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Thread: Cycle 39: Fallout: Rebirth/Meltdown XVII - Fallout 019/Meltdown XIX

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    Cycle 39: Fallout: Rebirth/Meltdown XVII - Fallout 019/Meltdown XIX

    … presents …

    Date: Friday 22nd July, 2022.
    Venue: Roughs Tower, the Principality of Sealand.

    LIVE from the Principality of Sealand in the North Sea, Fallout, Incorporated, Mr. Rupert Watkins, and Mr. Cal Robinson bring you 'FALLOUT: REBIRTH', airing only on the R.W.Network. The R.W.Network is a brand new streaming service featuring the world's best sport, news, and entertainment, and is available for only $1.99* per month for new subscribers! Go to NOW to begin your subscription: the ONLY place that you can watch Fallout, the hottest, most talked about promotion in professional wrestling today!

    * $1.99 is a special promotional price available to new subscribers only. After the first month, customers will be charged $28.99 per month until the subscription is cancelled. Subscription can be cancelled at any time with two month's written notice. Full terms and conditions are available on

    for the Fallout Television Championship.
    Shawn Summers vs. Jackson Fenix vs. Konchu Hao vs. Yuna Funanori vs. Phillip A. Jackson vs. Chris Peacock.
    Six-Pack Challenge.

    Fallout prepares to crown a new champion in the inaugural match of its inaugural show, with the Fallout Television Championship on the line in this six-pack challenge. Six of Fallout's brightest stars will compete for the honour of being crowned the first champion in this lineage, in a match that will be contested under elimination rules.

    Uncle J.J. JAY! and Quiet vs. PONI BOI.
    Tag Team Match.

    Fallout's commitment to tag team wrestling is on display as two of its newest signees, international K-pop sensations PONI BOI, prepare to tackle Uncle J.J. JAY! and Quiet of the Nephews. Both of these new teams will no doubt have one eye on the Men Out Of Time and their main event opponents as the Fallout World's Tag Team Championshipship picture begins to hot up.

    XYZ vs. Jeremy Best.
    Singles Match.

    Two of Fallout's best will go head to head in what is Fallout: Rebirth's only one-on-one singles match. Jeremy Best will be joined at ringside, of course, by his partner and ally Bryan Baxter, with the two no doubt interested in the outcomes of the tag team matches occurring either side of this contest. Both men will be looking to start off their Fallout careers with a victory and place their names in the conversation regarding championship opportunities.

    for the Fallout World’s Tag Team Championships.
    Men Out Of Time [Stu Grimes and Cornelius Aurelius Caesar] [c] vs. Bad Reputation [Kayden Knox and Gabrielle].
    Tag Team Match.

    Rebirth's main event will see the second championship match of the evening, as Stu Grimes and Cornelius Aurelius Caesar of Men Out Of Time prepare to put their Fallout World's Tag Team Championships on the line against Kayden Knox and Gabrielle, part - alongside Danny Toner - of Executive Excellence. When asked why Gabrielle and Knox had been given this opportunity in Fallout's first ever show, Rupert Watkins commented "I don't think there's any doubt that Ms. Montgomery and Mr. Knox have earned this shot. The whole 'wrestling world' is talking about them, or so Cal tells me. I wish them the best of luck." The buzz surrounding Gabrielle and Kayden - otherwise known as 'Bad Reputation' - would certainly only grow if they were to bring more gold back to the Executive Excellence stable.

    Danny Toner addresses the fans after his Fallout World's Championship victory.

    Arguably the most anticipated event of Fallout: Rebirth will be fan favourite Danny Toner entering the ring with a microphone in his hand and a world waiting on his words. Toner, who claimed the richest prize in professional wrestling after a decade of arduous toil, can expect a hero's reception on Roughs Tower, and will no doubt shed light on the new professional relationships we've seen from over the past fortnight.

    L.A. - Sunday 17th July at 23.59(PM)
    New York - Monday 18th July at 03:00(AM)
    Newport Pagnall - Monday 18th July at 08:00(AM)
    Istanbul - Monday 18th July at 10:00(AM).
    Melbourne - Monday 18th July at 17:00(AM).

    Extensions are available upon request, so long as:
    - it is at least 24 hours before deadline.
    - nobody in your match has submitted their promo.

    Extensions granted:
    Kayden Knox (OMB)
    Gabrielle (ETE)
    Stu Grimes (SS)
    Caesar (Oz)
    Jeremy Best (Dubb)
    XYZ (TGO)
    Konchu Hao (Cyrus Truth)
    Shawn Summers (Comeback Kid)
    Yuna Funanori (AON)
    PAJ (PheTomenal)
    Chris Peacock (Spider-Man)
    Jackson Fenix (Jimmy King)
    Last edited by Spider-Man; 07-25-2022 at 12:04 PM.

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    Meltdown XVII | One Year Anniversary Show | Card and Promo Discussion

    from the Estadio Azteca in Mexico City, Mexico

    July 25th, 2022
    Meltdown XVII


    Chris Crowe had the unenviable task of defending his North American Championship in a four way ladder match at Back in Business, but defied the odds (through a fair few nefarious means) by retaining his championship. But as is the sorrowful fate of any champion, one must always anticipate where the next challenge will come from. Johnny "The Legend" Johnson, one of the three men who challenged for the belt at Back in Business, will have a chance to get a straight forward singles opportunity if he can emerge victorious tonight. He'll have to face off with a former rival of his, Lizzie Rose, who he once defeated and sent to the hospital bed in 2021.

    Lizzie is coming off the biggest win of her career, a victory over Fallout, Incorporated star and FWA legend Gabrielle at the biggest stage of them all. She now seeks to take the next step in a burgeoning career by avenging her past loss to Johnny Johnson and taking her shot at one of FWA's grandest prizes.




    - Set for one fall, 30 minute time limit
    - Lizzie Rose (0-0 since BIB XVI)
    - Johnny Johnson (0-0 since BIB XVI)


    For Cthulhu's Nephews, it was a mixed bag of success and misery at Back in Business. While Thomas West lost in the main event of the biggest show in professional wrestling, before being used as an example of Fallout Incorporated's plot to depart from the FWA Union, Michelle achieved perhaps the greatest accomplishment possible in professional wrestling, a victory over Chris Kennedy and the end of the streak. But the honeymoon period is already over and she has to set her sights on the new wrestling year in a company that has neither of the belts she once sought to claim for herself. She teams up with her regular partner Gerald Grayson who was absent at Back in Business, and her Nephews cohort Thomas West tonight in a trios showdown.

    On the opposite side of the ring is going to be an all-star team of North American Champion Chris Crowe, "The Rotten Gold" Devin Golden, and "The Exile" Cyrus Truth. There is bound to be some shakiness on this side of the ring with Truth undoubtedly being ill-at-ease with the actions of Crowe's manager and good friend Crazy Harry at the PPV. Furthermore, Devin Golden will be recovering from a brutal match against Chris Peacock, and undoubtedly more focused on his missing (now, revealed to be stolen) belt. Can the three put aside personal concerns to focus on this challenge against the Nephews. One thing that may put the trio at ease is that Crazy Harry will reportedly not be at ringside for this match.

    In honor of the locale for this evening, this trios match will be done in Lucha 2 out of 3 falls rules with each team having a designated captain (Michelle von Horrowitz & Chris Crowe). To achieve ONE fall, a team must either pin the captain, or both other members. Tag rules are lenient and a wrestling rolling out of the ring will be considered as a tag.

    ("the daredevil" gerald grayson, "dreamer" michelle von horrowitz, & "the king of deathmatch" thomas west)



    - Set for two out of three falls, 30 minute time limit
    - Gerald Grayson (0-0 since BIB XVI), Michelle von Horrowitz (0-0 since BIB XVI), Thomas West (0-0 since BIB XVI)
    - Chris Crowe (0-0 since BIB XVI), Cyrus Truth (0-0 since BIB XVI), Devin Golden (0-0 since BIB XVI)



    Sawyer Xavier was curiously missing at Back in Business despite a challenge being laid out to him at the event. Rumors are swirling that the young athlete is dissatisfied with his position in the company, particularly after being relegated to what some have dubbed a "sideshow" match at the grand stage. These rumors have not circulated well among the Meltdown staff room and this is in large part why this match has been enacted.

    Resident Meltdown hitman Jason Randall will face off with Sawyer Xavier in an X Match where anything goes. It's unfamiliar territory for Sawyer Xavier against one of the best wrestlers to have done it. Coming off his own failure to win the North American Championship, Jason Randall will surely be motivated to brutalize his youthful opponent as much as he possibly can. Will Xavier show the Meltdown (and perhaps wider wrestling world) that he's been overlooked, or will Randall deliver the message the Meltdown brass is intent on sending?




    - Set for one fall, X Rules, 20 minute time limit
    - Jason Randall (0-0 since BIB XVI)
    - Sawyer Xavier (0-0 since BIB XV)



    At Back in Business, Saint Sulley went one on one with his former partner Joe Burr in a brutal showdown that effectively saw the end of Joe Burr in the FWA and Meltdown. Sulley now returns to focus on what has been a year long journey to this point, and a championship-less drought. He will have his cousin Bullet Broc at his side as the pair begin their pursuit of tag team gold. With Sulley doubling down on the brutality that once made him the greatest X Champion to have ever been, the wider wrestling world will have to wonder if this marks a return to prominence from the former Triple Champion.

    On the opposite side of the ring, the HWA will face off with two individuals who are more than comfortable with a little blood. Reagan Cole had a showdown with independent wrestling rival Jeffry Mason in one of the bloodiest and vicious matches that the FWA has ever seen. While Cole will undoubtedly be bandaged up for the evening, he's always shown himself ready to compete when his name is called. He will have the returning Crimson Ghost at his side. Aka Yurei and Reagan Cole very nearly made history when they almost ended the reign of Golden Rock, and they will try to channel that brief spark as they reunite.

    One question that will be hovering high above this match is a rumor that there may be more on the line than simple bragging rights. With the FWA now without its tag team championships, one must think it's only a matter of time before Meltdown unveils a pair of belts for its competitors to fight over.

    (bullet broc & saint sulley)



    - Set for one fall, TV Time remaining
    - Bullet Broc (0-0 since BIB XVI), Saint Sulley (0-0 since BIB XVI)
    - Aka Yurei (0-0 since BIB XVI), Reagan Cole (0-0 since BIB XVI)

    Match Order:
    1. Johnny Johnson v. Lizzie Rose
    2. The Nephews v. The Meltdown God Squad
    3. Jason Randall v. Sawyer Xavier
    4. HWA v. Yurei & Cole

    Extensions allowed for this show. Post should go up by the deadline, and there are fifteen minutes of grace period afterwards (nothing should be edited past 15 minutes after the deadline, and nothing should be posted after the deadline). It's best not to wait till the last second because WC is fickle as fuck and there's always coding issues.

    If you don't meet the deadline, it will be up to your opponents to unanimously allow your promo to count (unless it's like an hour past deadline, then you're out of luck).


    Promo Deadline:
    Wednesday 20th July at 11:59 PM Pacific Time.
    Thursday 21st
    July at 2:59 AM Eastern Standard Time
    Thursday 21st July at 7:59 AM British Standard Time
    Thursday 21st July at 10:59 AM Moscow Standard Time
    Thursday 21st July at 5:59 PM Australian Eastern Standard Time and Chamarro Standard Time

    Segment/Match Writing Deadline:
    Sunday 24th July at 11:59 PM Pacific Time.
    Monday 25th
    July at 2:59 AM Eastern Standard Time
    Monday 25th July at 7:59 AM British Standard Time

    Posting Date:
    Monday 25th July at a time to be determined.

    Last edited by GeneralSecretary; 07-13-2022 at 11:06 AM.

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    Re: Fallout | “Rebirth” | Promo Thread




    It’s night one of Back in Business XVI, and the fans saw a spectacular match between The Buddy System and The Undisputed Alliance; everyone is happy that Best and Baxter prevailed over Fenix and Savage, well, almost everyone. For obvious reasons, Fenix and Savage are not satisfied. At this moment, Nate Savage has no idea where he’s at due to getting clocked in the head with brass knuckles by Bryan Baxter, so it’s safe to say that only Fenix is sharing a good amount of unhappiness for the both of them. Fenix has one arm over Nate’s shoulder to help guide him, and while he’s doing this, he’s also nursing his crotch after a blatant and uncalled-for low blow at the hands of Big Bird.

    Jackson Fenix: “Come on, bro, can you at least try to walk faster so I don’t have to practically drag you around?! Get out of the way, two injured superstars walking through!”

    Fenix pushes past a few stagehands and backstage workers before reaching the medical bay. He shoves the door with one hand and drags Nate inside the room where FWA’s resident doctor, Dr. Smith, looks somewhat taken aback by what is transpiring in front of him.

    Dr. Smith: “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

    Jackson Fenix: “Yeah, you can help us; I think Nate has a concussion, and I also need you to look at my dick!”

    Dr. Smith’s mouth is agape now as he’s at a loss for words in the last part of that sentence.

    Jackson Fenix: “Are you just going to sit there like a bump on a log, or will you help us?!”

    Nate Savage: “Please stop yelling.”

    Dr. Smith: “Well, what you just described is a lot to take in.”

    Nate Savage: “That’s what she said.”

    Jackson Fenix: “Dammit, Nate, that’s my joke!”

    Dr. Smith rolls his eyes in annoyance at their juvenile humor.

    Jackson Fenix: “Come on, why are you just standing there like an idiot?! We’re the two most important people in this company; assist us!”

    Nate Savage: “Again, with the yelling, please stop.”

    Nate winces as he holds his head, and Dr. Smith briefly looks over him before holding two fingers in front of him.

    Dr. Smith: “Mr. Savage, how many fingers am I holding up?”

    Nate Savage: “Uhhh, two?”

    Jackson Fenix: “Is he cured?”

    Dr. Smith: “What? No, he doesn’t need any curing because he doesn’t have a concussion. He just got knocked a little loopy, that’s all. As a precaution, I should advise you to take it a little easy for the remainder of the evening.”

    Nate Savage: “Can I at least have something to help alleviate this headache?”

    Smith hands Nate an ice pack, a small bottle of aspirin, and a bottle of water. Nate throws back an aspirin, washes it down with some water, and places the ice pack against his forehead.

    Dr. Smith: “One down, now I’m afraid to ask, but besides the obvious, what seems to be your problem?”

    Jackson Fenix: “It’s my dick, well actually just my balls.”

    Dr. Smith: “I can’t believe I’m going to ask, but can you please describe the pain you’re feeling?”

    Jackson Fenix: “I don’t know, they just hurt, like A LOT!”

    Dr. Smith sighs in annoyance and rubs his index finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose.

    Dr. Smith: “What caused them to hurt a lot?”

    Nate Savage: “He was hit with a low blow by Big Bird in our match with The Buddy System. Yeah, it’s as strange as it sounds.”

    Jackson Fenix: “Who does that big yellow bitch even think he is?! He had no right being here tonight and getting involved in our match! I didn’t even cause that fire at Sesame Street that one time; that’s all on that hack wizard Konchu! We would have won that match tonight if it weren’t for that damn bird sticking his beak in our business!”

    Nate Savage: “Yeah, well, we didn’t win, did we? Can we speed this along, please? I want nothing more than to go lay down in bed in my hotel room and forget about this night, so let’s hurry this up.”

    Dr. Smith: “Fair enough, a low blow? That’s it?

    Jackson Fenix: “Yeah, man, it hurts. Can you help me?”

    Smith grabs another ice pack and hands it to Jackson. Fenix looks at the ice pack before placing it gently on his genitals and lets out a sigh of relief.

    Dr. Smith: “Well, that about covers it, unless you gentlemen need anything else from me?”

    Jackson Fenix: “Yeah, one quick question? Are you even a real doctor? Like medically licensed and all that?”

    Dr. Smith: “Uh, yes, why do you need to know that?”

    Nate Savage: “It doesn’t matter; come on, let’s go, Jack.”

    Nate begins to leave the room, and Jackson gingerly gets up to follow him.

    Jackson Fenix: “It does matter; it’s an honest question!”

    Nate Savage: “Not everyone is a fake doctor like Dr. Phil or Dr. Oz; now come on!”

    The two friends begin bickering as Smith shuts the door behind them and shakes his head in disbelief at what he just had to endure.


    It’s been about a week since the events of Back in Business and since we saw our friends, The Undisputed Alliance. We now join the duo at some random fast food chain in Los Angeles, where they’ve met up before flying out of the states again for Fallout: Rebirth. Nate is at the counter of this fast food establishment making his order while Jackson is off waiting at the booth. Nate chose to stay in Los Angeles with Jackson (who resides in LA) for a few days before they flew out, but not before Nate had gone home to spend some quality time with his family.

    Nate Savage: “Give me a double bacon cheeseburger.”

    The worker, a young man with unkempt hair, looks to be in his early 20s. He leans down to speak into the microphone to his co-worker.

    Worker: “Double bacon cheeseburger, it’s for this wrestler.”

    Nate Savage: “What the hell’s that all about, huh? Are you going to spit in it now?

    Worker: “No, I just told him that, so he makes it good.”

    He leans down to speak again.

    Worker: “Don’t spit in his burger.”

    Nate Savage: “Yeah, thanks.”

    Worker #2: “Roger that, holding the spit.”

    Nate Savage: “Gimme a pie, apple.”

    Worker: “Want me to hold the spit? Ha ha, just kidding there, Nate Savage, we’re just big fans, and we saw your match at Back in Business.”

    Nate looks unimpressed by this and looks like he wants his food.

    Worker: “Do you want to supersize that for 25 cents?”

