Refueled XCIX

The High Octane Television logo fades out and the another live edition of Refueled opens to wide panning shot of Madison Square Garden from way back in the cheap seats. The rabid New York crowd is eager to kickstart the 99th episode of High Octane Wrestling’s flagship show—luckily for them, the night’s opening contest was about to begin…

“Stronger On Your Own” by Disturbed begins to play over the arena sound system; moments later Brian Hollywood swaggers out from the back, drawing boos from the NYC fans. As Hollywood opens his eyes, pyro shoots off in opposite corners of the stage before making its way toward center stage. As the pyro converges in the center, the camera zooms in to the reflection in Hollywood’s eyes as he walks down the ramp, shedding his vest and tossing it to the floor. He makes his final push as he charges the ring, rolling underneath the ropes. He gets back to his feet and scans World’s Most Famous Arena, glaring at the crowd. He takes his place in the corner, awaiting his opponent.

The fans in attendance buzz with anticipation. The powerful thumping of large drums segues perfectly into “Fighter” by Jung Youth and Sam Tinnesz.

Brick and Mortar

Blood and Water

Goin’ Harder

Firestarter

David Noble emerges onto the stage, dressed in blue jeans and wrestling boots. He looks out at the fans, his acknowledgement met with loud cheers. He walks to the ring, keeping a focused eye on Brian Hollywood the whole time as he rounds the corner and hops up onto the ring apron before stepping through the ropes. Hollywood, too, slips quickly into the ring.

The bell sounds and the two men begin to circle one another.

Joe Hoffman: Welcome everyone to Refueled! As always I am Joe Hoffman and we are not wasting anytime tonight folks as we get the last show before War Games underway with in ring action. Neither of these men will be competing in this year’s War Games match, so you’d have to imagine they’re both looking to make a definitive statement here tonight.

Hollywood reaches forward, fingers splayed and outstretched, beckoning Noble into a test-of-stretch. Before Noble’s fingers can fully lace-up with Hollywood’s, his boot shoots forward—

Joe Hoffman: Noble catches Hollywood off guard with a kick to the mid-section that doubles him over. He’s not going to going to let Hollywood get one over on him.

Noble stands him up straight with a heavy uppercut, catching him on the end of his chin. Hollywood rocks back, staggering into the ropes and rebounding wearily into a thudding forearm smash to the side of his head.

THWACK!

THWACK!

THWACK!

Joe Hoffman: Noble laying them in now, really sitting down on those forearm strikes! His striking’s looking very impressive here tonight.

Three more jaw-rattling forearms, and Hollywood is on spaghetti legs, stumbling into an adjacent corner. David takes his time, stalking slowly after him. He spins his dazed opponent around and waistlocks him from behind.

Chants of “NOBLE! NOBLE! NOBLE!” rise gradually in volume, reaching a fever pitch.

Joe Hoffman: OOOH! Noble powers Hollywood over, dropping him high-and-tight on his upper back with a textbook German suplex!

Hollywood remains folded up on the mat as Noble floats over into an (awkward looking but nonetheless effective) over.

ONE!

TWO!

Joe Hoffman: He could have him here!

THR—KICKOUT!

The force of Brian Hollywood powerfully kicking out with the combined strength of both his legs sends Noble toppling over onto his back.

Joe Hoffman: Hollywood back up now, but looking very unsteady. Noble up, too—he sees Hollywood’s asleep at the wheel…

Noble notices the opportunity and moves in for the kill, landing another series of forearms that turn the side of Hollywood’s face dark red and puffy.

He backs Hollywood up into the ropes and shoots him off with an Irish whip, before getting into position to deliver a devastating spinebuster. Hollywood, having finally recovered from the effects of the German suplex, clocks it from a mile away and launches himself into Noble, tackling him to the mat with a Thesz press!

Joe Hoffman: Thesz press by Hollywood! He’s battering Noble with everything he’s got!

Rapid-fire rights and lefts rain down upon Noble. He shakes Hollywood, rolling him off to the side and scrambling to his feet. But Hollywood’s there waiting for him and immediately hits him with a running big boot!

Hollywood drops down for a lateral press on Noble!

ONE!

TWO!

THR—NO!

Joe Hoffman: Noble kicks out!

Hollywood, frustrated that the big boot didn’t get the job done, snatches hold of a rear chinlock on Noble, grinding his forearm into Noble’s jaw.

The crowd rallies behind Noble; he rises to his feet, Hollywood still squeezing and wrenching his head. He plants three elbows into Hollywood’s stomach to loosen his grip, then frees himself and BLASTS him in the face with a spinning elbow!

He grabs Hollywood, tucking his head under Hollywood’s left arm and gripping him tightly around the waist.

Joe Hoffman: NORTHERN LIGHTS SUPLEX—NO!

Hollywood frantically kicks his feet as they are lifted off the mat. Noble tries to get him over but fails to do so, and Hollywood lands safely back on the mat. They jostle for position, Hollywood landing clubbing blows to Noble’s back while Noble no-sells the pain as best he can and repositions his feet.

Noble slips to Hollywood’s right, this time tucking his shoulder underneath Hollywood’s armpit, and Saito suplexes him violently over onto the back of his neck to a huge pop from the fans!

The momentum of the throw ragdolls Hollywood and he ends up in a kneeling position on the canvas, head drooped forward.

Noble waits for Hollywood’s gaze to rise and meet his own.

SHINING WIZARD!

Joe Hoffman: Noble connects with a clean knee to the face! He covers, hooks the leg!

ONE!

TWO!

THR—NO!

Joe Hoffman: Noble kneels on the mat—you can see he’s contemplating his next move, but he better hurry up, Hollywood’s beginning to stir. He grabs Hollywood by the hair and drags him to his feet…

Noble hits the ropes…

Joe Hoffman: Noble with a bone-crunching spear!

Hollywood lands hard on his back, clutching his ribs and grimacing in pain, but Noble doesn’t immediately follow up.

The fans sense what’s to come next as Noble backs away from his opponent, sizing him up from afar.

Joe Hoffman: Hollywood sucking in a few deep, most likely painful breaths as he gets back up to a vertical base…

The camera catches Hollywood’s POV from behind: Noble, standing several feet away across the ring, target-locking him with intense focus, before…

Now, Hollywood wants very much to avoid what he knows is already on its way… but his mental faculties are not presently up to snuff; his reaction time has been slowed a significant degree by Noble’s offensive onslaught, and he simply can’t get out of the way in time.

Joe Hoffman: Noble sprints across the ring, jumps…

THWAAAAAAAAACK~!

Joe Hoffman: There it is! He hits it! RISE UP!

Noble’s signature pinpoint jumping knee strike crumples Hollywood to the canvas to a MASSIVE pop from the crowd.

Joe Hoffman: Noble makes the cover!

ONE!

TWO!

…

Joe Hoffman: THREE! Noble takes it!

DING! DING! DING!

Joe Hoffman: David Noble picks up the victory here tonight with his Rise Up knee strike… and Hollywood still looks out on the mat, ladies and gentlemen. He may be calling his dentist when he wakes up tomorrow.

Bryan McVay: And here is your winner, via pin-fall… at a time of seven minutes fifty two seconds… DAAAAAAVID! NOOOOOOOOBLE!

“Fighter” starts back up, playing amidst continuous chanting of the match winner’s name, as David Noble exits the ring and walks to the back, and Refueled XCIX rolls on…

Mike Best: I want everyone to take a look around this room.

We’re backstage in the arena, where CEO Michael Lee Best is literally wearing an army helmet as he stands up in front of his squad. The entire Team Best has assembled, as Chris America, JPD, Tyler Best, Scottywood, John Sektor, JJR and STRONK sit in a semi-circle around their captain.

Mike Best: From now until the final bell rings on June 12, 2022, the men surrounding you are your partners. Your family. Your brothers. I don’t care what you’ve done to each other in the past, what you’ll do to each other in the future, or how you feel about each other right now… until War Games has come and gone, these men are all that matter to you in the fucking world.

Each of the men casts sideways glances to the other wrestlers in the room, all of them silently nodding to one another. This team looks to be on the same page.

Mike Best: I look around this room and I see Hall of Famers, both present and future. I see men who have been champions, men who are champions, and men who will undoubtedly be champions soon enough. I see men who I was proud to draft to Team Best at this year’s War Games, with no hesitation. Men who I wanted on the right side of history, when the dust settles and we head toward Rumble at the Rock. But I’d like to make absolutely one thing clear to each and every one of you.

He leans in a little closer, his voice lowering almost to a whisper.

Mike Best: I don’t give a fuck which of you wins the HOW World Championship.

A long pause, and a stare.

Mike Best: I don’t care if it’s you, Sektor, claiming your second War Games this era. I don’t care if it’s Jace Parker Davidson, reclaiming his throne as the King of Everything, or Christopher America becoming the first man to ever win War Games three times. I don’t care it’s STRONK planting his flag atop the mountain, or Jeffrey Roberts tossing his shackles aside and embracing conquest. I don’t care if it’s Scottywood, finally getting that monkey off his back. I’ll be honest with you… I don’t even care if it’s my own Son, Tyler Adrian Best.

He glances aside, very aware of the camera and looking DIRECTLY into it.

Mike Best: It’s ADRIAN, Lee. Check your bifocals.

He turns back to the squad.

