on’ers but as we reach the main event, we get to look forward, we get to look at the future of High Octane.

Benny Newell: Future! BWAHAHAHAHA, that’s a good one. Thinking anyone has a fucking future. Planet’s dying, Joe.

We hear I’ve been told to report as a “healthy sniffle” from Benny’s microphone.

Benny Newell: The video game kid dies tonight too! FUCK YEAH!

The camera catches Joe doing his best to stop his eyes from rolling right around in frustration as he tries to bring the attention back around to the Main Event.

Joe Hoffman: Sutler Reynolds-Kael shocked the world at War Games, surviving an onslaught of legendary wrestling royalty to claim High Octane’s ultimate prize, The World Heavyweight Championship. Since almost day one, Sutler has had Conor Fuse in his sights, as an ally and enemy and tonight they stand in the ring once more.

Benny Newell: The Kael failson can die too. EVERYBODY DIES!

As Benny takes a gentle glug from one of his many bottles under the desk, the lights begin to dim, signalling that it is time…

Lights out.

“Seal of Seven Maidens” from The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past.

A golden spotlight appears at the top of the rampway and stoic, Ganon-like figures line the ramp from its entrance to ringside. The Zelda song is replaced by an orchestra playing the “Overworld Theme” to The Legend of Zelda: A Link From the Past as the crowd begins their !RANK chant. Conor Fuse emerges from underneath the stage to a loud cheer, sporting a newly inspired Link to the Past trench coat.

Benny Newell: If I never have to see another one of these bullshit video game entrances, I will die a happy man. Seriously, wish number one.

At the 1:30 mark in the theme song, Fuse raises his arms, as if insinuating he holds the Triforce and golden pyro explodes behind him. The Ganon cosplay figures stand perfectly still, heads lowered, tridents resting in their right arms. Conor makes his way down the ramp, looking determined and intense.

Joe Hoffman: June 6th, 2021, Conor Fuse’s journey in High Octane was changed forever when he was the last remaining member of Grapplers Local 214, losing the title in controversial fashion to Sutler Reynolds-Kael. Now he finally has his chance to challenge one-on-one!

Benny Newell: Controversial? Fuck off. Nothing controversial, that man tapped out!

Joe Hoffman: I meant about the two referee reversal decisions PRIOR. One of them had Conor winning!

Benny Newell: Drink!

Fuse approaches the ring, drops the trench coat and leaps onto the apron. He jumps over the top rope, frontward rolling to the middle of the canvas before standing, as golden sparklers go off from above. Meanwhile, tiny green, blue and red rupees fall from the rafters and into the crowd.

Benny Newell: Fucking right, give me one of those! Is this real currency?

Joe Hoffman: Ummmm…

Fuse stands on a top turnbuckle.

!RANK
!RANK
!RANK

The Ganons turn in unison to face Conor Fuse, raising their tridents for battle before the lights are out again. Once back on, the Final Bosses have vanished. Fuse marches around the ring, shaking the ring ropes, screaming into the stands, getting everyone rallied up.

Joe Hoffman: Something has seemed… off… about Conor Fuse during the last week. Loyal viewers of High Octane Television have swore that it’s like there are two of him…

Benny Newell: Everyone in this company is a two faced bitch, what’s one more?

Before we can get any further thoughtful analysis from Benny, “Believer” by Solence booms out of The Best Arena’s speaker system, just as Lee Best himself intended. There is a mixed and uncertain reaction from the crowd. The younger members of the audience are delighted to see the World Champion’s imminent arrival, the older and more stubborn Lee Best loyalist less so, what with the whole never joining the Best Alliance thing. The music continues to blare as spotlights dart and dash all over the joint. Conor paces around in the ring, frustrated by the theatrics of his opponent as fireworks shoot out from the entrance way in the form of fireballs, sparking up over and over again. The crowd’s anger and anticipation reaches a maximum as out from the back steps the High Octane Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion, Sutler Reynolds-Kael, dressed in pristine, glowing white.