    Nate Savage: “Do you want me to punch-a-size your face for free?”

    We cut over to Jackson sitting in the booth on his phone. He’s wearing his usual Britney Spears t-shirt and jeans while he has his hair tied back in a ponytail.

    Jackson Fenix: “Thank you for this opportunity; you won’t regret it!”

    He ends the call and turns around to see some commotion between the worker and Nate. Jackson sighs at this and runs over to see if he can try to smooth things between the two.

    Worker: “It’s only 25 cents, and look how much more you get.”

    Nate Savage: “I said NO!”

    Jackson Fenix: “Listen, bro, he doesn’t want it.”

    Nate Savage: “I can handle this, Jack; I don’t want it!”

    Worker: “Alright, uh, beverage?”

    Nate Savage: “Gimme a uh, liter of diet cola.”

    Worker: “A what?”

    Nate Savage: “A liter of diet cola.”

    Nate responds, a hint of annoyance towards the young worker, who leans down to speak into the intercom to his co-workers in the back.

    Worker: “One liter of diet cola. Do we make a liter of diet cola?”

    Jackson Fenix: “Just order a large Nate.”

    Nate Savage: “I don’t want a large Nate; I want a goddamn liter of diet cola!”

    Worker: “I don’t know what that is!”

    Nate reaches across the counter and grabs the worker by the collar while Jackson tries to hold him back.

    Nate Savage: “Liter is french for gimme some fuckin’ diet cola before I break VOUS FUCKIN’ LIP!”

    Worker: “Alright, alright, relax!”


    A few minutes later, we rejoin the friends at their booth. Nate has his meal while Jackson sits across from him, eating his meal. Nate inspects his burger and leans over to show Jackson something.

    Nate Savage: “Does that look like spit to you?”

    Jackson Fenix: “Yeah.”

    Nate Savage: “Eh, fuck it.”

    Nate takes a big bite out of his burger.

    Nate Savage: “Another unsuccessful Back in Business.”

    Nate says between his chewing.

    Jackson Fenix: “Yeah, but I think things will look up soon for us.”

    Nate swallows and then takes another bite from his burger before speaking.

    Nate Savage: “Why do you say that?”

    Jackson Fenix: “I just got a call from the higher-ups at Fallout, and I will be in a six-pack challenge at the next show to crown the first ever Fallout TV Champion!”

    Nate Savage: “What about me? What do they have lined up for me?”

    Jackson Fenix: “As far as I know, they don’t have anything for you. Sorry bro, but when I win this match and become the first ever Fallout TV Champion, it’ll be for both of us!”

    Nate thinks about it and shrugs before taking another bite.

    Nate Savage: “Fair enough, I could use a week off, but I’ll still be in your corner. By the way, who are you facing?”

    Jackson Fenix: “Uh, Shawn Summers.”

    Nate Savage: “Dickhead”

    Jackson Fenix: “Konchu Hao.”

    Nate Savage: “Hack”

    Jackson Fenix: “Yuna Funanori.”

    Nate Savage: “Simpleton.”

    Jackson Fenix: “Phillip A. Jackson.”

    Nate Savage: “Fake.”

    Jackson Fenix: “How is he a fake?”

    Nate Savage: “Because you’re the only Jackson on Fallout. This guy is nothing more than an impostor.”

    Jackson Fenix: “Oh, yeah, true. Last but certainly least, Chris Peacock. I’m looking forward to giving that disco dork a super kick!”

    Nate Savage: “I don’t think he likes disco anymore, or that’s not his gimmick anymore. I don’t know; I don’t necessarily care. I know Uncle used to call him disco baby or something and now calls him boogie baby. Bunch of weirdos, if you ask.”

    Jackson Fenix: “Boogie baby back bitch is more like it!”

    Nate Savage: “That’s right, none of these other mouth breathers stand a chance. You’ve got this one in the bag.”

    Jackson Fenix: “Hell yeah, bro, easy as pie!”

    Nate Savage: “Speaking of pie….”

    Nate grabs his apple pie and takes a bite from it. He smiles as he savors the sweet taste of his treat; meanwhile, Jackson is staring off into nowhere as Jackson begins to imagine what happens if he wins at Fallout: Rebirth.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Everyone is laid out, except for Peacock and Fenix!”

    The bodies of Konchu Hao, Shawn Summers, Yuna Funanori, and PAJ are all strewn about, and the only two left standing are Fenix and Peacock.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “I still can’t believe the chaos that’s gone down in this match, Price! I can’t believe Konchu blinded himself with his own pocket sand, allowing Jackson Fenix to superkick him into oblivion!”

    Allen Price: “What about when Fenix single-handedly superkicked Summers, Yuna, and PAJ all in one swift move! One kick took out three competitors! I think I saw Summers’ neck tattoo get knocked off from the impact of the kick!”

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “That probably explains his uncontrollable sobbing in the corner; he loves that neck tattoo so much!

    Allen Price: “That or he realizes how much better Fenix is than him!”

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Yuna got kicked so hard she probably thinks she’s a pirate for real! And PAJ was kicked back into retirement!”

    Allen Price: “All the while, my meal ticket, Chris Peacock, stood there and did absolutely nothing! He was completely useless! I should fire him as a client and hire Jackson Fenix! He’s much cooler, much better looking, and has a bigger dick too!”

    Peacock stands there and Fenix with Superkick Me Baby One More Time! That’s not all, though…SIN CITY HANGOVER! Wait, he’s still not finished…CALIFORNIA DREAMIN’! Peacock is definitely out of it now as Fenix drops down for the cover!


    Natalie Rosenberg: “Here is your winner and new Fallout TV Champion, Jackson Fenix! Jackson, I wanna have your babies!”

    Jackson is handed the title by his friend, Nate Savage, and Savage helps him up.

    Nate Savage: “You did it, buddy, you did it!”

    Jackson Fenix: “No, we did it!”

    The two friends hug, and the crowd cheers for the friendship.

    Jackson Fenix: “Now, let’s go party!”


    Cut to the celebratory party full of various celebrities, and we find Nate Savage sitting with the new champion, dressed to the nines with his title around his waist.

    Nate Savage: “How does it feel to be the new champ?!”

    Jackson Fenix: “It feels great!”

    Nate Savage: “I knew you could do it!”

    Jackson Fenix: “Piece of cake!”

    Nate Savage: “Cake?! I want some cake!”

    Nate runs off to get some cake, and Jackson is left alone. He takes a sip of his fancy drink, and he’s enjoying his new lease on life.

    “Um, excuse me, are you Jackson Fenix?”

    Jackson Fenix: “Yeah, who’s ask….”

    Jackson stops mid-sentence as he sees the woman that asked him the question; it’s none other than pop princess Britney Spears!

    Jackson Fenix: “You’re…you’re…you’re….”

    Jackson is stumbling with his words as he’s stunned to see his lifelong crush standing before him.

    Britney Spears: “That’s right, and you must be Jackson Fenix?”

    Jackson Fenix: “Yeah, uh…that’s me.”

    Britney Spears: “I just wanted to say that I’m such a big fan, and I wanted to congratulate you on your big win tonight! You deserved it way more than anyone else in that match!”

    Jackson Fenix: “It was no big deal, but yeah, you’re right about that.”

    Britney Spears: “I was also wondering if the rumors were true about…you know.”

    She motions to his crotch and Jackson smirks.

    Jackson Fenix: “Oh yeah. Do you want me to show you?”

    Britney nods with a smile and follows Jackson into another room, but Jackson is snapped back into reality before we can find out what happens.

    Nate Savage: “Jack, hello? Earth to Jackson!”

    Jackson finally snaps out of his daydream and finds that he’s still in the fast food restaurant, he’s not a TV Champion, and he’s not living out his fantasy with Britney Spears.

    Nate Savage: “Are you okay there, bud?”

    Jackson Fenix: “Yeah, just daydreaming.”

    Nate Savage: “Well, pretty soon, you’ll make that dream a reality!”

    Jackson nods in agree when Nate notices something different about his cup of diet cola, so he inspects it and removes a sticker from the side of it, and diet cola spills out of it onto his face.

    Nate Savage: “Dammit, you burger punk! You son of a bitch!”

    Nate jumps up from the table, charges back to the counter, jumps over, and tackles the worker while Jackson tries to stop him.

    Nate might be in the wrong for attacking that burger employee, but he was right about one thing. Jackson will make that dream a reality at Fallout: Rebirth when he becomes the first-ever Fallout TV Champion.
    Rest in power, Flock U
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    Re: Fallout | “Rebirth” | Promo Thread

    Chapter 1: Easy Peasy

    What a difference twenty four hours can make.

    It had been just one day before that Jeremy Best and Bryan Baxter were on top of the world after their big win at Back in Business over The Undisputed Alliance. Not to mention the reunion of Jeremy and Big Bird. What a night it had been.

    But now as Bryan Baxter leaned against the wall outside the locker room door twenty-four hours later, the mood had definitely changed.

    Together the pair had sat down to watch the events of Night 2.

    Together the pair witnessed the unthinkable.

    Jeremy had been on the edge of his seat watching his friend and hero Krash battle it out in a gruesome, unsanctioned brawl throughout the night with Randy Ramon. But never did Jeremy think he’d be watching his idol, along with Randy Ramon, falling into the Quinta da Boa Vista lake only for neither of them to emerge afterward.

    “He’s okay, right?” a concerned Jeremy turned to his friend and tag team partner.

    A stunned Bryan Baxter had no response.


    Still no response.

    How do you tell someone this kind of news? The kind of news that could turn their world completely upside down. The kind of news that could bring your friend's whole world crashing down around them? The news that the man Jeremy held so near and dear to his heart may never emerge from those waters. It certainly didn’t look promising.

    Bryan decided it best to give Jeremy some time to himself. This is why now Bryan was leaning against the wall outside the locker room…just waiting. Waiting to see what condition Jeremy would be in when he exited those doors.

    Bryan had not had much interaction with Krash since his arrival in FWA but he was certainly familiar with his work. The old Bryan Bastard would’ve told Jeremy to suck it up and encourage him to go out and celebrate their BiB win. A real night out on the town. Just live it up! But even if Krash wasn’t his favorite person, Bryan had learned to empathize with his friend.

    Such a shitty situation, Bryan thought to himself. Jeremy’s not usually the type to mope or be sad. But the whole Jackson Fenix situation had gotten him into a funk and luckily Baxter had been able to kick that leading up to BiB.

    But here we are again…another situation that will certainly have Jeremy down in the dumps.

    What could he possibly do to cheer up his buddy? Given his own recovering alcoholic status, drinks were certainly off the table. Plus, Jeremy’s not much of a drinker, and when he is, he’s the lightest of lightweights you’ll ever find.

    If it were Bryan, ordering a couple of strippers up would probably fit the description. Or try to find a ring rat to spend the night with. That’d definitely cheer him up.

    But none of that would work on Jeremy.

    Bryan was alerted by the creaking of the locker room doors. He prepared himself for the worst, ready to offer a rare big, warm, bear hug to his depressed friend.

    But Bryan didn’t expect what he actually got.

    Jeremy walked out of the locker room with a big grin on his face.

    Bryan was certainly taken aback. “Are…you okay?”

    Jeremy chuckled and gave his pal a pat on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Bryan.”

    “Really? You’re…just…fine with what happened?”

    “Oh. No. What happened was just awful. Terrible. The absolute worst. But it’s going to be okay.”

    Bryan released a big sigh of relief. “I gotta say, I was worried about how you were gonna take this. The possibility of never seeing Krash again…I thought it might actually break you.”

    “See, that’s just the thing…it’s going to be okay. Because Krash is going to be okay.”

    Bryan raised one eyebrow. “How can you be so sure. Dude, I hate to be a Debbie Downer but it looks pretty damn bleak.”

    “It’s going to be okay. Krash is still out there…and I’m gonna be the one to find him. I’m not gonna let this be the end. Not yet. I’ve just barely got here to FWA. Our friendship was destined to be legendary. And no little body of water is gonna stop that.”

    “I…think you need to get some sleep.”

    “There’s no time for sleep, Bryan! Krash is out there somewhere…cold, alone, and afraid. I wouldn’t be a true friend if I just let this happen. I’m going to go get my friend.”

    “This is crazy talk.”

    “Maybe. But maybe not! I’d do the same for you if you were in trouble! For any of my friends.”

    “Look, Jeremy..I know you think highly of Krash and all…but…”

    Jeremy put one finger up to the lips of Bryan, hushing him up immediately. “Don’t try to talk me out of this. This is something I have to do. If Krash is out there somewhere in need of help - I could never live with myself if I didn’t at least TRY.”

    Bryan solemnly nodded, realizing that while to him this made absolutely no sense and was the definition of a fool’s errand, there was no talking Jeremy out of this. His mind was made up. In his head, Krash was okay and it was going to be another “happy ending” for Jeremy…and not the ones from the strippers Bryan was thinking about earlier.

    “Okay…man, listen. I’m here for you. This seems crazy but I’ve told you all along, I got your back. That’s what I’m here for. So if you want to go on a quest to save your friend…then you just tell me what I have to do and where to be, and I’ll be there. But I just don’t think this is something you can pull off alone. I think…you’re gonna need some…help. Like some professionals..

    Jeremy’s perked up, and not just because Bryan was actually seemingly going along with his idea after all. But because an idea had begun to brew inside that head of his.

    “You’re right! Bryan, you’re a genius!”

    Those were words rarely if ever, have been said together in the same sentence. “I am?” Bryan questioned, just as surprised as anyone that someone would say that to him.

    “This is no ordinary task that I’m about to embark on. I think you’re right. I think I will need help.”

    “Oh thank God,” Bryan said with another sigh of relief. He had finally talked some sense into him.

    “And I know JUST the person.”

    Bryan nodded along until he realized that Jeremy just said person. Not people.

    “Wait, person? I was saying like…you know…the cops. Maybe paramedics? Firefighters? I don’t know, people trained in search and rescue?”

    “Sure…all those people are great folks who have important jobs to do. BUT - they have a lot of things to worry about and if they don’t find Krash in the first 72 hours, they’re gonna write him off. What if it takes longer? We’re already lost what…3 hours….of that? I was thinking of someone a little more specialized.”

    “I’m totally lost. What the Hell are you talking about?”


    “What? Did Jackson’s superkick do that bad of a number on you? I think you’re losing it. Big Bird isn’t here anymore and we’re certainly not on Sesame Street. There’s no need to teach anyone the alphabet.”

    “No, XYZ. The wrestler! From Fallout!”

    “Um…wait, you mean the guy you’re scheduled against on the next Fallout?”


    “You want to go…to him… Your opponent. For help?”

    “But of course. He’s something of a superhero, Bryan. If anyone can help us find Krash, it’s him.”

    “I don’t know,” Bryan said, very unsure of this idea. Jeremy’s no stranger to being way too trusting of people and seeking out your upcoming opponent for help just screams bad idea.

    “I thought I had your FULL support.”

    Jeremy had him there. “You’re right. You’re right,” Bryan reluctantly gave in. “So you seek out this XYZ exactly are you going to convince him to track down Krash?”

    “He seems to be a guy who wants to do good in the world. I have no doubt I’ll be able to convince him that Krash being found safe and sound is not just what’s best for the FWA…but for the world! Should be easy, peasy!”

    Bryan certainly had his doubts, but Jeremy was convinced. For him, there was no turning back. To save his hero, he’d have to find a different kind of hero to help him. And the fact that that person just happened to be his opponent was either a happy or inconvenient coincidence…which of those it would actually be, remained to be seen.

    And so, the journey began.

    = = = = = = = = = =
    Easy peasy.

    That was the mantra Jeremy repeated to himself over and over again to prepare himself for approaching XYZ. The pair had not had much interaction with one another since each of their respective debuts, but both had earned the affinity of the fans. But with not much familiarity with the man, Jeremy wasn’t quite sure how to track him down.

    Like most heroes, XYZ had his own secluded hideout. His own Bat Cave. His own Fortress of Solitude, if you will. He referred to his as “The Hall.”

    And like most superheroes, it wasn’t easy to find.

    At all.

    For most people anyway.

    For Jeremy, it was actually…well…easy peasy.

    Jeremy actually found the info from a homeless guy. More specifically, a homeless guy was using a pamphlet as a napkin. A pamphlet that was advertising “The World Needs You” - a June 24th XYZite audition of sorts. Now, of course, June 24th has come and gone, but this was all the info Jeremy needed to get to where he needed to be.

    Approaching “The Hall” with nervous excitement, Jeremy approached the doors only to be met by a large, heavy-set man.

    “Who dares try to enter?”

    Jeremy smiled and waved. “Hi, good sir. My name is Jeremy Best and I’ve come seeking council with Mr. YZ.

    The larger man squinted his eyes as the sun glared down at them, trying to make out who this Jeremy person thinks he is.

    “Oh!” Jeremy exclaimed as he produced the soiled and heavily crumpled-up, outdated pamphlet. “This. I’m here about this.”

    Big Al took the paper and laughed. “You’re late. XYZ is not interviewing prospective XYZites today. You can come back next time.”

    “Oh, uhhh…when, might I ask, will there be a next time?”

    “When the time is right…you’ll know. You’ll know.”

    Big Al turned to head back through the doors of “The Hall” but a perplexed Jeremy stopped him. “Wait! This is of utmost importance. This is a matter of life or death! A man’s life hangs in the balance!”

    “Hmmm…this does sound like a job for X. Perhaps the time is now after all. Come with me.”

    Pleased, Jeremy readily followed Big Al into “The Hall” where they found the man in question, XYZ, sitting and twirling his green cape in his right hand.