Mike Best: So long as War Games ends with a member of TEAM BEST holding Big Red, I am going to make sure that every single member of this squad is handsomely rewarded. I have captained a team for ever War Games this era, and I have fucking won. That’s why you’re all here. That’s why this is happening. You’re all pawns in my unending war with the very concept of losing, and I’m not afraid to admit it. I am the CEO of High Octane Wrestling. I can make life very good for the fucking lot of you, or I can make it very difficult. We are on the precipice of war, so Jace, I want you watching Tyler’s back out there tonight. It’s his first match. That’s your fucking nephew, as far as you’re concerned. Got me?

Jace looks over at Tyler and nods, and then looks back at Michael Lee Best and nods once more.

Mike Best: Good. Scottywood, Sektor… you guys go out there tonight and send a message, but don’t leave it all in the ring. This is the Go Home show… the war is still a couple of weeks away, and I need you to keep your eyes on the prize. The rest of you? Look out for your brothers. Use the fucking buddy system, I don’t care… stay safe, stay hungry, and stay ready for war, because war is fucking coming. I’m proud of this team, I know we can win this fucking thing… and God help you if you can’t.

He pauses for a moment, having now said everything that he came here today to say.

Mike Best: Dismissed, soldiers.

With a weak little salute, the CEO sends his team on their way as Refueled heads to a commercial break.

Back live from the quick commercial break and text at the bottom of the screen reads “earlier today” as the Locker Room Leader, Conor Fuse enters Madison Square Garden. He walks through a hallway, soon approaching gorilla before setting his SNES duffle bag down and peeping through the curtain.

Except it’s not the rampway or ring setup he sees. Instead, there seems to be something… or someone… blocking his view.

Fuse takes a step back as Jace Parker Davidson walks through the curtain, as if he was waiting for this interaction. The two former teammates stare at each other, as JPD cracks a faint, cocky smile.

Conor Fuse: What do you want, Jace?

Davidson’s arms are still crossed. He deliberately delays his response.

JPD: I heard the news. Later on tonight you wanted to rally the troops [motioning with his head towards ringside] in there, am I right?

The gamer doesn’t bother replying. He simply continues to glare at JPD.

Davidson digs into his pocket like he almost forgot. He reveals a sheet of paper and hands it over to Conor. The Power-Up King snatches it from Davidson’s hands and scans the document.

JPD: The Board is banning you from any in ring segments tonight, or else you will be removed from War Games.

Jace can’t help but grin again.

JPD: The last time you were out there it ran a little… long.

Fuse’s eyes dart across the text. He’s able to finish reading the document very quickly and is certainly not impressed, although the look on his face suggests he’s not surprised.

JPD: Everyone else on your team is fair game to do what they’d like, though.

Conor glances up from the notice. He sees Davidson smirking.

Conor Fuse: That’s fine man, no big deal. Love how you’re a pawn in their little game.

Eventually, the gamer smirks back.

Conor Fuse: I’m the Locker Room Leader.

And gives a wink.

Conor Fuse: If I can’t rally the troops inside MSG…

He shrugs.

Conor Fuse: I’ll simply go outside.

Conor crumples the sheet of paper, turns around and tosses it to the ground.

Conor Fuse: I would’ve had your back, Jace. Just like I did when you weren’t around. But you chose wrong. You’ll see. You chose wrong…

Davidson shakes his head. He knows he chose right.

JPD: Oh, you have absolutely no idea…

Jace snaps his fingers and a large group of EPU members appear from behind the curtain. They line up in order as Jace turns to look at them.

JPD: Escort our ‘Locker Room Leader’ outside of the building. Madison Square Garden is no place for a child to be. Make sure he has no access to the building tonight, I mean… we don’t want him to get hurt now do we?

Jace has an evil grin spread across his features as the EPU members nod and begin to march towards The Vintage just as they were ordered. Conor’s voice trails as he’s now out of view.

Conor Fuse: Appreciate you looking out for me, buddy. See you in a few weeks.

The video ends and we cut back live inside MSG.

We cut over to the commentary table as we are ready for our next match of the evening.

Joe Hoffman: Up next we have Sektor vs. Zion. No strangers to each other, that’s for sure and based on the events of LAST week, this should be very interesting indeed. To the ring.

Bryan McVay stands in the center of the canvas.

Bryan McVay: This match is for one fall! Introducing first… from Crown Point, Indiana… weighing two-hundred-twenty pounds… DARRRRIN ZIONNNNNN!

“Happy Song” by Bring Me The Horizon blasts over the PA system as Darin Zion, who is wearing a black leather jacket, comes down to the ring accompanied by nobody but himself.

Joe Hoffman: My understanding is Meredith is gone, folks.

Zion heads down the ramp. He continues to point at himself with intensity, as if insinuating he HAS TO win this match. Once inside the squared circle, Zion removes his leather jacket and awaits…

“Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” by AC/DC replaces DZ’s theme as The Gold Standard appears behind the curtain.

Bryan McVay: His opponent… from Miami, Florida… weighing two-hundred-forty-five pounds… he is THE GOLD STANDARD… JOHN SEEKKKKKTOR!!

Sektor makes quick work of his entrance, looking concerned and yet also focused based on his loss from last week. John enters the ring and immediately tells referee Matt Boettcher to ring the bell.

DING DING

Zion charges at Sektor with a head full of steam but the veteran sidesteps and Zion runs right into the buckle chest-first. Zion stumbles out as Sektor hits the ropes, clubbing Darin across the back with a clothesline. With Zion on the mat, Sektor deadlifts him into a release German suplex…

Joe Hoffman: Hold on a second here!

The crowd is stunned to see Zion flip head-over-heels and land on his feet! #RallyZ screams at Sektor to turn around and once The Gold Standard does, Darin leaps in the air and whacks Sektor across the face with a stiff elbow shot. Sektor is rattled… he falls into a corner. Zion Irish whips the former longstanding LSD Champion out of it and into the buckle across the way. This time it’s Sektor who hits chest-first and bounces off…

Zion with a dropkick. An elbow drop. A leg drop.

Darin doesn’t waste a second. He throws Sektor into the ropes and runs into the bigger man with a shoulder block.

Joe Hoffman: Zion’s in full control!

The suplex specialist rises to his feet. He ducks a right hand and latches onto Zion’s waist but the Multiverse Star performs a standing switch and throws Sektor into a release German suplex of his own!

Zion snaps to his feet. The crowd is shocked.

Joe Hoffman: BAN HAMMER! Darin damn near takes Sektor’s head off!

‘NFZ’ falls to his knees… but DZ doesn’t go for the cover. Instead, he applies the Red Rings of Death.

Joe Hoffman: I don’t think Sektor’s awake! John’s OUT!

…And Matt Boettcher notices this instantly. He calls for the bell.

DING DING DING

The crowd goes wild, attempting to process what they’ve just witnessed!

Bryan McVay: The winner of this match… DARIN ZION!

Zion discards both of Sektor’s arms and stands tall. He allows his right arm to be raised by Boettcher while lifting his chin at the MSZ crowd.

Joe Hoffman: Darin Zion beats John Sektor… clean… center of the ring with his old finishing move and then the Red Rings of Death… in Madison Square Garden….I know Michael said for John to NOT leave it all in the ring tonight….but he literally showed nothing tonight. Wow. Great win for Zion.

Zion retracts his hand from the referee and walks over to a turnbuckle. He shouts into the crowd while pointing at himself.

Joe Hoffman: I’ve seen Darin Zion with momentum before but my god…

Sektor rolls onto his chest, slowly coming to as Zion’s theme song plays and Refueled goes elsewhere.

We cut backstage of “The World’s Most Famous Arena” where we see an already emotionally spent Scottywood, who has just finished watching live Game 3 of the New York Rangers and Carolina Hurricane’s game here at MSG. He tosses out his now empty New York Rangers cup into the trash of the locker room as he grabs a bottle of water to hydrate himself up before his match with Clay Byrd later tonight. Behind him walks in Frankie, still wearing his #31 Igor Shesterkin jersey, he has a huge smile on his face after a big 3-1 Rangers win where Igor was the number 1 star. Plus playoff hockey at MSG is fun to watch.

Scottywood: RANGERS WIN!!!!

Frankie: Woooo! So you now ready for Clay tonight Scotty?

Scottywood: Yeah, this is gonna be fun… as long as Clay is cleared to wrestle tonight.

Frankie: Huh?

Ben Reeves: He’s making a dig at what was supposed to be my last match in some Fisher Price ran fed.

The hulking 6’9” and over 300 pound Ben Reeves walks into the room as Frankie eyes go wide… he is dwarfed by the 18 year old.

Ben Reeves: So we have a Hulk now?

Scottywood: This Frankie is Ben, Ben Reeves…

Frankie: Reeves, my old friend Dallas Reeves has the same name. Are you related to him by any chance?

Ben Reeves: I…

But he is cut off by another individual entering the locker room, The Queen of Epicness, Bobbinette Carey.

Bobbinette: I didn’t miss it yet, did I?

Scottywood: I didn’t think you needed to… I mean this is sorta between family…

Bobbinette: Seriously? We are on separate teams and I’m no longer family Scooter? What the firetruck? All the progress we made from ICONIC, just in the trash clearly. Cause I am not family.

Scottywood: That’s not what I meant… plus you aren’t technically in War Games yet…

Bobbinette: Excuse you? I’m starting it off with Harrison, so technically I am. But it won’t matter once I win LSD Title, I’ll be the iron woman in HOW.

Scottywood: Ok Bobbinette Stark… and when you do… you’re gonna give me the first shot at after War Games… right?

Bobbinette: So you’re match with Clay tonight. You ready for that?

Scottywood: You didn’t answer…

Bobbinette: And I asked if you’re ready for Clay.

Scottywood: You ready to be short a team member after I injure his ass tonight?