Joe Hoffman: Do you think Sutler wants us to think him the hero with this attire?

Benny Newell: I think Sutler thinks he’s the hero and doesn’t give a fuck what we think. DRINK!

Sutler begins stepping forward towards the ring, no members of the family at his side for this one. With each step he takes forward, fireworks shoot off at either side. The camera zooms in on the champion’s face who seems to be revelling at his overproduced entrance. Conor Fuse’s initial amusement at the proceedings turns into frustration as Sutler stops at the bottom of the entrance way, his arms outstretched, summoning even more pyro.

Joe Hoffman: Has anyone checked the ticket sales, do we have the budget for this?

Benny Newell: Do you think anyone is checking the fucking budget right now?

A glowing Sutler begins to point his fingers towards the different turnbuckles, likely aiming to set off more pyro but his gleeful entrance is stopped by Conor Fuse sliding out of the ring and rushing towards him. Sutler yells that “YOU CAN’T DO THIS YET! IT’S ILLEGAL!” as he backs away from his challenger, rolling into the ring. Senior official Matt Boettcher yells at Fuse to return to his corner or he’ll throw out the match.

Joe Hoffman: Conor Fuse is starting this match with a hot temper, we really haven’t seen this side of him since his first few matches in High Octane.

Benny Newell: If you spent most of your days in buildings smelling of eldery piss, vomit and shit and you’ll likely be a bit more grumpy than normal too. You’ll probably start seeing things too.

Joe Hoffman: Multiple dimensions?

Benny Newell: Yeah, sure Joe, let’s go with that.

Sutler slinks into his corner, waving hello to the pacing animal that Conor Fuse has turned into. He very slowly and carefully removes the High Octane World Championship from around his waist, raising it high in the sky for all to see, the crowd noise is a mixture of high pitched shrieks of delight and angry, aggressive low pitch boos.

Joe Hoffman: For the final time tonight, let’s throw over to our Hall of Fame ring announcer Bryan McVay…

McVay stands in the centre of the ring as the crowd gives the newest HoFer a small ovation, he doesn’t let his emotions get in the way, barrelling forward with his job, he’s got shit to do folks.

Bryan McVay: …and his opponent, he is the current reigning and defending High Octane Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion, he is the 2021 War Games Sole Survivor, he weighs in tonight at one hundred and ninety seven pounds… he hails from Arkham, Massachusetts… SUTLERRRRRR REYNOLLLLLDS-KAAAAAAAAAEL!

Benny Newell: He remembers the double barrelled surname, that’s what makes him a Hall of Fame ring announcer!

Sutler waves his hand in front of himself as he bends down to do a shitty little bow, a sarcastic smile never breaking. As he slowly raises his head back up, he finds a boot getting directly connected to his skull, sending him staggering into the ropes, falling through and landing outside the ring. Sutler rubs his jaw as he yells frantically at Boettcher to do his job. Boettcher warns Fuse that he’s risking disqualification if he continues to try to take action before the bell… Captain Mr. Vintage throws up his hands in apology and backs off.

Benny Newell: Care home fumes fuck you up man. I went to visit an aunt of mine once, and spent the rest of the night at home vomiting.

Joe Hoffman: And that was the care home fumes, you say?

Benny Newell: What the fuck else would it have been?

Joe Hoffman wisely decides to stop engaging with this conversation as Matt Boettcher takes the World Championship from Sutler, who remains outside the ring, demanding suitable pre-bell protection. Matt Boettcher gestures for Sutler to return to the ring, Sutler slithers towards the apron, putting one knee up and leaning into the ropes, still demanding that Matt Boettcher ensure that he has safe passage back into the ring. Conor tries to rush towards the situation again but Boettcher threatens him with disqualification. When Boettcher has his eyes off the champion, he gestures for Fuse to “bring it”. Fuse almost reacts in the moment but starts to spot the trap.

Joe Hoffman: The match hasn’t even officially started yet and Sutler is already trying to wrap things up.