    Al, my good man, I am feeling quite famished. Shall we take to the cosmos for a bite of lunch? I heard the Chili’s at Nebula Gamma Seven has amazing customer service.”

    Big Al cleared his throat, getting X’s attention and c causing him to look up from being mesmerized by the twirling of his cape to notice Big Al was not alone.

    “What do we have here? What do I owe the pleasure of my very own Fallout opponent, Jeremy The Best, gracing me with his presence?”

    “Mr. YZ, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.”

    “Technically, he hasn’t yet. I agreed to let you see if he’d agree to meet with you.”

    “Oh, I agree to agree to agree to meet with him. And you can call me X. So, what is the nature of this rendezvous?”

    I was hoping you could help. Someone is in grave danger and a man of your certain abilities, I thought there was no one else suited for such a rescue operation than you - Mr. X sir.”

    “Ahhhhh, and so you’ve come to the master for help. Not many people would look at their opponent as an ally. Or come to them in their time of need. You possess some unique attributes, Jeremy the Best. Tell me, who are we trying to save?”

    “It’s Krash.”

    X nodded his head. “I see. It’s certainly no secret to cosmos that you were quite fond of the one they called Krash. I too thought a lot of him. He was a good person, much like yourself. And it just so happens, I like good people.”

    “So…you’ll do it. You’ll help me find him?”

    “It is my duty to the galaxy to help those in need. To rid the world of injustice. To save the world from evil. And I’m always willing to come to the aid of an XYZite who seeks out my help.”

    “That’s great! I’m always happy to make a new friend. I’d love to be an XYZite! Where do I sign up?”

    XYZ and Big Al shared a look and both started to laugh.

    “Sign up! Al, he wants to SIGN UP.

    Big Al continued to laugh along with X. Jeremy joined in on the laughter, though he had no idea what they were laughing at.

    “Oh Jeremy, you are quite the novice, aren't you? One does not simply sign up to be an XYZite. One must pass the tests to become an XYZite. One must be judged by the Committee.”

    “Oh, I see. How long does that take? And who is on the Committee?”

    “It takes exactly as much time as it needs to take. And the Committee is Me. And Al.”

    “Oh....” Jeremy paused.

    “Well, that’s wonderful! Whatever it takes.”

    X turned to Big Al, “I do like him. I appreciate you bringing him to me, Al.”

    “I really appreciate this opportunity. I know you’re going to be judging me based on what attributes you find desirable in an XYZite but for me…the only attribute that matters is friendship. It’s what keeps us together. It’s what separates the good from the evil in this world. Without friendship, there would be no good. I’m sure of it. And I’d do anything for my friends. And I hope that through this journey we are about to embark on that I’ll be able to call you friend as well, Mr. X. But right now, there’s a friend of mine out there who a lot of people are already starting to forget about. There’s all this nonsense going on right now about Fallout Inc and whose side people are on, and that's like the only thing people seem to want to talk about…I don’t care about any of that. All I care about are my friends. All I care about is finding Krash and bringing him back to Fallout where he belongs. I will gladly take whatever test you want to throw at me, sir, because I am ready for them.”

    X simply smiled at Jeremy’s eagerness.

    “Your intentions seem both noble and honorable...."

    Jeremy smiled with glee at X's platitudes

    "HOWEVER, intentions are not everything. After all, it is said that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions."

    "With that in mind...let’s see what you’re really made of. Shall we begin?”

    Jeremy nodded. “I’m ready.”

    “Then, allow us to commence…”

    X was interrupted by a loud rumbling noise. He looked down, grabbing his stomach. “Actually, I realize now that I’m still quite famished. Say, Jeremy, would you like to join me for some lunch?”

    “Absolutely, I would.”

    “Splendid. I know just the place. A most wondrous place that has been the start of many a new friendship…"


    Being a fan of Chili’s Southwestern Egg Rolls, Jeremy was more than happy to agree to a lunch date with his potential new friend, X.

    The poetic nature of the moment was not lost on Jeremy. Making a new friend who happens to be a hero to go on a quest to rescue his own friend who happens to be his personal hero.

    It was the beginning of what truly could be a daunting, grueling journey. And who knows what type of test(s) XYZ had in store for Jeremy to determine his XYZite worthiness.

    Jeremy just kept his mantra going.

    Easy peasy.

    "Krash - we’re coming for ya buddy."

  5. #5
    Toxic Attraction
    OMB's Avatar

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    May 2017
    New York
    Rep Power
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    Re: Fallout | “Rebirth” | Promo Thread

    “This is it, folks! MOOT has Bad Reputation right where they want them. Stu Grimes is climbing to the top rope where below him lies a prone and injured Kayden Knox. You’ve got to say that this night has not gone to plan for Executive Excellence at all and it looks like we are mere seconds away from Stu Grimes & Caesar once again defending the titles!”

    Grimes leaps off the top rope in a spectacular show of athleticism for a man of his size, his body crashing onto Kayden, and we hear the official count; one, two, three! Kayden’s ribs felt like they had been crushed as Gabrielle pulls him out of the ring and carefully helps him to the back. As soon as they get to the gorilla position, Kayden collapses in a heap, clutching his sternum. Gabrielle shows immediate signs of concern as Kayden winces in pain, stooping down and gingerly placing a hand on his forearm.

    “I’ll be fine Gabi, it’s my pride that hurts more than anything.”

    Gabrielle nods her head. Her pride is hurting too. An embarrassing loss to Lizzie Rose was quickly forgotten when the newest incarnation of Executive Excellence had formed in front of the World. The formation of the stable offered Gabrielle a buffer; a way to quickly sidestep and keep herself in a prominent position as a new season of FWA – well, Fallout, Incorporated, she supposed – rolled out. But another setback is the last thing she needed.

    “I know that feeling all too well…”

    Kayden bares his teeth and cries out in frustration.

    “I don’t know what we could have done differently… I just know that this isn't the way it should have gone. We are better than them Gabi. I know we are. Why did we lose? What did we do wrong? Fuck!!!”

    Kayden angrily tosses an ice pack he had used on his ribs across the room, the wet splatter of the melted ice lessening the thud as it crashed against the wall.

    “They cheated us out of the moment we should have had - holding those Tag Team Championships high in the air. We should be the ones celebrating right now, not those two little dicked assholes.”

    Kayden seems a little taken aback for a moment at Gabrielle’s comment. Gabrielle’s eyes flicker and she averts her gaze from Kayden.

    “Maybe we’re just a little bit rusty as a team…”

    “Well, yeah… I guess they have been together for a while… everything they do is just in sync, they don’t even have to communicate – they’ve just got each other. Gabi… you know I trust you. I wouldn’t have done any of this without you. You’re my friend.”

    Gabrielle’s eyes immediately divert back to Kayden.

    “You’ve been a great friend to me as well, Kayden. We both know the struggles we’ve each had, we know what we both want, and we know how much it means to us. We’re better than that out there, we should NOT have lost that. No way.”

    As Gabrielle says her final words, they duo are suddenly alerted to another person’s presence. They look up and see the stunningly white teeth and smug smile of the World Champion, Danny Toner. Danny has what was known as the FWA World Championship draped across his right shoulder with the other championship that was once held by Devin Golden laying snugly on his left shoulder. Title names didn’t bother the stable – Danny is the champion of the world and that’s that. A combination of knowing they should be tag team champions of the world and Toner’s sudden appearance causes Kayden to stand up from the ground, still holding his ribs, while Gabrielle looks on.

    “Danny, look man-”

    “Don’t sweat it, Kayden. This shit happens, just… just come with me. Both of ya. I gotta little surprise.”

    Gabrielle and Kayden share a confused look before the three of them make their way out of the arena and into the parking lot down below. There are several empty spaces as quite some time has passed since the main event, and many of their colleagues have already hit the road. As they descend further down into the parking lot, Kayden turns to Gabrielle and discreetly whispers to her.

    “Where is he taking us?”

    Gabrielle shakes her head in a perplexed manner.

    “We’re in a lift, man. I can freakin’ hear you. As for where we’re going… you’ll see!”

    Toner looks rather excited but says nothing else as the three of them keep going further underground in the lift for what feels like an eternity. Kayden and Gabrielle are still not quite sure where they’re being led to. Rather disappointingly, it turns out to just an ordinary parking lot. Deep underground and hidden… but just a parking lot. Kayden and Gabrielle arch their eyebows but Toner, however, is bubbling with excitement and he leads them over towards something.

    “This… this is one of my most prized possessions. Though… technically… it’s Golden Rocks but, eh… Randy’s dead and possession is nine-tenths of the law!”

    It is covered up for now, but it is unmistakably a car. Could it possibly be? Danny looks around before handing a title to each of them and pulling back on the cover to reveal - TxR’s DeLorean! It's a thing of beauty and by now, a famed piece of the FWA lore. Danny fucking Toner’s time traveling fucking DeLorean! The silver door rises up as Toner turns to his comrades.

    “The two of you can beat MOOT. We all know it. So... what if I told you we can go back and get another chance at it?”

    Gabrielle and Kayden stare at one another before back at Toner with a puzzled look.

    “Danny… you don’t mean?”

    Toner bounces his eyebrows comically before grabbing something from inside the car. He holds a red apple in his hand and tosses it towards Kayden.

    “Kayden… take a bite.”

    Kayden hesitating obliges, biting into the apple. Danny starts up the car before reversing towards the end of the lot. He then begins to rev the engine.

    “Wait… is he gonna?”

    Toner puts the foot down and the car comes hurtling towards Gabrielle and Kayden who both move out of the way as Toner bullets by them at high-speed. As he zips by you can hear him yell:

    “88 MPH!!!”

    The two of them watch as it looks like Danny is about to hit the wall, when just a split second before he does in a flash of light he is gone. Kayden and Gabrielle turn to one another running down to where they last saw the car. A pair of flaming tire marks leading up the wall was the only sign that a car was just there.

    “What the fu-”

    Before Kayden can finish his sentence, there is a sound behind them. Like a boom of thunder and the crack of lightening. Kayden could see headlights in the distance. They take off towards it and see Toner coming out of the car and picking something up off the ground. Kayden and Gabrielle get closer, they see Toner has grabbed the apple. Toner wipes it off on his shirt before tossing it back at Kayden who grabs it, noticing that there is no bite mark.

    “Did Danny just solve World hunger???”

    She playfully applauds him as Danny comes to stand back with the tandem known as Bad Reputation.

    “So… Danny has figured out time travel.”

    Kayden states this, still unsure if he believes that. He then turns to the two of them.

    “Now what?”

    “Is this real? Like real, real? Just go back and right this wrong. Redo that match, just like that.”

    Exactly that. The two of you should go back in time. Do whatever you need to do. Then you set it back before the match and you win the titles. Simples.”

    “How exactly do we go about doing that?”

    “I mean… I don’t exactly know. I’m just the proud and handsome owner of this beast! What you do... where you go… that's up to you guys. I mean personally, I would go back and try to give MOOT every disadvantage possible. But that’s just me.”

    Danny flashes a cheeky grin as Kayden and Gabrielle both look at one another, nodding in agreement.

    “I’ve got an idea… I think you’re thinking the same thing.”

    Kayden leans into the car and clocks in a time and place. Gabrielle’s eyes light up as Danny nods his head approvingly. Gabrielle can barely contain her excitement.

    “That is absolutely perfect! They won't know what’s coming.”

    The two of them quickly jump in the car. Gabrielle is behind the wheel of this time machine with a huge smile on her face. Kayden sits in the passenger side closing his door shut. Danny leans in underneath the driver-side window. He shows Gabrielle and Kayden both the ins and outs of the DeLorean – well, he doesn’t show them where the secret compartment hiding his weed is, but, the general ins and outs. Satisfied he’s leaving his vessel is the hands of two worthy captains, he exits the vehicle and utters his goodbyes.

    “Treat her right, guys. Treat her right. As for you two… keep the eyes.

    The two nod assuredly, leaving Danny to watch like a proud mother as Gabrielle revs the engine up. She leans over to Kayden and kisses him on the cheek before putting her foot on the gas. They start to accelerate, the car starting to reach forty, fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty, and finally eighty-eight…

    Lights flicker and flash around and then with a bang! the car has reached its destination.

    Gabrielle jumps on the brakes bringing the car to a screeching halt. The parking lot they had been in has given way to a beautiful grassy field. The sound of waves hitting the beach in the distance can be heard as they both check in with one another.

    “Gabi, you okay?”

    “I’m fine. That actually worked? Are you okay?”

    Kayden nods his head before he then steps out of the car. There are huge mountains all around them now. Miles away, in the distance, they can see a giant white stone structure that seems to dominate the landscape. The Roman Colosseum. Kayden turns to Gabrielle with a sigh.

    “It seems like we are a little off, what should we do now?”

    “We have to get over there. But I think we might stand out a bit like this. I don't think the Romans ever quite dressed like this.”

    Gabrielle holds out her arms, showing off just how tight and revealing her leather ring gear is. Even at a Roman orgy the amount of cleavage she’s showing off would turn some heads.

    “Yeah, you’re probably right. We should hide the car, get some clothes head into town. I saw a cave just over there. Do you think it will be safe?”

    “It’ll have to be won't it? As long as no one is out here… we should be good.”

    They take a few moments to drive the car into the cave, stashing it away from anyone who may happen to come by.

    “Alright, now all we have to do is wait for some sucker to come by. We can steal their clothes, hopefully their horses too and we ride into town. I’ve got an idea but it’s a little...”

    Any idea is a good idea right now.”

    “Men are predictable, right? In any time.”

    Gabrielle can't help but smirk at Kayden's comment.

    “They’re always looking for a damsel in distress. That can be you. When they come in to check on you, we jump them.”

    Gabrielle rolls her eyes, and Kayden laughs.

    “I know, I know... but I don’t think I would be able to play the damsel in distress role very well! Just trust me here and know… this will work.”

    “I trust you, because yeah… yeah, it’ll work.”

    Kayden notices two men who are coming in their direction. He whispers to Gabrielle the specifics of his plan and then as the two men start to come into view. she falls to the ground clutching at her ankle while expertly arching her back to emphasize her ‘assets’. These two men rush forwards to see what's wrong with this beautiful young woman as Kayden is hiding behind some bushes nearby. The two men have lowered their guard and seem focused upon Gabrielle, who is playing her role expertly in her little leather outfit. Kayden starts to sneak his way toward them. When he gets closer, he notices that the two men are dressed in armor - are they Roman soldiers or possibly even Gladiators? As he edges in closer Kayden can hear the conversation that Gabrielle is having with the two men. These two are entirely under her spell right now.

    “Miss, are you alright?

    “Such a strange outfit you have on. Where are you coming from?”

    “I think I’m lost. Thank the Gods two big strong men have found me… otherwise, I’d be stuck out here for sure.”

    In a moment of overacting, perhaps lending credence to the fact Hollywood would only cast her in movies that saved money on her wardrobe by not having ‘complete’ outfits for her, she presses the back of her hand to her forehead… and juts out her chest …further.

    “Are you injured?”

    “It's my leg, you might have to carry me in your big strong arms.”

    She bats her eyes as the two of them help her up, and as they do, Gabrielle nods her head. The signal Kayden has been waiting for. He strikes – grabbing the dagger from the side of one man, he slits his throat, the blood gushing out like a water fountain. The second is completely shocked by this, grabbing Gabrielle to defend her. Just as he does, she grabs the dagger from his side plunging it deep into his neck in a carbon copy of Kayden’s assault. The man falls to the ground, unmoving. Kayden laughs, wiping the blood of the dagger on his jeans. He offers her a hand back up and the two of them drag the bodies to the bushes. They undress both of the men. Despite the heaviness of the armor, Gabrielle seems almost skillful in removing her soldiers' clothes. The duo gets undressed in the bushes, with perhaps only an errant glance or two thrown each other's way. When they emerge from the bushes Kayden Knox looks every part of a glorious Roman Gladiator. With that muscular figure behind that armor, Kayden looks born for this role. Yet Gabrielle, despite having taken her armor from a man much larger than her, in a standard set by every video game to ever put a woman in armor, it has all somehow shrunk in the moments between taking it off that man and putting it on herself.

    There’s a lot of skin on display, even by Gabrielle’s standards. It's like her armor has largely melted away to flaunt her curves and only ‘protect’ a select few areas. Kayden can't help but stare for a moment or two.

    “Did my armor shrink?”

    Kayden just shrugs his shoulders. Not saying anything. Not complaining, either.

    “So, this grown man I just mugged was apparently only wearing a bikini?”

    “He looked fully dressed before.”

    Silence. Gabrielle doesn’t quite know what to say. Though her sexuality, her caramel skin, and her curves have been great assets to her in the FWA, can they help her as much in the Colosseum?

    They hop on the horses and head into town. The town was busy, there was a buzz in the air as the day sky started to slowly give way into night. The Colosseum was still a bit away. However, a few local commoners could be heard talking about the big battle that is about to commence. It is the great entertainment for the masses, watching people go to battle. Some things never change it seems. Kayden and Gabrielle both continue on their path until they reach The Colosseum, taking in the visual that is the massive arena.

    “Are you here to compete?”

    A voice is heard, and the two turn to see a man in a white toga with a golden leaf laurel wreath on his head.

    “We were just looking for an audience with Caesar to… to pick his mind.”

    The man laughs, Kayden suddenly getting an urge to clock him right then and there. Gabrielle grabs Kayden’s arm as he stands down.

    “Calm down, Kayden.”

    The man introduces himself as one of the generals to Cesear.

    “While an audience, with Caesar, is out of the question, the winner of tonight's battle will earn an audience with one, Marcus Junius Brutus. If you wish to join the battle… be my guest.”