Bobbinette: Wouldn’t it just make you even with us? You have Sektor on your team after all.

Scottywood: Buuuuuurn.

Bobbinette: I said weeks ago just swap sektor for me because I was MOB’s second pick. It’s a shame that people didn’t listen when I said it. We would have been ok on the same team. We could have won War Games together instead of you having to throw it for me to win.

Scottywood: What?

Bobbinette: You know, you taking one for the team. Cause this is my dream and we are friends. You’re doing this to help me.

Scottywood: I never said that.

Bobbinette: This is my dream Scooter, come on. We are friends, no we are family and this is you helping me achieve my goals.

Scottywood: I don’t think so Carey. WHy would I throw War Games when you wouldn’t even say yes to giving me a shot a sixth LSD Title?

Bobbinette: Excuse me? My dreams are right now. Within reach. You forgave me so you’re going to help me win it.

Scottywood: I forgave you… I didn’t forget.

Frankie is aware how these things are going to go and looks at Ben and whispers.

Frankie: You get used to it… they do this from time to time..

Ben Reeves: Yeah, it’s just a bit off watching it in person rather than on TV.

Scottywood: You honestly expect me to just let you win?

Bobbinette: Was that not the whole point of scheming? You know once we found out we were on different teams? You know since I said I’m going to win War Games 2022 and that has been my goal since I came back. I would think that my friend would want to help me achieve that goal by any means necessary, even if it meant he took one loss which wouldn’t mean as much to him as it does to me.

Scottywood: Oh yeah, just one loss, just fucking War Games. Oh, and like you helped me beat Mike?

Bobbinette: I’d like to point out that we did beat Mike in that tag match, so technically I did help you beat Mike once already at that point. So I helped you achieve your dreams. Now you can help me achieve mine.

Scottywood: That’s a fancy fucking way to spin that Carey… but let me make something very clear. If me and you stand face to face in that War Games cell, I am going to make our fight at ICONIC look like fucking nothing.

Bobbinette: We’ll see about all that… now are you gonna go ahead with your big reveal finally?

Frankie: Big reveal? I like surprises!

Scottywood: Ben… do you wanna do the honors?

Ben Reeves: Um… sure. Frankie, not sure how to really say this… other than… Frankie, I am your son.

There is silence in the room as all three are looking over at Frankie who is just staring blankly back at Ben, he’s trying to compute the words that just were uttered to him… by his son.

Frankie: Do you have any beer Scotty?

Scottywood: Um… yes, but did you hear what…

Frankie: Get me a beer… now… please.

Scottywood: Sure…

Bobbinette: I think you might have broken him.

Ben Reeves: Sorry about that… dad.

Scotty cracks open a beer and passes it over to Frankie who immediately knocks it back and takes the largest drink that Scotty has ever seen him take in his life as we cut away from the backstage area and head to another commercial break.

Back from commercial, the camera pans up to Section 214 of Madison Square Garden.  A spotlight shines on Blaire Moise, ‘Ordinary’ Joe Bergman, and Sunny O’Callahan at the foot of the section.

Blaire Moise: Joe.  Tonight you and Xander Azula team up for the first time and your opponents are Jace Parker Davidson and a debuting Tyler Adrian Best representing The Board here.  Thoughts?

Section 214 makes some noise as Blaire points the microphone at Joe and Sunny turns and exhorts the fans and they rise to their feet in the background.

Joe Bergman: Blaire.  First off, I am excited to be here tonight in Madison Square Garden.  Every wrestler dreams of getting their opportunity to wrestle at ‘The Garden.’  It’s certainly been a dream of mine so I am looking forward wrestling here tonight with Xander against Tyler and JPD.  But first, let’s address what just happened earlier.

Joe turns the camera to speaks.

Joe Bergman: The Board’s corporate lackey and errand boy Jace Parker Davidson delivered a letter to the reigning HOW World Champion Conor Fuse that The Board would not allow him or Clay Byrd to cut an in-ring segment tonight.  It’s another example of how the Corporate Machine tries to shut down the voices of ordinary people when it doesn’t suit their agenda. We saw it happen in the Christopher America match.   We’re seeing it now.

Blaire Moise: Joe, I know just how much you disappointed with what happened in the Christopher America match.

Joe shakes his head.

Joe Bergman: Disappointed, Blaire?  No… frustrated but not surprised.  As I’ve said before, The Board had an agenda and they made sure they got the match result they wanted.  We move on and move forward to tonight’s match.  Xander Azula and I are going to have our work cut out for us going up against Tyler Adrian Best and Jace Parker Davidson.

Blaire Moise: Last week, you announced that Xander would be training with you at Bergman’s Barn for War Games.

Joe Bergman: That’s right. Xander came in this week and we’ve been working hard in training down at the Barn.  Xander is determined to improve his in-ring performance and show that he can wrestle as well as compete in the HOFC.  I’ve been giving him suggestions, helpful hints, and added a couple things here and there, but Xander’s the one who is doing the work.  Hopefully we’ll see the results later on in the show and an improved Xander Azula inside the ring here tonight.

Blaire Moise: You’ve had a chance to see Tyler Adrian Best up close at MVW.

Joe Bergman: I have.  Like his father, Tyler Best was blessed by the gods with wrestling ability that those of us in the bottom end of the wrestling gene pool can only dream of possessing.  Tyler has that little intangible… the ‘it’… that separates great wrestlers from the rest of us.  But he’s not wrestling R.G. Jenkins or Buckshot Henderson tonight.  This is the big show and I’m interested to see how Tyler handles himself at this level.

Blaire Moise: You mentioned Jace Parker Davidson’s involvement with The Board earlier?

Joe Bergman: Only because I had to, Blaire.  JPD has become the face of the Board… the arrogant, entitled, selfish, corrupt face of The Board’s transparent attempt to stifle the voices of their opponents at War Games. The Highwaymen take time and give back to the sport that’s made them famous and help the next generation of wrestlers learn the craft.  The Board makes a mockery of it.  Jace parades around in expensive suits, sits in the First-Class section of airplanes, and tries to pretend it’s 2015 all over again when he was actually relevant inside the ring.  Unless Jace can figure out a way to Control-C and Control-V the 2015 edition of JPD to 2022, The ‘King of Everything’ is nothing more than a bland corporate brand of a corporate hack desperately trying to remain relevant.

Blaire Moise: With all that being said, what do you think of your chances of winning tonight?

Joe shrugs.

Joe Bergman: If High Octane Wrestling were a corporately scripted live television program where television characters were expected to execute a planned-out, pre-rehearsed, and pre-determined match, then there’s no doubt that Jace Parker Davidson and Tyler would go over in a heartbeat.  There’s no chance the creative department of a proper corporately run, sports entertainment company would ever write a script putting Joe Bergman and Xander Azula over JPD and Best because it wouldn’t be good for business.

He pauses for a beat.

Joe Bergman: But it’s not scripted, is it.  We’re not laying down for JPD and Tyler Best.  I said it earlier in the week and I’ll say it again… tonight, Joe Bergman and Xander Azula fire the first shot of War Games 2022.  You tell me on paper the Board is just too strong.  I tell you War Games won’t be fought on paper or on reputation alone.  I tell you we won’t let the Corporate Machine chew us up and spit us out.  Once that bell rings… once the action begins… at War Games The Boys are going to go out and fight the Corporate Machine and tonight is where it begins.  Tonight, we deliver a firm message to The Board.

Joe points towards the camera.

Joe Bergman: You will NOT press down upon our brow your corporate crown of thorns.  You will NOT crucify us on your cross of corporate gold.

Bergman turns and walks away from Blaire.  As he returns to his seat, Section 214 bursts into pandemonium and a loud cheer fills up Madison Square Garden.  People throw hats, coats, and empty paper beer cups into the air.

Blaire Moise: All right, that’s all from up here.  Back to you Joe.

Joe Hoffman: Thank you Blaire…..and fittingly I am being told we are pivoting from Section 214 to something I am being told will be very patriotic.

With that the camera cuts away from Joe and to the ring where two men and two women in sharply cut, well made suits stand. 

Brian McVay: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the representatives from the American Foundation of Service and Recognition.

The crowd offers a mixed reaction, wondering where the wrestling is and what’s this about. McVay hands the microphone off to one of the women and climbs out of the ring.

Mrs. Seymour: Thank you, everyone. My name is Bethany Seymour. I’m the founder of the American Foundation of Service and Recognition. Throughout our great country, there are men and women who work, under the radar, to help teach and spread American values to everyone. The great work of these fine individuals deserves recognition.

And so, I am here today to present the “Great American” award to a wrestler who has been nominated by several of the fans around the country, but also by several of his co-workers.

This person is recognized for being both a champion in the ring and out of the ring. They are a former multi-sport athlete. They are a true veteran who has fought on foreign soil for the betterment of America and this fine company. Their work in helping to guide future Americans to be the absolute best that they can be has been exemplary and commendable.

It is with great honor that we look to recognize…

“Remember the Name” by Fort Minor reverberates through the arena…

Joe Hoffman: You’ve got to be kidding me! This has to have been orchestrated by the Board!

…as Christopher America makes his way out in, what can only be described as “an American suit”. Blue jacket with firework like explosions, red pants, white shirt, and the largest grin anyone has ever seen on him. The crowd boos as America makes his way down the ramp, his hands together shaking them in the air, congratulating himself. At the bottom of the ramp, America holds out his arms, welcoming the group from the American Foundation of Service and Recognition. He mouths the words “thank you” before beginning to climb the ring steps.

