I have never worked for someone else's gain. In wrestling and in life, I have only worked to advance my own goals, my own career, my own happiness. I've done whatever it took to better myself. Whether it was countless hours of training. Or days of studying an opponent. I've even realized that yes, I couldn't do some things alone, and took things to the next level, joining up with one Eon Blue. Even accepting the offer of a man named Nathan Fiora. Chaos Elite was the elevator, bringing me up to the level I am on today. Without realizing what was missing in my career, I would probably still be where I started. Irrelevant. Unknown. Mocked. There's no way that I would be in this Television Title match. But now I find myself working for...a greater good? Something that is somehow...above just me? Somehow, I need to ignore that greed. That whisper in my mind that asks me: "what am I getting out of this?" The greed that all of us possess, controlled me just a little bit more than most people. Chaos Elite was almost over. A young, promising tag team. Almost broken apart, because of opposing mindsets, different approaches, a childish disagreement. We cracked, under the pressure of oh so many losses. Mostly because of things we couldn't control. Everyone saw the promise in us. The untapped potential, just waiting to be unleashed. But at the time, I thought: "Maybe I made a mistake". "Maybe the time isn't right, to be trusting someone like this". Chaos Elite almost ended, as spontaneously as it started. But one man entered, and look at us now. A perfect unit, at least in the time we've had in a ring together so far. People laughed at me when I gave him a chance. I was desperate. Things could not get any worse for the two of us. And then people mocked us, maybe rightfully so. Why would I ever place my trust in a man who used to embrace being a simp? But people deserve second chances. A chance to redeem themselves from past mistakes. And yet, some people think Fiora went from bad to worse. All that simp shit was bad enough. But to devote himself to some religion? To gather followers, in order to take over some wrestling company? I can see why some people thought so. Some people have truly devoted themselves to his cause. To put The Awakening above themselves. To truly donate their lives for his greater good. Despite the mocking words. Despite the doubt from friends and family. Maybe some doubters are just scared of the unknown. Others merely thinking that this whole Awakening thing is stupid. But Fiora got us back on track. For my mock loyalty, he elevated Chaos Elite. Just days after accepting his offer, it's like we were a new team. Of course, a baby could defeat the Nighttime Horrors. But we didn't just beat them. We dismantled them. We made sure that they wouldn't be back in a ring anytime soon. And it's not just that we beat them, as I said before, anyone could with ease. We looked like a team. We worked together, better than we ever have before. We took our opponents apart smoothly and effortlessly. And some could credit that to the low quality of our opposition, but I'd like to think it was Nathan Fiora, showing us our true potential. I have never been a blind follower. Despite what others think, I'd like to assume that I always know what I'm getting myself into. The Awakening is a group that would advance all of our needs. We would stand strong, and together, take over Olympus. I'm not one to throw myself to someone's mercy. To put my full trust in a person, and hope that everything comes out fine. I am the controller of my own destiny, my own future. When it comes to myself, I know what is best for ME. But now, I find that I'm expected to throw that self prioritization attitude away, again for the greater good. For the good of the group. That is something to come back to later, I guess. The priority is this upcoming Sunday. But I do have to say. Nathan Fiora has proved himself to me. He has shown that he's a changed man, and knows how to do what it takes to win. Once I thought of him as weak-minded and delusional. A victim to his own ego. But he's shown a willingness to do whatever it takes. A merciless change of heart, you could say. I'm convinced that he has changed for the better. And maybe I too need to change in order to achieve greater success. But still, I continue to value myself. They say to truly be a part of The Awakening, I need to fight for the group. To put personal ambitions to the side, so The Awakening can prosper. Nathan Fiora has done great things for Chaos Elite, I'll say that. And maybe I need to do the same for him, and the rest of the group. To repay what was done for us, so Michaels and Fiora can also be bettered. But what I'm really being asked to do, is to take my own advice. Not just to open my mind to the possibilities of The Awakening. But to clear it. And to truly accept it. To go beyond my natural instincts, and to put something in front of just myself. I have listened. I have accepted guidance and given my own thoughts on it. But to move me to the next level, I have to truly integrate myself into the group? To throw my full trust into the teachings of Fiora? I understand that Eon was quick to do so. He was quick to realize that trusting his process was the best move. He grew to fully believe in the church, in The Awakening. But somehow, I show more cautiousness.

Let me start this by saying I support whatever you want to do, Eon. We've had our problems. We've had our arguments. But we worked past them. We turned Chaos Elite from two individuals working towards mutual goals to a real tag team. That's respected. That's feared, even. When Nathan Fiora entered our lives, we showed a fair amount of doubt. As most would. Who is this guy, claiming to be our saviour? But we were at the lowest point in our careers. After yet another loss, this time in a three on two situation, we blamed each other. We were ready to split. We thought that this wasn't working out. So when Fiora walked in, we accepted without question. We were willing to listen because things couldn't get any worse. But as time went on, you've obviously devoted yourself to the cause more than I have. You are right. I do fear that knife in my back. I do fear an attack when I'm not watching. Because that's what I've come to expect from Eon Blue. The Eon Blue that I tagged with would do whatever he needed to do to succeed. If that means attacking his tag team partner, then so be it. He would show no mercy if it meant spreading his apocalypse. Teams were necessary to advance his goals. To add some credibility to his resume and mine. But with the arrival of Nathan Fiora, Eon Blue departed. The old Eon Blue, anyway. I've never doubted that we were equals. We needed EACH OTHER. Alone, we were overlooked and irrelevant. But Chaos Elite got people's heads turning. And when I see you devote yourself to this cause, that's bigger than yourself, I have to wonder what really changed. Your mindset? Your beliefs? You don't need to be a follower, you say. You just need to believe. To take the words of Fiora as fact. I listened. I put a certain amount of trust in him. And he has not steered us wrong yet. And...with this new Eon Blue, comes a new approach. When you say that I can trust you, even as an opponent. I'm seeing that those words are genuine. That I don't need to watch my back around you, even though only one of us can win. Because you'll be happy as long as Finn doesn't retain. Because the winner won't just be one of us. The winner will be The Awakening. Oh, how you've changed. Just last month, you would've scoffed at the idea of being happy for someone else, winning while you lose. But now I guess it's not really losing. Not to you. I agree that we share a common goal. To put an end to the reign of Finnegan Wakefield. To bring a belt home to The Awakening. But really...I'd prefer it to be me. If you win, you will have my congratulations. I'll be proud of you, knowing that you've done Chaos Elite proud. You've achieved your goal. But I feel that there'll be a small part inside me that'll be disappointed. That desperately wants it to be me. That wants the belt to validate itself. But that self is me. There will always be an amount of greed inside me. It's human nature, to worry about the individual, over the group. It's how people kept themselves alive, back when life wasn't as good as it is now. I recognize our common goal, Eon. I can assure you that one of us will be going home with the strap. And somehow...I trust you not to go after me until the time is right. We can do this together. To a point. Chaos Elite can reign over the ring, one more time before we must fight. One more time. Because we have to. There's no getting around it. When the time comes, you'll see it coming. I'm not one to sneak up on someone I respect. But when the time comes, I will do what I need to do. One of us has to bring home the gold, but I will do what I need to do when the time comes, to ensure that it is me. I have never denied greed. But let's bring it back to The Awakening. You've said that you've realized that a change was necessary. Indeed, the game I play is for myself, and nobody but myself. But to ascend, I need to follow the church? I accepted the help. I don't degrade what benefits me. But I've never been a religious person. And yes, this goes far beyond worship and prayer, but that is what it was meant to be. That is what this whole Awakening is based on. I am loyal to the group. I really am. And I know that you believe in more than just that aspect. But it’s surprising that you turned so quickly. One day you just decided to fully accept Fiora into your life. You went from the apocalypse to The Awakening in a blink of an eye. From looking to take home gold for yourself, to bringing it home for The Awakening. To share your triumphant moment with us. But believe it or not, I don’t mind doing the same. I don’t mind sharing my success with others. I don’t mind introducing the standard that the rest of The Awakening looks to exceed. I believe that this could be just the start for us. With Nathan Fiora, who has the chance to become the new OWA world heavyweight champion. With Chaos Elite, in which one of them could become the TV champion. Even Mark Micheals could sweep through that silly battle royal. Come Game Over, the Awakening has plenty of chances to make their name. I don’t mind being part of this group. But I see that you want more from me, Eon. Not only do you want me to fully accept The Awakening, in which I’m trying my best to do. You want me to fully align my goals with The Awakening. I’m not trying to resist, I’m really not. I’m just cautious. Our goals can be the same. As far as I know, at Game Over, we have exactly the same goal in mind. You seek to end the reign of Wakefield, and take the belt home to The Awakening. I want to win that belt myself. And then I will bring it back to The Awakening. Trust me, I won’t be winning this just for myself. I’m not that greedy. But don’t take my words the wrong way. If you get the better of me once again. If you achieve your goal. If you walk out of New York with the TV Championship around your waist. I won’t be that guy. I won’t be jealous at all! No, I’ll be happy for you, because I know that belt will be going to the better man. And I guess it also gets Wakefield to shut up, so that’s another perk. I won’t fault you at all for doing what needs to be done. But again, it always comes back to The Awakening. I will try. I will try to accept what Fiora puts in front of me, to forward the progression of the group. Not just for myself, or Chaos Elite. I’ll try and truly believe, like you’ve already done.

And I guess I could say that I'll try my best with you, as well. As I've said countless times, I will try my best to make sure you don't go home with that belt. Sitting backstage, as I listen to you go on and on, I knew that I had to answer. I knew I had to take this opportunity by the horns, and make sure that you regret ever issuing that open challenge. What I didn't expect was Eon joining me. But when we looked at each other, I knew that we both had the same thing in mind. As both of us shot to our feet, I knew at that moment, that you, Finn, were truly fucked. But obviously, you refuse to come to peace with your fate. You continue to state facts that don't matter at all. That won't change anything about your situation. You say that you're fully aware of our "plan". You pretend that you're aware that you could lose that title, and then go on to say that the combined efforts of both me and Eon, won't be close to the countless hardships that you've suffered. Get the fuck over yourself. I'm sure you do have some reasons to be confident in yourself. This isn't your first rodeo with a belt. I'm sure you have your fair share of victories on pay-per-view. But to talk like we're mere gnats. There's a difference between betting on yourself, and being overconfident. But I don't like to talk about myself. I usually let my performance in the ring do the talking for me. Instead of providing reasons why I should be taken seriously, I show it without opening my mouth. But it seems that you like to do both. I'll allow you to believe what you want to believe. To spend your last moments with the Television Championship in denial. To go over past moments to fuel your line of thinking. But when the time comes to enter the ring. When we finally lock up. Those past achievements won't matter in the slightest. Those brash words won't mean anything, when Chaos Elite is upon you. False predictions of a delusional man won't stop that TV Title from coming home where it belongs. But I know that I'm expected to say something. I wouldn't be standing here if I was fully willing to stand in silence and let my performance do the talking. No, that would be too easy. Finn, I will give you respect where it's due. I'll admit, that open challenge elevated this title beyond just a joke. Beyond a title held by comedy scrubs. You've played a part in making this title actually desired, by formidable challengers. But you're in over your head this time. That's right, the great Finnegan Wakefield is in over his head. After willingly walking into basically a handicap match, with your title on the line, you have the audacity to look down on me, and boost your confidence even more by saying that I'm somehow nothing compared to glorious matches of your past. You say that you're fully aware of your chances, and then go on to say that you will not lose. And then you have the urge to call me out on my "contradictions". That I throw stones from my house of glass, while you watch on in amusement. I'm not overconfident. Even though the matchup isn't as one sided as one would think. Eon and I could turn on each other, much to your happiness, I'm sure. One of us could royally fuck up, and hand you an easy defence. But I think I have every reason to believe that you won't be walking out of New York with that strap around your waist. You have a numbers disadvantage. You've defended that title week after week. But you still think that I'm just something for you to swat and move on. I've respected you up to this point, I really have. I'm sure you have many reasons to be satisfied with your reign. But the line will end here. Hey, I'm sure I'll live up to your standard as a fighting champ. Don't worry, the standard that you set won't be lowered anytime soon. But I'm not stupid enough to think that I've already won. All three of us will be pushed to the limit. We've exchanged verbal blow after verbal blow. It's about time we take out some frustration in the ring. But I'll keep a cool head. I'll keep my eye on the prize. This is it, isn't it? The biggest match of my career, and possibly a career lowlight for you, Finn. Interesting how different our experiences could be. Enough talk. Enough grand predictions. It's time to prove everyone wrong. It's time to bring home the gold, and to make you wish that you never issued that open challenge.

This is it.

God damn dealing with you dick eating motherfuckers is a never ending pain in the ass I swear to god almighty himself. I know that is quite the blunt and vulgar way to start this out but for the love of all that is holy left in this existence we call life itself just...what the fuck?! Like for real? What in the actual fuck has become of this business and more specifically this company? Last I checked the Omega Wrestling Alliance was filled with the toughest customers and the best performers on the globe. But all I see now amidst this entire company are a bunch of punk ass mouthy bitches! Oh I’m sorry, there is one group of people around here who don’t literally talk and shit from the same hole. That being the Ladies of Saturday night Odyssey. Shoutouts to y’all. Like for real can I get drafted onto THAT show. I mean not only do y’all got some of the hardest working performers ANYWHERE today! Y’all for the most part are all humble and honest and aren’t literal egotistical BITCH MADE MOTHERFUCKERS WITH NO SOUL LEFT IN YOUR FUCKING BODIES LIKE THESE OLYMPUS FAGGOTS NOWADAYS! BUT NOT EVEN JUST THEM EITHER! EVEN OUTSIDE OF THE THUNDERDOME MATCH! EVEN OUTSIDE OF FUCKING OLYMPUS THE BRAND I COMPETE ON, I STILL GOT LAME ASS DUDES TRYIN TO SQUEEZE A LITTLE BIT OF CLOUT OUT OF MY NAME FOR THEMSELVES! LIKE WHAT HAS THIS BUSINESS HONESTLY COME TO?! I don’t give a rat’s ass what anyone of you lames say at this point. Nobody can say I’m not doing SOMETHING right because literally everybody and they mama can’t keep my name out their mouth trying to get some kind of attention. And normally I wouldn’t even give these bitch ass dudes the time of day, but today Imma make an exception. TODAY WE GONNA CALL OUT EVERY SINGLE PERSON THAT HAS USED MY NAME AS A MEANS OF BOOSTING THEMSELVES OUT OF MEDIOCRITY OR JUST TRYING TO STAND OUT AND SOUND COOL BECAUSE THEY CAN TALK SHIT ABOUT SOMEONE IMPORTANT WITH IDLE, PUSSY THREATS! And let’s start big. How big? How about Sunday Night Kingdom’s own Havoc? That big enough for ya? “You took the CM Nas route of becoming the world champion by trying to present yourself as the star that you’re clearly not.” This was stated in reference to Reginald Dampshaw III. Now mind you, RD3 and Havoc are both bitch ass motherfuckers and just from my perspective, I’d love nothing more than to throw both of their asses up out of this company. But that ain’t my style. Not my problem...at least not right now. As for Mr. Havoc using my name like that. Havoc, allow me to remind you who I am. My name is Nas. You know. The guy you’ve NEVER beaten whether as Christopher Sabertooth or your creepy face paint, satanic alter ego. “With guys like Eon Blue and Noah Quinn, both of whom would make an excellent Television champion, along with the man who is gonna make Nas his personal bitch, Father Nathan Fiora, behind me, you can kiss the status quo bye bye.” This little gem came to us courtesy of one Meathead Mid Michaels. Or I guess for those not in the know of my renaming deal I like to do to people, this is Mark Michaels. Now, where do I even begin on this one. I’ll leave Eon and Noah alone for now because they also have some ‘interesting’ comments for me. And yes I am being so sarcastic right now it’s not even funny. But of course the part we’re gonna focus on is ‘the man who is gonna make Nas his personal bitch, Father Nathan Fiora’. First off Michaels, how’s it feel to call another wrestler Father unironically or sarcastically. I bet when y’all be alone in the locker room you call him Daddy instead. And that is probably by the Living Chode’s request too. Anyways. I’ve lost more brain cells dealing with you than any other man arguably in the history of this business. The fact that you still have a job around here just shows how much Scott Oasis and the rest of management really don’t give a FUCK about what goes on or who is let onto Friday Night Olympus. Just...just go somewhere, ANYWHERE! JUST DON’T BE HERE! DON’T BE IN MY VICINITY! DO NOT EVER USE MY NAME EVER AGAIN YA LIERAL FUCKING APE! And no I ain’t never been nor will I ever be anyone’s bitch. That more so sounds like your new relationship with the living chode actually. Being his bitch made hype man and all. As if he wasn’t obnoxious enough on his lonesome now he has braindead goons like you to talk about him even more. GODDAMN IT’S LITERALLY AS IF THIS ENTIRE COMPANY IS MADE JUST TO PISS ME THE FUCK OFF I SWEAR! THIS SHIT IS RIDICULOUS BRO! LIKE REALLY! HOW COME I CAN’T DEAL WITH PEOPLE LIKE FINNEGAN WAKEFIELD, ARIA JAXON, AND ALYSSA GRACE ALL THE TIME?! WHY AM I ALWAYS STUCK FUCKIN AROUND WITH YOU LOSER ASS DUDES WHO LITERALLY EXIST AS PARASITES! FUCKING LEECHES SUCKING LIFE ITSELF DRY OF ANY SORT OF ENJOYMENT OR EVEN COMMON DECENCY?! LIKE WHAT IN THE FUCK DID I DO IN MY PAST LIFE TO DESERVE BEING THE ONE STUCK DEALING WITH ALL THIS NONSENSE?! ON THE REAL! SOMEBODY TELL ME! BECAUSE I CLEARLY AM NOT INFORMED OF SOMETHING AT LEAST SOMEONE ELSE OUT THERE MUST BE AWARE OF! I am literally like THIS FUCKING CLOSE from completely snapping from dealing with this goddamn nonsensical bullshit. THIS INDUSTRY SHOULD NOT  BE THIS FUCKING HARD TO UNDERSTAND! WHY CAN’T ANY OF YOU JACKASSES GET IT!?

OH GODDAMNIT! I GO FROM THAT AND NOW I HAVE TO ADDRESS THE LIVING CHODE, THE LITERAL EMBODIMENT OF NOT FUCKING GETTING IT AT ALL! So first thing’s first, Young Chode Boi decided it’d be cute to do the same thing EVERYBODY ELSE EVER HAS DONE and run through a list of my past names. Like I say in EVERY PROMO AT THIS POINT, How original my guy. I willingly leave and return as I please?! SINCE FUCKING WHEN?! A MUTHAFUCKA LEAVES FOR TWO MONTHS TO TRAIN AND REHABILITATE NAGGING INJURIES BUILT UP OVER A FUCKING DECADE AND SUDDENLY HE DOESN’T LOVE OR CARE ABOUT ANYONE BECAUSE HE COMES AND GOES AS MUCH AS HE LIKES?! SHUT THE ACTUAL FUCK UP DUDE. Like on god himself. Not the god YOU pretend to be a prophet of. The real life god that exists to all the rest of us. JUST FUCKING KNOCK IT OFF DUDE! This is an embarrassment. The fact that you would even blindly say something like that without any kind of BASIC common sense or fact checking. Why am I even facing this guy on the real. This literally could have been anyone else on the roster. This could’ve been Nobi or Teddy Mac. This could’ve been a rematch with Finnegan. This could have been a young upstart like Baba Yaga who’s been waiting for this kind of opportunity. AND I KNOW YO BITCH ASS CHODE BOI AIN’T TALKIN ABOUT LEAVING AND RETURNING AS HE PLEASES! THE ONLY THING YOU’VE HAD MORE OF THAN RETURN RUNS SINCE 2016 ARE FUCKING THEME MUSIC CHANGES! FUCK OUTTA MY FACE WITH THAT BULLSHIT! I haven’t tried to adapt?! And you call what you’re doing ADAPTING?! I CALL IT THE FACT THAT YOU’VE GONE PSYCHO TRYING TO ESCAPE IRRELEVANCY SO YOU STARTED THROWING ANY AND EVERY KIND OF RETARDED GIMMICK IDEA AT A WALL UNTIL ONE STUCK! Chode boi then goes on to spout some bullshit about crackpot theories that SOME PEOPLE are mentally deranged enough to believe about me being handed opportunities behind the scenes by my wife and all that. And I know most of you are reasonable enough people and rational enough thinkers to know that’s not fucking true. It’s the incredibly idiotic and loudmouthed minority who never shut the FUCK UP that just really irritates me to no end. “I’ve already won that title and while that reign didn’t go as well as I hoped it would, I will be referred to as a former TV Champion.” Oh you mean the TV Title that you officially hold the record for shortest champion in OWA History for? Well, not counting the 24/7 title which was literally designed to be passed around like a whore. Anyways Chode man, look. Yea yea you won the TV Title. Sure. You beat Jesus Christ for it and that’s cool whatever. I did not challenge Jesus Christ for the belt. I challenged FINNEGAN WAKEFIELD FOR THE BELT! YOU KNOW, LIKE EIGHT MONTH LONG OWA WORLD CHAMPION! BEST TECHNICAL WRESTLER ON THE PLANET TODAY? Fucking decorated performer all around the globe. Established main event name wherever he goes? That fuckin guy. “I am meant to be in the Thunderdome match after I beat Nas with ease.” BITCH SAYS FUCKING WHO?! I KNOW GOD DIDN’T SAY THAT BULLSHIT! LAST I CHECKED GOD DOESN’T LIE! AIN’T THAT IN THE TEN COMMANDMENTS?! THOU SHALL NOT LIE?! You saying that you’ll beat me, okay sure whatever. I’m not gonna deny that with some outside interference or some other straight up bullshit going on, I could get fucked outta this opportunity for the Omega Heavyweight Championship. BUT you defeating me with EASE?! And I’m sure you mean Single Handedly?! BOI STOP IT! You’re doing what you do best, deceiving yourself AND everybody around you. Don’t even get them meathead boi’s hopes up thinkin like that. Because after shit doesn't go your way, YOU gotta be the one to turn around and explain to them why the shit didn’t go how you proudly proclaimed it would my guy. “I’m right at my league and Fizus! It feels great to be finally viewed as what I was always meant to be; one of the biggest names in this business. Bigger than Nas, bigger than Darkane, bigger than Cage, bigger than Derelict, bigger than Senn, and bigger than Callihan.” No cap tho I might need to start smokin for real. Because whatever Chode boi got his hands on that made him say THIS BULLSHIT! IT MUST BE STRONGER THAN A MUTHAFUCKA! “This is why Nas needs to learn that his wife handing him title is problematic.” Mention my wife again and I promise you, YOU DON’T HAVE TO FUCKING WAIT UNTIL GAME OVER TO GET THIS ACTION MY DUDE! WE CAN THROW THE HANDS ANYTIME ANYPLACE! I’M TELLIN YOU NATHAN FIORA I AM DEAD FUCKING SERIOUS ON THIS ONE! MENTION TARAH NOVA WHEN ADDRESSING ME EVER AGAIN AND I WILL FIND YOU IN WHATEVER LITTLE HOLE YOU’RE HIDING IN YOU FUCKING GREMLIN AND I’LL DRAG YOUR ASS OUT OF IT SO AT LEAST ONE PERSON IS AROUND TO FILM IT FOR THE WORLD TO SEE. IT BEING THE ABSOLUTE FUCKING BEATDOWN I’LL BESTOW UPON YOU! TRY ME AGAIN MUTHAFUCKA AND FIND OUT! AND BRING ALL THEM OTHER BITCH MADE MUTHAFUCKAS WITH YOU IF THEY WANNA FIND OUT TOO! BRING MEATHEAD MID MICHAELS! BRING EON BLUE! BRING NOAH QUINN! BRING PREACHER JAMAL BIG ASS TOO! BRING EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR LITTLE NEANDERTHAL GOONS YOU GOTTA HIDE BEHIND TO PRESENT YOURSELF AS A BIG THREAT AND LET THEM ALL FIND OUT THE EXACT SAME THING YOU WILL! BECAUSE YOUR ENTIRE LITTLE CLIQUE NEEDS TO UNDERSTAND ONCE AND FOR ALL NOT TO FUCK WITH ME ANYMORE! STOP IT AND PICK SOMEBODY ELSE BRUHS OKAY? I AM NOT THE ONE MY GUYS! GO ON SOMEWHERE ELSE WITH THE FUCKIN BULLSHIT AIGHT? COOL!

Now that Chode Boi has been addressed HOPEFULLY for the final time. Let’s get on to my ACTUAL opponents for the REAL match I’m ready to be in at Game Over, The Thunderdome match. Which everybody seems to be confident I’ll be a part of...except for one miserable, batshit crazy piece of trash. Nate Cage you fuckin slag. You HONESTLY HAVE THE GUTS AND BALLS TO STAND HERE IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE WORLD AND PROCLAIM THAT YOU REALLY THING NATHAN FIORA AKA THE LIVING CHODE HIMSELF WILL ENTER INTO THE THUNDERDOME MATCH OVER ME?! EITHER YOU ARE THE MOST SPITEFUL VINDICTIVE SCUMBAG OF ALL FUCKING TIME OR YOU REALLY LIKE ROOTING FOR THE LITTLE FUCKING GUY! Imma place my bets on category A tho. Actually there’s a third option as well. The last time you dealt with electricity, Kenny Drake fried your brain so goddamn much that your actual concept of who is talented and who is not is ass fuckin backwards now. That’s the only ACTUAL way I could buy someone of your in ring skill level HONESTLY BELIEVING that The Living Chode could seriously out wrestle me and get into the Thunderdome Match. Then again that’s why I also threw out the idea of you being the biggest contrariant troll of all time. Now first off Mr. Cage, what does “Grow a fucking spine” even mean? If it means become a literal asshole to all of society and make sure I reserve a personal space for myself in hell alongside Adolf Hitler, Vlad the Impaler, and Saddam Hussein, then no fucking thanks. You can keep that shit to yourself. I rather enjoy being an individual who has you know...friends or just, people who enjoy my presence to any sort of degree. I’d rather not be stuck with the status of lifelong dickhead who everyone in the room resents the shit out of even if they don’t even know him or know why he’s a scumbag. So then he goes on to make a multitude of generic washed up and old man taunts towards me as if I didn’t ALREADY address why THAT’S bullshit in EVERY PROMO I’VE CUT IN THE LAST YEAR OR SO NOW! It’s like, in 2016 to the beginning of 2018 I am considered a young up and coming star who can revolutionize the business. Mid 2018 I somehow magically morph into seasoned veteran who’s watch is soon to be fucking expired according to everyone else around him. How does that make ANY FUCKING SENSE IN THE GODDAMN WORLD EVER?! I’ll tell you right now, it doesn’t. You’re literally wasting your words Nate Cage. Words that could be served better by making actual narrative points as to why I won’t win the Thunderdome and you will. Because you know, I’m going to be in it after all. Actually thinking Chode Boi will get past me and enter it is thinking like a goddamn caveman. And I’m not even going to address the ignorant statements made by BOTH Cage here AND Chodemeister about my having my own personal club on Olympus and that I didn’t give constant opportunities to plenty of worthy guys and all that bullshit. Fuck outta my face with that nonsense dude like seriously. Such a childish remark. Fuck out my face with that B.S. you fuckin mouthbreathers. And the same thing I told The Chodeski goes for you shithead. Don’t mention my wife or kids in a disrespectful manner ever again unless you want to actually fight me for real outside of the ring and find out what I’m really all about aight Cage? Do your fucking worst junior. BECAUSE I FEAR NO MAN OR MONSTER! WE ALL BLEED THE SAME BLOOD! AND KEEP FUCKIN WITH YA BOI, AND A HELL OF A LOT OF YOURS WILL BE LEAKIN REAL SOON! But speaking of Fear. Let me turn my attention to Jacob Sea- I mean Senn! All seriousness. Jacob Senn is naturally the man I am looking out for the most throughout this matchup. What he does and what I do will always be connected and intertwined no matter where we go or how much time passes by. It just cannot be helped at this point. But Jacob makes probably the single most powerful statement out of everyone participating in this entire war for the Omega Heavyweight Championship including myself. And it goes as follows: “For those of you smart enough to have fear for what is to come, you’ll be the first to fall in this temple of carnage. For those of you who will say they don’t possess that fear, I’ll make sure to instill it within you inside of this figurative Green Mile.” Well this is quite a strong statement and most others would just cast it aside without a second thought as Senn trying to sound prolific or some shit. However I really took a deep look at this statement and looked to myself internally for how it made me feel. And the truth is, I do carry quite a bit of fear within me. However one thing I have never feared, is my fellow man inside of the ring. What I fear are those people outside of the ring. How would they ever react to anything I say or do. Will I always have their love or respect just as they have mine? Will I continue to be able to live up to their standards? Because no matter how you slice it, this bullshit that we’re all about to go through in this championship chase, benefits nobody else greater than them, because they get the pleasure of bearing watch to it the entire way through. I guess if I were to fear something else it's well...when under extreme situations and conditions like this, will I ever go too far? Will I ever do something to my fellow man be that even the fucking living chode that is perceived as going too far in the eyes of the people? So in a way Senn, I completely deviated from the point you made. But to answer it simply, no I do not fear you. I have never feared you. I have always respected you, even when I disliked you. In my younger years I admired you. And now I view myself as an equal to you. A peer. And I know the both of us are going to go beyond what either one of our bodies or minds should be doing at this stage, because that’s what was always instilled in us over the years. We’re crazy bastards but hell, I know for a fact you’re gonna do everything it takes to come out on top, so why shouldn’t I?

