WorldWide 104

US Airways Center | Phoenix, Arizona | January 11 2009



THe GCW logo flashes on the screen. After a few seconds, it fades out and into a sold out Arizona crowd on their feet screaming. The camera's pan around the arenan before a major guitar riff sets off two gigantic blue pyros at the top of the stage. The ever-so-infamous Worldwide theme blares over the public announce system while the arena fills with smoke from exploding pyrotechnics. The noise is absolutely deafening.

Bryan: We're only one week away from the grandest show of them all, NC-17, and this crowd is kicking us off with a bang! Welcome, everyone, to Global Championship Wrestling Worldwide 104! I'm James Bryan alongside the Devious David Yale.

Yale: Always a the cleverest of introductions from you, JB.

Bryan: I certainly try to do you justice, Dave!

Yale: But enough of this introduction nonsense, how about the show we have in store for tonight?

Bryan: We're going to see GCW and Establishment newcomer Brian Fisher in singles action for the first time when he battles The Aristocrats' Jagi.

Yale: You can't forget who will be in each of their corners. Tyson and Rufio!

Bryan: These two teams are all set to battle each other next week at NC17, so one has to wonder if we'll get a bit of a preview here tonight!

Yale: And what about Garbage Bag Johnny defending the United States title against Clyde Fox?

Bryan: Clyde Fox has been on the brim of capturing the United States Championship for several months now, but has constantly been held back by one thing or another -- most notably his alliance with Chris Bagwell. A victory here tonight could give the former US champion Tessa Windsor a little more motivation when she battles Clyde at the pay-per-view.

Yale: Can't ignore the fact that GBJ is still undefeated and is all set to square off against Zacharia Taylor at NC17. If there's one thing he wants more than to recapture the US title, its to end Johnny's undefeated streak!

Bryan: Speaking of streaks, Andy Murray has held one of the hottest ones in GCW as he's launched himself towards the top of the show and tonight he looks to continue his impressive record when he battles the American Dream winner Jacob McKail.

Yale: McKail isn't the American Dream holder for nothing, JB. And if I know anything about The Establishment, Jay Terror is going to have a vested interest in trying to soften up Andy Murray as much as possible before their big match.

Bryan: And their match will be one of three main events at NC17, possibly alongside a Vivica J. Valentine and Chris Bagwell matchup.

Yale: Valentine is in action here tonight against Face while Bagwell takes the night off. If you ask me, Bagwell is going to continue his reign of Terror until Commissioner Zenith grants him that match against Vivica.

Bryan: Valentine has expressed significant interest in wanting to square off against Bagwell at NC-17 and shut him up once and for all. Rumors are afloat that she'll be approaching Commissioner Zenith tonight in a rally to get her match signed officially.

Yale: Well I think she better worry about Face, first, who has been training for a war with Vivica's close friend Lia Ambrosi next week.

Bryan: It's shaping up to be the perfect segway into the greatest pay-per-view event of the year and what better way to close than with our World Champion.

Yale: Jordan White has been rumored to be defending his Championship tonight, only a week away from his match with LeStatt Knight, and I have to wonder who he'd possibly be getting in the ring with.

Bryan: For Jordan's sake, I hope he gets off easy tonight because LeStatt Knight is going to be one trying match for the champion. I'd love to see him go into it 100%.

Yale: Lets get this thing on a roll!

Bryan: Welcome to Worldwide, ladies and gentlemen!

Back to Top


The Megatron cuts from the ring to outside the arena. There are people all over the place going in and out of the different entryways. A paranoid Garbage Bag Johnny makes his way into the frame, looking over his shoulder and tightening the grip on the gym bag slung over his shoulder.

Bryan: Well, look who we have here entering, it’s the United States Champion, Garbage Bag Johnny. Looking dapper as always.

Yale: I’m curious to see what will become of him tonight in his match with Clyde, and not to mention, his best friend Zacharia Taylor after that whole scene at 103.

Bryan: It will be . . . oh, here we go!

The Diamond of the Dumpster looks over his shoulder again, straightens up and frantically runs into the open door, the camera looking behind slightly before running after GBJ. The shaky cam catches a glimpse of the former United States Champion, Zacharia Taylor getting off a bus before following Garbage Bag Johnny.

Yale: I haven't quite figured out what's going on here, but it doesn't bode well for our schizoid U.S. Champ.

Bryan: You've got to believe that Jacob McKail is taking note of Johnny's franticness as of late.

Johnny makes his way into the hall and looks both ways. He jumps into a utility cabinet and closes the door most of the way, leaving a sliver to see through. The camera pans around the hall; then goes into a utility closet, parroting Johnny, and peeks the lens into the hall.

Zacharia Taylor walks into the hall and stops. He looks right at Garbage Bag Johnny, and Johnny closes the door all the way. He turns around and looks over his shoulder. He tightens his fists and lets them release, just to make it into a fist again. Taylor walks away at a quick pace.

Bryan: Something is clearly on his mind, David. You can see the frustration in . . .

Yale: He was set up to be tortured last week, and now his torturer is hiding from him!

Bryan: He told him to do it to him to keep the match on for NC-17!

Our fiendishly filthy friend slides carefully out of the cabinet and walks into the hall and watches Taylor walk to the end of the hall when Taylor absolutely flips out.

Garbage Bag Johnny: The fuck?

Bryan: What is going on?

Yale: Taylor’s really unhappy about something!

Taylor punches a closet door, knocking it off the hinges. He then turns to the wall and punches it, but yells at it shaking his hand and walks down the hall. Garbage Bag Johnny looks on cautiously but hearing a noise behind him, Johnny turns and darts into the closet with the cameraman.

Garbage Bag Johnny: You got a rubber-band?

Staying true to the cameraman code of ethics, the cameraman doesn't respond. Cameramen should be seen and not heard, but not seen by other cameramen.

Garbage Bag Johnny: It's the cops, you idiot. If they find me they're going to shake me down, but if I rubber-band the baggie behind my bindles, they'll never find it.

Radios doppler by as five police officers make their way into the hallway. They walk past the closet and walk down the hall. The cameraman gets out of the closet, but Garbage Bag Johnny closes the doors behind him, peeking through the crack.

Bryan: What is this all about?

One of the police officers stops one of the arena personnel.

Police Officer: Have you seen this man?

The officer holds up a drawing of a man with long hair, or is it a hood? The cabinet doors behind the cameraman slam closed by volition of .the cabinet's inhabitant.

Police Officer: He’s not wrestling tonight, but his name is Zacharia Taylor. Have you seen him?

Bryan and Yale: WHAT?!?!?

Arena Worker: He went down the hall and to the right, officer.

The police run down the hall and turn to the right.

Bryan: What is this all about?

Yale: Can someone please find something out? Anyone?

Bryan: That’s a lot of police work for one guy!

Yale: Wow, and right at the start of the show, no less. We will keep everyone posted on what is going on through the show!

Back to Top


"Ultimate Remix" by Jarrid Mendelson starts up causing the crowd to start booing before Dan Black can even come out. It doesn’t take long, however, for Dan and Mr. Danger to step through the curtains and face the fans. The boos get even louder for them as they walk down toward the ring. Marching up the steel steps, they demand a microphone from one of the ring hands. Dan, with microphone in hand, waits for a moment for the crowd to silence itself.

Black: Today, you people are able to witness history in the making. Because today, you have before you the greatest Television Champion in GCW history!

The crowd hisses and Dan laughs at their disapproval.

Black: I have effortlessly decimated Zacharia Taylor’s record, and I did it with far more title defenses under my belt than he has ever had. I have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that compared to me, every other man in the Television Title division, especially Axel, are nothing more than a bunch of pathetic losers!

Mr. Danger nods in agreement as Dan continues.

Black: I’m going to go ahead and guess that you miserable pieces of shit were just ecstatic to see Axel turn on me during my match for the US title, and help Garbage Bag Johnny pin me.

The crowd roars its agreement causing Dan Black to scowl angrily at the audience.

Black: Now I could go on and on about the unfairness of it all, but I won’t since you people don’t have the attention span to follow along. So instead, I came going to lay out, in as many small words as possible, just what is going to happen tonight and at NC-17. I am going to begin by making a momentous announcement. The Movement has officially disbanded.

The crowd cheers and Dan waits for them to subside.

Black: I am done dealing with greedy subordinates and incompetent lackeys. I am done allowing them to ride the coattails of my success. I care only about one thing, my career. Mr. Danger here has wisely seen the future of GCW, and will act as my manager so I do not have to deal with the corporate assholes of this company. Furthermore in a few minutes Axel has a match against my friend here, Mr. Danger.

Mr. Danger smirks as the crowd directs their boos towards him. He casually waves at them, making his contempt for the fans clear.

Black: Axel is shortly going to learn why it’s a bad idea to cross me. It’s not because he lost his only chance to advance in this company. It’s not because he has fated himself to forever be stuck at the very bottom of the GCW roster. It’s because, if he makes it to NC-17, I am going to beat him so badly that he will retire out of complete and utter shame. But he may not make it to NC-17, because I have every confidence that tonight Mr. Danger here will demolish Axel, proving that he’s unworthy to even be on a pay-per-view event.

Dan stands silently staring out at the people for a moment, before an idea visibly comes to him. He grins delightedly, making the crowd wonder what’s going to happen.

Black: Since their match is just about to start I am going to provide everyone with an amazing opportunity. You are all going to get to hear me, provide commentary for this match, so an educated voice can explain why Mr. Danger is kick Axel’s ass.

Dan drops the mic and gets out of the ring, while Danger waits for Axel to come out.

Back to Top

Yale: What a treat, JB! Dan Black’s going to join us for commentary!

Bryan: Oh, goody. Is there even enough room at the table for his ego? Anyway, our next match-up, folks, is going to be between Dan Black’s manager and friend, Mr. Danger, and his ex-friend and comrade, AXEL Action. It appears that Mr. Danger is already waiting in the ring for him.

Black: I’m going to enjoy watching Mr. Danger soften AXEL up for me, even though I don’t need him to do so. After all, as of tonight, I’ve surpassed Zachariah Taylor’s TV Championship reign, effectively making me the greatest GCW Television Champion of all time. My Brazilian Jiu-jitsu will be more than enough to take care of that jabroni.

Andrews: Already standing in the ring, standing six feet, two inches tall and weighing in at two-hundred and thirty-five pounds; He hails from Kansas City, Missouri, he is Mr. Danger!

The opening to "Waiting for the Heavens" by Eighteen Visions begins to play over the in-house audio system. The lights dim and the outline of a man in a hooded robe emerges from behind the curtain to rather mixed reaction from the fans. As the first strain of that driving riff hits, he thrusts his arms out to the side and throws his head back in a crucifix pose as pillars of flame explode along the perimeter of the stage.

Andrews: On his way to the ring, standing at six feet, two inches tall and weighing in at two-hundred and twenty-five pounds; He comes to you from Hollywood, Florida… He is AXEL Action!

In the light of the fire, the robe is shown to be black in color with intricate red designs that bear silver linings. He flips the hood back to reveal himself as none other than The Unholy One, himself, Axel Action. He saunters to the ring with a look of determination on his face and a purpose in his step. He climbs the ring steps and makes his way onto the apron, turning to face the crowd. AXEL thrusts his arms out to the sides once more before entering the ring and removing his robe.

The two men stare each other down from across the ring, and if looks could kill, well, Mr. Danger would have died at that moment. GCW referee, Hal Jenkins signals for the bell to start the match, and immediately, the two men make their way to the middle of the ring, standing chest to chest, nose to nose. It’s quite obvious by the way their heads and lips are moving that the two are talking smack back and forth to one another.

Bryan: There’s a bit of trash talk going on between the two men in the ring.

Yale: Mr. Danger’s probably giving AXEL his last rites before he ends The Unholy One’s career, JB.

Black: No, no. That won’t happen tonight, guys. After all, Mr. Danger’s assured me that the pleasure of ending AXEL’s career is all mine.

AXEL ends all of the smack talk with a stiff knife-edge chop to Mr. Danger’s chest that echoes throughout the arena. Danger howls in pain, clutching at his chest, but AXEL stays on the offensive by clocking him in the jaw with a big right hand that makes him drop his hands. Another stiff chop resounds through the arena, followed by another, then another, forcing Danger into the corner, where he leans over and sticks his upper half out between the ropes. This forces Jenkins to insert himself into the fray, as per the rules. AXEL backs away with his hands in the air, signifying a clean break, only to get met with a poke to the eyes from Danger.

Yale: What a move! That just goes to show that AXEL Action is just as dumb as we all think he is.

Bryan: I don’t think he’s dumb at all, Dave. In fact, I had a conversation about Quantum Physics with him earlier today. He’s an avid admirer of Einstein’s work.

Black: Einstein, Schmeinstein! He shares one thing in common with AXEL Action, and that is the fact that they’re both completely out of their minds! Especially AXEL, if he thinks he even stands a chance of taking my GCW Television Championship at NC-17.

AXEL stumbles away from the corner, clutching at his eyes in agony though the sound of laughter escapes his lips. He stands tall, his piercing blue eyes locking onto Mr. Danger, staring daggers through him, figuratively speaking. The Unholy One turns his back to Danger, putting his arms out at his sides, offering him a free shot. Danger shrugs, looks around, then takes a running start towards AXEL, only to be turned inside out when AXEL spins around and nearly takes his head off with a Decapitation lariat seemingly from out of nowhere! He’s not finished yet, however, as he drags Danger to his feet by the hair and tucking his head under his arm. He takes hold of Danger’s arm, draping it over the back of his own neck before hooking his tights and taking him over with a quick Snap Suplex. Taking a running start, AXEL bounds off the ropes and plants a quick elbow drop right to the sternum of Danger.

Bryan: It seems that AXEL’s making quick work of Mr. Danger, tonight. What do you make of this, Dan?

Black: What do I make of this? Absolutely nothing. After all, Mr. Danger’s just toying with him, you know, luring him into a false sense of security.

Yale: Exactly, JB! Mr. Danger is a tenured veteran of this sport and he knows all of the ins and outs, and all of the tricks. He’s just making AXEL think he’s got him down for the count.

AXEL bounds off the ropes once more, planting another quick elbow drop to Danger’s chest, causing Danger to cry out in pain and clutch his chest, rolling out of the ring to regroup. Danger makes his way over to the announce table, and Dan Black removes his headset and steps off to the side to regroup with Danger. AXEL stands tall in the middle of the ring, watching the two as the corners of his lips curl into a rather devious grin. He builds up a head of steam, so to speak, and bounds off the ropes that are facing Danger and Black, then bounds off of the opposite ropes. Oddly enough, he doesn’t stop there. In fact, he bounds off the adjacent ropes again, then off of the opposite ropes once more before he launches himself over the top rope, every part of his body clearing the ropes as he comes crashing down onto Danger and Black, taking them both out.

Bryant: MY GOD! What a BEAUTIFUL plancha! He took them both out, Dave!

Yale: Dan! Mr. Danger! Are you okay?!

AXEL snatches Danger up to his feet and rolls him into the ring before following him in. He lifts Danger to his feet and pulls him in, draping and arm over Danger’s neck before draping one of Danger’s arms over his own neck. AXEL points to the sky, signifying that he’s going to take him up vertical, and take him up, he does. AXEL walks out to the middle of the ring before throwing his feet out from under him and letting gravity do the rest of the work, driving Danger head first to the mat with a rather nasty-looking Brainbuster! He turns to Black, pointing at him with one hand whiled dragging his thumb across his throat with the other.

Bryan: Apparently, AXEL’s saying Dan Black’s title reign is… Wait! What is he doing?!

AXEL turns his attention back to Danger, only to be attacked from behind by Dan Black. GCW referee, Hal Jenkins calls for the bell, signifying the end of the match.

Andrews: The winner of the match as a result of a disqualification is AXEL Action!

Black and Danger begin putting the boots to AXEL as he attempts to fight his way to his feet. He manages to do so, and catches Dan Black with a right hand, sending him stumbling, but Danger grabs AXEL’s arms and catches him in a Full Nelson, leaving him open for attack by Black. Black begins landing stiff martial arts punches and kicks to the face and chest of Action, but Action taunts Black. "Come on! Is that all you’ve got?! Hit me harder!" The more AXEL taunts Black, the harder he hits him until finally, AXEL manages to get his feet up, kicking Black in the face, knocking him to the mat. He then manages to get free of Danger’s grasp, turning around and spraying him with the Unholy Mist! Danger stumbles away, screaming in pain and trying to clean his eyes out.

Bryan: Look at that, Dave! AXEL Action is taking it to both members of the Movement!

Yale: Not for long, JB. Look at Black!

Bryan: Look out, AXEL!

AXEL turns around to go after Dan Black, but it’s too late. Before he can react, Black nails him right between the eyes with the title, knocking him to the mat, unconscious. Black stands over AXEL, holding the TV Championship high above his head, as if he achieved some sort of victory.

"As long as I’m around and am Television Champion, this is as close as you’ll ever get to it, Action!"

Black kicks AXEL a few more times before climbing out of the ring and heading to the back, with Mr. Danger in tow.

Back to Top






The camera sits in the parking lot where it witnesses a long black stretch limousine pull around the sea of cars to the front of the lot. It comes to a halt just outside of the double doors, close enough to see the Establishment logo sitting on the back passenger door. After a minute of silence, the driver walks around and opens the passenger door for none other than Tyson DeBough and Brian Fisher. The tag team steps out and watches as Brad Jackson follows.

Yale: Well it looks like we can actually start this show right. It's the most powrful team in GCW JB!

Bryan: If you factor in their benefactor, I guess you're right in saying so.

Yale: Well since he hasn't been around we've seen Jay take over, rightfully of course, and here he comes now.

Jay Terror slides out wearing a white tee shirt and blue jeans. Sunglasses cover his face along with his signiture red cloth. Once out, the driver closes the door and walks back to his seat.

Bryan: I wonder what we can expect from them tonight. We've seen some brash decisions made these last couple of weeks and I'm sure they're not done with yet.

Yale: Especially after last week. DeBough and Terror were jumped by Vivica and Murray and you can see by their expressions that action will be taken.

Bryan: Jumped? I think she just helped Andy Murray in his time of need.

Jay and the pack make their way through the doors and into the arena. As soon as they enter, a man with a headset walks past on his way down the hall. Jay stops him with his voice.

Jay Terror: Hey, guy.

He turns to face Jay and smiles.

Man: Jay Terror, hey. What can I do for you?

Jay Terror: You know Andy Murray?

Man: Yeah, of course.

Jay Terror: Go find the mother fucker and tell him that I want to see him in my office immediately.

The man pauses a second to digest the request.

Jay Terror: Use those legs and get moving guy.

Almost immediately the camera cuts elsewhere. The fans' reaction is explosive and instantaneous .

Bryan: ... and there he is! The ever-elusive Mr. Murray.

Yale: There's nothing "elusive" about this waste of oxygen, JB. I think Andy Murray actually took up about 80 minutes of our air-time last week...

Bryan: Haha, well it's certainly true that Murray has one of the strongest on-air presences in GCW today, yet somehow Jay Terror still can't seem to track him down on his own.

Yale: It shouldn't be too hard. Just look for the lanky goof with the stupid accent hanging around outside Vivica Valentine's locker-room.

He's chirpier this week; a little more upbeat than he has been recently. A slight smirk adorns facial features that had almost forgotten how to smile, and a generally good vibe surrounds the relaxing Scot. Dressed in a black band t-shirt and some loose fitting jeans, Andy leans against a well sipping on a can of Coke, just watching the world go by.

Bryan: Well at least The King's looking a little more agreeable this week.

Yale: It's hardly surprising; last week we did see Andy Murray finally score a small victory over Jay Terror. For weeks Terror's been using his newfound power in the absence of Caldera to make Murray's life a living hell, and it took a new alliance with Vivica J. Valentine for Andy Murray to break that cycle.

Bryan: Indeed; after weeks of cheap shots and ambushes, Murray sprung a trick of his own. When DeBough and Terror tried to lay the Scotsman out, Valentine was right round the corner.

Yale: Pretty fitting, really; Murray needing a woman to back him up.

Bryan: Say what you will, Dave, but the fact is that Terror's been playing the numbers game for weeks. I think Murray's more than entitled to even the odds out a little.

Eyes hidden behind a pair of trademark Aviators (that's right kids, Andy Murray wears sunglasses inside), Andy casts his gaze across the corridor as swarms of backstage workers and ring crew members scuttle around the place.

Suddenly he shifts away from the wall, interest levels perking up. He watches as a tall, skinny ring crew member shuffles along the corridor, a large cardboard box cradled in his arms.

Murray: Hey. You. 'Scuse me.

Confused, the kid stops in his tracks. Unsure what to make of the 6'7" grappler walking towards him, his facial features contort with contemplation.

Murray: What's your name, son?

Lackey: Uhhhh, Jeff.

Murray: Jeff?

Lackey: That's right. Jeff from Northern Ohio.

Murray: All right, fella. Wasn't asking for your life story.

There's a pause between the two. To say it's awkward would be a gross underestimation.

Murray: What'chu got in the box then, eh? A present for the Scottish King of Cool?

Jeff from Northern Ohio: Uhhh, no. Not exactly...

Murray: Really? Well slap my arse and call me Scott Stevens, that's a kick in the cock, let me tell ya. I've been waiting for my latest batch of Bagwell repellent to arrive for almost a month now. It's a bloody shambles.

Unsure of how to respond to a typically ludicrous Andy Murray turn of speech, Jeff from Northern Ohio only nods in cautious agreement as the Scotsman shakes his head.

Jeff from Northern Ohio: Actually, I'm looking for Mr. Angle. Have you seen him? This is his package.

Murray: Mr. Angle? Never heard of the bloke. Sorry mate. But if you walk right along this corridor, take the first left then head inside the 2nd door on the left there's a rather lovely young man in there called Bryan Mayhem, and he just loooooves visitors.

Jeff from Northern Ohio: Uhhh, thanks?

Nodding and allowing the thoroughly bewildered lackey to go about his business, Andy smiles and sets on his way. After taking one final swig of Coke and tossing the can in the nearest bin, it's only a matter of seconds before Jay Terror's carrier pigeon reaches him.

"Excuse me! Andy!"

Swivelling round on his heel, Andy startles the messenger with the speed at which he turns, almost knocking him off his feet.

Murray: Oh, you must be Mr. Angle. Jeff from Northern Ohio's looking for you.

Messenger: Err... no.

Andy raises an eyebrow.

Murray: Well what is it then boy? Spit it out. I've got evildoers to battle.

Messenger: Jay Terror would like to see you in his office, sir. Immediately.