Benny Newell: The kid may be despicable, just a complete human sized shit but he comes from two lines of some of the best shortcut takers this industry has ever known. He knows exactly what he’s doing right now.

Sutler gets the sense that Conor Fuse isn’t going to take the risk of disqualification and stops his baiting attempts, rolling back into the ring. Matt Boettcher finally holds the World Championship in it’s beautiful 97Red gleamery up high, after a final check of both men in their corners, he signals for the bell.

Ding ding ding

Joe Hoffman: This is it folks! Reynolds-Kael! Fuse! The future of High Octane squaring off for the biggest prize in this industry. This match is a showcase for both men like no other.

Benny Newell: It’s just the Video Game Kid, why are we making such a big deal?

If you listen closely enough, you can hear Joe Hoffman’s large sigh through his headset. The two men who reached the very end of 2021’s War Games start out by staying in their respective corners for the initial seconds after the bell, clearly determined not to give up any of their game plan to their opponent. The roar of excitement from the crowd flows down to the ring in wave after wave. Sutler looks over at Conor Fuse, almost amused by the fact his opponent is so emotionally invested in the match. He starts to walk across the ring…

Conor picks up speed and leaps…

PWN’d!

Sutler tried to backdrop Fuse as he made the initial rush but instead got planted with a Tilt-a-Whirl DDT. He flops around on the mat like a dead fish as Fuse slides down into the champion, hooking the leg.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Joe Hoffman: Conor Fuse tried a shock and awe tactic, he didn’t waste a single second and lured Sutler in with a picture perfect DDT, Sutler did not see that one coming.

Benny Newell: Oh is the match over then? That was quick…

Joe Hoffman is about to leap in and correct Benny until he realises his Hall of Fame colleague may not have been sincere. The challenger rubs his face in frustration, his heart clearly guiding him into thinking the big move at the start would get him the World Championship. Sutler gasps for air, rubbing the side of his head as he rolls under the bottom rope, back to the outside of the ring. Fuse tries to signal to Boettcher he thought he had Sutler but Boettcher waves it off. Conor realises he has to swallow his frustration from a near miss and refocus his efforts. Sutler leans up against the ringside barricade, stretching out his neck from left to right and right to left. Matt Boettcher signals for Reynolds-Kael to get back into the ring.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

Sutler smiles, continuing to relax against the barricade, giving a cheeky wave toward Fuse inside the ring.

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

Sutler begins swaying back and forth, some could generously describe these moves as a dance. It’s clear from his ringside actions that he has no intention of getting back into the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Is Sutler trying to intentionally get counted out?

Benny Newell: I hate this obnoxious fucking teen but you have to give him credit for studying the shortcuts.

SEVEN!

A panicked Conor Fuse finally manages to put together Sutler’s plan. He rushes out of the ring to try and grab the World Champion but as he slides out of the ring, Sutler slides back into the ring. Fuse follows him directly back into the ring and meets a boot to the back of his neck for his troubles. Sutler drills a few more stiff boots right into Fuse’s neck until Boettcher intervenes and pulls him away. Sutler laughs off this attempt at control and returns right back to his challenger. He slides down to the ground and locks in a grounded cravat around the neck of Conor Fuse, wrenching things as tight as he can.

Joe Hoffman: Conor Fuse was smart enough to spot that Sutler was looking for the countout escape from this match but his game plan has allowed the champion to quickly gain the upper hand in the match.

Benny Newell: You can see the Best in that boy, brings a tear to your eye.

Joe Hoffman: If you say so…

Sutler hunkers down on the mat, angling his body to allow him to apply more pressure as Conor struggles, gasping for air. He’s probably hearing that music where Sonic The Hedgehog is about to drown in his head. Sutler starts to loosen the grip a little to free up his left hand to drill in a series of punches right into the temple, over and over again. The challenger twists and turns and manages to position himself in a manner that allows him to back elbow Sutler straight into the throat. As the champion starts to gasp for air, he lets go of the hold and rolls into the corner. Fuse isn’t able to take much advantage of the situation, he starts nursing the pain running down the back of his neck.