Speaking of people who pleasantly surprised me tho, how’s about that sickcunt Keelan Callihan huh? How’s my favorite Koala been lately? First off Keelan is wise enough to realize that Chode Boi ain’t makin it past me. So automatic credit right there Keelan, you already doin better than Yung Cagington now. Oh trust me Keelan, when I said everything I said about how you had the assistance of the entire Zaibatsu stable to overcome me at Boiling Point 2019, that was not me saying that you could never defeat me one on one with all of your might now. If anything it was a dare for you to step up and do it! I HOPE TO SEE IT! I WANT TO SEE HOW MUCH FURTHER YOU’VE PROGRESSED SINCE THOSE DAYS! YOUR WARS WITH FINNEGAN SINCE THEN, YOU HOLDING THE TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIPS WITH CARLOS, YOU STILL BEING AMONG THE TOP BRASS ON FRIDAY NIGHT OLYMPUS EVEN AMONGST ALL THE RETURNS AND NEW ADDITIONS! It just goes to show that your presence CANNOT and WILL NOT be denied! And I’ve ALWAYS respected that about you Keelan! I’m glad you’re more than reasonable Keelan. MAN IT SEEMS THE GUYS WHO I’VE WORKED WITH THE MOST ARE THE ACTUAL SMARTEST WHEN IT COMES TO DEALING WITH ME! WHO WOULDA FUCKIN FIGURED THAT ONE HUH? SENN AND KEELAN BEING THE TWO MOST LOGICAL OPPONENTS AGAINST ME HEADING INTO A HUGE MULTIMAN WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP WAR?! MAN HELL REALLY HAS FUCKIN FROZEN OVER HASN’T IT! THIS WOULDA NEVER HAPPENED EVEN AS RECENT AS LAST GODDAMN YEAR! And what’s good with everyone trying to tell me they're gonna take me out for good? People REALLY trying to squeeze that clout outta me and absorb it for themselves! Whether it’s Chode, Cage, Darkane, Keelan, HELL EVEN THE CHAMP SAID IT! The only one who don’t need it is Senn, you know the guy who was a main eventer when I was a fuckin rookie working my way up the system. Oh yeah Keel trust me as well, I have NOT forgotten about the road spike to my neck. You were literally going to murder me live on pay per view had the ghost from your past known as Finnegan Wakefield, our current Television Champion, not come back in just the nick of time to stop you. So how’s about you Rack Off with that one aight my dude. It’s like I mentioned earlier, everybody’s driving me nuts and I don’t know when I’ll snap...or who I’ll fuckin snap on. I could very well turn the other cheek and have your ass dead to rights at MY feet if you’re not careful my boi. But enough of dealing with the down under. Let’s head straight to the trash to address our less than fortunate Giant of an Omega Heavyweight Champion shall we? And when I say less than fortunate, I’m referring to the fact that THIS was his first World Championship defence on Pay-Per-View. Well I mean. What else can I say but fucking BRAVO! MAGNIFIQUE! Truth be told big guy, this is exactly why you are the fucking Champion. Excerpts like THAT! YOU ARE A FUCKING MAD GENIUS AND EVEN IF YOU ARE UNAWARE OF HOW YOU DO IT, YOU ARE IN TUNE WITH YOURSELF ENOUGH TO KNOW HOW TO KEEP DOING IT WHENEVER NECESSARY! You hold a commanding presence nobody else on Olympus can even manage right now, not even I. The only one who could stand up to you with the pen is probably Jacob Senn in my eyes, but who knows. I know one thing. That’s not going to stop me. Nothing you or anybody else say will ever possibly stop me. And you made a lot of valid points unlike half the people we’re dealing with Derelict! Yes being on top for a while has made me far more complacent than I could have ever imagined being. Think of it this way. Imagine a man who possesses the mind to change the world as we know it, but due to the conditioning he’s received for several years now he cannot make good on any of his inner thoughts or ideals. That is how I have felt since about mid 2018! I don’t know if you were able to ever witness me in my years ascending up the card, but I had probably the biggest chip on my shoulder and fiery desire to be number one that anyone in this industry has EVER had! I lived and breathed that shit to the point where it was probably unhealthy. And then I did the impossible. I actually achieved it. It took eight years of blood, sweat, and tears. But the miracle finally became a reality. I made it to the top and finally earned the respect of all of my peers and all the legends who paved the way for me. Now I stand here essentially a legend myself even though I kinda skipped the phase of being the guy in his prime carrying this industry on his back like many of my predecessors including Jacob Senn got to enjoy for many years. I sorta just immediately transitioned from Young Upstart straight to Seasoned Veterarn. But I have a new chip on my shoulder now Derelict. I cannot stop unless I prove I was not a one hit wonder. I need to know that I still got it. And more importantly that the world still cares if I do. Even if this match kills me!

The shot begins in Azumi’s second home, here in Queens, New York. We see pictures of Azumi and her family’s lives on the wall, a typical wall of family photos until one of the largest photos is that of Azumi winning the OWA Women’s Championship in early 2019 at the first Clash Of The Titans event. We cut to Azumi who seems to be ready to talk in front of the camera as she is in her office, her eyes seem intense as she begins to speak.

I know I’ve been quiet up to this point, you’ve called me out. I get it Alyssa but I’m not allowed some time to myself? Poking the bear already are we? I truly needed some time to myself to look past everything and some things settle in. 

How desperation creeps in to make people do unthinkable things, only a few people know that feeling. I never asked for people to be concerned for me, I knew what I was getting myself into. Everything on the table for a gamble, if I don’t win I walk away from everything. I walk away from the world I’ve loved for so long, not just Odyssey but the entire world of pro-wrestling. I’ll give it all up and I need people to see that. In front of a worldwide audience, this could be one of the last times I will ever wrestle. In the back of my mind, I could have just challenged and that would have been enough but I put this extra stipulation. Because I’m serious when I say that if I can’t beat you then there isn’t a place for me. If I can’t beat this new Wunderkind, then what’s the point of being here? Unlike you, I have this amazing habit of knowing that I can lose. The amount of times I’ve ended up looking at the ceiling of a building is incredible. You say that no amount of what I do will be enough but might I remind you that it will be the same for you. Do you understand who you’re facing, Alyssa Grace? I’m not anything like your previous challengers and people you’ve faced, I’m the woman who built the foundation that you currently stand on and get to talk on. I’m the woman who put herself through everything so that I could stand in the spot where I was. Right now, I’m not that same person. I’m The Goddess who fell from her place in the heavens but I’m also the same one that stood up through everything. From every heartbreak, I stood back up. You and I definitely aren’t built from the same cloth because I don’t think you would be able to do the same.

You don’t look like someone who will push through failures. I’m sorry to say but I’ve seen what I have in the past few weeks and what I see is someone’s hype does more talking. Let me tell you this, look at Diantha and look at yourself. Do you see a difference because it should be clear as day? You are confident in your ability, she is confident in her will. Now take Diantha and add a few more battle scars filled years, hell even the same path. Someone who has been on both paths like Diantha but I guess you aren’t facing Diantha or at least not yet. You’ll probably face her for the Women’s Championship somewhere down the line but you’ll see what I mean. Normally I accept that I can lose but this is the one time that I’m walking in with everything on the line. We’ve talked about what happens when I lose but you seem to be confident and assured that you’re going to win. I need to know if you'll be shattered into pieces because if you do, I’ll be honest my expectations about you would be ruined. If you can’t handle losing to the old withered down Ace, then I don’t get why people consider you to be anything better than an overhyped child. 

Right, you need to understand where I come from. My entire career has been one filled with failures but those same failures created an invincible woman. Someone who could never accept the idea of staying down. Go through this locker room, not just Odyssey but OWA as a whole and I want you to find someone who fought and pushed. Who are you going to name and I’ll shoot down as people can’t come close to my willingness to get back up. My back is against the wall and I’m at my best when that happens to me. I enjoy being pushed back because I’ll push against the world. And what other challenges can be bigger than having everything be taken away in a single moment if I lose? I understand that a lot of people see you winning but I’m pretty good at proving people wrong, kind of comes with the mentality of someone who won’t die. I accept the notion that I can lose but I refuse to accept that to be the end of my story. I need to push, I need to fight more and I know that I'm at fault for putting myself in this situation but I need to know. This is a battle that I need to go through to see if, at my speed, I can keep up. This is my battle to try and prove something to people, a battle where I can prove something to myself.

You’re talented Alyssa but against me. Youthful talent alone doesn’t beat an Ace, no matter how talented the individual is. I’m not showing confidence in my abilities, I already am confident in that but rather I’m confident that when you see me face-to-face in that ring, you won’t have an answer in how to put me down. The Ace doesn’t go down to someone who struggles to beat a seventeen-year-old. When you said that I was great, it stung a bit. Because last time I checked, I’ve been great for the past half-decade, and never once did I lose that. You can keep winning as much as you want but I’ll show you what it means to lose when you face me. When someone wins, they grow more confident but arrogant as well. When a person loses, they grow more mature. After all, if all you can do is win, I can’t wait to simply shatter whatever confidence you have in yourself since you seem to wear it like armor. Check with anyone in OWA what happens when failure hits them, you’re talented enough to get back up to your feet. To be fair you dropped faster than I thought you would on Odyssey… Here I thought Alyssa Grace would see a sneak attack coming from a mile away but I guess you’re so full of yourself, you weren’t expecting me to pull the trigger. As I said, you’re confident and arrogant. That’s a good thing but you aren’t mature. Let me remind you that you beat Nyx for a title defense and that doesn’t count for much last time I checked. Just like how Eris doesn’t count as much for the importance of the Women’s Title. I could have beaten Nyx and I’ve faced someone double her size. You toppled Odyssey’s big giant while I went head to head with THE Giant of OWA. What you've done in these nine months doesn't compare to what I've done in nine-plus years.

Just like how you’re another person who thinks they’re the future because people claim it. I hope to dear God that you don’t end up like Jessy Saxon. One title reign and that’s all you can achieve. 

There’s a reason my name is said with a tone of respect in it because I’m the woman who put this brand on my back during its beginning. I’m not The Ace because I put myself before others but rather because I put my faith in others to rise up and take the next step. With the exception of a few moments in my past, I don’t look down on others with disdain and such. I want others to get better because it makes me want to push myself harder. Diantha Rosso, Natalie Cage, and even my own little sister. 

And so I’ll continue to elevate others by asking you to get better. You aren’t going to beat me with how you are right now. This is a fact and in our match, it will be a reality. You need more than sheer confidence in dethroning The Ace, Alyssa. 

Every single person in that venue will be cheering for one person. They’ll be cheering for me and in return, I will be fighting for them. Everyone knows this outright that I will be out there in what might be my last match in OWA and one of the last matches for my career but I’ll be there competing with a smile on my face. If this is the last moment where some people will get to see me, I want them to see the passionate Ace of Odyssey. I can accept the idea that I can lose but just not for this match.


So I might as well go out there and fight until I can’t any longer because if I lose I won’t be able to do that regardless.

This isn’t the prelude to the end but more like this is a prelude to a new beginning. A brighter world, a rebirth of sorts for Azumi Goto.

The scene begins outside in the streets of New York, New York. The clouds covering up the skylines as the scene transitions from the crowded New York streets to a Large Retail Store somewhere around the area. The camera points at the entrance with a banner front and center, showcasing the name of the establishment.


The camera slowly pans around to reveal Christopher Sabertooth, Jada Blaire, Vincent, Maverick, and Jacob Knight outside the establishment. All of them dressed in casual clothing, as they approached the automated doorway of the store with a list of things in-hand to assist them with their shopping needs for the day.

“Guys. Remember, that there’s a big occasion right around the corner that deserves a grand celebration. Let’s just say, there’s a whole lot of gold heading into our household and we might need to make arrangements to accommodate for the same. But a party is a party! So, get all the essentials that a party needs. Grab some liquor-- maybe a couple of decorations for the house. Jada and I will look for the grub situation and find something worthwhile for the gang to eat. I’ll meet you guys outside of the store in about an hour. Got it? Any questions?” Inquired Sabertooth as the rest of the group shook their head in response. 

They enter through the gate and split into groups as Sabertooth and Jada walk around the store together. They have a shopping cart along with them as Jada adds cans of spray paint to the cart. They slowly move along the way to a section of bags and suitcases on display.

“Look! That briefcase is quite similar to the one I have back in our place! Should I get this one as a souvenir? I might be doing away with the one at home very soon. Won’t need it, you know? Actually, I’d rather measure its worth in gold and get something like that in exchange. Let’s move on.” He said as he shuffled through the items in the shop as a group of security staff showed up behind him. They have a serious look on their faces as they stare down Sabertooth and Jada, who is still cluelessly shopping at their own whims and fancy. Sabertooth finally sees them in his peripherals as he turns his attention towards them with a look of confusion on his face.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” He questioned as the Security team took one step closer to the dismay of Sabertooth and co. “Excuse me! What is this about? We’re just minding our own business here!” He exclaimed but to no avail as one of the security members finally breaks the silence.

“We’ve been informed to escort you and your friends out of the facility. You are not welcome here. Don’t look at us sideways-- We’re just doing our job.” Mentioned one of the security staff members. 

“That is absolutely ridiculous! We’re just in here to grab what we need and we’ll be out before you even know it. Why are we being targeted for no reason?! This is an absolute travesty and I will make sure that your upper management hears about it. I am sick and tired of being singled out like this by your company and portrayed as a bad person. That’s not me! You guys are painting the wrong picture here and I won’t let my brand be doused in the mud like that. That’s right-- I WANT TO SEE YOUR MANAGER RIGHT NOW!” Exclaimed Sabertooth as the Security staff tried to calm him down.

“We can’t do that. We’ve got direct orders to escort you out of the premises and that’s it. We’re here to act upon it and don’t want any trouble. Let’s just get it over with and you can go to some other place and finish your shopping there.” Explained one of the guards, only to anger Jada and Sabertooth furthermore. Sabertooth shows demonic tendencies as his pupils slowly turn red, signaling at the arrival of his demonic persona, Havoc.

“TAKE ME TO YOUR FUCKING MANAGER RIGHT NOW! TIME AND TIME AGAIN I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR MANAGEMENT TRYING TO FUCK WITH ME AND MY PEOPLE. I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THEIR BULLSHIT. ALL I EVER DID WAS TRY TO MIND MY OWN BUSINESS AND ACCOMPLISH SOMETHING ON MY OWN. AND IF I COULD BRING MY PEOPLE ALONG FOR THE JOURNEY-- WHAT WRONG EVER CAME FROM THAT? BUT I HAVE BEEN TARGETED! VICTIMISED! MADE A MOCKERY OUT OF ON A REGULAR BASIS! AND NOW YOU DARE KICK ME OUT OF THIS FACILITY? ON WHAT GROUNDS?! I WANT TO SEE YOUR MANAGER RIGHT NOW! NOW! NOW!” Havoc screamed as the Security team backed away fearing their own safety and deciding to comply with the demon in front of them. With a smirk on her face, Jada whispers something into the ear of Havoc that is quick to calm his nerves down and bring him back to his senses. The security team led the pair down the aisle and right at the doorstep of the Manager of the facility. A knock on the door follows as a stubby, curly-haired, stone-faced brute steps through the doors with a nasty snarl on his face. He bore resemblance to the former Spartan’s Champion and current GM of Kingdom, Reginald Dampshaw III.

“Why the fuck are they still here? I sent twenty of you to take out a group of five people and you couldn't do it. I guess you have to do things on your own accord to actually get stuff done. How hard is it for you to understand that I don’t want you on MY Kingdom? You are nothing but a menace to this facility ever since you stepped foot in it all those years ago. I tried to be civil but my boss wouldn’t have it that way. He wants me to deal with you personally and that’s exactly what I’ll do. You are no longer welcome here. Heck, I can’t wait to kick you out of this place by myself!” Exclaimed the store manager. 

“And why is that so? Bossman won’t pay you if you don’t do your job? Or are you trying to please him to get on his good side? Surely, your head’s already too far up his ass for you to see anything clearly at this point. That’s not enough? You want to take away my livelihood from me? All I ever did was to get my message across to the people suffering on a daily basis from the society looking down upon them. All I ever did was give these people a platform-- a voice to let them know that they’re not alone in this fight. All I ever did was give the downtrodden-- the weak… the abandoned, a reason to succeed! A motive! A resolve, stronger than any selfish motive that you could ever have. Is that a crime?! I am just minding my damn business here and a group of your goons just walk up to me, asking me to leave the premises. Is that how you deal with all of your problems? Just hope that they leave because you’re too much of a pussy to deal with it yourself. You are a disgrace to this establishment! This place was built upon the foundation of serving its people. It certainly wasn’t fueled by personal agendas of narcissistic assholes like yourself, wanting to get ahead of the competition by twisting and turning the rules and regulations to your own favor. If I were you, I’d use the power bestowed upon me to change the very fabric of this world-- let alone this company. You are a waste of human space!” Exclaimed Havoc as through bits and pieces, the inner Sabertooth in him shined through as he calmed down with every passing second.


“What the fuck do you want from me, cunt? Is that why you asked to see me? To tell me how much better you’d be at my job? You Karen motherfucker. Prove it then! Do something about it! Show me why you’re better!” Screamed the manager as Havoc came to a standstill. He begins to chuckle to himself as everybody around him looks in confusion. 

“I thought you’d never ask!” He said, in a dark twisted tone as everything around the scene starts changing. Gone are the security members. All that’s left are visions from the future. Images from what appears to be the future led by Havoc pops up on the screen. Audience members donning his iconic face paint staring at the competitors with bone-chilling calmness. Wrestlers having to bow down to the Ashes as Havoc is seen sitting in his high and mighty Iron Throne looking down upon his Kingdom. His followers replaced every staff member backstage and turned everything upside down. Bloody walls. Gloomy lighting. And finally, a wrestling ring set on fire with Havoc standing in the middle of it. That’s where the scene comes to a halt as the camera slowly pans around the surprisingly dark arena with nothing but a flaming ring in the middle of it. Havoc, not bothered by the heat at all stands front and center looking as menacing as ever.

“The future of Kingdom hangs in the balance when Reginald puts his job on the line at Game Over. I don’t know exactly what Scott Oasis has in his mind but he certainly made my job a lot easier. I have been lobbying against the management since day one and pitching the idea of a Kingdom run by the Ashes. A Kingdom where people get what they deserve. While most of them deserve an ass-whoopin of a lifetime-- A lot of these wrestlers deserve to see a future where they can take their careers in their own hands. No longer limited by the bottlenecks placed by the management, they will flourish as they have never before. That’s the future I am willing to be a part of. Not a future where the General Manager inserts himself in a match he wasn’t ready for at Boiling Point and then proceeded to be the failure that he is known to be. A General Manager who can only get the job done when pitted against a 17-year-old child and then takes massive pride in that solitary victory. Reginald, you have been a recognizable name in this company for a long time. Former Spartan’s Champion for a reason! Heck, you beat the longest reigning champion in Jeff X to take your place at the top. But look at what has happened since! Jeff has moved on to contest for the World Championship on MULTIPLE occasions. He won the Clash earlier this year and main evented Final Destination! And once again, he finds himself in a favorable spot despite all his failures in the previous attempts as he faces Moongoose McQueen at Game Over. And what about you? Ever since you lost the Spartan’s Championship to Arata, you have been nothing but a walking punchline for everything that Japanese cunt has done in wrestling. He beat you for your title here so you tried to blindside him in Wrestleworld and return the favor-- Yet you failed! And the only shot you ever had for the OWA World Title was from your own intervention. You took the CM Nas route of becoming the world champion by trying to present yourself as the star that you’re clearly not. You were the odd one out in the Steel Asylum Match. People talked about how the Steel Asylum had Five of the best Kingdom had to offer-- AND Reginald Dampshaw III. You ABUSED your power to get yourself in favorable positions and STILL failed. What does that make you? And here you are, challenging the Ashes and wanting to get rid of them when all we did is to look forward and try to bring a change in this company by getting RID of people like yourself. People who have taken advantage of their position for far too long! You’ve tried to stop my movement and here you’re at! Your job on the line!” Havoc explained, with a hint of disappointment in his voice. He should be excited over facing a member of management but RD3 doesn’t evoke the same feelings of hatred as a Scott Oasis could. RD3 seems like a mere puppet being manipulated to do their bidding and is now being sacrificed for having failed.

“What’s the first thing you do after the announcement of our match? You practically BEG Scott Oasis to change his mind and take the major implications for the future of Kingdom out of this matchup. You wanted your safety net-- You wanted the job security that you were so easily willing to take away from me and my people. All of your talk about ending the Ashes have fallen to deaf ears because now it’s time for you to take action upon your promises. And yet you fail to stop cowering under your feet-- I can see you’re shaken, RD3! The only taste of power that you’ve ever had is about to be taken away from you and you’re scared! You’re scared about YOUR future in a world run by anarchists like me. BEHOLD THE TIME LIZARD, you proclaim at every step of the way and you did intrigue me for quite some time. I took notice of your work RD3 and it was honestly fascinating to see your prey on the weak along the way to get any sort of validation in your life and career. While I stare down the barrel of the toughest this company has to offer and laugh at the face of death. I have been wronged for far too long and it’s about time I give this company a taste of their own medicine. I need them to feel the way I’ve felt for YEARS! FUCKING YEARS! Waiting for my opportunity but being denied because somebody else in the back had their turn coming because of their shared history in some other company that will not be named. I should have been the champion-- THE champion, long ago! I should be fucking running this company by now but here I am facing a power-hungry, incompetent, never-was of a competitor who belongs at the bottom-feeding levels with the rest of his fucking goons that he commands. You’re lucky to have been favored by the management until now-- BUT they’ve had enough of you. They wanted to get rid of me since the moment I started saying the things that nobody dared to say-- And you COULDN’T execute their order and take me out. So, now you’ve been set-up to be in the firing range. You’re right in my line of sight and I am about to pull the trigger on your fucking ass for all the miscarriage of justice that happened under your reign. You are being sacrificed for the cause, RD3! Scott Oasis knows that you’re done for! If he hadn’t put you in this situation-- your death would probably have been FAR more painful than what it will be now. I do pity you, RD3. I really do. Here I thought that you were just drunk with power-- While you had been the victim all along. They never trusted you to begin with. You were just an experiment along the way to find the perfect puppet for their master plans. They wanted to end me-- But they couldn’t. So, now they offer me a position that I have wanted for a long time. A platform that I can use to ACTUALLY make a difference. Call it irony, but it clearly seems to be a ploy to sign my soul away to the devil. They want to OWN me as they own you. But I see right through it! I am not going to let the power corrupt me as it has for countless other individuals before me. I know what needs to be done. I have been trying to make a change in this company and I’ve seen some success along the way. As I got my way into the Steel Asylum match through FEAR alone, you handed yourself the SAME opportunity like it was candy. I’ve come to the conclusion that to bring a change in this world, you can only do it from within the system. I am going to destroy this company and everything it stands for-- Rebuilding it from the Ashes left behind. I want your job, RD3. I WANT YOUR SOUL! You may be the sacrifice, but trust me! I will make good of it all! Your demise is necessary for the Ashes to progress on to the next level. A new era is upon us. Kingdom will never be the same again and that’s partly because of you. Your incompetence led to this match coming to fruition.” He said with a faint smirk on his face. 


“So, beg all you want. Your prayers will not be answered. This is the end of the road for you, RD3. It’s time for you and Kingdom to accept their fate. It’s time for the Ashes of the Wake to show the world what we TRULY mean by change. They say, ‘Be the change you want to be’. Well, that’s going to be my-- OUR reality. Accept it. Not that you or anybody else have a choice. The Ashes of the Wake are taking over Kingdom. You have no choice but to let us in. But I promise you… Take my hand-- AND YOU WILL NEVER WALK ALONE!” Havoc exclaimed as the flame grew around him. Unbothered by it all, his demonic aura leaves a lasting presence as the scene fades to black.

Natalie Cage


Border Control 1


Natalie is sitting in her gym with Cori Simmons.
 
Cori: Natalie, thank you for granting us this interview ahead of your match with Llorona at Game Over.
 
Natalie: You’re welcome.
 
Cori: This is your first singles match on an OWA pay-per-view since Clash of the Titans, the show where you lost the Women’s World Championship to Dulce Torres. We’ve seen you sporadically since then, but now you’re back for good, correct?
 
Natalie: Yeah. I never walked away. I was banged up after being the champ for as long as I was and going at the elite level for as long as I did. Doctors wouldn’t let me wrestle because God knows I’d never stay out of the ring by choice. This is it now, we’re back to the way things were. Natalie Cage is back on Odyssey and not a moment too soon. The four pillars of this show are me, Diantha, Dulce and Azumi. One of those pillars might just fall down this weekend. Who is gonna be the one to hold things up? I’m gonna have to pull my weight and do what I always do: excel above everyone else.
 
Cori: And you want to chase title gold still?
 
Natalie: Everyone on this roster should be chasing gold. If you’re not, then why are you even here? The whole point of this job is to get in, win titles, make money, and get out with your dignity. Every match I wrestle, every move I make, it’s always with championship gold in mind. If not the world title, there’s a Goddesses belt to snag, tag titles to grab, we’re not exactly short on hardware in OWA. But I had my title match and I lost. Am I bitter? Yeah, bitterness is a part of losing. But who are the only people to pin me since I became the champ? Diantha and Dulce. Two of the best in the fucking world and two women I’ve beaten myself. When you’re rubbing shoulders with the greatest to ever do it, you’re gonna trade wins down the line, it’s just the name of the game, you know? While everyone is running around making excuses about why they lost, talking about how their training wasn’t where it needed to be or someone cheated, I can acknowledge when someone’s had my number. When you’ve shared the ring with me as many times as Diantha has, you’re obviously gonna pick up on habits to exploit. It’s good, she’s learning. She’s taken everything I taught her and used it to start her reign off right. Let me tell you this though: I don’t think anyone but me is good enough to take that title from her. Does that make me unbeatable unless I’m facing Diantha? Fuck no, I’m a human being. But when it comes to big match, high pressure situations, yeah, maybe I am just that much better than the rest.
 
Cori: Well, Llorona doesn’t seem to think so.
 
Natalie: Llorona is a mad dog but she’s got spirit. I was out there doing my thing, talking through all of Odyssey’s new upstarts and she was the only one with the balls to answer the call. I admire that. I admire the conviction it takes to march down to the ring, stare the GOAT of your brand in the face and tell her you want to fight. I saw a level of intensity in her that I haven’t seen in an Odyssey talent since me.
 
Cori: So why try and invoke her anger?
 
Natalie: Look, I don’t hate the new breed of talent. I don’t hate anyone who has the stones to step up and grab greatness by the throat. I’ve been on Odyssey since the beginning and I’ve seen rookies come and go. These new guys? They’re not like that, they actually feel like they’re gonna be here to stay and that the brand’s in good hands. Here’s the thing though, all I hear about is how great these guys are. Everyone talking about the amazing new crop of wrestlers taking Odyssey by storm. And how many of them have taken my spot? How many of them are where I was this soon into my run? What’s the world title match for Game Over? Diantha vs. Dulce, because they’re still the standard. Who did Viola call to save the chamber at Hardcore Havoc when Christie Sky’s leg got all fucked up? Me. I’m not some faded star of yesteryear trying to recapture past glory, I’m still in there with my sisters who I came up with and being the top dog. Me and Diantha closed Odyssey 1, Odyssey 25 AND Odyssey 50. 50 whole episodes and we’re still operating on a higher level.
 
Llorona knew she had to change something, so she operated on prison logic – something she’s probably pretty familiar with. She went up to the biggest dog in the yard and picked a fight, knowing her rep will be secure if she wins. But that’s where her crusade ends. I’ve been watching Llorona very closely and she’s talented, no doubt there. But she’s been in OWA for how long now? Almost a year? What’s she got to show for it apart from scars? In under a year, I won the Clash, took Azumi Goto’s head off and became the most dominant world champion this company’s ever seen. That’s because I’m not a choke artist. Llorona does a fine job at maiming people, but has she EVER won a match on pay-per-view? She keeps taking on people she SHOULD be beating and doesn’t get the job done. And now she’s backed into a corner. That little perro is terrified that she’s gonna fade into the background, so someone like Alyssa Grace or Jonetta Stone can actually step up to the plate and score a home run. You don’t want to rely on Llorona to be your franchise player because she’s constantly falling at the last hurdle. She’s good to go out there and kick some arse, spill a bit of blood, be that badass who gets the crowd going. But she’s had her chances at gold, she’s had her shot at Athena’s Cup. When is she gonna realise that some people just don’t get to reach the peaks that others do?
 
Cori: You don’t think Llorona is able to do what you do?
 
Natalie: Look, is it straight up impossible for her to be amazing and do all this great shit? No. But when it comes down to it, you gotta look at the evidence presented to you. We’re talking about a tough, resourceful woman who comes from a dark, violent place. When I uppercutted her in the jaw with brass knuckles, she got back up and kept on swinging. That isn’t something just anyone can do. There’s a tenacity to Llorona. A raw, animalistic side that excites me. You have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve shared the ring with someone that brought that level of aggression out of me? I haven’t seen anyone that willing to push themselves to carnal violence since Eris. And Eris did pretty well for herself, didn’t she? Oh wait, no, I beat her arse at every turn and she flopped as world champion. Because she was never world champion material to begin with. She grabbed the gold and ran because she knew that the moment Diantha got her rematch, the dream was over.
 
Llorona couldn’t even get the Athena’s Cup. Just think about that one, she’s behind the woman I spent a whole season mollywhopping in terms of accomplishments. Pretty sad state of affairs if you ask me. I wasn’t just running my mouth out there on Odyssey, I was making a statement of intent. I was telling the new girls to wait their turn while the grown-up was talking. Llorona’s the first in a long line of hotshots who have to be taught their place. I’m gonna enjoy teaching her not to fuck with the people who hold power over you.
 
Cori: Do you not think that her relatively fresh presence on Odyssey could be your undoing?
 
Natalie: I mean, there is always that threat of a new thing taking you by surprise. Variety is the spice of life and all that. But I just have to back up real quick and talk about the way you’re referring to me. I know wrestling moves fast but fuck me, I’m not some old woman who’s past her prime. I’m not pushing 40, pumping out kids and barely able to crack off a full workout in the gym. I’m 26 years old and I’ve been a pro wrestler for less than two years. Think about that shit. Think about the fact that there are women in this company who have been at this since I was a teenager and they’ve never been half as big a deal as me. I’m a fucking prodigy. I’ve surpassed my own brother and he’s been at this for a lot longer than I have. He’s got his first ever world title match this weekend at Game Over, I’ve been in nine world title matches. Find me one person in this company who’s been in more. Two fucking years and I’m the most prolific main event player this company has. Two years and I’ve got nowhere to go but up. That time away after Clash was a speedbump. I’ve got another ten or fifteen years of this shit left in me. What are people gonna say? That I peaked early or some shit? Go back and watch my last match and tell me if that’s the performance of someone who’s over the hill.
 
Cori: But what if-
 
Natalie: What if I lose, right? That’s what you wanna ask me? Let me break it down for you so everyone can understand: losing is a part of life. It’s possible to commit absolutely zero mistakes and still lose. That’s not weakness, that’s being human. If Llorona had just a 1% chance of beating me and we faced each other a hundred times, there is a guarantee that she’d beat me once. She could beat me in the very first match, even. I’m sick of all the people in this sport who are acting like they’re never gonna lose. I’ve lost and it fucking sucks. Did I become some sad sack who was hung up on that loss? Have I EVER received a setback in my life and let it define me? I’ve watched my friends die in the theatre of war, Cori. I can handle being held down on a canvas for three seconds by someone.
 
If Llorona wins, it’ll be the single biggest win of her career and I’d like to think she’d do something with it. Maybe parlay it into a title match, maybe get herself a main event slot. But can she pull it off? Can the little chica who could fight the biggest threat of her entire career and walk away with her hand raised? I’m curious to see just what exactly she brings to the table when faced with poor odds. Is she a violent, sociopathic maniac who’s gonna give me the fight of my life? Oh fuck yeah, and I can’t wait to be a part of it. You know I live for shit like that. You know that when you crack me as hard as you can and I start to taste my own blood, it sets off some animalistic impulse inside of me that can’t be contained.
 
Me and Llorona let our heads go to dark places and we bring out the worst in the people we face. Hell, she managed to turn Diantha into a glass wielding nutter in the chamber, which was admittedly pretty fun to watch. What happens when those two combustible elements go head-to-head, I wonder? Viola was wise just to make this a regular match, because I’m not sure Yankee Stadium would even be left standing if we had access to a wider range of toys. Let her bring everything she’s got, let her be the beast I know she is and let’s see if she can get over the hump. You can learn a lot about someone by how they win, but you can learn even more from how they lose. I’ve taken some Ls this year, but did I skulk away? No, I’m back, I’m reinvigorated and I’m still on the track to regain my crown.
 
