9/4/11 SNV

[primetime]

The scene opens up with the crowd cheering! Strobe lights shift from left to right within the sea of fans as they wave and shout their support for the Asylum! A series of fireworks emit next from the stage area as “Highway to Hell” by AC/DC begins to play. After a few more glimpses of the fans, the feed pans to ringside where we see Rock Gibson and Sidney Long. Each man holds a headset upon his brow.

Gibson: Welcome to another exciting episode of Sunday Night Vengeance! I am Rock Gibson!

Long: -and I am the one you all have truly come to see, Sidney Long.

Gibson: Tonight, we have the fall out from our most recent pay per view, Scars and Stripes! The Asylum was happy to report that the ppv shattered all previous rating records and THAT.. is a good thing! We crowned a new Hardkore Champion in Immanuel Taylor while the other two title holders managed to hold on to theirs respectively.

Long: Oh come on, give credit where credit is due. TITAN was glorious at the show as he dismantled that good for nothing Chris Sabora! Long live the champion!

Gibson: That long live theory will be tested son as this years Royal Rumble winner, Brett Cross, stands to challenge his reign as champion. Add Maynard Hetfield, the other number one contender, and we have a war set to begin brewing!

The lights dim down immediately as the fans begin to stir. “Right Now” by Korn begins to play as the fans stand up and begin to boo loudly! Mixed in the boos, cheers can also be heard. Fireworks spew out from the stage area as Barry Jordan appears!

Gibson: Why are they cheering for TITAN and Jordan?! I don’t get it.

Long: They recognize a legend. That’s why.

Jordan walks down the ramp way and walks up the metal steps. He then accepts a microphone and smiles to the fans in attendance.

Jordan: Ladies and Gentlemen of the arena, today is a special day! YOU’RE HERO… THE MAN WHOM YOU ALL HAVE COME TO SEE… has been triumphant.

Gibson: Oh brother..

The fans continue to boo and cheer.

Jordan: Our World Champion, the mighty TITAN, defeated a man whom most felt was a sure thing to win the title back. Once again, TITAN has shown the world just how skillful he is in this ring, as he continues to represent this company without peer! Ladies and Gentlemen… THE MONSTER.. AND STILL WORLD CHAMPION… TITAN!

The theme song continues once again as TITAN walks out unto the stage with the World Title slung over his shoulder. He stares out at the fans for a moment until he makes his way down the ramp way and to the ring. Stepping up the stairs, he stops a moment to glare out at the viewer before entering the ring and readjusting the world title once more. The mixture of cheers and boos continue as TITAN looks confused. He then rips the microphone out of Jordan’s hand and yells!

TITAN: SHUT UP! DON’T CHEER FOR ME!

The crowd begins to boo loudly now.

TITAN: That’s right. Don’t you fucking dare cheer for me. Where were you all when I was coming up the ranks? You all booed me then and I will be DAMNED if that shit changes now! NO ONE gets a free ride with the TITAN express! I got this far on my own and I will do the rest the same way! What you all can do is cheer for your pansy ass hero, Chris Sabora! He needs it about now!

The fans are booing real loud now, throwing debris into the ring.

TITAN: I told you I would break his ass again.. And I did. I AM THE WORLD CHAMPION! That will never change. You can throw together a royal rumble full of half assed challengers and it won’t matter one bit! THERE IS NO ONE WHO CAN DEFEAT ME! NO ONE!!!!

The fans are booing at an ear piercing pitch now as the arena shakes under the pressure.

TITAN: To tell you the truth, I am getting bored around here. You see, I don’t have the stamina to stick around and keep facing these retards. You all come out and boo me, but you also want to see me kills these idiots just as much as I want to. So cut the shit. Prestige will be a damn joke. Then again, facing the men I will stand in the ring with is a better alternative than to face another broken legend of the past with no damn hope of defeating me. I mean, at least Cross and Luck will pose a challenge. I like challenges. As a matter of fact… I HUNGER FOR THEM!!

Explosions rock the stage area as Brett Cross bolts through to the ring! The fans are a mixture of boos and cheers for him now as he quickly climbs up the skirt and steps over the top rope, the Lionheart Title in his grasp.

TITAN: What? Am I supposed to be impressed by our resident Lionfuck champ? Isn’t that the title that they hand out to the loser who is just good enough to play second fiddle to me?!

Cross steps towards TITAN now, not amused at all. TITAN responds by shoving the World Title in to Jordan’s chest, and answering the gesture in kind!

TITAN: WHAT?! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GOING TO DO?! I know you remember what happened to you last time. I believe you took a trip.. Through the ring.. Like my bitch.

Cross: Aye, I remember it well. I remember the pain I felt as I laid there as well. I swore to my self that the mighty Cross will never make that fatal mistake again. Before my eyes, I see a worthy challenger in you… but nothing more than that. I will rid you of that World Title, and banish you as I have countless others! YOU WILL FALL BEFORE A KING!

TITAN begins to laugh now as he looks at Barry Jordan.

TITAN: Can you believe this guy, Barry? He thinks he is a King now. Well mister King.. I have beaten them all. Machines, Outlaws, Vipers… rednecks.. You name it. Add your fucking name to my list if you want. You don’t scare me one bit. As a matter of fact, why wait? Let’s just do it right now! I got time!

TITAN rips his shirt off as the fans cheer in anticipation. Cross removes his trench coat… as Mark Rivera walks out unto the stage! Fans boo louder than ever at the site of him.

Rivera: Wait.. Wait just one minute! There will be no fighting tonight. Brett, you are the Lionheart champion, and until that is settled, there will be no title shot for you!

Gibson: WHAT? HE WON THE RUMBLE!!

The fans boo now as Cross looks in Rivera’s direction.

Cross: Fine. There is only one prize that is worthy of a King! Cross has no need for this championship then!

Cross suddenly tosses the Lionheart Championship out of the ring! Both men stare at one another one more time, ready to go at it!

Rivera: It isn’t that easy, Brett. You two will square off.. With Mister Luck.. At Prestige in a Triple Threat match for the World Championship…. Not tonight. I want you both out of my ring and out of my arena for the night to cool off. No one will ruin my pay per view! Brett, I will see that the Lionheart Championship finds a more.. Grateful .. Owner..

The fans are booing loudly now as TITAN begins to smile.

TITAN: You heard the man, Cross. Get the fuck out of here. You will get your beat down soon enough.

Cross: I wait for that day, TITAN. This defeat shall be yours..

The scene fades out as the two men stare at one another.

[primetime]

Singles Match
Standard Rules
Isamu Suzuki vs. Dante Essick

Walt: The following match is scheduled for one fall! Coming to the ring first, Isamu Suuuuuuuuuzuki!

"RISING" hits the speakers, opening with the drums. The lights start flashing around the crowd as the shamisen start playing over the speaker systems, but still no competitor. At twenty seconds, in place of the usual "He" for the song, Isamu's voice echos across the speakers with a "EYAH!" The song continues as normal as Isamu sprints out onto the stage, full of energy. He waits there only a moment before sprinting down to the ring, sliding in under the bottom rope. He hops up onto the top rope and lets out a battle cry to get him pumped up for battle before hopping down and stretching for the match.

Gibson: There is the newcomer, Isamu Suzuki! Tonight seems to be a night for the next generation because as I look at the card, I see nothing but new faces really!

Long: Don’t fear change, Rock!

Walt: And his opponent.. Dante Essiiiiiiiick!

The uncompromising beat and quick-fire lyrics of "Shadowboxin'" begin to hit over the stereo as Dante steps out to a mixed chorus of jeers and cheers - mostly the latter, but the former exist. In any case, he soon begins to confidently step down towards the ring, high-fiving any willing fans he can find - and a couple of unwilling ones - before moving his silly ass between the ropes in a quick spinning movement. He gives a couple of waves at the crowd before slinking towards his appointed corner, cracking his neck to one side and quickly assuming an appropriate position for the battle soon to come.

Gibson: Another new name! This is exciting! We could be looking at future hall of famers here! Let’s get to the action!

The bell rings. Both men circle one another. Finally, a lock up. The weight of power shifts back and forth a moment until Essick gains control with a side headlock. Suzuki does his best to break free but Essick clamps it on tightly. After a free brief moments, Suzuki manages to shove Essick to the ropes. Suzuki then drops to the mat, along Essick to hop over his body. Essick hit’s the rope once again only find his arm hooked by the now standing Suzuki! Essick counters this though by swinging a wild clothesline at Suzuki, one that Suzuki easily ducks under and follows up with a DDT! Essick hit’s the mat as Suzuki falls down for the pin!

1..
Essick kicks out!

Gibson: Very nice moves by Suzuki here. I love the agility in this man.

Long: I agree. Though if you ask me they both are a waste of time.

Essick shakes off the cobwebs as Suzuki gets back behind him. Suzuki then runs at Essick and uses a snap mare, sending Essick to the mat hard. Suzuki seems to be completely in control and he wastes no time to continue the fight. Suzuki grabs Essick and attempts to lock in the Koji Clutch but Essick reacts fast, kicking Suzuki away and to the floor forcefully! Essick quickly shakes off the cobwebs and meets Suzuki in the middle of the ring! Both men exchange blows and kicks, showcasing their striking as the fans eat it up! Essick elbows Suzuki, causing him to stumble backwards, and then he performs the Meia Lua Pulada! Suzuki falls to the mat but manages to maintain his composure with a roll out to his feet once again! Essick leaps into the air with a drop kick, nailing Suzuki in the chest perfectly!

Gibson: Look at the aerial ability of Suzuki, very nice! He is a quick one!

Long: Good. Maybe he could quickly end this match then before I fall asleep.

Gibson: [Sighing] Damn.. Not another Xplode on my hands..

Still in control, Essick grabs a handful of Suzuki’s hair and bulldog’s him to the mat! Hopping on his back, Essick performs the Wolf’s claw, or tries to until Suzuki drives his elbow into the face of Essick, breaking up the hold!

Before Essick can get back in the fight, Suzuki is back on his feet! Essick meets him there, swinging a wild clothesline. Suzuki ducks, comes up behind him, and locks in the Mouyuu! Essick struggles but falls out unconscious!