    Kayden and Gabrielle agree to join the battle and the two are whisked to the arms room where we see a number of different warriors equipping themselves for the fight. Gabrielle is looking through a variety of weapons, undecided on what suits her best, while Kayden goes straight for a shield and an ax. Kayden makes his way to Gabrielle as she still is selecting her preferred weapon.

    “This is all dumb, we should just head back to the DeLorean. I mean this isn’t even the Cesear we were looking for. I mean what exactly are we gaining by doing this? We can die.”

    “We haven’t come this far just to turn back now Kayden. We’re better than MOOT and everyone knows it. You’re better than this, we’re better than this. This is not the Kayden Knox that Executive Excellence needs. We’re adding gold to our collection, no matter what it takes.”

    “I know, you’re right… I don’t want to be that guy anymore. I don't want to accept defeat. I don’t want to be pitied. Nevermind. I have your back, Gabi. I do.”

    There is a horn, and all the fighters begin to take their places. Gabrielle finally picks up a wicked looking but slender sword which comes to a dangerous point. Outside the roar of the crowd is almost deafening with the ground shaking all around them. The people, they want to see blood. The doors opened and revealed what looks like a sea of people filling the venue. People have come from every corner of the Roman Empire to witness these Gladiator Battles. The horn stops as Marcus Junius Brutus stands on a stairway above them.

    “Here on Ides of February, 44 B.C., the winner of this great battle will earn a dinner and an audience with me. And so, let the battle begin.”

    The battle would start with Kayden & Gabrielle fighting warrior after warrior with each nearly coming to fatal blows a time or two though it seems every time one was in dire straits The other was there to lend a helping hand. Two massive mountain-sized men come at Kayden who quickly gets his shield up to thwart the first attack. The second attack grazed the face of Kayden with blood slowly dripping from it. Kayden wipes the blood, and then just as he’s about to attack Gabrielle appears by his side. The two of them trade a glancing exchange and start to fight, the two behemoths charge at them, Kayden pulls Gabrielle to the side dodging a sword strike, while Kayden is able to get a blow in after Gabrielle stabs the man in the ankle. Kayden and Gabrielle nod to one another using teamwork to take down the next warrior. Gabrielle would leap up with a huricanrana-type move as Kayden brings his ax down to finish the job. Kayden and Gabrielle are now down to the final two teams left. The duo stands back-to-back; one giant of a man and one smaller but faster with a blade close in. Kayden and Gabrielle both battle the two men charging at them taking them down after a tough fought struggle. The crowd let out a roar as the two are covered in blood and breathing heavily.

    “We won!”

    Kayden pulls his ax out from the body rushing over to Gabrielle, the duo is pleased with the outcome.

    “Are you not entertained?!”

    Gabrielle laughs getting the reference as the crowd grows silent with Brutus now speaking.

    “Congratulations are in order to our great gladiators. You have pleased the crowd and you have impressed me. I invite you, the champions of this great battle, to a feast in your honor. What says thy names are?”

    “I am Kayden Knoxus.”

    “I am Lady Gabrielle.”

    Kayden and Gabrielle both leave The Roman Colosseum and are escorted to a chamber where both are stripped of their armor as they are given more fitting outfits to wear; fit to meet someone of high class. Though somehow… even in these ancient times… somehow Gabrielle’s new outfit showcases a sinful amount of cleavage. She’d fit right in as a Roman Goddess. The night is merry with much food and drink to be had. It is a banquet fit for great Warriors and Kings alike. A few hours go by as Kayden and Gabrielle meet back up at the entrance of Brutus's quarters.

    The duo makes their way into the high-class quarters where the ceiling towered over them. There were a number of flowers all across the room and placed in the middle of it was a table filled with an extravagant set up of royal red cloth. The food was freshly cooked with chicken, goat, and pig. There were containers filled with red wine and purple grapes spread out. Brutus walked into the room from the other table greeting the champions.

    “Ah yes, welcome champions! I must say I was rather compelled by your fight today. A man with artwork across his body and a woman whose beauty rivals our great Venus walking out as champions. Who would have thought? I was told by one of the generals that you were asking around about Caesar, why might that be?”

    Kayden and Gabrielle both look at one another trying to finesse their way with the conversation.

    “Well truth be told… we are not exactly from here. We were looking to pick his mind. You see from what we have heard, Caesar is a great general, a leader of men that has won a number of wars himself. We want to be better warriors and wish to learn from him. You know, see his strengths, see weaknesses. So that we may be better.”

    “Wits must be as sharp as the blade.”

    Brutus pauses, he then takes a sip from his wine chassis.

    “I see, yes… everyone sees Caesar as this great leader. His strengths, you can see that in Rome itself. The people, they love him. Caesar though is arrogant.”

    Brutus's demeanor changes he looks seriously at Kayden and Gabrielle.

    “You want a weakness, there it is.”

    “So, why not use that? You know weakness spreads like a fire. Then soon enough the fire becomes a roaring inferno. There is a saying that pride always comes before the fall.

    Gabrielle walks to his side with Kayden following suit. The two of them are like devils on the shoulders giving him the sinful nudge.

    “Who is better for Rome? Who can serve and rule Rome as she deserves, oh Brutus?”

    Brutus fails to muster a response, dark thought swirling around his head. Gabrielle and Kayden walk away leaving Brutus deep in his own mind. They return to the DeLorean. The darkness of the cave lights up as the two flash forward in the car.


    Gabrielle and Kayden find themselves back in the present day and the match bell rung once more. MOOT though, still seems to gain the upper hand, with Stu Grimes once more climbing to the top rope and delivering another top rope move. Kayden rolls out of the ring, carrying Gabrielle, who had taken the Moonsault from Stu Grimes this time. Kayden gingerly helps Gabrielle to the back and into the DoLorean, before plummeting into the driver's seat. Kayden grips the wheel tightly before taking a deep breath.

    “No. NO! This isn’t happening. We just have to go back again. It was stupid to think that going back to Rome was going to do anything. The man thinks he’s Caesar, he's not actually him. I guess though, it wasn’t all for nothing… it can’t be. I am not accepting this. We are not losing. We… we could go back to 1978! We can check in on Stu Grimes right before he freezes himself!!”


    Kayden picks up on Gabrielle’s silent reluctance.

    “No… we do anything to damage him… who knows the future we are going back to… These losses… it’s not because of them, is it? We are beating ourselves. I know where we have to go, Gabi.”


    Gabrielle weakly replies as she sits up, clutching her sternum.

    “I don’t know if this is right. I don’t understand what's wrong. We shouldn't be failing. That’s all I know. Maybe this’ll work…”

    Kayden puts in the date; July 9th, 2021.


    The car takes off once again, this time into Johan Cryuff Arena, Amsterdam. Kayden helps Gabrielle out to her feet and the two sneak their way backstage.

    Gabrielle realizes that this is now Fallout 001. A year ago, when a new Era of the FWA officially began.

    “The first night we faced off in the ring.”

    “Yeah, Fallout Contender Eliminator Tournament. You beat me in the middle of the ring after twenty minutes.”

    “You took me to my limit. Though… I don’t know if I even cared. My life was such a mess then.”

    “You know going into that match, I may have defeated a former world champion at Back in Business, but it didn’t mean shit. I mean hell, I tried to be a changed man but… I never believed I could. I always thought that in the end, I was never going to be accepted for who I was, I figured by the end of it all, I was either gonna be alone or be looked down on. You never pity me, you treated me with respect, you could see what my flaws were but… you didn't mind them. You always made me feel… not so alone. That all started right here. You… with just that simple nod after the match gave me something I desperately needed. Acceptance.”

    Kayden helps Gabrielle and the two of them get to Kayden’s locker room. They hide inside a closet as “old” Kayden walks through the door, talking aloud to himself, nearly reassuringly.

    “Well, damn, that sucks, but you know what? I don’t feel that upset. I don’t know why. Gabrielle is a former world champion. I lost to her. I lost the chance at putting myself in contention for the world title. While those people may still boo me… she respects me. I can hold my head high knowing that.”

    A knock on the door brings in the arrival of Gabrielle to Kayden’s locker room. The two of them have a moment of awkward silence before Gabrielle speaks.

    “Kayden, I haven’t felt anything in so long now. Yet somehow out there with you I could just feel something. I could feel like Gabrielle again. There is more to me than what I’ve seemingly become. I think you know what I’m dealing with, where my head is at. Just being in that ring with you, well, it was special.”

    Our Kayden turns to our Gabrielle and speaks tenderly, and openly.

    “You don’t realize how much that moment meant to me, Gabi. You changed my life for the better. No matter the pitfalls that were set to come, when you were in my life you always made me feel like I was worth a damn. I never wanted you to feel that this was a one-way street either. I wanted, no, I needed you to know that I was there too, no matter what was done, no matter what anyone said. I was and I AM here for you. I am not in love with you, or I guess what I want to say is that I am in love with you but… not like that. It feels more important than that. It feels different than that.”

    “We were exactly what each other needed. A friend who could understand what we were going through, and what we needed without having to say anything. I needed that so much, more than even I ever realized. Someone I could just be with… without having to explain myself.”

    Gabrielle takes Kayden by the hand and they both go back to the car. Gabi then types a date; July 23rd, 2021.


    Edinburgh, Scotland. Fallout 002. The two of them are now in the parking lot of the arena and off in the distance there is a relentless blaring of a siren with the cop lights flashing red and blue illuminating the parking lot in a strobe like manner. Kayden’s 1957 Chevy Bel-Air is visible, complete with a cinderblock through the windshield. “A Zebra Can Never Change Its Stripes” crudely carved into the side. Knox cocks his head.

    “Yeah, those assholes Jackson Fenix and Nate Savage? A zebra can never change its stripes. I remember. Why are we here?”

    “You know that this wasn’t the only thing happening on this night, right? This is also MOOT’s first-time tag teaming on the roster too. You know… it's kind of funny how that turned out. The same night we debut as a team, the same night we have our moment, the same night your car is trashed, is all in line with the MOOT debut. I would almost say that some people would call that fate.”

    “Wait, really? That is weird.”

    Gabrielle points to her past self as she walks past, followed by Kayden’s past self a little while later.

    “This is where it goes wrong for us, Kayden. Look at us going our separate ways, not yet a proper tag team… and maybe still not. This is the history right here that we need to change to get the best of MOOT in the now.”

    Gabrielle sighs whole-heartedly.

    “I should have been there more for you. But seeing that scratched into your car, even though it was on YOUR car, all I could think about was myself. Everyone kept expecting the absolute worst from me. Kept telling me I was a bad person. When I was at my lowest, when my World had crumbled, and I had come to hate myself and think nothing of all that I had ever achieved… I heard people still expecting the worst from me. People claiming I was just trying to manipulate everything and everyone by being at the lowest point of my life.

    I was hurting so bad, but all the voices I heard were just telling me I was still a Monster, still the Gabrielle that had used everyone and everything she could to get ahead. I didn’t see that message being for you, I just read it for myself and dwelled on it.

    Then everything piled up so high that it crushed me, and I couldn’t be there in the FWA anymore, I almost couldn’t be anywhere anymore. I’d never felt so low, but you were hurting as well Kayden… and I wasn’t there for you. I wish I was, I should have been there for you. You deserved that. We would have saved each other. We would have pulled each other up and out of the abyss we were both stuck in.”

    She falls silent for a moment. Kayden nodding his head as he lets all of her words sink in.

    “So… lets change that. Right here and now.”

    The two of them start to follow after their past selves but Gabrielle stops herself.

    “Wait… in the movies bad things happen when you run into your past or future self. Like I was just going to run out there after them but maybe we shouldn’t do that.”

    “Why don’t you go find past Kayden and I’ll find past Gabrielle. Just don’t let past you see… you.”

    Gabrielle nods in agreement but not before a wry utterance about their absent – physically, not spiritually – stable mate.

    How does Danny keep up with all this shit?”

    Kayden shrugs in response and Gabrielle takes a split-second to ponder on the situation she finds herself in… but then decides to not waste any more time and she heads off in the direction that “past” Kayden headed. Kayden glances after her momentarily but then sets off on his own path towards “past” Gabrielle.


    It doesn’t take long for Gabrielle to find Kayden as he was trudging off towards a bus. She quickly approaches him, rushing up to him and stopping him in his tracks.

    “Kayden! We need to talk. Properly.”

    “Okay, Gabi, whatever you want. Wait… did you have a wardrobe change.”

    The “past” Gabrielle of course lived in hoodies and poorly fitting clothes, even wrestling in them. This Gabrielle is decked out in body hugging leather though.

    “Yeah… this is my… my traveling on a bus outfit.”

    Kayden raises an eyebrow, not quite sure what to make of that statement. Though Gabrielle quickly interjects before he can think too much on that.

    “Don’t listen to them. OR the bad voices in your head. You can change. You HAVE changed. You’re a better man than these other people will ever give you credit for, do you understand? A better man than you even think you are. You’ve changed your stripes, in so many ways. People like that who vandalize your car and try to bring you down… they’re just jealous. They’re the ones that can’t change their stripes, can’t change themselves and be better people… so don’t listen to them. You and I, we need to know this. We’re better than people think we are. They want to focus on any one of the wrong things we’ve ever done in our lives and act like nothing can ever change that or make up for that. But… we already have! They just don’t want to see it. But who cares? Now we can rub it all in their faces and make them regret ever thinking so little of us.”

    There is silence for a moment and then Kayden utters one word. But he means it.


    Kayden solemnly nods his head. Another split-second passes but then Gabrielle throws her arms around him and warmly embraces him with a hug.

    “Okay, Kayden. You’re better than them.”


    Elsewhere in the arena, “past” Gabrielle has just been approached by Kayden.

    “Gabi, Gabi! Wait up.”

    She pauses, her hoodie pulled up over her head as she peers back at Kayden. She doesn’t say anything, she just stares at him in silence.

    “Gabi, are you just going to walk off like that? I know exactly how much you’re hurting. I know how badly you just want to crawl up into a ball and hide in some dark hole. But you deserve better than that.

    You’re the Goddess. You’re not what you’ve let the World turn you into. You’re not a Monster, you’re not a failure, you’re not alone. You have me, and I’m going to be there for you every single step of the way. I believe in you. Don’t worry about anyone else. It’s just you and me against the World, proving everyone else wrong. You see that team – MOOT - that debuted tonight? One day it’s gonna be us and them. We’re going to topple them, and we’ll be standing on top of the World when we do.”

    Past Gabrielle hasn’t said anything and hasn’t really moved. She doesn’t talk much anymore and it’s rare that she has someone, anyone so close to her like this. Kayden reaches in and embraces her with a hug, something she hasn’t felt in so long now and she just relaxes into him.


    Eventually, the past and present Bad Reputation all go their own way, only to wind up at the same place. On board that bus. Only this time, Kayden and Gabrielle are watching their past selves sit side by side. They both left the arena that night together. Content with each other’s company, they’re not alone, they have each other, and that means everything to them both.


    We see present-day Gabrielle and Kayden sitting in the same row of seats beside one another, gazing at their "past" selves. Gabrielle leans her head on Kayden's shoulder. Kayden is looking out the window watching the streetlights as they pass by. He turns to her and starts to speak.

    “I thought you wanted space Gabi, I never truly realized how lonely you were. How dark of a place you had been in. You know how I had all the judging eyes on me, the weight on my shoulders, I was selfish. I was selfish for a number of reasons and the very first was because I didn’t see how much pain you were really in.”

    Kayden pauses as he looks into her eyes. She is focused on him listening to his words.

    “I was selfish because I wanted to be.”

    Kayden stops once more as he tries to find the right words. Kayden takes a deep breath before going on.

    “I thought I needed you to make a better man of myself and I can see that now that wasn’t the case. When you came back Gabi, it caught me off guard. You got in my head, I thought you’d give me a heads up. No, what happened? You came back with Alyster. I was angry. I was depressed. I didn’t see that going to Alyster was your way of looking for comfort just as I tried to find in you. I suppose you can call it jealously. I hated seeing you with him; because I thought he was a toxin to you. I saw him as cancer. I was looking for a friend too, I was looking for a comrade, and yeah it ended up being Saint Sulley. I don’t know if he was using me, I don’t even know what I was looking for when we made the call to form the team.”

    The bus stops as both parties get off, the present day waiting for the future counterparts to leave together before making their own way back to the DeLorean. The duo is about to leave as Gabrielle speaks up.

    “I hated seeing you hanging out with Sulley… of all people it had to be him. That asshole, so integral to so much of my pain, and so intent to make everything I was going through even worse. But he didn’t really matter though, did he? It could have been anyone. You just needed a friend, someone to talk too, like me you needed someone to be there for us in any way possible. We both needed each other yet instead we chose the most toxic friendships we could find. I don’t blame you Kayden, I did the same thing. We should have been there for each other all along. Were we both just too proud to turn to each other? Too worried about each other’s pain that we didn’t want to add to it.”

    She looks him deeply in the eyes.

    “I’m sorry I was ever mad at you for finding some kind of happiness in a friendship with Sulley. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you instead Kayden.”

    The rest of the bus ride is quiet between them. Not much more really needs to be said. They both know where they went wrong past and what’s letting them down in the present. Their Bad Reputations were still getting in their way, stopping them from everything they could be. Stopping them from embracing the change and growth they’d experienced and proving that they are so much more than just another tag team.