Mrs. Seymour and the other suits allow America some space as he enters the ring. He taunts the crowd before turning back to the presenters. He then walks to the side of the ring, is handed a microphone, and takes a deep breath. 

Christopher America: You know, since the day I was born, my personal love of America was instilled in me. I learned about all the great and good this country has done and continues to do. And as I grew older, I realized that my love of America was far greater than anyone else’s.

Joe Hoffman: Give me a break.

The crowd boos as America smiles out into the crowd.

Christopher America: I mean, look at you all now, booing this great country, booing these people, as they are about to present your patriotic hero with the Great American award.

America turns towards the presenters.

Christopher America: You know, I’m honored. Truly, truly honored. I’m humbled that these fine folks did their research. I am a multi-sport athlete as I have fought in both professional wrestling bouts as well as HOFC bouts. I’ve been a champion in and out of the ring. Many of you don’t know but I am a former Pog Champion at the American University of America, where I double majored in Americanism and Patriotism, minoring in Eagle Care.

Joe Hoffman: What a humble guy.

The crowd’s boos grow louder trying to drown out America who only speaks EVEN louder.

Christopher America: It is also with great humility that I am recognized for the wars that I have been involved with. The fact that I had to dirty my feet and touch the unholy grounds of places like Normandy, Rome, and Moscow is only made better by the fact that I will soon have to dirty my boots as I touch down on the foreign soils of Kee-yive. Kive? Kevin? No, not Kevin. Whatever it’s called.

I am overjoyed that all the Christopher America fans in the front row, the members of the Board, and undoubtedly many others across this great nation have nominated me.

Although I did not expect this, I have to be honest and say that I’ve prepared for this moment. And so, in the interest of time, I’d like to ask Brian McVay if he could please get the binder I’ve stashed by the timekeeper.

Brian McVay goes to the timekeeper and returns with an American flag D-Ring binder with a four-inch spine. He hands the hefty book to America.

Joe Hoffman: You have to be kidding me, here!

Christopher America: Thank you. If you’ll allow me to begin my speech… I’d like to start at the very, very beginning with my father. When my father…

Mrs. Seymour approaches America and taps him on the shoulder.

Mrs. Seymour: Mr. America, is it?

America waves his hand at her to not bother him.

She taps harder this time before America turns, furious.

Mrs. Seymour: Mr. America, we appreciate the very warm welcome that you and the other members of The Board afforded us today. Your generosity speaks very highly of you and this company. However, we are not presenting the “Great American” award to yourself.

Joe Hoffman: Oh no….

America’s smile falls hard as the crowd cheers.

Mrs. Seymour: Sir, we are recognizing a man who played both football and baseball in high school. A man who has down two tours of duty in Iraq and three tours in Afghanistan.

Joe Hoffman: Oh no!

A slow rumbling begins to rise as it dawns on the fans who is being talked about.

Mrs. Seymour: He’s a former infantryman and Special Forces weapons sergeant before being honorably discharged by the Army, wherein he continued to serve in the National Guard. He currently answers questions and guides the youth of America on this very show.

Joe Hoffman: This could only mean one man…

Mrs. Seymour: He is currently one half of the HOW Tag Team Champions and a member of the Highwaymen, I give you… STEVE SOLEX!

America’s jaw drops as he is incensed at Solex being given this award. He turns to the ramp as “Dad Vibes” by Limp Bizkit hits. The crowd erupts as Solex walks down to the ring, Tag Team title on his shoulder, smiling at America who is frothing at the mouth spewing obscenities and then pleading his case to Mrs. Seymour.

Joe Hoffman: It could only have been Steve Solex, who just last week captured the HOW Tag Team Championship with Clay Byrd bringing the entire set of the Tag Team titles to the Highwaymen’s War Games team.

Solex climbs into the ring as America mouths YOU SON OF A BITCH before charging him, going for the Amber Waves of Pain. Solex drops the Tag Title and easily ducks out of the way. America stops at almost hitting one of the presenters. He turns and eats a boot to the midsection.

Joe Hoffman: SOLEXECUTION!

America falls to the mat and begins rolling out of the ring. He hits the floor hard, holding his face and writhing in pain. Solex looks over the ropes at America and spits at him out of eyeshot of the presenters. He turns to pick up his Tag Team Championship and places it back over his shoulder before shaking hands with each of the presenters.  

Mrs. Seymour places a red, white and blue banded medal over Solex’s neck.  Solex paces around the ring, and throws a fist and the tag team title into the air as ‘Dad Vibes’ by Limp Bizkit picks back up in the arena. The scene fades to commercial as America looks on from the outside floor  in disbelief.

Back live from commercial and we immediately cut ringside….

OOOOOOHHH, OOOOHHH, OOOOOOOOOHHHHHH, HEY! HEY!, HEY! HEY! HEY!

Brian McVay: Introducing first!

The crowd jumps to their feet The New York Rangers goal song hits. The Hardcore Artist makes his way out into the stage dress in his custom #91 New York Rangers jersey and barbed wire hockey stick in hand.

Brian McVay: From New York City, New York!

The crowd cheers wildly as Scottywood stands atop the entrance ramp holding his barbed wire hockey stick high in the air.

Brian McVay: He stands six-feet, five inches tall and weighed in at 265 pounds! He is the Hardcore Artist…..SCOOOOTTTTTYYYYYYYWOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDD!!!!!

Scotty makes his way down to the ramp to an expected ovation from this hometown crowd. He places the hockey stick on the ground, outside of the ring before sliding under the bottom rope.

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood soaking up the ovation from his hometown fans!

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. The crowd erupts in boos as 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.

Brian McVay: And his opponent…

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 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.

Brian McVay: He stands six-feet-seven inches, and weighed in at 295 pounds! He is from Plainview, Texas and is one half of the HOW Tag Team Champions! Ladies and gentlemen…CLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYY BYYYYYYYYRRRRRRRRRRRRRDDDDD!!!!

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.

DING! DING! DING!

Scottywood and the Tag Team Champion lock up in the middle of the ring. Clay uses his thirty pound weight advantage to shove Scotty back into a corner. Referee Joe Hortega starts a count of three as Byrd pushes Scotty’s chin backward, forcing the base of his skull into his spine.

UNO!

DOS!

TRES!

Joe Hoffman: Clay backs off as Hortega gets to the count of three! OH! What a punch from Clay Byrd! And Scotty is down, face first on the floor!

A straight right hand sends Scottywood over the top rope and down to the outside floor. Clay mocks the booing and jeering crowd, before dropping down to the mat and rolling to the outside.

Joe Hoffman: The big man is looking for this to turn into a street fight, and I don’t know if Scottywood would object to that or not!

Byrd grabs ahold of one of Scotty’s ears and pulls the anarchist up to his feet before sending him right back to the floor with a clubbing forearm smash to the back.

UNO!

…

…

Joe Hoffman: Joel Hortega starts to make his count as Clay Byrd punishes Scottywood on the outside.

…

DOS!

…

Scotty gets to a crawl position which creates the perfect opening for a vicious kick to the ribs from the behemoth that flips Scottywood flat on his back.

…

TRES!

…

Joe Hoffman: That size 17 boot just found the mark and could have broken one of Scottywood’s ribs in the process! Clay is in complete control here, early on.

Clay wastes no time and immediately yanks Scottywood back to his feet.

…

QUATRO!

…

Clay drags Scotty over to the ring post, and attempts to thrust Scotty head first into the post, but Scotty puts up a foot stopping himself and Clay.

…

CINCO!

…

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood gets his foot up just before his head his the post, elbow to Clay’s gut! Scottywood with the reversal! NO!

DUNG!!!!!

Clay powers through the reversal and eventually puts Scottywood’s head right into the post and the impact echoes throughout the arena.

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood has been busted wide open!

Blood pours from Scotty’s head and Joel Hortega is forced to stop his count to go outside and check on Scottywood.

Joel Hortega: ¿te rindes?

Joe Hoffman: Hortega asking Scottywood if he gives up and blood covers his face!

Scotty shakes his head no and pushes Hortega away with a hand in the face, but that only creates room for Clay Byrd to land a hard right hand in the open wound that puts Scottywood flat on his back.

Joe Hoffman: What a devastating right hand! Scottywood is down again!

Clay smiles sadistically as he stares at the blood on his fist. The crowd furiously boos as he throws the blood covered fist in the air. Clay pulls Scotty to his feet, plants a big boot right into Scotty’s gut and then hoists the 265 pounder over his head in a gorilla press.

Joe Hoffman: Look at the frightening power of Clay Byrd! Joel Hortega is pleading with Clay Byrd to get this match back into the ring!

Clay obliges and tosses Scotty through the middle rope and into the ring. Scotty rolls on the mat, spreading blood all over, before coming to a stop in the middle of the ring. Clay stomps up the steel steps and climbs into the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Alright, hopefully we can get a wrestling match out of this thing now, but knowing both of these men that seems highly unlikely!

Clay marches toward Scotty, as Scotty crawls to the corner and uses the ropes to get to his feet, but immediately falls backward into the corner. Clay rushes in and puts a running back elbow into the side of Scotty’s head. And then in rapid succession, fires off three more back elbows before backing out of the corner.

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood is in trouble here!

Scotty stumbles out of the corner and right into a boot in the stomach from Clay Byrd that doubles the Ranger’s fan over. Clay pulls Scotty’s head in between his legs and throws Scottywood over his shoulder…

Joe Hoffman: CRUCIFIX BOMB! RIGHT INTO THE CORNER!

The crowd gasps as Scottywood goes head and neck first into the turnbuckle, causing the ring to seemingly scoot six inches from the impact.