Now it's the Scottish King's turn to get curious. He stands back a little bit, folding his arms over his chest and eyeing up the messenger with caution. Slowly a wry half-smirk crawls across the left side of his face.

Murray: Oh. Really. That's pretty interesting.

Messenger: He's pretty pissed-off, you know.

Murray: Cool.

One word accompanied by a nod. That's it. Nothing else. Slightly taken aback by the Scotsman's lack of concrete response, the human carrier pigeon carefully considers his words.

Messenger: Sooo, uhhh. You gonna go then?

Murray: Fuck no. Does he honestly think I'm going to be stupid enough to roll on up to a room packed full of his goons? Hell, ever The Admiral of Awesome hasn't got the swagger to pull that one off. No, you tell ol' JT that if he wants a chinwag with me, he can come find me. Alone. Not Shitforbrains DeBough, no Brad "hey, I've been here for over a year and I STILL have no personality" Jackson. Not even Brian Fisher. Ya dig?

With that The Scottish King of Cool gently taps the messenger on the shoulder twice before slinking away into the deepest, darkest never regions of the backstage area, leaving a startled messenger with no clue what to tell his boss.

Yale: Huh? Is Murray wussing out of another Jay Terror confrontation?

Bryan: I think he's just learning from his mistakes; he's jumped head-first into too many fights he can't win over the past few weeks. Definitely a good idea for him to be taking a more level-headed approach.

Yale: Well I'm not so sure if "level-headed" is the correct term, JB. This guy's showing glimpses tonight of the slightly confusing and entirely irritating Andy Murray of old!

Back to Top


Bryan: What you call irritation Dave, some people call "charisma" and "character".

Yale: He didn't have so much "charisma" and "character" before Vivica J. Valentine showed up to save his ass.

Bryan: I'd say The Admiral of Awesome was doing just fine on his own before Valentine decided to help him. He sure didn't fluke his way into a second place finish at Dangerous Games.

Yale: Yeah but...

Suddenly the lights in the arena go out and the crowd roars with enthusiasm. A low pitched rumble begins to play, followed by red lights triggering on the entrance ramp. It could only mean one thing.

Bryan: Speaking of The Fearless Phenom...

When I quest my flashing sword and my hand takes hold of judgement
I will take vengance upon mine enemies and I will have paid those who haze me
Oh Lord raise me to thy right hand and count me among thy saints...


"Image Of The Invisible" by Thrice echoes over the arena, setting off red lights flashing all over the arena. The red spotlights swirl around the crowd like a jailbreak as every single person in the audience is on their feet. The rhythmic drums make way for the apperance of Vivica J. Valentine as she pushes the curtain open to a thunderous ovation. She lacks the usual jump in her step and cocky smirk on her face. With a purpose she just marches to the beginning of the aisle, and raises her fist to slaute the capacity audience.

We're more than carbon and chemicals...
Crowd: WE ARE THE IMAGE OF THE INVISIBLE!
Free will is ours and we can't let go...
Crowd: WE ARE THE IMAGE OF THE INVISIBLE!
We can't allow this, the quiet cull...
Crowd: WE ARE THE IMAGE OF THE INVISIBLE!
We sing out this, our canticle...
Crowd: WE ARE THE IMAGE OF THE INVISIBLE!

Bryan: Listen to this audience Dave! They love arguable GCW's Greatest World Heavyweight Champion of all-time! She's a charasmatic firecracker. And she doesn't look like she's in a very good mood.

Yale: Must be PMS or something.

Bryan: Grow up.

Yale: PMS is scientifically proven to happen.

Bryan: Just.... drop it.

As she walks down the aisle she slaps five with all of her adoring fans. Yet her eyes never stray from their fixation on the ring. Sliding in under the bottom rope, The Fearless Phenom makes her unexplained entrance into the ring. Walking over to the GCW Ring Announcer she holds out her hand for the microphone. Reluctantly Andrews hands over the mic, not quite sure about if this is a match or not. As the former GCW World Champion grabs the microphone, "Image Of The Invisible" is cut off. Although the music is over it never seems to stop the pumped crowd for continuing on their own.

Crowd: WE ARE THE IMAGE OF THE INVISIBLE!

Crowd: WE ARE THE IMAGE OF THE INVISIBLE!

Valentine: I came out here tonight because I have something I need to say. Since Christian Zenith never seems to be available whenever I need to speak with him, I figure I'll use this ring as my public soap box to try and get what I want. You see last WorldWide one of my good friends backstage Ayake Sonoda was brutally attacked unprovoked by that asshole Chris Bagwell. She was just released from the hospital yesterday... and that cuntbag still hasn't been punished yet. So if you're not going to do the punishing "Mister Zenith", like you had no problem doing to Face for almost the same thing... I'd like to petition you for permission to beat some fucking sense into him MYSELF. Just like I'm going to do to Face tonight for thinking he's going to end Lia Ambrosi's career.

The crowd roars in approval for Valentine's request.

Valentine: Because after I'm done with Chris Bagwell... he's going to wish that he ACTUALLY quit when he said he would. He picked one hell of a time to start being a man of his word, and he picked the wrong fucking girl to start it with.

And I heard as it were the noise of thunder
One of the four beasts saying come and see and I saw
And behold a white horse
And it's name that sat on him was Death
And hell followed with him


"Lux Aeterna" by Clint Mansell begins to play over the arena signalling the entrance of Commissioner Zenith. The once happy faces and cheers from the crowd turned to disgust and hatred. With a slow and calculating strut Christian Zenith appears on the stage, a pair of expensive black sunglasses concealing his cold cadet blue eyes. He adjusts his black custom made suit jacket a little bit as Vivica J. Valentine already looks ready and willing to knock him out. Hopefully one of these days she'll get her chance. Maybe one day.

Zenith: Blah, blah, blah... Chris Bagwell hurt my friend. That just about covers it RIGHT Miss Valentine?

Valentine: Cut out the theatrics and just tell me if I get my match or not. I've wasted enough of my life on you. I don't have any more minutes to spare.

Zenith: A bitch touchy tonight are we? I suppose I'll cut to the chase.

The crowd waits anxiously as Zenith pauses for a moment.

Zenith: Lately all I've been hearing from you two is an unnatrual obsession about quitting. Chris Bagwell wants to quit and go home like a child whenever he doesn't get his way, and you? You can't seem to let it go. Rubbing it in at every opportunity you get, trying to push Chris Bagwell to the brink. Which you finally did... which is why he hurt your friend Ayake. In REALITY Miss Valentine, it's your fault. You see you can only push a man so far until he breaks, and then attempts to kill one of your loved ones. Little did you know Chris Bagwell has been punished, he's been fined a substancial amount and may lose his NC-17 Pay if he keeps up his little trend of hurting my employees. But both of you are so stubborn you're not going to stop acting like children until one of you quits... I think I have the perfect solution.

A smirk crosses the face of Christian Zenith.

Zenith: At NC-17 we're going to have us a fun little match. It's going to be "The Fearless Phenom" Vivica J. Valentine... vs "The Human Hype Machine" Chris Bagwell in an I QUIT MATCH.

The crowd roars in approval as Vivica smiles a bit too at the outcome.

Zenith: Maybe after one of two end up crying like the children you are... then maybe you'll shut up. You get what you want this time Miss Valentine... but don't get used to it. If you can somehow manage to dispose of Chris Bagwell at NC-17. Then we might start talking about that World Championship you won't stop nagging us about. Have a nice night.

"Lux Aeterna" by Clint Mansell begins to play and Vivica J. Valentine has a grin from ear to ear.

Bryan: Bagwell vs Valentine at NC-17! I QUIT MATCH!

Yale: Finally! Chris Bagwell will have the opportunity to make Vivica J. Valentine tap like the little bi...

Bryan: Watch it, Dave! There are children watching.

Yale: It doesn't seem to stop Vivica from doing it.

Bryan: Yeah well.... why don't you tell Vivica to stop? I'd love to see that. Regardless it's starting to look like NC-17 is shaping up to be the biggest PPV of all time Dave. And it's only weeks away. You can call your local cable or satellite provider now to order the NC-17 package.

Yale: We'll be there JB. It's going to be a great one.

Back to Top


Three guys with masks are trying to get into the backstage area. They're all wearing Mexican lucha masks and superhero outfits. Collective laughter and a few groans can be heard as the GCW faithful realize they're about to be invaded by the Thrillion Man March, headed by the infamous Nacho Grande with his two faithful companions, Quesa Dilla and Beef Supreme.

Beef Supreme- So if I understand correctly...

Quesa Dilla- You probably don't!

Beef Supreme- Vampires can come out in the day now?

Quesa Dilla- And they're actually just misunderstood teenage girl wet dreams now.

Beef Supreme- No, that doesn't make sense! Vampires don't have souls! They cannot resist temptation!

Quesa Dilla- As I said, this gloopy crap has turned them into teenage girl wet dreams.

Nacho Grande turns back towards them.

Nacho Grande- Are you guys playing Twilight again?

Quesa and Beef quickly look around nervously.

Quesa Dilla- No!

Beef Supreme- Of course not!

Nacho Grande- So I'm going to the picnic and I'm bringing an early 90's boombox, a New Kids on the Block stereophonic top quality cassette tape, the Taco Bell gift cards we got for Christmas from... each other...

Beef Supreme- You would think we could come up with something more creative than that.

Quesa Dilla- Seriously man, we got each other gift cards to eat at the place where we already get food for free anyway!

Nacho Grande- Who knows, maybe in GCW I'll get a girlfriend.

Quesa Dilla- And you'd take her to work?

Nacho Grande- Better than taking her with you guys to see Twilight... again.

Beef Supreme- Hey, I only went four times, and that was because Devon Drake handcuffed me to the chair!

Quesa Dilla- You bought an all day pass, you nimrod.

Nacho Grande- Guys, we're in a new place now... If we're going to be taken seriously...

Beef Supreme- Have we ever been taken seriously.

Quesa Dilla- Once, in 1985... August, for about an hour.

Beef Supreme- Maybe I should upgrade my name to Taco Supreme...

Nacho Grande- Bacon and Cheddar upgrade, like Beyonce!

Beef Supreme- Please, never say that name again.

Quesa Dilla- If I wanted a dose of that much lack of talent, I'd watch the Progressive crack fiend lady.

Nacho Grande- We are the guys who have a stable name that's half boxing match...

Quesa Dilla- Thrilla in Manilla...

Nacho Grande- And half civil rights movement.

Beef Supreme- Million Man March.

Nacho Grande stalls for a second.

Nacho Grande- Yeah, you're right... The hell with it, New Kids OUT!

The three do their trademark handhook dance as "Hangin' Tough" plays from their boombox, and they go to find a place to watch the show.

Back to Top

Bryan: Well it’s time to see two relative newcomers to GCW take each other on in their first singles matches.

Yale: Brian Fisher is hardly a newcomer. He got the win for his team last week didn’t he?

Bryan: The Aristocrats were in a match to. They have just as much experience as Brian Fisher. Besides, Fisher snuck up on Arizona while he was drinking.

Yale: First of all, we never saw the Aristocrats match because of technical difficulties, so it basically never happened. Secondly you call it sneaking I call it strategizing. Point is, Brian Fisher has already proven he can hold his own in the ring. Besides, he’s got Tyson Debough in his corner while JA GI has Rufio. It’s a foregone conclusion.

The opening to "Calm Like A Bomb" accompanies a strobe-flashing of the entryway light rigging. The quieter, individual notes lead up to the bang of the full intro by the instrumentals, leading into the vocals for the RATM song as the Korean fighter skips out from the gorilla position into full view of the arena cameras.

Announcer: Now approaching the ring, he weighs one hundred eighty-four pounds and hails from Busan, South Korea, accompanied by Rufio, JAGI!

Bryan: And hear comes Ja Gi, one-half of the Aristocrats, and from what I hear a skilled Martial Artist.

Yale: Martial Arts? What does he think this is, the UFC?

Darkness, followed by the start of slow techno.

Two spotlights flash on and illuminate two cages on either side of the stage. Two semi-nude girls dance in them as the music speeds up and the lights start to flicker maniacally back and forth, flashing every color imaginable.

Brian Fisher looks confident off as he appears from behind the curtain, with Tyson DeBough following close behind.

He starts his descent down the aisle. He wears white boots and white trunks tonight, trimmed in black, the latter going down to his mid-thigh. A small ‘BF’ sits at the top of the waistline in red and on the back of his trunks, also in red, reads one word: "Gangster."

Fisher climbs into the ring via the steps, makes his way to a far corner, and poses on it to a mixed reaction.

Yale: And here is Brian Fisher, Tyson DeBough’s newest partner.

The two men get into the ring, but are kept from beginning the match as the ref begins to yell at their respective corner men.
Bryan: What’s this, the ref is forcing Tyson DeBough and Rufio to leave the ring and head backstage. But they haven’t even done anything…yet.

Yale: Well its his first time writing a match, he probably doesn’t want to deal with more people than he has to.

Bryan: What do you mean writing?

Yale: Writing, officiating, stop arguing semantics with me.

DING DING

As the two men head backstage, Ja Gi takes advantage of the confusion to throw a a spinning back fist aimed his ear. Fisher is rocked, and Ja Gi follows up with a front kick to the chest that shoots Fisher down to the mat.

Bryan: I think Ja Gi is trying to end this one early with his impressive fighting skills.

Yale: Eh, just wait till Fisher slaps a submission hold on him.

Ja Gi follows up on his attack by dropping to his knees and begins to rain a hail of fists on Fisher’s skull.

Yale: There is no way that’s legal! This is cheating plain and simple.

Bryan: I can’t believe those words passed your lips but I agree. Though I wonder if the referee knows that.

Yale: Hey, that’s why the new refs start with matches between newcomers.

Finally the ref pulls Ja Gi off Fisher, who dazedly stands up and stumbles towards a corner trying to get his bearings. Sensing weakness Ja Gi charges towards Fisher, only to be met with a big boot to the face. Ja Gi stumbles back stunned, and Fisher takes advantage by leveling Ja Gi with a huge clothesline and drops to cover him

One…

Kickout!

Yale: Damn it, Fisher almost had him there.

Bryan: Well, I expect that Ja Gi has had too many headshots over his lifetime to be phased so quickly, and it looks like he’s about to prove it.

As Fisher picks Ja Gi up, he is met with a hard shot to the stomach. He’s hit with another, and finally releases Ja Gi who takes advantage by nailing Fisher with a devastating DDT.
Smirking Ja Gi poses for the crowd before turning back to his opponent. Before Fisher can regain his bearing Ja Gi drops down and sinks in a deep chickenwing armlock.

Bryan: It seems like Ja Gi is trying to rip Fisher’s arm of its socket with that move.

Yale: Holy Crap Ja Gi actually knows how to wrestle?

Bryan: Well he is on the GCW roster.

Yale: So was Scott Stevens.

The pain Fisher is experiencing is visible in his face as he strains to reach the ropes. Ja Gi tightens his grip, and the ref continually asks Fisher if he wants to give up only to be met with a firm refusal each time. Fisher reaches for the ropes, inching closer and closer…

Yale: He’s reached the ropes!

Obviously irritated that he was unable to make Fisher tap, Ja Gi stands him up and launches himself towards the ropes at the other end of the ring. He uses the momentum they give him to fly through the air, launching a flying clothesline at Fisher, who promptly ducks.

Bryan: Ja Gi just threw himself out of the ring and right onto the ground! I think he may have landed on his head with that move!

Yale: Its like I always say Bryan. You can take the man out of the dojo but you can’t take the dojo out of the man.

Bryan: You aren’t even trying to make sense anymore are ya?

Fisher casually leans against the ropes as the ref begins to count Ja Gi out. Finally deciding to wake up for the match, the crowd counts out along with the ref while Fisher rests.

ONE…

TWO…

No signs of life from Ja Gi.

THREE…

FOUR…

Ja Gi stirs and tries to push himself up.

FIVE….

SIX…

Ja Gi finally reaches the apron and manages to roll himself into the ring.

Fisher wastes no time and immediately rushes over to stomp down on his still dazed competition. Ja Gi rolls around trying to escape the barrage of stomps, but Fisher has him cornered and doesn’t give him a single window with which to escape. Finally the ref pulls Fisher away as he doesn’t want Ja Gi’s head back in. Fisher ignores the ref and forces Ja Gi up to his feet before delivering a dropkick to his knee. Ja Gi falls with a audible gasp.

Bryan: Fisher may have broken Ja Gi’s knee with that move! I don’t know if he’ll even be able to continue the match!

Yale: And that is exactly the reason that I said Brian Fisher would win. He’s got an aggressiveness and grasp of strategy that Ja Gi can’t hope to match. Plus I put down some money on him.

Sensing that Ja Gi is weakening Fisher pulls him towards the center of the ring. Pointing towards Ja Gi Fisher yells out something inaudible to the crowd, they respond with boos that Fisher ignores. He gives Ja Gi another stomp on the knee for good measure, then drops down to turn Ja Gi over and apply the Fujiwara armbar. But Ja Gi, with a sudden burst of energy, responds with a headbut that lands squarely on Fisher’s nose.

Yale: That is completely illegal. Ja Gi should be disqualified!

Bryan: And that dropkick to the knee wasn’t? Anyway it looks like Ja Gi was playing Possum, he’s getting up to pay Fisher back for the punishment he laid out.

With Fisher rocked from the head but Ja Gi slowly gets up, then runs to the ropes. He launches himself from them towards Fisher, and jumps, clearly intending to pull off the move that he botched earlier. But Fisher catches him in midair and transitions into a shattering power slam.

ONE…

TWO….

THRE—KICKOUT!

Yale: How the hell did Ja Gi manage to kick out of that? Doesn’t he know how much I have on him losing?

Bryan: Somehow I doubt its on his mind at the moment.
Fisher, obviously agitated stalks over to the turnbuckle. He slowly climbs it, and stares at Ja Gi who is slowly beginning to make his way up. He motions to the crowd who roar at him in response, though this time there is a chorus off boos and cheers, then leaps off the top rope.

Yale: SHOOTING STAR PRESS

Bryan: Fisher landed that perfectly and I do not see Ja Gi getting up from that one.

ONE…..

TWO….

THREE!

Yale: YES! Thirty-thousand to me!

Bryan: Where in the hell did you get…oh forget it. Well Fisher has certainly won his match in convincing fashion, and shown everyone why the Establishment recruited him.

Fisher poses in the ring while Ja Gi forces his way back up to his knees.

Back to Top






Have you ever been paranoid? Or ever tried to avoid someone? Remember those chills that would shoot down your spine? Tessa Windsor was definitely feeling those. She crept through the innards of the arena constantly checking the environment around her. There was no way she’d be caught off guard by a certain maniac with a crush.

Bryan: Well folks there’s Tessa Windsor. She’s had a few altercations with a man known by many for his fun-loving attitude; Clyde Fox.

Yale: Yeah but see this JB; Fox has Tessa all creeped out. She can’t even take two steps without checking both ways for him. I still can’t believe what he tried to pull off last time.

Bryan: Well it seems like Fox is no where to be seen…

Tessa strolls up to her locker room door unscathed. A sense of relief clearly melts onto her face as she opens the door and walks in. No one there. No strange gifts. No one waiting to give her hugz n kisses. Nothing. Just a bare, empty room. It was almost sad, kind of. Tessa looked like she had been at least expecting something… but there was a vacancy.

Windsor: Hmmm…

Tessa pondered as she thought she had it all figured out. She walks on over to the nearby bathroom stall and swings it open.

Windsor: Gotcha!

Yet the stall was just an empty as the room preceeding it.

Bryan: You don’t think… you don’t think Tessa was expecting to see Clyde do you?

Yale: From the looks of it, that little brat has made Tessa paranoid! It’s okay Tessa, I’ll find Clyde and put him in his place.

Tessa pulls up in relief. She almost chuckled to herself at how pathetic she was letting Clyde’s influence get to her.

SMASH!

Yale: What was that?

Tessa snaps her head around faster than a rat trap. A clang certainly came from the hallway. Tessa rushes over to investigate.

Windsor: I have you now!

She peers her head of from her room and sees nothing but a wiggling ceiling light above. Somebody had definitely been there. And Tessa was damn sure who it was.

Bryan: I don’t think Tessa’s going to stop until she gets to the bottom of this…

Tessa paces down the hall until another crashing sound, followed by laughing. She immediately pursues the annoyance and comes to a stop in front of Clyde Fox’s locker room. Strange noises filter out from the inside as Tessa begins to get irritated.

Yale: He’s going to get it now! He’s been playing mind games since Tessa won’t marry him!

Tessa swings the door open but oddly enough the room is just as cold and empty as her room. Nothing special, just a gym bag lying in ruins in a corner. She walks over to the bag and notices something shiny. She picks up the object so everyone can see.

Bryan: Are those… razor blades?

Yale: Oh great! Now we have the prototypical nerd slash stalker slash killer slash horror movie wannabe guy slash emo loser who cuts himself.

Bryan: What’s next… Clyde comes out of the closet?

Yale: I think we already know the answer to that question JB.

Bryan: I was only joking Dave.

Meanwhile Tessa throws the object down as soon as she realizes what it is. She turns to leave when…

BAM!

The crowd joins Tessa in shock as Clyde Fox looms over her. Dark circles cover the eyes of a once spunky face. His hair looks like he’s been living in the dumpster, as does his smell.

Yale: Oh my gosh JB! Clyde looks like a total wreck!

Fox: You bwoke my heart. You bwoke my heart. You bwoke my heart. GET OUT!

Fox screams right in Tessa’s face as he points to the door. Stunned, the speechless Tessa surprisingly does what’s asked and leaves.

Bryan: Well folks, something inside of Fox is clearly not right.

Yale: You betcha JB. He needs to cope with rejection.

Back to Top


The Megatron goes from the GCW logo to a static cam at the end of the hallway of locker rooms. Police are knocking on Zacharia Taylor’s door as the camera watches from a distance.

Police Officer: Open up, this is the Phoenix Police department, we have a warrant for your arrest.

The cop waits for a response, but is met with none.

Police Officer: Open it up or we will kick it down!

The camera pans to the right slight enough to reveal Garbage Bag Johnny’s head peeking around the corner, nervously shaking and lighting something obscured

Bryan: I think Garbage Bag Johnny's a little more paranoid than normal.

Yale: I don’t think he heard the police were looking for Taylor, I think he saw the drawing and suspected it was himself.

Police Officer: Alright kick it down.

Several people can be seen beyond the police officers on the other side of the hall. The police kick in the door and rush in yelling "Police" but their voices fade out in what seems like disappointment.