If I have to bitch slap a motherfucker who just doesn’t know when she’s bitten off more than she can chew, then I guess that’s the way it is. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got some gym buddies to beat up.
 
Cori: Natalie, thank you for your time.
 
Natalie: My fucking pleasure.
 
Natalie yanks off her lapel mic and heads on over to a judo mat, where she promptly starts taking down men far bigger than here.
 
Cori: Natalie Cage with some strong, pointed words for her Game Over opponent there. I’ve been Cori Simmons, we’ll see you next time.

Nate Cage


Thunderbastard 1: Beyond Thunderbastard


Nate stands atop a roof, looking out at the city skyline. Tarah Nova’s barbed wire bat is firmly held in his right hand. The tightness of his grip indicates there may only be a second between tranquillity and carnage.
 
One of these days, I am going to jump. And I cannot wait to feel that cold smack of concrete against my face. My organs liquefying as I finally succumb to His embrace. But there is still work that needs to be done, because some people just do not understand how to behave appropriately.
 
Thunderdome is where I belong. It is truly my spiritual home. A Satanic creation of the highest order. I watched Kenny Drake’s limp body get dragged out of that structure, watched him get shipped to Norway to recover as I was handed the keys to his kingdom. And I burned the whole thing down. Why? Because I could.
 
I must say, the feeling of 10,000 volts coursing through your body as your heart gives out is riveting. I am so excited to share that experience with everyone in the match. All of you people think you understand. You think pain is something you have learned to cope with. But I do not see any of you giving your life for your cause. You can talk ad nauseum about the blood you have spilled, but my soul exited this plane that fateful night. I was reborn. I was recreated. What stands before you is a vessel for a new form of pain. I have looked forward to sharing my gift ever since I passed over.
 
Five men standing in front of me, but only one who has two braincells to rub together. Derelict, my friend, it is going to be so much fun to finally make your acquaintance. Our paths have crossed fleetingly, but the privilege of painting the canvas with each other’s DNA only now presents itself. You are a smart man to fear what I can do. And you are correct, pain is an incredible weapon. What I have done with my pain has brought me nothing but joy. The feeling of unleashing Hell on another man cannot be replicated. Though given what I have seen you do to people, I can imagine you have got quite close to that same euphoric state. You have something I have wanted for a long time. Something I have only just been granted the opportunity to claim. I have said my piece on the injustice of depriving me what I deserve already, so I will spare you a repetitive spiel. However, when I procured this title shot, you were the only name on my mind.
 
These other men we are going to war with? Background noise. The true battle is between Alpha and Omega, is it not? I am the beginning of this place, of this stipulation, of this state of being. And you are the end. You are the final stop on a road riddled with hurt. Men have driven themselves insane to get what you have. All I had to do was push a few buttons in the right spot and what do you know? The path was unveiled to me. Of course, I could chop down tree after tree to get to the big Redwood with the gold if I really wanted to. But where is the fun in that? Why put off indulging my deepest desires? You are a big, strong, wilful terror. An unbreakable tank that keeps on coming. That is exactly the kind of task worthy of His will. I carry no delusions of demonic will, Derelict. I am disappointed that you would see me as such a thing. My mind is as clear as it ever has been. Are my actions that of an insane person? Could an insane person follow the path of least resistance to your challenge? I wanted to fight for your prize and all I had to do was ask. Now, only one step remains. I must engage with that oversized frame of yours and fry it to a fucking crisp. I know you will not take it personally but consider it a professional courtesy from one beast to another. I will bring the entire Thunderdome down on top of you is that is what it takes to prevent you from rising once more. It will not be a mercy killing, nor will it be a glorious death in battle. It is nothing more than me doing what is necessary to entomb you. Your desired ascent to Heaven will come much sooner than you anticipated, my friend. It is time to become accustomed with a spiritual existence. Let me be your guide to the other side, as I drape myself with the spoils you leave behind.
 
Now, it is time to talk about my favourite thing in the world: how fucking shit the Phantom Troupe are at intimidating anyone. You boys talk an awfully big game for two people who lost both their matches on Olympus. Hey Donny Darkane, you want to invoke my name while standing in an asylum? The fuck is this? Community theatre? I just BOUGHT an actual theatre and trust me son, the actor I have brought in to portray you is a fucking doozy, though maybe a bit less disappointing to gaze upon. Yeah, Hell spat me out, spat me out so I could collect the souls of people who never got the memo that Kurt Cobain blew his fucking head off. Grunge died 25 years ago, Darkane, now take that fucking shovel that you like to murder people with and come at me with it. I will break that thing into and use your head as a fucking snare while I hoof Senn in the balls again at the same time. For a man who just lost to Keelan Callihan, you sure do enjoy talking a lot of shit, don’t you? Oh, but big, bad Gareth “took me out”, right? Yeah, that is why he is the one who I am keeping under lock and key and I am the one with a world title match. It is not about winning and losing all the time, sometimes, you have just got to pick your shot and take it. Kind of like how you decided to pick Gareth’s bones after I drove him to the edge of sanity at Hardcore Havoc. All I did was return the favour at Boiling Point. Do yourself a favour, stop being so mad all the time, get a shower and shove that shovel up John Doe’s ass, because it will be the most action he is seen in months.
 
And Jacob…JACOB FUCKING SENN! I FUCKING WARNED YOU TO STAY AWAY, DIDN’T I, YOU THICK PIECE OF SHIT?! Oh, but here you are, rocking up to what I GUARANTEED would be your final resting place. Phantom Troupe might be a group of old fucks but holy hell, the brain damage really is setting in thick and fast, huh? You walked in there with me, little old me, the embodiment of everything you see as a weakness and you lost like the bitch you are. I took your balls, I took your manhood, and I took your legacy to the fucking cleaners, didn’t I? And now you must watch, as the world title you apparently held - back when Olympus was Nas and friends – is given to someone who knows what it is like to earn something. All you have earned in your time back is a slap upside the head from yours truly, and we all know how it ended. For a wily veteran who claims to be a wave of evil and greatness, you sure do know how to fall for the oldest trick in the book. I know I am a skilled actor, but you really fucking went for the “I CAN’T BREATHE!” routine? You really that fucking stupid? Why exactly are you a threat in this match? Because based on past experiences, it would appear all I have to do is point in a random direction, exclaim there’s an ice cream truck behind you and knee you in the back of the skull while you crave that sweet taste of salted caramel.
 
Oh yeah, I almost forgot about Keelan Callihan, not that there is a whole lot to remember. You want to talk about me and Senn coming back? I was gone for maybe two, three months tops. Didn’t you disappear for an entire fucking year for absolutely no reason? It is alright, I do not expect much in the way of logic from you, mister big bad Killer who is keen to hang his “great” matches over our heads. I do not know if you have caught on yet mate, but we have all had great matches and we all wrestle in front of thousands of people on a bi-weekly basis. Essentially, what you have done is described your job and that somehow qualifies you for the ThunderDome more than it does me. You want to know why I deserve to be in there? Because I have done more for this company than any other fucker in the match. There is a reason people covet legacies so much, Keelan, because they mean you did not waste your fucking time. Your legacy is indistinguishable from everyone else in the field the way you have laid things out. You have been coasting on that Game Over 2018 match with Finn ever since it happened, like it has not since been surpassed. You cannot even lay claim to the greatest OWA rivalry in history, seeing as me and Kenny Drake literally fucking killed each other to snag that accolade from you. I am in this match to make sure someone like you does not drive OWA further into the fucking ground with your self-righteous bullshit. What is a Killer to a Devil? I am dragging you down as far as I can and letting you drown in the fires of Hell son. You can ignore the inevitability all you like; I am counting on it. Your presence on Olympus is a stark reminder of the dregs that this industry has had to put up with for so long. You still carry the shit stain from the other places you have been. Fuck you, Aussie cunt.
 
Which brings me to the Messiah, the Saviour, the Father of us all. The man sent down from the Heavens to lead us to greener pastures and make us whole again. For it is through his blessings that we can draw breath. That we can be held up, anointed by the embrace of the Almighty. Yes, it is time to talk about CM Nas. You need to stop being such a fucking shadow of your former self and grow a fucking spine. If there is anything left of your spine after the mileage you have got on you. I am not going to call for you to retire, because I want to be the one to kill you myself. Literally, I want to end your life in that ring, watch your soul leave your broken carcass. ThunderDome allows me that privilege. I want your heart to explode all over that ring. I want your kids to watch at home and live with scars for the rest of their lives. I want them to develop horrific substance abuse issues and spend their days in a crack den because of what I did to dear old dad. I doubt I will get the chance too though; you are so consumed with your rage against Nathan Fiora that I do not see you even making it into ThunderDome. You had your ten millionth world title shot lined up and got all insecure, and now you are trying to get back in? Drop the sympathy bullshit and say it like it is: you know you do not have it in you anymore to be that top player and you’ve sabotaged your own opportunity to avoid further embarrassment. All you do these days is show up, call out someone younger and more skilled than you and lose. You have lost so many times that it does not even mean anything anymore. Remember when Gareth tapped you out and it felt like a paradigm shift in this industry? Now, if someone puts you away, it barely turns any heads. Why? Because it is just the way things are now. It is the new normal. CM used to stand for Conquering Messiah, but now it stands for Crash Mat. That is all you are, someone for people like me to land on top of and crush under the weight of your failure to be a leader. This brand was built around you and almost died because of your little breakfast club. Only the hand-picked warriors can share the space with Nas, right? Only the best for you? Horseshit. If you somehow fluke your way into the dome, I am going to murder you, win the belt and take the gold to my jail cell. At least then we can say the title’s been in the presence of some mettle.
 
Sorry if you thought I was bigging you up as the reincarnation of Christ with my Nas into, Nate…NATE?! YOU FUCK! THAT’S MY NA- no, I promised I would not get angry. Okay, from this moment on, I am going to call you Nacho. Listen up Nacho, I don’t know what they’ve been putting in the holy water at your grandma’s church service, but the only things you have in common with the Saviour is that nobody knows who your real father is and the only women you know are prostitutes. While I saw Hell with my own two eyes and took on the task of being the Devil on Earth, you lost one too many matches and snapped. Let us compare our experiences and see the delineation, shall we? I died in the ring after a war for the ages with an all-time great, you lost an I Simp match and fumbled the TV Title like a fucking mongoloid. Forgive me for being a little confused as to why you’re a threat to anyone apart from Nas – who you would be fucking rinsed by in his prime, might I add – yes, I think you’re going to win your match and make your way into ThunderDome because you’re fighting a bag of bones. Well done you, that might be the most significant accomplishment of your career, beating the shit out of a senior citizen. Didn’t Jesus help the lame to walk and the blind to see? All you are doing is giving me a fucking migraine. You got a miracle to work on that one, Yahweh? You going to turn a Skittle into aspirin or some shit? While you were busy recruiting the bottom tier of the tag division as disciples, I have been busy conjuring up all the ways I am going to take you out and oh is it special. I will strike you down and you will not be rising on the third day, all you are going to do is wonder why your father hath forsaken you. You will be baptised in electricity, wrapped in a Turin Shroud of volts that will make you meet the real Jesus. What is the best way to crucify a retard? Nail them to a fucking triangle.
 
Nate Cage’s expression has gone from focused to somewhat manic, his face starts to tic and he looks a little confused.
 
Boy oh boy, I have no idea what came over me there. But the idea of sharing the ring with such a festering waste of humanity brings out the worst in me, doesn’t it? All I see is one man I respect and a field of unfortunate souls. Entering this theatre of nightmares is all I have been thinking about all week. The time ticks closer and closer, the stakes are higher than ever. After everything I have done, the bodies I have broken and the people I have hurt, all roads lead to Game Over. You can talk all you like about the past, but this is the last you will hear of it from me. I am here to chase what is happening right now. Derelict is the only one who understands the gravity of this situation. Everyone else has their positive mental attitude, envisioning dreams of greatness and gold. Fuck that, this is about killing the competition and taking everything in your path.
 
Phantom Troupe can do whatever they like. Fight each other, fight together, that laughable outfit will take its last stand and will never come out. You two think you are ready, but all I see is a man I know how to beat and a sick freak who I look forward to taking advantage of. The unstable ones are always the easiest to pick apart. I should know, I have been picking myself apart for years, it is the only way I can rebuild into the redeemer that stands before you.
 
Keelan, you are a wash. Anything you have to say to me, you had better come out full volume because I do not have time for your whiny little bitch voice. Start acting like a fucking man or stay gone. Everything you think you have done that is great is not special, and neither are you. I cannot wait to see you down in the fucking trenches, crying for help while I pull you up from the dirt and strip the flesh from your bones. What are you going to do? Try and hang me? I know it is in your MO, but I do not think you have the balls to do anything but bitch and complain anymore. Fucking shithead.
 
Nas, you are not even going to be in the match. Go home and explain to your family why you are a joke, pop some Viagra and make another cunt kid for the world to make fun of on social media. The world needs laughter.
 
Speaking of laughter, Nacho Fiora? Well, I just do not like you.
 
Cage goes to exit the rooftop, before turning around and directly addressing the camera operator.
 
Oh yes, I forgot about you. Listen old chap, you are not going to like this, but there is only one way off this roof for you…
 
The camera starts to tremble as Nate keeps on stepping closer. The camera op progressively takes more steps back, before almost falling off the edge and promptly stopping. The camera falls and lands on the ledge, revealing that Cage is holding his hand, preventing him from falling.
 
Can you fly, Bobby?
 
*DROP*

 
The camera zooms in on a building that was once a former warehouse. A warehouse that has since been transformed into a wrestling school where the future of the professional wrestling industry is being molded right before our eyes. The sound of bodies being slammed onto a wrestling ring can be heard echoing from outside of the building. The scene quickly cuts to inside of the wrestling school. Various event posters are tacked up on the walls around the wrestling ring, as a huge black and red Wolvesden flag is sprawled on one side of the wall, an exact replica flag that we saw in J.D. Damon’s office earlier in the week. Students stand on the ring apron, patiently waiting for their turn inside of the ring. Guest trainer, Kyle, runs the students through various drills. This, however, isn’t where our scene is going to take place. Well, not exactly. The scene once again cuts back to outside of the building. This time, we are out behind of the building. A metal barrel sits prominently on the ground, as a red gas cannister sits next to it.
 
They say… the most dangerous creation of any society is the man who has nothing to lose.
 
From what seems like out of nowhere steps the hero of our story, “The Ultimate Disharmony” J.D. Damon. A bit of a smirk is spread across his face, as he looks deep into the camera. He places a box of unknown items on the ground near the metal barrel.
 
Think about that for a few second. I will re-word it just in case you all are too dumb to undestand just exactly what I said. A man who has nothing to lose, is the most dangerous creation of any society.
 
Damon pauses for a few seconds, as he lets the quote fully sink in.
 
That relates so well with this upcoming match, doesn’t it? I have nothing to lose when walking into this match. NOTHING. TO. LOSE. I don’t care what happens in this match, but the one result that must happen is me walking out of New York with that Spartan Championship wrapped around my fucking waist. It’s going to happen, folks. It’s… INEVITABLE. Much like I said on Monday evening, I will gladly go through each and every single one of the other so-called “men” in this match until I am the only one left standing… standing above the rest like the fucking GOD that I am. It’s not something that any of you has to like. However, it is something that you all will have to come to terms with. It may be an enormous pill for you all to swallow, but… CHOKE THE FUCKER DOWN!
 
Arata… Asakura… Arata… Asakura… ya know, Arata, I was getting a tad bit worried that you wouldn’t show your face leading up to this blockbuster of an event. I was getting worried that you decided to haul ass to whatever cesspool you crawled out of with that belt in tact. Since you decided to open up your suck hole and let it spew out a bunch of bullshit, let me offer you one little piece of advice. When you say my name, Arata… when you talk about J.D. Damon… MAKE SURE YOU SAY MY NAME WITH SOME FUCKING RESPECT! I am not some bitch who is in his first year in this industry. I have spilled my blood, sweat, and tears for this industry for nearly TWENTY YEARS to help pave the way for inconsiderate pricks such as yourself. Inconsiderate pricks who do nothing but steal the limelight away from people who deserve it much more than they. You honestly think that Kenny Drake took me under his wing? You truly feel that I was nothing until Brother Kenny came back? Arata, listen to me and listen good… I was the one who made Kenny Drake into who he is. The Kenny Drake that you see today? The Kenny Drake that is a former World Champion? The Kenny Drake that is the most feared son of a bitch on ANY roster in the world? It was me who created that. So, please, do your fucking research before saying any more idiotic shit, eh?
 
Weak, Arata? WEAK?! You claim that I am not only the weakest member of Wolvesden, but also the weakest member of the Kingdom roster? I find that a tad bit funny. But, do you think that this was all apart of a grander plan, Arata? Think about it for a second. I return after Final Destination and make you and the rest of the sheep on the roster think that I have returned as nothing more than a shell of my former self. That I returned in an attempt to ride on the coat tails of my former glory. And then… when the time is just right… BOOM! I unleash it all. I just had to wait for the percise moment, my friend. And what better time to do that than when I FINALLY get my shot at your title. I see that you got pretty upset when I mentioned about when I win your precious title that it will add a few extra zeros to my paycheck. Why so mad, Arata? Isn’t that why we do what we do? Isn’t that what we all strive for in this industry? Fame… fortune… glory. To be immortalized. Sure, I love the business, but you would be a bold faced liar if you said that you didn’t appreciate the money that you get from wearing that piece of gold around your pathetic waist. Is that the only reason why I want to win that belt? Hell no. I want to bring some prestige back to that belt. I want to be the only person who can actually do something for that fucking belt. I mean, look at the list of people who have held that belt. Scotty Adams… Monolith… Jeff X… REGINALD DAMPSHAW. Sure, maybe some will call them greats or even legends within our industry, but I see through all of that shit, Arata. I see every single one of them for exactly what they are. HAS-BEENS. Much like you. All people who should have never held that title. People who should have been regulated to jerking the curtain. Arata, do us all a huge favor and step aside. Let me do what you could never do and that is be an actual champion.
 
Too irresponsible? Too irresponsible to take on the responsibility of being the Spartan Champion? What in the hell kind of shit are you on, Arata?! If anyone - ANYONE - is irresponsible, it’s you! What have you honestly done as champion? You have been given a few easy title defenses and that’s about it. Ride the coattails of Jeff X as a part of the Kingdom Frontline? That’s something you’ve done pretty fucking well!
 
You are nothing more than a fucking burden. A burden to the Kingdom roster. A burden to this company. A BURDEN to that championship. It makes me physically ill to watch you with that belt. It has been eating away at me for weeks now seeing you with that title. I have had my eyes set on that belt since my return. And I am going to absolutely LOVE ripping your “precious” away from you.
 
Damon pauses for several second to recollect his thoughts for a moment, before he continues…
 
Who else… who else is there. Right! The only other person to actually show some balls in this match. Ryo Sakazaki. I’m going to be one-hundred percent with you, bro, I didn’t think you would say a single word prior to all of this. You showed some guts. You showed some balls. Good for you. Good for you to also realize that I am the only threat that this match truly has. The other guys? Udy? Jacob Knight? Oliver Harpe? Nah, those guys are not threats. Not a threat to anyone. So I applaud you for realizing who you are fucking with, Ryo. You seem like you have some brains in that head of yours. I also see a lot of ignorance and stupidity inside of you, as well. Much like the other five in this match, you too wholeheartedly believe that you will be walking out of New York with the grand prize, don’t you? You honestly believe that this time next week you will be walking around withy some gold around your waist and your head held just a little bit higher, don’t you? That right there is where you fucked up, Ryo. I mean, it’s good to have dreams and aspirations. It’s good to have goals in life. Everyone needs goals in life. I mean, hell, Jacob Knight’s goals in life is to grow up to be a complete asshole just like Maverick. But, you see, I am going to love nothing more than to take all of your hopes. All of your dreams. Every single ounce of hope that you have in your body and CRUSH those motherfuckers. I don’t understand what you did to get into this match. I don’t know who in the hell you had to suck off to get in to this match, but here we are. I hope you can use this match, this… MASSACRE… as a lesson learned for you, Ryo. Peons such as yourself do not belong to hang with the big boys. It’s going to be a lesson that you will, unfortunately, to forced to learn the hard way.
 
Damon looks down at the ground below him at the box.
 
I’m sure you all are wondering just what exactly I am doing with all of these items.
 
He reaches down to open the box, and pulls out photos of each competitor in this match. Ryo Sakazaki. The Infernal Beast. Oliver Harpe. Jacob Knight. Theodor Pavel. And last, but certainly not least, our faithful champion Arata Asakura. He takes one last look at each photo before tossing them into the metal barrel in front of him. Damon picks up the gas cannister and pours all of the fluid inside of it.
 
You know, I am sick and fucking TIRED of all of these jackasses already. It has only been a week since this match has been announced, two others have spewed shit out of their mouths, and I am annoyed with them. Because even the four who have decided to stay quiet, feels the exact same way as Arata and Ryo. They all think that I am some dude who decided to come back for one last “hoorah,” but is just washed up. They all feel that I should just hang up the boots and call it a day. FUCK THEM. Fuck every single one of them. I am done standing here in front of everyone and defending myself. Defending my actions. Defending my PAST. I am done with it all. I am going to prove to them all just who they are fucking with…. the motherfucking KING of KINGDOM!
 
Damon takes out a pack of matches from his pocket, rips off a single match stick, and flicks it. The match lights up. He stares into the flame for a brief second before tossing it into the barrel containing photos of his opponents. The barrel errupts in a fantastic flame. The flame lights up the entire back area of the wrestling school. We can now see that standing all around Damon are dark figures, all wearing black balaclavas. Members of the Wolvesden collective.
 
Gentlemen, when I am done with all of you this weekend. When I have beaten… crippled… MURDERED you all, my Wolves here will come in and pick your bones. They will be the ones who will finish you off.
 
A sadistic grin creeps across his face, as he whispers…
 
…wolves… 


...aertenum...

“You give people a chance not to make fools of themselves, and what do they do? Run head first off a cliff like a pack of lemmings. I swear battle royals just bring out the idiot out of these assholes. I mean part of me knew better, that trying to be rational with them all was a waste of breath. “Oh Mark, what did You expect them to do?” You ask. At this point They could kiss my ass for all I care, as long as they started wising up to the fact that with the awakening watching my back, I don’t gotta play nice with corporate to get anything more than a crumb. With guys like Eon Blue and Noah Quinn, both of whom would make an excellent Television champion, along with the man who is gonna make Nas his personal bitch, Father Nathan Fiora, behind me, you can kiss the status quo bye bye. We are the enlightenment, the cold hard truth, the once and future Kings in this industry. We are the Awakening not just that myself, Eon, and Noah, and Nathan have been needing, but the sport of professional wrestling as whole. So right now Nathan, I want to take a moment to say thank you for asking me to be apart of the Awakening. Nathan you asked me to be a part of this awakening in OWA, to open the eyes of everyone around us and shake off the lies and false narratives that have stuck to guys like you and me. For you To silence all those chants five minute champ, for me to wash my hands of all that place that wanted did everything it could to keep me in lower midcard hell when even Stevie Wonder could see that I have more skill in my little pinky than the rest of that entire company combined. Thank you Nathan for the opportunity to share in slapping not just OWA, but the entire wrestling world out of their sweet little slumber, and open their eyes to reality where guys like you and me stand in our rightful place atop the OWA mountain. And while I have you’re attention Nathan, I know you want us to reach out and bring as many into the fold as possible, and I know that the best way to do that is to crush the dozen or so ants who’ll be in this battle royal, under my foot. And while I would have made sure to do so anyways, I’m gonna have a little extra motivation to do so, for all of us, for the Awakening. See this week has proven time that There isn’t one of these bastards who don’t deserve getting their ass handed to them by me. There isn’t a one who won’t jump at the chance to shoot their mouth off like a fool and talk shit about me, and by extension you as well. Each and every one of them is just like Finnegan and Nas. All of them thinking that they’re hot shit while turning a blind eye to just how full of shit they are, so much so that Each and every one of them need a goddamn enema. I can hardly wait to serve each of them a big ol’ piece of humble pie as I send them crashing to the arena floor. Because unlike the rest of the field I’m am neither complacent, nor a chicken shit. I’m not waiting to be handed an opportunity nor I’m not sitting back waiting to get the last word in like some OCD suffering son of a bitch. I’m boldly stating right here and now that if you don’t want to get run over by me, than you had better stay the fuck home. And for those of you who won’t smarten up and take the sound advice I’m laying here, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Don’t say I didn’t warn all of you gutless cowards who haven’t bothered to show an ounce of pride or self respect. The Revys, and Rebecca Brooks of the world who figured it was for the best that they just laid down and died. The Hana Hana Pajamas or whatever her name is, who are hiding till midnight to before they start, in whispered tones mind you, talking shit about me, because they know I would tear them to shreds on a mic the same as I will when the bell rings. To the Maelstroms, and Horrible Nighttimes, I say thank you, I bet the other guys in the Awakening that none of you would have the balls to even attempt uttering a syllable in defiance of me. And for that I’ll reward you all with the swiftest boot to the ass you’ve ever received. Since you all decided to do nothing this week besides get payed for being nothing more than human traffics cones, I’ll give you a small measure of mercy, and just eliminate you all. Consider yourselves fortunate that you won’t have to suffer the same punishment and humiliation that I am fixing to dish out to the fucks who mumbled their lame ass fan fiction fantasies about how they not only stood a chance in that ring against me, but that they might actually win. For them, the beating I’m gonna dish out can’t come soon enough, and every moment till the bell rings feels like an eternity.
You see I can’t wait to trounce a guy like Elijah Hampton. A man who must have zero floating around in that skull of his. Zero filter, zero brain cells, just a bit of air whistling around till he inevitably expels it whenever he utters that constant stream of horse shit that flows from his mouth. how the fuck can you go around bragging about beating a World Champion when A, you didn’t do so on your own. B, the championship wasn’t on the line, meaning the champ had fuck all reason to care about beating your bottom rung ass. And C, YOU DIDN’T EVEN PIN THE MOTHER FUCKER! Say what you will about me coming up short the last few weeks against the guys who are gonna be locked in the Thunderdome, at least I can say that I stood up on my own two feet and came inches away from beating every one of them. I can guarantee that says more about what kind of competitor I am. What’s more it goes above someone else getting the job done, and you getting a free win because of it. If the best you can do to keep your hype train, which looks more like a model railroad to me at this point, is run around hee-hawing like a jackass about someone else beat the world champion for you. What next? Are you gonna talk about how your dad won the claw machine and gave you that stuffed unicorn you wanted? Are you gonna yammer on about how your mom beat up your high school bully? Truth be told you’re most likely gonna brag how you helped me win when I toss your ass out of the ring.

But not to be outdone in being a pathetic jackass, we have the hanger on of hanger ons, the world’s most famous jobber, Shaker Jones himself riding in on the Can’t wrestle for shit express. At least it’s a better look than that wannabe warewolf gimmick you had the last time I saw you. Quick side note what is it with everyone having a wolf fetish? Is everyone so inept of original thought that they all collectively just said “ah fuck it We’ll all just call ourselves wolves.”, and here I was thinking twilight killed that gimmick dead. But You know I guess I owe you a small bit of thanks. See after damn near getting killed in the ring, and then being forced to wrestle you not even 6 days later whilst I was basically crippled, showed me just how little the suits could give a fuck about the guys in the ring. In some small way you ended up leading me to OWA. But on the other hand I haven’t forgotten that match, and it still pisses me right the fuck off that that you hold a win over me. Well that blemish is gonna get wiped up real quick come Atlantis. But before it does let me tell you something Shaker, I feel for you man. I know it must be hard traveling from town to town, losing night after night, and never getting any better from all those beatings. Hell its gotten so henious that I almost feel bad whenever someone bothers to point out how crappy you are in the ring, it’s like when someone picks on a special needs kid. Shaker you’re as relevant in wrestling as any of those bands you claim to be a fan of are to the billboard hot 100. You bring nothing to this sport, you bring nothing to OMEGA Wrestling Alliance, and absolutely nothing can stop me from stomping your skull into the mat, before I toss your lifeless body over the top and back into whatever hole you crawled out of.


Nikki, first off your whole crazy knife chick gimmick is the shits. The drizzling variety to be specific. Second If My tenure in EAW was so underwhelming than how would Kenny even be aware of me, because his chicken shit ass never once crossed my path. How would he know jack shut about how many times I was screwed over, and stymied by corporate over there? How would he know how despite them holding me down, I still fought and rose up and became a champion at their biggest event, and then held on to the fucking belt for four months despite all the bullshit they threw my way. Kenny like always is talking out his ass, So that’s I don’t need to spend the time I would use to train for this match sitting in front of a computer watching Wolvesden somehow carrying on from year to years despite the fact that people stopped giving a fuck about Wolvesden four years ago, and everyone who was dumb enough join in their ranks is ! I get it Nikki, it’s all Kenny has at this point in his, and you don’t want him back at home sitting on a couch, crying while downing whole bags off Milano cookies, but just because you married your pimp doesn’t make his little club any less irrelevant, same as it doesn’t make you any less of pawn for Kenny, and such a sacrificial one that I I really haven’t even needed to analyze or break down anything you do in the ring. All I’ve needed to do is look at how you have hitched your wagon to that sheep in wolves clothing. And since he didn’t even bother to fill you in on his time back in the shit hole, I won’t force you sit through years of Kenny trying and failing to make Wolvesden a thing over there. No, I’ll just tell you plainly how his punk ass stable fizzled out. he “retired” so he could get a pity pop from the crowd before becoming another stiff in a suit when he was the useless voltage general manager. Just how many guys he blew to get that job i’ll leave for you to guess. Then after having mismanaged Voltage, he ran to OWA where he could sell the same old Ponzi scheme bullshit to an entirely new crop of directionless dumb asses who he could keep under thumb because he’s a goddamn megalomaniac. Oh wait I almost forgot something, the thing that set of his need to run like a little bitch, is because he got his ass handed to him by that Solomon Caine fellow, you know the guy who’s more repetitive than Maelstrom. The guy who knew only 6 moves if you counted him flipping his hair. That unskilled bastard kicked Kenny’s ass at the height of his power. That Nikki, is the guy you screw every night. That is the man who’s abominable offspring you bore. That is pathetic jackass you’re following right all the way down the crapper. Well at least you’re committed to that sorry sack of shit so I guess you got that going for you right? Nikki, the fact that is that you’re a lackey for the biggest manure salesman in professional wrestling. For all your talents and all your skills, your weak because you can’t cope with the fact that your husband is a loser who has been peddling the same crappy stable for so long it’s become the biggest running joke I’ve seen in my whole life. Your weak because you don’t have the mental faculties to notice either that the ship has sunken so far down that you’re up to your neck and struggling to stay afloat. Just as you couldn’t tell not to fuck with a man who is fed up with being disrespected by inept assholes who aren’t even fit to lace my boots. So for the record Nikki, I am looking right into your eyes and telling you Wovlesden doesn’t fucking matter you dumb bitch! Because it always has, and always will be Just a group of empty headed fucks following a blind leader.