Walt: Your winner by submission, Isamu Suzuki!

Suzuki holds on to the hold a second longer, and then releases his opponent as the ref raises his hand!

Gibson: Impressive victory for the rookie!

Long: Indeed, I can’t wait to see more from this man..

[primetime]

The scene opens as we see flashbacks to Scars and Stripes! Oblivion and Mister Luck are going at it in the ring, taking each other on in a titanic showdown!

flashback: Luck remains down a moment, holding his neck in agony. Oblivion is still seated as he breathes heavily. With the fans at a fever pitch.. Both men begin to rise to their feet once again! There is no giving up for the two men at all! The fans applaud them both equally as Luck flops against the ropes in exhaustion! Oblivion leans in to a turnbuckle across the way! Shaking off the cobwebs.. Luck walks into the center of the ring, taunting Oblivion to punch him on the chin! Obi shakes his head in frustration as he walks towards luck! Xplode looks at both men and smiles, enjoying the carnage! As both Luck and Oblivion stare at one another, the fans go wild.. And both men suddenly explode with punches!!

The scene changes again, and we see the finale to the epic match!

Flashback: Luck struggles as his arms flail about! Oblivion holds on to the submission hold as he applies the Dirt Nap! The crowd is shown screaming as Luck’s eyes roll backward! His hands droop low. Oblivion wrenches the move on tighter…. Luck is out cold!!

Walt: The winner of this match.. OBLIVION!!

The scene then switches to after the match as Oblivion is shown not moving at all! Medical crews are tending to him as he remains upon his back.

Flashback: Gibson: Oblivion has won the match! Yet, he is not moving! Something is wrong with him? The Big Dog has been hurt somehow, he gave his all and that may have been too much! Is this the last that we see of Oblivion?! Have we witnessed the last moments of the most influential warrior of our time?!!

The scene shows Oblivion slowly being helped up the ramp way…

Flashback: Long: I have never seen Oblivion look so… Mortal…. Mortal…. Mortal……

The scene fades out.

An office is shown with Mark Rivera seated at the desk. He has a phone pressed to his ear as the fans boo loudly..

Rivera: Xplode… I don’t have time for this right now. I have a show to run and important matters to tend to… FINE!… I will come out at the end of the main event! You better have something that I want to hear, do you hear me? I held up my end of the bargain and I expect you to do the same… tonight.

[primetime]

Singles Match
Standard Rules
Brandon Young vs. Roman Cripate

"You must die! I alone am best!"

[The opening chords of The Bloodhound Gang's "I hope you die" begin to play over the PA as clips of random acts of destruction play over the tron in tune to the frenetic pace of the song. Cars crash into each other, planes fall from the sky, ships sink, bombs explode, riots ensue, and more.]

[Just before the lyrics kick in and the song changes tempo, Brandon Young bounces out onto the stage. He is wearing whatever random custom t-shirt he feels like that night, and black pants with the same design running down the sides, but with "Y O U N G G U N" written down each side, with the G and N of the "GUN" written above and below the U in YOUNG making a cross shape, in fiery gold font.]

Walt: Introducing first! From San Dimas, California; weighing in at two-hundred and twenty pounds… BRANDON YOUNG!

[As the song keep playing Brandon bounces seemingly in tune with the song from one side of the stage to the other, getting the crowd worked up before stopping in the middle of the stage, throwing his hands high in the air with his left hand as sparks rain down on him from above. He looks out the crowd, and then runs down the ramp into the ring. He hops onto the nearest turnbuckle and soaks in the cheers. Then he jumps down, pulls off his shirt and gets ready for battle.]

Gibson: Brandon Young faces his first one-on-one bout in EUW here tonight.

Long: That's right, and he's sure to be in for a stern test against a man who impressed everyone in the recent Royal Rumble...

“Afterlife” by Avenged Sevenfold begins to play as the big screen shows footage of the Orlando skyline before breaking into a montage of Roman Cripate in action. Bursting from behind the curtain Roman pauses at the top for a moment and pans the crowd before trotting down the ramp and slapping a few young fans hands before reaching the bottom of the ramp and sliding into the ring.

Walt: His opponent! From Orlando, Florida; weighing in at two-hundred pounds… ROMAN CRIPATE!

Gibson: This should be a good one!

Both men are ready and as soon as the referee calls for the bell, the two men approach one another and lock horns in a collar and elbow tie-up. It's an evenly matchd battle but Young eventually manages to back Cripate into a corner turnbuckle. Young connects with a quick forearm smash before whipping Cripate into the opposite corner. He then charges at his opponent, but Cripate raises an elbow which connects flush in the jaw. As Young staggers back, Cripate attacks with a Clothesline, but Young ducks the attempted strike, before grabbing Cripate from behind and locking in a Sleeper Hold. Cripate tries to fight this off by backing Young hard into the turnbuckles, but Young resists and maintains his hold. So Cripate then changes his tactic. He manages to turn around and leans into Young as he walks up the turnbuckles, before pushing backwards and forcing Young to the mat. With his opponent down and the hold released, Cripate quickly sits on his opponent's chest and grabs his legs, pulling them back into a pin.

1...
Young kicks out!

Both men get to their feet and Cripate goes for another Clothesline. However, Young ducks again, and with his opponent's back turned he rolls Cripate up!

1...
Cripate kicks out!

Again the two men rush to their feet, but this time Cripate is quickest to react, taking Young into another pinning predicament with a Small Package!

1...
2...
Young kicks out!

Both men get to their feet and end their exchange in a standoff as the fans show their appreciation.

Gibson: A great opening exchange there by these two men, who appear to be very evenly matched.

Long: Something has got to give eventually...

The opponents approach one another looking to lock horns again. However, Young clearly has no intention of that as he takes a uick shortcut with a knee to Cripate's gut! Young grabs Cripate by the arm and whips him off into the ropes, but as his opponent rebounds back and Young goes for a boot, Cripate slides along the mat and under his feet! As Young stands stunned, Cripate grabs him from behind and sets up for a Back Suplex. However, Young fights Cripate off with stiff elbows back into his face, before grabbing Roman in a Three Quarter Facelock - and then performs a standing flip before pulling Cripate down into a Backstabber!

Long: And there it is! Brandon Young with a move he likes to call the "Stop, Drop, and DIE!"

Gibson: And what a devastating move it is!

Wasting no time, Young hooks Cripate's leg.

1...
2...
Cripate kicks out!

Looking a little frustrated with the count, Young slowly pulls Cripate up to his feet. However, Cripate shows signs that he isn't done yet, as he mounts a fightback with punches to Young's gut. Young eventually cuts this short with a hammer blow to Cripate's back, before going for an Irish whip into the turnbuckles. However, when Cripate is able to reverse the move, and follows in behing Young, Brandon shows great agility by running up he turnbuckles and leaping back with a Whisper in the Wind - only for Cripate to side-step! And as a dazed Young gets to his feet, Cripate takes full advantage by nailing a stiff Reverse Roundhouse Kick!

Gibson: Wow! That's gotta hurt!

Cripate drops to the mat and makes the cover.

1...
2...
Young kicks out!

Undeterred, Cripate gets to his feet and patiently waits for Young to do the same. Once he does, Cripate nails his opponent with a boot to the gut, before lifting his opponent over his shoulder and then drilling him with the Schwein! However, Cripate hits the move to close to the ropes and before he can go for a cover Young rolls to the outside.

Long: Smart, smart move by Brandon Young there.

Gibson: I can't disagree.

Shaking his head, Cripate walks over to the ropes and measures Young up, before suddenly sling-shotting over the top rope and going for a Hurricanrana - only for Young to block the move! He uses all of his strength to halt Cripate's momentum, before lifting him up into a Power Bomb set-up position - and charging Cripate back first into the ring post! Young then throws Cripate back into the ring, before rolling in behind him and hooking the leg!

1...
2...
Cripate kicks out!

Gibson: Roman Cripate is disaplying some great resiliency here tonight.

Undeterred, Young walks over to the ropes and looks back, waiting for Cripate to get back to his feet. Once he does with his back to Young, Brandon jumps onto the middle rope before backflipping off, and on the way through grabbing Cripate around the neck and drilling his skull with a DDT! Again he makes the pin.

1...
2...
3-
Cripate kicks out!

Long: How close was that!?

Gibson: I don't know but I have no idea how Cripate got his shoulder up.

Young can't help but show his frustration a little now but he keeps his focus on Cripate, stalking his opponent as he struggles to make it to his feet. When Roman finally makes it up, Young rushes to grab him from behind, only for Cripate to lash out with a stiff elbow to the jaw - and then suddenly connect with a Headlock Driver!

Gibson: Where did that come from!? This match hangs in the balance!

The fans cheer for the two men as they both struggle to make it to their feet.

As the crowd cheers in appreciation, Young reaches out for Cripate! Cripate uses the momentum to run to the turnbuckle as he uses his finisher.. The Painful Memories! He then covers for the pin!

1..
2...
Three!


Walt: Your winner.. Roman Cripate!

The fans cheer as Cripate rises to his feet. His intro song kicks on after as we see him ascend a turnbuckle and celebrate.

Long: This makes me sick. All of these costumed superheroes need to head back to whatever Halloween store they sprung out from. Take us to commercial!

[primetime]

Bane: I saw what happened out there! Now, I been giving you all everything I have each and every week! I want my shot at the Lionheart Championship belt! I am obvious the next in line!

The scene opens up as we see Mark Rivera and Bane arguing in his office. Bane is very animated with his arms flailing about. Rivera adjusts his blazer only to place his hands before him defensively.

Rivera: I will take what you say into consideration. For now, please head back to you locker room so I can-

Bane: No. I want an answer out of you. I know how you work, Rivera! I haven’t asked for a thing from you so I feel you owe me!

Rivera: Let’s get this straight.. The only thing I owe you is a paycheck.. And even that is up to me.

The door swings open, revealing Roy Viper! He removes a dark hood from his head and approaches the two men..

Viper: The Lionheart Championship… it’s mine. Cross dropped it. Makes sense to me.

Bane: You have to be kidding me, man. You are in no way in a spot for that belt. That title comes home with me!