    Kayden and Gabrielle go back to the present day, right as the match bell rings for the Fallout: Rebirth Main Event. The two sneak backstage to see if their visit to the past changes the outcome of this future. The two disguise themselves in the crowd as the match gets underway. Kayden and Gabrielle are on the edge of their seats, much like the crowd. Grimes climbs the top rope again, it looks like he is going for that moonsault. He misses! Gabrielle and Kayden connect with a double team move and picks up the victory holding the titles high and hugging each other, their joy uncontainable. Our two are unmoving as they start to fade out of existence. Instead of being worried though… they just smile as we fade to black.


  6. #6
    Cyrus Truth's Avatar

    Join Date
    Apr 2011
    Long and Winding Road
    Rep Power

    Re: Fallout | “Rebirth” | Promo Thread

    Devious Productions Presents:

    Konchu Hao in...

    "Revolution! The Power of Influence in Uncertain Times!!!"

    Our scene opens with a massive wall of tube television monitors on a shadowy, blackened stage. There's a old-school microphone stand taking center stage, drawing the eye to the silvery relic of an era long past. The wooden floor of the stage is polished oak, and there's a distinct hum coming from the televisions stacked on top of one another.

    The droning is interjected by the sound of leathery footsteps, two sets echoing in the dark. One longer and lankier, one shorter and more rapid. The sounds of the footsteps eventually overtakes the droning, as two figures approach the microphone and a spotlight illuminates the area.

    It's not hard to tell even with the masks on that Konchu Hao and his faithful companion Epsilon are less than pleased with the events of Back in Business. A golden opportunity to become the FWA World Tag Team Champions, slipped through their fingers at the Men Out Of Time managed to survive the brutal match. The way they stand in this eerie theater, the slight slump in their shoulders and the way Konchu's lips are pursed? It's clear that losing that match hurt, beyond just the physical pain.

    Konchu approaches the microphone, arms crossed behind his back as he speaks in a very clear and...well, less manic tone than usual.

    "I suppose I should take this opportunity, on behalf of myself and Epsilon, to apologize profusely for our inability to rise to the occasion at Back in Business. We know that the FWA faithful were eager to see that defrosted lummox and that fop of a Roman emperor LARPer dethroned by this dynamic duo...but our performance was not up to our standards. We, who thrive in chaos and madness, were just not up to the challenge and we failed. For that, accept our most humble apologies, and know that we will endeavor to do better in these...less than certain times."

    Konchu backs away from the microphone as he and Epsilon stand on either side of it, bowing contritely to the audience watching from parts unknown. With the bow complete, Konchu returns to the microphone as much of that sadness and disappointment vanishes.

    Gone is the contrition. Now stands the orator, confident and exacting.

    "'Less than certain times,' yes...that is certainly one descriptor for what has transpired. The breaking of a union, a secession of sorts for Fallout from Meltdown and the shattering of the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance. And make no mistake about it. Regardless of what that oaf Russnow will say to the contrary, Mr. Watkins' action dealt a very grievous blow to FWA to bring about his own separate, yet unequal nation state of wrestling.

    "Now, to be absolutely clear, I'm not admonishing Mr. Watkins for his actions or decisions. He had every right to want to strike off on his own if that was what he wanted to do. And it's not as if Russnow's actions help in assuaging Mr. Watkin's concerns of his erratic and, admittedly, spiteful actions towards the numerous Fallout world champions that ended up competing on his brand. However..."

    Konchu pauses for a minute, as if he's a bit hesitant to say anything. However, one look at Epsilon's nodding head gives him the nerve to continue forward.

    Konchu knows full well that he's treading dangerous waters...but they are waters he did not choose to swim in, and was forced to dive head first into. So, why not dive in head first, right?!

    "Some might be wondering why I've been silent up to this point. Ultimately, despite my love of mayhem and chaos, a true Master of the Dark Arts knows when to measure and err to caution. But, let it not be said that Konchu Hao, the Primogen of Pandemonium, is a coward in the face of controversy!

    "Ultimately? Mr. Watkins has made tactical errors aplenty in his decision to rend the relationship between Fallout and Meltdown. Having Daniel Toner as the centerpiece of his new order? Understandable, but having his lineage as champion tied to that of the FWA World Heavyweight Championship without formally renouncing the title? A grave miscalculation, if I do say so myself. Call him the Fallout World Champion all you please, but when you declare succession with FWA gold on the shoulders of your new cornerstone, flanked by wretches invoking the name of a long hated stable? Mr. may as well have just declared the death of FWA, despite the fact that Meltdown is still quite alive and likely quite riled.

    "Whatever grievances Mr. Watkins had with Jon Russnow and the harpies running Meltdown no longer matter, because Mr. Watkins answered a barrage of pistol fire with the wrestling corporation equivalent of a tactical nuclear missile! Anyone in either company that doesn't believe that retribution is on the horizon is a delusional fool that either has closed their eyes to the reality of this new battleground or believes that they will be immune from its wrath. The lineage of the FWA World Heavyweight Championship has been severed! The wrestlers of Meltdown, dangerous men and women, have now lost the prize that defines their organization. WAR is on the horizon! When that hammer falls...who can say? Kehahaha...but it WILL fall. And if Daniel Toner, Gabrielle Montgomery, and Kayden Knox have somehow deluded themselves into believing that those of us who've spent our entire careers on Fallout sweating, bleeding, SUFFERING for the glories and prestige that this Executive Excellence has been anointed with will somehow RALLY under their tarnished banners, they and the rest of the apologists on this brand are in for a RUDE awakening."

    Konchu grips the microphone with his long, bony fingers as that all-too-familiar wicked glint in his eyes and that sinister smirk crosses his lips.

    "If Fallout is to survive the oncoming storm of retribution that will surely fall on our heads due to the actions of Mr. Watkins and Executive Excellence, this organization will need a better breed of leader. One unafraid of chaos, who thrives in the maelstrom of madness and can represent this organization not as an aggressor, but as a separate and sovereign nation prepared to defend itself not just from outsiders, but from the cancerous fools that threaten to take us all down due to their own blind arrogance.

    "I assume you all know where this is going, my dear and loyal minions. A new champion will be crowned on Fallout...a Television Champion. Yet another title that echoes the past of the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance. And yes, I know several other promotions have hosted Television Titles, but...given the nature of how Rupert Watkins and Executive Excellence have chosen to conduct this particular divorce, I do not put it past them to engage in petty taunting. Regardless..."

    Konchu gives Epsilon a nod, who produces a remote control and presses a few button.

    Instantly, the television monitors behind the duo come to life, showcasing a MILLION different images of the wrestlers opposing Konchu for the Fallout Television Championship. The swiftness of Anzu, the mastery of PAJ, the fire of Chris Peacock, the sleaziness of Jackson Fenix, and the deviousness of Shawn Summers...all on display in...less than high definition, but still clear to see.

    Konchu doesn't even turn around as he continues to speak.

    "Oh yes, quite the menagerie of masterful wrestlers. Some with a massive pedigree like Mr. Jackson, or a history of excitement around him like Christopher. Some are older hands, like Miss Anzu. Others, like Jackson and Summers, are more depraved, hungrier for glory that has long eluded them.

    "However, I'm not going to mince words here. I'm not going to waste any time going over each and every one of them and exposing their many, many, MANY flaws. I have neither the time nor the desire to bore my loyal army with truths they already know. THIS is the Television Championship! And who on Fallout's roster is truly its champion of Television, if not KONCHU HAO?!"

    With a wave of his arms, outstretched to either side of him, Konchu lets loose a cackle as the television screens change to showcase the lowest points for all of Konchu's opponents. Disappointing matches, heartbreaking losses, and the utter loss of the crowd's support all mire the majesty of these wrestlers' careers.

    But then...the screens change, showcasing Konchu's highs and lows. The good times, and the bad in equal measure. But throughout all of them, there's one thing that never changes.

    The crowd.

    The cheers.

    The chanting of the Mad Wizard's name.

    "Throughout the entirely of Fallout's run, from its beginning to now, there's been ONE MAN who's commanded the attention of the faithful. One man whose exploits have been followed, been scrutinized, and been found engaging, a feat NONE of my opponents can even come close to matching! I may not have worn gold, but I was and still am the TRUE champion of the people, of Fallout Television itself! Through all the troubles and tribulations, and the joys and triumphs, Konchu Hao has been the man to bear the weight of being the absolute KING OF ENTERTAINMENT AND EXCITEMENT! KEHAHAHA!

    "I am not interested in the failed rejuvenation of careers that have long since passed by. The desires of cretins looking for accolades beyond their meager grasp nor the predilections of former rivals matter in the absolute SLIGHTEST! Fallout is standing on the precipice of war, whether Watkins or the Executive Excrement trio want to admit it to themselves or not. This is not a war I would've chosen, but if war is to come, I will be the man to stand in defiance and protect this organization, this promotion that was built on MY sweat, MY blood, and by the loyal support of MY Army of the Night!

    "It's a foregone conclusion. It's an absolute spoiler if it wasn't so obvious. This Rebirth is one for me, as I ascend to my rightful place as the true king of Fallout, one in defiance of he who stands at the top of an ivory tower built on quicksand! And even in spite of the foolish decisions that will bring fire and ruin to those of us who have suffered and bled for Mr. Watkins and his organization, we the wrestlers of Fallout will rise to the challenge...and I will be the man to lead them out of this mess and to ULTIMATE GLORY!

    "So...tune in, my faithful minions. Same Konchu time..."

    With a flourish, Konchu waves his arms and clenches his fists as the television monitors behind him shatter and spark in a fountain of light and fireworks. Epsilon happily claps as the spotlight fades and the sparks die down, leaving the duo in absolute darkness.

    "...same Konchu channel. KEHAHAHA!!!"
    Something Witty!

    Cyrus Truth
    4x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    1x FWA North American Champion
    Carnal Contedership 2016 Winner
    2x CWA World Heavyweight Champion
    1x PnH International Champion

    Konchu Hao
    1x FWA X Division Champion
    Ground Zero Winner (Season 2)

  7. #7

    Join Date
    Sep 2008
    Rep Power
      Country                    England

    Re: Fallout | “Rebirth” | Promo Thread

    Jackson sits alone in a diner at 3am. He has a booth to himself. Jackson sits forward leaning over a cold cup of coffee. Jackson is deep in thought. Head in his hands with his eyes closed. Jackson sits up and pulls out 5 headshots from his pocket. He holds them in his hand not looking at them.

    Since Back in Business, I have been consumed by questions. Why did I come back? Was it really for me? Those three questions have just been going back and forth in my head without the satisfaction of an answer. It has humbled me but it has done it in a great way. It has cleared my head of all doubt, of all the fog that was consuming me. No longer struggling to understand whether I am Phillip A. Jackson or not. I am now. It has allowed introspection. I truly know who and what I am. I struggled for 3 years but no more. My eyes are open. My head is clear. The way we got here wasn't what I wanted BUT the result makes sense. While on the topic of results...

    Jackson pulls out his phone and dials.

    Hey, I've been thinking about things

    Jackson acknowledges a response on the other side.

    Yeah, you're fired

    Jackson gives a couple of uh huhs in response and then hangs up the call. Jackson takes a deep breath in relief and lays the menu for the diner open.

    This is now a one man show. Not in the bullshit ways of old. This is my vision with my motivation. It is not about pandering to crowds. It is not about satisfying agents. It is purely and simply focused on one thing, success. No more re-invention. The wheel was already perfect, so why change it? It will just slow things down. It just needs a frame to build it round.

    The waitress walks over.

    “Excuse me”

    She tops up Jacksons coffee and then cleans the table in the next booth over. A lightbulb moment comes into Jackson's head. Jackson smirks.

    The Cleaner...No The Cleanser. Purging those who are deemed to be dirty and requiring removal. There are plenty of those in FWA. Shawn Summers, Jackson Fenix, Konchu Hao, Yuna Funanori and Chris Peacock. They are what stand between me and being the FWA Television Champion. A title and a media platform in need of cleansing. There is nothing that is now more full of smut, low brow comedy and useless bullshit than Television. FWA needs someone to step up as the TV Champion to represent something better. That is what I am. I am better. I am safe pair of hands, a hall of famer in waiting and the man they would want to be representing them with a title belt. It is not unfamiliar to me. I am above such low brow smut. If FWA wants to stand out, it needs to be better. It needs a legend to anchor it. It needs a legend to be the gatekeeper of the elite. Regardless of what anyone thinks, I am not over the hill. I have some fight left in me, I have to prove that because all I have shown is words that have nothing to back them up and if you still remember me that is not who I am. I need to remind them and what better way to do so than to put down five other wrestlers on my path to redemption. To purge them of their indiscretions and allow a new reign of cleansing to begin in the new era of television. An era built in my image. Where I will be the judge, jury and executioner.

    Jackson smirks and places all the pictures upside down. They all have a note on the back.

    My former agent probably had a scout report for me, but I don't need him any more and I will prove that there is still life in me yet. Where do I start? How about the man in most need of cleansing, Konchu Hao, a man that very few know anything about. A man so devoid of manhood, that he hides behind a mask, he hides away from anything real and projects onto a 'minion' who he exploits for laughs. What a sick and twisted mind. A sick freak who exploits people to further his own goals.

    Jackson turns over the relevant headshot and places it on the menu. Jackson shakes his head.

    Well...not goals...delusions of grandeur and even that is the most normal thing about him. Wanting to be the best, wanting to dominate. That's normal and probably the only normal thing about you. Domination is grandeur for me, I have been to the top of the mountain twice. For you, trying to be anything more than you are is truly delusion. That is reality for you and no amount of wizardy can solve that for you. No minions, no mystique is strong enough to change that. No victory in a development show is going to change that. Epsilon might be 'loyal' to you but he doesn't know anything better. He hasn't had the chance to experience anything other than being under your wing. You're lying to him. You're hiding him from reality an if he saw you how everyone else sees you then he would be gone in a heartbeat. You are a master manipulator. No amount of “wizardy” can change that. I will slap you back into reality. I will make sure that you are cleansed. You are purified for the new era of television that I am going to bring to FWA.

    Jackson rips the picture of Konchu and turns over the next picture. It is Chris Peacock.

    Next?! The man who couldn't even get past the freak. Chris Peacock. A man that FWA took pity on to give a contract. I wasn't here for it but even I can see that he got a contract because of some bullshit connection with the fans. Pandering and fan service, horrible. This company has gone down in standards since I've been gone. Three years ago, Chris Peacock would be on the street where he belongs. Second place is not what the new era of television demands. I will admit that like many reality shows, you have done better than the winner. You have had more success than Konchu. I cannot deny that. You did that through sticking to who you are, that I can at least admire. I have been foggy about who I am for years. You have been unashamedly the man you always wanted to be. That makes it all the more satisfying to end. To see your passion die. To see doubt start to consume you. That is my ambition. Much like Fight Club, it is time to destroy some beautiful. I take no pride in it but there is no room for pandering and fan service in my new era of television. My vision does not allow for you to be existing. That is my you shall be cleansed as well.

    Jackson follows suit on the picture and rips it in two before revealing his next opponent. Jackson Fenix.

    A man with some taste in a name at least. He is a man I can actually respect as a peer. He follows a similar mantra to me. He knows the most important words ever echoed in FWA. Words Are Weapons. My mentor said that. He truly embodies this. Unfortunately for Jackson Fenix, it changes nothing in relation to being on the list of cleansing. Jackson might have quality I truly admire but these are skills that we need not duplicate. There is no room in the new era of television for another guy who likes to talk and back it up. You already have a premium package in another Jackson. Phillip A. Jackson. Mr. Fenix, please focus on your tag team. Your alliance with Nate Savage because that's all you are good for. You have somehow become the one person that he doesn't seem to hate. He hates me and I have never met him but I will give him a reason to hate me. I will give you a reason to hate me. I will cleanse you from my new era. That is your new reality and I know that there are some long words in this sentence so I'll dumb it down for you, so that I can be abundantly clear with you. Me bash your head, you go night night and me win title. You got that?! Let me show you Mr. Fenix.

    Jackson rips up the picture of Jackson Fenix and delights in the fact there are 2 left. He playfully hovers his hand over the pictures pretending as if he doesn't know which is which. Jackson takes the picture on the right and turns it over. Yuna Funanori.

    Yuna, interesting. In backstory and how she got to FWA. Boring in every other way. Same ambitions as every other wrestler on the planet, FWA Champion. That is uninteresting. Trust me, the top of the mountain is a curse but you confuse me Yuna. You really do. Do you wrestler for the love of the business and as a passion or is for titles because you seemingly want to do both. That is delusion. That's the problem with the new FWA. The delusion is rife on the roster. Did I cash in the Golden Opportunity for the love of the business and to have fun? No, I did it because I cut a deal and I got what I deserved. That's what this business is. That's the cold reality that is wrestling. What happens behind the curtain has more say that having a pirate having the time of their life in front of it. However, this may be an insult to you but we have common ground. You want to build a roster in your image and rid anyone who doesn't conform to it. I can respect that but much like my friend Mr. Fenix, there is only room for one cleanser and much like Chris, there is no room for silly gimmicks in the reality of wrestling. My vision is going to be fought for. The new era of television transcends titles, which I'm sure you can be pleased about. This goes beyond a 'treasure', this is about whipping this roster into shape. This is a legitimate sport, a business that is disrespected and I want to bring that back and having a bunch of pirates parading around is not in the vision, so because of all of that, you are going to be cleansed.

    Jackson rips the picture of Yuna in two and it joins the other pictures in pieces. Jackson shrugs and turns over the final picture. Jackson gives it a longer look than the rest.