So to you Nikki, and all the rest of the scrubs who I’m stuck with dispatching in this we don’t have shit for you right now battle royal, I’m want you to enjoy your time in the big apple as best you can. Order some take out, take a picture or two of the city, lounge in bed. But don’t get your hopes up about winning. Even though this match means nothing, for me it is still a match to make a statement in. Hell this whole weekend is, and when it is looked back on as a whole that statement will say that The Awakening came, saw, and conquered here in New York, and to borrow a phrase, if we can make it here we’ll make it anywhere. This will be the week where me and my compatriots turned the world on it’s head, before we kicked it square in the balls. This is our time now, the Awoken revolution has already begun, and now we take things to the next level.”

Thine eyes have seen the glory of The Punisher, Your Lord
He tramples through the lands to waste for his rich and mighty hoard
He marches across the valley to let loose the wrath of his sword
Jacob Senn is marching on!


The Omega Wrestling Alliance… one of the many places in the wrestling industry I had helped not only pluck from obscurity from only being a simple idea, but created into one of the biggest names in the industry you could ever hope to become a part of and a bastion for those who wanted to forge their own legacies in this business. I sang the praises of this business unto the entire world and what did you have from that thanks to me? Over a year of true world champions, the greatest business boom for your company you could have ever hoped for, and all eyes placed right upon the promotion to make sure you were noticed. Quite frankly, I was the benevolent god that handed you the world on not just a silver platter, but a golden altar for you to take and mold into the image I had hoped you would have taken it with. Standing by my side, this entire industry had everything it could have ever hoped to attain with me as the Omega Heavyweight Champion. Standing by my side, your Final Destination event that was billed as the greatest event you could muster turned out to be just that with me leading the charge into the new era of wrestling with a proper world champion heading the helm into the future in my belief at the time and absence to come. Standing by my side, OWA was the face of an entire industry and at the peak of what could have been the greatest promotion, the world could have ever seen. This business had everything it could have ever wanted from this world when it was standing by my side through it all. I had hoped to leave this business with a bright smile upon my face gleaming with pride and all you had to do to keep things the way they needed to be was to hold your end of the bargain through what I had delivered to you. Just like Strong Style Wrestling, just like Wrestleworld, all you had to do was hold up your end of the bargain and do what you needed to do and yet, you couldn’t really do it, could you? Just like Wrestleworld wasn’t able to do it when I gave them everything and in turn spat in my face by having Arata Asakura be their chosen idol, just like Strong Style Wrestling has begun to decline and fail because they decided to move towards men like Noah Reigner or Kai Stevens, the Omega Wrestling Alliance collapsed under the weight and pressure to have to the greatest men and women represent the business as world champion by instead letting men like Bull Connors and Gareth Cason run this business through the mud at its own expense. I don’t blame Bull or Gareth for taking what was delivered to them and running with it because the truth is anyone in that position would have done the same, but the people and the thing I blame is none other than OWA itself. You took everything I handed and delivered to you through my reign as Omega Heavyweight Champion, everything I had put my body in this business and life through outside of this business, and you spat in my face when you decided to let those two scourges of society lay claim to a championship they didn’t even deserve to touch with their sleazy fingers. When I came back into this business to accept the induction into the OWA Hall of Fame, the dream I had hoped to see of a thriving and bustling business turned into disgust for the monstrosity I had born witness to as I saw that this place wasn’t the pinnacle of professional wrestling I did everything to make sure it was. No, I was left to witness an abject failure of promotion right before my very eyes to be inducted into a place of honor. Honored to be in a Hall of Fame for this? I was disgusted by it to the point of being sick to my stomach to even have someone call me that. Along with all the other issues and disrespect I have been left to deal with outside of here, it made it certain to me that I needed to return to this business not to become the salvation in needed to thrive, but to be the man to slay this beast I helped to create and allow this industry to begin again.

Did anyone ever realize how difficult it was for me to endure all of this while attempting to be the man of benevolence and charity to the next generation who had no respect or gratitude for it all? Does anyone actually take into consideration what I’ve put my body through, what I’ve put my life through, what I’ve done over a decade in this sport? No, they take it all for granted through the entire time I’ve been in this business. The land of elite took it for granted and squeezed as much out of me as possible, OWA took it for granted and when my time came they patted me on the back and sent me off, SSW and Wrestleworld have taken me for granted in deciding to place their faith in others instead of the one they should have placed it within, and they took advantage of me for the last time. I did all of this and I didn’t come out to interrupt or push myself into the front of the line because whether you want to believe me or not, I wanted what was best for this industry from the moment I laced up a pair of boots back in 2008. I wanted the best and greatest of times for the business for everyone to thrive and to prop up the next generation of talent to be placed into the forefront of tomorrow. I tried with every fiber of my being not to transform into the guy who ends the careers of those with promising futures before they can even begin, the monster who would shatter dreams that have been sought after since birth for those who have worked their way up to this point, and the man who injures people to a state of a broken husk with a blatant disregard to anyone or what people think about him. I did everything I could to keep that beast shackled and locked behind a forbidden gate for no one to cross, put on a suit and tie to be able to be happy with what has been born from what I have given to this industry, and be proud of my labors. I tried to be a creator for this business and put all of that behind me, and then a guy like Arata Asakura comes along and ruins everything I have worked for. People like Bull Connors and Gareth Cason trample upon everything I worked my fingers to the bone to create for not just myself, but for everyone involved from the wrestlers themselves to the fans who attend or watch from home. Management from these promotions doesn’t care about this and decides to spit in my face with disrespect to the point where I am done trying to keep this under lock and key any longer. I’m no longer keeping this enraged beast who has sat behind the caged door, looking through the spaces of the bars keeping it at bay to witness the lack of respect towards a man who has given every single thing to them, and I have decided to unleash it by removing the bonds that bind it within. I’m not here to create a landscape where the next Jacob Senn can be born and the legacy of the future of this business can be born because the future has already proven to not be worth the investment of my blood, sweat, and tears which have been shed. The future has shown that the blueprint I have been the architect of in establishing the foundation of perfection within this business should not be given unto them. The proverbial torch everyone speaks upon to be passed down from generation after generation shouldn’t be passed down to these people and should instead be kept in my hands until I decide to snuff out the flame of progress on my own accord. The future within the hands of these degenerates would leave this industry in nothing but complete ruin and if that is the fate for this business, I’ll do it by my hand instead of theirs.

The fact is I respect nobody in this business any longer, including those who have been placed into this Thunderdome match for the Omega Heavyweight Championship. The Phantom Troupe may be the last safe haven of true professionals left in this sport and Darkane may be in this match, but I have no qualms in doing what needs to be done in taking him out at the first given opportunity to reclaim the tarnished trophy that hangs in the balance as a prize in this barbaric match. Derelict, Keelan, Cage, Fiora or Nas depending on their match, these men are going to be to the physical representation of the Omega Wrestling Alliance in this match to victimize and decimate to bring forth the aura of desolation I hope to leave this business with at the end of the day as I lay claim to the trophy I should have never let sour as it has. All four of you have created the perfect maelstrom of chaos to unleash the deity before you that has become known as brutality and vengeance incarnate. You may not have realized it through your actions, you may have known it and didn’t have the fear to stop yourself from doing such a thing, but you unlocked the forbidden gate to release the conqueror of the entire wrestling landscape you know today. Every single one of you in your own special way has brought upon the wrath of a true divine entity with the confines of this structure. Derelict, the current holder of the trophy I made so famous and prestigious, tempted fate through his apparent lack of fear through his inflection of my current standing in this match as some sort of ancient relic of the past. I don’t intend to trade too many barbs with a man who represents nothing more than the pure filth of the world, the underbelly of society that needs to be scraped off of my boot, but know that you’re about to have a true taste of immortality as the blood of a dreg like you flows onto the canvas. Just like Bull Connors and Gareth Cason, you disgrace the prestige and honor of the championship I made into the valuable artifact people desire and covet around here and I will not allow that to continue if there is anything I can do about it. Keelan is certainly a cornerstone of the OWA foundation around here and was witness to the carnage I can create upon the body in our previous encounter, but for this Thunderdome match? What Keelan went through in our match on Olympus will pale in comparison as I intend to bring forth the kind of destruction that can only be described as inhumane to the eyes of the beholder. Nate Cage will learn that I don’t intend to underestimate him as I did on Olympus, but that his time as being known as The Devil of this promotion is nothing but a mere fluke to what I have in store for OWA. The fact remains that it’s not that I buy into this Keyser Söze as my partner would put it to where the greatest trick The Devil pulled was that he does not exist, but it’s that you’re a charlatan staring at the entity himself in the eyes proclaiming yourself to be him in the name of blasphemy. Nathan Fiora has taunted and goaded me because he finds me to be a man who not only allowed this travesty and mockery of the labors I put in with the recent string of world champions, but he is another person who points me out to be an ancient relic of the past not worth the value that I have proven time and time again to have. Fiora can preach this message all he wants, let the world listen upon the shameful words he has spout since he has been awoken into this state through the suffering he endured at the hands of Stark, but his message is of weakness and this will be shown as he is revealed for the weak simp that he has been known for through his embarrassing career of the years. Finally, you have probably the most familiar with me out of any participant in this match and the one who I also place the blame onto their shoulders for the way this business has been left without me within it after I had high hopes of this being the true pinnacle of professional wrestling upon my departure, Nasir Moore.

Unlike the rest of the men in this match or even in this company, I have decided you might actually deserve the candor and honesty I have for you, Nas. After all, we had put our issues behind us and you inducted me into the Hall of Fame around here as such a prestigious honor in your eyes, but you already heard what I had to say about it, and here’s the real truth of the matter. Out of all the people to be actual representatives of the current state of the Omega Wrestling Alliance and sacrifices to be created inside of this Thunderdome match, you are the biggest offender of them all. You were the first Omega Heavyweight Champion and set the stage, you were the man who could have put a stop to all of these disgraces of champions created from this point, and what did you do? Go in a war with Scott Oasis? Sit in the back with Tarah Nova and enjoy a moment of lover’s bliss? The truth is, you did nothing after I left this business within your hands among others to make sure the greatest of the promotion rose above the rest of the pack, and it tarnished the very same championship you were the first to hold. I’m not just disgusted at what OWA has become in my absence, but I’m revolted at what you became after our match at Final Destination and that’s why I hope you defeat Nathan Fiora in your first match where I can revel in the unforgiving punishment to be inflicted upon you among the rest of the men set to meet the end of their hopes and dreams. Let me make this as clear as possible for everyone involved in this match where there will be no confusion left for anyone to have. For those of you smart enough to have fear for what is to come, you’ll be the first to fall in this temple of carnage. For those of you who will say they don’t possess that fear, I’ll make sure to instill it within you inside of this figurative Green Mile. Ride the lightning and let it course throughout your veins and muscles to lock and tense where I can take the advantage to provide deliverance in the form of breaking your body to the point of no return. Reclaiming the Omega Heavyweight Championship among other championships to restore them to the proper prestige they deserve and bring forth a future for this company worth having before reducing it to smoldering ashes, this is my new purpose and reason for returning as part of The Phantom Troupe. This is what I have been sent to accomplish and bring forth the winds of change as a harbinger for the finale it is worthy of, but this leaves only one question left to be answered. Are you ready to cross the threshold into the valley of violence to serve as your final resting place? Are you ready to rest and bring a close to this chapter in what you probably thought would last longer Derelict? Are you ready to bring those aspirations of being a world champion to a close Cage and Fiora? Are you ready to rest on the laurels of the past you once had and be forced to watch the destruction of the desolate wasteland of filth OWA has become because of you, Keelan and Nas? If you’re not, better be prepared for this eventuality because The Phantom Troupe will bring this vision of the Omega Wrestling Alliance to life one way or another because the final truth I have to share is this.

This is not just the end of a championship reign or the opportunity to lay claim to a championship, but these are your last rites.

The Athena’s cup trophy is shown first, glistening in the dark, followed by the camera expanding to reveal it on a fireplace mantle that a camera facing Jonetta Stone is sitting in front of. Her room is covered with trophies, not only high school and college wrestling and hockey ones, but also hunted animal ones like it was a taxidermy exhibit. Jonetta nuzzles up with a fancy fur cowl on her neck and smiles.

Ah, we’re almost getting to that time of year where you can naturally enjoy dressing up in all furs and cuddling up before a warm fire without the summer heat getting in the way of things. Yes, soon my favourite time of year, with temperature much more suitable to my sensibilities than the last time I’ve had to wrestle at Boiling Point. After forcing me to perform in Mexico, I thank this company for finally seeing I am a talent that ought to be accommodated and giving me an unexpected vacation from having to wrestle, it must be some sort of Athena Cup tradition.

Oh, how much has OWA changed since then?

Azumi’s putting her career on the line, a shame, she’s one of the only people I don’t absolutely hate on this roster, if only she’d show her fangs more often like when she helped me decimate Havoc and Bishop….she wouldn’t be in such a situation, I hope a little huntress I know doesn’t end up like her.

A bunch of “legends” have returned all over the place and everyone was all warm and fuzzy over us having Odyssey 50. Like I said in the opener, gross, no big deal.

And apparently, Odyssey third-stringer, Devi Krysis, has become some sort of internet sensation on Atlantis, proving my presence on Odyssey is the only thing keeping it as the home for legitimate wrestling in OWA. On that subject, has “Appalachian” become one of the new buzzwords in the company? Is Ms Harper also a practitioner of this “Appalachian strong style”? Have they invited her to join and be a little bumpkin for Jeff X?

I would hope not, I really want to talk shop with Ms Harper. There’s potential there, behind the whole “one of the boys” mess of a persona she radiates. She could be my local expert, tell me of the delicacies and best spots to hunt up in the mountains of West Virginia. I could expand her universe, has she ever been to Zimbabwe? Has she ever worn or even held real ivory? I’m not talking elk, I’m talking the rare stuff, the type you’re not supposed to have. I have the right connections for some real fun! And let’s be honest, poachers are just hunters with better financial planning, a fancy for a good time, and maybe a dose of not caring for rules and little bitty stuff like borders. We could have such a good girl talk about it all! As long as she doesn’t let her ignorance and emotional nature get to her, but oh wait……...right, she already has.

Jonetta lets go of the fur and her face becomes more serious.

Seriously, Harper? You’re all this bent out of shape and putting your hands on me just because I told you the truth? I didn’t think someone like you would be such a snowflake. Talk about not reading a book by its cover. All these repeated attacks, all because I gave you a bit of criticism and good old fashioned ribbing? You were moping around in the locker room, so I accurately called you out for being a loser, made you understand your mediocrity, and you decide to make me your enemy and to this day you still give in to your rage? It’s unbecoming of you, people who hunt like you and I know to remain calm and calculating at all times, it’s sad to see you in this state. I want to like you, Harper. Even your last name is that of Prime Ministers when it comes to up there in my home of Canada.

You even do a nice paint job on your face sometimes, it’s a nice look. Makes you look imposing, probably gives you a self mental edge, and a tribute to past traditions in the hunting game, I respect it.

Sometimes your hair could have some work….but you just weren’t taught to properly make yourself presentable. It’s okay! I can teach you, just like I’ll be teaching you some manners.

I get it, you don’t want to listen to me because I’m not from the mountains and I’m blonde, so all the tales you’ve heard tell you that must mean I’m some social climber, I must be “loose” as you say. I could go on about who is more likely to be getting tossed around between a busy elite versus a commoner who has drunken stupors hanging out with the boys all the time, but I’m just not interested in idle gossiping. In truth, take our social divides away, and you all wouldn’t be so different. You and I, we’re built differently than most of the girls in the back. Look at them, half of them we could snap in two like uncooked spaghetti. We’re genetically bigger, and we’ve trained our bodies since a young age as athletes. We’re not squeamish, we know what it’s like to take life and we know the natural conditioning of all living things is to hunt or be hunted. You shouldn’t be harassing me with your emotional drivel, you should have taken what I said to heart before it became too late for you. Look at you, telling me to go talk to an opponent that defeated you. First off, how dare you? I will never seek counsel from that cur, Alyssa Grace, for anything, and the rest of those cretins you mentioned aren’t even worth my notice. Please refrain from sullying my mind with the names of creatures that I do not wish to cross my mind. You might as well ask me to speak to rodents about how to kill a wolf, even if mice could speak our language we would not deign to ask them how mighty our chosen prey is. Where’s your dignity? What’s next, you’ll ask me to go your highschool reunion with you and ask the girl that made you leave with silver how tough you were when she outwrestled you? After I was runner up in Clash of the Titans, do you think I ran around telling people to ask Diantha how tough it was to eliminate me? When Dulce Torres denied me from capturing Goddess Championship gold, do you think I told people to ask Dulce? Let alone when Diantha Rosso once again thwarted me by winning the Promethean Chamber???? NO! I licked my wounds, I destroyed every woman on this roster put in front me, and I made Dulce’s life a living hell until I was the one who not only cost her the world title, but also beat her in the middle of that ring! And one day, I will also get my revenge on Diantha too. And the ONLY thing I’d ever tell you to ask Diantha is where on my wall does she want me to hang her head!

What makes you think you’re ready to hold this cup? What does some punk greenhorn on Odyssey know about THIS!?? I grow tired of people underestimating it, this cup should be something spoken in the same vein as the Ascension to the Heaven’s Briefcase! It’s that kind of wish granter, that kind of heavy cross to bear! Eris who wielded it spent seemingly forever afraid to use it, and once she did successfully her psyche was broken by the fans and the locker room who oh so deeply despised her for it, such heat from this cup is why she isn’t here today! And me? I had to battle through two whole tournaments for it! That’s right, I had lost on my first attempt to win this, but the second time I was hungrier and wiser! I know a thing or two about growing up winning all the time, only to be haunted by something that defied the norm, I spent seemingly countless months floundering on Odyssey after I failed in that first tournament and it’s time I’ll never get back because I was eaten up over the fact that I couldn’t bounce back from that one elimination, when chasing this prize! Now you think you can roll on up to me, hit me with a few Backwoods Boogies and Buckshot Headbutts for a few weeks and that makes it so you’re capable of taking what had taken me so long to obtain??!!! I suggest you be very careful, Harper, there’s just so far your impudence can go before you get hurt. I haven’t decided if you’re someone I think could become something great on this roster or if I think you’re just a dollar brand version of me that should have stayed in the mountains away from civilized society. There’s a body count of women that would fill up your pickup truck that I’ve collected for doing less, the only reason you’re still walking around with such a spring in your step is because I haven’t chosen to have your leg be caught in a bear trap on the terrain you carelessly walk upon, yet.

You talk about traps, but between you and I, I’m the only one who actually has any bait around here. I have what makes people leap out and try to feed their hungry bellies. That is this gold prize. Only someone like you and I could understand how much of a multi-faceted tool this is, it is both lure for fools and a sniper to be used to take out any champion you want, there’s nothing else like on Odyssey. I’m surprised at how easy it has been to get to you, you seem too comfortable and sure of yourself because I have given you all this time to feel safe. But shouldn’t you have known that’s when you should have been more careful than ever? We don’t set up traps around fire and brimstone, Harper, we don’t ring bells to tell prey they’re in the presence of danger, no we camouflage. That’s why you’ve gotten away with attacking me so often, up until now where it’s too late for you to back out and you’re firmly where I want you to be. You’re in my sights, and I will teach you this lesson this one and only time! I won’t let you suffer long, where you aimlessly wander through Odyssey without knowing what you’re doing wrong for months like I did, not unless you refuse to learn from your senior in the way of the hunt. With me, with what I’m about to put you through, you should quickly begin to understand just how terrible Odyssey can truly be and what your future will be if you don’t change up your whole game plan. You’ve got a strong foundation, sturdy legs and broad shoulders, I hope you recover from being treated like a twig for the first time, by another woman who’s just stronger and more proficient at tearing the body apart than you are. Nothing is harder than that thick skull of yours, so I hope you don’t get too shellshocked by someone bouncing your skull like a basketball when your in there with a woman who tends to treat people like their less than human in that ring. Honey, I’m mean. I’ve been relatively nice to you so far, but everyone else would tell you from experience that the last many weeks have been a rare streak of mercy from me. You’ve taken for granted that your safety all this time has been because I meant you no harm, but you’re about to see what I’m like when I decide to flip the switch.

I make demons bleed and make screaming banshees have their jaws wired shut in silence. Havoc, Llorona, and EVERY personality that takes up the vessel of Morrighan McDonell, all have been left in the wreckage that manifests with my fury. In comparison, at this very moment, as you are, your existence is a very fragile one. Right now, when you think you’re so close to reaching the promised land by taking MY cup, I am going to take it all away from you. I’ll bring you to the brink of true despair, like a corrupt pastor in rebaptism that might let an evil soul almost drown before lifting their head out from the water, so they know god was in reach. I will beat you within in an inch of your life, and you’ll realize that you ought to thank me for it.

Because if I ever have to wrestle you in that ring a second time, I will not show you such kindness and warmth again, because my true nature is ice cold.

Jonetta glares to allow Gwen Harper to see into her eyes, and then the camera goes to black.

Narrator: This is the story of a couple of big-time belt collectors framed by a washed-up mixed martial artist turned detective. They find themselves surrounded by several factions of cartoon villains who forced these ladies into a corner. With nothing but a bag of endorsement money, a BMW i8 leased on good credit (thank you ‘Ria), and each other to their name. Not always the best of friends, these two are prone to fight each other to a draw then to beat the odds they’re now facing. No sir, they’re sisters, queens of the ring. And when the going gets tough, I doubt anyone would want to beat against them. They’re-

LAKER AND THE NET

NET NET NET NEEEEEET

LAKER AND THE NET

NET NET NET NEEEEEET

LAKER AND THE NET

NET NET NET NEEEEEET

(As the theme continues to play a theme song is shown featuring the following characters:)

Aria Jaxon as Laker




Stephanie Matsuda as The Net



Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson as Mr. Oasis



Masayuki Suzuki as The Goose



Karl Urban as Detective Bishop



Robert Pattison as Christopher Havoc



Desus & Mero as The Grime Boys



Mark & Donny Whalberg as The Good Guys



(The scene transitions to the streets of New York City as the camera filter takes on a 70s aesthetic.)



Narrator: This week on Laker and The Net!

(A black BMW i8 Roadster pulls up to the curb. As the butterfly doors raised on both sides, our wildcard heroes Laker and The Net step out. A couple of passersby stare at the car, including this shifty-looking dude leaning against a street light.)

Shifty Dude: OoOOH WEE! That’s a bad looking mamma jamma! 

The Net: As bad as the day you’re gonna have if you go anywhere near it.

Shifty Dude: Aight, ma! I don’t want any jive!

Laker: Good. Stay in a child’s place.

(Laker and The Net make their way to a back alley where they walk up to a steel door guarded by some Gronk-ass looking dude. With no fear in their hearts, our heroes walk up to the guard.)

Laker: We’re here to see Mr. Oasis.

Guard: You have an appointment?

(Laker crosses her arms and tilts her head to the side)

Laker: I didn’t know that we needed one.

Guard: Then you’re not getting in.

Net: (glares) The fuck we ain’t! 

(Both women step up to this Gronk-ass dude, ready to throw hands! A few moments later, the guard’s phone rings. He answers it and looks up at the security camera. He nods, hangs up, and opens the door.)

Guard: He wants to see you two.

(Laker and The Net nod at each other and make their way inside what appears to be a restaurant kitchen. An armed gentleman with slicked-back gestures for them to follow him as they stroll through the kitchen into a large office. Sitting behind the desk is a large nordic-looking dude in a white dress shirt and bowtie. The girls walk up to the desk and fold their arms. The man who sat before them was none other than Mr. Oasis, Kingpin of the Northeast.)

Mr. Oasis: Hello ladies, I was expecting your arrival. Once word got out about the gold, I knew it was only a matter of time before we saw your presence. 

Laker: I guess we can get straight to the point then: where is it and who has it?

Mr. Oasis: According to my sources, The Grime Boys have it somewhere in The Bronx, possibly near Yankee Stadium. But be warned: you’re not the only seeking the gold. The Ashes and Shin Sekai are considering capturing it themselves...and then you have The Good Guys.

Net: The Good Guys. Tsk, figures.

Mr. Oasis: So you’re familiar with them?

Net: I did a few jobs with John Nobi back in the day. But, I heard of Teddy Whalberg. They’re a couple of straight shooters.

Laker: Which means they’re going to want to win the gold fair and square. We ain’t got time for that! It’s bad enough we’re going to have to deal with the Grime Boy’s flippy shit.

Net: It’s like that time in Chinatown...ugh, I don’t feel like fighting ‘divers’ today. 

Laker: Regardless, we want the gold sucka, and nothing is going to get between us. Do you have an address for these Grime Boys?

Mr. Oasis: Not yet, but I can point you to their favorite bodega.

Laker: Aight, bet. Let’s head out Net!

(As they head towards the door, Mr. Oasis stands up.)

Mr. Oasis: By the way, Detective Bishop is back in town.

Net: Aw, shit. He still wants Laker’s gold huh?

Mr. Oasis: And to make you pay for stabbing him in the neck.

Net: Ugh, can’t he like get over it or something? This is what happens when your job becomes your life.

Laker: Pretty much. Anyway, we have some belts to collect. Let’s pat those Grime Boys a visit.

(Net nods and they make their way back to their car and drive off. The scene soon shifts to A dark room where Christopher Havoc, leader of The Ashes is sitting before a statue of a dark god. As he loses himself in prayer, the door opens ajar with a shadowy figure standing in the doorway.)

Shadow Figure: They’re on the move, Master. We’ll intercept them when they find the gold.

(Havoc slowly opens his eyes, but continues to look into the abyss.)

Havoc: Send some men to The Bronx. 

(The figure nods and leaves the room. The next scene shows an Asian man dressed in a white suit surrounded by AZN gangstas. They were sitting inside an Asian fusion restaurant in Flushing, Queens. This was The Goose and his Shin Sekai organization. While The Goose and his cool-ass Asian gangstas sat around like a bunch of extras in a Cars, Guns, & Fights movie, one of his men walked up to the table.)

AZN Gangsta: Boss! We got word that the gold is in The Bronx!

(The Goose leans forward and adjusts his shades.)

The Goose: Well, daddy-daddy-do, let the boys come thru! Gather your best men! The Grome Boys are no joke! Also, I heard my sister’s favorite waifus Laker &The Net are back in town! I’d understand if you have the kill the thots, but if you can bring them back alive, I’d be forever grateful!

(The man nods and summons a squad of gangstas to leave with him. The next scene shows Laker & The Net pulling up in The Bronx near the projects. In the distance, Yankee Stadium can be seen. They turned their attention to a small bodega on the corner, where two questionably ethic dudes walk out of the store wearing acid wash jeans and wifebeaters.)

The Net: That’s them! The Grime Boys!

Laker: One of them is carrying a briefcase. I bet the gold is in there.

The Net: Brand new belts, here we come! Let’s get ‘em!

(TJ & Ty, the Grime Boys, spot Laker and The Net exiting their fly-ass vehicle with the suicide doors - uh I mean butterfly doors!)

TJ: Aw shit! It’s those two lesbian chicks from the west coast!

Ty: Nah, the Filipina chick is from Brooklyn, fam!

The Net: NI**GA I AIN’T FILIPINA!!!

TJ: Run homie!



(Laker & The Net chase down The Grime Boys in a badass montage throughout the projects to Eric B. & Rakim’s “I Ain’t No Joke”. While The Grime Boys are chased through a ghetto playground, a white Ferrari 550 Maranello pulls up on the sidewalk and out walks two white dudes who look alike but are not related by blood in this script O.O: John Nobi, and Teddy Whalberg, The Good Guys.)

John Nobi: We got here just in time! And not a minute past eight! XD

Teddy Whalberg: It’s that dastardly Laker & Net! They’re after The Grime Boys and the gold! We can’t let them have it! 

(As these caucasian cowboy vigilantes join the chase, Laker looks back and sees that they’re on their tail.)

Laker: Damn it! It’s that White Indonesian cat and that ni**ga from Boston!

The Net: I thought homie was from Charlotte!

Laker: Charlotte, Boston, same thing! If it ain’t NY or LA, I can’t tell the difference!

(The chase leads up to the rooftop of the projects where all three teams find themselves in a Mexican standoff. With each team at their wit’s in, they all pull guns on each other.)

TJ: Aw shit! Everyone is packing! Looks like we got ourselves a little SIT-U-A-TION on our hands!

Ty: Maaan we’re leaving with both the gold and the smoke!

The Net: Ni**ga we don’t want your weed! We want gold, sucka!

Teddy Whalberg: Wait...aren’t you Asian? Are you even allowed to say the n-word!?

Laker: (points gun) She’s Black too dumbass! It figures ni**gas from Boston don’t know anything!

Teddy Whalberg: I’M FROM CHARLOTTE!

Laker: SAME DIFFERENCE TEDDY RUXPIN!

Ty: What the hell is a Teddy Ruxpin!?

Everyone …

(Long moment of silence)

Laker: SOME OLD ASS DOLL! ENOUGH OF THIS! GIVE US THE GOLD GRIME BOYS AND NOBODY HAS TO GET HURT!

TJ: Ya’ll already have enough gold! Especially your partner! Don’t she have like five belts right now!?

The Net: You can never have enough, sweets!

John Nobi: How about we put down our firearms and discuss this like civilized people?

TJ/Ty/Laker/Net: NAH.

John Nobi: Alright, alright, I get it. You don’t like White Indonesians telling you what to do. But listen, this gold isn’t good to anybody if we shoot each other dead. So tell us, why do you two want the gold despite already having some of your own?

(Laker & the Net pause for a moment and decide to holster their guns and fortunately their rivals follow suit.)

Laker: We might have some gold of our own, but we can’t share it with one another.

The Net: Yeah, and yours was manufactured by The Omega Alliance. I never had any gold from them, which is funny because I’m supposed to be a major player inside The Alliance, but nobody treats me as such.

John Nobi: Explain.

(The Net sighs and turns to the audience as if she’s speaking to them.)

The Net: Over on Jaywalker’s island, I’m that bitch. Like I knocked some Karen off her throne and now I run the goddamn place! I won gold from this one place that the KKK held down but my mere presence has turned its face around. Like these cats are lawful good now or some shit. There was that one spot I where I was running their hardcore scene, and then there’s this Canadian spot where I’m aiming for the top spot. I have my own all-female yakuza in Japan! I’m a big deal everywhere else BUT within The Omega Alliance! Now my partner over there is living her best life as The Outlaw Queen. She’s held gold within The Alliance, but she and I never held any together! We’ve been ride or die since we were kids! But yet we’ve never shared any accolade with one another. Well, it’s about to be game over for the four of you over there, because Laker and I are gonna get our gold!

TJ: Wait! What makes your sob story better than ours!?

Laker: Do you guys even have a story?! Ya’ll dusty as hell!

Ty: Hey! We have dreams too!

The Net: Like what!?

Grime Boys: By becoming the flyest and highest tag team of all time!

(Both Laker, The Net, and The Good Guys collectively rolled their eyes.)

John Nobi: Is that all you care about...is doing drugs?