Viper: Actions speak louder than words. Maybe you should try to perform some actions for once instead of just running your mouth.

Both men step up to one another.

Rivera: Now gentlemen.. Wait a minute. Not in my office. There is a time and place for-

The crowd cheers as Danny Tenfold enters the room! He glances at Bane and then Viper with a large grin on his face!

Rivera: Let me guess… you want the Lionheart Title as well?

Tenfold: You got it right, Boss. Of course, I am more than willing to fight for it! You know there is no one in this company who brings in the crowds.. Like Danny Tenfold!!

Bane: Or gets their ass kicked regularly.. Like Danny Tenfold

The three of them stare one another down now as Rivera slams his hands down upon a nearby table!

Rivera: ENOUGH! You three have a match tonight, right? Fine. Whoever wins that strap.. Will be the next Lionheart Champion! Happy now? GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!

The scene fades out..

[primetime]

The crowd begins to cheer as Natalie Burrows arrives at the arena. She steps out of the back seat of a cab, only to sling a purse over her shoulder. She nods and smiles at the men around her whom seem to admire her beauty as she enters into the lobby of the arena.

Ashen: Well, hello gorgeous. Where have you been all my life?

Taken by surprise, Burrows turns to her right and catches a glimpse of her newest guest. Shawn Ashen is shown smiling from under a large fedora.

Burrows: Not interested.

She then begins to walk away as Ashen steps further into view.

Ashen: What’s the hurry gorgeous? I mean, if time is money than I am the best person to hang out with!

Burrows stops in her tracks and rolls her eyes in disgust. She then slowly turns around and plays with Ashen’s tie, causing him to smile.

Burrows: Listen, Honey. There isn’t enough money on this planet to get me to hang out with the likes of you. I am here to make a mark and I will do that by throwing my hat in the Lionheart Championship situation. Now, if you will kindly direct me to Mr. Rivera’s office, I would be much obliged.

Ashen: Lionheart championship?! Really?! (Laughing.) You have to be kidding me. Look, I don’t mean to insult you but-

Burrows: Too late.

Ashen: I Will tell you what. We have a match tonight, right? Show me what you are made of. This should be interesting.

Burrows shakes her head.

Burrows: Oh it will be interesting alright. Be careful what you ask for…

The feed then switches to the arena.


The camera cuts to the stage area where “Ticks and Leeches” by Tool suddenly began to play. Some of the crowd stand up, wondering who it is.

Gibson: “Odd..We don’t know of anyone who uses this theme..”

Long: “Well, who would change their theme? A man who has undergone a personal change?”

Gibson: “….Oh, for Gods sake, it isn—“

The curtain is thrown to one side and Mister Luck..or rather, Maynard Hetfield, strolls out, barefooted and carrying a microphone, onto the stage, wearing his wrestling attire with a red jacket over his bare chest. The crowd, recognising the face of the man, began jeering almost instantly, something which heightens in volume when Hetfield swipes his hand across his throat, cutting off the music.

"FUCK YOU, LUCK! FUCK YOU, LUCK! FUCK YOU, LUCK!"

Hetfield:: "Please, spare me your attempts at wit. For many months, I have been referred to as Mister Luck. Well, that ends right here and right now. From this moment, Mister Luck's throat has been cut and his dead body has been dumped in the bottomless void. Before you sits Maynard Hetfield, a man born from a broken family and a man who simply could not care about what is happening at this moment."

The crowd silence somewhat.

Hetfield:: "For months, you people have jeered on me and spat at me, you people have laughed at me and looked down on me. I have heard the words that you people have said behind my back. I have suffered every single moment of disrespect that you people give me. I have watched as you all hold false idols on your shoulders and praise them. I have watched as you all place me lower than the profligates and wastrels of this company, wastrels like Bane, Danny Tenfold, Brandon Young and Stephen Callaway. I have witnessed the horror that is the blackened attitudes and false morals of every single one of you disgusting little bastards.

But I am not going to sit here any longer and point out every single one of your vast weaknesses, nor am I going to sit here and give those bastards in the back the recognition they feed on. I am here to tell you that I am sick of trying to prove that I am above you all, and I am sick of trying to make myself better than all of you. I am here today to tell you all that I am going to be lower than all of you. You people have trodden on me, spat on me, called me a snake, well I am going to start proving that I am a snake. I am going to be the lowest form of life on Earth to you people.

I am going to take your idols, and I am not going to even try winning, no, that would be praising them too much if I even tried to exert any effort to beat them. No, instead I am going to do my best to hurt them. What's the point of trying to win? What's the point of trying to earn respect, when you can earn fear? What is the point of making those scrawny wretches in the back respect me, when I can make them fear me? I will make it so my name is like a corrosive poison on their tongue. I am going to craft a legacy that every single man and women in that Locker Room will want to destroy and make so it never even existed. I am going to make the very face of Maynard Hetfield the sight that makes every single fan, wrestler and crew member alike enraged. My legacy is no longer going to be one of grand prizes or a greatness that will withstand the test of time: My legacy will going to be one of an unfathomable cruelty, a cruelty that will be regarded on the same level as the Assyrian Empire. My legacy will not note the prizes I won, but rather the lives I destroyed and the men and women I crippled.

I'm sick of fighting for prizes. I'm sick of fighting just to even try to prove that I am the best. I don't wish to fight for glory anymore. I don't wish to fight to be regarded as the best anymore. I wish to fight to destroy those who have done me wrong."

The crowd begin to jeer to the heavens now as Hetfield reaches into his inside jacket pocket, pulling out a kidney flask and unscrewing the top.

Hetfield:: "Have a drink? Don't mind if I do. I have to keep myself topped up with tequila just listening to you inbred yokels and having to scan every single last one of your ugly faces. Not to mention that I have to go into the Locker Room and pass such products of inbreeding like Jack Bull, TITAN, Danny Tenfold and Brett Cross."

The crowd jeer loudly, with some of the crowd in the front rows actually turning their backs to the ring area and folding their arms, as if this act of defiance was a revolution in of itself. Hetfield gets to his feet, taking a quick swig from the kidney flask.

Hetfield:: "You profligates sit there, and you use the World Championship to measure a man. It ends at Prestige. It ends tonight. I'm sick of people using a lousy fucking strap with a bit of gold tacked onto it to judge people. I don't want to be judged that way any longer. I want to be judged by the way I hurt people. I want to be judged as a legionnaire, not a wastrel with a cowards interior wearing an expensive belt.

Yet month in, month out, it's the same old shit: These profligates..these..these wastrels in the locker rooms get on their knees after every single damn Pay-Per-View and beg..BEG! They beg for a title shot! What kind of a man does that? What kind of a man believes that they are the best simply because they do enough just to defend a strap? Oh, you busted a man open? Well fucking done! You pinned his shoulders to the mat? Wow, amazing! You made him tap?! WELL DONE!! BRILLIANT!! And that's not even counting the matches where these wastrels reduce themselves to the level of circus monkeys, whether wrestling in a cell, or with barbed wire as ropes, or with ladders, tables, WHATEVER! I'm sick of this! I'm sick of every single one of you believing that the strap makes the man, and i'm sick of every single one of you--"

Hetfield turns around halfway down the ramp, pointing up at the stage.

Hetfield:: "--debasing yourselves and acting like common circus monkeys for a belt, and i'm extremely sick of absolutely none of you going above and beyond the call of duty! When was the last time we saw someone get knocked the fuck out, huh? When was the last time we saw two men lying unconscious on the mat after beating eachothers brains out? When was the last time, before me and Oblivion, that people hunted eachother in this federation for the sake of it? I'm sick of you all fighting simply to the point where you can pin a man. I'm sick of you all not putting your backs into it and refusing to give the slightest goddamn modicum of effort when it comes to beating your opponent senseless. I'm sick of you rookies in the back who only put pen to paper because you want to go for the World Championship and 'put your name in the history books'!

I am the Last Emperor in this federation, and at Prestige, I am going to show everyone why I deserve that title. Men like Caesar, Scipio Africanus, Augustus, Pompey..they didn't rely on their noble titles alone just to get their names recognised, no, they went in for the kill! The hunt! They razed cities to the ground, they annihilated tribes, they wiped out their enemies, and not once did they stop and think of earning some title for it all! Well, it's time that the Last Emperor brought back this mindset, and it's time that he showed every single one of you, whether you are some kind of arrogant, ugly, fat beast like TITAN, or you're some kind of lowly bottom-feeder leeching off of Rivera's facade of "kindness" like Roy Viper, that the only thought that will ever drive you to victory is the thought of massacring your opponent."

Hetfield turns around, walking to the bottom of the ramp and reaching the ringside area, beginning to circle the ring. After a few steps, Hetfield approaches three members of the audience who have turned their backs on him, each one of them wearing licenced shirts. Hetfield walks over to the crowd barrier, clapping the top of the microphone once to emit a powerful sound, causing some of the nearby audience members to twitch.

Hetfield:: "It's just a real fucking shame that I don't give a damn what you people think. In fact, the only thing that's stopping me cutting your throats right now is the fact that I don't want to spend my youth rotting away in a prison, and nor do I disagree with you three peasants: I would rather have your eyes scan your fellow bottom-feeders, than have them rest on me. Your eyes don't deserve to behold me, or else I would have them cut out."

Hetfield takes another swig from the flask as the audience members turn around. Hetfield spits out the tequila, catching the middle member square in the face.

Hetfield:: "Go, my friends! Go and turn your backs on Maynard Hetfield! Enjoy it while you can, enjoy the quiet, enjoy the warm glow that radiates from the superstars whom you fall to your knees to worship, because the day is coming when Maynard Hetfield will take the World Championship and snap it over his knee, and usher in an age where gladiators and legionnaires are sacred! Where a mans greatness is measured by the amount of people he can tear down into nothing more than bloody chunks, as opposed to how many belts decorate his shoulders and waist!”

Hetfield puts his flask back into his jacket, turning around and rolling into the ring, climbing up onto one knee before pushing himself to his feet. The jeers are beginning to ripple throughout the crowd as they grow ever-impatient with the ramblings of Maynard Hetfield.