Joe Hoffman: Clay makes the cover!

UNO!

…

DOS!

…

TRES!

…

…

Joe Hoffman: NO! KICKOUT AT THE LAST MILLISECOND BY SCOTTYWOOD!

The MSG crowd collectively breathes a sigh of relief as their hometown star gets a shoulder up just in the nick of time. Clay Byrd argues with the referee, but only momentarily before he gets his mammoth sized body back to its feet.

Joe Hoffman: That was a bit to close for this New York crowd!

Clay looks down at Scottywood, before dragging the Hardcore Artist to his feet. Clay pushes Scotty into the ropes and sends him across the ring with an Irish whip.

Joe Hoffman: TEXAS LARIAT! NO! SDT!

Scotty ducks under the Texas Lariat and spikes Clay Byrd headfirst into the center of the ring with a spiked evenflow DDT that pops the New York crowd, most fans jumping to their feet. Scotty slowly gets to his feet and hooks up the feet up Clay Byrd, before flipping the monster from Plainview onto his stomach and hooking up New York Crab and screams out “FUCK BOSTON” to raucous cheers as blood drips down Scotty’s face and into his mouth and streaks down his teet.

Joe Hoffman: New York Crab, in Madison Square Garden! The roof has been blown off the area, this crowd has lost it!

Joel Hortega drops down to the mat to check on Clay Byrd who adamantly refuses to give up and pushes himself up as high as he can, but Scottywood notices the attempted counter and jumps into the air and smashes Byrd back down to the canvas with a sort of butt bomb on the behemoth’s lower back.

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood had that one scouted, but Clay Byrd has reached the ropes!

Scotty was able to force the big man down, but the momentum pushed Clay closer to the ropes than Scotty would have liked and Joel Hortega forces Scotty to reluctantly break the hold. The crowd boos at the referee, as Scotty – still showing the effects of the beating he took – crumbles down to the mat.

Joe Hoffman: Clay is to his feet first, Scottwood needs to get up!

Clay is slow to his feet, but instead of attacking his opponent, he tries to stretch out his lower back as he grimaces in pain in the corner.

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood is able to recover and climbs to his feet!

The crowd cheers as Scotty gets to his feet. He sees Clay in the corner and darts at his opponent. Clay goes for a big boot, but Scotty ducks underneath and hoists himself up onto the second rope and drops Clay in the center of the ring with a perfect flying clothesline.

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood makes the cover!

UNO!

…

DOS!

…

TRE….

Joe Hoffman: Clay Byrd gets his shoulder up, and Scotty is waiting for the monster to get to his feet!

Clay gets to his hands and knees

Joe Hoffman: ICE KICK!

A boot to the side of the head puts Clay Byrd back down flat on his back and Scotty quickly makes the cover as the crowd goes bananas.

UNO!

…

DOS!

…

TRES!

…

Joe Hoffman: NO! Clay Byrd gets his shoulder up, again!

Scotty is clearly frustrated as he pleads his case to Joel Hortega who refutes the New Yorkers arguments in his best English “No!”

Joe Hoffman: What is Scotty doing?!

Scotty drops to the mat and rolls out of the ring. He stomps across the mat on the outside and walks right up to his barbed wire wrapped hockey stick.

Joe Hoffman: What in the world is he thinking?!

Scotty tosses the hockey stick into the ring and rolls back in under the bottom rope. The crowd stands in anticipation and cheers wildly as the Hardcore Artist grabs ahold of his weapon and stalks Clay Byrd as Clay gets to his feet.

Joe Hoffman: NO!

Scotty swings to the barbed wire wrapped hockey stick but Clay Byrd ducks at the very last tick of time and hits the ropes.

Joe Hoffman: Texas Lariat!!!!

But instead of getting all of it, Scotty backed up into the ropes and landed on his feet on the outside of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Clay Byrd needs to get Scottywood back into the ring!

Clay marches over to the ropes and reaches down to pull Scottywood into the ring.

Joe Hoffman: OH MY GOD!!!

DING! DING! DING!

Just as Clay reached over the top rope, Scotty wood swung the hockey stick over the top of his head and blasted Clay Byrd right in the forehead with the barbed wire and Joel Hortega immediately called for the bell.

Joe Hoffman: Clay has been sliced wide open by that barbed wire!

Clay falls flat on his back in the center of the ring as Scottywood looks on from the outside of the ring.

Joe Hoffman: Here comes The Highwaymen!

Right as the bell is rung, Steve Solex, Joe Bergman and Steve Harrison come sprinting out from behind the curtain and down the ramp.

Joe Hoffman: Scottywood better get outta’ dodge!

Bergman slides into the ring to check on his stable mate as Solex and Harrison takes different sides of the ring in an attempt to trap Scotty.

Joe Hoffman: They’ve got him trapped!

Scotty looks like a deer in the headlights, but at the last possible moment he evades capture by hopping over the guard rail and into the rabid crowd. With his hockey stick in hand Scotty sprints up the steps of the arena and out of view as Solex and Bergman point up into the crowd, clearly pissed off.

Joe Hoffman: Clay Byrd will escape with the win here, but Scottywood definitely made the big man pay for it!

Solex and Harrison slide into the ring and attend to Clay Byrd, along with Joe Bergman.

Brian McVay: The winner of this bout, by disqualification….CLLLLLLLAYYYYYYYYYYYY BYYYYRRRRRRRRDDDDD!!!!!

Joe Hoffman: I’m sure this isn’t the way Clay Byrd would have liked to get the win, but a win heading into War Games is a surefire way to build some momentum for himself, The Highwaymen and his War Games team!

The Highwaymen continue to check on Byrd as the scene fades backstage.

Refueled transitions backstage, where HOTv Champ STRONK GODSON and his manager Shelley Greene stand in front of a High Octane Wrestling banner over which “STRONK COUNTRY” has been crudely spray-painted in a combination of reds, whites, and blues.

The build to War Games has instilled in them some nationalistic pride.

Shelley is sporting a neck brace. He claims to have suffered the injury when he slipped on the freshly mopped floor of a Starbucks, but in actuality, his neck’s been rigid and rife with aches and pains ever since STRONK locked him in the first-ever demonstration of the Loop Hold last week.

The NYC fans erupt with cheers at the mere sight of the Stronkest Man Alive. He flexes every muscle in his enormous 300-pound body, makes his pecs dance a bit, and pours another generous serving of baby oil over both himself and the HOTv belt.

Greene: Ladies and gentlemen, it’s been a whiiiiiiiiiile since me and the big man got a little TV time on this show!

STRONK tosses the empty squeeze bottle of baby oil aside, then reaches into his camo fanny pack (which matches his camo MMA shorts) and retrieves a fresh bottle. This one he expends solely on the HOTv Championship. Gotta make sure she shines real nice-like for the camera.

Greene: Usually they just send us out to the ring for ten or so minutes to slaughter some little bitchboy challenger that couldn’t hold Stronk Daddy’s jockstrap. His middle school jockstrap. But someone in the back must’ve come to their senses, because here we are, and we’ve got a message to deliver ahead of War Games. That message is simple. That message is prophetic. That message is…

Greene pauses, stares intensely into the camera.

Greene: We are going to win War Games.

STRONK nods in agreement as though it’s a proven, widely accepted fact, no different than the flatness of the earth or the existence of gravity. In his mind, of course STRONK will win War Games. If not STRONK, then who? It’s a foolish idea to entertain.

Greene: This beautiful Adonis standing next to me is not flying all the way to some bombed-out ghost country, risking his head getting blown off, to have a good first showing. Fuck that! STRONK isn’t enduring cramped international air travel as a ginormous man for second fucking place. And he sure as shit ain’t doing it for third or fourth or fifth or sixth or WHATEVER! STRONK is going to win the whole damn thing. He’s going to take Conor Fuse’s championship and give his HOTv belt a step brother. He’s going to gain fifteen pounds the second he wins the red belt. That’s easy weight!

Shelley takes a beat to allow the “STRONK!” chants to die down. No doubt, if it weren’t for STRONK’s magnetic presence on screen with him, the MSG crowd would be either booing or “WHAT”-ing the ever-loving shit out of Greene. He’s a textbook case of punchable face meets slime-ball personality.

Greene: There you go! There’s your insider information! There’s your spoiler! STRONK wins! Buy the PPV! If you can’t afford the PPV, get a better job! Or stop feeding your stupid kids for a few days and bank some actual paper money! Four days of tap water and dented cans of beans, and that’s fifty bucks right there! There’s simply no excuse for not tuning in to watch the crowning of HOW’s future crossover mainstream star! A sure-thing in life is a very rare occurrence, so take this one to the bank. While the stock market’s in a nosedive, the STRONK market is rising exponentially every single goddamn day! So buy into the Stronk Daddy now and get in on the ground floor! Anything you want to add, champ?

STRONK reaches out to take the mic from Shelley, but Shelley pulls it away at the last second, eliciting jeers from the fans. STRONK looks confused, maybe a bit hurt or at least annoyed, but he doesn’t smash Shelley like he very easily could for the obvious slight because Shelley knows promos better than STRONK and therefore knows what’s best in these types of situations. Greene’s always got things very meticulously planned out in his head.

Greene: Heh, I thought we talked about this off-cam, big man… I talk; you grunt and look scary. Talking ain’t your bag, baby! So I say one more time… you got anything to add, champ?

Stepping into the foreground, STRONK flexes and grunts like a caged animal. But keeps his thoughts and opinions to himself, as instructed.