Grime Boys: There’s nothing wrong with lighting a spliff, bro!

The Net: There’s not, but drugs can have an impact on one’s performance. My partner and I are among the best and baddest on the face of this planet! We don’t need to get high! We just need to kick ass and take names!

TJ: But the gold is ours! What makes you two think you can even handle having the gold!

Laker: Oh we can handle it just fine! The only reason why you two were able to have it in your possession is that nobody worthy enough has stepped up to the plate! You keep fighting the same ni**gas over and over again! It’s always the same shit, different week! And then you have The Good Guys over there. Like...why were two even fighting Zaibatsu!? Why did they deserve the shot before anyone else? Because they were there. Right?

The Net: Yes, that has been the entire existence of this gold in The Alliance. If you and a buddy showed up, you got a shot. That’s all it took. My partner and I aim to change the meaning of those belts and make it the stuff of legend. Hell, the moment we set foot in this godforsaken town, everyone was talking about it. We’re the ones with the buzz and prestige. Nobody is going to think that we’re gonna play hot potato with the gold. And when kits in our possession, we’ll attract the most dangerous killers in the industry. We’ll make the scene exciting again. Grime Boys, you had your shot, and guess what? Nobody care about ya’ll ni**gas! We need to make those belts relevant again! I’m tired of seeing scrubs getting their shot! It’s time some real bitches took over!

TJ: Hmph, real bitches is right-

Laker: You tryna get smart with us?

Ty: What if we are?

(The Grime boys drew their guns again, followed by everyone else.)

John Nobi: Can’t we all just get along!?

Net: Nah! Because as much as you want there to be peace among men, you want the gold just like the rest of us. I might respect the hell out of you John Nobi, but there’s a part of you that’s pretty hypocritical! And that part of you was manipulated by that punk kid back on Jaywalker’s island! He made you go to his level because he knew where the kinks in your armor were. You might have been in a few movies, but your acting still sucks fam. As for your buddy there, what business does he have been in the game!? He’s got a goddamn family! 

Teddy Whalberg: So do you!

Net: Yeah, but that was formed during my career, not before. Who the hell gets a wife, kids, and decides to lay it all on the line again!? There are no guarantees in this industry but yet you wanna run with the wolves!? If your fighting is as irresponsible as your parenting, then you don’t deserve the gold. 

Teddy Whalberg: You know what!? I heard just enough from you-

TJ: OH SHIT! NINJAS!

(All three parties look around in shock as an army of Shin Sekai ninja jumps onto the roof from down below. Before our heroes could react, a dark cloud emerged in the sky right above the rooftop. A swirling portal opened and out came an army of shadow men, courtesy of The Ashes.)

Laker: Oh shit! SHADOW NI**AS!!

(As an all-out fight ensued, shots were fired, swords were swung, and punches were thrown. There were so many bodies on the roof that nobody could keep track of where they were. As the situation intensified, Ty looked and saw that the briefcase he had was missing.)

Ty: Yo somebody took the briefcase!

(The camera panned down and saw Laker and The Net climbing down the fire escape in a hurry, briefcase in hand. They shot whatever ninja or shadow man came their way until they reached the bottom. In the distance, an army of AZN gangstas started shooting at them.)

Net: SHIT! SHIIIIIIT! THIS WAY! 

(Our heroes raced through the playground, yelling at the little ghetto children to make a run for it. As everyone scattered from the playground, our heroes jumped into their fly ass BMW i8 with the suicide doo- I mean butterfly doors and drove off. After a brief car chase, our heroes managed a successful escape!)

Net: WOOOOO! NOW THAT’S HOW YOU DRIVE! WHENEVER YOU DRIVE SWEETS, THAT’S HOW YOU’RE GONNA DRIVE!

Laker: You know it! The gold is in our hands, girl!

Net: The way it should be! We didn’t need to shoot anybody down. We just needed to take the prize when the time was right.

Laker: Heh.

(As our heroes hit the Bruckner Expressway, they head north out of the Bronx, and effectively out of NYC as they head into the sunset with their theme music playing.)

Narrator: Will our girls be able to keep the gold in their hands!? Tune in next time on Laker and The Net!

GameOver Promo 2: Battered Contender Syndrome

(The camera opens up in a nearly empty room, save a circle of folding chairs and a table with a coffee maker and some cookies on it hugging the wall.  The sound of a door swinging open is heard off camera.  Shortly after, The Derelict appears standing in the center of the circle of chairs with Saul Abzu by his side.  Derelict glances down at Saul, Saul shrugs and heads toward the meekly catered table and begins pouring himself a paper cup of coffee as Derelict spins one of the chairs around and sits in it backward, resting his crossed forearms on the back of the chair as he awkwardly straddles the seat and takes in the empty circle.)

"Once upon a time, not that long ago...depending on what you consider a long time ago I s'pose...maybe a decade or two ago, I found myself quarantined off in a town before a great flood.  I was walking the roads in the pouring rain, watching a train of humanity rush past me on the sidewalk.  Coming from behind, like a barking sheep dog nipping at their heels and trying to wrangle them all into one place, came a cop car with it's cherries lit and it's loudspeaker blasting a cold and robotic looped message.  It said 'All of those without two story homes or a dry place to go are to walk to the nearby sporting arena.'  It made sense.  That arena had tiered seating, elevation, a retractable dome, and enough room for hundreds of thousands of people to sleep with enough personal space between them over night.  So I went.  I figured at the most I'd get a dry cot to sleep in and maybe even a free meal, and at the least I could avoid the oncoming storm and maybe nick a few essentials from the locals in attendance.  As I walked in and took a corner, I noticed no one hassling me.  In fact, I saw a lot of other street urchins had made the voyage to the big dome on the hill.  It was the damnedest thing watching them share space with people who'd otherwise turn their nose up at them, inhabit the same space as police officers that would stomp them down in the gutter, and even garner sympathy and care for the pets that traveled with them.  When I saw that I loosened up a bit, put my guard down for once, and had one of the best sleeps of my life.  Do you know why, Keelan? You should, because it shares the same answer to another question that you've rhetorically posed without even knowing it.  What's that other question, you may ask? Well, it's simple: Why has Keelan Callihan, a man with a tenured career with no championships or fans to show for it, constantly found himself in arenas packed filled with hundreds of thousands of fans?  How is it that this man with nothing to show for his false bravado but former friends and a locker room that doesn't give two shits about him one way or the other, who doesn't do favors for the front office or win big matches, somehow constantly on cards that break attendance records? The truth is a painful one that really puts a nail into the coffin of the one true accomplishment that you seem to cling to for not only dear life, but relevance.  Instead of calling out the elephant in the room with you, I'll finish my own story and let you apply it to yourself however you see fit.  The reason cops didn't immediately shoot the homeless on sight, or that the rich among us didn't request our immediate exile from the arena, and why a packed and huddled dome writhing with humanity in need didn't rise up against us and throw us out on the street was because they weren't there for us.  We weren't what drew them to those cushy arena seats.  We weren't a threat to any of them, or at least we weren't a bigger threat than the oncoming storm that they found waiting on their doorstep, ready to kick the front door in instead of knocking politely or beg from a respectable distance.  No, in that moment we were no different from them in that we were there because a bigger name on the marquee facilitated us with a reason to be there.  That's what you and I have in common, Keelan.  That's the answer to your question and mine.  We've both been in arenas packed to the rafters, and nobody cared that we were there.  Guess what? It's not an accomplishment to take up space.  Gold does matter because it says that I'm everything that you can only claim to be.  It's simple scientific method, cause and effect, hypothesis and result.  Someone posed the question of who was the biggest threat to OWA, they put in the research, went through a laundry list of subjects that they ran through rigorous paces that resulted in trial and error.  In doing so they hypothesized that I was the strongest among a pack of contenders, observed me put down their champion, and came to the conclusion that I was the most dominant man in OWA.  That's proven, the numbers have been crunched, and my reign with the OWA Heavyweight Championship turned the theory of my overwhelming dominance into a law.  Now all they're doing now is testing my durability by putting me in a cage with five other specimen whose data is inconclusive, and some of you are coming out the other end not only debunked, but proven to be straight up planted placebos in a control group.  I'm looking at you Keelan, and among all of the rest, you give off the biggest smack of desperation and irrelevance.  The biggest burden of proof lies on you because you make the biggest and most unfounded claims.  You're in the presence of men who've proven their worth, have titles to their names, and a reputation that puts butts in seats.  You? you're just another bum taking up space by swimming in our wake.  You don't have to be though, because just like in that dome where I found myself in a room full of strangers who weren't concerned with my existence one way or the other, you've found yourself locked in a cage with a pack of former champions looking to prove their mettle against myself and one another.  When that door closes, I realize that all of the accomplishments in the world melt away.  It doesn't matter who came to see us, what we've done up to that point, or who we've beaten to get where we are.  All that matters is who walks out in the end."

(Derelict uncrosses his arms and clasps the back of the chair and begins rocking awkwardly, as if riding the seat like a hobbyhorse as he dully looks down at the ground and continues to drone on, all while Saul props up against the wall, eating oreos and nursing his coffee.)

"I'm not looking to be providence for any of you.  I'm not the way, the light, or your truth.  I'm not here to treat sugar pills with the same respect that I'd give strychnine or arsenic.  I'm done worrying about our contradictory friend Mr. Callihan, who seems to think he's going to make an already homeless man a hobo by beating him.  Let's deal with a more potent poison for a moment, one that might not even make it into our trial group at Thunder Dome.  Padre Fiora seems to have a lot to say about his congregation, and his impact on their careers.  He claims to have led them to gold with his venomous doctrine, takes credit for all of their successes and none of their failures.  Padre, I never claimed you didn't recruit a following of talented men.  In fact, I think I've done more than infer that you're riding their coattails into this match.  Their titles, their accomplishments? they're not yours.  They earned them by being great fighters, and they would've won them with or without your stamp of approval on their reign.  I'm sure you think otherwise, and I'm sure you've convinced them otherwise as well.  After all, they're not the brightest bunch, something else I've pointed out, but they are great fighters and you are a smart man to compensate for your weakness by surrounding yourself with stronger men.  Now I could give a damn about their salvation or damnation.  In fact, I prefer them being under your thumb over being in the ring with them if we're going to be honest.  All you've done is place the stumbling block of your needs in front of two thoroughbred stallions who'd get further in life without you in their way, see more success without you putting blinders on their potential, and sink their teeth into the luscious fruits of their labor if you didn't have them chomping at the bit at a carrot on a stick that they're never going to reach called salvation.  This isn't a matter of good or bad, black of white, heaven or hell, this is a matter of leading two studs with so much to give into a barn with a cross on the door and turning them into geldings simply because it benefits you to take them out of the race and hitch them to your wagon.  Eon Blue and Noah Quinn should be fighting to be in this Thunder Dome with me, but instead they've found themselves castrated, impotent, and dragging the dead weight of a megalomaniac."

(Saul nods in agreement as he shoves another stack of oreos into his mouth and washes them down with the coffee.  Derelict watches him with a blank fascination momentarily, before turning back to the empty circle and continuing his lecture.)

"Speaking of inflated egos dragging down the card and taking the spots of young and hungry talents, you have to beat Nas to even get into this match.  Nas is a man who doesn't understand the difference between respect and fear.  See, I came at you with respect Nas.  I sung your praises, listed your accomplishments, even put you above the rest as the man who has more stake and reputation in this company than anyone else.  You're a smart man though, you understand that I only put you up on the pedestal to knock you down and drag your name through the dirt.  I'll give you this, you aren't as neurotic and insecure as the rest of the men in this match.  You're not like Keelan who sings a ballad of his greatness to anyone who'll listen, despite said ballad being an instrumental piece without any lyrics to croon.  You're not thumping the gospel like Padre Fiora, because you have a congregation to read off the chronicles of Nas for you without even having to crack the good book.  We stand in a church that has your name engraved on the foundation, because you were there to help lay it.  You don't say you have nothing to prove because you don't have to say it.  We know it.  You're not putting on makeup to cover a bruised ego, you're not trying to convince anyone that you fell when they already know no doorknob is shaped like a fist.  You're not overcompensating with a flamboyant ego or taking your frustrations out on others because someone did the same to you and made you the way you are today.  No, you're not in this match in some shallow attempt to show the world that everything's fine at home.  Above all else, you're here because you deserve to be here.  Now I can say all of that to you, give you your due, say you had your time in the sun, and that you're not worried about going home empty handed, where dinners coming from, or what will happen to you if there isn't food on your table.  You have a healthy and loving home life waiting for you, which is why I don't think turning you away will matter all that much to you.  Unlike Keelan, people will care about you no matter what happens in Thunder Dome.  Unlike Fiora, your congregation will still be strong after you've fallen from grace.  You have nothing to prove to yourself, to them, to the fans, or even to me.  You might think that's a good thing, but all it means is that nothing's at stake for you in this match.  You've found yourself with a one way ticket to an island of broken and misfit toys that can't leave without the irreparable damage done to them by the world, by the fans, or by others covered up with a big gold and leather band aid that'll hide their scars for another day.  Having nothing to prove makes you complacent.  Having nothing to lose means that you're going to.  Or maybe you will.  You feel like you can crack wise and make light of all of us because you've earned a place at the table to do just that.  A dandy lion can dominate any dire wolf, which is why I think you could make it past Fiora.  The problem lies in facing the pack of mutts and strays that follow his lead.  They're hungry, Nas.  Fiora's a blowhard and a loudmouth, but like any good cult leader he's starved his followers to the point of desperation.  They look at you and see a cheeseburger with legs, full of succulent exposure and an all beef patty of legitimacy that they wouldn't mind sinking their teeth into, and Fiora will let them so long as he gets the first and last bite.  I want you in this Thunder Dome, Nas.  I truly do.  I want you for the same reason Quinn and Blue are willing to jump you, which is the same reason every other competitor in this match wants you in that cage for the moment where they win my gold.  We're all looking to take you up on your claim of being a 'Starmaker', and that's truly why I don't think you'll even clear the threshold of Thunder Dome.  There's a target around my waist, Nas.  I've written your name on it just to entice you because I see a bigger target on your name.  They'll come for you just as hard as they're coming for me, because unlike the rest of us, pinning you to win means something with or without the gold.  As the man holding the gold, I'd love to change that but I don't think you're hungry enough to take a seat at our famished table.  You have too much good waiting for you and you alone at home.  If you do, I'll make sure you walk away without a morsel and do you the service of sending you back to your gainfully retired lifestyle without a tooth in your head to sink into the very food you've brought to the table.  I'm speaking in metaphors and people tend to hate that, so I'll do for you what I refuse to do for others and spell it out for you Nas: You shouldn't have come back.  There's nothing here left for you, so I'm going to send you back from whence you came and make sure you'll stay gone this time."

(In the background, Saul begins to pour himself another cup, only to find the pot empty.  Frustrated, he throws it across the room as the Derelict stares ahead nonplus, ignoring the rampaging little fat man as he rips the pack of oreos open to reveal empty sleeves within.  As Saul flips the table and starts stomping away at it's legs, Derelict calmly stares into the camera with his hands clasped in front of him.)

"As for the rest of our tight lipped and mysterious opponents looking to come into this match with a deity or an ally by their side, I say to you that I hope that neither forsakes you because you're going to need all of the help, support, and divine intervention that you can get.  Don't rest on your laurels and expect someone to do all of the work for you though, and don't be surprised when the devil on your shoulder leaves a dagger in your back.  You can all come into this match pretending that it's you against the world, but I've been in enough of these situations to understand that it's me versus all of you.  You'll compromise your own morals and stand shoulder to shoulder with enemies just to put me down, because you know you're not strong enough to do it alone.  Maybe that's why some of you are still voiceless, because you know from experience that the first to make a noise is met with five fingers to the face and another bruise that they have to explain to their suspicious family and peer groups.  I'll go ahead and take the weight off of your shoulders and tell you that they already suspect I'm going to beat you, and that you'll have a flimsy reason in your back pocket for why you were hurt, why you helped an enemy, and why you sat and watched idly as I abused others that you profess loyalty and familiarity toward.  They'll nod in hollow agreement as you explain how you're not the victim here, and hold you close as you cry on their shoulder and tell them through a cracked voice why you have to stay with me, and why things will be different the next time.  You'll tell them how I've changed, how I've lost that fire in my belly, how I don't threaten bodily harm toward you anymore.  You'll say all of this to them as the hair sticks to your face and your eyes refuse to make contact with theirs, and they'll have no choice but to watch the chain of violence continue against you because you're too afraid of stepping away and losing everyone's love because you look like the victim that you are.  For some of you, whether you like it or not, GameOver will be the final chapter in our relationship because some of you will muster enough courage to come into my house and fight back against your abuser.  You know that it's you or me, and a big part of you is ready to embrace the real possibility that it's going to be me walking alive.  I'm not though.  For me, failure is not an option.  For me, survival is a foregone conclusion.  For me, victory is inevitable.  You can hem, haw, huff, and cry about everything the world's done wrong to you, how the fans don't appreciate you, and how you deserve better than me, but at the end of the day I'm coming home to a table that the six of you have set for me, and if you plan on making it through the night there better be food on it when I get there."

(Derelict stands up and kicks his chair over with one strong hoof of his half-lifted leg.  This momentarily startles Saul, who shakes off his momentary shock and starts digging in his pocket.  Derelict turns to him and nods toward the door.  Still in search of something, Saul nods and begins patting himself down.  Finally his hands find what they were searching for as Derelict doubles back and gingerly guides Abzu toward the exit.)

Saul Abzu: How many title shots does a contender with two black eyes get? 

Derelict: I don't know Saul, how many title shots does a contender with two black eyes get?

(Saul breaks free of Derelict's gentle grasp, turns back, and throws a fire ball at the fell table on the ground.  It ignites almost immediately, causing the sprinklers to set off as the two men exit.)

Saul Abzu: None.  He's already gotten two.

(Derelict groans as Saul maniacally chuckles to himself.  The two exit just as a fire alarm begins to sound and the emergency flood lights flicker on.)

Nightfall has set in the small city of Canton in Ohio, the moon shines brightly along with the stars past the vast amount of clouds that fill the sky as we find ourselves on the porch of the vastly large penthouse overlooking the city, the lights within the penthouse are dimly lit but enough to view the whole house in it’s entirety. Standing on the balcony and leaning on the wooden decking’s railing is Maverick, dressed in his finest REISS black suit with an additional white and gold waistcoat and a black tie, as he looks out to the city skyline of bright lights as it begins to reflect off of the night sky.

“Death changes everything, time changes nothing.”

His grip on the wooden railing tightens, remembering back to what had happened at Kingdom and remembering how the match had ended. His teeth begin to grit against one another as he releases his grip of the wooden railing and takes a few steps back.

“What’s it like to have everything to win and nothing to lose? I’m sure there’s so much pressure on the line when the stakes that you’ve placed on yourself are high, and to be honest, it does two things to you. It helps you push yourself to make sure you win whatever glory or stake you’ve placed for yourself at the end but also, it places more pressure on you. It’ll get to your head and make sure that your journey to that stake is a lot tougher than before. I should- I would know about that because I’ve experienced it so many times.”

Maverick slowly shakes his head from side to side, continuing to remember much more, even going as far back as to Boiling Point. Remembering being dropped onto his head by a returning Kenny Drake after a hard-fought and gruelling match with J.D. Damon- remembering the pain that shot through his neck on that night in question. Maverick places his hand upon the back of his neck and gently rubs it as he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“I’ve heard a lot lately about how some people like to think I don’t really have a place at the top of the kingdom, and I don’t blame them for even thinking of such a thing. I’ve had my doubts about my place at the throne, I’ve had my doubts about where I stand right now and you know what- I still do. I still stand here before you and think to myself that maybe, just fucking maybe, I’m not the guy people really need to stand up for them. I’ve stood at the peak of the mountain for a while now, I’ve stood at the near top of that same mountain as well, I’ve made that very long climb up and even then- I still stand before you and think I am not the face of this company. Hell, not even a fucking company or a brand, a promotion or even a fucking network. Me? I know I’m none of that. Yeah, I was the future of this sport, I was the guy that every legend looked down in the hopes I can continue a legacy they all left behind for someone to pick up the pieces to. But does that make me good in any way shape or form? No, because I’m the one who’s got to walk in the same footsteps as the men and women before me that have walked the path I walk through now.”

He sighs as he lowers his head to look down at the wooden decking below his Balenciaga loafers.

“Maybe my shoes are too small to fit in the same footsteps as those who walked before me- I might have gotten way too big for my own boots.”

Maverick lifts his head back up and walks over to the edge of the railing, placing his hand behind his back and holding his left hand with his right.

“But you know what I am not? A quitter. I’m not someone that’ll back down from the toughest of challenges and even then, I’ll welcome any sort of challenger that wants to come my way. If they want to cross paths, then I welcome it. If they want to fuck around and find out what it’s like to mess with someone like me, I’ll make sure they get the full experience. But, of all people I expected to come and face me, I never expected someone quite like you. I’ve faced so many people, I’ve faced so many personalities. You name it and guess what… I’ve more than likely come across it. A man who claimed to be a god of greek mythology? A ghost of a man who hides in the shadows? A murderous “king” who killed for the crown? A mutant freak that escaped from Area 51? A fucking bear? Yeah, all of those I've faced in my time.

But I’ve never faced anyone quite like Kenny Drake.

The fucking madman of OWA, the insane bastard father of the Drake clan, the cult leader of Wolvesden. You’re very well known, Kenny, and I can see why. People cheer for you even when you’re a manipulative and disgraceful homicidal fuck. I’ve heard so much about you. How you’ve tried to kill so many people, how you’ve tried to bring misery onto people’s lives, how you’re this perfect father figure yet act so malicious and so chaotic. Oh, believe me, I’ve heard it all about how Kenny Drake did this and he did that and he might kill you if you cross him once. I was always warned when I came into OWA to never cross paths with The Wolf because he might shank you for the fun and thrill of it all. That’s what they kept telling me, Kenny. That’s what they kept on whispering into my ear every time I stared from afar at the man that was OWA World Champion.”

Maverick looks towards the camera that records him, a slight smile on his face as he does so.

“Don’t walk in front of the wolf, they said. He won’t be too slow to pounce and bite into my flesh, they kept telling me.”

Soon enough, that same smile fades away to that same serious demeanour we’ve all come to know well.

“See, Kenneth, I grew onto those words. Yes, I did choose to stay away from you - for the time being - but even I knew that it was only a matter of time before I could come face to face, toe to toe, head to head- with Father Drake. I knew that there would be an eventual meeting with you- but this? It brings me joy - in a way - that makes me think that you wanted this. You wanted a fight. You wanted me. I knew I was stepping on some toes when I had J.D. Damon in my hands, fully controlled and corrupted to my own image. I left that man for dead and nobody was there to save him, nobody was there for him to back up all of those claims. Kenneth, you let that man walk into my ring and you let himself be sacrificed for the greater good. That’s the man that supposedly started it all, started the namesake that you built to be the most talked-about stable in this company, and you let him get walked all over.

You, my friend, are pathetic.”

He tuts.

“Shameful for someone like you - someone I’d have thought would have been a true friend for Damon - to let it all happen, hide behind the ‘error’ shit that’s been plaguing the internet for days leading up to Boiling Point and walk in and do whatever the fuck you think you want to do because you are Kenny Drake. You can do whatever you want because everyone is fucking afraid of you. Everyone always tries to be on Kenny’s good side because that’s how terrifying he can get. See, people do tend to be afraid of those who vary in the deathmatch types and maybe those who’ve dabbled in the death part of the deathmatch but let me make this abundantly clear to you all.

Kenny Drake is half the man he once was. Kenny Drake is not the same man as before.

Of course, you’d all scoff in my direction and turn the blind eye- you’d all think I’d lose this fight and be sent to my own grave but take a look at the man yourself. The vast amount of times he’s been shown on Kingdom and what has he done? Sneak attacks. Show up to send some vague threat. Sneak attack some more. When I think about Kenny Drake, I don’t think of the man I’ve been seeing for the past couple of weeks, I think of the man I watched go for attempted murder with his opponents on live fucking television. I see the man that puts fear into his opponents with one glare. I see the man who was fucking dominant before having to choose his family over his title. If you ask me, Kenny Drake has gone fucking soft and you’re all afraid to admit it.

Because you’re not wanting to be on Kenneth’s bad side.”

Maverick sighs. He drops his head and begins to shake it some more, letting out another deep breath as he lifts his head back up to a vertical stance.

“There’s no more needing to lie.

Kenny Drake is a shell of the former man he once was. A pretender of what he should be. This Kenny Drake is a pariah. An outcast of what Wolvesden should be held as from a leader’s standpoint. Yet, this is the man you stand by. This is the man you wish to be friends with. You must be out of your fucking minds. Kenny Drake is washed up, Kenny Drake is nothing and has been nothing since his loss of the OWA World Championship to Moongoose, Kenny Drake is a joke. Speak to me, Kenneth, what happened to you? You were an ungodly-like figure that walked around the gold brand like he owned the place - whether he had gold or not - and made sure that everyone knew who you were. When people tried to stand up to you, they were quick to be sat back down and be devoured on the spot. Now? You just walk around - like a ghost of the past - and watch everything unfold. You’ve become something you were never meant to be like this is an awakening for you, but it’s not. If this was, I would have expected a different type of match for you to challenge me in but you picked something that even you are afraid of.”

There’s a slight smirk on the face of Maverick.

“A casket match. Grave Consequences.”

A chuckle comes from under his breath.

“Kenneth. It’s been well documented that you hate these types of matches, yet here you are trying to act tough, trying your best to make it look like you’ve not gone soft but even I could see through your bullshit, Kenneth, and it fucking reeks. How long are you going to keep this act up? You’re nothing without your true self and I know I need to make you fucking snap. I know I need to make you wake the fuck up. I will make sure I get the real Kenny fucking Drake at Game Over. I know the real Kenny Drake could easily put me in a coffin, send me right down to hell and make sure I’ll never come back. Because that’s the man that saw the devil and spat in his face, right? That’s what you said.

You didn’t do shit. The devil looked right into your soul and even you got fucking terrified of what you saw. You’re nothing like what you say you are, you’re no terrifying entity that sends chills down the spines of those who cross your path. It’s just about the time that someone finally fucking shuts you up and shows everyone exactly the type of man you are. You wanted me. You wanted me and it’s not for the sake of me being someone that wanted to put Wolvesden in the fucking earth- you wanted more.”

He sighs once again, looking out to the city as he reaches into his pocket and pulling out a small vape pen.

“There’s just one question I want to ask you and that’s why.”

Maverick takes a drag from the vape pen, exhaling the smoke from his mouth and into the air.

“Why would you want me? Why would you need to prove something to me? J.D. Damon had that opportunity to prove something to me and even then he failed, but you, on the other hand, want something more out of me and I can just tell from the look in your eyes. You’re coming for the man who stands as the heir to the throne. The former king looked to claim his seat once again and attempted to work his way up the mountain until he’s back at the very peak. I said before that you’re coming for me because I am the future that this company needs, and you know I’m not wrong, you’re just trying to prove a point that the old Kenny Drake never left and never changed. But you fucked up so badly. You seriously fucked up.

You let yourself get involved with someone that people have been looking up to as the next phase, the next era of OWA, and someone who is as dominant as anyone else. You’re competing with a workhorse that has been running roughshod through everyone and anyone that steps in my way. I see someone in my way, trying to act like a roadblock, and I kick their fucking head in. I kick the fucking shit out of them because they didn’t fucking learn. Take a look at the names, at the bodies I’ve left in my wake, and that’s not even including just OWA. Wrestleworld too. Strong Style Wrestling.

Every. Fucking. Company. Everything is the same, nothing ever changes the truth.”

He brings his fingers through his thick and soft hair, all the way until he rubs the back of his head and looks to the camera that records him.

“This isn’t all about Wolvesden and The Ashes of The Wake anymore. This has been taken at a more personal level. Because I am going to humiliate you in front of everyone. Your fans. Your friends. Your family. Your wife. Your kids. Your brothers and sisters. Their kids. Your parents. I’m going to bring shame onto you and to the Drake family name. I know you’ve been working your fucking ass off for this one match, this one night where it’s made or break for you, where you’ve got a whole lot to win and all of it to lose. I’ve everything to win and nothing to lose. Yeah, I can feel the pressure on me going into this but even then, I am fully confident that I am going to put you into that casket and bury you and Wolvesden for good. Remember- this is much more than Team A is better than Team B or Team B is better than Team A.

I’m the standard-bearer of this Kingdom. I am what people look to for an example of a fucking god to this brand. Kenneth, you’ve yet to see this and you think that Game Over is when I am finally put to rest. That’s what sells out tickets, that’s what makes people take a fucking seat and watch the show till the very end. I make them buy those tickets, I put them in those seats, I make them wait till the very end to find out what happened because they want to see what I can put on. For you? They just see the ghost roaming the halls, and I know that at Game Over, I’ll see a ghost again and like before- I’ll put him in a coffin and send him right back to hell.”

He grits his teeth again, placing his hands on the wooden railing in front of him.

“You want to be the king again, I know you do, but there have been some changes whilst you’ve been gone and there’s been one man who’s been dead set to be that man you want to be again. I am that man. I want to set the record straight. Game Over will be no different than Boiling Point, except for the bloodshed and the gore, but the result will always be the same as before. Wolvesden go down. Maverick goes up. I’m going to bury the remainder of what should have been finished with J.D. Damon and take one step closer to true immortality.

When it’s all said and done, this place will need a King that’ll lead and be dead set on their words, they’ll need someone that’ll actually stay true to being the king- and may God have mercy on their poor souls.

Because it’s not going to be you, Kenneth.”

Maverick turns his head to face the lens of the camera.

“It’s going to be me.”

Maverick smiles, from ear to ear, as he turns back to the penthouse and takes a few steps forward before stopping in his tracks and slowly looking over his shoulder before uttering the final line.

“Maverick... aeternum.”

The lights within the penthouse go dark, leaving everything in the dark as the scene comes to an end.

GAME OVER II: BELIEVE MY TRUTHS

My fate will not be decided by the words of an arrogant elite. My fate will not be decided by a lunatic with a thirst for blood and violence. Most importantly, my fate will not be decided by the fakest individual I’ve ever met in my life. 