Hetfield:: “Prepare for it, Asylum, because it’s time that I took charge. Scars and Stripes was just the beginning: Oblivion fell to his knees because of me, and the day is coming when I will tear down your idols and make them follow suit. It is time that a gladiator takes the helm of this fucking federation. Not two fat brutes who have their own gravitational pull, not some slimy little Viper, not some religiously-motivated madman, not some bad-toothed and shit-spewing Limey boxer…ME.

It’s time that the strongest survive. It is time that only the toughest and the most brutal are seen as champions and legends. It is time that we measure men and women by the damage they deal and by the power they wield, and not by the level of the belt around their waist. Kiss goodbye to your ideas of what makes a wrestling federation, sit down, and watch as I change your fucking world.”

Hetfield drops the microphone out in front of him as the jeers instantaneously rise from the crowd. Hetfield doesn’t blink, nor does he even reflect a change of emotion in his eyes aside from a certain sort of glee. Instead, he flops down onto his back, rolling under the bottom rope and out of the ring, walking up the ramp as the crowd began to jeer Hetfield venomously.

Gibson: “…..What the hell was that about??”

Long: “You heard him, Gibson: This man put Oblivion down after a brutal match to avenge his friend. What did he have to show from it aside from a few scars? Nothing! Everyone talked about the Rumble or World Championship match! He wants to make it so that only the best and the most brutal are recognised, and I can’t wait for that day!! This new Maynard Hetfield is going to be the hottest prospect in this federation!”

Gibson: “…Long, are you insane? I won’t even waste my breath telling you how you’re wrong! Luck is just bitter, knowing that he’s surrounded by better talent than him! Hell, he couldn’t even last five seconds without his two goons before going off the deep end! Does this look like a hot new prospect?!”

Long: “You mean Maynard Hetfield, right?”

Gibson: “Shut up. I hope that, if he is walking into Prestige, that someone shuts his damn mouth once and for all and gets that sense of unwarranted self importance out of his head!”

Hetfield stops at the top of the ramp, pulling out his hip flask from inside his jacket and taking a quick swig before walking up onto the stage and into the backstage.

[primetime]

The scene opens up as the crowd is shown screaming. Fireworks explode from the top of the arena. The feed then switches to ringside, where Gibson and Long are waiting.

Gibson: What a night so far, Sidney. Now, we prepare for a very special moment for our company. 2 time World Champion and arguably the best to ever step in that ring, Chris “The Machine” Sabora will be coming out here with a special announcement.

Long: The Machine put up a pretty good fight at Scars and Stripes. He just didn’t have the goods to take down TITAN.

Gibson: This is true. No one will deny though that he gave his all out there.

“The Sounds of Madness” by Shinedown begins to play as the crowd immediately stands up to their feet! The screams are deafening as Chris Sabora steps into view. His right arm is in a sling and he wears dark sunglasses, covering the heavy bruising upon his face. Stopping at the end of the stage, Sabora looks out at the fans in attendance!

Gibson: There he is, the man who went undefeated for over a year! Chris Sabora… the longest reigning world champion in Asylum history! This man has truly done it all, carrying the flag for the Asylum as it went global, and in the process becoming the spokesmen for professional wrestling itself! Rival companies even looked to this man as an example, as Sabora portrayed the truest definition of what a World Champion should be.

Walking down the ramp way, Sabora enters the ring and accepts a microphone. He then unzips his track jacket and listen to the fans as they shout:

MACHINE! MACHINE! MACHINE! MACHINE!

Sabora: Thank you. Thank you to everybody..

SA-BOR-A!!! SA-BO-RA!! SA-BOR-A!!!

Sabora stays in the center of the ring. His chiseled frame looks emotionally overwhelmed by the crowd support.

Sabora: A few years ago, I walked into this company with the intent on becoming the greatest to ever step in this ring. Prior to that day, I had spent a lifetime honing my body into the perfect fighting machine, strengthening my body and mind for any situation that may arise. I will tell you this.. I am completely unprepared for this response from you all. It seems that a man is never to old to be humbled by a greater force.

THANK YOU SABORA! THANK YOU SABORA! THANK YOU SABORA!

Sabora: Yes, I can see that you all know what is to take place tonight. So, I will not disrespect anyone’s intelligence and beat around the bush. When I returned to the ring at Scars and Stripes, I did so because I had unfinished business. A man had stolen the World Championship from me and attempted to end my career. I felt dishonored.. And angry. I returned to make things right in this ring, and while I did not succeed in winning the title.. I feel I earned back my respect. Through the years, I have face many men. Some whom in my opinion, are some of the best to ever do battle in company history. Through it all, no matter where my head was at, all of you fans supported me. When my wife passed away, it was all of you who offered me inspiration to continue to fight on.. And I did just that. We had a magical year to say the least. So, it is I who should thank you all! Thank you to everybody who has made my career as memorable as it has turned out to be… from the fans to the men in the locker room.

ONE MORE MATCH! ONE MORE MATCH! ONE MORE MATCH!

Sabora: I have now achieved everything I set out to do in this ring. As most of you know, I am a father to a wonderful little girl. She also has had to watch me from the stands like you all have while her Daddy has taken care of business. Now, I look to my next challenge in the story of life.. And that challenge is to finally be a good father to her. It is time that I become a champion in her life as well. So, I will be stepping away from the ring for the final time. I would like to think that I spent my career respecting those around me, no matter the situation, and always came across as a positive person to any I have come in contact with. Positivists breed success.. and success is something that everyone wishes to obtain. I will take with me all of the fond memories I have lived through here, and never forget anyone. I could stand up here and thank all of the people who have impacted me but I am afraid that I would forget someone. So, I will just leave it at that. I wish everyone here… honor and respect.

Sabora places the microphone down in the ring as he waves to the fans. The crowd cheers loudly and we see quick shots of various fans crying and pleading for Sabora to stay. Stepping through the ropes, Sabora walks up the ramp way.. And turns around. He raises a hand in respect, and then bows to the fans. He then walks out..

Gibson: Truly a class act to the end. We will be back… after these messages.

[primetime]

Singles Match
Standard Rules
Natalie Burrows vs. Shawn Ashen

'Innocence' hits the speakers, the fans cheering as the overhead lights dim. The area right in front of the curtain is bathed in blinding light thanks to a couple of overhead spotlights while coral-colored lights illuminate the rest of the arena, the end result seemingly coloring the air itself. Stepping out into that brilliant light, Natalie Burrows walks to the edge of that blinding spot until she is visible and raises her fists above her head. The movement triggers white and coral pyros to shoot in front of her in criss-crossing sparks, the Southern Belle emerging from the beam of light as the last round fires off.

Walt: The following match is scheduled for one fall! Making her way to the ring first from Durham, North Carolina... Natalie Burrows!

Making her way down the ramp, Natalie still slaps a few of the hands that are offered to her… but her focus is on the ring. Speeding up at the bottom of the ramp, she slides into the ring on her stomach before getting to her feet. The nearest turnbuckle is mounted as she looks out over the crowd, once again raising her fists in the air to evoke more cheers. She lingers there for a few moments before hopping down, doing a couple stretches to prepare for the match at hand.

Gibson: When we first saw the tale of the tape when Miss Burrows joined, we thought every match with her would be a massacre, but after a brilliant showing at Scars n' Stripes I think she has the entire company thinking twice about her!

Long: If you say so, but if one man can still show her just how undersized she is, it's this man!

The lights in the arena dim as “Follow Me” by Breaking Benjamin begins playing over the speakers. The crowd immediately begins to boo as an associate quickly runs from behind the curtain with a broom, sweeping the ramp. The boos only get louder as Shawn Ashen makes his way through the curtain, berating his associate the entire way to ensure no dust or grime gets onto his boots.

Walt: And her opponent from Omaha, Nebraska he is... Shawn Ashen!

He boasts an arrogant sneer as he gazes at the populace, seemingly basking in the hate he receives. He calmly climbs onto the apron now and wipes his feet before casually shooing away his associate and entering the ring. Once there, he stretches on the ropes and calmly turns towards the much smaller Natalie Burrows, the sneer slowly turning in to a smirk.

The two move towards the center of the ring, with Natalie trying to figure out just how to approach this match-up, and Ashen makes the decision easier for her by offering a test of strength. Natalie frowns, but not one to back down she reaches up to join the tie-up. Right before Ashen can take her hands, though, she ducked under and ran for the ropes. On the rebound, she ducked under a big boot from Ashen and went to the other side of the ring. Bouncing off again she ducked an attempt at an elbow from Shawn Ashen and then spun to a stop, turning and planting a forearm to the face of the much larger competitor.

Gibson: So the strategy comes in to play early from Natalie. Move fast and strike hard.

Ashen shakes off the strike and moves in again to grapple Natalie but she ducks under it and jumps up behind Ashen, locking in a sleeper hold. She wrenches in to the hold, hanging on with her feet not quite touching the ground. But before she can really lock it in, Ashen reaches up over his shoulder, grabbing Natalie about the head and slamming her down before him. Then pulling her up to a sitting position he pressed one knee in to her back and pulled back both arms, wrenching her in to a submission hold. Burrows struggled against it, but Shawn had it in tight and there was nowhere for Natalie to go. The ref asked her if she wanted out but she refused, and soon the crowd began to cheer her on, getting louder and louder until finally Natalie managed to spin out of it and hit Ashen with a strong kick to the gut.

Long: We might want to double check that, I think she may have picked her shot a little low!

Gibson: You're just mad that she found a way out of that submission by Ashen, Natalie wouldn't sink to tactics like that.

Burrows then jumped up, grabbing Ashen about the head and fell back in to a picture-perfect DDT on the already woozy Shawn Ashen. Natalie rolled back on to her feet and waited for Shawn Ashen to rise, and as he slowly got to his knees, she brought him right back down to the mat with the Epiphany! Natalie slid in to the pin as quickly as she could.

1...
2...
Kickout!

Tossing Natalie off of him, Shawn Ashen began to rise to his feet, shaking off the second strong strike to head in this match-up.

Gibson: Shawn Ashen seems to have his hands full as Natalie slowly works away on his big thick skull.