Greene: We are honoured to be a very important part of Team Best, and we look forward to kicking ass, forgetting names… capturing Conor Fuse’s pretty red belt at War Games! And making Papa Best very, very, verrrrrrrrry proud!

With that, Refueled moves on…

We cut to the outside of Madison Square Garden, where Conor Fuse stands in front of his War Game teammates. There’s also a small collection of fans who’ve realized what’s going on and begin to migrate over as well, although security keeps them at a distance.

Conor looks around and sees lots of angry faces in return. Clay… Solex… Harrison. While Darin Zion is absolutely thrilled, even Simon Sparrow and Xander Azula don’t appear too comfortable.

Conor Fuse: None of you had to actually join me… but you did and I thank you for that.

Although the atmosphere is awkward, The Ultimate War Gamer makes sure he looks directly at a disgruntled Clay Byrd. The Texan shakes his head.

Conor Fuse: Ah you know what, fuck it. Imma tell it like it is.

The Power-Up King turns to Steve Harrison.

Conor Fuse: Did I draft like shit? Who fucking cares. You call yourself to Miracle Man, well buddy, let’s work those fucking miracles. You were the first nail in Arthur Pleasant’s coffin. You showed up and got it done. Congratulations. Continue to prove to the world you’re the LSD Champion.

Fuse eyes Solex next.

Conor Fuse: Dad of the year. What’s the difference between you and I? Not as much as you’d like to think. You get your kicks running ‘Leave it to Stever’. There’s a time and a place for fun, Solex and there’s a time and a place to lace your boots up and pound some fucking skull in. I haven’t seen you on a level like this since I got here. You have totally stepped up your game.

Conor points to Darin Zion.

Conor Fuse: This guy just retired John Sektor. Anything is possible.

The gamer pounds his chest.

Conor Fuse: Every single one of the bEsT tEaM, yeah, they pound their chest, too. But the men standing here can defeat ANYONE over there.

The champion stops to reveal #97 red around his waist. He takes it off and flips it over his shoulder.

Conor Fuse: You want this? We all don’t have to be best friends but the only way TO get this title is to work together. Because Clay, if you think you’re truly better than me… you’ll outlast Conor Fuse and you’ll become the World Champion. But only if we work together, for ONE night. Let’s be real here boys, titles are the only reason every single person is in this match. Last year I was promised “tEaMwOrK” by guys and gals I thought were my friends. But when I was the last one standing… they flaked the fuck out.

Fuse looks around the team one more time.

Conor Fuse: All we gotta do is work together for a few hours. A few hours. And if Clay, you walk out as champion… great. Sparrow, you walk out as champion… great. And if I do, well, it certainly means I wouldn’t have done it alone.

Pause.

Conor Fuse: Anybody here is welcome to the first title match post War Games.

Conor walks right up to Clay Byrd.

Conor Fuse: Like I told you weeks ago, you were right about The Board. I was wrong.

He walks up to Steve Solex.

Conor Fuse: Tongue in cheek when I said I’m the Locker Room Leader…

He walks up to Harrison.

Conor Fuse: You can thumbs me down all you’d like… in July.

And finally, the gamer walks to the center of the group.

Conor Fuse: Recently, I’ve let success get to my head. Maybe I deserve this.

Another pause.

Conor Fuse: Or maybe, just maybe… YOU all deserve something MOAR. Fuck the Best’s and how they abuse the system. Everyone standing here is better than the rotten old nimrod coming back for his cHaOs tOuR. Fuck the GRANDSON, doing the same old shit THE SON did. Fuck Jeffrey James Roberts, Jace Simp Parker Davidson, Christopher America who won’t be here come ICONIC 2022. Our group right here has been around and seen a few things. We’re all capable. So let’s get it done. Game on, boys.

Clay rubs the bandage on his head and checks to see if it’s bleeding through while holding up a finger. Steve Solex is seething, whispering into The Monster’s ear. Clay looks right at Fuse.

Clay Byrd: Kid, I don’t have ta be yer friend ta be on yer team. I ain’t gotta like ya, I ain’t gotta give a damn ‘bout ya. But I do have ta trust ya, and all these little pep rallies like we’re the high school basketball team goin’ ta play fer a state championship. That ain’t how ya earn my trust, ya earn it through actions kid… and ya got a long way ta go ta earn that.

Clay pushes his bloodied hair out of his face again and puts his Stetson on, while Solex whispers to Harrison.

Clay Byrd: And while I know Zion is a lost puppy and will follow anyone into anythin’. Kid, I ain’t gonna trust ya till ya fuckin’ prove it. So come up with a way ta prove it at War Games, and we can talk. Till then, if it makes sense ta save ya in there? I’ll do it. But I ain’t goin’ outta my way. See ya in Kyiv.

The Behemoth tips his cap to the rest of his team, he and Solex walk away. The Professor of Sparrowdynamics points to Clay and the #1 Dad as they exit.

Simon Sparrow: See that? That right there! Clay Byrd, all talk but the truth is, you can try to rally the troops and build all the trust you want, Conor, but let the Rembrandt of Wrestling paint you a little picture. You know what happens when you put the team first? You get punched in the head with brass knuckles, tossed out of the ring, and your teammate, someone you respected and admired, does nothing while a psycho-douche-fuck tries to break your neck with a chair. You were there, Conor. You saw what a team first attitude did for me. This, right here, is a waste of time. Deep down, none of us give a rat’s rectum about trusting one another.

Simon walks up to Conor and pats his shoulder.

Simon Sparrow: I’m in this for myself. I will not get screwed three ways to Sunday this year like I was last year and, if all goes well, I will be the one to eliminate that dimwitted, dunderheaded, steroid chugging, cheating, shit sucking, blunderbuss Stronk! You and I both know that Loop Hold is an illegal chokehold. I am more man than he will ever be! He thinks he can make me feel emasculated?!?!?! Fuck him!!! And fuck the Best Family with a barbed wire Black Mamba sized dildo! When that feeble fuck, Lee Best, decided to resurrect himself and—-

Simon Sparrow catches himself getting more and more worked up and forces a smile as he makes the choice not to continue on his rant.

Simon Sparrow: Anyways, good luck to you, Conor. Love you, man.

Simon Sparrow gives the HOW Champion a quick hug and goes back to the corner from which he came. Meanwhile, Simon’s protege immediately leaps up from his chair in the back of the room. The Owner of Z-Mobile center stage to vent.

Darin Zion: BOO HOO HOO! Listen to that pathetic Texan crying a fucking river. Clay’s exerting some small dick energy. Guess that means everything’s smaller in Texas. That bastard choked in last year’s War Games. Maybe if he persisted like Conor did, he’d have at least held the LSD Championship at this point. That statistic alone should call his sanity into question.

The Zenith of Gen Z folds arms across his chest while he continues his tirade.

Darin Zion: Everyone here should give Conor Fuse the respect he deserves. He’s a two time HOW Champion and former Tag Team Champion. This man DESERVES to lead a War Games team. He outlasted everyone in this fucking room last year.

The passion in Zion’s voice continues to swell while he becomes more animated.

Darin Zion: The Investor of NFZ will make CERTAIN you stake a claim to your futures. You will respect Conor when we get to Kviv. If not, fine, be a fucking pawn in the game. We can step back and let the assholes in the Best Family write your eulogies. Those pathetic BOTS sacrifice will usher in the Greater Good into HOW.

Zion walks back to his chair, tuning the rest of his team’s bickering out. Throwing his Beats headphones on, he blasts “Centuries” by Fall Out Boy on loop to ensure he annoys everyone involved.

Xander Azula: Well, I for one am glad we’re all on the same page.

The head disciple speaks up, a smirk on his face as he looks around at the group. He turns his attention to the captain that remains, and that smirk widens to a grin.

Xander Azula: Hey, remember when half this team faced the other half around this time LAST year? Wild, ain’t it?

The smirk slowly fades away as he stares Conor down.

Xander Azula: Conor, I understand how you must’ve felt last year, and I want you to know why you might’ve thought we flaked on you. I can’t speak for the rest of the Grapplers, but I can speak for myself…I just didn’t care. Not back then, anyway.

He looks at the rest of the group, or at least those who are still here.

Xander Azula: But this year? I look at a motley crew of men that went to war against each other last year, united with a singular goal…shutting Lee Best the hell up. As someone who was on that side of the coin last year, that’s good enough for me.

With that, Xander just smirks again as he finally steps away. Steve Harrison grabs the mic from Xander and before putting it to his lips rubs his LSD Title that he is wearing around his waist. He sighs and then begins.

Steve Harrison: Don’t think I forgot that YOU [Harrison points to Fuse] have already publicly said you hope your BFF Bobbinette Carey defeats me for MY LSD Championship. I know I am on the outside looking in right now but if you truly think that Bobbinette Carey will help this team more then I would then it isn’t your drafting I question… it is your brain.

Steve begins pacing.

Steve Harrison: War Games is first and foremost about The Miracle Man keeping his title and then afterwards I will have The Boys backs. I will never trust you, but I can promise that I will do everything in my power to take down The Board and their annoying games. Freedom in wrestling cannot exist when those in power work against their own employees.

Harrison smirks.

Steve Harrison: It must be killing them that all the belts are on our side and that is what this is all about for them. We work hard while they wish to work less and take everything from us. When I say WE, I mean The Highwaymen, but I suppose being World Champion after defeating Scott Stevens ten times is a feat in its own way right?

Steve frowns as he continues rubbing his title.