    Last and no means least, Shawn Summers. A wrestling machine, in the purest sense of the word. Someone who shows an ounce of respect to this business, by forging his craft. No gimmicks, no frills. Just pure submission and striking. It is not my style but I respect it. I was not blessed with the traditional training and background. I am by no means a classic wrestler but I share the respect of the craft. Our paths are different but we can connect on that same respect for the purity of the business. I don't want to see someone run around like a pirate or dance around in the ring. This sport is an art and that respect is paramount to success. The problem Shawn, I like it. In fact I love what you bring to the table but the new era of television does need some entertainment. Purity is worthy of respect but my vision requires some showmanship. The right amount sprinkled on top of a respect for the business. Unfortunately for you, that is what I have. Along with the pedigree, this prestige and the history to be the wrestling star of the my new era of television. As much as it pains me to do.

    Jackson rips up the picture of Shawn Summers and places it with the rest.

    You are no better than the rest of them. The era of smut, the era of boring repetitive crap, of nauseating delusion is over. I don't need a belt to justify bringing about a new era of television. Simply put I want it because I am the cleanser, the bringer of a new era forged in my image and there is not one person in this match that has done more for this company than me.

    Jackson scoops up the ripped up pictures and climbs up from his booth and looks around. He heads to the corner of the diner and throws the pictures in the trash.

  8. #8
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    Re: Fallout | “Rebirth” | Promo Thread

    Krash Crusades
    Chapter 2: Not Looking for Krash Yet

    The aesthetic is very American, even if the theme is an unspoken hint of Mexican. The restaurant did originate from Dallas, Texas, which isn’t too far from the Mexico-United States border. Hell, within minutes of sitting at your table, a server brings a big bowl of tortilla chips along with some sweet-heat red salsa. The chain is an American take on Mexican food. The logo and sign even has red and green colors, which resembles Mexico’s flag.

    The middle of the restaurant is the “bar area”, which is the best place to be inside any Chili’s location. Along the right side of the bar area – if you’re looking as if walking into the restaurant – are three booths. The first booth has an elderly couple who look like they’ve been coming to this same Chili’s every single Friday for decades. But instead of focusing on one another and whether ‘ole Samson can get the fajitas tonight without having major indigestion within an hour, they’re mostly focused on the pair in the last booth.

    Before we get to the last booth, let’s turn to the lone Chili’s patron sitting at the actual bar top, which is on the left side of the bar area. In the middle are five vacant round high-top tables with high-top chairs. No one likes sitting there, Chili’s. It’s terrible for your back.

    With his back turned to the elderly couple, a man with a white mustache and a cowboy hat sits at the bar top while sipping on a glass of straight whiskey – on the rocks – and slowly eating his complimentary chips and salsa.

    “Well, howdy, partners. Didn’t figure I’d be seein’ much of y’all ‘round here. This ‘ole place? Oh, this is just an American landmark. Forget baseball. Chili’s is the true American pastime. Ask anyone from my neck of the woods, ‘n I wreckin’ they’ll all tell ya’ the same thing.

    Anywho, what we got here is a meetin’ of the minds, so to speak. ‘Ole XYZ is usually with his good pal Big Al, but not tonight. Ya’ see, ‘ole X is on a quest to add to his ranks, with Big Al’s lung cancer ‘n all. X is worried Big Al is gonna be worse for wear soon with chemotherapy ‘n surgery. Nasty stuff that cancer. So ‘ole X is out lookin’ for like-minded people who outta be fightin’ alongside him to help save the world.

    I wreckin’ he mighta found someone in this kid named Jeremy Best. Odd little fella, but he’s got a heart’a gold. Let’s check in on ‘em, eh?”

    Now we get a glimpse of the last booth – where the elderly couple was focused mostly. It’s XYZ sitting with his back turned to the other patrons, but he has the green cape tied around his neck and no shirt. Hey, Chili’s doesn’t have a rule about no shirt. Just no socks.

    “Gotta have socks on if you wanna go to Chili’s,” the crusty man at the bar says in between his whiskey sips. "That's what my pops always said, 'n it's darn true."

    On the opposite side of XYZ is Jeremy Best, who has a white T-shirt underneath suspender straps holding up his khaki-colored pants. Jeremy Best took the no-socks rule to heart and actually has two pairs of socks on, both way up past his ankles. He has never been to Chili’s before, but he has heard about a “2-for-1 margaritas” deal. The deal never sleeps, just as the dream never dies.

    “So, XYZ, will you help me find Krash or not?”

    To recap, Jeremy Best wanted XYZ to help him find Krash, who is presumed dead after his Back in Business Night 2-long brawl with “Rockstar” Randy Ramon. The duo ended their battle when they submerged in a body of water and never surfaced.

    Jeremy Best refuses to believe Krash is dead. XYZ likes Krash, but he has more important things to worry about. His mind is on Big Al, who has started chemotherapy treatment for his stage 3 lung cancer. Big Al dropped 30 pounds in three months, an extraordinary feat. Hopefully, the chemotherapy works and Big Al can undergo surgery to remove the tumor – or one of his lungs. Whichever will save his life, honestly, is fine with X.

    “You want a friend, and I want … an ally against evil. It seems we are on the path to glory, Jeremy Best.”

    “You can call me ‘Jeremy,’ sir! Any friend of mine calls me ‘Jeremy.’”

    Jeremy offers a wide smile back at XYZ, who does not return it. He's full-on serious as Jeremy sort of diminishes his happiness.

    “I will call you ‘Jeremy Best’ because that is your name.”


    There’s an awkward silence as the two share a bowl of complimentary chips, and Jeremy takes a long sip of his frozen margarita. The funny, uncomfortable face he makes shows Jeremy isn’t a heavy drinker. The margaritas at Chili’s are not strong by any means, but they’re strong for Jeremy, that’s for damn certain.

    XYZ doesn’t drink alcohol, but he does enjoy a nice cold glass of root beer. So that’s what he has before him.

    The silence allows our mysterious man at the bar to give some more narration.

    “As you can see, Jeremy is a bit unsure of how to proceed. How can he get XYZ to help him in findin’ ‘ole buddy Krash? To his credit, ‘ole X is a little unsure of Jeremy’s – how ya’ say – abilities as an XYZite.

    I mean, this is a man who hangs out and considers a friend someone of the ilk of Bryan Baxter. This is a man who has tried to be friends with Jackson Fenix. His judgment of character leaves – let’s just say – a little to be desired. You can criticize XYZ for many things, but he’s usually quick on the draw when knowin’ where someone sits in this great big world of ours. Kleio de Santos showed her colors pretty quick, and even though it disappointed ‘ole X, he moved on ‘n moved up.

    But X knows Jeremy wants a friend, ‘n X values friendship. Big Al is a testament to that, so ‘ole X wants to give this Jeremy Best kid a shot.”

    XYZ rises up from his seated position in the Chili’s booth. Jeremy Best does the same, but not before he grabs his margarita glass and takes another uncomfortable sip. Brain freeze sets in, and Jeremy winces in pain. XYZ is half bemused and half curious about this man’s mannerisms.

    “I think, before we set out to find Krash, I must be sure you are worthy of being an XYZite.”

    “But, sir, if I may, and I mean no disrespect, please know that, but you don’t seem to be in a position to haggle. None of the people you interviewed at The Hall were good enough to be an XYZite. One person talked about himself and definitely plagiarized other people. Although that nice guy was pretty nice. I don’t know why you didn’t let him be part of your team!

    But regardless, I found you at The Hall because I knew that’s where you’d be. It’s your hideout, right?! Every great superhero has a hideout.”

    “Not my hideout, Jeremy Best.”

    “Oh, I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t mean to disrespect you!"

    Jeremy is becoming more and more unsure of himself in XYZ's presence, and X tries to mend the fences a bit.

    “No disrespect. You just don’t know the ways of the XYZites. This is why you ended to be tested. You didn’t show up for the tryouts on June 24th at The Hall. You were late.

    I will help you, though. For starters, our hideout is a Magic School Bus.”

    “I think I used to watch those movies when I was a kid at school!”

    Jeremy glows up thinking he has found a commonality with XYZ.

    “You used to … what was that? Anyways, we have a Magic School Bus, and …”

    “Can I see it, sir?? I would be most excited to see this bus. It brings so many memories back!”

    “Maybe. If you pass the tests. The Magic School Bus is in the shop right now. It has been blowing some weird rainbow stuff out the front of it. We can't have that. Plus, it sort of broke down just outside of the Snickers planet after a mission with Big Al to save a group of little hens. They were stuck in these woods and being threatened by spider-mice. You don't want to get in the way of some spider-mice, let me tell you.

    Anyways, you can be an XYZite and come aboard the Magic School Bus if you pass the tests. And then we will go find your best friend Krash.”

    “Wait … I feel a song coming on! Is there a piano here?”

    “A piano? Why would you need a piano after I just told you about the dangers of spider-mice?”

    “Just imagine a piano, okay?”

    XYZ is confused yet again, but our trusty narrator pipes in.

    “Any’a y’all ever seen ‘The Hangover?’ A bunch’a FWA’ers recently did a parody of it. It’s a good movie. Not great, but good. Not enough western stuff in it. Needs more sand ‘n dirt ‘n cowboys. Hell, more gamblin’ wouldn’t hurt, either. But yeah, Jeremy is about to make a nod to ‘The Hangover.’ Just imagine he has a piano in front of him, I suppose.”

    Jeremy begins tapping his fingers into the imaginary keys of an imaginary piano and humming the sound that would emerge from the instrument. XYZ listens but doesn't join in.

    “What do tigers dream of
    When they take a little tiger snoooooze?
    Do they dream of mauuuling zeeebras
    Or Hallie Berry in her catwoman suit?

    Don’t you worry your pretty strip-ed head,
    We’re gonna get you back to Tyson ‘n your cozy tiger bed.
    And then we’re gonna fiiiiind ouuuur beeeeest frieeeend Kraaash,
    And then we’re gonna give him a beeeest frieeeeend raaaash.
    Kraaaaash, Krash, Ooooh Krash Kraaashy Kraashy Krash Krash
    But if he’s been murdered by Rockstar and his speakeerrrrrs,
    Well, then we’re shoot out’ta luck.”


    The first task involved XYZ taking Jeremy Best to the very top of Mount Ichiwaldo-Conspucio on planet Hersheys. Jeremy Best was out of breath by the time he reached the top, but he got there. XYZ was, likewise, out of breath, even more so than Jeremy. X had to give Jeremy credit, but this wasn’t proof in and of itself that Jeremy Best should be an XYZite.

    The second task was XYZ and Jeremy Best traveling via space cycle to the 97F solar system and infiltrating the heavily armored Klondike planet, which is guarded by geebers. They’re Yeti-sized rats. They even look like the abominable snowman in color and ferocity.

    While XYZ was trying to figure out the weakest point in the guarding and take down those people, Jeremy Best correctly suggested sneaking in from the very top of the planet, which is uninhabited. “Why didn’t Big Al and I think of that last time we came here to fight the Klondikians for their attack on the Reese’s planet in the 32B solar system?”

    The third task involved XYZ putting Jeremy through his toughest test yet. Jeremy had to find a way past the Twix planet army to save the queen of the Whatchamacallit planet. X got a stress signal from the Whatchamacallits and headed there immediately in his space cycle with Jeremy on back. X usually has to tell people – including Big Al – to put on their helmet for safety reasons. Jeremy Best was one step ahead, though, with not just one helmet fully strapped but also elbow and knee pads to guard from the flying space rocks.

    Not even XYZ has knee and elbow pads.

    When they arrived at Twix, it was Jeremy Best who learned the queen of Whatchamacallit was actually being held captive for war crimes she committed against the Twixians.

    “How did you find this out?! This will change the discourse of intergalactic politics forever, Jeremy Best!”

    “Well, I just went up and talked with them, mister XYZ! The Twixians are friendly people once they trust you. They seem to be untrusting of you but only because you have believed the worst in them from other people. They’re really nice! They invited me to Christmas dinner this year!”

    “Am I invited?”

    Jeremy pauses and sort of frowns at the question as he straps his helmet to prepare for another space cycle ride back to earth.

    “They uh … didn’t mention you," he sheepishly says. "I can put in a good word for you, though, mister XYZ!”

    “Ah! Nah, don't worry. That’s alright. As long as this has been settled, I am happy as a swordcat on planet Butterfinger.”

    “Oh yes. They let the queen go so long as she paid them 329 crumbs and promised to never commit crimes against the Twixians ever again. Seems like their dust-up is settled!”

    XYZ cannot deny that Jeremy Best has surprised him in succeeding at every challenge thus far.

    “So, mister XYZ, does this mean I am an XYZite? And does this mean you’ll help me find my best friend Krash?!”

    XYZ thinks about it for a second as he revs up the space cycle. Just then, a thought comes to his quirky brain.

    “You’ve done well, and the dream certainly never dies with you.

    But I have one … final … test.”

    “What’s that, mister XYZ?”

    “Your last test … is me.”

    XYZ puts his mind towards Fallout: Rebirth, as does Jeremy Best. The two foes are set to clash in a possible all-timer on a landmark episode of Fallout. The space cycle zooms back towards earth with the two occupants in synergy about what’s to face them in the near future: each other.

    Now’s kind of the perfect time for the narrator to finish us up.

    “Well, kiddos, this is where we part. Another adventure of ‘ole XYZ is in the books, only this one had an unlikely companion along for the ride, so to speak. Now it’s on to Fallout. Only one of them can emerge victorious. Will Jeremy Best finally earn his keep as an XYZite and get an ally in the quest to save Krash, or will XYZ be back to the bricks to find someone to fill the ranks by his side?

    As my pops always said, ‘It’s always a fun watch when a rooster ‘n a dragonfly start kickin’ up dirt.’

    See y’all on the good side of the sun.”
    Last edited by The Golden One; 07-18-2022 at 09:59 PM.

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    Re: Fallout | “Rebirth” | Promo Thread

    cornelius aurelius caesar and stu grimes are

    A beautiful summer day in the heart of the city of wonders, a city of great legacy, founded by two kids raised by wolves and named after the great Romulus. The shared capital city of the Roman Republic, Roman Empire and current-day Italy… there are very few cities that can compare to Rome. The skies are in a lovely shade of light blue, the sun is delightfully (though painfully to some) bright and the few, small clouds that luckily managed to hang themselves onto the sky come in pleasant shapes and whiteness that suggest the preservation of this good weather for at least the remainder of the day. Many people seem to be at this huge square but in the middle of it stand three significant men, side-by-side.

    The man on the left appears to be in his early-fifties, though it’s not very easy to make that distinction by relying on the eye test alone. Some proper context is needed to reach a definitive conclusion. But you can interpret fairly that he’s a stern man offering a steely look for anyone who might gaze upon his eyes. An open coffer stands in front of him, a coffer overflowing with coins, jewelry and riches. The wealth level of this man is fairly obvious, the same wealth that became his legacy, truly defining the name Marcus Licinius Crassus.

    Compared to the serious demeanor of Crassus, the man on the right had a more jovial expression on his face. He was considerably chubbier too. He had his right hand fairly open, almost as if he was opening himself for a hug, if it wasn’t for the sword he was holding. It was fair to say that his friendly appearance could be the downfall of people who might underestimate him, for the man was a true Roman general with many battles won under his command. Despite all the success he earned in the battlefield, he would go on to lose the most important war of his life and his head would be served on a silver platter to his greatest enemy. Such was the tragedy of Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus, or Pompey the Great as he was most commonly known.

    Last but not least, there was the man in the middle. He needed little introduction at this point. Both of his hands were busy shaking the free hands of Crassus and Pompey, signifying their historic alliance known to the world as The First Triumvirate, the alliance that skyrocketed the political career of the third member, Gaius Julius Caesar.

    Crassus, Pompey and Caesar all shook hands and changed Rome forever. But in the middle of this square, they had no power of changing anything as they were nothing but marble statues, sculpted to be decoration. Their sculpted togas, gold coins and swords contrasted heavily with the people around them with their t-shirts, paper money, smartphones and cameras. Two millennia have passed since the time of the OG Triumvirate, but the people of modern day were as immobile as the statues of historical figures themselves.

    The beautiful view of the modern day Rome turns slightly blurry and its scale decreases, revealing a white frame around it with some words written upon it. The photo apparently was good enough to make it into a travel guide. The best travel guide Caesar could afford during the trip from Brazil back to his home in New York.

    He kept the book open in front of him while the bottle of wine and a medium-rare steak remained untouched. It was almost like he didn’t even hear the concerns of Stu, who stood a few steps away from the dinner table, attending to the food he was currently cooking. His head was only an inch or so away from touching the kitchen ceiling and the grease had made the verb of the classic cooking apron phrases unreadable, leaving it with just ‘The Cook’, which described Stu well enough, the giant supposed.

    “Your steak’s gonna get cold," repeated Stu. “I don’t think you would like your steak cold.”

    No reply came from Caesar, his gaze on the travel guide book, especially on the close-up picture of the statue of his old group from a past life.

    “And the wine is aged enough already,” he continued, knowing he was figuratively speaking to a wall at this stage. “25 years.”

    Stu’s faint voice gave way to silence, which was eventually broken by Caesar slamming his fist on the table.

    “How fucking dare they?!" shouted the Roman, a drop of oil splattering on the back of his head as the force of his fist bounced the steak on his plate. “First they don’t invite me to be a part of their little group, then they directly challenge our reign! Why?!”

    “Because they are jackasses?” replied Stu, despite being unsure if he was directly addressed. He felt confident Caesar was about to call them jackasses, and wanted to be ahead of the curve.

    “Was it because of something that I said? Something that I did?” he leant down further towards the page. “It was a perfect match, me with them! Couldn’t be a more perfect one!”

    Perhaps losing his only hope to get through to the smaller man, Stu let out a sigh and turned his head back to the steak he was currently cooking in Caesar's small kitchen.