Long: He's just biding his time. All this man needs is one big move to put Natalie away!

Scrambling to her feet, Natalie ran back to bounce off the ropes again. With Shawn Ashen not quite at vertical yet, she went for another high-impact kick to the head, but Ashen stood and caught her leg. Startled, Natalie hopped about, not sure where to go from here but the bigger competitor yanked her in and then planted her hard with The Merger! Shawn Ashen took a short moment to look out to the crowd and soak up the jeers before sliding in to the cover.

1..
2..
Kickout!

At the last possible second Natalie squirmed her way to getting a shoulder off the mat.

Long: See, I told you! It only takes one move!

Gibson: What are you on about? That was close but it wasn't a three count!

Lifting Natalie's limp body up off the mat, Ashen instantly brought her up on to her shoulders, looking out to the still boo'ing crowds as he prepared to put Burrows away with Ashes to Ashes.

Burrows takes a deep breath as she leans against his larger frame, before she surprises the fans by shoving him away! Ashen is stunned a moment as Burrows backhands him, chops him across the chest, and then punches him right in the jaw! A look of fury is shown upon Ashen as he reaches out to grab Burrows yet again but she ducks under the lunge.. And perfectly nails her finisher.. The Closure!

Gibson: AMAZING! This gal is for real!

Ashen falls backwards like a dead weight as Burrows hooks the leg for the pin!

1..
2.…
Three!

Walt: Your winner … Natalie Burrows!

Natalie rolls off of Ashen and laughs as if she had it all along! The crowd cheers her on as her theme song picks up once more. Burrows bows slightly to the fans and then politely asks for a microphone from John Walt. Walt agrees..

Burrows: Thank you ya’ll! I know I haven’t been here too long as of yet but I am aching to make a mark in this business! So, I am throwing my hat in the ring and asking for a shot against whomever wins that Lionheart Championship next!

The fans begin cheering loudly.

Gibson: Wow.. She really is trying to make a mark out here quickly! We will be back after these messages!

[primetime]

The crowd cheers as we see Jack Rodgers and Stephen Callaway standing next to one another. Jack looks to Stephen as Callaway adjusts his tight fitting silk shirt. Callaway then turns to the camera and smiles:

Rodgers: We are here with Stephen Callaway! Stephen, you have made quite the impact here at the Asylum. Any comments?

Callaway: I am the complete package. There is no one who can say otherwise of me. You see, it has been my dream since day 1 to be a professional wrestler one day. I have lived the life necessary to get to this point in my life, and now I am giving up that dream for nobody. Blood, sweat… tears… it’s all a part of the game.

Rodgers: With the Royal Rumble over, where does that leave you in the feel of things now?

Callaway: Wherever fate leads me to. You see, there is no one in this business that I fear. Being a champion is the culmination of hard work and perseverance. To achieve that greatness, one has to make a name for themselves by destroying all who stand in their way. I am not afraid of my destiny. You are looking at the future of this business!

Rodgers: Those are brave words..

Callaway: I am a brave man. Tonight, I prove that by destroying Jack Bull... a man who should have been dropped long before. Jack, if you are watching this interview.. I am coming for you.

Rodgers: Back to you, Rock!

The scene opens up with a clear view of the current Hardkore champion Immanuel Taylor making his way through the glitzy corridors of the rented sports arena in Moscow, Russia. An “EUW-Asylum” banner temporarily hangs next to a window with a wide view of the business district of Moscow. Moscow State University can be seen from a distance. Immanuel, wearing his entrance gear along with his Hardkore Title and a blue hoodie. He seems to be more alert than before, his eyes wide open and scanning his surroundings.

Immanuel had just exited the stairwell and, on the top floor, made his way to the grand-looking black double doors with “Mark Rivera” etched on the nameplate to their right. After the show is over, that very same nameplate would be removed. Immanuel stood there for a second and observed that when Rivera retires or loses power then there will be no more nameplates with his name etched on them and, like all the former owner of the EUW-Asylum behemoth, “Mark Rivera” would be nothing more than a name.

This observation gave Immanuel an extra confidence boost as, after making sure he wasn’t followed, knocked twice on the door and opened it. There was a vestibule and another door, ostensibly leading to Rivera. Immanuel approached the male secretary who always accompanies Rivera around. He is busily devote to his computer screen, typing vigorously on his keyboard.

“Can I go in and have a quick word with him?” Immanuel’s voice is sharp and metallic from lack of use. The male secretary looked at Immanuel before looking back at his keyboard. Immanuel noticed the secretary's blackberry is at the edge of the table.

“I’m sorry but Mr. Rivera only meets with people he has an appointment with or purposefully summons to his office. I can book you an appointment at the…”

“No. That’s okay. Thank you” Immanuel turned to leave but stopped before turning back around. “Umm….does Mr. Rivera keep a record of his visitors?”

“What?” The male secretary eyed Immanuel.

“A record. Like, does he keep count of all those who come and see him?”

“I….uh…I don’t think I can really answer that question.”

“I’m just asking out of general interest because I wanted to keep track of how many times I’ve been here”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t help you there” The male secretary is back to typing vigorously as Immanuel stood there for five seconds. He then slowly turned around and made his way outside. The male secretary did not notice the absence of his cherished blackberry, which is now safely in Immanuel’s left pocket in his blue hoodie. As soon as Immanuel made his way outside the vestibule, he found himself face to face with Maynard Hetfield.

Both men found themselves in an intense staredown. Immanuel with his cold demeanor and emotionless façade and Hetfield with his barely containable instability and rage. Immanuel made the first move, moving away from Maynard and walking away. Hetfield went in his separate direction too, both men destined to meet in the ring later this evening.

[primetime]

The scene opens up as we see a long table with various “suits” seated around it. Each man and woman is dressed sharply as they speak amongst themselves. The tension in the room is undeniable as they argue here and there. Walking into the room now to a chorus a boos from the fans is Mark Rivera. He shuts the door behind him and begins to find a seat.

Chairman 1: Don’t bother with a seat, Rivera. This won’t take long.

Rivera: I am here as requested. As you all know, I have a show underway at the moment and I am needed out there right now. So, I would appreciate it if we could make this quick?

The board begins to speak amongst themselves a moment.

Chairman 2: Mark, I am sure you are away of the fall out from Scars and Stripes. We have had to endure countless jabs and angered feedback regarding the quality of that show. This is unacceptable. Your tenure as owner of the Asylum is based on the fact that you can keep ratings above a certain level. For the last year, we have watches this company transform into a powerhouse. We worry that things are starting to unravel.

Rivera: Unravel? Are you kidding me? First of all, the ratings from this year were higher than ever.. Thanks to me. As I was busy taking down that idiot, Kirk Kennedy, people were tuning in and things could not be better. So, don’t lecture me on how to bring in ratings or not. Scars and Stripes was the most viewed pay per view in company history! Negative feedback or not, you can not deny the ratings.

Chairman 1: We agree that the ratings were higher when Kennedy was around to.. Spur you on.

Rivera: Kennedy had nothing to do with it. I am taking the Asylum into the stratosphere! Prestige is set to break records once again and it will be MY name that people will refer to as a genius when all is said and done. I have brought a much more powerful superstar to represent this company as World Champion in TITAN. That boring Pure Championship has been pushed away in favor of the hottest strap on the planet… the Lionheart Championship. Doubting me is ridiculous. If anything.. I have saved this damn place! Do NOT forget for a minute who is the CEO of this company! I run things when it comes to the Asylum! Now if you will excuse me, I have things to tend to…

Rivera walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The board of directors say nothing for a time until one finally speaks out:

Chairman 3: He is right. Mark Rivera is the CEO of all things that are the Asylum. He gets people talking no matter how you cut it. We are going to have to sit back and see how he plays the game.

Chairman 1: No.. we don’t. Mark is in for a big surprise. He may has the Asylum under his iron fist, but the EUW is another matter all together. We are the EUW Board of Directors. That leaves us the sole force of ownership with no acting CEO having been appointed.

Chairman 2: The EUW is a dead brand. Kennedy was defeated, remember?

Chairman 1: Yes, Kennedy was defeated. However, as long as we are a board, the EUW is far from dead. As of 6AM this morning, I began a search for some potential applicants for the CEO position of the EUW.

Chairman 3: Why? Rivera will just squash him just as he did Kennedy! This is useless! You would have to find someone smarter and with even less inhibitions than Rivera has!

Chairman 1: Exactly.. And I found just the man for the job…

[primetime]

Singles Match
Standard Rules
Jack Bull vs. Stephen Callaway

“Remedy” by Cold plays as Callaway steps through the curtain. At the top of the stage, he makes a 'V1' prayer taunt with his nose between the first two fingers before confidently strutting down the ramp, nodding his head and singing along with his theme as some of the crowd jeer at him.

Walt: From Sacramento, California..weighing in at two hundred and thirty four pounds…STEPHEN! CALLAWAAAYYYYY!!

Callaway reaches ringside, jogging up the steps, onto the apron and climbs through the ropes, jogging towards the upper-right turnbuckle and climbing up onto the second rope, making his signature V1 Prayer taunt before hopping down and turning around. “Remedy” is replaced by “Spitfire” by The Prodigy as the crowd suddenly get to their feet, cheering loudly. Jack Bull throws the curtain aside, striding out onto the stage and signalling for the fans to raise the roof! Full of intensity, Bull storms down the ramp, slapping hands along the way.

Walt: Residing in Bakersfield, California, weighing in at two hundred and forty one pounds..JACK! BUUUUULLLLLLLLL!!!

Bull runs forward, hopping onto the apron and climbs into the ring, turning and walking towards the lower-left turnbuckle, climbing up and throwing up his arms to give the fans the “Hook ‘Em Horns”. The crowd cheer wildly before Bull hops down, turning around to face a determined-looking Callaway as “Spitfire” stops playing. The referee motions to the timekeeper.

DING DING DING!