Joe Hoffman: I have to say, some of these blows by Conor Fuse have quite the element of unseen aggression about them.

Benny Newell: Maybe he’s suddenly realised he pissed his entire career up the wall aligning himself with an endless parade of failures. It’s that or it could be that spending months with horny elderly people BY CHOICE does things to a man… unspeakable things.

Before Joe has time to dig into the possible horror that Benny speaks from experience, Conor starts to pull himself back up, resting on one knee. In the corner, Sutler spots his opening and launches himself over to his challenger, clipping the back of the raised, bent knee. Fuse crumbles back down to the mat, letting out an agonising roar on his way down. Sutler scrambles like a sneaky snake and locks in a single leg half-crab, targeting the knee he just chopped. Sutler sits firmly on Fuse’s back, wrenching the crab with all his 20 year old might. Fuse pounds the mat, trying to distract himself from the pain.

Joe Hoffman: Sutler may be obnoxious, irritating, boastful…

Benny Newell: Were you planning to go somewhere with this?

Joe Hoffman: Oh, I got lost for a second. He’s incredibly resourceful and ring aware of his limited time in the industry. You have to imagine that’s the strength of the Kael Family training.

Benny Newell: I think he just thinks “what would a little shit do?” and then does that.

Conor Fuse rolls around on his belly and Sutler begins yanking deeper and deeper. The mat pounding ceases being helpful as the pain rushes through Fuse’s body. Matt Boettcher checks in on Fuse but he absolutely refuses to give in. Conor manages to control his free leg and brings it up to his chest, he scrunches his face up tight and kicks back wildly with all his might, delivering a mule-like kick straight to the face of the World Champion.

Joe Hoffman: The Kael Family have the donkey punch, Conor Fuse has the mule kick!

Benny Newell: That is nowhere near as clever as you think it is.

Sutler falls backwards from the force of the kick and Fuse spots his opening. He rushes towards the ropes and leaps up…

SUPER SPLASH

Or it would have been if Fuse’s leg hadn’t given way as he leaped up on the turnbuckle. His bad leg buckles and gets taught, tangled within the second rope. Like a lion spotting its prey, Sutler sees the predicament that Fuse has caused himself, slaps his own face to wake himself up and rushes over. His speed ends up being a little too fast, Fuse uses Sutler’s momentum against himself and trips Sutler’s throat right into the top rope.

Joe Hoffman: Fast thinking from Fuse, his leg had not recovered enough to scale the turnbuckle but he managed to evade further damage from the World Champion.

Benny Newell: JUMPING OFF THE TOP ROPES IS ILLEGAL!

Joe Hoffman: When did you start caring about the rules?

Benny Newell: When we risk having that video game kid as our World Champion. I thought Cecilworth Farthington was the bottom of the barrel but this would be the death of us!

As Sutler stumbles backwards, the still very much hooked-into-the-ropes Conor Fuse slaps the champion’s chest with Fury and yells “WEAPON GET”. Sutler Reynolds-Kael does not take very kindly to this and decides that he is going to reply by helping Conor Fuse out of the ropes.

By smashing his skull into the mat.

With a spiked DDT.

Sutler rolls over and hooks the leg of Fuse.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Sutler balls up his fist in frustration, slamming that balled fist right into the face of Fuse. This seems to be some form of breaking spot from Fuse, who rubs his face, balls up HIS fist and smashes Sutler right in the nose.

Sutler Reynolds-Kael: NOT THE NOSE! MY SUBSCRIBERS LOVE MY NOSE!

Completely hog wild in blind rage, Sutler tries to reply with a wild swing but Fuse ducks it, rolling through and getting back up to even footing. He leaps into the ropes and plants the champion straight in the chest with a shotgun dropkick. Sutler gasps like a fish out of water, trying desperately to get the air back into his system. Knowing that he has an opening, Fuse continues the attack stomping down over and over again on Reynolds-Kael.