The last person I’m talking about is none other than the man named The Nas. Oh, wait, no no, it’s Nasir Capitani. Oops, it’s Nasir Moore- or CM Nas. Nas. Yes, Nas, no matter how many times you change your name, you will still be the empty vessel you are today. How dare you attempt to mock my purpose and cause while you stand here lying to everyone who you “love” and “admire”? I put those quotations because you really don’t love anyone, Nas. You play a masquerade, pretending to love your wife, your kids, and these fans so you can feel better about the lack of a man you are. You tell these fans you love them, but you’re also the man who willingly leaves and returns when he feels like it. These are not your people and they do not accept you; if they truly wanted you, they would’ve chanted your name for the months you’ve disappeared. Let me ask you, Nas: Did anyone care when you left that one time? Or the other time? Oh, and that one other time? No. Everyone in this roster KNOWS that you are desperate to be in the spotlight and will undermine anyone who isn’t your protege. You say that you thought I was a “cool ass dude”, but I see the seething anger from your soul. You lie when you say this because if you want to call me a “Chode”, you are one of the biggest dicks I’ve met in my life. You bullied me every chance you could, trying to prop up your god complex every way you could. Sure, you made it to the world title scene since then and lead a brand to near obliteration, but you’re a nice guy, right? When you lost your world title, the desperation in your eyes was obvious and depressing for me to see. You let that world title define your relevance and it’s led you to a path of self-destruction and self-hatred. Since you lost your title, you’ve been trying to find a way to feel whole again. It’s not the fans you’re here for, it’s not even for your whore and brats, it’s because you need to feel as if you’re a god once again. I’m sorry to say Nas, but this isn’t 2017-2018 anymore. You’re washed up and you know this is absolutely true, but you keep walking against the current, hoping that you can pull off some sort of miracle. This isn’t the days of the Golden Mafia; we’re in a new age full of brilliant and beautiful minds trying to push the envelope even further. The truth of the matter is that you haven’t even tried to adapt, Nas; you can’t recognize that there are better talents than you who exist in this company. The only thing you can do now is sleep with your wife and hope she babies you for another world title shot. Yeah, you can’t get away from what happened on Olympus, Nas. Your wife went against your supposed narrative of not wanting to be given world title shots and you were incredibly happy about that. How can you call yourself an underdog and champion for the people when you’re convincing your wife to give you opportunity after opportunity behind the scenes? You are weak and spineless. How do YOU, out of all people, deserve a world title shot when you couldn’t even take the TV title? Huh? Give me some good reasoning for that. You haven’t proven yourself to anyone. You BELONG to the midcard. I’ve already won that title and while that reign didn’t go as well as I hoped it would, I will be referred to as a former TV Champion. You can call me an insufferable and grimy piece of garbage but I have found my way because of holy deliverance. I am the greatest thing to ever happen to this company as I am cleansing it of its tumors. I am no tumor, but I am the cure to all illness and sin that has plagued my poor people. You are one of the biggest tumors I’ve encountered Nas; you made this brand for your own self-satisfaction and left it in shambles, in the hands of failures like Gareth Cason and Bull Connors. To you, this was the future. I must ask you, where has your future gone? Oh, they’re just like their mentor. They’re utter failures who demand everything to be given to them so they can sail smoothly with no resistance. You all couldn’t predict a beast such as Derelict to come down to smite not only Gareth but Bull as well. Now, this brand is experiencing utter anarchy, leaving the talent in this brand to accept Derelict as their king, but the resistance is leading towards something more terrifying. Nas, look what you’ve done; we are at a power struggle that may lead towards the end of Olympus as we know it. This brand needs to be saved by yours truly because its own creator isn’t here to build a competitive roster. While Nas is living in his lie, trying to desperately prove himself as a non-loser, I am realizing my potential. It’s taken several years for me to get to this point, but I can say I’m better than Nas. I spent time reflecting on the sinful man that I was and was enlightened; I am the Messiah who will save others who were in my situation. Nas is a man who refuses change and lives in a time capsule, attempting to live his former glories that are now memories, slowly forgotten by time itself. I have to ask you, Nas: Where will you go once I defeat you? Imagine, losing to someone who you view as the scum of the earth. It makes sense you hate my cause because you are a sinner deep in the lake of fire, sinking but trying to take me with you. 

We are similar, Nas. You’re simply in denial. You hate me with all your heart, even when I wanted to be the better person and help you more than anything. All your hate was countered with love and yet you still call me a failure and lesser than you. That is enough of this. Nas, I’m going to humble you in a way where you will have to think about your future after this. I want to EMBARRASS you in front of this ring and prove to you why I’m not the same young mind from nearly five years ago. You are no longer the hungry talent you used to be; you’ve become comfortable and are expecting a quick win out of me. No, no, no. I have evolved and become a divine force that will shape this brand in my image. This is my prophecy to you and I know that you will fall to your knees and worship me as YOUR Messiah. Your brokenness will be fixed by force, Nas. I will fix you just as I am fixing Mark Michaels, Eon Blue, and Noah Quinn. I am everything you hate but I am also everything you need to feel satisfied with yourself. Your son, Brady, will learn who his true father is. He needs a better father figure in his life because you obviously don’t love him. You, as a horrible father, absolutely ignore his existence because you’re a selfish man. You use your son as a means to continue the narrative that you’re some sort of “good guy” that loves his family. I need Brady to come to his heavenly father so he’ll learn how to be better than his dad. This spirit of disappointment needs to leave this family! Don’t get me started on Maya either. I bet she’s just like her mother; a bitch, being brainwashed towards your purpose of self-gratification. If you don’t like what I’m saying, keep yelling! It is but the truth and I am the Messiah of the Masses; everyone will know what they are or they will not be saved. You call yourself a miracle worker but are no divine being, my son. You want to be an idol, but you are a cockroach who needs to be shown his place. Your end is closer than you think; soon your head will be stomped into a bloody mess and I hope this act alone will fix that malfunctioning brain of yours. I will make my will be known to the believers and non-believers; you are now but another sacrifice Nas. You could’ve been destined for greatness with me but you turned your back on me! Feel my wrath! Feel the greater good that these people will learn at Game Over. You may have stolen a victory from me on Olympus, but this victory will be made even sweeter when I beat you with the three count.

Now that this pest is settled with, let’s get down to business. My future lies ahead of me as I prophesize it; I am meant to be in the Thunderdome match after I beat Nas with ease. However, I am in for the greatest challenge I’ve faced yet when I face not just one man, but five other individuals. One of the most irrelevant men in this match has quickly become Keelan Callihan, a man who decided to be a huge hypocrite. Not only does he attempt to diss me for my awakening, as any typical critic would, but he’s obviously a man who doesn’t look in the mirror enough. You heard me, Keelan! You question my first world title match in 4 years, yet you’ve had several opportunities already, and guess what? I’m not the one who’s failed to capture the gold a million times, that is you, my son. I tried to be kind and push you towards being a better version of yourself but you decided to crucify me, taking your own path to damnation. It is a shame, but all my respect for you has disappeared, and now the only feeling I have is one of divine justice. You call me the least qualified man in this match but honestly, what are you even doing here? Everyone in this match is questioning your presence and while yes, they may be questioning me, I’ve been the center of attention of this show for the past month. The world is finally tuning into Olympus, seeing the change that I’ve promised to my disciples and everyone who is willing to hear my glorious message. Even when I was a sinner, I had one of the hottest feuds in this industry against that heathen Stark. People were talking about that “I Simp” match more than any Keelan Callihan match from the past year. Once the award shows come out in a few months, your name won’t be mentioned at all while my past, lesser sinful accomplishments will take center stage. Imagine how much better I am now that I’ve been awoken from my eternal slumber. I’ve shaken this brand, making it bow down and adapt to what I demand it to be. Also, if I’ve been checking the ratings, they’ve been doing quite well. Hmm, that definitely isn’t because of every piss break match, which suspiciously appears to happen during YOUR matches. Keelan this completely disproves everything you’ve said about me not being able to get people to watch this Olympus. I am creating the new generation right in front of you, but you also live in the past, embracing elitism over the new world order I’m about to introduce. I went toe to toe against Derelict and no matter what you say about my talent, I had him beat! If I was some nobody, I would’ve lost to him as quickly as Devi lost to Moongoose McQueen. I’m right at my league and Fizus! It feels great to be finally viewed as what I was always meant to be; one of the biggest names in this business. Bigger than Nas, bigger than Darkane, bigger than Cage, bigger than Derelict, bigger than Senn, and bigger than Callihan. I’ve beaten Nas AND you before, so I’m not sure what you’re talking about when you say I’d only beat you guys in my dreams. When I do make it to the Thunderdome, I will rub it in your sinful face. You like to say that I’m not as good as you, but in the matches we’ve had, I’ve always been able to keep up with you. Tell me, what does that say about you? Are you in denial about my talent or are you just that delusional? Doubt me just like everyone else is, but I tell this and hope you remember this moment: I will be the Omega Heavyweight Champion by the time the night is over. I’ve always been a step ahead of you Keelan, this time won’t be an exception to that rule. I’ve beaten many of the same men you’ve beaten before you ever could and now I get to show you why I was the better man from that hardcore title match from so many years ago. Your words have no meaning to me and I have to prophesize that you won’t be holding any world title soon. You used to be one of the biggest names this company had, but somehow, you’ve fallen out of relevance and are so desperately trying to hang onto your past. It’s not wrong to be proud of your past, but your present and future are the only ones you can change now. You may want to get your hands on me, but I will find a way to outsmart you, because Keelan, you’re a man who obviously reacts and doesn’t think. It happened back in that hardcore title match and it continues to happen. Your passion isn’t there, even if you want to pretend it does. Nobody believes in you, but the sadder part is that there were days where people did believe you’d be the next big thing. However, your time of opportunity is slowly fleeting away. You can brag about being a great wrestler, but if you don’t awaken yourself now, you’ll never be a great winner.

Another of these individuals has made it known to me that he won’t change his ways and no, this person isn’t Nas. This man is none other than that brute, Darkane. You say I have no place in a match such as the Thunderdome, but I must tell you that you are wrong. Who made you the judge of who becomes world title material? You are no gatekeeper and you have no authority over me or any other man on this show. You stand over me, judging me for my past when I have done that myself. I am higher than these Simp matches now and I’m too dignified to participate in such barbaric matches such as hardcore bouts. I have the means to accomplish my goals where I don’t have to get my hands too dirty. You see, my disciples are here for me as much as I am there for them. They are eternally grateful towards me and will help me in gaining my crown to rule over this show with an iron fist. This is what happens when the world accepts different mindsets; we get men like you Darkane. You are absolutely mad if you truly believe that you’ll defeat me with your caveman offense. I am a brilliant being and my intelligent plan will go as I have designed it. You mock my changes and say that I am lying to myself, but am I, Darkane? As you’ve said, I apparently belong to the lowest of the card, yet I am here, contending for a world title opportunity. What does that say about you? Does that also make you a joke like Jacob Nighttime? Isn’t it a hard pill to swallow that I am considered in the same ranks as you, Darkane? To think, a joke like me can elevate himself to another level when divine intervention drives its rearing head up this brand’s ass! Not just anyone can be considered a joke one month and then elevate himself to the highest level the next. You have to question what made this possible, Darkane. Don’t you think there was something...divine about it? I sure believe that. Accept me, Darkane. I am a different man than I was months ago. You may not believe it but the results speak for themselves. I have cemented myself as one of Olympus’ main eventers and I won’t be leaving this place any time soon. I will haunt you with my presence as much as I can because there isn’t any other better feeling than making a non-believer realize that they’ve been wrong this entire time. Your logic has holes, my son! Only you can come to that realization and if you want to keep your head in the sand, then you, by the same logic, are alike to Jacob Nighttime, Devi Krysis, and whatever other jobbers you can name off the top of your head. You are nothing but a low-life, homeless drunkard who dares question my plans for this beautiful world. I’ll say it one more time: YOU ARE NOTHING; A NOBODY WHO IS TOO DRUNK TO REALIZE HIS WRONGS. You will feel my wrath because believe me, a divine figure as myself can get his hands dirty. However, it will be in a more sophisticated way compared to your animalistic tendencies; I will put you out of your misery if I have to. You shouldn’t play around with the Messiah’s will because it will be one thing that bites you from behind. You believe my herd will face damnation, but no, listen when I tell you this. The only people who will face the consequences of hell are those who don’t accept my message and openly go against me. You are one of those men, Darkane, and just like the rebellious angels that are thrown from the heavens to the bone crackling pains of hell, you will be dealt with the highest punishment possible. Begone, sinner! Get out of my sight and get out of this earth for good. 

Speaking of homeless fools who don’t know any better, we get to the ultimate challenge for this match. Oh, Derelict, you make me laugh every single time a word comes out of your mouth. It is in your nature to fib and makes me look like I’m some sort of bad guy. What is wrong about seeking followers who have only benefitted from my association with them? My sons Eon Blue and Noah Quinn are now facing Finnegan Wakefield for the TV Title. These men are finally living up to their potential and showing the world why they should be the reason people tune into Olympus every two weeks. A month ago, many wouldn’t have imagined them being in such a high profile match. How am I negatively affecting them? I have given these two bright young men a platform to showcase their talents. They are the talk of the town and now are on the path towards greatness. Both men were tired of people like you telling them that they can’t make it in this business. I too was once in their shoes, constantly being screwed over by the man, or in this case, the woman. I let these awful things happen to me and believed I was helpless, but little did I know that I was chosen for greater things. They asked for the apocalypse and I’ve given it to both of them. Now they are living in the fruits of their labor, seeking to become more devoted to me each day that goes by. That is all I ask for. Who is the bad guy in this situation? Tell me, Derelict. Is it you or me? I didn’t force Chaos Elite or my newest son washed by my blood, Mark Michaels, to join me. They made that active decision for themselves and it makes you look bad by saying that I’m somehow manipulating them. Are they not adults who can make their own decisions or is that your elite complex speaking? Do you really believe that these men joined me because I pulled a gun behind their heads? They can leave at any time, yet they have stayed. Why? It’s because they know what I am aiming for is right. I am sick and tired of the establishment settling itself up and trying to knock down the whole roster while they cherry-pick the men who would best promote their messages. This is why Nas needs to learn that his wife handing him title is problematic; this is just as bad when she hands Nas sexual favors to make him feel better about himself. My followers aren’t idiots; they see this brand’s fallacies, which include you and every other man in this match. You doubt my abilities but you forget I was incredibly close to defeating you on Olympus this past week. Had Nas not gotten in my way, I would’ve had you just where I wanted you. If you really want to doubt me, go ahead. There will be no one saving you this time from my divine intervention. While you doubt I’m not as good, I’ll continue to pray for my abilities to be enhanced in time for my matches next weekend. I will not accept defeat and that outcome will not be tolerated! I will defeat you, you ugly oaf. You will know my name and I will force you to say it as I stomp your head in while you are down and out. I am not afraid of you. I will not lose. My word has been spoken; you will lose your Omega Heavyweight Title at Game Over. Expect nothing more or less than that. Your fate has been decided. 

I have worked so hard to get to this point. The world is clamoring for change and I know I can make it happen. I’m so tired of being viewed as some sort of joke; I’ve created my own journey to the top. While it has been incredibly unconventional, I’ve embraced my newly found faith and believe I can make it to the top. Back in 2016, when I made this goal as a young rookie, I never thought it would take me as long as it has to get another world title match. But thanks to my own will, I’ve made the opportunity appear and I’ve run with it. To every man who doesn’t believe me, I’ve pulled all sorts of miracles before. Those were before I knew I had such a calling, so my capabilities are only heightened at this moment in time. I will take every risk I can in order to win this title and bring the crown where it rightfully belongs. I’m going to prove everyone wrong and once they see me win the title, the look of shock will drive me to continue proving the non-believers wrong. Father Fiora is no liar; he has more truths than this world can ever give you. Don’t listen to the awful critics who only care about themselves. I am here for every man and woman who is searching for a revolution. We are just beginning, so I ask you to join me, worship my holy name, and take a stand against these corrupt individuals. Title shots have made them believe no one else belongs in their ranks, but we are proving them wrong every step of the way. This is my prophecy, believe my truths. Amen.

(Our scene takes us to the bustling city of New York as we go down the lively streets and focus on a local sushi bar. We peer inside the establishment and see that The Nice Guys have just got settled in, drawing plenty of attention from customers and service workers alike. Our camera follows the trail of excited whispers and sneaky photos all of the way to the back of the room. There, the duo sits at a table, purposely placed in a more closed off area of the location. Mac and Nobi have nothing but empty tables in their general vicinity besides a single old couple that’s eating a few feet across from them. As Nobi and Teddy Mac are enjoying their small talk, they’re kindly interrupted by their waiter.)

Waiter: Good afternoon, gentlemen! What would you two like to eat?

Nobi: I'll have a Superior Onigiri, Chawanmushi, and a Cola.

Old Man: Eh?! You're eating Sushi with Cola as your drink?!

Nobi: Yes Sir….

Old Lady: Hey, don't go picking around a fight! They're wrestlers!

Old Man: Ugh….fine, you’re right. I'm sorry, sir.

Nobi: It's fine.

Teddy Mac: I'll order a small…..

(Not knowing how to pronounce what he wants, he points to it on the menu.)

Teddy Mac: THAT! With Mineral Water as my drink. Thank you.

(The waiter writes their orders but Nobi says "hold on" to him. He turns his attention to Teddy Mac.)

Nobi: You sure you're only going to order a small nigiri?

Teddy Mac: Yes.

Nobi: Doesn't seem like you at all. You usually chow down just like I do --

Teddy Mac: Why push things with questioning? Let me eat what I want!

(Nobi sighs as he asks the waiter to write Teddy's order. The Waiter reads The Nice Guys' orders once again to make sure he got them correctly. Nobi nods affirmatively and thanks him as the waiter leaves/)

Nobi: ...Is this because of what GRiME said on Olympus?

Teddy Mac: Yes. It’s hard to have much of an appetite when I have the thought of GRiME running through my mind, making me sick to my stomach. I don’t know what in the world has happened to them these past few months. They were once a duo that was fun loving, laid back and care free. They were great guys with loads of talent who could light up a room and get you enjoying the action as much as they were enjoying themselves with their crazy antics. Wrestling is full of bullies, ego maniacs, and outright miserable people who make the sport worse for the rest of us, but GRiME…..they were a couple of the good ones. A bright, shining light in the industry. A team that was in it for the passion of the craft and the love of their brotherhood. They were a model tandem through and through. I’ve always said they had all the tools….buuuttt there was one thing working against them. One thing which I was too polite to throw out against them. They’ve got skills, yes, but they’re also young and still getting their feet wet. I’m not just talking about in the ring, I’m talking about in LIFE. They still have plenty of growing to do and it has shown in recent times. They haven’t worked out their burgeoning insecurities with themselves, they haven’t lived through hardship, they don’t know how to reflect and adapt to any struggle; they’re not there yet and as a father I understand. I suppose when you’re still a group of BOYS and you haven’t picked up the maturity that comes with getting some hair on your chest, then a few setbacks is enough to make you start letting loose. They were getting much more aggressive, far MEANER with each week they were made to wait on us dropping those tag team titles. 

(Teddy Mac pauses his speech with a laugh.)

Teddy Mac: …..Things weren’t going their way so they copped an attitude and started acting out; being all passive aggressive and stamping their feet to try and get some notoriety for themselves. They took to getting in front of these cameras and making complete embarrassments of themselves with their Xbox Live chatoom vocabulary in the hopes that it would make the wrestling gods cave in and let them have that ONE legitimate win out of their six month track record of defeat. As season three has progressed we’ve seen them:

Pull out lot of needless, uncreative cursing and grade school insults in their interviews

Do a lot of talk about how much they deserved things while not showing any evidence in their actions for why they should be so entitled!

And it wouldn’t be a typical temper tantrum from them without twenty, thirty minutes dedicated to discrediting people who either know more, or flat out are way more proven than them. Disrespecting their clearly better opponents and treating them like assholes as some sort of get back for simply doing their jobs; ie getting in that ring and beating GRiME like every Alpha whose had an Olympus contract in the past year.

Butthurt GRiME crying about us eating food and acting goofy out of the ring as if we didn’t soundly pin them at FD and have to practically hold their hands to get them the status they have now is the type of lack of self awareness that can’t be found in any television show or grade school. It’s about on par with my toddler calling me “poopy head” because I’m making her eat vegetables or not giving her that shiny new toy until she behaves. It’s exhausting to deal with. It’s hard to take seriously, and at the end of the day the little tot is going to have to realize that they’re in the wrong. In the moment that my kid acts defiant she just doesn’t know any better and she lashes out. I write it off when my kid acts rebellious because she still has many years ahead of her to learn and pick up better habits. What’s GRiME’s excuse? They should be allowed space to learn, but that space starts to lessen when you should be competent enough to lace up your boots. We have World Tag Team Champions with the emotional maturity of three year old girls. And the worst part is that for these fleeting couple of weeks, they think their destructive career choices are actually the right way. So now they get to act even more embarrassing and show how out of their element they are! Them winning the tag titles while not even pinning us was the closest thing to being justified in what they were doing. Now they’re firmly committed to puffing out their chests and yelling in our faces “SEE! WE WERE RIGHT! WE’RE BIG BOYS! WE DID IT BY OURSELVES, SEE!” too short sighted to even realize they’re only a few moments away from learning their lesson. What is the lesson you might ask? Well, it’s a lesson with about twenty five years worth of necessary information. 

It’s a lesson that their parents didn’t teach them before they went on their eighteen year trip for milk and cigarettes. It’s a lesson they missed out on after they dropped out of the tenth grade to listen to Odd Future and do the same tired kickflips in the WalMart parking lot all day - gotta get over Cindy rejecting you to the dance somehow. It’s a lesson that probably went in one ear and out the other while they were blowing trees before gym meetings and ignoring their wrestling trainer’s knowledge like they already knew they were doing because they’re “like….so son-of-a-bitchin’ good!”..... It’s the HUGE, IMPORTANT lesson that would have given them enough common sense to know not to speak on another, much stronger, much more hardened, and much SICKER MAN and his wife! I’m going to be the oh so harsh discipline that should have been used by every mentor they’ve ever crossed! I’m going to be the guy who gets to teach GRiME the fundamentals, and I’ll be using a heavy hand with my approach when I beat their ass from pillar to post! They’ve run away from home and they’re feeling like big shots, but they’ll be humbled in their rooms, back to figuring out the drawing board soon enough. 

(Teddy Mac bangs his fist on the table.)

Teddy Mac: Just...God. The audacity of those bird chested punks to talk about my family! I get it, my daughters match them in height so they’re punching their weight class in that regard, but to make a snide comment on my WIFE like some slimeball creep!? I’m not even upset over the plausibility of them “taking my girl!” My wife’s standards go above guys that look like the drive thru employees who pass out our daughter’s happy meals. I’m more upset about the lack of respect, period. To say something like that to me and think you can get away with it…...the half a brain you have left COMBINED, must amount me to the most cowardly person on the planet. They must think I’m still the jolly office geek, too docile to stand up for what he believes in. I took it easy on ‘em when we beat them before and now they’ve misread me as soft. Completely ignoring my OWT title win from over a year ago. Ignoring my tag team title win in here AND Wrestleworld. Ignoring the knees that stabbed them in the back and took them down for the three at Final Destination TWO! Ignoring the fact that I am near INFINITE times the man they’ll ever be and have been fighting assholes like them while they were still killing their dad’s pride at little league games! I’m a father. I’m a husband. And I’m a FIGHTER. All three are tied together. I fight for my family, so the moment they get spoken on…..I gotta make you another statistic on the list of people who thought I’d be too weak to not let them slide. GRiME’s getting shown humility by me, I promise. They’ll regret what they said.

(Teddy Mac looks at Nobi with the utmost seriousness, leaving Nobi terrified along with the elderly couple nearby as Nobi tries to compose himself and steer the conversation.)

Nobi: (anxious delivery) ……..Yeah, I don't like the way The GRiME insulted your family either but we have to realize, they're just trying to play mind games with you, Teddy. I know it's hard to stay calm under such circumstances, trust me, I've been there before, but you can't let your anger cloud your mind too much. What you can do instead, is use your anger and translate it into motivation to beat them. You’re on the right track, but I still sense some of that blind rage; that fatherly need to protect your family at all cost and destroy whoever wrongs them. Your wife and daughters want you to get them back but they also want to see you come home with TWO sets of tag belts. Our revenge is gonna be winning this match, ending their reign prematurely and becoming the first ever two time OWA Tag Team Champions. Tell me, how does that sound!?

Teddy Mac: I understand what you mean. I do want us to become the Tag Champs once more. I was talking with the wife the other day and “Two Belts Teddy” would be super marketable! I talked to Leslie and Lana, commissioned them with some crayola markers, and the T-Shirt logo is already in progress!

Nobi: Haha, that's the spirit. We're going to beat them up like they stole something, and technically they did since they didn’t pin us that night! This is the end to our trilogy. We’ve been going at it with GRiME for MONTHS now. And after Final Destination 2 and Meltdown,  We're 1-1 on them. We have a score to settle with them. This is for all of the marbles. All the bragging rights. Either the “boys” get to live in blissful ignorance, or they get a strong hand to wake them up and teach them some ring etiquette. We have to throw them off the ladders. We have to put them through the tables. And we HAVE to smack some sense into them with those trusty steel chairs. We have to counter everything they do to make sure we're going to win this match. Tyler Bridges and TJ Burns are talented wrestlers both as a unit and as an individual. They’re brats, but they also have every tool to retain the Tag Team Championship. I know I played into your earlier comments with my joke, but their talents and opportunistic nature led them to taking the titles from us in the first place. I mean, The Professional apparently did invade OWA and knock me out with those brass knuckles, but GRiME still had the sense to pick up the pieces against Chaos Elite. And they can always fall back on the hypothetical that they might have beat us fair and square. Who knows? We can't underestimate them. 

Teddy Mac: Is it really underestimating when we have outright proof in one match - the one we beat them in - and can only use “What if’s” in the only match they can argue against us?

Nobi: Point is, they might or might not be decent human beings but they're a great tag team. Even with all of that Mary Jane fogging up their senses, they’re still operating at a high level as a pair. They know their capabilities and they know what they can bring to the table, we have to make sure we don't lose our steps. As a matter of fact, we need to step up our game to give GRiME the lesson they won't forget for a long time.

Teddy Mac: You're right….we don’t want a repeat of Final Destination Two. We don’t want to let them off easy, give them room to call it close, and go back to the well of whining and complaining. We want to massacre them. We want to be better than last time so that we may give a thorough, definitive beating.

(The waiter places the drinks at the table.)

Teddy Mac: Thank you.

Nobi: Also, looking back, it seems the way we lost our titles was also the way we won them.

Teddy Mac: What do you mean?

Nobi: Don't forget, whether it was her intention or not, Aria helped us to become the Tag Team Champion.

Teddy Mac: I thought we're finished talking about this?

Nobi: I thought so too but her and Stephanie Matsuda are going to be in this match apparently. A surprise third addition to this match at the tailend of the build up. In a way, her introduction is like us going full circle. Deep down, I know we could have beaten Keelan and Carlos in our debut as a team but we should still give Aria a dash of credit for helping us out. In the minds of many fans, she'll always be associated with our sudden rise in the Tag Team Division. The strikes of that kendo stick against Keelan’s skin, against Carlos’, those actions are permanently ingrained in the reasons for how we became champions in the first place. That alone gives her a big talking point against us. And of course we all know how many accolades she has racked up in her career. Hell, she is the current Outlaw Champion! There's no denying that Aria is one of the best of all time and a surely future Hall of Famer. We’ve taken in GRiMe’s presence and how it’ll impact us….but factor in Aria and her partner, from the experience the two of them have, to those thoughts of her run in going through the back of our minds…... this is going down to be one of the toughest matches that The Nice Guys are going to experience. 

Teddy Mac: No doubt. Aria Jaxon is someone who I have always had a great respect for. Back when I was only just CONSIDERING in my head to try wrestling, she was on the television wrestling with the big dogs. She was one of the stars that stood out the most, especially to my daughter. She’d be right next to me on the couch, watching the show, eyes wide with enthusiasm. Aria is a revolutionary, generational talent. An intimidating force to have in a match. But also an honor that you dare not waste by getting starstruck or lost in her accomplishments. I admired Aria as a fan, but now I look to top her as a competitor. Aria has already had a legendary run of things, but now she’s even more revitalized. She’s out for all the titles and waging war against anyone who thinks she should be put to rest. These past few months have been a massive flex for how good she still is, and how behind everyone else is to her abilities. It’s an impressive feat. My hat is off to her. But with all due respect I find myself relating to her feelings from a few weeks ago. Remember when she said she was a bit upset about people looking to her as some sort of easy come up, simply a way to access more clout?

Nobi: I do recall.

Teddy Mac: Can I ask, what exactly is Aria randomly dipping her toe into the tag division without any investment in the craft other than wanting another pretty looking belt? What is it besides looking to access more “clout” for her tour of regaining confidence she should have never lost in the first place? This belt collector shtick feels less organic and more like a forced attempt to prove a point that didn’t need to be made to anyone besides the lowest common denominator in our locker room. Platinum might go nice with her gold as she said, and I’m sure the Instagram photo or tweet with the title on her nightstand will get plenty of likes and fancams with Beyonce edits, but what is this beyond hollow optics and fudging stats? Aria is a big star, yes, but we’re the leveraged ones in this match. We’re in Aria’s position when it comes to the tag scene. We were the new thing that took the world by storm. That naturally racked up success after success. If it wasn’t us defending at FD or main eventing with Bull Connors, it was us in Wrestleworld doing it big with completely different partners. We’re in OUR turf and she’s looking to us for that validation, kinda like how Chaos Elite and GRiME were hanging on us before. We made the tag scene hot so she could come to it and get herself hotter! I mean that as no insult, I’m sure even she’d admit that she’s looking to do this to get some more momentum for the brand. Out of the three teams in this TLC, WE'RE the valuable property because we’ve spent match after match elevating this division in the same manner she did with the Azumis and the Harunas and the Clouds a few years back. Aria is an AMAZING Alpha, we get to rub shoulders with her in a title match which is something I wouldn’t have believed a few years ago, but the butterflies need to get out of our stomachs. The nerves need to be calmed. We don’t possess the titles, but we have the wheel to the driver’s seat. As much as people like to go through the Aria archive, we need to look back at ours and tell ourselves that we have the RIGHT to be certain of our victory over her. We must not discount ourselves when it comes to the Queen. Or Queens.

Nobi: Ahhh...we have two to speak on, yes. As for Stephanie Matsuda, it's not a secret that she's of mine friend. We both fought The Underworld together and celebrated all night long after Dreamworld. That beautiful night where she finally beat Claudia Michaels to win The American Dream Championship and I finally put The Professional out of his misery. She's a World’s Finest comrade. She’s also the current PWN World Champion and a WWH Women Champion. Cloud is a belt collector just like Aria is.

Teddy Mac: ...A belt collector, looking to use our division as a minor addition to their trophy case.

Nobi: Ugh….as much as I respect them, having traveled around the road with them for 4 years, I refuse to let them win the Tag Team Championship at GameOver. I don't mean this as some kind of violent grudge. As blatant as it was, I still can't believe that Aria and Cloud would attack us from behind at Olympus. Trying to rationalize it the past few days, I'd like to think that they were using us as messages to GRiME.  Even then…..they know that we're not delivery packages. They know The Nice Guys are the senders. We send people their much needed comeuppance and we make it known ahead of time. We leave big pieces of humble pie to your doorstep free of charge. We don't do sneak attacks like them or play mind games like GRiMe. We make a statement in our matches. I believe they know about it. Especially you, Matsuda, you know how I am. Whether it's Queens of Wrestling or GRiME, we're going to show them that The Nice Guys Is The Tag Team Division. We're the best in the game. 