Police Officer: He’s not here, Sergeant!

Garbage Bag Johnny, wearing a look of concern, still peers around the corner. He backs up slightly and bumps into the cameraman (who had a boner), which causes the camera to go all crazy.

Garbage Bag Johnny: Easy there, Tony.

GBJ turns around and helps the mustachioed cameraman back to his feet and then returns his focus to the police. A hand reaches past the camera, grabs Garbage Bag by the shoulder and pulls him back quickly. GBJ lets out a surprised hoot, drawing the attention of the officers.

Police Officer: Sir, at the end of the hall! I think that was him!

The police make chase and run towards a set of freshly swung doors. The swinging doors crack quickly still thanks to none other than Zacharia Taylor.

Bryan: That fool! The Phoenix Police are looking for him and he’s still here?

Yale: He doesn’t have a match! He’s compromising his chances at NC-17 in two weeks!

Zacharia Taylor looks angry and holds his hand with disgust over Johnny’s mouth. Taylor raises his free hand's finger to his mouth for emphasis on his meaning.

Zacharia Taylor: I want you to listen to me, and I want you to listen good. I don’t need you running around drawing attention to yourself or me in this arena. You following the police is going to make them suspicious of you. They are . . .

GBJ: If I'm following them, they're not following me, and they can't ambush me if I'm behind them.

As GBJ is talking, Taylor looks at him with confusion.

Zacharia Taylor: Johnny, they aren’t after you! They’re after me!

GBJ: No, no. They heard me smoking on the radio, I know they did. They've been trying to get dirt on me for years.

Zacharia Taylor: They are after. . . don’t you read the newspaper?

GBJ falls silent and scratches his head. Police run by, radios going haywire with communication. The camera looks at the door, silhouettes of footsteps rushing under the door in the light, then looks back at Taylor.

Zacharia Taylor: The only reason they would be after you is because they 'd want to question you after being seen with me. If I let you out there… look, you are drawing attention to yourself. Act, well, normal, and nothing will happen. Play it cool.

GBJ: I got a match, man, and if I skip out, I lose, and you lose your shot at my streak.

Zacharia Taylor: Shut up! Look, I will have to use -- err -- we'll have to work together if we want to get past this.

GBJ: What are they after you for, anyway?

An awkward silence falls across the room.

Zacharia Taylor: Meet me here after your match. Right here! Don’t act suspicious!

GBJ half smiles and runs out the door. Taylor shakes his head and lifts his right hand and smacks his other hand. In it is a newspaper with the headline, "GCW Wrestler Zacharia Taylor Sought in Questioning for Murder."

Bryan: Murder?

Yale: What the hell is going on here?

Back to Top


Bryan Mayhem and Shaman walk into the arena. Two towers standing tall over the rest of the world. They are carrying duffel bags, and their tag titles are strung over their shoulders. Shaman seems to be in the lead, with Mayhem only a step or two behind. Upon entering people seem to move out of their ways as they make their way down the hall. Standing in the middle of the hallway, arms crossed staring at the two is Toad, head of GCW security.


Toad: "Gentlemen. A second of your time."

Shaman and Mayhem both stop at the same time and stare at Toad. Shaman cracks his neck with a subtle tilt of his head to the left. He rolls his hand as if to tell Toad to hurry.

Toad: "You will have your match, and that’s it. You will not start anymore shit with Banned and Exiled, wait until NC-17. We are tired of cleaning up the mess."

Shaman looks at Mayhem and both let out a little laugh and continue walking. But Toad puts his hand on Shaman’s chest. This stops Shaman in his tracks as he looks at the big paw on his chest. Shaman looks at Mayhem, who keeps a straight face and does nothing but stare back at his brother in pain.

Shaman:"Toad, get your hand off me."

Toad flexes his chest and keeps the hand on Shaman’s chest, and lets out a small laugh. "Or what. Tell me punk. You two have this entire company in an uproar, but let me tell you something, I am not scared of either of you. So once again.."

"Toad, I asked you once to remove your hand from my chest. I will choke you until you turn blue."

Toad laughs, and stares back at Shaman. "Oh will you now? What about your circus freak friend here? Or wait, where’s the fat ass has been Kimbusa? Don’t you freaks travel in packs anyway.."

Shaman: "Kimbusa? Well turn around, and let him know how you really feel."

Toad’s eyes widen, and he turns around slowly and standing by him is third member of Oblivion, Kimbusa. Kimbusa’s arms are crossed and his lips are pressed tightly together, standing there poised and unaffected by the Head of GCW Security.

Toad is now in the one place no one on earth wanted to be in. Stuck in the middle of all three members of Oblivion.

Shaman:"So, now may we go Mr. Rent-A-Cop?"

Toad, straightens up and puts on the bad ass image again. "No, there will be no attacks on anyone tonight, and I fucking mean it. Go to your lockerrooms, stay in there until your match is ready, and than leave after that. Understood, punk?"

Shaman looks over at Mayhem, than Kimbusa, both faces are stone, and than he leads his head towards Toad. "Excuse, me I am not sure I heard you correctly. Repeat."

Frustrated Toad gets closer towards Shaman’s ear."You will only be seen during your match. No destruction, no attacks on Banned…"

Toad drops clenching his throat as Mayhem lands a punch straight in the center of his Adam’s Apple. Toad is making choking sounds, as the floor begins to fill up with his spit and vomit.

Shaman squats down at the choking Toad. "We do as we want. Welcome to Oblivion."

He stands up and Oblivion walks off screen leaving Toad to choke and spit up everything he ate earlier today.

Back to Top

Bryan: Welcome back to ringside everyone! Up next we have the GCW United States Title on the line as Garbage Bag Johnny defends against Clyde Fox! And folks, both of these competitors have been looking over their shoulders tonight.

Yale: That's right JB. Johnny has been eluding a heavy police presence tonight, and I'm sure it's in his plan to get through this match as quickly as possible.

Bryan: It might play into the advantage for Clyde Fox, although the kid has not seemed alright.

Yale: Not at all. Earlier tonight Fox seemed emotionally distraught as he seemingly toyed with Tessa Windsor. No one truly knows what goes on in that messed up head of his.

"DVNO" cranks up as Fox sadly walks down the ramp.

Andrews: This match is set for one fall and it is for the GCW United States Championship! Introducing first, the challenger; CLYYYYYYYDE FOX!

Fox barely makes enough of an effort to roll into the ring as many fans look concerned at their hero.

Yale: He doesn't look so goo JB. He's got huge bags under his eyes... it doesn't look like he's slept in ages.

Bryan: He's probably just taken the rejection from Tessa really hard.

GBJ's theme interjects as the cheers for their champion.

Andrews: And introducing the GCW United States Champion; GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY!

GBJ races down the ramp faster than a player at the NFL combine. Fox stands their with a relax look on his face as GBJ takes the fight to Fox immediately.

DING DING DING!

Bryan: And we're off! And Johnny is on Fox right away!

Yale: This couldn't be more fitting. Two of the smelliest, slimiest... and popular guys dueling it out.

Fox rolls over on top of the resilient GBJ and begins to jirate. Johnny quickly evades the doggy hump and gets to his feet. Fox looks at Johnny and begins to salivate.

Yale: I think Fox might be on something. Seriously.

Johnny tweaks his head around the arena, still looking for the police, but it's just the fans cheering him on. Fox gets to his feet and welcomes the oncoming GBJ.

Fox: GARBAGE TIE LAMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bryan: Oh dear lord! Cover your ears!

THE FOX 40!

Yale: Jesus! That's incredibly loud!

GBJ stumbles backwards after the miss pronunciation of his name. He looks around but he cannot hear a thing. Fox runs up and gets GBJ in a school boy.

...1!

...Kickout!

Johnny rolls back to his feet, thrusts himself off the ropes and nails Fox with a clothesline. Fox darts back up and propels himself off the ropes, misses with his own weak clothesline, continues off the next set of ropes and gets decked with a super kick!

Yale: What a shot!

GBJ covers.

...1!

...2!

...Kickout!

The now-spry Fox shimmies out of the pin and gets to his feet to meet Garbage "Tie." GBJ misses with a right hand as Fox manages to secure Johnny in a police-style handcuffing position.

Bryan: He's got him now!

Yale: Look at GBJ squirm! He's having flashes of being arrested!

Johnny delivers a backwards headbutt to Fox and escapes relatively alright. Fox grabs his jaw as he falls to one knee. Johnny walks up to Fox, just when clever Clyde grabs his foes right hand.

Yale: We go from arrest to wedding?

Bryan: Is Fox re-enacting his proposal to Tessa?

Fox looks up as he rubs GBJ's hand. Johnny blushes for the slightest of moments before pulling away from Clyde. Suddenly, the unthinkable happens and Clyde's head falls down as he falls asleep right in the heat of battle.

Bryan: Did Fox just fall asleep?

Yale: I... I think so.

GBJ puts his hands up in some sort of shock. Could that have just really happened? No way. But GBJ was willing to test it out anyways. He rolled Fox over for the pin.

...1!

...2!

...

Yale: Oh my God!

Fox suddenly woke up and wrapped his arms around GBJ in a hug, also lifting his shoulders from the mat.

Bryan: Was that a kickout?

Yale: I think so. But I think Fox might be running so low on energy that he thinks hes waking up to his love; Tessa Windsor!

GBJ begins to scream uncontrollable as he points out to the crowd. The camera zooms in on what appears to be a police officer... but in reality it's just event security.

Yale: Now Johnny is on the fritz! This is just great... we have a match with a guy who wants to hug and love everything, and a guy who is so paranoid that he doesn't mind the man love.

Fox places a single finger over the screaming mouth of Johnny like a lover would do at make out point. Fox looks lovingly at GBJ but little does he actually realize that he is in a match.

Bryan: It's just event security. Man, Garbage Bag Johnny is seeing things too.

Fox can't restrict the loudness of GBJ as he breaks out of the hug hold. He gets to his feet in a panic and looks around the arena for a viable exit. Clyde, still thinking he's in bed with Tessa, sneaks up behind GBJ and pulls him down by the back of his pants, exposing Johnny's backside to the world.

...1!

...2!

...Kickout!

Bryan: We almost had a huge upset there!

Johnny rolls back up to his feet as he looks at Clyde. Fox only shouts one thing.

Fox: TESSA! TESSA! You... Tessa?

GBJ scratches his head as to how to handle the situation. He nods his head yes eventually. Fox smiles and lies down on his back. He opens his arms as he wants to be cuddled.

Yale: Okay seriously, I think Fox needs to take some Ny Quil and sleep vfor twenty four hours. He's lost it.

GBJ sensually lays down on top of Clyde, sending a jolt of happiness to Mr. Happytime.

...1!

...2!

...3!

DING DING DING!

Bryan: It's over! And... Garbage... Bag... Johnny... fooled Clyde... ?

Andrews: Here is your winner; GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY!

And just like that, Johnny thanks Clyde and races off into the crowd so fast that he leaves his belt behind.

Yale: Johnny couldn't wait to get the hell out of dodge. I could have sworn the police were after Taylor though.

Bryan: Who knows Dave. All I know is that this had to be one of the weirdest matches ever.

Fox runs after John--"Tessa" until he stumbles across the GCW US Title. Fox picks it up and raises it to the crowd.

Fox: Tessa will like it!

Fox walks over to James Bryan and shows him.

Bryan: Heyyyy... no I don't think she'll marry you even with that gold buddy.

The kind words were taken miserably by Fox as he throws the belt to the ground in a rage.

Fox: I HATE TESSA WINDSOR!

He runs off in the opposite direction that GBJ took.

Yale: We need more ritalin for these ADD hyper kids JB.

Back to Top






"Man, that was sweet!"



Tyson DeBough is giddy like a schoolgirl, a bright, wide-eyed smile on his face like he just had relations with the young, strapping, single gym teacher.



At his side is Brian Fisher, new to the ranks of GCW and fresh off his first singles victory.



DeBough pats Fisher on the shoulder and says, "It feels good to win again!"



Fisher turns his head slightly, eyeballing DeBough.



"You know what I mean," DeBough says.



Fisher rolls his eyes as the two of them run into a couple familiar – somewhat unfamiliar to Fisher – faces outside a locker room door.



"Boys," DeBough says.



Jay Terror and Brad Jackson are decked in their ring attire, ready for their match with Oblivion. They nod in response to DeBough.



DeBough rubs his chin and says, "I know I haven't had the chance to properly introduce—"



"Brian Fisher," cutting off DeBough to introduce himself.



Fisher locks eyes with Jackson, and then Terror, who leans forward slightly and slowly extends a hand.


"Nice to meet someone who can actually win matches," Terror says with a smirk.

DeBough starts to say something but Fisher cuts him off again. "Usually the head of crews in this business are the ones who are better than the other members."



Terror furrows his brow. "What does that mean?"



With a smirk, Fisher says, "TV title?"



Terror feigns interest. "Long time ago, my friend. Before I knew what I was doing and how to do it."



"We're not friends, Jay. I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's not pretend. You either, Jackson." Fisher nods in his direction.


Terror looks irritated. "You have any idea who you're talking to? What I've done for this company? For The Establishment?"



"No," Fisher says, "and I don't give two shits to be completely honest. I don't care about what you've done before this point."

Terror backs down a bit, looks to DeBough. "You better keep your boy in line if he's gonna hang with us."

"Easy, Jay," DeBough says. "He's on the same page. He just handles things a bit differently. Differently, but effective."



Fisher is locked onto Terror like he's stuck in some sort of science fiction tractor beam.

"Bottom line," DeBough says, "is we got what we need now. We're solid. Time to take this place back."



Jackson nods. Terror and Fisher, they stare.

Back to Top


Bryan: Folks, I’ve got word that our colleague, Sally Ford, has managed to secure a rare backstage interview with Face!

Yale: Well, why are the cameras on us then!?

The cameras quickly shift backstage, the crowd booing loudly at the very sight of one of the newest "villains" to come to GCW. And there are no bones to be made about it – Face is certainly as much a villain as there can be. Sally Ford is visibly aware of this, her body language saying "Go away!" Face, on the other hand, looks just as creepy and dark as always, his lighter flicking on and off in that perpetual rhythm he keeps. Nevertheless, the seasoned reporter remains calm and collected while starting off the interview.

Ford: Hello, I’m backstage with a relative newcomer to GCW, Face! Face, let’s get right to the heart of the matter here-

Face: Yes, you’d want this to end as soon as possible, wouldn’t you?

Sally ignores the question, attempting not to squirm on the spot.

Ford: How do you feel, going into your match with Lia Ambrosi at NC-17?

Face: I think the more interesting question to be asked is: How does Lia feel going into this match? Is she worried that this will be the final match of her career? After all, if her career were to be recorded as a symphonic song, it would start with a beautiful crescendo, full of numerous melodies and harmonies, and end with a perpetual decrescendo, full of only the occasional burst of off-beat notes and deprived of just about every harmony it once had, to the point where only a single out of tune violin is left weeping away.

Bryan: That was certainly an interesting take on the career of Lia Ambrosi, who will surely be a future GCW hall of famer.

Yale: He may be on to something there, though. Lia’s career really did peak with her World Title run and she has been largely inactive for a long time now. And look what happened to her in the Dangerous Games match. She was about as effective as trying to use a butter knife to cut steak thanks to Zenith’s hired help.

Bryan: Well, I don’t think Lia is down and out just yet. I think she still has what it takes to make a big impact here in GCW if she can get back into a more active role.

Ford is caught off-guard with the description of Lia’s career, but she is quick to get going again and continue with the interview.

Ford: Wow, those are some strong words for a GCW legend like Lia Ambrosi.

Face: Are they, Ms. Ford? Hmmm? What has she done lately that would point you to a change of tune? You see, most people don’t like to admit it when legends and idols begin to fall. They... (Face grasps at the air with his free hand.) cling and hang on to the accomplishments and memories of their idols’ long past primes. They continue to hold the legends up high on a pedestal. But, meanwhile, the legends and idols of old struggle and fail to adapt to the challenges of a new generation of stars. It’s like everyone is watching a really bad play...but with a curtain in front of the stage and a video of a really good play being projected onto it. They clap and they cheer, but it’s all for who the legends and idols once were, not for who they are now.

Ford tries to interject, but Face just continues. The crowd begins to rain down a chorus of boos now as Face continues to insult their idol.

Face: Lia Ambrosi was indeed a great wrestler in the past. But, over the years, she’s been consistently failing to reach the top like she once did. All of her former ties in the industry are being cut off from her and the motivation and adrenaline and fight she once had is flowing downstream with them... Lia’s career ended a long time ago, but she has chosen to draw it out past its expiration point. Unfortunately, no one’s had the heart to end it all. No one’s been able to gather the courage to do what needs to be done.

A short, but telling chuckle escapes from underneath Face’s mask.

Face: No one, that is, until now... I have no heart; no feelings for anyone; no fear and, therefore, no need for courage. And so, I’ll be the one that does what needs to be done. At NC-17, I’ll take Lia out behind the proverbial woodshed, and...

Faces forms a traditional gun with his index finger and thumb of his free hand and points it down, looking right down the "barrel" at some invisible target.

Face: Put her out of her misery.

Face mocks firing the gun, looking back up to a very surprised Sally Ford after a few moments. The audience has stopped booing. The announcers are both at a loss of words. An eerie feeling creeps through the air as the entire arena seems to be almost dead silent for a moment. Could NC-17 really be the last time they’ll see their idol in the GCW ring? Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Sally Ford gathers the courage to go up against Face’s claims, using a more personal tone than usual.

Ford: Well, what makes you so sure you’ll be able to take down Lia Ambrosi? Maybe it would have been easier for you to do so up until last week, thanks to the injured knee you gave her, but now you’ve got yourself an injured knee as well.

The somewhat heated response from Ford brings out a hoarse laughter from Face, who begins to shake his head from side to side.

Face: I love how you and everyone else love to stand up for Lia Ambrosi. It actually makes what I’m going to do at NC-17 that much sweeter. I won’t just be crushing the career of a former GCW legend; I’ll be crushing the hopes and dreams of millions of her followers. If Lia thinks her little ‘revenge’ on my knee is going to help her escape her end, she is sorely mistaken.

Surprisingly, Face lifts up his injured leg and proceeds to wiggle and shake it around, not showing any visible pain or reaction to doing so. He places it back down and Ford looks quite confused.

Face: You see, what you and Lia fail to realize is that my threshold for pain is on another level from hers and, indeed, most other people’s. It’s not because I have some superhuman healing powers. No...Lia and I share a similar physical pain that everyone else does and we’ll both be limping a bit at NC-17. The difference comes on the mental side of things. My mind... (Face taps the side of the head.) is what sets me apart from everyone else. I can shut the pain out and I never have to deal with mental anguish like Lia is certainly dealing with right now.

You may say she’s as calm and collected as always, and she certainly seems to be at even a studied glance. However, much like me, she wears a mask...Only hers is an invisible mask comprised of a front of emotions. And behind that mask lies a worrying, struggling woman trying desperately to find a way to figure out what is going wrong with her world. Unfortunately for her, I can see right through masks like that. I can see her weak, exposed self. And that’s who I’ll be attacking at NC-17. I’ll attack Lia from the inside out, until she is revealed to be the shell of her former self that she is...

With that, Face waits for a response for a few moments. A response never comes, though, as Sally Ford is at a complete loss for words. One last chuckle comes from behind Face’s mask before he heads down the hall, continuing to flick his lighter on and off like clockwork. The cameras switch back to the announcer’s table, where both men seem to be in a deep thought.

Bryan: Well, I think Face just brought the severity of this match for Lia Ambrosi into full view.

Yale: The idea of this being her last match has been floating around for a while now, but no one’s really been as sure of it as Face just was. I’m almost worried for Lia now. Face already has a history of causing injuries in GCW, despite only actually being here for a few months or so. Is he planning on permanently injuring Lia at NC-17?

Bryan: I don’t know, but what I do know is that Commissioner Zenith is publically backing Face in this match, which means Face can probably do whatever he wants to Lia without any repercussions. I wonder if Face will actually aim to injure, though. It seems like there’s more depth to his plans this time around. He may just look to beat her like he did with Mr. Danger.

Yale: Well, if that’s what he wants to do, it’ll be a lot harder to beat a former GCW World Champion than a former GCW Commissioner. Then again, we’ll see how Face does against former World Champs when he goes up against Vivica Valentine later tonight.

Bryan: Well, the match with Vivica will certainly be the biggest match of Face’s short GCW career. If he can beat, or even just perform well against possibly one of the most dominant World Champions in GCW’s history, that would mean big things for Face.

Back to Top


Bryan: What a night we've had so far, Dave. But I've gotta admit, I'm surprised that we haven't seen the challengers to Oblivion's Tag Team Championship yet.

Yale: What a surprise indeed, but any night without those two is a good night in my eyes. Banned & Exiled~! do nothing but create chaos and a lack of good order and discipline. Good riddance and many smiles for the day when they are no longer employed in GCW.

Bryan: Wait just a moment Dave, in a truly ironic moment, I'm getting word that B&E~! has been sighted outside of the arena. Luckily, we've got a cameraman out there with a live feed!

Yale: Yay, lucky us.

On cue, the dastardly Megatron shows the live stream outside of the arena, as Markus Stone and Chris Storm pull their gym bags from the trunk of their rented Mazda 3.

Storm: Dude, next time I'm picking the rental. This car sucks. Miss Daisy wouldn't be caught riding in this.

Stone: But it's got great gas mileage man, how can you argue with that?

Storm: With my paycheck, that's how. I mean, you bought a lightsaber off eBay, and you're complaining about gas prices?

Stone: Point.

The dynamic duo close the trunk, and begin walking towards the back entrance, in contemplative thought. In all likelihood, the two are probably trying to devise a way to cause even more trouble tonight.

Storm: Dude, what's that guy standing there for?

Stone: Oh that's security man, they keep all the troublemakers and riff raff out of the building.

The two approach the security guard at the door, and Markus tries to walk past him.

Random Security Guard: Sorry guys, Mr. Zenith has banned you two from the arena tonight.

Stone: Banned?

Storm: & EXILED~! BABY!!!!

Stone: Dude, we aren't gonna cause any trouble, we're like, respectable and stuff.

RSG: Not in Mr. Zenith's eyes. He specifically said that if you two made it into the building, the entire security staff would be fired.

Storm: Dude, you don't need to take that crap from him. Just go to monster dot com and fill out some applications for a mall or something.

Stone: Yeah man, screw the system. See you later.

The duo once again try to walk past the security guard, but a hand strategically placed in the center of Markus' chest causes a him to stop, paralyzed.