Both men rush out of their corners, but Bull strikes first, planting Callaway to the mat with a Running Lariat. Bull grabs the right arm of Callaway, pulling him to his feet and Irish whips him across the ring. Callaway rebounds against the set of ropes before running at Bull who leans down and lifts Callaway onto his shoulders for a Samoan Drop. Callaway swings an elbow out, catching Bull in the side of his temple and quickly drops behind. Bull twists around, but Callaway leans down, scooping up Bull before slamming him feet first onto the mat with his right arm wrenched around his neck. Callaway swings his foot out, catching Bulls leg and snaps him backwards with the Anything Goes (Cold Crush DDT), slamming both men to the ground.

Callaway quickly pulls himself to his feet, waiting behind Bull as he slowly gets up to one knee with Callaway stalking him behind his back. As soon as Bull gets to his feet, Callaway lunges forward and pulls his right arm up, hoping to locking in a Calsmission. Bull quickly thrusts down onto one knee, using Callaway's grip on his own arm to throw him over his shoulder with a swift snapmare which slams Callaway roughly into the mat. He grabs Callaway's head, pulling him up and locking in a side headlock. Callaway arches his back, moving up into an almost crab-like position as Bull gets up to a squatting position, continuing to hold in the headlock. Callaway begins to force himself up to a vertical base, but Bull quickly spins him under his arm, dropping down and spiking Callaway's head roughly into the mat with a quick DDT. Bull goes for a quick cover..

1....2....KICK OUT!

Callaway manages to push his shoulder up comfortably before the count of three. Bull gets up to his knees, grabbing Callaway’s hair and pulling him to his feet, irish whipping him across the ring. Callaway rebounds into the ropes, whipping off towards Bull who leans down, lifting Callaway up onto his shoulders and slamming him down with a ruthless Samoan Drop. Callaway slams roughly into the mat, and Bull rolls over to pin him. Just as he hooks his leg, Callaway leans down, slamming an elbow into the top of Bull’s temple and forcing him to release the leg, lunging his right leg out and kicking Bull square in the jaw before pulling himself up to his feet.

Bull gets to his feet, swinging a hook at Callaway who ducks under it and jolts forward, twisting around and grabbing the back of Bull’s head, charging forward and throwing him over the top rope and to the outside. Bull hits the mats with a crash as Callaway slides out of the ring, pulling the now-dazed Bull to his feet and forcing him over to the crowd barrier, slamming his head down upon it before roughly grasping his shoulders, violently throwing him backwards and into the ring apron, slamming the middle of his back against it and causing him to cry out loudly in pain, falling forward to his knees. Callaway moves behind him, leaning under the left side of his body and lifting him slightly, turning and slamming his back roughly against the edge of the apron with a powerful Angle Slam!

Gibson: Goddamn, Bull just got planted with a vicious move by Callaway!

Long: Brilliant. Vicious. Ruthless. That is what is going to send Stephen to the top.

Bull flops down to the safety mats on the outside as Callaway gives a small grin, nodding his head and grabbing Bull by his neck, pulling him to his feet. Bull quickly slams a fist into Callaway’s stomach, causing him to flinch enough to allow Bull to snap a hook into Callaway’s jaw, sending him stumbling backwards and allowing Bull enough time to rush forward, planting Callaway with a rough Lariat that sends Callaway down hard into the mats. Grasping the apron, Bull pulls himself up, rolling into the ring as Callaway slowly sits up, rubbing his chest. Bull rolls out again, delivering a swift stomp into Callaway’s chest, sending him down onto his back before slamming a foot into his mouth. Bull leans down, grabbing Callaway’s hair and rolls him into the ring, sliding in after him.

Callaway tries to crawl forward, but Bull grabs the back of Callaway’s head, pulling him up to his feet, twisting him around and locking his head under his arm, falling back and planting his skull into the mat with a swift DDT. Callaway flops forward, rolling onto his back as Bull goes to hook the leg. He stops, noticing Callaway is too near the ropes, and instead pulls him backwards across the mat and into the middle of the ring, pinning his shoulders down.


1….2….KICK OUT!

Callaway still manages to get his shoulders up, and Bull gets to his feet, taking a few steps back and waiting for Callaway to get up to his feet. Callaway forces himself onto his hands and knees before pushing himself to his feet, turning around. Bull moves forward, but Callaway jolts forward, expecting Bull to stalk him and lunges in for a Calsikick! (Superkick) Bull, the veteran, quickly ducks under it, twisting around. Callaway turns around and Bull knees him roughly in the gut, placing an arm over his chest for the BullsEye! Callaway quickly grabs Bull’s arm, lifting it and ducking under him, moving behind him and loosely locking in the Calsmission! Bull manages to kick his foot out backwards, hitting Callaway in his right knee and forcing him to break the hold, allowing Bull to turn around and face him. Callaway grasps Bulls right arm, pulling him forward and ducking under him, twisting around and placing his boot under Bull’s chin before falling back, forcing Bull’s jaw to smash against the sole of his boot with the Das Boot. Bull falls back, and Callaway crawls forward, hooking the leg.

1….2…..KICK OUT!

Bull manages to thrust a shoulder up, and Callaway gets to his feet, stalking Bull with his arms raised, signalling his intent for the Calsmission! Bull gets to one knee, nodding his head slightly as the veteran realises that Callaway is probably stalking him..

Bull waits until just the moment that Callaway grabs him. Bull then uses the back of his head to head butt Callaway away! Bull then drapes an arm over his should and begins to try for the Bull’s eye! Callaway reacts by driving his elbow into the face of Bull! Callaway begins to Irish Whip Bull into the ropes but is countered by Bull.. Right back into the Bullseye! He performs it perfectly.. Covering for the pin after!

1..
2.…
Three!

Walt: Your winner.. Jack Bull!

The crowd cheers as Bull slowly gets up to one knee. He then looks out at the fans and rips the microphone out of Walt’s hand!

Bull: I came out tonight to whip some ass and I still feel like there is more ass to whip! I know you all saw the travesty that was the Royal Rumble two weeks ago. Old Jack Bull didn’t have things go his way at all. That’s fine. You see, I been busting my ass since I arrived here and I will be damned if I will give up now! Prestige is almost here.. And it’s time for me to reassert myself around here! So, Mark Rivera, bring your happy ass out here and face the music! I need some answers..

The crowd cheers for Jack as no one walks out..

Bull: Look at this. He is afraid to look a man in the eye. It probably has something to do with the fact that all of his current title holders are second rate performers compared to yours truly. So, if Rivera has no plans to walk out here, why don’t one them fake champions come out and face me! Do all of you all wanna’ see Jack Bull make a point tonight?!

The crowd agrees as Jack Raises the microphone over his head. Suddenly, a lone figure steps into view.. It is Immanuel Taylor!

Taylor: I hardly know you… but even I know this is getting old.

Bull: Before I ask what you mean, I will ask the more important question that everyone here is thinking.. WHO ARE YOU?!

Taylor: Your humor is lost upon me. You see, I do not normally get involved in other people’s affairs but I could not help but here you state that I was a second rate performer? I figured, you must have-

Bull: Wait.. Wait.. Wait.. Wait. I get it. You bought one of them toy title belts and want to live out your fantasy. Sure. Well, let me explain something to you. I am Jack Bull. Right now, I am handling business. Now, do the right thing and walk back to whatever fast food restaurant (Crowd laughing) you sprang out from. Or else I will-

Taylor: You will do nothing. You can make all of the jokes that you wish but know this. We will meet in the ring. I will teach you a bit about respect. You see, I know very well who you are… but you know nothing of me. You will though.. Soon.

Taylor turns to walk away when Bull responds with:

Bull: Bring it. You know where to find me..

[primetime]

The camera fades in to the back as the back of Ethen Bonelo is shown leaning against a doorway. He turns slowly and faces the camera before slumping down into the wall. The front of his breastplate is darker, coated with crimson blood. As the camera pans down further, the limp body of Ewan Jakeway is shown, similarly battered as his large mask has a gigantic crack running down the side of it, obviously shattered by a blunt object.

As the camera pulls out the signs of the beating laid upon the two are evident. The objects that used to sit neatly on the walls in the corridor are strewn about, the wall has a hole in it about the size of Ethen Bonelo’s head. There is some wire next to Ewan who has ligature marks on his neck. About three feet away from him is a lead pipe, the object used to shatter the mask, lying on the ground with specks of blood on it.

Pulling out even further a sadistic smile on rests on the face of The Scorpion as he surveys his damage. Walking forward he nudges Bonelo with his foot who shows no signs of resistance as his breathing begins to grow shallower, nearing the point unconsciousness from the amount of blood let. Dropping down next to him with one knee, The Scorpion holds up the neck of Bonelo and allows some of the blood pouring out from beneath the mask to coat his hand before he spins and holds Bonelo in one arm and showcases the bloody arm for the camera.

Scorpion: Roman, this is only the beginning.

So few words, but the message more than sent The Scorpion let’s go of Bonelo as he slumps down face first into the floor. The Scorpion walks away from the scene in one direction as medical personal immediately come around the corner and begin to work on Roman and Ewan. Just before Scorpion reaches the end of the hall, Roman Cripate comes around the corner and sees him.

Roman: Son of a bitch!

Roman takes a few steps towards Scorpion before he disappears around the corner, not even looking back at Roman, content with the message already sent. Roman halts his pursuit of the assailant and turns to Ewan and Ethen and immediately begins to help the medical tech’s with Ethen, holding his mask on as they work to stop the flow of blood and we cut away.

[primetime]

Singles Match
Standard Rules
Maynard "Mister Luck" Hetfield vs. Immanuel Taylor

The lights remain in their natural state as the cameras switches to the entrance stage where “Tyrant” by Judas Priest oozes from the speakers. It’s neither loud nor blaring but rather concentrated and prevalent. The crowd reacts with attention but without boos or cheers. Immanuel Taylor walks out to the stage in his ebony black ring attire with a red hoodie, the hood on, and without pause makes his way down the ramp.

Walt: This match is scheduled for one fall. Coming down the isle, making his way to the ring, from Baltimore, Maryland weighing in at 241 pounds and standing six foot six. He is....Immanuel Taylor!