    “I invented the very concept of powerful triple alliances, for Jupiter’s sake! I formed the First Triumvirate! Me and you two! Yes, I know it didn’t end well. I’m aware you died a horrible death, Crassus… and beating your ass in the battlefield will never get old for me, Pompey… but you would think the leader of the First Triumvirate would be invited when trying to dominate the politics of a wrestling company. A wrestling company, Pompey! I pulled that stunt more than two thousand years ago on a whole nation! But I’m getting cast out from the same deal in the FWA. Outrageous, Crassus, I’m telling you, it’s outrageous!”

    A small groan came from the giant as he realized that the steak was burnt. Nothing was new with Caesar, he continued to speak to his old friends. Not exactly a two-sided conversation, though.

    “I thought Rupert Watkins was a smart leader. Smart and efficient. Just like me, you know. Knowing the people under your command … well … employ in more modern terms. Knowing their strengths, their weaknesses, and utilizing them perfectly. What a leader, Pompey! A leader that commands through respect and fear to some extent, we both know that! No offense, Crassus.”

    Caesar continued to pay no attention to his dinner, allowing Stu to just take his plate and put it in front of him. Once again, no reaction from the tag champion as he allowed his steak to be taken freely.

    “But Kayden Knox? The man who spends more time sulking than winning? That’s his man? There’s a reason I went straight to you two instead of bottom-dwellers like Cato! People like Kayden don’t put themselves into advantageous situations, they just expect someone else to do it for them, that’s the only way they can gain the upper hand! Now that he’s in the inner circle, he won’t need to sulk and cry for other people to come and save him because he already got that. I would bet your whole wealth, Crassus, that once this farce ends he’s going to go straight back to being a crybaby!”

    Stu shamelessly chewed on the steak while Caesar continued to monologue.

    “I get it, Gabrielle is a wrestling legend, she’s literally Executive Excellence herself! A legacy member! I’m sure if I lived long enough, I would be in the Second Triumvirate with my nephew and my right hand man. But why is she tasked with dethroning us, why are they sent after us? We rose to the main event at a very turbulent time to stabilize Fallout! We stood tall against invaders from Meltdown! We did more for Fallout than they ever did! In our Rome, we rewarded men for loyalty and good service, we didn’t send legions after them … well, you did, Pompey, and that’s what killed the Triumvirate… but you know what I mean! That’s just nonsensical!”

    Stu’s gaze flickered for a second to his tag partner again, the mention of ‘us’ and the achievements of MOOT clearly drew his attention.

    “This is simply a concession Rupert has to make to reward his Triumvirate, that much I’m certain. They want more gold, more money. The new title can only have one champion so the only option is to crown them the tag team champions. That problem could’ve been avoided easily! They could’ve recruited the actual tag champions, damnit!”

    Stu’s steak was finished and his wine was also downed. Not seeing a chance to have an actual conversation with Caesar for the time being, the mountain of a man proceeded to head out of the apartment.

    “See you later, Cornelius,” he said with a small wave before turning his back, not catching Caesar’s acknowledging nod.

    The Roman once again turned to the picture of the statues.

    “I take an oath in front of you, old friends, that I will not be steamrolled by a new Triumvirate. I’m the original Triumvir, dammit! I’m not going to be like Kayden or Gabrielle and let the overwhelmingly crushing odds break my spirit! I’m not going to be out-classed, even if it means I have to get the gang back together … or at least … some sort of gang … “


    The next morning, Caesar's frustrations and anger had matured into something more closely resembling excitement. He had sent Stu a 'text message', having learned the secrets behind this technology from the young-ish, bored-ish concierge in his apartment block, informing him to arrive promptly at the New York Improvisational Theatre at nine in the AM. Despite his misgivings about the reasons behind Cornelius' sudden motivation, Stu found himself reluctantly but dutifully arriving at the appointed place at the appointed time. He was nothing if not loyal.

    Inside the theatre, Caesar was already sitting on a seat in the third or fourth row, perusing through the folder's worth of notes that he had out in front of him in some convoluted arrangement on a makeshift desk. He didn't look up from them as Stu made his approach, and the large man wasn't particularly sure if his tag team partner realised he'd entered at all. He stood at his shoulder, his eyes scanning the series of names, phone numbers, key attributes, and question marks that littered the notes. Cornelius was doing precisely the same thing, the Roman's lips moving slightly as he did so, a sign of his keen and unerring concentration.

    "Made much progress?" Stu asked. Caesar's reaction answered the large man's earlier question: a small but noticeable jump from the Roman implied he had no clue that he was no longer alone in the small-ish, new-ish theatre. He'd made his intentions clear in his text message summons. Stu wasn't yet completely sold on the idea.

    "Some, Stu," Caesar began, whilst standing up and clasping his partner by the shoulders. There were bags under his eyes, and Stu realised that he'd probably been up all night working on his project. "I think, my friend, that I might just pull it off. We'll see how today goes, of course. But I'm quietly confident that it's all going to come together. There were points during the night, when it was at its darkest, when I began to doubt myself. There were, at least at the beginning, some set-backs..."

    Caesar trailed off, and bit his bottom lip. It seemed to Stu that he was suddenly locked in deep thought.

    "Set-backs?" Stu repeated. Cornelius snapped out of it.

    "Yes, at the start, like I said," he began, whilst turning back to his notes and beginning to gather them together. "Some of the people that I called… some of them friends, some of them Romans, some of them countrymen… they were less than polite. Others were polite but still said no. I've faced… quite a lot of rejection in the past twelve hours, Stu."

    "Who did you call?" Stu asked. He was genuinely intrigued.

    “Well…” started Caesar, his eyes staring into the distance. After looking quizzically at his partner, Stu decided to turn his own gaze to the same direction, not being genre-savvy enough to know this is the dramatic effect that would lead us into an extensive flashback montage…

    With a fittingly medieval-sounding cover of ‘You’re The Best’ by Joe Esposito, Caesar’s day is being recapped. He’s giving exciting speeches in a square that’s significantly more American, we don’t get to hear what he’s talking about due to the music, but it doesn’t seem to land exceptionally well with the people around him. He’s tried handing out pamphlets in the streets with people passing by him either ignoring him or brushing up the pamphlets after taking them. He’s furiously typing on a keyboard, the computer monitor showing an open Word document simply titled ‘E-Mail’. Even though Caesar kept pressing ‘Enter’, nothing changed on the screen, making the Roman even more frustrated with modern technology.

    The music dimmed down significantly as Caesar was lurking in a haberdashery, following around another man as he was looking for suits.

    “The benefits far outweigh the drawbacks!” pitched Caesar. “Getting to be a part of something important again! Taking a stand against injustices made against you! Join our Triumvirate, Christian! I can even guarantee you that I won’t let you get killed by molten gold down your throat!”

    “That’s very assuring … “ said The Man They Call Deus, sarcastically. Christian Quinn was holding two different pieces of jackets by their hangers, seemingly in-between the two on which to buy. “But I’m injured. As in, very difficult for me to wrestle again. Can’t think myself being much of a help.”

    “My tag team partner literally has a frozen brain! I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

    “Look, Caesar, that’s flattering but do you realize that I was a part of EE in the past? Alongside Danny? Come on man, you sometimes gotta think these things through,” dismissed Quinn. “You’ll have to give me a good reason not to report your little movement to Rupert.”

    As Christian walked away after his final rejection, he did not see Caesar kick his injured leg from behind. The former tag champion fell onto the ground in agony and the last thing shown from the haberdashery was Caesar dragging Quinn into a changing cabin using a hanger…

    At least the up-beat music was up and loud again! With more footage of Caesar trying to recruit a third man for his new Triumvirate. He hoped to find more success in this creepy bog…

    “Oh Cleo, my Cleo, my dear Cleopatra! Nothing would honor me more than repairing old bridges, nothing would bring our foes to their knees faster than being together once again!” serenaded Caesar, but his hopeful expression soon turned sour as he was greeted by the Ravenwood sisters, Celeste and Blair.

    “Her name is Kleio, not Cleo, certainly not Cleopatra,” informed Blair, her tone bearing no semblance of an emotion.

    “Also … she’s currently injured,” said Celeste. “She’s not here.”

    “Even if she was… “ continued Blair.

    “She already has us as her ‘Triumvirate’ or whatever you call it,” concluded Celeste.

    “Go away, you creepy old man!” they shouted in unison, sending Caesar away, but not without the proud Roman shouting back, earning himself some interesting curses in return.

    The next part of the montage was mostly Caesar dealing with the various effects of The Coven’s curses until he was shown in a telephone booth, curse-free for now.

    “Oh, hey, Zehra!” said Caesar on the phone. “I know it’s been a long time since we last talked, I know. I’m a wrestler, I’m on the road constantly! You can’t monopolize my time, you know.”

    “I missed you and sorry for the Hecate thing again! Anyway, speaking of Hecate, do you still have her inside you? I’m forming a mighty trio to go up against Executive Excellence and a powerful Goddess would be a great ally!”

    “What do you mean I only call when I need something? I’m Ca-”

    “I don’t know what ‘siktir git’ means but I’m sure it’s not a good thing.”

    “Come on babe, don’t be like th-”

    “And she closed. Fantastic.”

    Walking away from the telephone booth, Caesar is led back into the montage. He tries to find directions using a GPS. Eventually, he ended up in a moderate-sized arena where Alyster Black of all people was wrestling. He intended to ask Jason Randall too, whilst he was here. The music shut down again when Caesar steps foot into the backstage.

    “What do you say?” he extended one hand to Alyster, presumably after giving him a pitch of Triumvirate.

    “Fuck off, cunt," was Alyster’s only reply before he turns his head back.

    “You’re just salty I eliminated you from that tag team battle royale, loser,” retorted Caesar and that actually got Alyster's attention again. It wasn’t in a positive manner though.

    The next part of the montage was mostly about Alyster chasing Caesar across the street with a spike. Caesar barely got away from that, and eventually he found himself in the company of one last person.

    “Well, this feels oddly familiar.” commented Nova Diamond. “I think I’m going with Team Tom Jones, however.”[/b][/color]

    Caesar raised an eyebrow to indicate his unfamiliarity with the joke.

    “Have you asked Traffic Cone #2 though?” he followed. Caesar was still not getting the joke.

    “I’m not following.”

    “Look. About your offer… I can’t say it’s not intriguing. It is, very very very slightly. Maybe endearing, even,” Nova said before taking a sip from his thermos. “But I have plenty of reasons not to. That’s not even mentioning that I literally retired just a week ago.”

    Caesar brushed that off with a hand gesture.

    “It’s wrestling, people come back from retirement all the time! Plus, there is no one man more perfect for this job than you. No one knows Danny Toner more than you... well, except for Ryan Rondo but he’s somehow even more elusive than you. And Christian Quinn, maybe, but he’s not very well at the moment.”

    “Ryan does his own thing.” confirmed the man. “And what happened to CQ? I thought he was walking again after the Peacock thing?"

    “Plus, it must be angering you as well,” Caesar deliberately dodged the Christian Quinn question. “It could’ve been you guys instead of Executive Excellence! It could’ve been you and Ryan alongside Danny, The Bukkake!”

    That caused Nova to spit out his hot chocolate onto his carpet as he fought but ultimately lost a battle against his own laughter.

    “The fucking what?” he reacted. “You got your Japanese porn tropes confused, chief.”

    Before Caesar could respond, Nova leaned forward, trying to explain his rejection in further detail.

    “I’m not mad that they did it. I’m not jealous. I’m neutral to anything FWA right now. The only thing I care about is my streaming career. You might have felt slighted by Rupert by his decision to not include you in EE, but quite frankly, I don’t care, dude.”

    Caesar was prepared to leave when Nova gestured for him to sit down.

    “Also, if you don’t want me narcing this to Rupert or Danny, I want you and Stu to buy a subscription to my Twitch channel and appear in a future stream of mine as well. I’m going to call you when, capisce?”

    All great politicians needed to make concessions sometimes.

    The conversation with Nova brought the footage to an end.

    “Sounds like it’s been an eventful day.” commented Stu. “And what is a twitch?”

    “Jupiter damn me if I know, Stu," Caesar mused, whilst standing from his seat in the fourth row decisively, his was of notes in his hands. He turned away from the big man and began to walk towards the stage. "But that doesn't matter now, my friend! I have assembled here today a trio of quite excellent candidates to round out our triumvirate."

    "Round out?" Stu asked, with a little smirk. "Shouldn't you say triangle out?"

    He expected a slightly more positive reaction from Cornelius. The Roman usually loved geometry. But today his mind seemed preoccupied with other things. Cornelius disappeared behind the curtain, and then the sounds of mechanisms heralded their opening. Caesar suddenly stood alone on the stage, looking out at the larger man with a proud smile on his face.

    "So… when do they arrive?" Stu asked.

    "They're already here, Stu!" Cornelius declared whilst dismounting the stage once again. He returned to his tag team partner and took his seat at what was now appointed as the judging table. "They're in the green room. Or the waiting room. Whatever it's called. I'm not overly confident with the vernacular."

    "They're here?" Stu asked. "And we've been making them wait, all this time?"

    "You're right, Stu," Caesar conceded. "I'm forgetting my manners. But they should be able to exhibit patience. That's a valuable attribute. I mean, patience was a virtue for us, right? We waited a long time to realise our dreams. Decades for you, millennia for me. Either way, more than a few minutes in a green room, don't you think?"

    "Let's just get them out," Stu said, shaking his head in exasperation.

    "One at a time!" Caesar said, whilst still smiling. "But you're right, on with the show! Atilla!"

    The declaration at the end prompted Stu's Hungarian cousin, stunted in growth but keen of mind and strong of heart, waddled onto the stage, leading out the first of three auditionees. The large man didn't know that his relative was helping out with the endeavour, and offered Atilla a weak wave in recommendation. The small man reciprocated, and then summoned the first participant towards a microphone erected in the middle of the stage. Stu recognised the masked man who wandered up to it. His name was Jimbo.

    "Name and occupation," Caesar stated, projecting his voice towards the masked man on the stage.

    "Jobber Jimbo," Jimbo said. "Professional wrestler."

    The former FWA star was quite recognisable, but had done his best to mask this to a reasonable extent in what seemed to be disparate odd bits from various ancient costumes. A tunic from Greece, a helmet from the Phoenician emote, gauntlets from the Aztecs. Stu surmised that Jimbo must have concluded this to be an outfit that would ingratiate him with Caesar, although the only ancient civilization not amongst Jimbo's ensemble were the Romans. Cornelius decided to no-sell this.

    "Current professional wrestler?" Caesar asked.

    "Um, not quite," Jimbo replied, awkwardly, whilst shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Currently unemployed. But preparing for a major comeback."

    "And why, Jimbo, should we let you into the Triumvirate?" Cornelius enquired, asking the question carefully and slowly. Stu noticed that the question was not worded 'why do you want to join', but rather 'why should we let you'. He imagined this was a deliberate choice.

    "Well…" Jimbo began, with a sigh. "Times haven't been the easiest, recently. And by 'recently' I mean over the last five to ten years, of course. I've had some 'ups', for sure. Did you know that I held your nGw Championship for a few seconds back in 2016, Stu? So we have that in common! Or maybe that was Jugem. I don't really remember. But anyway, my point is that I could really do with this job. It might help to elevate me, who knows?"

    "What do you think?" Caesar asked

    "I don't know," Stu replied, noncommittally. "Maybe. He could slot into the Kayden role."

    "It's not going to be a one-to-one correspondence between the Triumvirate and EE, Stu," Caesar explained. "Besides, you'd have to be the Kayden role. We're the tag team. We are looking for a Danny, if you want to look at things that way."

    "So you're Gabrielle?" Stu asked, with a cocked eyebrow. "Why do you get to be Gabrielle?"

    "Come on, now!" Caesar said, with a roll of his eyes. "The elegance, the glamour… it's obvious which one of us is Gabrielle. Anyway, you're distracting me."

    The Roman turned towards the man on stage, who had been waiting anxiously for the continuation of his interview.

    "Is there anything else that you'd like us to consider alongside your application?" he asked.

    "Well, I have experience," Jimbo said. "I was in EE once before, you know. Along with PAJ and JLW and Jhunha, and the rest of JJJ Security, of course. So I have some knowledge of what makes a stable like this tick."

    "You were in Executive Excellence?!" Caesar asked, somewhat flabbergasted. Jimbo nodded his head excitedly.

    "Seems literally anyone can get into Executive Excellence," Caesar said.

    "Makes you wonder if they're worth emulating at all…" Stu replied, pointedly. If Caesar even heard him, he didn't acknowledge it. Instead, the Roman continued to address the other man.

    "Thank you for coming into day, Mr. Jimbo," Caesar said. "We'll let you know."

    Jimbo shuffled off the stage, looking somewhat pleased with how his interview had gone.


    Atilla led a second masked man onto the stage, and for a moment Stu was taken by fear and disquiet, for the mask that this man wore was one he knew very well. It belonged to El Demente, a man - no, a monster - that Stu had battled with a large number of times during his ill-fated pursuit of the FWA Gauntlet Championship. This disquiet was quietened, though, when Stu began to consider the rest of the man. It was quite clear from his size, his posture, and his general demeanor that this was not Demente himself, but rather someone else in a replica mask.

    "Name and occupation," Caesar said again. This time, though, the person on the stage made no answer. Cornelius raised an eyebrow, and went on staring at the second auditionee. "Okay, let's try another one… why should we let you into the Triumvirate?"