Joe Hoffman: DOOM Stomps!

Benny Newell: Do you even know what DOOM is?

Joe Hoffman: I don’t need to, I just need to know what the move’s called. Just like I know Conor Fuse has taken control of this match. Those stomps of Fuse have a bit more spice to them than normal.

Benny Newell: Elderly. Piss. Powers.

Fuse takes a few steps back from Sutler and bounces himself up against the ropes. He starts to roll forward and plants all of his weight atop the champion’s chest with a rolling thunder-like maneuver in the ring-like structure. Instead of rolling off, Fuse leans back and hooks Sutler’s leg.

ONE!

TWO!

KICKOUT!

Fuse smiles to himself, giving the appearance that the kickout was all part of his game plan. He drills another elbow into the champion, this time straight to all those ooey-gooey guts.

Sutler’s fish-like gasping returns as Fuse stands back up. He takes careful measure of the World Champion, a disgusted look crawls across his face, clearly feeling disappointed in the man he considered a rival. He leaps high into the sky.

Joe Hoffman: HEAD STOMP! HEAD STOMP!

Benny Newell: How is that even legal? I LOVE IT!

Unfortunately for the challenger, Benny’s question didn’t apply to the Double Foot Stomp that he had just tried to drill directly into the skull of the champion. Instead it was about the boot that the challenger raised and drilled directly into the challenger’s junk on his way back down. Fuse collapses into the mat, cupping his jewels in the process.

Benny Newell: It’s okay, the Conor Fuse on page 47 can still have children. Or was that page 38? Hang on…

The microphone picks up the sound of various papers being scrunched and unscrunched through as Fuse writhes on the mat, looking more irate than pained. The champion, very satisfied with his tactics raises one arm up in victory, attempting to bask in the adulation of his adoring public. What the champion doesn’t expect is for Conor Fuse to fight through the pain, spot the exposed arm, leap on it and pull Sutler Reynold-Kael’s in tight.

Benny Newell: Is that…

Joe Hoffman: The Sutler Method! Conor Fuse has locked in The Sutler Method and the champion is stunned.

Benny Newell: YOU BETRAYED THE FAMILY BUT YOU BETTER NOT TAP TO THE VIDEO GAME KID!

Fuse looks like he surprised himself with how fluid the action was as he tried to keep the hold locked in tight.

Sutler starts to fade.

And some more.

And some more.

Matt Boettcher rushes into the scene to check on Sutler’s continuation as Fuse’s face begins to contort, clearly demonstrating the pain it’s causing to keep the hold locked in. Matt Boettcher lifts Sutler’s arm.

It starts to drop.

Wait, no, it starts to turn into a fist.

As Sutler’s arm begins to drop, he balls up his fist and punches Fuse directly in his bad knee that suffered the single leg crab earlier in the match. Fuse winces but keeps the hold locked in tight as the champion starts to fade further.

Benny Newell: You wouldn’t steal a grandma. You wouldn’t steal a hospital. PIRATING MOVES IS A CRIME. STEALING IS AGAINST THE LAW!

Joe Hoffman: It happens all the time, Sutler tried to do it earlier!

Benny Newell: He’s Head of HR, he probably organized the official paperwork before the match.

The light in the champions’ eyes fades further away as Fuse tries to do everything in his power to keep the hold locked in.

Matt Boettcher studies the situation closely.

He lifts his arm.

…

Just before he can signal for the bell, Sutler calls on all the energy left in his body and hammers a flurry of blows directly down on Fuse’s bad knee. Fuse tries to keep the hold locked in but the pain overwhelms him and he loses his grip. He slides down into the mat and the champion uses the ring ropes to prop himself up.

Joe Hoffman: That was incredibly close. Sutler was going out.

Benny Newell: Too close. We almost had a nerd champion, A NERRRRRRRD!