Walt's direct and to the point speech when introducing Immanuel segues to several people in the crowd looking on in a confused state of their own. Immanuel eventually makes it to the ring where he removes his hoodie, places it on the steel steps and makes his way into the ring very carefully. Immanuel stands in one of the four corners erect with his arms on either side of his lean, slim body.

Gibson: Taylor must be flying high now as the newly crowned Aslyum Hardkore Champion.

Long: He had a tough fight with Tyreke Bell for that belt but he walked away from it. Tyreke, not so much

After the opening plays and the main guitar riff plays thirty-three seconds into the song, Maynard Hetfield throws the curtain to one side, wearing a red suit jacket with a golden eagle emblazoned on the back over his bare chest and tights. Walking out onto the stage as the crowd begin to jeer with all their energy. Hetfield stops at the top of the stage, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a sterling silver kidney flask, taking a quick drink before walking down the ramp, shaking his head as the fans jeers fill the arena.

Walt: And his opponent, hailing from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing in at two hundred and forty pounds...."The Last Emperor", MAYNARD! HETFIEEEEELDDDD!!

Hetfield turns around, looking up at the stage while taking another drink from the flask to reveal the words "The Last Emperor" emblazoned on the back of his jacket before he turns around, walking down the ramp and sliding under the bottom rope into the ring. Climbing onto the lower-left turnbuckle, Hetfield takes another quick drink before placing the kidney flask back into his jacket, spitting out a large mouthful of alcohol over the nearby crowd. The crowds hatred intensifies as Hetfield gives a smug smirk, hopping down from the turnbuckle and pulling his suit jacket off, throwing it across the ring into the upper-right turnbuckle before walking over and sitting on it, cracking his knuckles and taking off his leather sandals.

Gibson: New attitude, new outlook. Could this be trouble for the Asylum with The Last Emperor running amuck?

Long: Well the way he likes to hurt people, I don't think it will be a good thing for everyone, that's for damn sure.

Both men take center ring as the referee signals for the bell. Maynard mouths off to Taylor, telling him he isn't truely hardkore, not in the way he is. Maynard is spewing things into Taylor's face until Taylor finally has enough and mugs Maynard backwards into the ropes. Maynard is embarassed and shocked at this display of disrespect as he holds his face. Maynard plays it off and slowly begins to walk back towards Taylor but then eventually snaps and tackles Taylor onto the mat. Maynard lets fists fly in a fury and Taylor tries to cover up. Maynard lands some nice shots to Taylor's head before getting up off of him. Maynard yells out to the crowd and gets a heated reaction. Maynard now turns his attention back to Taylor and goes to land a boot right onto his chest. But Taylor grabs his foot and holds onto it. He then twists Maynard's ankle and flings him down neck first onto the second rope. Maynard bounces off of it and back to his feet where Taylor is up and waiting. Taylor catches Maynard on the rebound from behind and drops him with a German Suplex. Taylor waits for Maynard to get back to his feet and when he does, he drops him back down with a clothesline. Maynard is up again and Taylor gives him another clothesline. Maynard is shaking his head as he rolls out of the ring quickly and gathers his breath.

Gibson: Wise of Hetfield to gather himself outside, slow the pace down which Taylor has on his side

Long: He is very ring smart and savvy

Taylor doesn't want to wait as he walks over to the ropes and goes to pull Maynard back into the ring. Maynard though drops back down off the apron into a sitting position with Taylor's neck flinging off the top rope. Taylor goes backwards into the canvas hard. Maynard slides back into the ring and begins to furiously kick Taylor in the sternum. He is doing it without a break in between kicks and the impact is making the crowd wince. The referee finally steps in and pushes Maynard back a bit and warns him. Maynard just screams at Taylor "Hows that for Hardkore chump!?" Maynard walks around with a smug smirk on his face as Taylor uses the ropes to get himself up, hurting from the kicks. Maynard now bounces off the ropes and launches himself like a lawn dart or missile, head first into Taylor, tackling him. Maynard now mounts on Taylor and begins to level him with punch after punch, the referee again having to show Maynard off a bit after repeatidly being told to watch the closed fist shots. Maynard gets off and makes the referee run away. Maynard now turns his attention back to Taylor and goes after him.....but Taylor tries to fight him off. Boot after boot as he lays on the canvas, kicking Maynard in the gut

Gibson: Taylor is fighting back, showing some spirit

Long: He is going to need to pull everything out of his arsenal to take this sadistic bastard out

Taylor now moves out of the way when Maynard tries to drop an elbow into his chest. Taylor gets up and catches Maynard when he's on his feet with some boxing style punches to his chest, payback for earlier. Maynard goes for a big time round house punch but Taylor ducks it and Irish whips Maynard across the ring. Maynard pops back up and comes running at Taylor who kicks him in the gut. He now hooks him and then lifts him up for a brainbuster.....and lands it! Taylor now goes for a cover...

1...


2...


Kickout!

Now, Taylor drags Maynard by the leg to the center of the ring and looks to be ready to try and lock in a Boston Crab. He has Maynard half turned but Maynard is fighting it. Maynard uses his leg strength and twists himself to flip Taylor off of him. Taylor comes back after him but Maynard uses a drop toe hold and Taylor goes down face first onto the bottom turnbuckle. Maynard gets up and begins to ram Taylor's head into that turnbuckle. He keeps on doing it with a sick look in his eye's. He must do it six or seven times at rapid speed before letting go and backing off. Maynard now sizes Taylor up and awaits for him to get to his feet. Once Taylor is up, Maynard grabs him and plants him with a Hammerlock LegSweep DDT! Taylor is down and Maynard makes the cover

1...
2..
But Taylor gets a foot on the rope!


Gibson: Well talk about Luck

Long: He isn't Luck, he's Maynard Hetfield....The Last Emperor!

Gibson: No, not that. The fact that Taylor had enough ring sense to know the bottom rope was within foot's reach


Maynard is not happy as he drags Taylor by the foot and kicks him in the stomach. Maynard then bounces off the ropes and jumps up, looking to land with both feet viciously on Taylor's face....but Taylor moves out of the way and Maynard stomps the canvas instead. Taylor now has rolled up onto his feet and lands a dropkick to Maynard's face, sending him backwards into the corner.

Taylor backs up and gains momentum, running towards Hetfield! Hetfield side steps him though and Irish Whips Taylor into the corner! Hetfield then steps back in the same manner, but performs his finisher, The Divine Rage perfectly instead! Hetfield covers for the pin quickly..

1..
2.…
Three!

Walt: Your winner.. Maynard Hetfield!

The crowd boos loudly as Hetfield raises his hands in victory! The ref tries to assist him but is suddenly tosses out of the ring and to ringside!!

Gibson: Oh come on! That is not necessary!

Hetfield then looks to the fans and smirks at them, only to step through the ropes and head up the ramp way with the fans booing the whole way!

Long: I love that man! Look at his determination! HE IS THE LAST EMPEROR!

Gibson: He is crazy.. That is what he is.

We see Taylor gathering himself in the ring as he slowly rises to his feet. The fans begin to cheer now as Jack Bull steps into view on the stage area!

Bull: Well, I sat back and watched you at work. Honestly, I am not impressed. I just hope you can do better than that in 2 weeks… cuz’ I just met with Rivera. You got your wish.. THAT'S A FACT!

The fans cheer loudly as Taylor shouts something inaudible from the ring… and the feed fades out..

[primetime]

Main Event
Lionheart Championship Match
Bane vs. Danny Tenfold vs. Roy Viper.

Gibson: Now we get to the final match of tonight’s event. The next Lionheart Champion will be declared in grand fashion as 3 of today’s hottest stars fight for the right to be the best! With the three names involved in this affair, anything could happen!

Long: My money is on Viper! He is a playmaker! This is the man who single handily brought down the EUW itself! THAT is power!

Walt: The following match will be for the Asylum Lionheart Championship! Standard Rules apply. Coming to the ring first… BANE!

As " Feel like I do"by drowning pool hits the sound system Illidan Bane makes his way out to the ramp way. He stands at the entrance way looking left to right as the crowd cheers for him. He then walks down to the ring, he nods his head as the fans cheer his name. Upon entering the ring he heads to a turnbuckle and stands on it showing his gratitude to the fans. Then stands in the corner awaiting for his opponent to come down or the match to start.

Gibson: Some people think that Bane is on the cusp of greatness! They are just waiting for him to break out and make his mark!

Long: He bores me..

Walt: Next, please welcome.. Danny Tenfold!

"Sidstyler" by Machinae Supremacy begins to blasts from the loud speakers as Danny Tenfold steps out onto the stage to cheers from the fans. He looks around and grins before quickly making his way down the ramp, high-fiving fans on the way. When he gets to the bottom of the ramp he slides into the ring under the bottom rope. He hops to his feet in the middle of the ring and raises his right fist as he looks around the arena, taking in the applause. Danny finally heads to his corner as the music fades.

Gibson: Tenfold is an enigma! The fans literally love him!

Long: The fans have no idea what is good for them. They are sheep.

Walt: .. And the final opponent … Roy “The Cobra” Viiiiiiiiiiiiper!

As Ireland can be faintly heard Roy leads the whole team to the stage area. Each dressed to fit their own style and carrying a weapon. Roy a sledge hammer, Leo a chair, Shamus a lead pipe, Peter a steal chain, and John a trashcan, Morgan and Mary both are wearing sliver knuckles. After pausing on stage for the words to become clear Shamus takes point and the group heads to the ring to keep the mystery of who is fighting. As they all stand ring side Roy hands his hammer to Morgan and slides into the ring before perching himself across the top rope and waiting for the match to start soaking in the crowds emotion

Long: There he is… the COBRA! Look at the shape that he is in! You are looking at the future of this business!

Gibson: Sure. I won’t deny his potential at all.

All three men glare at one another. The fans cheer loudly. The bell is rung. Viper is first to attack, spearing into Bane and driving the former cop into a corner! Viper then backs up and offers a hard chop to Bane’s chest, instantly turning it red! Danny Tenfold runs to a rope and uses it, launching into the air and colliding with Viper with a flying elbow! Viper rolls to the mat in pain as Tenfold rises back up. Tenfold Irish Whips Bane to the ropes, catches him on the rebound, and uses a belly to belly suplex!