Stone: Dude, I can't feel my legs.

Storm: I told you not to take the blue pill.

RSG: Guys, you aren't getting in.

Storm: That's cool man, we'll just go buy a ticket.

Stone: Like that time when we got in the fight with the Blue Collar Boys, and sued GCW?

Storm: Yeah, just like that one.

RSG: Tickets are sold out. You guys should probably just go back to your hotel.

Stone: Sold out?

Storm: Scalpers dude, there's always one.

RSG: They've already been escorted off the property. Mr. Zenith has taken every possible precaution to ensure that you two aren't able to enter the arena tonight.

Stone: Seriously? Damn.

Storm: Sweetness!

Markus drops his bag, and his jaw, and glares at Chris.

Stone: What the hell are you talking about?

Storm: Dude, I don't know about you, but I'm tired of getting the crap kicked out of me by Oblivion each week.

Stone: Didn't happen last week.

Storm: Yeah, because the moon wasn't out. Full moon tonight, werewolves get their powers, people with PMS get all sorts of bitchy.

Stone: Is that why Tessa keeps calling?

Storm: Yeah, she's hella pissed today.

Stone: Okay, no ass kicking tonight. Check. Trouble making?

Storm: Let's go find Zenith's car, we'll slice his tires.

Stone: Dude, I hope he left it unlocked, I'm gonna piss all over his seats.

Storm: And I'll take a crap in the glovebox.

Stone: Good one!

HIGH FIVE~!

With that, the duo turn and leave the security guard alone, standing his lonely post in solitude and silence, utterly alone with nothing except his loneliness to keep him company in this post of lonely loneliness. Yeah, he's that's alone.

Yale: Oh no! Somebody better tell Mr. Zenith not to take that car home tonight!

Bryan: Well with only two weeks before NC-17, Banned & Exiled~! are taking the night off. I can't say I blame them, as a rest seems like the best thing for them.

Yale: And me! It's just too bad though, I'd love to see Oblivion give them a good what for again.

Bryan: What for? Dave, this is America.

Yale: A distinguished gentlemen always uses British slang. Mr. Zenith taught me that.

Bryan: I just can't believe that Mr. Zenith would ban them from the arena. Those two are most certainly childish, but to deny them a paycheck, and to deny our fans a chance to see their favorite tag team, is wrong.

Yale: Don't worry JB, you'll get to see them in two weeks, when Oblivion ends the idiocy of Banned & Exiled~! once and for all. You know what my favorite part of that Tag Titles match is? No DQ! That's means the referees can't stop Oblivion from doing whatever they want with them!

Back to Top


Like a coyote, Jay Terror sniffs out the backstage behind the confines of his red cloth.

Bryan: Look who it is, Jay Terror. You think he's looking for Murray?

Yale: I bet he is. That Scot needs to learn that when the big guy summons you you'd better show up.

Bryan: But the big guy is -

Yale: Jay Terror. Exactly.

Coming the opposite way of him is a handyman, one with a helmet and everything. He glances slightly at Jay before lowering his head and picking up his pace past.

Jay Terror: Hey. You. Stop.

The man in the helmet does as he's told and slowly turns to face the Established one.

Handyman Hank: Hey Jay.

Jay Terror: That's more like it.

Handyman Hank: I'm sorry, I was just on my way to - well - I needed to go turn a bolt somewhere. Yeah. The stage might break if I don't.

Jay Terror: Well that sounds mighty important for one guy like you. I guess I should let you go and do that, yeah?

Handyman Hank: I think so. Yeah.

Hank turns to try and walk off but Jay speaks again forcing him to stop in his tracks.

Jay Terror: Just a minute, got a question for you. Where the fuck is Andy Murray?

Hank blinks a few times at the sudden burst of anger. He shakes his head.

Handyman Hank: Maybe his locker room?

Jay Terror: Odd place for him to be. Thanks.

Hank walks off unscathed leaving Jay behind with a wry grin on his face. Terror shakes it off and makes his way down the wall of doors until he stops at one labeled "Andy Murray". With a shrug, he walks up and opens the door. Inside, Andy's sitting on the couch fiddling with his gear bag.

Bryan: Uh-oh! This could get messy...

Jay Terror: Since when did you grow the balls to say no to me?

The King snaps his head upwards.

Murray: Aha! If it isn't my favourite ill-tempered, highly erratic Rich Rollins foetus!

Now dressed in his ring attire (minus those oh-so fetching sunglasses, unfortunately), Andy offers Jay a quick wink before rising to his feet.

Murray: Was beginning to wonder if you were going to show your face 'round these parts tonight, Jay. Where are Shitforbrains and Jackson? Skulking around outside the door?

Jay Terror: I'll tell you after you tell me where your new love interest Valentine is. Since when did the Scottish king of fuckin' cool need a woman to fight for him?

Murray: ... asks the guy who ran away from said woman like a whimpering little puppy. What's the matter, Jay? You don't like it when it's two on two, do you? Much more of a "hey, I can't get my ass kicked TOO bad if I hang around with at least three other dudes at all times" kinda fella, right? I mean, if you've got a problem with what last week and you want to piss and moan 'cause you got chased away by a girl, then fire away. I ain't gonna stop you making a tit outta yourself.

Terror snarls.

Jay Terror: Oh, is that how it is? Because she beat me once I'm the whimpering one? If you missed it, it was Jordan White that got between me and my title win the first time around. But you know what, if you want to play fair then be my guest. Whatever helps you sleep better at night. I'll tell you this though, she won't be your crutch forever. Viv is come and go. She does what she wants. I don't know how you managed to snag her under your wing, especially with that bull shit accent you have. Once she does her thing though, you'll be back where you were before her - on the ground under my raised arms.

Murray: Yeah yeah. Keep huffin' on that crackpipe. So I work with the girl one week, and all of a sudden Viv and I are best buddies? Attached at the hip?

Andy shakes his head, chuckling.

Murray: Wise up, Jay. If you honestly think I'm relying on anyone else to take care of my business then you're a shitload dumber than you look. We're talking Shaman levels of retardation here, kid. Anyway, if there's not a point to this little shindig I suggest you get your grubby little arse off my turf. Got a match, you see. Earning my keep around this place, which is a lot more than I can say for certain people...

Jay nods and allows a slight grin to form on his lips.

Jay Terror: You know Murray, I'd like to see how attatched you and her are. I'm sick of your bull shit and sick of you acting like you know what's what. This is GCW, not the Scottish games. So before you go out there and wrestle that tired and tattered McKail guy, chew on this. Murray. Terror. NC-17. We'll see what a guy like you actually knows about wrestling. You in or are you going to find Handyman Hank and ask him to wrestle?

Faining surprise, Andy's eyes suddenly widen. He staggers backwards, holding his hands up.

Murray: Holy shit! Hold the presses, Mikey! I think Jay Terror just grew a set!

Jay is unimpressed, offering Murray little more than disapproving glance beneath furrowed brows.

Murray: Thought the day would never come, Jay. Really. I mean, I've only been asking you for... I don't know... over a month?! Guess getting your ass kicked by a girl had a bigger effect on you than you'd like to admit, eh? But, you know, I've been waiting so long for you to answer the challenege... I dunno man, the appeal of the whole situation's kinda worn off a little.

Jay Terror: Worn off?

Jay steps forward and shoves Murray into the couch. Murray takes a seat and now shows his shocked eyes. He stands and takes his own shove at Murray.

Jay Terror: Feel good? Murray, you have two options. You can take that match and do more than just shove me or I can shove this proposal so far down your throat you won't be able to run those Scottish lips of your for weeks.

Murray: Temper temper now, kiddo. You don't want to cause a ruckus up in this place, do ya?

Slowly the Scotsman rises from the couch, towering over the much-smaller Terror.

Murray: Am I supposed to be intimidated by that, you useless little shitcake. I mean, look at you man! You're like a fucking gnome. You honestly think you've got it in you to level me one-on-one? Piss off back to France, Napoleon.

Andy shakes his head, smiling.

Murray: I don't respond to threats, Jay, you should know that by now. And don't get me wrong, I'm sure Andy Murray vs. Jay Terror at NC-17 would be swell and all, but you know what? I can't be arsed. Seriously. I mean, what's the point? I can see I've already ruffled your feathers enough as it is, what on Earth could I possibly gain from tossing your carcass around that ring for half an hour? No, Jay. I'm afraid that ship's already sailed. You had the chance, now it's gone.

Murray turns, leaning down and picking up his signature ring robe. Draping it over his arm, he flashes Jay a quick smile.

Murray: Chin up though, kid. I hear Rikki Roxx is still looking for an opponent...

Andy slides passed a bemused Terror and out of the room completely.

Yale: Oh my...

Jay Terror looks beside himself, completely thrown off his saddle. He looks around the room and down at himself before shaking his head and clenching his teeth.

Bryan: Look at the look on Jay Terror's face! He's apopleptic!

Yale: So would you be. Did Andy Murray just pussy out of Jay's challenge?!

Bryan: ... I don't think so for a second, Dave. Andy's gotta have something up his sleeve, and by the state he's got Jay in right now, I'd say it's working!

Back to Top

Andrews: The following match-up is scheduled for one fall...

Yale: Well here we are, getting ready for what's sure to be an Establishment beat-down headed by the main man himself, Jay Terror.

Bryan: Are you serious? Haven't you heard who they're facing?

Yale: Of course. But you can't be serious if you think Jay Terror and Brad Jackson are going to sit around and be tossed back and forth between two of the biggest guys on the roster.

Bryan: Not just the biggest, the most extreme. Shaman and Bryan Mayhem have proven time and time again that they aren't the kind of people to roll over. They're mean and expecting to prove it.

Yale: They may be mean but Jay Terror is smart. He knows how to overcome Hulk impersonators. And Jackson, he's just as big if not bigger than them.

Bryan: Do you think that Jay will be thinking smart after what just happened. He challenged Murray to a match and was blatantly turned down. He's got to be fuming.

Yale: Just wait and see where his mind is. Winning is always first in the eyes of the Establishment.

Babylon AD by Cradle of Filth fills the air of the arena as the fans immediately give them a mixed reaction. Two giants step out from behind the curtains and look at one another before starting toward the ring.

Andrews: Making their way to the ring first, weighing in at a combined weight of 678 pounds, they are the GCW Tag Team Champions....Shaman, Bryan Mayhem.....OBLIVIONNNN!!!

Bryan: You can't tell me that Jay has a logical way of beating men of that stature. Shaman is a former TV and US champion while Mayhem was the world champion not too long ago. They're accomplished and angry.

Yale: Trust me; the Establishment is just as angry. And just as Accomplished. Established even.

Shaman parts to the right as Mayhem goes left. They climb on the apron and step over the top rope with relative ease. The fans continue to give them a mixed reaction as they meet in the center of the ring. Both raise their hands and look intimidating.

Andrews: And their opponents....

Established plays over the PA system now as the fans make it known about their feelings. An onslaught of boos rains over the faction even before they step on stage. Walking out first is the leader himself, Jay Terror. His legs are covered by a typical pair of tattered jeans and his face is masked by Rich Rollins symbolic bandana. The monster that is Brad Jackson steps out smiling at Jay.

Yale: See. With confidence like that, how can you not pick them in this one?

Bryan: I'd like to see Jay's face under that bandana to make that call.

Andrews: Coming down to the ring at a combined weight of 414 pounds....."The Established" Jay Terror and Brad Jackson....THE ESTABLISHMENTTTT!!!

Jay leads the way as he walks quietly on a mission to the ring. Jackson follows as he works himself up. Both men use the stairs to enter the ring and as they do so both Shaman and Mayhem step back in their corner giving them space. Jay merely takes his sunglasses and bandanna off while Jackson tightens his wrist tape.

The referee signals for the bell and Brad Jackson steps forward to start. Shaman is the lead man for Oblivion.

Bryan: It doesn't look like Jay wants to start this one off.

Yale: It's smart JB. He's making the plan as Jackson takes out one of the members.

Bryan: Well it's getting underway with a fast grapple. Jackson uses his strength and Shaman his.

Shaman, being the bigger man, gets the advantage and pushes Jackson onto his back. Brad is fast to get up and as Shaman charges he ducks grabbing him from behind. He quickly sweeps the legs for a Russian leg sweep. Jackson stands again and this time carries Shaman up with him. Shaman fights back with a stern shove but Jackson is unphased and does a charge of his own. His forearms strike Shaman in the throat knocking the wind out of him temporarily. Jackson clubs him in the spine dropping him to his knees.

Yale: This is classic Jackson. Going straight for the spine to immobilize Shaman.

Bryan: It's true. He knows where to place the hits and does well in pulling them off. I wouldn't be surprised if he continues to apply the moves to break Shaman down.

Shaman starts to get back to his feet but as he does so Jackson takes advantage by dropping him on his forehead with a savage DDT. Jackson stands and walks to the corner where Jay is. Jay extends his arm and Jackson slaps it casually. As he does, Jay starts to climb the ropes until he's perched on top.

Bryan: What's this?

Yale: Air Jay!

Jackson grabs Jay under the arms and tosses him off the ropes for a senton flip. Shaman, using his wit, rolls out of the way sending Jay back first into the mat. He bounces giving time for Shaman to tag in Mayhem.

Yale: Oh no!

Bryan: Oh know's right, that completely backfired on Jay and now he's set to face a fresh Bryan Mayhem.

Yale: Look at Mayhem too. He's already got Jay up and he's sending him for a suplex now.

Jay extends in the suplex and smashed his back once again as he falls from Mayhem's height. He grabs at the sore spot but Mayhem gives him no reprieve. Digging his boots into his side, Mayhem starts to kick away his breath. Jay takes hit after hit until he begins to cough.

Bryan: Thank you for smoking.

Mayhem lifts him and whips him across the ring into the ropes. Jay bounces and returns only to run into a solid boot. His face bounces off the leather and falls to the mat with a thud. Bryan Mayhem raises his arms in victory and bends down for a pin.

...1!

...2!

...KICKOUT!

Yale: No cigar!

Bryan: You should tell Jay that. Look at the way he's coughing in there.

Yale: It happens when Hercules decides to pretend you’re a rag doll. I hope they know who they're messing with.

Bryan: I think they know exactly who they have. Their doing all of GCW a service I'd say.

Bryan Mayhem carries Jay to his corner and tags Shaman back in. Shaman steps inside the ring and grabs a hold of Jay in powerbomb position. Mayhem, holding his head, supports him before the derailing blow can occur. As they're about to perform it though, Jackson stampedes in and nails Mayhem in the back. He collapses leaving Shaman unsteady. Jay takes advantage with a fast hurricanranna. Shaman flips over and lands across Mayhems back.

Bryan: No way!

Yale: It's an Establishment thing.

The referee finds order and makes Jackson and Mayhem leave the ring. Jay remains with Shaman and they both work to get back on their feet. Jay is first and when he's there he makes his way toward his partner. On his way he kicks Shaman across the face.

Bryan: And there's Jay with the tag meaning Jackson's back. You know, who would have thought that Jackson would side with these guys.

Yale: He's a perfect fit. Strong, smart, and mean.

Bryan: But still, Jackson never struck me as a conformist.

Yale: He's doing things his way. Just like he's about to do to Shaman.

Jackson faces the Mojave monster with no fear. Stepping in, they grapple again. This time, Jackson takes advantage and he works him across the ring into a corner. He offers a forearm to the face before lowering his shoulder into his abdomen. Like a ram, he shoves his weight into Jackson's body repeatedly. Each thrust draws more and more breath from his lungs before Shaman seems to be heavily winded.

Yale: Look at him. Jackson is going to knock him out.

Bryan: He might with this. Look at the T-Bone suplex he's working on.

Yale: That's a lot of weight to be suplexing too.

He starts to pull it off before Shaman delivers a knee to the midsection. Jackson releases giving Shaman a chance to fight out. He hits him with a right and follows close with a left. Jackson stumbles before Shaman comes back with his right fist for a final blow. Jackson blocks that but misses the left hand. Jackson topples over.

Bryan: And the Establishment member is down on the floor.

Yale: So is Jay. He just dropped out of the corner and he's sneaking around the ring toward Shaman.

Bryan: Oh know he's reaching for Shaman's legs.

Jay grabs Shaman around the legs and pulls them out from under him. Shaman falls face first beside Jackson drawing a cunning smile from Jay Terror. Mayhem steps in but as he does the referee moves to stop him. As the ref tends to Mayhem, Jay slides in and begins to strike Shaman while Jackson stands again. Jay lifts Shaman for Jackson and slides out before the referee notices.

Yale: Jackson's got Shaman for that T-Bone again.

Bryan: And he delivers thanks to Jay Terror.

Yale: I told you he was smart JB. Terror is one of the most underrated minds in this industry.

Bryan: Overrated if you ask me.

Jackson slumps on top of Shaman and looks for the pinfall.

...1!

...2!

...KICKOUT!

Bryan: Not enough for The Establishment this time.

Jackson seems unphased by the miss and stands back up with Shaman in hands. He whips him to the ropes again and this time on the return he grabs him and flips him for a solid powerslam. Jackson stands and tags Jay in again.

Bryan: One thing I am impressed with is Jackson's ability to break down the bigger men. It lets Jay have a chance at least.

Yale: A chance? He's Jay Terror; he always has more than a chance.

Terror picks Shaman up and starts with a flurry of punches to the face. Shaman takes each before Jay runs behind him at the ropes. He springs off the center rope and returns for a bulldog. As he grabs Shaman, the giant uses his strength to hold him with one arm.

Bryan: Shaman's got Jay. I don't think anything's gone right for him yet.

Yale: Where's he going with him?!

Bryan: It looks like he's getting Mayhem back in here.

He does exactly that. Mayhem slaps the hand and steps over the top rope. Jay squirms but Mayhem grabs him in the powerbomb position. Shaman, holding him for a back suplex, falls back as Mayhem falls forward. Jay receives a crushing slam and lies still for Mayhem. Bryan covers him.

...1!

...2!

...KICKOUT!

Yale: Thank god!

Bryan: I'm not sure Jay should be in there.

Yale: Give him a chance.

Mayhem snarls and lifts Jay off the mat. He grapples with him before placing him in a fall away slam. Jay hangs in the balance as Mayhem shows off his prey to the crowd. They cheer for the oncoming move.

Bryan: Mayhem's going to crush him here. He just lifted him onto his shoulders and now he's calling for a Death Valley driver I believe.

Yale: Oh man. Not the head!

Bryan: Here it is.

Mayhem falls to his side and drops Jay across his head and neck. He lies out across the mat in a perfect line.

Yale: Do something Jackson!

Almost on cue, Jackson enters the ring again and clubs Mayhem in the back. He stumbles giving Brad enough time to run and shove him outside of the ring through the middle ropes. He rolls across the outside mats as Shaman enters the ring. Jackson gives him a big boot and leaves him behind.

Bryan: And now Jackson's coming outside to get Mayhem.

Yale: The referee is counting too! This could be a count out!

Jay lies motionless in the ring as Shaman slowly comes to. Outside of the ring, Jackson and Mayhem begin a battle of the punches. Back and forth they hit one another until Mayhem's back is against the steel rail. Fans touch him and avoid Jackson's swings. The referee's count make it to three. Inside the ring, Shaman picks Jay up. He pushes him into a corner.

Yale: This is crazy, Shaman isn't even the legal man and he's taking it to Jay.

Bryan: In all fairness, Jackson isn't the legal man either. There's nothing fair in this match.

Shaman gets to work on Jay with a few punches to start. Jay tries to block but is unsuccessful. As he begins to lose his composure, Shaman takes advantage by lifting him to sit on the top buckle. Shaman climbs onto the bottom rope and with one last punch he wraps Jay up for a superplex.

Yale: He can't do this!

Meanwhile, outside the ring, Mayhem has taken advantage as Jackson is now against the guard rail. He kicks him in the midsection and whips him into the side of the ring. Jackson bends in agony and Mayhem continues on the attack. He lifts Jackson and whips him again, this time into the rail. Brad's back hits the steel and nearly knocks the entire rail over.

Bryan: I hope security is paying attention; these guys could really hurt one of those fans out there.

Yale: Agreed. I don't think we'll have much more of this match soon though; the referee is up to a six count.

As Mayhem nears Jackson again, he's surprised by a fan that suddenly stands. Wielding his chair, the fan swings at Mayhem's skull knocking him backwards against the ring.

Yale: What the hell?!

Bryan: That fan just went nuts and nailed Mayhem. Where is security?

Yale: I don't think that's a fan JB, look at his face.

The camera draws close and watches the fan take off his sunglasses. It's none other than Tyson DeBough. He winks Jackson's way as he stands and slowly walks away with a parade of boos following him.

Bryan: I can't believe the referee missed it too.

Yale: He was checking up on Jay. I don't blame him either.

Back in the ring, Jay is on his back after the devastating superplex delivered by Shaman. Mayhem's body rolls in at the nine count and he's followed close by Brad Jackson. Jackson stands and charges at Shaman directly. He manages to knock him over the top rope and back to the outside leaving both Jay Terror and Bryan Mayhem on the mat.

Yale: I don't think these guys know what a ring is.

Bryan: That or they just don't care. I'm not even sure I can call this an official match.

Yale: I would, look at Jay. He's getting back up.

Bryan: And Mayhem is still grounded. Tyson DeBough and the Establishment pulled another fast one in this one.

Jay crawls to Mayhem and lies on top of him looking for the pin.

...1!

...2!

...THR-KICKOUT!

Yale: How in the hell?!

Bryan: Mayhem kicked out! No way!

Yale: What is this guy made of?

Jay is astonished by the feat and slowly starts to gather himself. He begins to stand once again as he hopes to get up before Mayhem can. He does just that. As Mayhem reaches his knees Jay kicks him and drops down to perform a reverse DDT that manages to torque the big man's legs. He tries to pin again.

...1!

...2!

...KICKOUT!

Bryan: Mayhem's got to be getting mad now. He kicked out of that one with authority.

Jay shakes his head and drags Mayhem to his feet with him. He whips him across the ring and as he releases he runs for the opposite ropes. He bounces off and they meet in the middle. Unfortunately for Jay, Mayhem is conscience enough to deliver a heavy closeline that flips Jay straight to his back. Mayhem looks down and growls slightly.

Yale: Oh no, he's letting his inner animal out.

Bryan: I think we're about to see the world champion Bryan Mayhem now. He's ruthless when upset and I'm sure that chairshot ticked him off.