Steve Harrison: I have already been on THEIR side, and it wasn’t worth it. It took my knee, it took my money, and it took any semblance of self-worth I had. I don’t do this for the Locker Room Leader or his minions…I do this because I want to systemically take down those assholes. I will walk in a champion, and I will walk out a champion…who knows how many I will have though. Heh.

Steve walks over a few feet away from Conor Fuse and looks him dead in the eyes.

Steve Harrison: When I leave your BFF bloody and beaten for daring to challenge me for my title, will you be able to see it is for the greater good or will I have to watch my own back?

Conor stares at Harrison as The Man of Miracle turns and walks away. Fuse stands there alongside Darin Zion, Xander Azula and Simon Sparrow. Conor cracks his neck while more fans gather outside. Some cheer for Zion, others for Sparrow or Azula. Some even give a !RANK chant.

Conor Fuse: Game on…

With that we cut to our final commercial of the evening.

We are back live and the Madison Square Garden HOW faithful have spent the past few moments milling around the bathroom area and the merchandise stalls but the dimming of the lights brings the entire crowd back rushing to their seats, ready for the main event of the evening. As everyone starts to take their place, we cut to Joe Hoffman at ringside.

Joe Hoffman: When Lee Best returned at Refueled 97, he upset a lot of people in his changes to the War Games match but despite the shuffling of teams, the bombshell dropped at the end of the show, that Mike Best’s son, Tyler Adrian Best, had secured a place on The Board’s War Games team… that turned a lot of heads. Tonight, the Grandson of GOD teams with one of his father’s long term allies, Jace Parker Davidson to take on Joe Bergman and Xander Azula.

“HERE WE ARE.

BORN TO BE KINGS.

WE’RE THE PRINCES OF THE UNIVERSE”

The opening moments of Queens “Princes of the Universe” is blasted from the MSG speaker system but quickly fades away, replaced by “War Child” by Hollywood Undead. The lights in the arena dim, as “T A B” flashes across the HOV in bright gold letters. The letters suddenly begin to drip 97Red, as Tyler Adrian Best steps out from behind the curtain, a big smug smile is smitten on his smooth face.

Bryan McVay: The following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall and is tonight’s MAIN EVENT. Introducing first, weighing in tonight at one hundred and eighty one pounds, he makes his HOW in-ring debut tonight, TYLERRRR ADRIAN BEEEEEEEEEST!

Joe Hoffman: It seems like Tyler wanted to start tonight’s main event with a little nod to HOW history with the Project EGO theme song. I wonder if his partner tonight will appreciate that little tip of the hat. Still, I have to wonder how the nerves are treating this young talent, making his debut in the main event, standing in the middle of an historic wrestling arena. It’s a lot for a young man.

TAB starts slowly making his way out onto the stage and staring out into the sea of fans. He gestures to the crowd as he saunters down the ramp, rolling under the ropes and getting up to his feet once he’s in the ring. The camera quickly cuts to The Board’s private box, which for the first time in weeks contains the HOW Commisioner, Cecilworth Farthington. The camera cuts back to Tyler in the ring, who goes up onto the turnbuckle, appealing to the crowd before coming down into his corner, stretching before the match begins.

Joe Hoffman: It looks like Commissioner Farthington has decided he wants to keep an eye on tonight’s actions. He has been one of the array of legends working at the TEN-X facility to get Tyler ring ready, so I imagine he’s keeping an eye on his charge.

“War Child” fades away as 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. The sound of Kingdom by Jaxson Gamble begins to blare as 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. Jace looks out at the crowd and soaks in the reception before locking arms with Madison.

Bryan McVay: And his partner… from Miami, Florida, weighing in tonight at two hundred and forty four pounds, he is a HOW Hall of Famer and member of The Board… JACE. PARKER. DAVIIIIIIDSONSON!

Joe Hoffman: Since returning to active competition with his match against Scottywood, it’s been clear that Jace Parker Davidson has not lost a step and tonight he’ll be looking to send a message to his War Games opponents that he is not a talent to be looked over. You do have to wonder what his feelings are about the Grandson of GOD just being rewarded a spot when he had to fight for his…

Jace and Madison make their way down the ramp slowly as fans reach over the barricade trying to touch the duo. Madison takes her place at ringside as Jace slides under the bottom rope to enter the ring. Jace pops to his feet and makes his way over to the nearest corner and climbs the turnbuckle to pose for the crowd. Jace hops down off the turnbuckle and gives TAB a quick once over. A smile cracks on Jace’s smile as he pats the young talent on the back, commenting that he enjoyed his choice of entrance.

Joe Hoffman: It’s all smiles on the corporate side of the main events, we’ll have to wait until the action gets going to see if that holds.

The opening bars of the Hollywood Vampires cover of David Bowie’s classic song ‘Heroes’ plays over the Best Arena sound system. Joe Perry’s guitar licks sear through the air, Tommy Hendrikson’s chugging guitar, Chris Wyse’s bass holding down the fort, and Glen Sobel pounding drumbeat rocks the arena and amps the crowd.as the fans- especially Section 214- rise to their feet.

“I. I will be king.”

Joe Bergman steps out on stage and as Johnny Depp’s vocals echoes throughout the arena,

“And you. You will be queen.”

The self-proclaimed ‘One True Queen of Professional Wrestling’ Sunny O’Callahan walks out with her red and green Queen’s crown perched on top of her head and a long, flowing red and green cape trailing behind. She joins up with Bergman on the stage.

“Though nothing will drive them away.”

Bergman and O’Callahan look out at the crowd and take it all in.

Bryan McVay: And their opponents, first, making his way to the ring at his time accompanied by Sunny O’Callahan, hailing from Plattin, Missouri, he weighs in tonight at two hundred and sixteen pounds… JOE BERGMANNN!

Joe Hoffman: You have to imagine that Sunny O’Callahan is a powerful neutraliser for Madison at ringside. I can imagine that the shenanigan quotient of this match will deal with itself.

“We can beat them, just for one day”

After Depp finishes up the first verse of the song, the crowd- already singing along with Captain Jack Sparrow- turns up the volume at the chorus when Joe raises his arms up in the air.

“WE CAN BE HEROES!”

“JUST FOR ONE DAY!”

Joe Hoffman: The Madison Square Garden fans clearly enjoying the entrance of the former World Champion, Joe Bergman. It’s starting to feel like a bit of a rock concert.

The camera quickly cuts to Commissioner Farthington in the box watching the match, he remarks to one of the people sitting nearby “I murdered that guy with a toilet once.” The camera cuts back to Bergman climbs up on the ring apron and opens the ropes so Sunny can climb in.

“We can be heroes… just for one day…”

Joe then leaps over the top rope into the ring and goes to a corner turnbuckle. Sunny walks around the ring spurring the fans on.

“We can be heroes… just for one day…”

Sunny points at Joe as he raises a can of PBR towards the people in Section 214.

Joe Hoffman: Joe Bergman is showing that he’s ready for action. Tonight is going to be a test to see how far his mentorship and guidance has given Xander Azula direction as he walks the road to Ukraine. I have to imagine the messy situation with almost murdering Joe Bergman’s soon to be ex-wife may have been a little bit of a bump there.

The whistling intro of “Engel” plays over the PA system, setting the crowd off in a mixture of cheers and boos as Xander Azula and his Eternal Circle disciples step out onto the stage, surveying the crowd with a gleeful grin.

Bryan McVay: And his partner, fighting from Long Beach, California, he weighs in tonight at two hundred and twenty nine pounds… XANDER AZUUUUULA!

Joe Hoffman: Xander Azula made relatively easy work of former World Champion Brian Hollywood in the HOFC cage last week. He’s had a lot of trouble transferring that fighting talent into in-ring success and perhaps by showing up the Grandson of GOD and The Board’s Jace Parker Davidson he might start turning more heads.

Some of the crowd are still clearly displeased with Azula and friends, who simply laugh at the ignorance they see as they head toward the ring. Xander directs his disciples to circle around the ring, and they all hop onto the apron with wicked smiles on their faces. They enter the ring (either to intimidate Xander’s opponent or to wait for the opponent), before Xander directs his crew to leave the ring. As Xander’s crew disperses, referee Matt Boettcher keeps an eye on the situation before he calls for the bell.

Ding ding

As Boettcher signals for the bells, both teams immediately go to their corners for a quick conference with each other. After a few seconds of brief discussions it becomes clear that TAB and Xander Azula are going to start the contest, as JPD and Joe Bergman take to their respective corners. As Azula turns around to face TAB, TAB rushes forward and jumps at Azula, flipping him over and taking hold of Azula’s arm. The two men struggle back and forward for a few moments but Xander manges to push free of Best. TAB gives a small smile as Azula tries to regain his bearings. Matt Boettcher separates the two men for a clean break. TAB moves in for a second time but Xander Azula is ready the second time around, quickly lifting the Grandson of GOD up and over with a snap vertical suplex. TAB clutches his back in pain but manages to scramble back to his feet, eating a second vertical suplex for his troubles. This time, Azula floats over and goes for a pin.

ONE!

TWO!

Joe Hoffman: Tyler Adrian Best manages to kick out with authority at two! Clearly Xander Azula is looking to test what this new talent is made of, but right now, TAB has given him his answer.

TAB rolls out of Azula’s clutch and right towards his side of the ring, tagging in Jace Parker Davidson, who quickly jumps into the action. He rushes to the slightly distracted Azula and begins firing off a series of elbows just under the jaw of Xander, rocking him backwards towards the ropes. As Xander nears the ropes, JPD grabs him and whips him with authority, sending him rebounding. JPD waits for Xander to return near him, drilling Azula in the gut with a knee. The force of the whip and the knee turn Azula inside out, and he crumbles down on the mat. JPD takes this opportunity to grab Azula by the leg, innovating a DDT-style move that drills Azula’s knee straight into the mat. He goes for it a second time but this time, Azula manages to get to the ropes and Boettcher steps in to separate the action.