Gibson: Excellent start by Tenfold tonight!

Long: Give Viper time. This will turn around.

Tenfold backs up and raises a arm to spur the fans. He then runs to the ropes and bounces off of them, only to be intercepted by Roy Viper as he uses a running bulldog! Viper spins over and locks in an ankle lock! Tenfold screams in agony as Viper clamps it on! Bane, now back on his feet, rushes Viper and kicks him in the jaw, then follows it up by dropping an elbow into the spine of Tenfold! Tenfold rolls in pain. Bane brings Tenfold to his feet, lifts him up, and plants him with a backbreaker! Tenfold rolls on to the mat. Bane then turns around and catches an incoming Roy Viper, falling backward with a snap DDT! Bane is on fire!

Gibson: Bane is clearing house out there! He really wants the win tonight. This could be his moment to shine!

With the fans cheering him on, Bane picks Viper back up and lifts him in to the air. He falls backward with an inverted brain buster! Bane then covers for the pin!

1..
2...
Tenfold breaks it up with a hard kick to Bane’s head!

Tenfold, fully rejuvenated, picks up Bane and hooks an arm over his head. He falls backwards with a high angle backdrop! Tenfold then rolls over with Bane in tow. Once again back on his feet, he tosses Bane over the top ropes with a smile, sending the former cop to ringside! Roy Viper rolls him up from behind into a small package out of no where for the pin attempt!

1..
Tenfold kicks out!

Both me rush to their feet! Roy acts first with am arm take down to Tenfold! Tenfold rushes to his feet, Roy stuns him with a stiff kick to the face! Viper then rushes to a nearby turnbuckle, only to launch off and nail the “Snake Bite”! Tenfold crumbles hard to the mar as Roy covers for the pin!

1..
2...
Tenfold kicks out! Viper grabs his tights and rolls him deeper into a pin, this time with even more authority!

1...
2.…
Tenfold kicks out!

Gibson: Amazing match here in this main event! Viper is starting to turn the tide here but even still, Tenfold will not stay down!

Long: I told you.. Roy Viper is our next Lionheart Champion!

Viper rises to his feet infuriated! He taunts the fans by screaming at them as Tenfold slowly rises to his feet once again. Viper grabs him and hooks the arm, only for Tenfold to shove him right into the incoming Bane! Bane lifts Viper into the air and nails the Scales of Justice!! The crowd screams in approval as Bane slowly rises to one knee, staring Danny Tenfold down!

Gibson: This could be it!!

Tenfold reacts that much quicker, grabbing Bane and quickly twisting him around to perform a neck breaker! With the crowd cheering loudly now, he rushes to a nearby turnbuckle.. And prepares for lift off! Tenfold launches into the air and uses his finisher.. The Killswitch Tengage! The crowd cheers loudly as Tenfold covers for the pin!

1..
2...

Roy Viper slowly lifts his head but he can only watch.. As Tenfold gets the final count of..

Three!

Walt: Your winner.. And NEW Lionheart Champion, Danny Tenfold!!

The crowd cheers loudly as Danny celebrates in the ring! Bane is out cold, breathing heavily. Roy Viper is up now, and he looks furious! Before Danny can react, Viper snags the Lionheart strap out of the hands of the official and drives it into the new champion’s head! Danny falls to the mat with a sickening thud!

Gibson: WOW! VIPER, YOU ARE OUT OF CONTROL!

Viper looks around at the fans as they boo him loudly! He then places the strap on the mat and picks up Danny.. Only to use a snap DDT into the outstretched metal plate!! Danny rolls over, blood gushing from a cut on his forehead! Viper then takes a microphone and begins to speak:

Viper: This.. Isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Viper then exit’s the ring as the fans boo loudly!

Long: Roy Viper… he is a visionary. A statement has been made to Tenfold.

Gibson: What do you think it is?

Long: It’s simple… watch your back.

[primetime]

Gibson: That main event was truly a classic, ladies and gentlemen! We have a newly crowned Asylum Lionheart Champion! I can’t believe it!

Long: Cross knew what he was doing by dropping that belt! Let the low life’s beat each other up over it!

Gibson: I don’t know about that, Sidney. Either way, we still have more to show the fans as apparently Mark Rivera is set to come on out and address matters? Word has it, the news will be industry changing!

Long: Rivera is a genius! Plain and simple. When he talks… people listen!

“Highway to Hell” by AC/DC begins to play once again as the fans begin to boo loudly! Stepping through the entrance, Mark Rivera smirks as he is seen in a three piece suit. He makes his way down the ramp way and to the ring, smiling from ear to ear. Once inside the ring, he graciously accepts a microphone and begins to speak.

Rivera: Hello, Asylum Universe!

The fans boo in response, causing Rivera to laugh a bit.

Rivera: Oh come now. Are we still uptight about Scars and Stripes? You know, the beauty of that show is that even though you all hated it, it became the most watched pay per view in Asylum or EUW history! So thank you for that! Argue amongst yourselves about if you wish, the ratings do not lie!

The fans continue to jeer Rivera and throw trash into the ring.

Rivera: I am not out here to address this though. You see, a matter of importance has befallen me. A certain Asylum Hall of Famer has asked me to come out to the ring tonight, for reasons even I do not know. So, without further adieu, please welcome.. XPLODE!

The fans stand up and cheer as “The Enemy” by Godsmack begins to play! The lights dim down to a crimson color as Xplode is shown stepping into view with a lady at his side!

Gibson: And there he is, the 2 time World Champion, Xplode. Something is cooking here, ladies and gentlemen. The question is though, who is that woman?!

Long: I hear her name is Skyler. The rest is a mystery. She really is nice to look at either way.

Gibson: There is a crazy but subdued look in her eyes…

Both Skyler and Xplode head to ringside. Xplode walks up the steps and sits down upon a ring rope, allowing easier passage for Skyler to enter the ring. The fans are shown bowing to Xplode in respect as he accepts a microphone.

Rivera: Ok, you got me out here. Now, I know your history, X. Don’t think for a minute that I am not ready for any surprises that you may have in store. We had a deal and I expect you to honor it.

Xplode: What was that deal again?

Rivera: I would make you the special referee for your brother’s match at Scars and Stripes, even though I still do not why you wanted to be one considering that you did nothing to help him. You also asked for one more match of your choosing. I have granted this and I have brought you a contract for full reinstatement as an active competitor… for one match only. Now, it’s time to uphold your end of the bargain.

The fans begin cheering as Skyler is shown looking around with a confused look upon her face. Xplode strokes his beard and readjusts his sunglasses.

Gibson: Did Rivera say.. Reinstatement? Oh wow..

Xplode: You know, Mark. May I call you that?

Rivera: No.

Xplode: Ok. Well, Mark.. I have ALWAYS been a man of my word. You see, before these kiddies in the locker room back there even laced up a set of boots, I was kicking ass and taking names in this damn ring. I made a legacy out of keeping my word. I brought the briefcase. You will get it tonight. I just want to make sure things are as they need to be.

Rivera: Fine.

Xplode: I want a match at Prestige. The stipulation is to be a retirement match.

The fans begin cheering loud once again!

Rivera: Wait. X, you ARE retired. This doesn’t seem to make sense at all. Your opponent has more to lose than you do.

Xplode: Exactly. I want it to be a retirement match. If I win, neither myself or my opponent ever steps in this damn ring again. You see, since my last match against my brother, I have heard over and over how he beat me. People have come to revere Oblivion like he is some sort of unbeatable legend around here, but that is far from the truth. There is only one man that can put the Big Dog down.. And that man is me. I want Oblivion at Prestige.. With that stipulation. It’s time that I set the damn record straight once and for all and show the world that Oblivion beating me.. Was just a damn fluke.

The fans start to respond with cheers now as Xplode paces around the ring.

Rivera: Fine. Consider it done. I am adding to this little-

Fireworks suddenly erupt from the stage area now! The fans stand up and look to the entrance.. As James Hart steps into view!

Gibson: James Hart? He is here? I think he chose a bad time to make his debut..

Long: The best time if you ask me.

The camera pans to the ring where we see Xplode.

Xplode: Great job, Mark. You let one of the Backstreet Boys into the fed. Is this you way of making sure I honor our agreement?

Rivera: I had nothing to do with this.

James Hart walks to the edge of the stage as the fans boo him.

Hart: Hello Boys! You know, I think I have had about enough of you two taking up good T.V time. I overheard your comment about the kiddies in the back and I figured, why don’t I answer you personally? You see, if you have a problem with-

Xplode: Wait.. Wait. Children’s Day is scheduled to be next month, Son. Now Mommy and Daddy are talking right now. Head on back to whatever playground you sprung out of, and let us finish grown folks business.

Hart: Is that so? Since I am no threat to you, why not have my debut match be against the Strategic Assassin himself? What do you say, X? Put up or shut up?

Skyler is shown shouting at Hart as Xplode turns to stare at Rivera. Xplode then begins to hand the briefcase to Rivera but hangs on to it.

Xplode: Make the damn match. At the next show.. I want to punish this kid.

Rivera then nods his head and accepts the briefcase. He looks into it, and a shocked look forms upon his face!!

Gibson: OH WOW! LOOK AT RIVERA! This must be big!

Xplode turns to James Hart once more and begins to speak as he leans against the ropes.

Xplode: Kid, I have more ring time than you have shower time. You better start eating your wheaties… because in two weeks, your ass belongs to me!

The fans begin cheering as James Hart nods with no fear shown upon his face! He takes of his baseball cap and throws it into the crowd before exiting to the backstage area once again. Mark Rivera closes the briefcase in the ring and looks at Xplode with a very concerned look upon his face… as the feed fades out.

(End of Broadcast)

The EUW-Asylum would like to thank everyone involved with the making of this show, from the staff to it’s members. Remember, for every winner, there is a loser. When you take things too seriously, it makes the invisible line where a hobby meets reality fade away. This only detracts from the fun factor for all involved. So please, enjoy this hobby as it was meant to be enjoyed. We put a little extra love into this show to make things exciting but there is the chance that not everybody may be happy with it. As they say, “You can’t please them all.” We did try to though.