Mayhem brings Jay up and clubs him in the ribs. Jay stutters but Bryan keeps him standing with his other arm. He hits him in the ribs again before lifting him onto his shoulder for an Oklahoma slam. Walking forward, Mayhem works the crowd. They begin to cheer seeing GCW's most hated superstar about the plunge. After a long waited pause, Mayhem falls forward crushing Jay's spine.

Yale: Ouch! Bryan Mayhem is going to be suspended for man handling Jay like that!

Bryan: I don't think he can do those kind of things without legitimate reasons David.

Yale: Jay does what he wants.

Coming back from the outside, Brad Jackson is the victor. He slides back in the ring and comes at Mayhem. The referee tries to step between them but it's no use. Jackson kicks Mayhem in the back of the knees and follows by slamming his face manually into the mat. The referee finds his chance and gets between them forcing Jackson back to the corner. Shaman is now back to his feet and making his way at Jackson once again.

Bryan: It looks like Shaman and Jackson have something going on now.

Yale: Which is not good because Jay could use a hand in there.

Bryan: I thought he was the best ever.

Yale: Even the best could use help when a rabid sideshow clown attacks.

Jay is slow to move but he manages to do so. Mayhem is quicker and makes his way to his feet first. He helps Jay up and turns him to face him. Mayhem grins with pleasure before wrapping his hand around Jay's throat.

Bryan: I think he wants the choke slam.

Yale: No, not the chokeslam! Where's Tyson, or Fisher! Someone!

Mayhem lifts Jay off the ground and stalls for a second. In the air, Terror works quickly and forces his fingers into the monster's eyes.

Yale: He's blinded him!

Mayhem drops Jay and tends to his eyes. In the opening, Jay uses his last burst of energy to sprint at the near corner. He springs off the second rope and turns back in the air flipping over. He grabs Mayhem around the neck and performs a nasty neckbreaker that show serious signs of neck injury.

Yale: Facially ESTABLISHED!

Bryan: That's one of Jay's newer moves to his arsenal and he used that eye poking opening to use it. Go figure.

Yale: It's smart JB!

Jay crawls over and covers Mayhem. Outside, Shaman works to come back inside.

...1!

...2!

Shaman reaches in to grab Jay's leg but Jackson grabs Shaman at the last seconds and keeps him out. Shaman turns and is forced into Jackson's double underhook inverted facebuster.

...3!

Yale: Jay and Jackson did it!

Bryan: I'm not sure how legal of a win it was but they did manage to come out on top. I'll give them that.

Yale: It's a plan that they had and it worked like all of them. They are the Establishment and they will always come out on top in these kind of matches. It's just a well known fact.

Andrews: Here are your winners, Jay Terror and Brad Jackson....THE ESTABLISHMENT!!!

Bryan: I guess the most impressive thing is that they toppled the tag team champions.

Yale: They should be the champions now!

Bryan: Only if it wasn't a non title match.

Yale: Jay has bigger fish to fry anyways.

Bryan: If you mean Andy Murray, that match isn't set or official. Who knows if he'll get what he wants.

Yale: Oh he will. He always does.

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The illuminated full moon glows over the leafless trees. Walking briskly through the brush is the silhouette of a tall, long-haired figure with a coat flowing in the wind near his feet.

Voiceover- Sometimes a warrior's strength is determined by how he handles the worst of times.

The camera zooms in to catch the gleam of the dangling sword hidden under the figure's jacket.

Voiceover- When all seems to be going wrong, when hope seems to be lost, the elite... The alphas... The chosen ones emerge.

The camera changes to an angle in front of the strolling stranger. Panning up, the figure's face is covered by the wind blowing his hair across his face.

Voiceover- He was an undefeated heavyweight champion until he disappeared several months ago.

Two emblems dangle from the figure's neck, visible in the moonlight. One, an ankh, an emblem known to most as a sign for life and immortality. Second, a gold pendant, with what appears to be a picture of a young blonde-haired child in the center.

Voiceover- But now, he has emerged from the darkness.

The figure suddenly removes the sword from its sheath just in time to counter another one emerging from the shadows. A much smaller, red-haired woman walks out from behind a tree with a smile on her face.

Woman- Well done, you haven't lost a step.

The camera slowly pans to the figure's face, revealing long blue hair, two ears pointing through them, and the face of none other than "The Elven Warrior" Lantlas Anduril. The woman is his fiery manager and companion, Devon Drake.

Voiceover- "The Elven Warrior" is coming to GCW!

The sword slices across the scene and it quickly fades to blackness.

Back to Top


The view on the Megatron skims around the arena and finally zeroes in on the announce table. James Bryan straightens up and looks into the camera.

Bryan: What a night so far! We are halfway through World Wide 104 and what a night we have going on!

Yale: We have three huge matches coming up as we head into the match with Andy Murray and…

A producer runs up to the announcing table waving his hands to stop David Yale from talking. Both announcers look perplexed. They've probably never been interrupted before. Suddenly, both their faces drop but Yale smiles and looks over at the shocked James Bryan.

Bryan: We are going to cut over to what our producer is calling a low speed police chase in the arena. I don’t know what to make of it folks, but we are going to cut over on the Megatron.

The megatron shakes and then cuts over to a shaky shot of Zacharia Taylor driving a security cart with Garbage Bag Johnny in the passenger seat.

Bryan: This is insane!

Yale: I don’t know [laughs] if you ask me, this is great!

The cameraman is in the back seat of the security cart looking between Taylor and Johnny; Taylor with a sadistic look of crazed anger and Johnny with the look of fear. Three security carts are in hot pursuit of the men as well as several men on foot.

Bryan: So not only murder, but now resisting arrest and grand theft . . .

Yale: It’s a golf cart, JB! Grand Theft Golf Cart? Really?

Taylor takes a quick turn down a narrow hall, losing one of the carts, which skids and turns over and possibly explodes., The men in the two other carts, having perhaps dodged their way through a fiery course, continue to follow.

Zacharia Taylor: We need to lose them, and you are going to help me do that!

GBJ: What do you want me to do? Release marbles?

Taylor takes another turn and is now in the main transport hall again.

Zacharia Taylor: Let me worry about that, just do as I say.

GBJ: But…

Zacharia Taylor: Do what I say Johnny! You want me at NC-17 don’t you?

GBJ: I'm stuck with you now.

Zacharia Taylor: If I’m not there, things will be worse for you, I promise you that!

Before Johnny can say anything at all, Taylor whips around another corner, nearly knocking Johnny out of the cart, but the cameraman can’t hold and flies off and rolls into the hall. The camera slides, showing the two remaining carts swerve out of the way to avoid him. One cart hits the wall causing all inhabitants to fly out of the cart while the other slides into the camera as the picture goes to static.

Bryan: Well, it looks like they may have gotten away for now!

Yale: I am told that Arena security is working with the Phoenix Police which is accordance with Clifton Police back in New Jersey to apprehend Zacharia Taylor.

Bryan: It will be interesting to see how Johnny plays out as what seems like Taylor’s hostage!

Yale: We lost our feed and now its time to turn to Andy Murray vs. that cheating cheater Jacob McKail!

Back to Top

The megatron spins around the arena and lands on a shirtless fan screaming at the camera holding a sign saying "The Scottish King of Cool" on it. The fans go nuts around him as they see themselves on the screen. A guy tries to jump in front of the fan with the sign but the fan pushes back. Before you know it, there’s a fight breaking out with security running over.

The screen goes over to David Yale and James Bryan sitting at the announcer’s table.

Bryan: It seems that the fans of the famous Andy Murray are also bogged down with fighting for honor and respect.

Yale: It would seem so, JB, as tonight all started at World Wide 103 when Mr. Murray ran into the accused Match Fixer Jacob McKail after his long jaded search that night for Jay Terror.

Bryan: And there is no way Andy Murray will go an easy night until after NC-17 when the Scottish King of Cool is up against The Established Jay Terror.

Yale: It will be interesting to see if Jacob McKail can pull this win off tonight. It’s no easy bout, but McKail has pulled out surprises before!

Bryan: Like when, David?

Yale: What about the fact that he is the holder of the American Dream?

Bryan: That’s right! Besides that disastrous attempt to cash it in several weeks ago against Garbage Bag Johnny, McKail has really been playing it low key in the United States Division. It would be hard to step into the middle of the craziness that Garbage Bag Johnny and Zacharia Taylor have set up, understood, but he has really been low key!

Yale: Low key until the day he snaps into action and pulls off surprises!

Bryan: Possibly, but I guess we will just have to see what he has up his sleeve!

Yale: You don’t think he’s actually fixing matches do you?

Bryan: Err, that’s not what I meant by that, but now that we are this discussion, I’d have to say that I don’t. I don’t see that it is possible to do so in GCW! Zenith and Caldera run a tight ship, not to mention, how many guys here would go for that?

Yale: You know what, I’d have to agree with you , JB, I don’t see where it can be true. Not to mention that McKail has said many times over that he hasn’t.

Bryan: Either way, Andy Murray is not happy with the possibility, and he is going to really make McKail feel it.

The ring announcer makes his way into the ring and clears his throat. The fans start to quiet down, and all eyes face the center of the ring.

Ring Announcer: The following match is scheduled for one fall, all rules apply. Introducing first, from the Bronx, New York, weighing in at 212lbs.......JACOB MCKAIL!!!!!!

The PA system comes alive with the Foo Fighters’ "All My Life" as pyro ignites all around the stage area...

All my life I've been searching for something
Something never comes, never leads to nothing
Nothing satisfies but I'm getting close
Closer to the prize at the end of the rope.


The stage turns to nothing more than a platform of smoke until positioned right before the GCW MegaTron, Jacob McKail appears, with a serious expression etched into his face.

Done, done, on to the next one.

The fans regard him, as he regards them - with great indifference, as he makes his way down the aisle.

All night long I dream of the day
When it comes around and its taken away
Leaves me with the feeling that I fear the most
Feeling comes alive when I see your ghost.


McKail slides under the bottom ropes and stand in the middle to look around the arena. Not breaking his serious look, he walks to the corner waiting for his competitor.

Done, done, on to the next one.

The crowd becomes quite as the PA system starts to die down.

DUN-DUN!

The houselights cut and are replaced with random bursts of blue and white strobes as two hits of the drum signal the start of "Rise" by The Cult. A staccato guitar riff plays out as all attention turns towards the top of the ramp.

DUN-DUN!

Another hit of the drums as the painfully bright lights continue to flash. Eventually the song hits its stride as the rhythm kicks in and Andy Murray bursts enthusiastically from the back. Two spotlights illuminate the descent of The Scottish King of Cool who slaps hands and high fives a couple of fans on either side of the ramp.

Ring Announcer: Now introducing the 275 pound Scot from Aberdeen, The Scottish King of Cool… ANDY MURRAY!

Eventually Murray comes to the bottom of the ramp and slides into the ring underneath the bottom rope. He immediately makes a b-line for the nearest corner and hauls himself up onto the second turnbuckle before throwing a fist in the air to the appreciation of the crowd. After a couple of seconds of posing he removes the aviator shades from his face and the leather jacket from his back, handing both to the referee as he prepares to fight.

Bryan: It seem like we have a fight!

Yale: Look at the Scottish King of Cool stare down McKail!

The megatron focuses in on Andy Murray’s face as he lips, "You won’t be able to fix this one" to McKail. This pisses McKail off as he dives forward after him. As if something out of a movie, the second McKail’s fist touches Murray’s face, the bell sounds, accenting the hit. The crowd goes crazy as the fight begins.

Bryan: What a sucker punch!

Murray regains his footing and dodges the second punch thrown and then grabs the third with his right hand and starts to squeeze. He pulls McKails arm into him and uses a hip toss to get McKail to the ground. McKail hit’s the mat with a smack, but goes for a sweep kick, which fails. McKail’s leg hits Murray’s like a stick on a rock, without moving it at all. Murray picks up McKail and kicks him in the gut. As McKail bends over in pain, he is met with a solid knee to the jaw. As another knee comes up to his face, he is stops it, but then is countered by the Scott with a falling elbow to the back of his head.

Murray pulls him to his feet and Irish Whips him into the corner.

Bryan: The Scottish King of Cool is really on fire tonight!

Murray runs towards his opponent and does a jumping lariat, crushing him in the corner, causing him to fall to a sitting position. Murray raises his massive right leg and thrusts it into his opponent’s face…

Yale: But Murray is countered!

Bryan: McKail has the Scott’s foot!

McKail, foot in hand, uses the leverage of the bottom rope and turnbuckle to jump up and flip the Scott onto his back. Mckail, still holding onto the foot goes for a figure four leg lock, but has a hard time locking the leg completely. Veins are bulging in every part of his arms as he tries to wretch Murray’s leg in place between his, but eventually Murray breaks free.

Bryan: McKail tried to end it early, but Andy’s sheer strength pulled him out of that one.

Murray gets to his feet and lifts his right leg to stretch it a little bit after McKail pulled on it. McKail makes his way to his feet as Murray darts forward and football tackles him to the ground. Murray gets to his feet right away and leg drops onto McKail’s chest. He lifts him to his feet and hits him with a right then a left then ends it with a massive clothesline. McKail rolls around holding his neck.

Murray raises his hands to the fans as they go crazy. Signs relating to the Scott bounce up and own in the arena. Murray turns around as McKail gets to his feet. Murray gets into a grapple with his opponent, but McKail pulls off the fall away slam. The massive body of the Scott silences the crowd with its thud. McKail does an elbow drop on the Scott and then lifts him up just to do a angle slam. Murray hit’s the ground and McKail runs over to the corner turnbuckle and gets to the middle of the ropes. Murray gets up and looks in the opposite direction to where McKail is. The crowd takes a deep breath as McKail leaves the ropes and dropkicks Murray to the ground.

Bryan: It looks like McKail is pulling it off!

Yale: I told you that he can pull off surprises!

Murray rolls around for a moment and attempts to get to his feet but is then hit with the bionical elbow, sending him to his knee. McKail goes for the spinning heel kick, but his leg is grabbed by the Scott and his thrown sideways, spinning him around. Murray is open for the opportunity for a massive DDT, smashing McKail’s head into the mat. The thud makes everyone jump to their feet once more, rooting for the fan favorite king!

Murray picks McKail up by the shoulders but gets a strong elbow to the gut. Murray tries to push through it, but McKail hits him again with another strong elbow. Murray backs up, giving McKail the opportunity to get to his feet. Murray runs at McKail and goes for his back, but McKail slides behind the Scott and punches him in the lower back. Murray goes straight and holds his back in pain!

Bryan: That’s not right! He knows Murray has a bad back!

Yale: Anything to win I guess, but you know that McKail is going to pay for that, dearly.

McKail spins him around and Irish Whips the Scott into the corner. McKail goes for a clothesline but the Scott, infuriated, grabs Jacob’s arm and throws him into the turnbuckle.

Bryan: The ring looked like it was nearly going to flip the way he smacked into the turnbuckle!

Yale: I wouldn’t go that far, JB, but I thought the turnbuckle was surely going to break!

Bryan: Made me think of Knight and Murray at Dangerous Games!

Yale: How far we’ve come from then!

Murray delivers a massive right then a left cross. McKail loses his footing, but Murray picks him up and throws him back against the turnbuckle. The Scott punches him again and then grabs him around the neck and turns around and jumps.

Bryan: What a bulldog from the Scottish King of Cool.

Murray gets up and then picks up the stunned Jacob McKail. Murray whips him into another turnbuckle and rushes in, shoulder ramming him twice before backing up for another punch.

Yale: McKail is struggling to get back to dominance. He is trying to stay on his feet.

Bryan: There is a little blood coming from the mouth of McKail!

McKail pushes up on the middle ropes to get a strong position as Murray is punching him. Murray grabs McKail and puts him on the top rope. The crowd goes crazy! Murray punches McKail in the stomach and then grabs for his head…BUT WAIT!

Bryan: Murray is down! Murray is down!

Yale: What an incredible swinging DDT by McKail!

Bryan: Murray never saw it coming!

The megatron turns from the two men laying on their stomachs in the middle of the ring to an instant replay. Murray punches McKail in the stomach and reaches for his face, but then McKail grabs around Murray’s neck and swings around using the leverage of the ropes to swing Murray around and slam him to the mat. As the replay goes through it again in slow motion, the crowd boos.

Bryan: McKail used everything he had to get Murray down!

McKail gets to his feet, very slowly and stretches his back and neck. He winces in pain as he makes his way over to Murray. McKail looks at the ref and looks down at Murray. He rolls him over and goes for the pin.

1...

2...

BREAKOUT!

Bryan: Murray broke out of it!

Yale: The Scott still has it in him for the fight!

Murray stirs, but McKail crawls over and gets a hold of Murray’s legs. He rolls lifts them up and steps over Murray for a Boston Crab!

Bryan: This could be it!

Murray struggles against the submission, but holds his composure. McKail starts to pull, but is obviously in pain and is tired. Murray holds his own until one leg slips from McKail’s grip. Andy kicks up this his loose foot and nails him in the face. His other leg is let free and McKail stumbles.

Yale: Now McKail is going to pay!

Murray stands up and arches his back. McKail goes for a grapple but Murray does a strong DDT the second their hands touch. McKail’s feet sprawl out on all sides. Murray stands up next to him and looks around the arena.

Bryan: I feel something big!

Murray raises his hands to the crowd, making them go nuts. He goes over to his opponent and lifts him up by the neck. Andy Murray lifts him into a vertical suplex and holds him there. The crowd is electrified. Andy walks around the ring a little bit, with McKail hanging in the air.

Bryan: Murray loves playing with the crowd! He’s using the crowd to build up his finisher!

Yale: Love his presence! The Highland Hangover is the perfect move for him!

Andy smiles to the crowd, looks both ways, and then performs the fishermen’s driver into the ground. As McKail smacks the mat, headfirst, the crowd jumps up to their feet. Murray walks around McKail, and blows kisses to the crowd. A pair of sunglasses is thrown into the ring from the crowd. Murray picks them up, dusts them off, and puts them on. He takes a bow before moving to McKail for the pin.

1...

2...

3...

Ring Announcer: And winner by pinfall, Andy Murray!

Bryan: Look at the Scottish King of Cool taking it all in!

Yale: I guess this shows that McKail can’t fix his own matches, especially in the ring with one of the toughest men in GCW!

Bryan: This doesn’t prove much at all, but what a spectacle it was. I really thought that Murray was going to lose for a moment there, but as always, he takes it standing and makes quick work of McKail!

Yale: This was a message for Terror, if not directly, but it was the result of his actions.

Bryan: Andy truly is the real good guy of GCW. He cleans up and makes good work of it. And does it all fair.

Yale: This was a great match for the Scott to go into NC-17.

Bryan: A good message for Terror!

The megatron zooms into the cheering Scott and then fades to the GCW logo.

Back to Top






The room is dim, poorly lit. A small sliver of light appears, and than a head appears in the doorway. Chris Storm looks left, right, left, than right again. He opens the door more and waves in Stone.

Storm: "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumber are at lunch."

Stone: "What do they eat?"

Storm: "Cat?"

Stone: "Fucking gross. Wait. You know what the call a cat right?"

They both break out in laughter and high five each other.

Storm: "Ok shush. Got the ammo?"

Stone pulls two cans of spray paint from his pocket, spins one, than hands it to his partner. "Aye Aye captain."

They begin to move slyly through the Oblivion locker room. They see three duffel bags, and immediately begin to sort through everything. Storm grabs Shaman’s jock strap and pinches his nose. Stone starts to giggle. "Got the hot sauce?" Both men start laughing again.

Storm:"Ok seriously."

Stone: "Seriously?"

Storm: "Seriously."

Stone: "Awesome!"

They both start to walk in the bathroom area. They both freeze in their tracks.

Stone: "What the?"

In the tub, is a thick red substance, it’s slowly pouring over the side of the tub, staining the side porcelain and floor red.

Storm: "That can’t be blood can it?"

Stone: "Well, it could be Kimbusa’s mom’s period?"

Storm: "Dude! Uncalled for!!"

Stone: "My bad."
Storm: "Yeah, we all know this tub couldn’t hold that!"

Stone: "Hey look!!"

Stone points towards the tub, and a small gurgle of bubbles starts to float at the surface of the tub. Storm get’s closer to it to inspect it.

Storm: "Dude, what is that?"

A giant hand erupts from the tub and grabs Storm’s throat. He yelps as Stone jumps and turns around to run off. He’s met by a giant clothesline from Shaman. He lays there motionless. Storm’s face begins to turn blue as the hand choking him has an owner. Slowly sitting up in the bloody water is Bryan Mayhem. Storm’s clothes are starting to become bloodied from it dripping from Mayhem’s hand. Storm’s eyes start to bug out.

Stone starts to move slowly. But is met with a kick to the head by Kimbusa that drops him again, rendering him unconscious.

Mayhem still clutching the throat of Storm stands up. He throws Storm into the wall. He bounces and lands awkwardly, but still aware of his surroundings. He begins to cough gasping for air that was at one time extinguished from his lungs. Shaman squats down inches from Storm’s face. Shaman’s hair starts to jolt with each cough from Storm.

Shaman: "Put your hands over your head, it allows your lungs to expand. You’ll have your breathe in a second."

Storm puts his arms above his head and starts to take deep breathes until he’s kicked right in the stomach by Kimbusa. He grunts and lets out a cry of pain. Spittle forms at his lips as he rolls down into the fetal position.

Shaman: "For weeks your games have done nothing but ignited my rage. However, I have a thing called respect. Longest running tag champs of all time. Because of my respect for that feat I allowed Mayhem to let you go. Otherwise you’d be leaving this room with a toe tag."

Storm’s eyes are blood shot and he’s finally able to catch his breathe.

Shaman: "You and your buddy have a date with hell at NC-17. Enjoy these final breathes little man. Welcome to Oblivion."

Oblivion walk away. Mayhem leaves bloody footprints as he walks away. Storm and Stone are both starting to get up and move around slowly.

Stone: "Dude, that sucked."

Storm: "Totally."

Back to Top


It's straight to the hip and happening GCW backstage area once again, this time we find Andy Murray shuffling through the corridors at a leisurely pace. Locked in a kind of post-match haze and with a white towel draped over his shoulder, The Scottish King slowly makes his way towards his locker-room with weighted footsteps.

Bryan: Well, there's Andy Murray again. Straight out of a hard fought match with Jacob McKail...

Yale: Listen to the fans, JB! Why do they cheer this fool? He's a coward for turning down Jay Terror's challenge.

Bryan: I still think that there's a lot more to come from this situation, Dave. Andy Murray is perhaps the most honourable competitor left in GCW, and he's never been one to back down from a challenge. I'm sure he's got a plan...