Teddy Mac: The ONLY ones in the game after GO. Once GRiME loses the belts management will have to let them go for falling out of the age requirement, and Queens of Wrestling will have another scheme to get some titles by the next episode. Maybe Kingdom Pro, OATH, OWT…..There’s always Flaherty and Hampton, I guess. This match is reminding me of Dreamworld. A ladder match full of teams with competitors in it for the wrong reasons, and a single team that actually has heart AND honesty in their work….guess who won that match. THIS GUY! And just like Guns, Cars and Fights, you’re being brought in for the sequel, Nobi!

Nobi: EXCELLENT! I’m sure that champion’s bonus will payout the same as the box office.

(Nobi and Teddy smile as their food arrives. Nobi’s large platter is laid out, while Teddy is given a small plate.)

Teddy Mac: I’m going to need more than this!

Nobi: I thought you lost your appetite?

Teddy Mac: It’s like the tag belts, I’m getting it back! AND I NEED MORE THAN THIS PRONTO! Give me what Nobi has and DOUBLE IT!

Waiter: Right away, sir!

Nobi: You’re back to 100%!

Teddy Mac: It’s the return of the Mac! 

Nobi: Good to see it. Still want to eat that?

Teddy Mac: I guess this will be a fine appetizer. Do sushi places make dessert? Ice Cream? Cake?

(Teddy Mac looks over the menu as the elderly man from the table over looks at him in disbelief.)

Old Man: Ok, I was willing to forget about the coke, but raw fish and CAKE? Who raised these men!?

Old Wife: Oh Kenneth, behave!

(Nobi and Teddy chow down, happily back to their groove as we fade from the scene.)

The camera fades into a shot of Reginald Dampshaw III's estate. Inside, Reginald is in a large room that he's reconstructed into a conference room. He's sitting at a large marble desk and is anxiously shuffling papers around.

Reginald Dampshaw III: I just don't understand. I don't. Why is this happening? 

Reginald grabs some more papers and frantically reads through them. He runs his fingers through his hair but gets caught on a tangle and just rips his hand out. He sees a clump of hair in his hand and frowns.

Reginald Dampshaw III: I need to call Oasis. 

Reginald scrambles and grabs his laptop. He opens up FaceTime and calls Scott Oasis. After a few rings, a confused and tired Oasis appears on screen but doesn't realize that he's already answered the call.

Scott Oasis: Why is this damn fool calling me at 3am? 

Scott mumbles more under his breath before noticing Reginald's on the screen. His demeanour instantly changes.

Scott Oasis: Reggie! My boy! What can I do for you on this… sigh early morning chat?

Reginald Dampshaw III: I need to talk to you again about removing this "Winner Becomes Kingdom GM" stipulation at Game Over. 

Scott Oasis: Come on, Reggie. I already explained to you, I'm making this match because I believe in you. You think I want Havoc and his group of emo shitheads running the show? Hell no!

Reginald Dampshaw III: I understand that, sir and I appreciate it. But just look at the ratings from this time last year in comparison to now that I'm running the show. Kingdom used to 3.5s and 3.6s. Fairly good. But now we're doing 4.5s and sometimes even hitting the 5.0 mark. We regularly beat Olympus and Odyssey and-

Scott Oasis: Do you not think you can beat Havoc? 

Reginald Dampshaw III: W..what?

Scott Oasis: I didn't stutter, partner. Do you not think you can beat Havoc?


Reginald looks away from the computer, looking hurt. He stares back at Oasis with a determined look on his face.

Reginald Dampshaw III: I know I can beat him.

Scott Oasis: Good! Then why you stressin’? You got this, dog. I have faith. Now...don’t call me at 3am again. I need my beauty sleep. 

Oasis quickly disconnects from the conversation. Reginald sits at the laptop in silence for a few moments before standing up.

Reginald Dampshaw III: God damn it. This has been taken out of my grasp. I knew The Ashes were on my trail, but this is too much. From the constant refusal to listen to my rules, to the effigy burning, all the way to this stipulation. I can't lose my power. I can't. I've finally found some stability in my life and it feels like it's being ripped out of my hands….Demis! Get over here!

Almost as soon as Reginald yells, Demis comes into the room. Reginald turns around and points to him.

Reginald Dampshaw III: Demis, have I become too much of a corporate patsy?

Demis opens his mouth to speak but Reginald puts his hand up to shush him.
 
Reginald Dampshaw III: Don't say another word, Demis. I know I have. I've turned into nothing but just another bootlicker. Come. We have to train. 

Reginald and Demis walk out of the room as the large doors swing closed. After a few moments, a camcorder turns on and Reginald is looking at the camera now in his wrestling gear. The large, regal conference room has changed to Reginald's dark and dingy training gym. Reginald smirks at the camera.

Reginald Dampshaw III: Why, hello there Christopher. Or, should I not call you that? I don't want to throw you into another tantrum. But, see, I've never understood this change. When I joined OWA, you were Christopher Sabertooth, long golden locks flowing like a Norse God. And while I can relate to you being pushed past your breaking point, I never needed to change my name and paint my face up like a clown. I never needed to pretend like I was something that I'm not. The Time Lizard? I've always been that. I've been The Time Lizard before you even opened your eyes for the first time. 

Reginald turns around and starts sending punches and kicks to Demis' body. Demis merely absorbs the attacks as Reginald continues to speak.

Reginald Dampshaw III: I get it. You're frustrated. You haven't really set the world on fire here lately. And if we want to throw Wrestleworld into the mix, how does losing the European Championship taste? You claim to be this dark, powerful being, but it looks like Ozymandis had the upper hand in being just that much more sinister. Just that little bit more sadistic to snuff out your flame. Do we sense a pattern here? And yes, I would be remiss if I didn't mention your triumphant victory at Final Destination 2 where you won the Ascension to The Heavens Briefcase. But when was the last time you even teased cashing that in? It's become another meaningless trinket in your possession. You see that's what irritates me about you and your Ashes clan. You're all greedy, greedy people. Me? I'm a giving man. Look at the great shows I give our OWA audience every week. I give to The New Dawn every second of my life, yet you hold onto that briefcase like a petulant child holding onto a rattle. I find it interesting that my GM position is on the line, but your briefcase isn’t. I know people have said, “Ditch the paint and come back to being who you really are”, but not me. You want to hide behind a false persona and some grease paint, fine. But let us get something very straight. You are not taking something for me. I’m not stupid. I know your little flunkeys are going to come down and try to distract me. They’re going to try and overwhelm the odds against me so you can slither your way into a victory. Don’t try and say otherwise. A snake can always recognize another snake.

Reginald goes back to sparring with Demis. He kicks Demis in the gut and runs behind him, lifting him up. At first, Reginald has some trouble lifting up the much larger Demis, but he tries again and is able to slam Demis down with a German Suplex. Reginald cracks his neck before turning back towards the camera.

Reginald Dampshaw III: I’m never going to forget that burning effigy. It was like watching myself burn alive...I could hear my own screams. I could smell my own flesh burning. I told you that you were walking down a road you really shouldn’t. But you didn’t listen, did you? And while I appreciate the persistence, you’re going to have to atone for what you’ve done. I know my words aren’t going to do anything to intimidate you. I’ve come to terms with that. But I promise you. You can paint your face with the colours darker than the coldest, farthest reaches of space. You can delve into your subconscious and believe no one could handle the disgusting and evil things you could conjure but you’ve opened up something, Havoc.. Like an excavationist opening up an Egyptian tomb only to release an evil spirit, you’re playing with something that you should have left well alone. You’re going to find that out very, very soon... 

Reginald turns back to Demis who is now on his feet. He motions for Demis to come at him and he does. Demis tries a lariat which Reginald ducks. Reginald grabs Demis from the back of the head and uses all of his strength to lift him for The Family Name. Reginald is slow to get back up but he walks over to the camcorder.

Reginald Dampshaw III: Very soon.

A slow, eerie smile creeps over Reginald's face before he shuts off the camcorder as the screen turns black.

Although he royally kicked my ass, I have nothing but respect for Mike Bishop. The man is ruthless, relentless, and an all-around legend here in OWA. I really should’ve thanked the man because he taught me a valuable lesson: never let your guard down. I wasn’t ready for the brutality he unleashed and I paid the price for it. Now I know better. Now I know what to expect from some of the finest in this company.

The only problem is, I don’t see much of OWA’s finest in this gauntlet match. Honestly all I see are fools who are just random jobbers from botchamania, and that’s coming from me! I mean, Jacob Nighttime? Stories of your embarrassing performances have stretched far and wide, and I must say it’s almost offensive that I have to share a ring with you for my second match here. Seeing how everyone has been able to steamroll you since Jeff X’s Invitational, I don’t expect you to be as threatening as you appear.

Then there’s Shaker Jones... honestly, what kind of name is that? And for someone who has a tour bus and has been around the world winning gold, why is it that I’m just now learning anything about you? Like, I don’t live under a rock. Perhaps it’s telling that you’ve spent all these years trying to build your little brand and are just now getting the limelight when I’ve only just started my career and I’m already in the best company in our industry. I will say though, it’s a shame that I have to kick his head off his shoulders because him and I would probably get along nicely.

How about Niki Khan, the wife of Kenny Drake? Your reputation proceeds you, Niki, and I’m not too surprised that you don’t know who many of your opponents are, myself included. But then again, who would be up to date on what goes on here after spending months away weeping at the bedside of a broken husband? Regardless, I’m going to make absolutely sure you know who I am after our match. You want to say I’m a clueless child wandering aimlessly through a supermarket? Well I’m that kid who is in the supermarket that will drag your ass up and down the aisle and mop the floor with you, even if it means I have to bleed, even if I have to leave New York City, MY goddamn city, on a freaking stretcher!

My introduction to the OWA got off on the wrong foot, there’s no denying that. But that does give me a distinct advantage: the element of surprise. And now, every single one of you will get to experience firsthand the lengths I’m willing to go to to walk out of New York with a victory!

I’ll see you at Atlantis, bitches.

We find ourselves within the luxurious home of Kindom superstar, J.D. Damon. More percisely, our scene opens up within the large room that he considers his office. Glass cases cover the back wall of the room with various wrestling memorbillia that he has acquired during his acquisations of various professional wrestling companies of the past. In the middle of the glass cases is a WOLVESDEN flag spread across the wal with pride. A huge wrap around desk sits in the middle of the room where we find our HERO sitting at. He leans back in his leather chair with his feet up. He holds an iPad in front of him as the light is the only thing that is some-what illuminating the room. Damon taps the tablet a few times before stopping mid-tap. Something obviously catches his eye.
 
Hmmm… interesting. Very interesting.
 
An e-mail from his personal agent / lawyer / publicist / he picks up his groceries, Michael W. Wilson. The e-mail reads.
 


 
 
 
Damon pauses for several seconds as he lowers the iPad from his face and places it on the desk in front of him. He places his hands behind his head, as he stares out into space with a bit of a smirk spread across his face. A laugh errupts from inside of him, as he sits up from his chair and slams his fist down on his desk.
 
IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME! It’s about time OWA and Kingdom management has finally realized just what they have with me being on their God forsaken roster. Sure, maybe you all are saying that it’s about damn time that J.D. Damon actually won a match on Kingdom. And my response to that? You’re right! It is about time. Udy was just a mere stepping stone. A stepping stone for me to finally reach my full potential. Shit, in my opinion I should have bypassed all of this and went straight to the top of the roster. TO THE MOON! Right to the main event, baby, and facing that clown Moongoose McQueen for Kenny’s OWA World Championship. But, that’s not the case. Instead, here we are. A clusterfuck of a match for the Spartan Championship.
 
Damon looks behind him at the glass cases containing various championship belts that he has won and/or took ownership of when purchasing bankrupt wrestling companies.
 
You know, I think that the Spartan Championship will look very, very nice in my collection. You see, there’s something that a lot of you don’t know about your ole’ boy J.D.; I’m a bit of a collector of… fine things. Things that catch my eye. Shiny things that catch my eye, and that belt that Arata Asakura currently walks around with around his waist will look just fine in my collection of treasures.
 
Arata… Arata… Welp, since we’re on the subject of our current fearless champion, shall we? WE SHALL! Arata, my friend, you and I had a bit of a… eh, fuck it, let’s call it a hiccup when we first met, didn’t we? When was it? Last year? Earlier this year? I don’t know anymore, my years have merged. Anyways. When you and I met while you were the holder of the keys to the kingdom, we had a bit of a disagreement with who felt should hold those keys. You thought you should hold it. I thought I should have. We faced in the ring, and… you were right. You won that argument so good for you on that one, old boy. But you see, since then you and I have been able to put our unfortunate past behind us and come together to fight against those Ashes of the Wake assholes and defend the Kingdom brand. Our brand. MY BRAND! MY KINGDOM! For that, for everything that you have done with trying to stomp out the Ashes, you have my respect. And in return, I hope that you respect me, as well Arata. But you know something -- RESPECT DOESN’T MEAN EVERYTHING! RESPECT won’t feed my family, Arata. RESPECT will NOT put food on my family’s fucking table, Arata! Do you even understand how many fucking kids I have, Arata?! FOUR! I have four of the damn things. Do you think RESPECT will put clothes on my family’s backs?! DO YOU?! NO! Do you know what will, though? ME AS THE NEW SPARTAN CHAMPION. Shhh, shhh. Just think about it. Think about it for a few seconds. J.D. Damon, The Purist, The Ultimate Disharmony. Your new OWA SPARTAN CHAMPION. It has a fantastic ring to it, eh? With me being the new champion that means, more merchandise sales for not only yours truly, but Wolvesden in general. Those merchandise sales, those autograph signings, those photo opportunities? All of those creates dollar signs, my friend. DOLLAR SIGNS, MOTHERFUCKER! So in the end, me as YOUR NEW Spartan Champion will put food on my family’s table. So, you can take that respect, every ounce of it, and shove it up your fucking ass. Because at the end of day, I don’t need your respect. I don’t need Jeff X’s respect. I don’t need the Kingdom Frontline’s respect. All I need - ALL. I. NEED. - is the respect of Wolvesden. And that’s something I already have achieved.
 
NEXT!
 
Damon grabs his iPad from his desk and opens up the PDF attachement from the e-mail from earlier and stares at the list of other participants in the match. Within mere seconds of reading it, he bursts out in laughter.
 
LOOK AT THIS SHIT! Have you all seen this bullshit?! The Infernal Beast… Oliver Harpe… Theodor Pavel… Ryo Sakazaki… JACOB FUCKING KNIGHT!
 
You have got to me fucking kidding me! Is this… is this like a fucking joke or something?! This right here… THIS is the best that OWA management could honestly do?! C’mon! Listen, I understand Game Over isn’t no Final Destination, but for fuck’s sake it’s still a pretty big event if I do say so myself. So instead of throwing some people into this match with some actual NAME VALUE we have this list of guys?
 
Gotcha.
 
Now, I’m not one to toot my own horn or anything and say that I’m the far better competitor compared to this list of so-called “wrestlers,” but… TOOT MOTHERFUCKING TOOT! So, let me get this straight… I beat Udy last Sunday on Kingdom… I beat The Infernal Beast within an inch of his fucking pathetic life, but yet in the end he still gets a place in this match? Right… because that makes perfect fucking sense. That’s the wonderful brain power of OWA management, ladies and gentlemen. OWA, the only place in the world of professional wrestling, where you can lose a GODDAMN match and still be rewarded with a title match. Well, shit. If we are going by that mindset, then I should be World Champion by now! FUCK!
 
Udy… Infernal Beast… Dr. Ryland… whatever personality that decides to show up at Game Over. Do us all a HUGE favor and re-watch just exactly what went down on Kingdom last week. Watch it once. Watch it twice. Watch it over and over until all of your personality’s brains fully grasps just what exactly happened. It only took one - COUNT ‘EM ONE! - Death By Damon to put you out of your misery, Udy. Only one. And that’s all it’s going to take to snap you out of whatever delusional world you and your “friends” live in. The Spartan Championship is nowhere near your level, Udy. Nope. Not even close. Instead of being in this match, you should be wrestling in that short bus match that Niki is apart of on Atlantis: Next Level. I already had my shot at killing you, I’m sure Niki would LOVE to finish you off. But nevertheless here we are. Instead of that, we live in a world where UDY gets a Spartan title shot. I guess this year could and HAS gotten worse. I pray that 2021 is better than this shit…
 
Who’s next… who’s ne…--
 
AH, YES!
 
Jacob motherfucking Knight. “Headstrong” Jacob Knight. The LOSER of The Ashes of the Wake. The man who was already given a shot, an opportunity, to dethrone Arata Asakura as the Spartan Champion two months ago at Boiling Point. But, how did that work out for you?! Oh, let me refresh your memory for you, Jacob. YOU FAILED! You failed to bring championship gold to The Ashes. Instead, The Vincent had to do what you couldn’t do! He had to be the one to bring PRIDE to your little group of jackasses. How does that feel, Jacob? How does it feel knowing that you have brought nothing - NOTHING - to your little brand of idiots except for SHAME. How in the FUCK will The Ashes of the Wake ever be looked at as a threat in any sense if one of it’s members constantly is on the losing end of things?! Now… before you say anything in regards to me losing and Wolvesden, don’t even bother bringing it up. And I’ll explain why. My unfortunate losing has done nothing for Wolvesden image. It hasn’t tarnished it in the least bit. For the mere fact that Wolvesden isn’t a faction, group, stable, whatever you want to call it, that can be brought down. Many, many have tried over the years, but look at US! WE’RE STILL STANDING! And better than ever may I add. Jacob Knight, this weekend at Game Over do me a favor. Do me a HUGE favor. I want you to invite all of your Ashes cronies to sit ringside for your match. Invite them all. Havoc. The Vincent. MAVERICK. Invite them. Because I would love nothing more than to watch every single one of them cry when I EXECUTE you in the middle of the ring. It’s going to be fucking glorious.
 
Oliver Harpe… Oliver Harpe… where do I begin with Oliver Harpe? I mean, I could start off with… FUCK YOU, OLIVER! Yeah, that’s right. I said it. Fuck you, Oliver. Fuck you for what you did a few weeks ago on Kingdom. A man who stayed on the floor outside of the ring for ninty-nine percent of our three-way match with Jacob Knight. You stayed down. Pretending to me knocked out or whatever you did. Instead of actually pulling up your big boy pants and showing the world how lackluster you truly are in the ring, you decided to wait until I laid Jacob Knight out, and then - BOOM! You throw me out of the ring and got the upset victory. That’s fucked up, Oliver. Shit, that’s something that I would expect out of… ME… but not you. Not someone like you, Oliver. Someone who claims to be the who’s who of the Kingdom roster. Whatever. Do you recall what I told you last week, Oliver? No? One too many hits to the head? Nah, it can’t be that. I mean, you actually have to WRESTLE in order to get hit in the head. Let me remind you. I told you that one day, sooner or later, I would get my revenge on you, Oliver. I would get revenge on what happened during that match. And look where we are now, Oliver. Game Over this weekend, I am going to do just that. SEEK REVENGE ON YOU! There’s one thing that you need to understand about me, Oliver, and that is that I am one spiteful motherfucker. I can hold a grudge like it’s my fucking job. So, I will not REST until I break your neck, rip you limb from limb, and feed you to my Wolves. Do you understand that, Oliver?
 
DO ANY OF YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING?!
 
This match. This opportunity is something that I am not going to take lightly. I am not going to rest until every one of you are in the morgue. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. OF. YOU. Ryo Sakazaki… Theodor Pavel… ALL OF YOU! You see, with each passing week I have been getting more and more tastes of sweet victory. And all of that makes me hungry. IT MAKES ME FAMISHED. It makes me want more. It has awoken something from within me. Something that I haven’t unleashed for many years. Something that the world has not witnessed since the debut of Wolvesden. It has awoken the MONSTER from within me. J.D. Damon was once a name that everyone - EVERYONE - knew and feared. A name that has since become soft, or that’s what the current rumor is. Well, let me clear up once thing for all of you. The J.D. Damon that you all know, forget about him. HE’S DEAD and BURIED. R.I.P. The J.D. Damon that is currently speaking to you all? It’s a version of myself that you all have never seen before. I AM THE ELITE! It’s a J.D. Damon that wants that championship belt. No, no, no. Want isn’t even the word to describe it. I NEED THAT BELT. Like a fucking crack head needs his daily fix, I NEED that belt. I’m the only man that can bring pride back to that championship. Arata has done a piss poor job with it since beating RD3. And I will do WHATEVER it takes to make sure that I do just that.
 
Gentlemen… you have no idea what you all have gotten yourselves into when you accepted the terms of this match. Match?! Nah. More like a MASSACRE. Nothing is going to save any of you from me and the PAIN that I will be dishing out this weekend. So, do whatever you need to do to get your affairs in order. Open up your Bibles, Read your verses. Get on your knees. Say your prayers. Do whatever you feel like you need to do in an attempt to save your poor, patehtic souls, but in the end… Not even JESUS CHRIST himself can fucking help you!
 
Damon gets up from behind his desk and stares at the flag of Wolvesden that is spread across his wall in between the glass cases. A sense of pride washes across himself.
 
I can’t let them down. I CAN’T. I WON’T. I NEED THAT BELT! I NEED THAT BELT!!!!!!!!!

It's truly, truly unfortunate that it has all had to come down to this, ya know? All of the years of bullshit that everyone has talked about me has come down to this. MURDER. I am going to literally commit murder on national television. Unfortunate. Very... unfortunate...

Ladies and gentlemen, when everything is said and done… and all you can see is a ring filled with lifeless bodies, I will be the only one left standing. I will stand triumphant in that sea of corpses. And as I look around at all of the CHAOS that I have caused, I will raise that Spartan title high in the air for all to see. That, my friends, isn’t a promise. It’s not a guarantee. THAT… is a MOTHERFUCKING spoiler alert!
 
WOLVES… 


AERTENUM
 
Damon turns around and stares deeply into the camera before walking out of the scene. The camera focuses in on the black and red flag of Wolvesden, before fading into the abyss.

INT. PASSENGER PLANE - MORNING

A high class plane. The tan leather seats face each other in several alternating rows, and the cabin is illuminated in a dim yellow light. The sunrise pokes in through one of the open windows. Only two passengers are present. One of them, JOSIE GREY, swipes her finger across her iPad, reads, and repeats. The woman across from her, NIKI KHAN, sits cross-legged across from her, sipping slowly from a Starbucks cup and staring out the window.






JOSIE looks up at her boss with sad, tired eyes. NIKI glances at her and sighs.


JOSIE nods and taps at her iPad. A screen on the wall beside them suddenly illuminates.




JOSIE sighs and softly shakes her head. The poster for Atlantis: Next Level pops up. Down on the bottom are the competitors in the Pre-Order Gauntlet. NIKI is right in the middle.





JOSIE taps another button, pulling up the list of wrestlers in the match…











JOSIE nods and pulls up the Shaker Jones promo...she presses play, much to NIKI’s  chagrin…

A few minutes later.

NIKI hangs her head, clearly now having a migraine.










JOSIE, again, taps at her screen. 

Her brow furrows, as if deeply confused…

She taps again...her brows go up...a small smirk crosses her face.






NIKI leans forward, clearly very agitated by how poorly this whole “Shaker Jones” thing was planned out…she stares at JOSIE as if it’s her fault...







NIKI leans back, staring out the window. The look on her face tells the whole story: crippling disappointment. 



JOSIE turns to the poster and looks over the competition...she stops herself from finishing her sentence. 


JOSIE nods and swipes on her tablet. The Mark Michaels promo pops up and plays…

A few more minutes later…



NIKI and JOSIE glance at each other…

And begin laughing hysterically…

JOSIE shakes her head and wipes away tears. NIKI slaps her leg and belly laughs.

This lasts longer than the Michaels promo.




JOSIE nods and bursts out laughing. NIKI follows suit. 

They smile at each other. This has brought them closer together.



NIKI slaps JOSIE on the leg as they both cackle again. 

NIKI suddenly stops laughing. Her face goes cold. She pulls out a butterfly knife, flips it open, and twirls it as she stands.


D-\_i=E-_-D-/—=+iE-/_D-/-:_\_i-_\=E

Niki stands in a dark room...a wooden table lays in front of her, covered in several knives of differing sizes. Slabs of meat sit stacked off to the side. Niki wears a white t-shirt covered by a brown leather apron. She leans against the table, glancing lovingly at the knives. 


Niki slowly picks up a large butcher's knife and eyes it. She gently shakes her head and places it down.


She picks up a serrated blade, around 6 inches long, and holds it up to the light. Again, she softly shakes her head and lowers it.



Niki suddenly and violently stabs the serrated knife into the wooden table with an unsettling thunk.



Niki cocks her head, as if looking at a puppy.





Niki covers her mouth and stares off into space, visibly struggling with finding the words.

She cocks her head slightly...


Again...she holds her chin...she reaches out slightly to the middle distance, grasping for inspiration…

Before dropping her hands in frustration. Her shoulders droop; she hangs her head...it’s not worth the effort.




Niki shakes her head and chuckles. 











Niki steps forward...her eyes piercing through the lens…




















Niki shakes her head and picks up a meat cleaver. 


She grabs a slab of meat and throws it down in front of her. With one precise strike of the cleaver, she cuts the steak in half. She places the cleaver down and picks up the butcher’s knife, absentmindedly trimming the fat from the meat…




Niki stifles a laugh.


Again, Niki stifles her laugh. This time, she places her open hand in front of her mouth to cover her smile. She lowers it and smirks. 


Niki glares up at the camera.











Niki can’t help but shake her head as she slams the butcher's knife into another slab of meat. She drags it through, slicing the steak like butter. She cuts off a LARGE piece of fat, leaving a small sliver of meat.

She holds the fat up to the camera.


She chuckles and tosses away the flub. 





Niki picks up the cleaver and holds it up...blood drips from it and onto her hand. 

A sadistic smile crosses her face as the camera slowly zooms in.



Niki drops the cleaver with a heart stopping clang. She reaches her blood covered out…

The Wolves Cross flickers on behind her, illuminating the room…

Niki is surrounded by massive slabs of raw meat, hanging from bloody meat hooks. 

She smiles.


She cackles.

The room goes black.

WOLVES

(Today Elijah is alone. No Shea Flaherty and his shenanigans, no Roy Bandini and his voice of reason. Just the Snazzy One, alone, in his home, doing super interesting things. He’s taking care of and cleaning his two collections. His icy as fuck chains and his prized mineral collection like he Hank. He’s of course wearing a dope turtleneck with a pair of shades indoors to let everyone know how tough he is.)

“I feel..I feel free. More importantly, I feel good. And well, I look gooooood. Scrumptious, actually. Yeah, I look scrumptious. What? We were all thinking it. But I suppose feeling ‘free’ only makes sense because when it comes to these promotional videos I am usually accompanied by the ol’ ball and chain.. I mean, my tag team partner. You know the vibes. You know the videos. The videos where we try to express and demonstrate team unity. As we cheer and shake our pom-poms and yell GO TEAM GO! Throw in some loud obnoxious claps and some cheesy forced smiles. I would let Shea throw me up in the air as I do some crazy flip and spin like I’m Shaun White on a snowboard.. shout out to The Flying Tomato by the way, but I think we all know he wouldn’t even attempt to catch me, but let my neck break my fall. Jk we besties. You all see it from our videos. Videos where we share many laughs from all our inside jokes as we bond. All the while our cohesiveness continues to grow. Our friendship takes a big ol’ boost. Two peas in a pod we are. So it’s odd. Standing here alone. It’s odd. Not feeling him push me out of the way from the camera shot so he can make this all about him. It’s odd. He’s odd. Real talk from a real one.. he gets on my nerves. He pushes my buttons. He makes it next to impossible to get along with him because often times he acts like a child, begging me to buy him the newest toy in the store. Tugging on my shirt. Kicking my shins. Punching my sides with his little fists until he’s red in the face. Crying until snot shoots from his nose like the brat he is. Just making a big scene. That’s what he does. He yells his point because he thinks that’s how you win an argument. His words are gibberish. Because he’s CRRRAAAZZZY! He is. He is crazy. He is crazy when he talks about how he doesn’t need me. That he can beat these tag teams all on his own. I get it. He feels that way because when he puts that face paint on, he thinks he’s a real-life superhero. Like we on the set of Kick-Ass. Thinking he’s touchable, thinking he’s invincible. But invincible he is not. For I am his kryptonite. Always have been. Always will be. He appears weak when he is next to me because every night, I overshadow him. I outshine him. I out-compete him. Because I am better. And I shouldn’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have to say this. He’s my tag team partner. I shouldn’t harbor any ill will towards him. But I do. Because this feeling of constantly looking over my shoulder is getting old. Constantly needing to have eyes in the back of my head so I can try to dodge the knife he will eventually stick in my back and through my heart of gold is tiring. He should have my back. Not trying to carve it up. I should be able to count on him. I should be able to depend on him. But I don’t get that. I don’t get that sigh of relief. I don’t get that strength in numbers advantage. Because quite frankly he’s a liability. To some of you that are listening to this, you probably think this is all unwarranted. That this is sour grapes. That this me throwing him under the bus. Or I’m orchestrating some type of smear campaign. But it’s not. He knows how I feel. And I know how he feels about me. He’s predictable, after all. I know him like the back of my hand. The same backhand that should slap him across the face so he can finally fall in line! But even with all that said, I must remain optimistic. I must remain patient and I must remain glass half full. Because I’m the team leader with the captain patch on my chest. I gotta lead by example. Lead. As I try to lead the stubborn pony that is Shea to the water even though I can’t force him to drink. I’m more of a stallion myself but that’s beside the point. I’m trying to stay hopeful here and not focus on the walls closing in on me. So who knows, maybe one day we will be able to coexist. Wishful thinking? Perhaps. We'll probably not get along anytime soon because that is simply asking for far too much, but coexist? Sure. That could be achievable. And the day that happens.. I’m sorry to disappoint all the ladies watching this, I will no longer be able to wrestle in trunks. I know, I know..it’s a bummer, but please, put on a brave face for the others. STAY STRONG! But I will have to cover my body, my temple. I will need as much warmth as possible because I’ll be shivering from the brutal cold due to the fact hell has frozen over.”

(Elijah takes his shades off and hangs them on the collar of his elegant and exclusive turtleneck. Unless OWA shop wants to sell em, fine. It’ll cost you a pretty penny. Or a dime aka an Elijah Hampton.)