Sutler shakes his head as he tries to gather himself as he leans on the ropes. The challenger slowly gets to his feet as well and shakes his knee as with pure will power only is he able to stand fully.

Joe Hoffman: Both men are standing….but barely.

Sutler staggers towards a limping Conor fuse and the two men meet once again the middle of the ring. Both men unload with right hands and with each blow the pace of the punches quickens until the Chicago crowd is cheering madly for the heart being shown by these two young HOW superstars.

Finally we see Sutler gain the upper hand as he delivers a kick to the already damaged knee of Conor and as the man yells in pain Sutler kicks him in the gut and proceeds to set him up for his Son of Sin move.

Joe Hoffman: Here we go!!!!

Sutler gets Fuse in position for the spinning unprettier and begins the rotation to execute the move……

BOOM

Head hits canvas and the man is out cold.

Joe Hoffman: HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!

Benny looks at Joe incrediously as the man hardly ever swears and as the HOV shows the replay we can see why…

As Sutler started the rotation on the SOS, Conor Fuse was able to stop the momentum and reversed the rotation and it was the CHAMPIONS head that was driven hard into the canvas by the CHALLENGER who literally stole the CHAMPIONS move.

Joe Hoffman: Conor Fuse just stole Sutler’s devastating spinning implant kamikaze!!!!!

Benny Newell: HOW many moves is Fuse going to steal!!!!!????????

The HOV shows the replay one more time and the crowd gasps as all focus returns to the ring as we see Fuse crawling towards the face down Champion and uses his own head to roll SRK over and he covers.

1…………………………

2…………………………

KICKOUT!!!!!!!!!

Sutler barely lifts his right shoulder up in time to kick out of the pinfall attempt

Joe Hoffman: My God……..if Fuse hooks the leg there you gotta think this match is over.

Fuse hits the mat in frustration and sits up on knees and looks down at Sutler who continues to have a hard time breathing.

Conor then smacks the chest of the Champion once again and this time he follows up by grabbing Kael by the throat. Fuse begins screaming in an almost primal way as he squeezes the neck of the Champion, cutting off the circulation of the man.

Joe Hoffman: Is that a death grip……an Arkham Death Grip???

Fuse, completely out of his mind, begins headbutting Kael as he holds the grip on the man’s throat.

Joe Hoffman: CONOR FUSE JUST STOLE THE MINISTERS DEATH GRIP FINISHER!!!!!!?????

Fuse continues to headbutt the nose and orbital bones of the Champion and sure enough Kael finally goes limp.

The sound of Boettchers hand hitting the mat is lost to everyone as Kael is lying flat and Fuse has his hand on the throat of the champion.

Blood is flowing freely from the nose of Sutler and suddenly Boettcher rushes in and tackles Fuse to the ground.

Fuse nails Boettcher with a back elbow and then he slowly shakes out of his fury.

Boettcher, on his backside, points at Fuse and signals for the bell.

Bryan McVay: WINNER OF THE MATCH VIA PINFALL…….AND NEEEEEEEEWWWWWW WORLD CHAMPION………….CONOR FUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSEEEEEEEE!!!!

Fuse looks at Boettcher in a state of shock as he continues to realize just what happened.

Joe Hoffman: NEW CHAMPION!!! NEW CHAMPION!!!!!!

Fuse gets up to his feet and limps towards Boettcher and helps the referee up to his feet…apologizing for the blow.

Boettcher is handed the World Championship by a HOW crewmen and he asks Fuse to turn around so he can put the strap around his waist.

The Chicago crowd is stunned as they see Fuse turn and Boettcher secure the belt around his waist.

Fuse waits for Boettcher to raise his hand……….but it never happens.

Fuse slowly turns and that is when he first hears the crowd erupting and then he sees what is coming at him…..but far too late.

The knee catches the Champion square between the eyes and as Fuse falls limply backwards he sees a the lights above him begin to blur.

As he, and the broadcast, fade to black we see a final image of the man that delivered the blow.

Michael Lee Best.