As Bryan stops talking, a heated also sweaty Jay Terror walks into frame with an angry snarl patched onto his face. He walks up to Murray slowly but deliberately making sure he notices him.

Yale: And I'm sure Jay has a plan too! Look at him, he's going to rip Andy's head off.

Bryan: Well he's fresh out of that match with Oblivion a little earlier tonight and I think he's looking to force that proposal down Andy's throat like he said.

Yale: I'm assuming so. There's no way you can reject an offer made by Jay Terror.

Murray: Christ almighty. You're keen tonight, eh Jay?

Defensively holding his hands up, Andy lets a typically mocking smile crawl across his lips.

Jay Terror: Wipe that grin off your crummy little face you fuckin' coward. You think your world is all butterlies and daffodils now that you don't have to fight me, huh? You're just skipping through meddows of fluffy cotton and picking it up as you go. Wrong. Andy Murray, you can not refuse my challenge. I won't let you. I don't care how many times you want to say no and walk away like nothing happened, I won't stand for it. Steven Caldera gave me his power in his absense and I think it's time I start making some decisions about the shit you can and can't do. This is one of them. Quit being such a fuckin' pansy and man up. I figured you grew a pair but I guess you lost them out there with McKail. I'll give you one last chance, take this match.

Murray: ... are you done yet?

He doesn't even offer him the time to reply.

Murray: 'Cause that little rant was entertaining and all, bu-

Jay Terror: Don't you ever shut the fuck up?!

Terror takes a step forward, now just centimeters away from the Admiral of Awesome. Tetchy, he balls a fist.

Jay Terror: If any more of that cryptic bullshit comes outta your mouth, Murray, I'm gonna shove my boot so far up your ass your grandchildren will feel the bruise. It's a simple question. Have you or have you not got the balls to face me at NC-17?

Jay's getting anxious, tapping his knuckles against his thigh. Andy, on the other hand, adopts an over-exaggerated contemplative facial expression. He bites his lip.

Jay Terror: Well do you?!

Andy pauses, trying Jay's patience for as long as possibly without making the man snap. Finally a lightbulb goes off above his head. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, he reaches into the pocket of his glitzy wrestling robe.

Bryan: What on Earth...

He pulls out a small sheet of paper and unfolds it to its full A4 size.

Murray: BOOM!

He thrusts the sheet into Jay's chest with great force. Confused, Jay sets about deciphering the words.

Murray: What, did you really think I was going to shirk a challenge from you of all people? Gimme a break.

Jay's face turns sour as he slowly begins to realise what the document he has in his hands is. Andy begins to walk away, brushing passed Jay. He turns to face the former GCW World Champion, walking backwards.

Murray: Throw down your John Hancock and have it on Zenith's desk by the end of the night. Surely even you can manage that...

Jay Terror: ... you worthless piece of shit...

The camera finds its way towards the piece of paper. Particularly, the bold heading:-

GCW MATCH CONTRACT

Bryan: ... what!?!

Yale: You mean to say...?!

Bryan: Oh my God! Andy Murray's had the match contract all along!

Yale: Are you kidding me?!

Bryan: He's been stringing Jay along all night! Hahahaha!

Suddenly, predictably, Jay drops the contract and charges at Murray. He throws his fists wildly, but Murray meets him well and fights back immediately.

Bryan: This is nuts! Andy Murray's had Jay Terror in his back pocket all night long, and Jay didn't even realise! And now the two of them are about to tear each other's head off in the backstage area!

Almost immediately the conveniently-placed security team are all over it and on top of things. They get between the two, although it takes considerable effort (and numbers) to separate them. Andy is more than happy to walk away and raises his hands, but Jay's like a pitbull. Chomping at the bit to tear Murray's throat out.

Yale: Andy Murray, once again, has shown his true colours. What a devious, deceptive son of a bitch.

Bryan: This was an absolute stroke of genius in my book! He's played Jay like a fiddle all night, and Jay didn't have a clue! Murray lured him in; he made him think that he wasn't going to face him at NC-17, when it turns out he had the contract on his person all along!

Yale: This wasn't a smart move at all, JB. As if Terror wasn't angry enough as it is; now Murray's walking right into a house of fire at NC-17.

Back to Top


Bryan: Welcome back folks, and we're coming to the tail end of an already eventful Worldwide, and Jordan White has still yet to show his face after that absolutely brutal assault on LeStatt Knight last show, even though he's scheduled for a title defense tonight. What do you make of that, Yale?

Yale: I see how it is. Prescribe emotions to Jordan all you want while you think he's a good guy, but when he shows just a little bit of bloodlust, you come running to me. Look, JB, as far as this goes, it's exactly what it looks like. Jordan had the audacity to tear into Knight with that title last time around: of course he's laying low. If he hides long enough, he might think that Knight could just forget it, move on.

Bryan: That's a fool's errand, Yale, and Jordan White doesn't come across like an outright fool.

Yale: To you, maybe. Look, you know as well as I do how this all susses out: Jordan White is, and I hate to admit this, but he's a good wrestler, okay? He is the champion. He's stubborn as hell. But, Knight? Knight's a monster, Knight's a multiple time World Champion, Knight's a legacy. And even after though Jordan came at him with the belt after the match the Taylor, Knight's still walking. I wouldn't be surprised if Jordan didn't make it to the arena until it was time for the main event. You know he's hoping that Knight lets him make it to NC-17 at this point.

The lights die.

Cameras cast quick bursts, leave ghosts as the lyrics come in.

I-ya
I against I.


They're on their feet in an instant, they bring to rise the question of if they cheer for White or if they just jeer Knight to the depths of their souls.

Yale: Ha! Where's your speak of the devil now, JB?

There are no words. There's a black terror of a man descending the ramp, succumbing to shadow even as the house lights rise. GCW's prestige, GCW's premier; GCW's most historically dominant force is sauntering down under a rain of "fuck you!," of "go to hell!," of no one sane of mind enough to even attempt a chant. Individual hatreds break across Knight's back and make no purchase at shaking his stomp. He glances across them before he climbs to the apron, fists held high.

He looks into himself for his timing, his music lost to the crowd's passion, rage.

Fire booms crimson.

Stepping through the ropes, sneering cold, LeStatt produces a microphone from his pocket.

The audience calms, makes one last thrust at violence, then finds a point of relaxation barely below an excessive decibel limit.

Knight: You don't have to be scared, Jordan.

He smiles.

Knight: I'm just a man. I'm just not the kind of man you've met before, son. What you did to me last Worldwide was something new for you, wasn't it? You were letting something out, you were trying to end my career before I had my chance at beating you the right way. Before I could take your belt at NC-17. I've heard a lot of people talking since then, about just how far you went. People called it sick, people called it dirty, people called it despicable. People looked at that little display and they called it brutal. Brutal?

He laughs.

Knight: You walked down that ramp, and you hit me with one little kick, and it didn't stop me. Two couldn't keep me down. Then you didn't trust the third. You took that belt, and you aimed at brain damage--I know damned well what you did. You sent me to the doctor, son, and you know what he told me? It was a mild concussion. Hah! Mild. That's not brutal. I don't give a damn what your intentions were, frankly, because what you did was nothing. I've lived brutality, I've breathed brutality, I've built my entire career on the broken bones of people just like you, people that thought they were big enough to take me down. People that lost their heads to the game. People that got all mixed up in the image, that never really stopped to consider how a man earns a reputation like mine. You want to know how, in a federation with people like Shaman, like Bryan Mayhem, you want to know how I get called the most twisted motherfucker that's ever graced this ring?

The crowd boos. A fledgling "Michael Stevens!" chant starts from the back, works its way to the front where it draws competition from waves of "Jason Dread!" Knight regards it all with a passing chuckle, a deep bellow from his ribs and nothing more.

Knight: Watch. Remember what you've forgotten, remember what you were too young to be around for.

The arena lights dim as the Megatron cracks to life, black before video rolls in gray tones and high contrast. The audio is distorted, like through water or hazily recollected dreams.

Hanson picks Stevens high into the air for the 8th Deadly Sin! The crowd explodes, but Knight suddenly springs forward with uncanny agility! As Hanson hoists Stevens high over his head, Knight steps in front of Hanson! With nowhere to go, Hanson is trapped. Knight grabs Hanson and, with uncanny strength, pulls Hanson into the Knightfall, causing Hanson to hit the powerbomb on Stevens at the same time!!!

Black.

Knight climbs back out of the ring and pulls Dread down, then grabs him by the head and throws him violently against the ring apron. Knight takes Dread by the arm and whips him hard into the guardrail, and Dread hits with such force that the section gives way and he flies into the stands! Security rushes to keep the fans from entering the ring area as Knight looks on with a smile of satisfaction.

Black.

Knight steps to the second turnbuckle and pulls Stevens up. Knight suddenly leaps into the air and catches Stevens by the head, tossing him off the turnbuckle with a reverse frankensteiner! The crowd explodes as Stevens lands face-first on the mat and Knight nimbly springs back to his feet.

Black.

Just as Dawn is ready to take off, Knight miraculously nips up and leaps into the turnbuckle! A shocked McFarlane is stunned as Knight lands directly before her, locking her from in front and dragging her off the turnbuckle into a massive KnightFall! The crowd explodes as the two hit the mat with incredible impact, and Knight smoothly flips her over for a cover!

Black.

Knight suddenly dodges a right hand and hooks Dread, dropping him straight down into a huge KnightFall! The table explodes as the two fly through, and the crowd begins the faithful "Holy Shit!" chant as they survey the damage! Knight and Dread lie reeling as Briggs scrambles out to help!

Red.

Knight turns to see Dread back on his feet, and Knight charges with a big clothesline. Knight drops Dread to the floor and comes to a stop in front of the Spanish announce table. Knight pulls a monitor off the Spanish table and violently rips it free of its wires, turning back to Dread. Dread stands and turns right into a huge swing of the monitor from Knight, and the collision of metal and skull sends sparks flying through the air.

Red.

Outside of the ring, Knight, reeling, touches his hand to his forehead, where a thin line of blood is beginning to trickle on his face. Stevens backs away from Knight and waits for the champion to rise, then charges full steam ahead. Knight snaps his head down and catches Stevens in a back body drop, tossing him a mile in the air! Stevens crashes down onto the steel steps, his spine cracking against the metal! Stevens rolls off the steps with a thud and lies in agony on the floor, as Knight immediately moves in for the kill.

Bryan: OH MY GOD! Stevens just got launched into those damn steps, and that might be it for him right there! What a sickening move from the World Champion!


Red.

Jason Dread is splayed in the middle of the ring, steel chair wrapped around his knee. Knight hops onto the second rope and quickly takes off, nailing a precision elbow drop on the chair! Dread screams out in pain as Knight snatches the microphone from Briggs.

Knight: Do you believe now, Jason?!

Knight stomps on the chair again, earning another pained wail from Dread.

Knight: SAY IT!

Knight stomps again, but Dread shakes his head.

Dread: NO!

Knight: SAY IT!

Knight stomps on the chair one more time, but Dread finally kicks it off his ankle and drags himself away from Knight.

Bryan: Good God, there's no way Knight didn't break Dread's ankle there!


Red.

Terror smiles and stands, but never sees Knight coming. Knight delivers a crushing right hand to Terror’s face, sending him down to the mat. He then grabs his steel chair and waits for Terror to stand, where he promptly delivering a crushing overhead swing to the face. Terror goes down hard, and after a moment a stream of blood appears on Terror’s face. The crowd erupts in boos as Knight begins screaming at Terror, dropping the chair beside him in warning.

Red.

Murray charges Knight, but this time it’s Knight that traps Murray. He lifts Murray up and delivers a huge belly to belly of his own, tossing Murray hard into the broken turnbuckle. Murray’s careening weight causes the ring post to give, and the ring ropes snap off with a violent reverberation. The post topples down to the ground, with Andy Murray lying on top of it.

Bryan: OH MY GOD! THE RING EXPLODED!

Yale: YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!

Bryan: MURRAY HIT THE GROUND! OH MY GOD!

The crowd explodes in absolute shock. The officials crowd around the carnage, jaws agape, exchanging confused and stunned glances. The ring finally stops shaking just in time for the officials to call for the bell, sending a deafening roar up in the stands.

Yale: HE’S DONE IT! KNIGHT HAS DONE IT!

Bryan: THERE’S THE BELL! LeSTATT KNIGHT HAS WON DANGEROUS GAMES!!!!


And the lights return, and the world is focused on a snarling Knight who, however inhuman they claim him as, takes some noticeable amount of pride in his work. In his craft.

Knight: See, Jordan? What you're trying to become, what you want to be in order to take me down? I am that. I have been that, and I will be that until somebody finally puts me in the grave. I brought this company up from the ground with it--and I'll goddamned well tear it all down again, piece by piece, bit by bit, come NC-17. You don't have to come out here, you don't have to show your face to convince your fans that you're really a tough sonofabitch. I just had to make my point and make it clear, son, because I'm not convinced you listen the first time somebody tells you something. All that matters is that you see me here tonight, even though you tried to stop me; that you see what I do when wrestlers try to get in my way. That you know exactly what you've gotten yourself into.

His teeth are bared in something that is not a smile. He steps towards the ropes, anticipating the return of Massive Attack.

It doesn't come.

It's Tricky, and a few fans in the audience note the similarities between the artists before they begin their cheers like explosions. Knight pauses, his eyelids cocked as he stares at the entry way, the hanging curtain.

Bryan: Here he is! Jordan White is definitely in the arena now, fans, and he's not letting this go without a response!

Yale: Knight said it himself, but, I feel I need to reiterate as a question, so I can get an answer. What the hell's the kid gonna prove?

Bryan: That he's keeping his eye on the man? That he's waiting, that he's prepared? I don't give a damn what he has or doesn't have to prove--he's our World Champion, Yale, and he's the only thing standing between us and another reign from LeStatt Knight!

Yale: What's so bad about that?

Jordan White appears to be taking his time, letting the beat ride into a chorus. The fans join in with the song's torpid pace, chanting dirgelike alongside it.

Bryan: Jordan White will have his second title defense tonight before he makes it to his first pay-per-view with that belt. A man like that deserves the title as much as we deserve a champion with that sort of drive, that sort of dedication to the sport.

Yale: Oh yeah. We deserve a champion that'll beat himself up and then come into NC-17 at less than 100 percent. I just can't agree with that one, JB.

James Bryan regards his earpiece; Jordan White breaks through the curtain, the gold belt in his hand, the leather strap dragging along the metal of the walkway. There is no cessation from the crowd, no relenting. They hate Knight or they love Jordan and it doesn't matter which is truest under the sheer volume of their, well. Their volume. Knight makes a fist around the top rope, dipping his head as he cuts cold blue eyes to Jordan.

Knight: You couldn't stop me last time. What're you gonna do now, Frank?

The World Champion shakes his head, adjusting his jacket with his free hand. LeStatt is faking a cower, mouthing "oh no" without sound.

Jordan raises the title into the light.

It shines vibrant, brilliant, shimmering. It is pristine; save for the blood--LeStatt's blood--dried and black, splattered across its plates. He is staring to Knight and Knight is staring to him and there is no motion from either man. The crowd is eating it up, waiting for any gesture, however slight, to spring their excitation at. Tension. Anxiety. A calm before a storm they want to watch crash.

And Jordan drops the belt to his side again, turning. He exits the curtains as he entered--without a word--as "Hell is 'Round the Corner" draws to a close.

LeStatt seems surprised. Maybe humored. Maybe amused. He's a difficult man to read.

Bryan: And Jordan White has made his points, Yale.

Yale: Since you're so prescient, JB, what were they, exactly?

Bryan: He's the champion, and Knight's going to have to take that belt from him. Anything more than that, and I believe it's to something along the lines of: if at first you don't succeed--

Yale: Try, try again? Look, I'll put it to you like I had it put to me. Do or do not; there is no try.

Bryan: Uh huh. Disregarding that nugget of. Something. Yale, I don't mean to condescend to you, but don't you think that every man has a limit? That, if Jordan White can maintain the level of aggression he was at when he attacked Knight after his last match, there is a point where Knight simply won't be able to take anymore?

Yale: You really have your money on Jordan White in a war of attrition? Really?

Bryan: He beat Rollins in the Ironman match, Yale--you're damned right I've got faith in him.

Yale: All kindness to corpses and all, but the Renegade wasn't half as sick as Knight. You were there for every match in his highlight reel. You know the depths that this man lives in. Jordan White's going to have to do more than look tough and keep his mouth shut to retain. He's going to have to get just as raw, just as ill, and just as, well, as diabolical as Knight if he wants to stand a chance.

Bryan: And I think he just committed to that, Yale. There simply are no more words to be shared between these two--they've both spoken until there was nothing left to say, and after their back and forth attacks, they've come to a stalemate. It's going to come down to NC-17, and it's going to come down to which of these men can get the pin--I'll be damned surprised if either of them walk away after the hell they're brewing. And before all of that, even, Jordan White still has to come out tonight and survive a title defense against an unnamed opponent.

Yale: That's becoming a trend.

Bryan: He's getting sharper--Jordan's learning how to use psychology to his advantage before the bell even sounds. Of course, if there's anything to his confrontation with Bagwell last Worldwide, I could hazard a few guesses as to who he's going to be going against.

Yale: Bagwell and Knight at NC-17 does sound good, doesn't it?

Bryan, shrugging Yale off in a manner he has cultivated over the years: Beyond that, though, we have a definite confrontation between Lia Ambrosi and Face to look forwards to, and any number of other surprises still in store as the road to NC-17 heats up. We'll be right back after this short break.

Back to Top


Bryan: I'm getting word that long-time friend and one-time boyfriend of Vivica J. Valentine, Markus, is backstage right now with Kevin Jacobs, Dave.

Yale: I haven't seen that guy around in some time! What's he doing here, JB?

Bryan: I'm not entirely sure but unless his time is purely coincidental, I'd venture to think he's here to see Vivica in action as she's set to take on Face in just a few minutes.

Yale: What are we waiting for? Let's send it backstage to Kevin!

The cameras cut backstage to the Worldwide backdrop where GCW backstage interviewer Kevin Jacobs is standing by with Vivica J. Valentine's close friend Markus.

Kevin Jacobs: Well, you heard it right! I'm currently joined by a great friend of the Fearless Phenom right now. Markus! How are you?

Markus: Doing great, Kevin. Glad to be backstage at a GCW show again. Its been far too long for me.

Jacobs: What brings you here tonight?

Markus: I actually got a unexpected invitation from Vivica to meet her here tonight after her match.

Jacobs: Wow! A rekindling romance brewing between you two?

Markus chuckes, blushing in the process.

Markus: Well...

All of a sudden, Chris Bagwell comes storming onto the set with a steel chair. He demolishes it over the back of Markus' head, sending him to the ground. Jacobs drops his microphone and takes off on a dead sprint, worried he's going to suffer a similar fate as Ayake.

Bryan: I THOUGHT THIS WAS OVER WITH?!!?

Bagwell bashes the chair down on Markus' side unrelenting, while wearing a smile on his face the entire time. He circles around Markus' body while Markus curls up in a ball in excessive pain.

Yale: I don't really know what prompted this, JB. I'm just as clueless here.

Bryan: Chris Bagwell is a sick man. Markus doesn't even have any affiliation with the company. It's one thing to attack staff members, but now he's really taking things too far.

After a few more shots, Bagwell drops the chair along side Markus' body. He lifts Markus up to his feet from behind.

Yale: Well he's helping him up at least.

Bagwell quickly thrusts his arms up underneath Markus' and clasps his hands together behind Markus' head.

Bryan: Helping him up? He just put him in a full nelson!

Bagwell applies major pressure to the back of Markus' neck, lifting him in the air and shaking him around. Markus kicks and squeals, trying to escape. Its obvious he's not going anywhere.

Yale: I just don't know what to say about this. He must be doing this to get at Valentine.

Bryan: He's doing it because he's sick in the head. He already got what he wanted. He already got his match. Now he's trying to show his muscle because we gave in to him. This is unbelievable!

After a few minutes, Markus' body finally goes limp and just dangles in Bagwell's arms. The only movement is that in which is caused by Bagwell's whipping Markus around. The Torn Soul releases Markus, letting his body crash to the ground as medical personnel wait in the distance to avoid getting anyone else injuried.

Yale: It looks like he's done...

Chris scoops the microphone off the floor and puts his face next to the unconcious Markus'.

Bagwell: By the way, that letter -- it wasn't from your little girlfriend. It was from me!

Bryan: My God, Bagwell set this up all along!!

Yale: He sent Markus a letter to get him here and posed it from vivica, knowing Markus would come!

Bryan: He's just trying to get inside the head of Vivica Valentine. But this -- this is going too far.

Yale: I don't think Vivica even has a clue. She's just about to come out here in a moment for her match against Face.

Bryan: Chris Bagwell will pay. He'll definitely pay!

Bagwell returns to his feet and drops the microphone onto Markus' head. He struts away, staring down the medical staff and preying on their obvious fear. Coincidentally, just as Bagwell walks away Rufio and Jagi walk by Markus.

Yale: The Aristocrats!

Bryan: Didn't these staff members pay The Aristocrats earlier to make sure Bagwell didn't hurt anyone else? Like a protection policy?

Yale: They sure didn't hold up on their end of the bargain!

Jagi and Rufio, seeing the limp body of Markus as the medical staff rush over, look at one another realizing what just happened. They're immediately approached by near staff, demanding that something be done or that a refund be in order

Jagi: I thought this guy was supposed to be done beating people up? Isn't that what Zenith said earlier?

Rufio: Thought so but we got our money and we got to get the hell out of here now!!

The Aristocrats quickly scamper away before the angry staffers can heckle them any more.

Bryan: Those conniving pricks! They're going against their word now, too!

Yale: Why don't you go put a stop to Bagwell, then!

Back to Top

Bryan: Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for our next match here tonight!

Yale: It’s time for the toughest test of Face’s career, JB.

Bryan: I can’t disagree with you on that one, Dave. On the last World Wide before what could very well be the biggest show EVER produced by GCW, NC-17, Face is going to have to go up against the longest reigning GCW World Champion ever, Vivica J. Valentine. It’s a giant leap in competition for Face, but I guess he has to get used to it, seeing as how he’s going up against a GCW legend in Lia Ambrosi at NC-17.

Yale: Well, we heard what Face had to say about Lia and, more specifically Lia’s career earlier tonight. He said that Lia’s career will be ENDED at NC-17.

Bryan: Yes, strong words were said earlier tonight by Face, which I’m sure will have some repercussions in this match, seeing as how Vivica and Lia are very close. Coupled with Vivica’s match against Chris Bagwell being announced as an "I Quit" match earlier tonight, I have a feeling Vivica will be looking to make a statement here against Face.