Joe Hoffman: Surprising quick tag action by JPD and TAB so keep up the offense on Xander Azula and give the Grandson of GOD time to recover. Almost the actions of a veteran. Clearly TAB is showing what training with TEN-X can do with natural talent.

Azula uses the ropes to pull himself back up and is near enough to his corner to be able to tag Joe Bergman into the action. Which he dutifully does. Bergman and Jace tie up in the middle of the ring and Bergman is able to shift his weight to push JPD towards the ropes. As JPD loosens his grip from the tie up, Bergman is able to drill a few shots to the gut of the King of Everything. Jace gasps for air as he is met with a spinning heel kick by Bergman. The kick sends JPD into the ropes and as the ropes push him back, Bergman leaps up and takes JPD down with a powerful Frankensteiner. Somewhere, a mullet man weeps a single tear of joy. JPD scrambles back up and is met with a second Frankensteiner, this time Bergman rolls through and hooks both legs in snug. Boettcher quickly checks for the count.

ONE!

TWO!

Joe Hoffman: And JPD manages to break free before the count of three! Fast offense here by the former World Champion Joe Bergman and I think that may have taken the King of Everything by surprise.

Bergman stands in the ring ready for round two, but Jace waves him off and tags back in TAB. Joe Bergman seems a little bit amused by the situation but invites TAB to join the fight. TAB looks over at the man he has passing familiarity with and carefully decides what his next move should be. He looks at his team’s corner and sees a small bottle of baby oil sitting near where JPD stands. He considers the bottle for a brief moment and decides instead to punt the bottle into the third row, while yelling “FUCK NEW YORK”, which doesn’t necessarily go down too well with the Madison Square Garden crowd. While the young athlete is hot dogging, he seems to have forgotten his experienced opponent standing in the middle of the ring, who gently taps TAB on the shoulder to refocus his attention. TAB spins around and immediately shoots at Joe Bergman for a double leg takedown but Bergman is able to block it by applying force downwards.

Joe Hoffman: Tyler Adrian Best has definitely got speed but when you’re in the ring with veterans of the sport, you need more than speed, you need tactics.

A frustrated TAB pulls himself back up as Joe Bergman challenges him to try it again. The Grandson of GOD is successfully goaded by Bergman but rather than shooting down, he flips Bergman down to ground with a judo toss. Bergman rolls through and immediately back up to his feet, which results in a second judo toss from TAB, with similar results, though Bergman starts to move slower on the second roll through. Instead of trying for the third, TAB leaps up as Bergman lunges at him, drilling Bergman under the jaw with a picture perfect dropkick that finally floors the former World Champion. With Bergman grounded, TAB considers his next move and elects for something flashy. He leaps up at the middle rope and leans backwards, lands a beautiful moonsault right on top of Joe Bergman. TAB hooks the leg immediately for the cover.

Joe Hoffman: The young Best is showing that he may not have experience but he has resilience and speed and damn it, that may just be good enough to get the job done.

ONE!

TWO!

Bergman manages to break free before Xander Azula reaches to the two to break the pin. TAB is unaware that Azula has joined the action and gets a knee to the back of the skull as a consequence. Matt Boettcher is quick to take action, guiding Azula back to his corner, which he dutifully does, satisfied at the damage inflicted. TAB clutches his neck in pain and rolls back over to his corner, successfully tagging in JPD. On the other side of the ring, Bergman is clawing his way towards Azula, looking to also try and make a tag. JPD gets to Bergman first though and grabs him by the leg, bringing him back to his feet. Bergman hops up and down for a few seconds but manages to roll through and hit JPD with a second spinning heel kick, right to the chest of the King of Everything. JPD goes down as he gasps for air and Bergman manages to successfully tag in his partner.

Joe Hoffman: Both teams have shown remarkable chemistry considering they are not usually partners. Ring awareness, quick tags… you’d swear you were looking at two established teams here in the Madison Square Garden main event.

JPD slowly starts to move from Bergman’s spin kick but Azula doesn’t let up the advantage, jumping down and drilling Jace with a chop block that sends him crumbling back to the mat. Jace screams in pain and frustration and retaliates by punching Xander right in the knee that he’d DDT’d earlier in the match. Azula’s face scrunches up in pain but it doesn’t deter his mission. He hoists Jace up and lifts him high in the air with a stalling vertical suplex. Azula keeps trying to position himself to get a tighter grip on the King of Everything but clearly looks pained. The fans start to count as he keeps Jace sky high.

ONE!

TWO!

THREE!

FOUR!

FIVE!

SIX!

Joe Hoffman: An impressive display of power by Xander Azula here but he is struggling to keep hold of Jace.

SEVEN!

EIGHT!

The counting comes to a very sudden stop as Azula’s knee buckles, dropping him down to one knee and loosening his grip on JPD. JPD starts to crash down to the mat but is able to position himself to land smoothly on both feet on his way down. The Hall of Famer takes measure of the situation that he finds himself in and sees that Azula is still down, favouring his knee. He knows that he has very little time, so JPD launches himself up at Azula and brings his boot down upon Azula’s skull with the “Bend the Knee”. Azula’s face becomes very up close and personal with the ring mat and JPD rolls him over for the cover.

ONE!

TWO!

Joe Hoffman: Bend the Knee! Jace was quick enough to take action and Azula is looking out of it. Where is Joe Bergman? Is he going to be able to break the pin?

THREE!

Ding ding ding

As the bell rings, the cameras immediately cut to a replay that sees TAB leaps off his apron, with Boettcher distracting and blocking Bergman’s visibility. As Jace hits the “Bend the Knee”, TAB has managed to sneak himself behind Bergman and pulls him from the apron. Bergman lands easily on both feet, looking ready to fight TAB but then hears Boettcher slapping the mat. He quickly tries to slide into the ring but it’s too late.

Bryan McVay: Here are your winners at a time of thirteen minutes and twelve seconds… JACE PARKER DAVIDSON AND TYLER ADRIAN BEST!

Joe Hoffman: A combination of experience in the ring and underhanded tactics outside have brought the victory to Jace Parker Davidson and Tyler Adrian Best here at Madison Square Garden. Is this final shot before War Games predictive of the future? We’ll only find out in Ukraine. We’ll see you there!

As the camera slowly starts to fade away, we see Matt Boettcher raise the hand of Jace Parker Davidson in the ring. Boettcher is clearly looking for TAB, who has started throwing fists back and forth with Bergman on the outside. The EPU rushes in to quickly break up the action as JPD basks in victory.

Joe Hoffman: The EPU did not waste anytime here folks…there will be NO all out brawl tonight….no matter how badly everyone wants to see the two war games teams go at it……The Best Family and The Board are protecting their interests and we will have to wait till War Games to see what undoubtedly will be a bloodbath like none other. Till then….thank you everyone for tuning in live on High Octane Television…we will see you at WAR GAMES!!!!!!

The show comes to a close as we see the cameras zoom in on Jace who gives his Best smirk to the hard camera as Refueled comes to an end.

The door explodes open as a body is seen flying thru it and the body thuds loudly on the cold concrete here in this makeshift office deep inside the hallowed halls of MSG.

A very large man, a wall if you will, slowly makes his way thru the door and smiles down at the damage he just inflicted.

“THERE he is…..”

The camera cuts to the far side of the room where we see the GOD of HOW, now standing, behind his well traveled mahogany desk.

“Pick that motherfucker up”

The large man, clearly known better as the fourth generation Wahl, nods and pulls the crumpled and unconscious man to his feet. He holds the limp body up by the throat and rears back and smacks the man across the face.

The force of the blow snaps the man’s head back and we finally realize the identity of the man feeling the damage of the 4^th Wahl and GOD of HOW……..

John Sektor.

Lee walks up to the Hall of Famer and motions for Wahl to hold his smack him again……..and one giant backhand later……….Sektor’s eyes open up slowly…..and then grow wide as he realizes the situation.

Lee puts a finger to his lips and motions for Sektor to stay quiet.

“You have not had shit to say the last couple weeks….why start now John? You know why you are here and you know what has to be done. Do not pretend like this is a surprise”.

Sektor’s eyes go from shock and surprise to an expression of rage and then quickly resignation.

“That a boy. Let’s make this short and sweet shall we?”

Lee pauses and waits for Sektor to respond…..and the man does with a simple nod.

“Good……..now let me just whip this out…”

Lee reaches into his vest pocket and pulls out THAT pen.

Sektor’s eyes grow wide with fear as Lee clicks the end of the Bottomline pen……

WHACK

One jumping knee strike OUT OF NOWHERE later and Sektor crumples backwards once again crumpling to the cold concrete unconscious.

Lee smiles at the man and pulls a piece of paper out of his pants pocket and extends the pen and paper to the man.

“Do not waste this opportunity. You wanted Fuse. You got him. Now…..RISE UP and seize the moment….or it will be you on the ground the next time we meet.”

The man turns back towards Lee and nods. He snatches the paper from Lee’s hand and then the Bottomline pen…which causes him to pause momentarily……but then quickly signs his new contract.

“Welcome to War Games. Welcome to Team Best”.

Lee shakes the man’s hand and then turns and walks away with the 4^th Wahl in tow.

The camera stays on Lee until he exits the room and disappears from view.

We then get a final view of Sektor laid out and the man that did it.

David Noble