“With this battle royal, which I’ll be competing in, as well as my tag team partner, Shea.. Roy sat us down, went over an elaborate game plan, covering all the bases, and most of all, made sure that we are on the same page. Which we never are. But he wanted us to have the same intentions. And we do. He knows that we are singles wrestlers through and through. It’s what we both desire. Go ahead Lucifer, look into my eyes, and ask me just that and it’ll be the truth. But yet, OWA wants us to be partners. At first, I thought it was some kind of sick joke. But then I realized Amy Schumer isn’t the OWA CEO so that couldn’t be it. But I see what this is. I see what is going on here. And I’m fine with it for the time being. See, Shea and I, we don’t have some clever tag team name that is a play on words. But if we did? We might as well go by The Guinea Pigs. We are teaming because all this is, is an experiment. It’s no secret that tag team wrestling has been a weak spot in not just OWA, but in all of professional wrestling for quite some time. It’s because everyone wants their OWN glory. They want the fame, the attention, the accolades all to themselves. Sharing it..sharing the spotlight doesn’t sound as appealing, now does it? So what do they do? They put two men that absolutely hate each other...two men that want to rip each other from limb to limb in the same team. Knowing if this experiment works, if we strike gold and win those tag team titles, anyone can. And that’s not a shot at our talent, by no means. Because I know my worth, darling. But it gives hope. That egos can coexist. That differences can be put aside when teammates share one common goal. And winning those titles is one of my goals. ONE being the keyword because I have plenty of aspirations. I’m not going to put myself in a pigeonhole. Elijah Hampton is many things but a one-trick pony, HE IS NOT! Because sure, my career might be handcuffed to Shea’s but just like every other team, eventually, we will part ways. And when that day comes..like the first words I uttered today..I’ll be free. And I’ll prove that I’m a jack of all trades. That OWA can plug me in anywhere and I’ll succeed. I’ll come out on top and somehow, someway I’ll come out looking even better than I did before. Impossible right? But until then, I am a tag team wrestler. Therefore I’m mostly going to be booked in tag team matches. Makes sense. But every now and then, I’ll get to shine on my own. I’ll be able to give you a snippet, no, a taste of what Elijah Hampton can really do. Open wide because the Hampton hype train is coming through, choo-choo MOTHERFUCKERS! So, going back to what Roy told us and reminding us what’s in our contracts, we are not meant to go after each other but work with one another. That as long as one of us wins, we both win. I agree with the first part, but the latter? Ehhhh. Let me throw a 'thetical at ya. If Shea and I are the last ones standing, we will have no other choice but to fight. We’ll have no other choice but to uncork our frustration and aggression towards the other and I don’t know if OWA, or this world for the matter, is ready for such chaos. Yes, even with everything 2020 has thrown at us. But sure, I’m willing to work with Shea before then. However, if he even lays a single finger on me? The deal is off, Roy.” 

“So yes, this battle royal..to some, it’s not appealing. It’s not a dream match filled with dream opponents. It’s the leftovers. The rejects. As if this is the NIT tourney. From my understanding, the winner doesn’t even get anything? There is no future world title shot on the line. Or maybe there is? Who the fuck knows. Point is, I don’t need that. I don’t need extra motivation heading into this match. I don’t need a reason to up my game. Because I’m ready. I’m pumped. I’ll have my boots laced tight. I’ll splash some water on my head. I’ll slap my face to get me ready to go! Actually, you’re right, I shouldn’t damage this face. It must be protected at all costs. Point is, I’ll be ready. Because for all I know, this’ll be the last match in OWA where I find myself alone. A match where I don’t have to wait until Shea cowers in fear and begs to tag me in so I can save the day.. AGAIN! This is my showcase. This is my moment. My glory. And I know, I have like thirty opponents that’ll say otherwise. And that’s fine. You can waste your time and breath, trying to prove I’m wrong through your words while I’ll prove myself right through my actions. I look at these names and I don’t underestimate a single one of them. Especially when it comes to this match type. All it takes is to lose focus for one second and boom, next thing you know you’re going for a ride until you crash out onto the floor. Getting humbled. Which is something many in this match could use. But me? Nah. Because while I’m listening to some of these people go on and on about how they are above this match, I don’t think I am. I’m the new guy. I’m just getting started. My feet are a little dry, so allow me get em a little wet first. I’ll take any match I can get and I’ll knock it out of the park like a roided up Bonds. Look, I know what you want. I know you want the drama. You want me to call out every opponent. But I’m not going to do that. Not because I’m afraid to do so. Not because I hate confrontation. But because I simply don’t know much about these people except for Shea and Maelstrom. One being my partner and the other we beat. Well, I didn’t pin the demi god I think the ridiculous nickname he goes by? No, instead I pinned the current OWA World Champion. No big deal. I could brag about that ya know? Flex on all these fools nah I mean? I mean I kinda already did but I could go on and on about it until I’m blue in the face but I’m not going to do that. I could use it as evidence as to why I don’t need this match like I’m Marky Mark over there even though you have done nothing to prove why you are actually head and shoulders above the rest of us ‘bottom feeders’ while he levitates above the rest of us. Delusional. You and Shea would get along just fine..while I on the other hand will give every single one of you a reason to hate me for when I stand tall."

“Last week I spoke about how someone such as myself makes every match I participate something of value, something of worth in regards to who challenges for world titles. Last week I spoke about being credible, thus week I speak about being incredible. See I used to have this saying, you couldn’t be better than perfect. But if the last year has taught me anything, it’s that I needed to be just that. And with this preamble, or whatever the fuck they call it, battle royal coming up I’ll...”

( a long few moments pass in silence as Michaels face slightly but noticeably begins to scowl. )

“ You know what before I talk about the afterthought battle royal they’re throwing me in, I have to come clean. I can’t lie to myself and pretend that I’m excited to be on this show. I have to say that I deserve better. I’m not saying this as some prima donna throwing a temper tantrum, I say this as a man who for the last month has been mixing it up with the absolute best that Olympus has to offer, the guys who are being handed world title matches while I’m stuck in a match where the winner won’t even be remembered the day after. I say this as the guy who has pushed Nas, and Darkane, and Nate Cage to the limit, the guy who has been mixing it up with possibly the next Omega Heavyweight Champion. Yeah those matches may have gotten away from me by a hair, but that is nothing to be ashamed about. No what is something to ashamed of is being held in no higher regard than freaking Shaker Jones! I’ve spent the last month setting the bar, acting as the gate keeper to the World Title, and instead of a title shot, or at least a showcase match, I get to go out and be lost in the shuffle like I’ve been the past four years! Excuse me for being so blunt, but this is bullshit! And what’s more it reflects an error in judgment on behalf of the suits making the matches around here, sticking me in muck with the peons and dregs of the entire company. Well if Tarah and her ilk think they can pull the wool over my eyes and stick me in lower mid-card hell, she has another thing coming! My eyes are opened, I am awakened. and now that I, with the aid of Brother Jamal and my old buddy Nathan Fiora, I see how she is screwing me over just like she’s trying to screw Nathan over. I spend the summer nipping at the heels of the so called top dogs of Olympus, and all I get for it is to be asked why I did it? Why I decided to hitch my wagon to father Fiora’s? Well for starters how about this shitty booking. If that’s not enough reason how about the fact that I’m not stupid, I see madmen like Nate Cage running around scheming his way to title matches while twisting our “ illustrious“ General Managers arm into getting everything he wants. I see Nas and Finnegan Wakefield running to each other’s aid the moment one of them so much as stubs their toe. I see the phantom troop consolidating power day by day, and ganging up like a pack of Hyenas to guys laying in the ring. So while I never had any kind of qualms about going it alone, I figured in this instance it doesn’t hurt to have a group of like minded individuals, who like me have been fucked over time and again, watching my back the same as I’d watch theirs. Put simply if you want a reason why I’ve decided to follow Nathan Fiora, go ask Tarah Moore why she made the choice so easy.
She could have shown that she was more than just another retired wrestler turned corporate sell out, she could have shown that last two months weren’t just me spinning my wheels for her amusement. But instead she just dumped me in another battle royal against the same career curtain jerkers I faced back at Meltdown! Oh only now instead of a title shot on the line, we all get to compete just to have something to do this week. Well that just doesn’t fly with me. You see I’m not going Into this battle royal and follow the same generic reasons the rest of the field is gonna spout off as to why they’re gonna show up at Next Level. I’m not coming just to cash a check. I’m not gonna stand around the ring to get exposure and maybe get another sucker in the crowd to buy some merchandise. I’m not stepping in the ring to prove myself to anybody, because I’ve proven just how damn good I am every time I’ve stepped into the ring! I’m coming to Atlantis this week to prove a point. I’m coming to prove that I’m on a-whole-nother level than these chumps. That I am above having to slum it with jokers like Nighttime Horrors, A pair of wannabe freaks who have been spending too much time in clearance section of Hot Topic. Horror and Nighttime, after seeing how my brothers in the Awakening swatted the two of you like flies, I’m surprised that there’s still enough left for me to pick up and heave over the top rope the pair of garbage bags you are! You’re so spooky, fucking Snoopy dressed in Easter bunny ears is scarier than the two you combined. You know you two have be the exception to the rule about their being strength in numbers, because the two of you combined couldn’t equal a tenth of what I am inside the ring, what’s more I didn’t need to play a reject from the nightmare before Christmas for people to recognize me for what I could do in the ring.

I’m above gimmicks like Devi the she-wolf. Blood wolf this,blood wolf that. I mean how the hell does some dumb bitch pretending to be a ware wolf get offered a contract in the first place? Let alone challenge for a goddamn world championship before a wrestler of my skill? If you ever needed proof that contender rankings are bullshit and the only way you actually rise up is kissing ass than look no further than Devi. I mean that must’ve been the real reason she got anywhere near Moongoose Because she can’t wrestle for shit, and every word she speaks is more pointless than the last, just look at her last two promos which did nothing but she waste ten minutes of our collective lives which we’ll never get back. Devi is the wrestlers that hipsters root for ironically. She’s their little engine that can’t, and that makes her small but vocal group of douchbag jackasses given their pity applause to her all the more. Seriously, the fact that not only does this chick get a title shot, but then I get asked to join this bullshit #justice4Devi nonsense, it pisses me right the fuck off. You’d sooner get Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, and Barack Obama to vote for Donald Trump than for me to back this shit stain on the sport of Professional Wrestling. The same stain I am gonna take great pleasure in scraping off the bottom of my shoe across the canvas. “Oh but she’s a real bad ass because she has those underground fights.” Sounds more like she’s so unskilled she has to go around from club to club fighting anyone desperate enough to take 50 dollars in exchange for amass whooping. There’s a world of difference between taking on some jackass off the street who has no training aside from power streaming Cobra Kai, and a world class athlete such as myself who is the product of years in the gym and in the ring, and Devi is gonna learn that difference in a New York minute if her dumb ass is foolish enough to step between the ropes!

I’m better than having my name uttered alongside Cameron Reckless’. Cameron, if I’m not mistaken the last time I saw you In the ring, you got obliterated in less than three minutes, so I guess the bedroom isn’t the only place you leave others disappointed because you Finished quickly. Given that performance I wonder why I should bother to waste any more of my time on your incompetent ass?! I’ll tell you what, I’ll be charitable and explain, very slowly so that you can understand I might add, that all those little kicks, and all the flashy moves, don’t impress me. No what would is being able to do more than stand around like a sitting duck before you get crushed like a tin can. Hell you’re so unimpressive that, if you ever needed proof that producing paper is a waste of trees, look no further than your contract. Goddamn it Cameron, I could do Nothing besides just keep hurling generic insults at you for the next 20 minutes and it would still be too good for someone as miserably apathetic as you, so I’m just gonna move on to next walking traffic cone.

I’m above that Queen of Wolves bitch Nikki Khan. Wolvesden, his is this still a thing? I remember that shit being played out 2 years ago, but somehow Kenny Drake has managed to rope in a new crop of dipshits into his little jackass brigade. The only thing worst than falling for Ken’s pyramid scheme, is fooling yourself into thinking you’re something more than just another patsy for the son of bitch. Nikki, I know I might be a little tough to accept than you are, and have never been anything more, than Kenny’s bottom bitch. Now I can just hear the cries of hypocrite being tossed my way, but see where you and me differ Nikki is that I’m not deluding myself. Nathan wants followers for his church, fine I’ll play along and give him what he want for now. It’s a fair trade off for having him, Eon Blue, and Noah Quinn having my back in a fight. Meanwhile whatever the fuck Kenny is promising you Nikki, I can guarantee it’s total bullshit, trust me I’ve know that snake oil salesman long enough to know that he is nothing more than a leech sucking dry everyone who would give him the time of day. And here you are waving your little Wolvesden flag around for the whole world to see... just how gullible you are. You know something Nikki, as much as you got it in the talent department, you don’t have the brains to back it all up. Sure you had great moments in the past, but what have you done lately is always the name of the game, And if you think that barely beating some no name bitch who belongs with the rest of the bargain bin wrestlers in this match impresses me think again. Nikki the fact that you have to lean on the Kenny Drake crutch just speaks volumes about not only about how weak minded you are, but your as unsure of yourself as the rest locker room. Let me put it to you like this, in that ring you’re not in your little wolf den. You are in an ocean doing your best doggy paddle not to drown, all the while you got a great white shark coming to tear you into pieces. Nikki, I’m glad you had your little confidence boost victory last week, it makes it more fun when my opponent think they actually stood a chance of winning.

Oh and let’s not forget about Maelstrom. The dude who hides behind his wife’s skirt half the time because it’s painfully obvious that she has bigger balls than he does. I mean the last time we were in a battle royal, this mother fucker thought he had everything in had, and then got flipped out of the ring by a chick who weighs 90 pound soaking wet. You know what I take back the things I said about Nikki Khan being weak minded, she’s fucking Einstein compared to your dumber than dirt ass! But I get it, you’re a big bad dude, and you’re really strong, and you’re the gothic goth who probably gets a chubby whenever he hears moonlight sonata because he’s a freak like that. Son, to me you’re just another dude waaaayyyyy overcompensating for the fact before you started injecting, you were getting shoved in lockers and having your head stuffed in toilets. Pal here’s some free advice, your act might intimidate 8 year olds, and impress peons, but to me your unpolished ass is just another gimmick trying to carve out a niche spot on the roster till everybody else figures out what I already know. You’re a dude who probably watched that castlevania cartoon a few too many times, and would definitely be better off letting his wife do the wrestling for him. I’m not some mark off the street, I’ve been beaten, I’ve bled, I’ve been set on fire and quite literally been blown up. There is nothing you could do to me that’s worst than what I’ve already been through. So before you launch into one of your long, boring, drawn out, and utterly meaningless marathon rambles, do everyone including yourself a favor, AND SHUT THE FUCK UP!

And as for the rest of the bottom feeders in this match, I would go on and point out just how every single one of you can’t measure up to a man like me, but I frankly have better things to do. So I’ll make all of you a deal, keep your mouths shut, and I won’t have to rip you to shreds before I kick all your asses. Everyone understand? Good.

And as for Tarah, I’m gonna remember this. I’m gonna think back to the moment you got me booked on this bullshit, kiddie table show, and remember it as the day you proved your word wasn’t worth shit! You promised me that I would have opportunity, you promised me that you wouldn’t squander my talent like it had been for the last four years. You promised me that there were no politics and that getting ahead meant you were the best in the ring. I’m gonna remember that last one especially because you got me in this battle royal doing nothing but killing time, and you got your husband in a spot to rob Nathan of his title match. Funny how the guys who have a problem with Nas, are the ones that are getting screwed right? Well if you keep screwing us, don’t be surprised what comes next, because you sure as hell don’t want to get into a holy war with Nathan Fiora, and you don’t want to get into a war with me. So you better start showing me the proper respect, because I’m not gonna ask nicely again.”

Hmm Perhaps I'll order Chai coffee takeout for Niki Khan and for Josie Grey too. Think of it as a token of saving me and Vebbins at Odyssey 50.

See now, I bet you were all expecting things to open up with some sort of banter and interactions for a bit between myself and young Nero Darkbringer, but no. I don’t have time for that. I’ve got a potential six dangerous men to prepare myself for in about a week’s time. Well….I say six. It’s realistically five dangerous adversaries and one Living Chode. And hey, why not just jump right into things. No need for further exposition. And I guess as to not confuse the ill informed, I will use his actual name this one time just so everyone is aware of whom I am referring to. Nathan Fiora is a bitch ass mutherfucker and I cannot wait until Game Over has passed so I can be done with him forever. Anyways. Let’s actually talk about the Living Chode and myself shall we? Because we actually have quite the extensive history over the years. As those of you who were around in those days know, our little crew known as the Golden Mafia consisted of quite a few noteworthy names. Myself, Aren Mstislav, Kenny Drake, and Carson Ramsay were the starting members. But quickly enlisted with us were Aria Jaxon, The Newcomer Keelan Callihan (or Cetinich back then) and One Nathan Fiora. And I mean sure he was a bit annoying at times back then, but for the most part he was a cool ass dude and we got along quite well. We propped each other up, always stood by one another, repped each other when the time called for it. We were boys. But then The Living Chode started to come out more and more as he gained more clout and influence. Being as close as he was to powerful individuals such as Scott Oasis and Tarah Nova did not help in keeping that ego in check either. We’re arguably talking about the guy who made the absolute most with the absolute least when it comes to having a career over the years with a healthy list of accomplishments and accolades. Before I even dive into the recent events between Chode Boi and myself, I just need to get this off my chest. You could not possibly find two more DIFFERENT individuals with opposite ideals in this industry nowadays than myself and Living Chode. You’d be hard pressed searching all over the damn scene. I cannot fucking stand this guy. What an insufferable little twat with such a punchable face, smug attitude, the smarmiest little piece of shit you could ever find roaming this world! But because he has connections and developed some semblance of a following over the years, he’s remained a consistent tumor within our community and a constant headache for me to periodically have to deal with. We’re talking about a man with a twisted sense of reality, let alone a twisted sense of morality. And somehow Living Chode here has the nerve to tell me that I am not someone people would like to see championing this brand at the helm?! YET YOU ARE?! SIKE BITCH! You fuckin thought! Lisen fucboi, I’m only gonna say this once and once alone. Then I am NEVER. ADDRESSING. IT. AGAIN. YOU ARE NOT A DEITY OF ANY FUCKING KIND! You’re not a prophet. You’re not Jesus Christ. You’re NONE OF THAT SHIT! YOU ARE A SIMPLE MAN WHO’S PSYCHE LITERALLY SHATTERED IN AN ATTEMPT TO COPE WITH THE FACT THAT YOU WOULD FOREVER BE A CAREER LOSER! Not like me. Someone who took his licks properly, dusted myself off, got back up from all of my hardships, and kept tackling them head on until I overcame them and came out better for it! YOU MANIPULATE WEAK MINDED AND WEAK WILLED INDIVIDUALS INTO DOING YOUR GRUNT WORK TO MAKE UP FOR THE FACT THAT YOU NEVER WILL HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO GET THE JOB DONE THE PROPER WAY! YOU BACKDOOR YOUR WAY INTO POSITIONS! Me? I have too much honor and pride to stoop to those kinds of lows. Oh and I also have these other two things known as a pair of BALLS! Something I’m sure you’ve never seen from yourself before Chode boi. Everything that I ever did for the Friday Night Olympus Brand, for the Omega Wrestling Alliance, for the entire Business of Professional Wrestling, was to make it a better place for EVERYBODY IN IT! But then you have different examples of individuals trying to halt that hard earned progress and abuse it for their own selfish gain. You have monsters like derelict who are only bent on destruction. You have madmen like Nate Cage who simply seek to cause chaos and misery regardless of anything else happening around him. You have egomaniacs like Keelan Callihan who will do everything in their power to hoard every beautiful asset of this industry to themselves, and you have men like Jacob Senn, guys who simply wish to hold this industry hostage so it cannot progress any further into the future and desire to sit upon the thrones of power forever! Darkane? Well he’s kind of a hybrid between Cage and Derelict. And as for you Living Chode, you are exactly like Keelan but somehow WORSE! That’s why watching all of you banter at one another has been in a way, hilarious from my vantage point. Because you’re all evils that need to be brought down the way I see things. 

Anyways Chode, let’s hurry up and fast forward to modern events. Your first mistake a few weeks ago was comparing the two of us. As if we belonged in the same category as one another. I may be a confident son of a bitch, but I know who I am superior to and who I’m not. And you unfortunately Mr. Chode are in the long list of people I know I can defeat! Anytime you want a reminder lesson in the pecking order just name the time and place, and it seems the decision was made for Game Over 2020. There is no mission from god in all of this. There is no divine fate. No sacred task to be completed. None of that bullshit. This is a very simple affair Chode Boi. Two men settling a beef. One that you started by having your mislead goons assault me. And one that I will finish by going through hell and high water to the other side! EVEN IF I HAVE TO RUN THROUGH EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU BASTARDS BY MY LONESOME, I WILL! IF FOR NO OTHER REASON...THAN TO CLIMB OUT INTO THE AUDIENCE! WITH MY PEOPLE! AND PROUDLY PROCLAIM THAT THE MAN WHO BUILT THIS BRAND IS BACK IN FULL EFFECT AND IS READY TO RECLAIM WHAT WAS ONCE HIS AND VERY EASILY COULD BE AGAIN! AND THAT NO MAN, MONSTER, OR “PROPHET” WILL STOP ME GOD DAMMIT! But as far as that is all concerned. I’ve said my peace for the time being on ol’ Chodester. So how’s about we move on to the real main event where I’m confident I will end up by the end of the proceedings of Game Over. And why not start with the man, or behemoth of the hour himself. The mountain of a champion. The Derelict. First off. I would like to thank you Mr. Derelict for having more than enough braincells like most people to know that Chode boi’s antics are idiotic and have no place being involved in the Heavyweight Championship. Second I’d like to thank you for beating the SHIT out of him on the last Olympus. OH MY GOD WAS THAT SATISFYING TO WATCH! And third, I would like to thank you for the endorsement, even though I realize it’s only coming from a place of you being able to raise your own stock as champion further. But the simple fact of the matter is that you are certainly correct on one thing Champ. I am the last vestige of the original Friday Night Olympus standing ready to fight you. Well...not exactly, but I’ll address that other individual in a bit. Anyways Derelict. The way you described me is...how I would certainly like to always describe myself my good sir. I am glad that you get it. The Alpha of OWA, The Last Paragon, The Old Stalwart, and my personal favorite: The Last Great Gunslinger. Truly an honor to be recognized by the current champion in such a way. I also must humbly thank you for your very unique way of saying that if you are going to put me down. You will strike me down face to face, man to man. Straight up. Most of the others in contention right now wouldn’t dare to say such a thing to me. Yet here you are Derelict. I respect the territory and legacy that you have built for yourself since coming to the Omega Wrestling Alliance. I’d be forced to even if I didn’t naturally. But trust me. You may be the greatest monster I’ve ever been faced with, but I’ve slain my fair share of beasts in the past. I know what it takes to get the job done. This ain’t my first rodeo. And this is certainly not my first time competing for world championship gold in such chaotic and barbaric constructs with a multitude of maniacal madmen hunting for my head. When I defeat The Living Chode and honorably EARN my place in the ThunderDome match, regardless of my condition by that point. I am coming to fight, and I am coming to TAKE. YOUR. CHAMPIONSHIP. TITLE. I do not have any other options. Failure will NOT be tolerated. If I can’t win the big one this one last time, then what is even the point of me still being here today? What is my place in this industry if I cannot still be a champion? Why even bother continuing to compete at all if I cannot overcome one Monster?

...Although I guess it’s more than a monster because I’ve also got a Graveworm on my hands. And I’m just going to open up with this one. Listen up you fucking 90s grunge bastard piece of SHIT! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU BRING MY WIFE AND KIDS INTO THIS ONE! They have nothing to do with this match. They have nothing to do with this situation. And they’ll have nothing to do with the hell that I am going to bring upon YOU the first chance I get inside of the ThunderDome Darkane! You know I figured you wouldn’t have to use the basic ass “LeT’s TaRgEt HiS fAmIlY aNd ThE fAcT tHaT hE’s OlD” shit! Yet here you are being no better than everyone else around you. Ya know, I figured a guy who’s been undefeated against me ever since 2017 would have thought up more original material than this. I mean sure you said it in a dark and brooding way, and that’s cool to like four people. But I mean guy...really? You could have elaborated a bit more on the actual factual points you had about defeating me. But instead you decided to be all EDGY and BADASS by targeting my family and shit. Nice try jackass. Next time bring your A-Game. But there is one thing I wanna touch a bit deeper on. This idea of my “time being up”. Nobody in this entire multiverse gets to dictate that other than yours truly. No man, woman, monster, worm, devil, punisher, killer, prophet, OR ANYBODY ELSE DEAD OR ALIVE GETS TO TELL ME WHEN IT’S TIME FOR ME TO HANG UP THE BOOTS! THAT IS MY JUDGEMENT CALL AND MY JUDGEMENT CALL ONLY! I still move like I did when I was in my 20s. I can still pull off all the breathtaking maneuvers I was able to in my younger years. If anything as a performer I have only improved due to my far superior mind for this business than when I was a schmuck rookie. Trust me, when that realization sets in for me that the time has come, then I will be the very first one to inform the entire world and everyone in it whether they care or not. But you Mr. Darkane, you have no say nor any business even thinking that you know about when the sands of time have cast judgement upon me. But trust, for those slick ass comments about my wife, son, and daughter...you better PRAY to an actual deity and not the Living Chode that by some sort of miracle he happens to get by me off of some fluke bullshit Darkane. Because if the obvious occurs and I swiftly defeat him, then YOU! WILL! FEEL! MY! WRATH! But let’s just keep on pushing shall we? I see Nate Cage and Keelan Callihan still spouting the same tired dumb shit they’ve been saying ever since I last heard from either one of them. Whether it’s Nate Cage being yet another delusional fuckhead yelling into the void about that “All you old guys are tired and done for and only I can push this business into the future and help it further evolve into what it needs to be” bullshit. And Keelan STILL bragging about defeating me WITH MAJOR ASSISTANCE FROM ZAIBATSU in that three stages of hell match that I ‘could’ expand upon far further, but as to maintain some form of integrity to Keelan’s core character, I won’t even go there. All I really have to say to those two is I hope they are able to back up everything they both CONSTANTLY SAY! The shit that continuously spews from their mouths. PLEASE DON’T JUST TALK ABOUT IT GENTS! COME GAME OVER 2020 BE ABOUT IT! I WANT TO SEE YOU BOTH PULL UP ON ME AND TAKE ME BEYOND MY LIMITS IN THE HOPES OF DESTROYING MY ASPIRATIONS AND KILLING OFF THE HOPES AND DREAMS OF EVERY PERSON WHO DESIRES TO BREAK PAST THEIR NORMAL GLASS CEILINGS IN LIFE AND SHATTER ALL OF REALITY’S EXPECTATIONS FOR THEM! BECAUSE I MADE A DECADE LONG CAREER OUT OF DOING THAT AT EVERY SINGLE TURN POSSIBLE! AND I PROMISE YOU I CAN DO IT VERY EASILY! Don’t just write me off because of any former cheap victories you have over me...KEELAN! Or don’t throw me aside because my “old” bones will be worn out from another match already...CAGE! I’ll defeat The Living Chode and still have more than enough energy to go all out inside of the ThunderDome, I FUCKING GUARANTEE IT! August 12 or August 13th. Doesn’t matter which day. Doesn’t matter the time of day. It’s all the same to me. I will show up to The Yankee Stadium and give the people of Bronx, New York a one man performance like they have NEVER SEEN BEFORE! THOSE PEOPLE WILL LOOK AT ME AS IF I AM PRIME JETER THE WAY I’LL CONTINUOUSLY PUSH MYSELF BEYOND MY BEST TO REACH THE END GOAL OF BEING OMEGA HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE WORLD REGARDLESS OF THE BATTERED, BRUISED, AND BLOODIED MESS I’LL BE BY THE END OF IT! WHY?! BECAUSE THAT IS THE LEVEL OF HEART AND DEDICATION I HAVE TO THE BUSINESS OF OWA, THE INDUSTRY OF PRO WRESTLING, AND ALL OF THE FANS WHO STILL STAND BY ME AND WHAT I BELIEVE IN FOR ALL OF THIS TO THIS VERY DAY!

And that only leaves one. Of course I had to save this one for the very end. I’m sure I will end up expanding upon the others more later one but I MUST address the one million ton elephant in the room right here and right now. Both Jacob Senn and I could be in this matchup. The man that waged endless war with me between the years of 2017 to 2019. Our battles are what helped shape The Blue Brand Friday Night Olympus into what it is today. Truth be told...it is very different from the way I last left it, but that is perfectly fine to me. I perform at my best when I am backed against a wall and dealing with the unknown. Hence why I am not sweating facing individuals such as The Derelict and Nate Cage. And as for men like Darkane, Keelan Callihan, The Living Chode, and most especially Jacob Senn...well it’s just another day in the office now ain’t it? Been there done that. I know they’re all different in some way, shape, or form from the versions of them I last fought, but that’s what I love about Pro Wrestling! IT’S EVER GROWING, EVER CHANGING, EVER EVOLVING! I MEAN JUST LOOK AT THE JACOB SENN AND NAS THAT FOUGHT IN 2017, THE JACOB SENN AND NAS WHO FOUGHT IN 2018, THE JACOB SENN AND NAS WHO FOUGHT IN 2019, AND THE JACOB SENN AND NAS WHO WILL FIGHT COMING UP HERE SOON IN 2020! And this is not just contained simply to the Omega Wrestling Alliance either. In WrestleWorld, Senn is the current Shogun Champion. The Champion of the division I happen to be a part of in WrestleWorld. WE CANNOT ESCAPE EACH OTHER NO MATTER HOW MUCH TIME PASSES! SOME WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM, THE UNIVERSE WILL PULL SENN AND I TOGETHER AND FORCIBLY LOCK US INTO COMBAT INSIDE OF THE SQUARED CIRCLE SOMEWHERE! IT’S NEVER A MATTER OF ‘IF’ WE WILL FIGHT! BUT SIMPLY ‘WHEN’! And the time has already come for 2020 Senny boi. Now in case y’all haven’t noticed, Jacob and I have pulled a bit of the old roll reversal time and time again. And in our current incarnations we’re more or less back to where we started with one another back in the fall of 2017 when we crossed paths for the very first time. Myself being the lawful hero fighting against all the odds to proudly showcase his sense of justice and morality to the world. And on the other side, you have the power-hungry borderline paranoid punisher, with his own dark brand of justice he wishes to dole out at his own discretion and dictation. Yet there is one HUGE DIFFERENCE! Now the Phantom Troupe is in play once again, and this time they are playing on Jacob Senn’s side of the court and not mine like in 2018. You see, I would like to think that because Senn and I reconciled our differences in 2019, I inducted him into the OWA hall of fame earlier this year, and we became quite respectful and cordial towards one another in the meantime that I won’t have to worry about that. That Jacob won’t let the past creep back out once again and just allow one book that had its proper ending to stay ended. As in hopefully, those PT Shenanigans do NOT occur during the ThunderDome after I am added to it after thoroughly triumphing over The Living Chode. Jacob please don’t let it come to that, because then we would most certainly have to reopen this book of ours and add a whole new chapter to it that in my opinion, is not really necessary. I suppose my final peace to all of you is this. And let me use all of your names so that you all hear and slash or read this part very carefully. The Derelict, Jacob Senn, Keelan Callihan, Nate Cage, Darkane, The Living Chode. PLEASE DO NOT CAST ME ASIDE OR WRITE ME OFF FOR ANY MULTITUDE OF REASONS THAT YOU COULD POSSIBLY COME UP WITH IN THIS MATCHUP! BECAUSE THE ENTIRE WORLD KNOWS THAT I PERFORM MY GREATEST WORK WHEN I’M DOWN IN THE CLUTCH! I AM A MIRACLE WORKER BABEY! And defeating six of the brand’s most formidable forces spread throughout two matches, one of them being a structure thought up by Satan himself, I assure you that specifications I just listed more than me the criterias for Miracle Work. Consider the Omega Heavyweight Championship a late birthday gift to me bois. 35 years young, 10 years in the game, and still goin strong!