Yale: And that certainly doesn’t bode well for the man behind the mask.

Ding! Ding!

Andrews: The following match is scheduled for one fall!

Darkness consumes the arena as a telling song begins to play: "Master of Puppets" by Metallica. As the opening chords play through, the sickening, twisted, chilling sound of a laugh that can only belong to one man reverberates throughout the arena. Various strobe lights and spotlights throughout the arena shine and blink around the crowd in many shades of red, blue and white. The crowd’s anticipation builds as the opening instrumental of the song begins to wind down.

Andrews: Introducing first...weighing in at two hundred and thirteen pounds...standing six feet, two inches tall...hailing from parts unknown...FAAAAACE!!!

As soon as the lyrics kick in, the spotlights and strobe lights invert in colour, making wherever they shine look strangely inverted as well. At this time, Face comes out from the back, a lighter in his hand that he constantly flicks on and off. He stops center stage and crouches down, his arms up on his knees, which are nearly at the height of his head in this position. Despite his injured knee, he doesn’t seem to be showing any pain in this position. He surveys the crowd through his ‘sightless’ eyes, whoever he sees either trying not to be noticed or flinching away. After a few moments of simply surveying the crowd, Face gets up and starts walking down the entrance ramp, a limp in his step, towards the ring, continuing to flick his lighter on and off like clockwork. Every once and a while he suddenly stops in his place and turns to face a particular nearby fan, his permanent smile not reassuring in the slightest to whomever he faces.

Bryan: Well, it looks like Face is indeed limping from the knee injury he received at the hands of Lia Ambrosi last week. While he doesn’t show much pain when he moves it around, his movement still seems to be impaired.

Yale: And you can be Valentine will use that to her advantage.

The song begins to slowly die out as Face reaches the ring. He stalks along the ropes, staring down at his feet and not really paying attention to the inside of the ring or showing any intent on entering it. However, he soon has a change of heart, it seems, as he suddenly lifts the top rope and swings under in, snapping to attention once inside. The song dies out completely. The lights come back on. Face tosses his lighter to the ref and surveys the crowd, his facial expression unchanging – because it can’t.

Bryan: Face looks as ready as he always does.

Yale: He’s the kind of guy that would be ready to fight anyone on a moment’s notice, JB. Nothing fazes him, which is one of the reasons he’s so damned creepy.

The lights dim to black, with only red lights accenting the entrance stage as the crowd cheers in excitement.

When I quest my flashing sword and my hand takes hold of judgement
I will take vengance upon mine enemies and I will have paid those who haze me
Oh Lord raise me to thy right hand and count me among thy saints...

The familiar beat of "Image Of The Invisible" by Thrice plays over the arena to an appreciative roar from the capacity crowd. Red jailbreak style lights begin to swirl around the arena in a circular pattern accenting the crowd as white and red lights move to beat of the song in the entrance. A hearty roar turned into an earth shaking rumble as The Fearless Phenom herself burst through the curtain and into the arena. Spinning around she threw her arms in the air, telling the few audience members sitting down to get off their feet to chant along as they all pumped their fists in unison...

We’re more than carbon and chemicals...
Crowd: WE ARE THE IMAGE OF THE INVISIBLE!
Free will is ours and we can’t let go...
Crowd: WE ARE THE IMAGE OF THE INVISIBLE!
We can’t allow this, the quiet cull...
Crowd: WE ARE THE IMAGE OF THE INVISIBLE!
We sing out this, our canticle...
Crowd: WE ARE THE IMAGE OF THE INVISIBLE!

Vivica lowers her fist at the end of the verse and makes her way down the aisle with the crowd coming alive. With a hop in her step and slapping fives along the way, the road to the ring was met with a sly yet confidant smirk. At the bottom of the ramp she slider under the bottom rope belly-first into the ring. Somersaulting up to a kneeling position, she flashes her trademark "Flying V" index and pinky extended in the air before jumping up to her feet.

Andrews: And his opponent...weighing in at one hundred and twenty-nine pounds...standing five feet, four inches tall...hailing from Highland Park, Illinois...She was the longest reigning GCW World Heavyweight Champion...She is the Fearless Phenom...VIVICA! J! VAAAAALENNNNTIIIIINE!!!

Walking over to the turnbuckle Valentine shows incredible athleticism launching herself to the top rope, pumping her first in the air with her fans. She claps her hands to show appreciation with a smile and points to the upper reaches of the balcony before doing a back flip off the top rope. Landing with the grace of an Olympic gymnast she spins around before doing the same on the opposite corner for the fans.

We all were lost now we are found
No one can stop us or slow us down
We are all named and we are all known
We know that we’ll never walk alone

With the crowd firmly behind her, Vivica J. Valentine backs into her corner waiting for the match to begin as the sound of "Image Of The Invisible" fades away... but the crowd continues to chant.

Bryan: It looks like Vivica is a little more pumped up than usual for this match.

Yale: Well, I think you’d be crazy not to think Vivica is the hands down favourite in this match, given her recent reign as a world champion and the knee injury Face has. The deck is stacked in her favour and, like you said before, I think Vivica will be looking to make a statement and overwhelm Face here.

Vivica and Face both stare one another down in the final seconds before the start of the match, neither flinching or showing any signs of backing down. The ref looks at both competitors, then calls for the bell!

Ding! Ding!

Bryan: And here we go!

And there Vivica goes, shooting out of the gate with lightning fast speed, catching Face off-guard with a leaping lariat! Face goes down and he’s slightly slower to get up than usual with his knee injury coming into play. Vivica, on the other hand, is up just as fast as she got over there. She uses the extra time to leap up into the ropes and catches the rising Face with a springboard back elbow. Face is down again and Vivica continues her flurry of moves with a standing moonsault!

Bryan: And Valentine is a house of fire in that ring!

Yale: Face isn’t able to get up as quickly as he usually is, which is allowing for Vivica to stay a step ahead of him every time she knocks him down. Face needs to figure out a way to slow the pace of this match.

Valentine gets up from the moonsault and heads straight for the ropes on the opposite side of the ring. Face gets to a knee as Vivica slingshots off the ropes on the rebound. Vivica sets up onto the knee for a shining wizard, but Face ducks and catches the leg, using Vivica’s own momentum to flip her directly into a half Boston crab! Valentine grimaces in pain at first, but her flexibility allows for her to turn her body and reach back with one arm to grab one of Face’s ankles. Vivica pulls Face’s foot out from under him, causing him to tumble forward and allowing Vivica to kick him off for good. The two scramble to their feet, but Vivica is again the quicker to get there. She throws a spinning heel kick, but Face is able to duck under it and counter with a quick kick to back of Vivica’s knee. Vivica buckles forward, but her balance saves her from falling. However, Face is quick to capitalize on her unstable positioning with a spinning back fist that sends Vivica reeling. Face chases after her and catches Valentine with a big STO! Face rolls backwards directly after impact, grabbing at one of Valentine’s legs and applying a knee bar!

Yale: That guy is slick on the ground, JB!

Bryan: Indeed he is, Dave. But, Vivica has remarkable flexibility that Face probably doesn’t usually have to deal with. Either way, this match could be a good chance for Vivica Valentine to show Chris Bagwell how hard it’ll be to make her quit via submission.

Yale: Unless Face submits her right here.

The knee bar is fairly deep from the get go, but Vivica manages to squirm and wiggle her way around a bit until she nearly does the splits to put her leg on what would normally not be a nearby rope for the rope break! The fans cheer, but then boo as Face chooses to torque the knee bar for another four seconds, breaking the hold only just before disqualification. For once, Face is able to get to his feet first, with Vivica still struggling to get up, holding her knee in pain. Face makes the most of this advantage by grabbing Vivica’s hurting leg out from under her and proceeding to kick her hamstring, thigh and knee over and over again!

Bryan: And now Face has taken control of the match. This is where he’s so dangerous, Dave.

Yale: He’s really taking it to Vivica’s leg here, which will most likely even up the playing field in the speed department. Smart strategy as always from Face.

After over a dozen kicks to Vivica’s leg, Face finishes the flurry off by rolling Vivica over into yet another half Boston crab. This time, though, Face pays attention to Vivica’s reaching arms to avoid another trip. After a few fruitless attempts to trip Face up like she had done before, Vivica decides to try and crawl her way over to the nearby ropes. Unfortunately for her, Face has the rare advantage in the strength department in this match, and is able to really sit down in the hold to keep her from going anywhere. The crowd cheers their hero on, but the hold is really starting to burn at her leg and back and she’s finding less and less ways to escape at each attempt.

Bryan: Vivica is really stuck here!

Yale: C’mon, JB. When’s the last time you’ve seen a match finished by a half Boston crab?

There’s a first for everything, but Vivica still has one trick up her sleeve. With a sudden outburst, she powers herself up to her hands and twists underneath her own body to end up looking up at a very confused Face, who is still holding onto one of Vivica’s legs. SMACK! Up comes the other leg into Face’s mask. The up-kick sends Face stumbling backwards and gives Vivica enough time to scramble and limp up to her feet, much to the liking of the crowd. However, the damage is visibly done as Vivica joins Face in the permanent limp department for this match.

Bryan: It looks like both of these competitors could be hurt here, Dave.

Yale: Good. That’ll make Chris Bagwell’s job at NC-17 just that little bit easier…

Face reels against the ropes, before stumbling forwards into a quick roll-up from Viv.

Bryan: There’s the cover!

…1!

…2!

No! Face springs out of the trap.

Bryan: And Vivica almost had him there!

Yale: She really caught Face off-guard. That’s that wily experience shining through.

Bryan: Perhaps she just wants to get this one over and done with. Face isn’t exactly the kind of guy you want to be in the ring with for an extended period of time on a good day, but a week before a big NC-17 match?

Yale: Exactly. He’s sick, twisted and sadistic, and he’ll go to any length whatsoever to pick up a victory, as we’ve seen during past clashes with such luminaries as Mr. Danger.

Both wrestlers are back on their feet now. Vivica seems to be doing the better job of shaking off her war wounds, so she makes the first move, striding towards Face and backing him into the corner. Face, however, uses his superior strength to reverse and tosses Viv into the turnbuckles herself. Stepping backwards, he looks for a dropkick, but Valentine ducks. When Face hits the deck, Viv picks him up and drops him with a swinging neckbreaker.

Bryan: Well it’s normal service resumed here as the former World Champion takes control.

Yale: She’ll need to be careful, though. Face is one of the most dangerous men in GCW right now…

Bryan: I don’t think she’ll be taking anything for granted, Dave. She’ll have done her homework on Face, no doubt.

Yale: But how do you "do your homework" on a guy as unpredictable as this?! Okay, you can watch tapes of his matches and you can research his style, but he’s just got so many tricks up his sleeve that it’s impossible to know what’s coming next!

Face lies face-up on the mat, panting behind his mask. Viv doesn’t allow him any time to recover, though, and soon she’s flying from the ropes, nailing a picture perfect springboard moonsault to the delight of the fans.

Bryan: Lionsault from Valentine! This could be it!

…1!

…2!

NO! Face powers a shoulder up!

Yale: … well, that was a little bit close for comfort.

Vivica rises to one knee, catching her breath and drawing some strength from the pulsating crowd. Soon enough she’s back on her feet as Face uses the ropes to struggle to a seated position.

Bryan: It looks like Vivica Valentine’s got this one in her back pocket, Dave.

Yale: Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, you’re right. He’s going to have to pull something spectacular out of the fire to get back into things…

Bryan: And now Vivica stalking Face, just waiting for him to get up.

Eventually he’s back on his feet, but his balance is all over the place. Turning blindly, Face walks right into Valentine who grabs him by the arm and whips him across the ropes…

Bryan: Valentine with the leg lariat… NO! Ducked by Face!

Valentine bounces back up to her feet but is caught under the chin by the charging Face, who nails a stiff busaiku knee kick!

Yale: My God! What a blow!

Bryan: That’ll dislodge a couple of teeth!

Both competitors are down and out, struggling on the mat. Face is drained from Vivica’s recent spell of domination, while the sudden shock of the knee strike has knocked Viv for six.

"VAL-EN-TINE! VAL-EN-TINE! VAL-EN-TINE!"

The referee begins the mandatory ten count.

…1!

…2!

Bryan: Looks like the referee is aiming for the double knock out here!

…3!

…4!

Yale: Face is moving, though. He’s getting back up!

Bryan: And so is Vivica!

…5!

…6!

…7!

Bryan: Face onto one knee, but Vivica’s still writhing!

…8!

…9!

Yale: … aaaaand Valentine’s up! Pulling herself to a vertical base right in the nick of time!

Sure enough, Valentine’s up against the ropes. Face has been up for a little bit longer, though, and seizes the advantage. He drags Vivica towards the middle of the ring and adopts a prone stance, before launching a couple of stiff kicks straight to his opponent’s ribs. Clutching her torso in pain, Vivica falls to one knee, allowing Face ample time to skip around her and launch a particularly nasty blow straight to the kidneys!

Bryan: OHHHH!

Yale: Face is absolutely BRUTAL with these kicks, JB! He’s really taking it to Vivica right now!

Bryan: He’s pretty lethal with his feet, there’s no doubt about it. And right now? Vivica’s in no man’s land.

After hitting around kick (this time to Vivica’s bent leg), Face charges against the ropes and hits a dropkick straight to the seated Valentine’s jaw! Vivica falls backwards, leaving her open to the pin…

Bryan: This could be it!

Yale: HUGE upset on its way!

…1!

…2!

… NOOOO! Valentine slides her foot onto the bottom rope.

Bryan: That was close, REALLY close!

Yale: I can’t believe Valentine kicked out of that one, JB.

Neither can Face, who drags Valentine a little bit closer to the middle of the ring and hooks her leg again.

…1!

…2!

Slightly easier kick out from Valentine this time. Face pulls her up this time and takes her across the ring. After setting her up in the corner and hitting a couple of body shots, he hops up and takes Valentine down with a monkey flip. Valentine lands in the centre of the ring and Face dashes out of the corner…

Bryan: Face looking for the senton splash…

Yale: … MISSES!

Bryan: Valentine rolled out of the way! Can she capitalise?!

Face is hurting from the miss, but at the moment Vivica’s still a little bit groggier than he is. He climbs to his feet again and grabs Valentine. He throws her head under his arm, looking for a DDT, but Viv squirms free and drills the startled Face with a step-up enziguri! The crowd roars in approval.

Bryan: What a counter!

The crowd pulsates the arena with claps as both individuals are on the ground. It's Valentine who begins to get up to her feet first much to the delight of the crowd. Gaining her composure she backs away from Face, trying to get herself together as he rises to his feet. Face makes it up to a verticle base and the always surprising speed of The Fearless Phenom is set in motion towards him. Leaping into the air she suddenly finds herself in the midst of a tilt-o-whirl.

Yale: Face caught her!

Bryan: Wait a minute!

Through the spinning Valentine manages to find her balance and lock in a tilt-o-whirl guillotine choke. Face is obviously caught off guard as he begins to stumble forward but she has the choke in deep. Suddenly Face droops forwards and Valentine finds herself on her back with the choke locked in, cranking on the hold violently before suddenly Face isn't resisting anymore. The referee calls for the bell.

Bryan: It’s over! Vivica’s done it!

Thrice pumps out of the speakers once again as the referee raises the victor’s hand. Visibly pained, Valentine steadies herself against the ref as she salutes the crowd and makes her exit.

Bryan: Well Vivica J. Valentine picks up the win, but it wasn’t easy.

Yale: Indeed. Face definitely proved himself to be a worthy opponent of the former Champion, and he almost stole it too!

Bryan: He came close with a brutal series of kicks, but at the end of the day Vivica was just too much for him. It’s on to bigger and better things for her now, as she heads into NC-17 and Chris Bagwell with a head full of steam!

Back to Top






The sound of "Image Of The Invisible" by Thrice still blares over the arena as the scene cuts to backstage. Vivica J. Valentine walks back through the curtain into the backstage area once again with a slight limp. After a hard fought victory The Fearless Phenom takes a minute to catch her breath, and leans against the concrete wall. With her back against the cold, rough surface she closes her eyes and looks into the air taking a deep sigh before suddenly she's interrupted.

"Hey, uhhhh. V."

The Scottish King of Cool is treading on eggshells. Showered, refreshed and with his gearbag slung over his shoulder, Andy Murray looks to be on the way out of the arena. He slides his Aviators into the pocket of his leather jacket as he approaches The Phenom.

Murray: I've got some news, and it ain't good.

Her eyes shot open with those words.

Valentine: ...what?

A million things rushed through her mind, wondering what in the world could possibly be wrong.

Murray: You know that New Jersey cock-knocker you've been chasin' around the arena for the past month? Well, he's done another of his "HEY! Look at me! I'm so cool, I beat up a staff member!" things, and this time it's a little closer to home than Ayake.

Valentine: This was supposed to fucking stop when that match was signed!

She paused for a moment to try and figure out who it was.

Valentine: I just saw JB... there's no way Bagwell could get to him at ringside. He's really the only other staff member I talk to on a regular basis? But what's wrong? Who is it?

Vivica seemed to be more and more worried as she waited for her answer.

Andy shifts his weight onto the other foot, nervous.

Murray: It's, uhhh. It's Markus.

There was a small delay where The Fearless Phenom tried desperately to process the information.

Valentine: WHAT THE FUCK IS MARKUS DOING HERE?!

The scream almost shot Andy Murray into the air.

Valentine: What'd he do to him? Where is he? Is he alright? He's supposed to be in fucking rehab right now!

In panic Vivica ran her hands through her hair, another shot of adrenaline ran through her battered body.

Valentine: SHIT!

Murray: Whoa, bleedin' heck.

Feeling entirely uncomfortable yet somewhat sympathetic, Andy moves towards the former Champion, placing his giant paws on her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down.

Murray: Take it easy, V. He's alright, I think. Just don't mind Bagwell. This is what he does...

Vivica J. Valentine snarls at the mention of Chris Bagwell's name.

Valentine: Where is Markus? I need to make sure he's alright.

Murray: Medical area's just round the bend. Go along the corridor, take the second turn at the Ryan Rayne monument...

Realising that this probably isn't the opportune moment to mention a wrestler the likes of which he will never compare, Andy stops.

Murray: Errr. Fourth door on the left.

Valentine: That son of a bitch is going to pay at NC-17...

Andy Murray could see the fire in Valentine's eyes as she sprinted off into the distance. Leaving Andy Murray by himself in the hallway, looking at the ground shaking his head in disgust of Chris Bagwell's actions... presumably. Or he could just be questioning where his career went so wrong. He could've been great. He could've been like "Replay" Ryan Rayne. If he just would've been blessed with that sort've talent. But it was probaly the Bagwell thing.

Bryan: This is just starting to get out of hand Dave.

Yale: I know it, a Ryan Rayne statue?

Bryan: No, Chris Bagwell. You might joke around about it, but what if you're next? You still think it'd be funny? We both talk to Ayake everyday, and now he's attacking people's loved ones?

Yale: They shouldn't be backstage.

Bryan: I know you hate Vivica, but this has gone too far. Maybe when it hits you a little closer to home, you'll care. But until then, I hope to God that young woman does something violent to Chris Bagwell at NC-17.

Murray: Man. I really wish I was as cool as Ryan Rayne.

Guess again.

Andy shakes his head and saunters off into the night, dejected.

Back to Top


?: Cough, cough, cough!

A blaze of hurls echo from one of the many back entrances of the arena. The darkness of the night does not help in identifying the man, but it would soon become clear that it was Clyde Fox.

Bryan: What's he doing outside Dave? It's an unusually cool night here in Arizona, and Fox doesn't even have a coat on.

Yale: Don't ask me. Maybe he's reminiscing about his match earlier tonight.

Fox stands there, half covered in the dreadful dark of the night. Suddenly he pulls his hand to his face and takes a puff from a cigarette.

Yale: You've got to be kidding me. Fox has taken up smoking now? He's not cold; he's coughing because he's smoking.

Fox hacks away after a half-hearted puff.

Fox: Puuuya! Yuck. Ahhhh sweet bliss.

He inhales yet again and can't help but to spit up in the smallest way.

Yale: Okay, seriously. Someone get back there and take that smoke from him!

Suddenly Sally Ford runs into view with microphone in hand.

Ford: Clyde! What on earth are you doing? And why did you request an interview all the way out here?

Fox: You know Sally... love makes you do crazy things. And by the looks of your rack... you've done some crazy things for love.

The crowd laughs faintly as Sally represses her anger and continues the interview.

Ford: That's irrelevant Clyde. What's gotten into you.

Fox: I just can't concentrate. Needed something to calm the nerves. Usually trapping and dissecting live mice do... but I've never felt this kind of pain before. It's Tessa's fault. Dangerous Games... my lust for her... tonight's match even. It's all her fault! That bitch doesn't love me!

Sally gets taken back by the B word.

Ford: Well no wonder she doesn't like you... you just called her a bitch!

Fox continues to talk like a hippie who has gotten high.

Fox: You don't understand man. She just recently evolved into a bitch. Like Squirtle; she evolved when she reached Level 12. And now she's a prime masta-bitch! Do you know how much sleep I've lost over her? These smokes are the only thing that keeps me grounded.

Yale: I didn't think Fox could sink any lower... but yet again he proves me wrong.

Fox: I haven't even told her my secret!

The drunken-like Fox parades around even more as Sally buys the bait.

Ford: And what would that be?

Fox: Well, when we almost kissed at Dangerous Games... something happened. You see, the next morning I woke up and I couldn't stop puking. I had morning sickness Sally. Tessa ummmpreganated me!

The sarcastically reacts in the background as Sally slaps her hand to her forehead.

Yale: I'm speechless JB. Fox has gone off his rocker.

Bryan: A very strange night for Fox indeed. First he seems so suicidal, and now he seems higher than a kite!

Ford: Realllllllllly?

Fox: Uh-huh. And I tried to hook up with her and make it work but that slimy bitch shut me down. I was brought up by respectable parents and they taught me good morals you know. That's why I'm going to have to beat up a woman at NC-17!

The crowd boos even though they are aware Fox is under nicotine's spell.

Fox: Time to show what a real man does!

Ford: By beating up a woman?

Fox: Yup. Look, here I go!

Fox thrusts his arms out to his side and runs off into the night making an airplane sound.

Yale: He's flying high like paper and getting high like planes!

Bryan: It's just too bad Fox is in for the fight of his life against a lethal woman!

Back to Top


The Megatron turns over to Bryan and Yale at the announce table. The fans go absolutely gorilla poop in anticipation of the Main Event.

Bryan: What a night! Finally, we are at the Main Event with a match between Jordan White against a mystery opponentr! We can look at the challenges tossed around, and -- wait a minute. What the hell is this?

Yale: And the chase continues!

Zacharia Taylor comes running down the ramp pulling on Garbage Bag Johnny’s arm, as Johnny flops behind him like some kind of sack of floppy potatoes. Taylor starts to slow down, turning around the arena to see the fans come alive. A mixture of cheers and boos fill the stadium with the random chaos of noise.

Bryan: We have reports of a live video feed of the police en-route to the arena.

The Megatron changes over to a shot where a dozen of police and security charge through the entrance hall, many with their nightsticks drawn.

Zacharia Taylor looks up at the megatron and sees them getting closer. He pushes Garbage Bag Johnny from behind, bullying Johnny down the ramp.

Garbage Bag Johnny: Don't tase me, bro!

Zacharia Taylor: Shut up, Johnny, you said you wanted to help.

Johnny turns around and pushes Taylor back, but Taylor grabs the back of Johnny’s neck and tosses him into the ring as the rush of police make their way into the arena and off of the megatron.

Bryan: It looks like Johnny is trying to get away from Taylor, but Taylor won’t let him have it.

Taylor lifts Garbage Bag Johnny up and uses him as a shield. The police make a horseshoe around front of the ring and a couple cops make their way into the ring. The crowd muffles as the police tighten up around Taylor and Johnny.

Garbage Bag Johnny: Let me go, and the match is off, Taylor!

Johnny is struggling with Taylor, but Taylor locks his arm around GBJ,

Zacharia Taylor: If I let you go, we will have worse things to worry about.

Byran: I don’t see how Taylor can get out of this one!

Yale: More to worry about is even if he gives himself up, will he be around for NC-17, or will he be stuck in Jersey?

Zacharia Taylor: Johnny . . .

GBJ: Let me go, man. I swear.

Zacharia Taylor: I didn’t kill him!

GBJ: I'll call it off. I'll . . . wait, what?

Zacharia Taylor: Stop, or else I…

Garbage Bag Johnny reaches up for Taylor’s head and performs a snap mare, slamming Taylor down on his back. The police charge in and dive for the downed Zacharia Taylor. Johnny runs towards the announcer’s table grabs the ropes, about to slide out.

Zacharia Taylor: You are going to regret this!

Taylor turns over and tries to crawl towards Garbage Bag Johnny. He starts to get way from the police, but they get on top of him.

Zacharia Taylor: [half lying, half crying] Johnny! You made a mistake! It’s not over!

Taylor grits his teeth and punches the mat. GBJ gets out of the ring but still looks back. Taylor pushes up on the mat and gets to his knees and then stands up. The police start to yell and hit Taylor with their nightsticks. Taylor finally falls to the ground and they put handcuffs on him.

Bryan: A sad moment in GCW right now, as the rising star of GCW is hauled away by a massive amount of police work.

Yale: I’m truly concerned if Taylor will be able to make it out to NC-17 for his biggest match of his career.

Johnny runs into the crowd and heads for he back of the arena as Taylor still looks out over his shoulder to watch him as he runs.

Taylor is being dragged up the ramp, his head held low as he looks at the top of the ramp as a collection of GCW stars watch as Taylor is hauled away. Chris Bagwell among other world class wrestlers watch and shake their heads as Taylor exit’s the arena.

Bryan: We need to get ready for a main event . . .

Back to Top

Bryan: Well David, I have to be honest. I can't get the thought out of my head of what Chris Bagwell just did to Vivica's extremely close friend, and ex-boyfriend, Markus. There was absolutely no need for it. It was despicable.

Yale: Markus was truly a bystander and had nothing to do with Bagwell. But in war, JB, there are always casualties. Even if they're innocent.

Bryan: This isn't a war, Dave. This is a wrestling organization. There's absolutely no need to involve the personal lives of anyone, I don't care who they are.

BREATHE

As the ever-so-infamous word blares throughout the arena, its responded to with a rumble of groans, moans, and boos.

Yale: Well I guess you're going to get your opportunity to tell Chris Bagwell exactly how you feel.

Bryan: He doesn't even have a match tonight. He shouldn't so much as be in the building with the way he's been acting.

Chris Bagwell steps out through the curtain with a smirk on his face, content with all the problems he's caused backstage. He struts to the ring without a care in the world, receiving any number of hand gestures from the ringside fans.

Bryan: Does it not occur to him that these people absolutely despise him?

Yale: I don't particularly think he cares, JB.

Bryan: That's a shame. That's a damn shame.

Bagwell climbs into the ring and snatches the microphone from the hand of Joey Andrews. He presses it to his bottom lip but remains silent, waiting for the nasty crowd reaction to simmer down.

Yale: If I were any one of those kids in the front row, I'd be zipping my lips.

Bryan: Yeah, you don't know who he's going to assault next.

Bagwell: You know, its funny because a week ago I made a statement that if people didn't start giving me what I wanted, I'd take it. Yet nobody believed me. Everyone went home that night, went through their normal routine the following day, sat down for dinner the next evening and talked about how Chris Bagwell was full of hot air. People assumed my attacks would stop on Ayake Sonodo.

Bryan: She shouldn't have been touched, PERIOD!

Bagwell: And the thing is .. they very well could have. It could've all been over and done with after Ayake, if only my wishes were granted.

Yale: He's got a point, JB. He did warn everyone.

Bagwell: But they weren't, and so Sven Tweeter and Randy Murreigh won a free trip to Ayake's hospital room. Only they weren't their visiting -- they got their own bed set.

The crowd responds with more booing and various "YOU SUCK" chants billow from around the arena.

Bryan: What kills me is that he got what he wanted. Christian Zenith gave him the match against Vivica J. Valentine and he STILL attacked Markus.

Yale: Maybe he didn't know!?

Bagwell: Yeah, you're right. Because I'm doing something about this crappy product thats this company is putting out on television, I suck. Well I'll tell you what else I do. I make things happen. Thats right, you all heard it earlier tonight when Christian Zenith finally gave me the match I've been demanding for weeks against Vivica J. Valentine.

Bryan: So much for your theory.

Yale: Maybe he just found out!?

Bagwell: Why he couldn't have done that in the first place is beyond me. Was he trying to protect Valentine? Keep the company's whore from getting sore? Well now your company whore has a little bit more to deal with, because the second that match was announced I made it a point to brutally assault her little friend Markus and check him right into the "Bagwell Fucked Me Up Hotel."

Bryan: Any other theories you want him to disprove?

Bagwell: And the question on everybody's mind has got to be WHY? Why'd you do it, Chris? Why'd you assault Markus? You said if you got what you wanted, you'd stop.

Yale: Why, JB?

Bryan: What?! You tell me, you're the one who idolizes him!

Bagwell: Yeah, I got my match with Valentine. But that's not all I wanted. I believe I said I wanted a shot at the World Championship Title belt. I've been reeling in cash for this company for a year now and I haven't come close to getting what I deserve. So from now on, nobody is safe.

Bryan: This guys is just getting unbelievable. I don't know how he's allowed to do this and he hasn't been fired from this company yet. Where is President Caldera when you need him?

Bagwell: And if you didn't catch what just happened a little while ago, my reign of havoc will not stop with just staff anymore. I gave you all your chance to make things better and now I'm going to strangle this organization until it cant breathe anymore. I'm going to start putting fans, superstars, their friends, their families, and anyone else that I mat stumble across in the arena in a permanent bed

The house lights drop and the music starts and sometimes, it's almost like they only play it so the fans have something to drown out.

The World Champion breaks through the curtains, hair hanging tangled in his face, blood on his title going black in the dancing lights as he holds it out to his side. He raises a hand to the crowd, to his crowd, and withdraws it as they cool to a constant sizzle before he pulls a mic from the back pocket of his jeans.

White: You are such a fuckin' drama queen, dude.

He rest the title across his shoulder and runs a hand back through his mop, revealing sharp brown eyes locked into a cold stare.

White: I told your ass, last time around, I'd give you a fuckin' title shot if you quit doin' that violent shit, that tough guy shtick. And you've gone after three people since then? Fuck that, and fuck you.

Bagwell delivers a cold, hard stare in the direction of the World Champion. His eyes are naturally drawn to the golden plates that have a slight glimmer from the ceiling lights.

Bagwell: That's the funny thing, Jordan. Everyone around here keeps making all these promises but it doesn't look like anyone wants to deliver. I didn't want to be like everyone else. I wanted to stand out above the rest. I wanted to be trendsetter, if you will.

Jordan rolls his hand, rolls his eyes.

White: Are you, are you fuckin' touched in the head, boy? I told you, you could have a match if you stopped the shit you continue to do. Don't puff up about how bad we're screwin' you on this one, man, because once again, it's just you. Explain to me, like, why exactly I should come down there and fulfill my terms if you boned yours like that?

The fans draw silence; wanting protection, wanting herosim. Jordan gives them nothing.

Bagwell: Ahh, you see. That's the difference between you and me, Jordan. I don't care what our terms were. The fact of the matter is that you didn't hold up your end of the bargain. I was simply, well, trying to expediate the process a little bit.

Jordan hangs his head, shaking it as he stares into his palm. Dropping his hand back to his side, he casts a quick glance to the belt.

Jordan: Are you fucking retarded?

The crowd explodes on that one, latching onto it like a vocal defense of their safety regardless of Jordan's real reasoning.

Jordan: If you don't hold up your terms, I don't have to hold up mine. It's the way deals work, you fuckin'. You. Shit, I don't even know what the hell you are anymore, man. You're like, like some idiot parasite, yeah?

Bagwell: So is this the reason you came out here tonight, Jordan? To tell me I'm a prick and a parasite? Well I thank you for your concern, but you're not telling me anything I haven't already heard. You can cry about it all you want, but the fact remains the same -- I'm going to do exactly what I promised and there's not a damn thing you can do about it...

Bagwell smirks to a chorus of boo's and a number of obscene gestures from the ringside fans.

Bagwell: ...or, maybe there is!

White: Nah. Trust me, man. I've talked to you enough before--I wouldn't get off my ass for that.

He shrugs, glancing around the audience.

White: I came out here kinda figurin' that, no matter what, I was gonna end up beatin' your ass 'cause that's what World Champions do, and that's why you keep gettin' passed by by people like Murray and GBJ. Just thought I might, see if you had the capacity for reasonin' before that all went down.

Another shrug.

White: Guess not. So yeah, you can be a one note villain if you wanna. I got a job to do.

He smirks; the fans ride it like a cannon, rocketing themselves with velocity and volume as the title slips from his shoulder, clatters against the entry way. He stomps forwards, the crew keeping pace behind him to carry the World Championship Belt to ringside.

Bryan: Finally, someone is going to put an end to Chris Bagwell's crap!

Yale: You mean someone's about to put an end to Jordan White's title reign, and it WON'T be LeStatt Knight.

Bryan: If Chris Bagwell really wants to put himself in a situation to get into the right with LeStatt, then he's stupider than I'd thought.

Andrews: Ladies and gentlemen, this impromptu match is for the World Heavyweight Championship!

Before Andrews can even give a full introduce, Jordan White hits the ring from under the bottom rope and pops right up to his feet. Bagwell has just enough time to rip his shirt off his back and throw it towards the side of the ring.

Bryan: And here comes the champion!

There's no traditional lockup and no friendly handshake. The moment Jordan White pops onto his fight, he sends a right hook in the direction of Chris Bagwell. Bagwell takes White's fist in his face, but retaliates with a right hook of his own. Their jabs quickly escalate into a pissing contest, each superstar responding with a hook harder than the one before.

Yale: They're using each other's heads as punching bags!

Chris Bagwell is the first one to make the move when he throws up his left forearm to block White's swing. He follows through with a quick snap kick into Jordan's thigh, forcing the Champion to drop back a step. Bagwell charges forward, swinging both his left and right hands at White's head in a sort of flailing motion. He managing to wrap his left arm around Jordan's head and bring him into a side headlock.

Bryan: I guess your buddy Bagwell got tired of eating Jordan's fists.

Yale: Look who's in control of the match, JB.

Bagwell wrenches down on the Champion's neck, hoping to inflict the same pain he was able to draw on Markus. But Jordan White is no Markus. He responds by wrapping his paws around Bagwell's waist and hoisting him up into the air.

Bryan: Yeah? I'm looking.

Yale: Ah!

White drops down onto his left knee, leaving the right one propped up. On the way down, Bagwell's ass manages to find that same right knee, leaving quite the aching pain in the Rajah of Ratings' rectum!

Bryan: I hope he can't shit for a week!

Yale: You bitter man.

Bagwell springs up into the air, both hands going right to his butt. He hops around the ring with one hand on each cheek as the crowd gets a good laugh in. White measures Bagwell and waits for him to hop around in a full circle. Just as Bagwell spins back in White's direction, the champion lounges at Bagwell with a leaping shoulder smash. He takes the challenger right off his feet.

Bryan: Jordan White getting some major air on that one.

Yale: Yeah, I hope all these fans keep laughing when Bagwell comes after each of them, too.

White props himself in a pushup position and pops himself up and onto his feet. He waives at Bagwell to get up quicker, but the challenger takes his time. White acts as if he doesn't have all day and grabs hold of the close-shaved head of Bagwell. He lifts The Torn Soul to his feet and greets him with a swift knee to the gut. White follows up with a short Irish whip into the nearest corner.

Bryan: It seems to me that Jordan white is dominating Chris Bagwell right now. All this talk from this guy about deserving this match and he hasn't proven much, thus far.

Yale: He's suckering Jordan in, JB. He's letting him think he's winded and then BAM! He'll make his move.

Jordan sprints in the direction of the turnbuckle and Chris Bagwell, who's leaning against it stomach out. White comes off his feet and drives a missile dropkick into Bagwell's gut. Bagwell stumbles out of the corner as White uses the ropes to pull himself swiftly back to his feet. Continuing his momentum, he lifts himself onto the top rope. White soars through the air, catching Bagwell with a bulldog from behind and driving the challenger's head into the canvas.

Bryan: Yep. He looked like he was planning that all along, Dave.

Yale: Come on, Chris!

White stands up to a tremendous ovation. He looks down at Bagwell, shaking his head. Jordan rolls Chris onto his back and lays on top of him for the cover. Hal Jenkins slides down and throws his hand up for the count..

1..

2..

..BAGWELL GETS A SHOULDER UP!

Yale: Chris kicked out!

Bryan: Just barely, but Chris Bagwell is still in this one.

Yale: I told you, JB. Just give it time!

White, not stressed at all by Bagwell’s escape, lifts the Torn Soul up to his feet once more. He sends Bagwell across the ring and to the ropes with another Irish Whip. Bagwell bounces off the ropes. He comes back towards Jordan White, who's reached top speed. Jordan leaps into the air with another big shoulder smash..

Yale: HE CAUGHT HIM!

Bryan: AAANDDDD ... Spinebuster on the champion!

Bagwell manages to catch Jordan white in mid-air and reverse the shoulder smash into a spinebuster. The excitement throughout the entire arena is reduced to a dull roar from the heel-lovers.

Yale: I told you it was just a matter of time.

Bryan: Bagwell landed one offensive move, lets not get our panties in a bunch.

Bagwell is a little slow to get up, still trying to get himself together after getting tossed around by Jordan only a few moments ago. The champion, however, shows practically no signs of fatigue and quickly rises to his feet. Both men manage to reach their feet at the same time and lock up in the center of the ring.

Bryan: There's that trusty lock-up!

Bagwell swings his arm around and grabs hold of Jordan by the waist, pulling him closer so their stomachs touch. He launches Jordan White up and over with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex. White's body crashes against the canvas and rolls a few feet. Bagwell lays still on his back.

Bryan: A big overhead belly-to-belly by the challenger and it looks like Chris Bagwell is finally giving the World Champion something to contend with.

Yale: That one looked like it winded Bagwell just as much as it did White.

Chris pulls energy from deep within to climb back to his feet while the Champion sits up and throws his arms on the lower rope for leverage. Once more, the two manage to get on their feet at about the same time -- almost as if they choreographed it.

Bryan: This is still anyone's game. Both men are in the same boat right now.

Yale: Two minutes ago, it was Jordan White's game. Now its anybody's?!

Bagwell and White both step towards the center of the ring and motion for the lockup. Bagwell dodges and instead ducks forward and hits a right shoulder into White's mid-section. Bagwell swings around behind White and follows up with an overhand smash to the back of Jordan White's head. White stumples forward until catching his balance, at which point takes off against the ropes. He comes back at Bagwell, who's already waiting to hit him with a huge hip toss.

Yale: Bagwell's game, baby!

Bagwell follows all the way through with the hiptoss, but White barely manages to land on his feet. The Torn Soul immediately head to the ropes on the other side with all aspiration to take White down before he gets a chance to land any offensive himself.

Bryan: Jordan White landed on his feet!

Yale: What!? How the heck did he manage that??

Bagwell bounces off the ropes and comes back at White, who's able to turn around by this point. White counters whatever Bagwell is trying to pull off, lifting Bagwell high into the air with the beginnings of a flapjack.

Bryan: And White counters again!

Yale: Damn this guy!

Just as White begins bringing Bagwell down, Chris manages to weasel around enough so that he in fact counters himself and lands on top of White. He starts unloading on the Champion's face with a modified Lou Thesz press.

Yale: Bagwell countered again!

Bryan: And he explodes with a super elevated Lou Thesz Press on Jordan White.

With White so close to the ropes, Referee Hal Jenkins has no option but to try and break up the hold. Bagwell continues whailing down on Jordan's face despite being threatened by the referee. Jenkins begins to give Bagwell a 10-count to disqualification.

1..

2..

3..

Bryan: Is Bagwell seriously going to get himself disqualified?

4..

5..

Yale: I think he's just about lost it, JB.

6..

7..

Bryan: He could legitamately lose it in three more seconds!

8..

9..

Finally, Bagwell haults his hits and steps away from White, fuming. It seems as though a switch went off in his brain and he couldnt control himself. White grabs hold of his face and tries whiping away the pain. Bagwell backs up to the other side of the ring, shaking violently.

Bryan: What the hell has happened to Chris Bagwell?

Yale: He looks like he just got a case of rabies or something.

The crowd begins to pick up with chants for Jordan White to encourage him. The champion is slow to get to his feet, but gets up nonetheless. He locks eyes with Chris Bagwell across the ring, who continues to shake. Bagwell explodes from his side of the ring towards Jordan White. He dives at White with a devestating spear.

Yale: Bagwell could very well rip White apart!

White dodges to the side and guides Bagwell into the steel turnbuckle post. The crowd roars as Bagwell steps away, holding his shoulder. But his attack doesn't cease. He spins around and swings at White, connecting with close-quarter clothesline. The champion drops to the ground.

Bryan: Bagwell surprisingly come right out of that corner without so much as a pinch.

Yale: Somethings weird, JB. He looked like he would've shattered his shoulder with that hit.

Bryan: Normally, I'd say its heart. But we know damn well Bagwell doesn't have one of those.

White gets helphed to his feet by the challenger. Bagwell sends White across the ring with an Irish whip. As soon as White hits the ropes, Bagwell runs towards him with a monstruous clothesline. He swings at White...but White ducks underneath. Bagwell whips around, and...

Bryan: 303.36! JORDAN WHITE!

Yale: FROM OUT OF NOWHERE!!

Bryan: He just damn near kicked Chris Bagwell's teeth down his throat!

Yale: DAMMIT!

The crowd goes absolutely out of their minds.

"JOR-DAN WHITE! JOR-DAN WHITE! JOR-DAN WHITE!"


Jordan White throws himself on top of the challenger as Hal Jenkins gets down for the count.

Bryan: CHRIS BAGWELL COULD WATCH HIS DREAMS DISAPPEAR IN ONLY THREE!

Yale: Come on, Chris!!! You're still it!

Jenkins slaps his hand against the canvas..

1..

He raises it high and slaps down a second time..

2..

And as he raises it up for the third and final strike, Bagwell's championship ambitions flash.

THRE..

Yale: HE GOT A SHOULDER UP!!

Bryan: MY GOD, HOW DID HE DO IT?!

Yale: CHRIS BAGWELL IS STILL IN THIS ONE!!!!!

Bryan: Waiiiiiiiiiitt just a minute.

Yale: LeStatt Knight! At the top of the ramp!

The winner of the 2008 Dangerous Games match, LeStatt Knight, walks out onto the stage setting a dark and ominous tone immediately. As Jordan lifts his head from the pinfall attempt, he catches a glimpse of Knight, who slowly struts down the ramp.

Bryan: I knew Knight couldn't stay away.

Yale: He's a week away from the biggest pay-per-view of the year. You can be for damn sure that he wants to see who his opponent is going to be.

Bryan: I guess the decision is whether or not Knight wants a singles match or a triple threat!

Although Knight barely even gets halfway down the ramp, its still enough to distract the champion. Jordan stands up and walks towards the ropes, mouthing choice words to Knight. Bagwell creeps up to his feet.

Bryan: We could very well see NC-17 unravel right here.

Knight motions an imaginary belt around his waist. White replies with a laugh and the nod of his head. He waives his hand at Knight and spins around on a dime.

Yale: NO!!

Bryan: WHITE MUSTVE SENSED HIM!

Seeing these types of endings unfold all too frequently, White spins around and delivers another 303.36 in anticipation that Chris Bagwell is right behind him and waiting to capitalize...

...and he was right.

Yale: NOT AGAIN!

Bryan: 303.36!

Jordan wastes no time in covering the challenger. Jenkins gets down low...


ONEEEEE....




TWWWWOOOO...



THREEEEE!!!!!

Bryan: MY GOD! HE DID IT!

Yale: Jordan White squeeks by another one and retains the World Championship Title.

Andrews: The winner of this contest and STTTILLLLLLLL GCW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION .. JOOOORDDAAAANNN WHHHIITTEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

White's music kicks up over the speakers as Referee Hal Jenkins hands him the World Championship Title belt.

Yale: It might not be all! Here comes Knight!

Knight starts walking towards the ring. He stops right at the edge of the apron and locks eyes with the World Champion. The energy behind each of their stares extremely intense.

Bryan: I'm sorry folks, but we're out of time. We'll see you at NC-17!

Knight peers down at Bagwell and then looks up again at White. He points at the champion, notioning that his reign will be soon be over.

The picture fades to the GCW logo, and then to black.

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WorldWide 104 Credits


Results compiled and archived with Backstage V2.