    Although this newcomer was not Stu's nemesis and tortured, the giant still felt himself drawn in by his gaze, as if his steely eyes and cold, dispassionate stare held some sort of power over him that he couldn't fully explain. The silence lingered, with Stu almost hypnotized and entranced by it. And then, finally, he began to speak…

    "I'll just cut right to the point unlike most people on here. Why do most people on here feel the need to jump the shark every promo? Why are there idiots out here that believe the human race is going to go extinct every day? Why do people buy into Capitalist brainwashing? Why do people feel the need to persecute countries like China and Russia while doing jack shit to keep western countries honest? Well you're about to find out next week on Fallout!"

    Caesar made a note on the pad in front of him, before regarding the auditionee thoughtfully.

    "I mean, I love it, but…" Cornelius began, leaning back in his chair and stroking his chin. "Could we maybe try it again, only more… modern? Something updated and current, if you will…"

    The masked man cleared his throat and took a sip of water from the glass on the adjacent table.

    "I'll just cut right to the point unlike most people on here. Why do most people on here feel the need to jump the shark every promo? Why are there idiots out here that believe that professional wrestling is going to go extinct every day? Why do people buy into Capitalist brainwashing? Why do people feel the need to persecute companies like Meltdown while doing jack shit to keep other companies honest? Well you're about to find out next week on Fallout!"

    "What do you think, Stu?" Caesar asked. Stu could tell he was excited, and that he thought he'd found his man.

    "It didn't really work," Stu said. "I get the idea but the points didn't really match up to the whole Fallout/Meltdown situation."

    "Yes, but there's raw talent there, no?" Cornelius argued. "Something to be crafted, in my image?"

    A slight pause.

    "... in our image, I mean."

    "I don't think we should be taking on a project."

    Caesar shrugged in reply, and then turned back towards the stage.

    "Thank you, we'll let you know," the Roman said, with a smile. "Next!"

    The third man appeared from behind the curtain, walking ahead of Atilla as the short-legged Hungarian man did his best to lead the tall, elegant other to the microphone. Unlike the other two, this man wore no mask, and on his body was a well-fitted, navy blue Tom Ford suit with a white shirt and a red tie. He was handsome and elegant, and a smile crept over Caesar's face. This seemed like the real deal.

    Stu recognised the man, of course, as Fallout play-by-play commentator and former FWA X Champion Jean-Luc Watkins. He was surprised to see him here, but here he was.

    "Name and occupation," Caesar said, a third time.

    "Jean-Luc Watkins," he answered, in a calm and collected manner. "You know who I am."

    "Indeed," Cornelius admitted. "And why do you want to join the Triumvirate?"

    "I don't," Jean-Luc replied, matter-of-factly. Caesar pulled a nonplussed facial expression that Stu had never seen on his friend or anyone else before.

    "Then… why are you here?"

    Jean-Luc adjusted his cufflinks before he started.

    "I'm here to tell you, Cornelius, that this has to stop. It's obvious what this is. A rivalling trio to Executive Excellence. And although my colleagues in the green room were of perhaps a lackluster calibre, you yourselves are the tag team champions. At least for now. That means something, and so this Triumvirate would require a response from my father's unit, just as they need to be addressing their attention elsewhere."

    "That's almost entirely the point," Cornelius replied, whilst throwing his pencil down onto the desk in frustration. "Have you come here to threaten us, Watkins?"

    Caesar spat out the name, an accusation of guilt by association.

    "There are no threats," Jean-Luc said. He was doing his best to smile. "Just… a request. To let things play out."

    The suited man said no more, and turned on his heel to leave. Caesar quietly stewed for a moment.

    "Next!" he shouted. Atilla came back onto the stage alone. He looked at Stu and offered a weak shrug.

    "I think that's all, Cornelius," the giant said.

    "That's it?" Caesar said, exasperated. "I stayed up ALL NIGHT LONG for that?! This was what I could muster, after a year of politicking in this snakepit?!"

    "Maybe this wasn't the best idea after all, Cornelius," Stu said.

    "You want to give in to that suit?!" Caesar shot back.

    "No," Stu said, defensively. "Well, yes, but not for the reasons he wants us to."

    Caesar paused for a moment, trying to allay his rage by allowing Stu to massage it. He waved the big man on.

    "Since we got to the 'main roster', and started competing against some of the biggest names in the FWA, what have we relied on?"

    "Each other," Caesar said, almost immediately.

    "And that's what we need to do now, Cornelius. In this new place. We don't need a third man…"

    Here, Atilla cleared his throat awkwardly, and watched on from afar.

    "... Men Out Of Time is a two-man deal. The Triumvirate is in the past, Cornelius. Leave it there."

    "But what about Executive Excellence?" Caesar asked. "And it's not going to stop there, is it? If Rupert wants the belt off us, then Rebirth is just going to be the start of it."

    Stu gave a casual shrug.

    "Same as it ever was."

    Caesar smiled.

    "Same as it ever was."

  10. #10
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    Re: Fallout | “Rebirth” | Promo Thread

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    Re: Meltdown XVII | One Year Anniversary Show | Promo Thread

    ~ Past, Present, and Future ~

    Darkness rules the air around you.

    It is as if the void had opened up and consumed all of the light from everywhere on the planet.

    You can feel a presence around you.

    But you can’t describe it.

    It’s warm and cold.

    Loud and silent.

    You can suddenly hear your heart beating as it pumps your blood through your veins.

    The blood rushes to the tips of your fingers, the pulse coming in hot waves that cause everything else to pulse.

    You're lost.

    Blinded by the agony rippling through you.

    The blood drips down your face.

    You don't know what to do.

    You don't know if you can do this.

    And then you hear the crowd.

    They remind you of how many people are watching you right now.

    People from around the entire stadium.

    People from every distinguishable country, watching from different devices

    They're cheering for you.





    You know they're watching.

    They want you to take down the son of a bitch.

    The son of a bitch who has brought so much hurt.

    So much pain to your family.

    But that's about to end.

    You can hear that small chant of your name from somewhere you, in your current condition, can’t even tell.

    You know where the target is.

    You know what to do.

    You swipe some of the blood off your eyelids.

    Then you do the thing that arguably you’ve been for a lot of your life.

    You run.

    But this time not away.


    Your legs are on fire

    Your throat is coated in bile.

    Your skin is burning.

    Your feet are breaking.

    But that doesn’t matter.

    You are almost there.

    You can end it.

    Until you hear it.

    “LOOK-O OUT-!”

    Glass shatters.

    At the same time suddenly the darkness erupts in a tint of royal purple.

    You are suddenly pushed back with a force like no other and that is when Reagan jolts upright in his shared bed.

    He grips his chest as he tries to regain his breath, the glass shattering still echoing in his ears as he tries to recall where he is. Home. Not at BIB, home. His hair clings to his sweat-clad forehead as his arm reaches out for Sarah. The empty spot beside him does nothing to slow his racing heartbeat. Sarah was never out of bed this early on a weekday, always preferring to spend the mornings cuddled up to him. He’s out of bed before his brain even catches up with his movements.

    Reagan: “Sarah?"

    His heart was almost in his throat at this point he tried to calm himself, he was a rational man, there was a logical solution to this. Two are springing to mind and it’s the first one that frightens him the most. The simple fact is that Reagan 100% knows that Jeffry Mason can break into his house at any time. This one thought is enough to call out again.

    Reagan: “SARAH!”

    Sarah: “Yeah?”

    This time Reagan gets a shout of confirmation back. That’s all he needs. He stares at the ceiling and focuses on his breathing, gradually calming it from stuttered gasps to a pattern closer to normal. The tightness in his chest likely won't ease for hours to come.

    Nightmares don’t get easier when they get predictable. They're only memories, after all. Familiarity doesn’t mitigate the fear that comes with the simple act of existing.

    With a heavy sigh, he takes a step, wincing at his back’s angry protest. The chronometer reads a depressing 11:43. It’s only been a few hours since he fell asleep, but it’ll have to be enough. There’s no getting back to sleep, he knows better than to try. Reagan opens the cabinet and gets the first shirt he sees, a shirt of Pac-Man? Sure. Add it to a pair of jeans and Reagan's looking fine. Completely… fine– Reagan quickly monitors his new scar right below the pinkie, there are a good few new scars that have made their appearance in the aftermath of Reagan's match with the Deathmatch God but it's this one he feels strangely connected to. Because this wasn’t caused by Reagan's opponent. This was caused by Reagan's desperation to win. He caught himself, as he was crawling over to his rival, on a shard of salt-covered glass. Hurt like fucking hell an hour afterward, but at the moment, Reagan didn't feel a thing. He just wanted to win. And he did. But with every win, there seems to be something that has to tear Reagan back down.

    Reagan makes his way over to the living room and silently takes a look into the room where Sarah is sitting cross-legged on the couch, her tablet in her lap and chewing on her bottom lip. She's wearing one of his shirts and her hair is up in a high ponytail which is new.

    Reagan takes a deep breath and reassures himself one more time. Hearing was wholly different from seeing, I guess. But Sarah was here. She was okay. Everything was okay. Well, everything but the fact that she had left their bed without him realizing it. Reagan stayed where he was, leaning his body in the doorframe, and watched her while she was so deep in her thoughts that she didn’t even sense his appearance like she normally did.

    Sarah bit her tongue and tried not to smile. She knew Reagan was watching her. The shivering and the goosebumps were typical signs of it. She just didn’t want him to know that she knew because he had told her once how much he loved to just silently watch her and-

    Sarah: “Reagan! I think I got the perfect replacement for the treadmill!!”

    Sarah Cole suddenly said or more likely screeched, reaching her hand out for him to take and sit beside her which he did immediately.

    Sarah: “Here. Look at that! It is perfect!”

    Reagan didn’t answer, and when she finally managed to look away from the treadmill she just found and loved, she saw him staring at her with a loving smile on his face.

    Reagan: “How long did you know I was standing there?”

    Sarah: “Not that long. A few minutes maybe. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. Look at this.”

    Reagan does take a second but eventually, he takes a look. Yeah, turns out that in Jeffry’s fight with Xavier that we didn't even freaking see, they managed to bust up one of the treadmills, no idea how but it has led to this situation. However, the more Reagan looks at the treadmill…Maybe there's a positive side? I mean this replacement is pretty good for its price, 4.0 motor, solid incline, and decline, Bluetooth audio speakers, and lifetime warranty for the frame, motor, and deck? Does sound pretty good.

    Reagan: “If you think it's a good idea then I say go for it.”

    Sarah: “Already had it in the basket.”

    Reagan: “Of course you did.”

    Another small smile bursts out on Reagan’s face.

    Reagan: “Don't tell me this is why you decided to get up early?”

    Sarah: “um…no. It was actually so I could go see Dad.”

    Ah. Yeah, that’s a good reason. Reagan himself…He hasn’t had a chance to have a proper chance to go down there since straight after the flight back. Maybe that’s Reagan dodging him out of guilt? Who knows anymore?

    Reagan: “Oh. H-how is he?”

    Sarah: “He's been okay. Still testing how much those damn stitches can take until they pop. He, erm, saw the match. He was erm…a bit shocked to be honest."

    Reagan: “Why? I told him that I was gonna pull out the stops.”

    Sarah: “Yeah but I don’t think he realised that THAT was what you had in mind. Reagan….you forced a fork through someone’s tongue. You inserted a gusset plate into his skull. I…I don’t know, I just…want to know if you’re okay after all of that. That’s all I want to know.”

    Reagan feels her hand tighten around his hand as he sees the slight fear in her eyes that he rarely sees. Go on. Lie. Lie to your own wife like the fake person you are.

    Reagan: “Sarah….I’m fine. I know that things got a bit out of hand but it’s what I had to do. Jeffry Mason haunts people. He creates these impossible-to-win situations and that’s what I was trying to stop. And yet…Look at what happened to Tyler.”

    Sarah: “Hey, come on. You were doing the right thing by stopping Tyler before he wen-“

    Reagan: “What if he did go too far though? Jeffry would be out of our lives and I would have considered that a good fucking riddance but now…Tyler’s nowhere to be found. His mum’s been trying to contact me on every social media but I just can’t bring myself to face her right now. Because what can I say? What can I tell her? I don’t even know what the fuck happened, Sarah. Something was in that light tube! I’m sure of it. Tyler wouldn’t turn like that, he’s too stubborn of a friend. But whatever happened, now he’s just disappeared! And it’s my fault!”

    Sarah: “No it isn’t!”

    Reagan: “Yes it is!”

    Sarah: “No it isn’t! Reagan, you were standing up for someone that made both of our lives hell. How many people do you think would have done that? I wouldn’t have, I would have joined in on kicking the shit out of that bastard. But you…you and that fucking dumb moral system of yours that puts respect so highly. As much as I could say that you could have done this or that. Your unbreakable moral code is what makes you, well… “you”. And I love you for it.”

    Sarah kisses the top of Reagan’s head as the fear in her eyes have faded and returned to pure happiness. Reagan winces slightly due to the few cuts that were caused by the thumbtacks but he accepts the pain for love.

    Reagan: “I love you.”

    Sarah: “You better, who else is gonna take you in the state you’re in?”

    The lovely couple shares a smile before they are interrupted by the phone loudly ringing back in the bedroom, reminding Reagan of today's task.

    Reagan: “Ah, shit.”

    Reagan quickly leaps up, reluctantly letting go of Sarah’s hand as he goes to grab his phone before reporting back.

    Reagan: “Shoot…I gotta go.”

    Sarah: “What?”

    Reagan: “I gotta go.”

    Sarah’s confusion quickly turns into concern and annoyance.

    Sarah: “Oh you gotta be kidding…”

    Reagan: “Sorry….”

    Sarah: “Jesus, give me patience or an untraceable handgun. REAGAN! You are injured from like head to fucking toe!”

    Reagan: “I know.”

    Sarah: “Reagan, please.”

    Reagan: “I know and if it was any other match, I would tell them to piss off. But this….this match is too important to me. I can’t let this one go, I need it to happen? Okay?”

    Sarah runs her hand through her hair, considering the options but she knows Reagan. He’s already made up his mind. She ain’t gonna be able to convince not to do what he loves.

    Sarah: “Fine…But you’re taking Jason to Sean’s birthday party.”

    Reagan: “Is Sean the one with the super spiritual parents?”

    Sarah nods and Reagan’s face becomes full of dread.

    Reagan: ”Fine. Love you?”

    Sarah: “Love you.”

    Reagan picks up the bag next to the front door. The bag of wrestling gear and other essentials that they always keep in case of a quick exit. With one more kiss to his wife, Reagan leaves through the door, closing it behind him. A deep breath follows as Reagan readies himself for the journey ahead. He can already tell the plane ride is gonna be hell as he looks at his phone and goes through his notifications and finds one rather interesting one from among the text messages, notifications from Clash of Clans, and a weekly report notification. Reagan scans the notifications closer as he reads the title out loud to himself followed by a loud “huh.”

    The topic of the notification you ask?


    FWAInsider managed to nab an exclusive Q&A with the returning Aka Yurei, which had a bevy of questions tweeted out by many FWA fans from throughout the internet! Fans have wondered what has been up with the “Crimson Ghost”, and we managed to get some answers from the woman herself!


    The next scene opens up in a small studio, where on one side we see the moderator of this Q&A, a mousey woman with blonde hair and a soft face, FWAInsider’s own Grace Quinn. She sits in a leather chair that has seen better days, to be honest. On the other side though, is our surprise guest! It’s Aka Yurei… and she looks quite different from what she did a few months ago! Her hair had grown out a bit longer, down to her shoulders, and the hair color is different too! No longer just a full reddish coloration, instead, Aka’s hair is parted by two distinct colors. On her left side, the dark red hair has given way to a more vibrant shade of reddish pink, and on the right side, her hair color looks to be a green/blue mix. It’s a very surprising change of style from the “Crimson Ghost”. Grace Quinn shakes Aka’s hand and the Q&A officially begins.

    Grace Quinn: “Good afternoon everybody, as I’m sure everyone knows, I’m joined today by the lovely Aka Yurei, known to FWA fans worldwide as the ‘Crimson Ghost’. It’s great to see you, Yurei-san.”

    Aka Yurei: “It’s great to see you too, Quinn-san. It’s also good to be back in the FWA.”

    Quinn: “How are you today? You must be feeling pretty good.”

    Aka: “I’m doing very well, thank you!”

    Quinn: “I notice you’ve got a brand new look, and that is quite the look if you don't mind me saying!”

    Aka: “Thanks, I figured, it was time to change things up and I like the way I look now, so figured I might as well keep it, right?”

    Quinn: “Well, without further ado, we better get right along with the Q&A, what everyone has been waiting for… Are you ready, Aka-san?”

    Aka: “As ready as I’ll ever be I guess.”

    The two of them share a small laugh as Quinn grabs a select few cards that were carefully selected from Twitter for this interview.

    Quinn: “Arthur Amos, @AmosRealG asks, ‘Where have you been? We all missed seeing you on TV!’”

    Aka Yurei smiles and nods her head a little, unsurprised that the first question would obviously be asking where she had been.

    Aka: “Getting right into the nitty gritty, I see– Well, I’ve been resting up for a bit, but still keeping active. I’ve been challenging myself over at Against Medical Advice Wrestling, where thus far I’ve had… more success in the win column. I’ve also been working on starting my own business, a photography company with my great friend Sarah DuBois; plus I’ve been volunteering at health clinics and advocating for more widespread mental health services for all citizens of America.”

    Quinn: “Oh, that’s very interesting! what kind of advocacy are you doing?”

    A small glint grows in Aka’s eyes, happily ready to answer this question as mental health has always been something important to her, even going back to her teen years in an abusive household. Aka Yurei looks into the camera and just starts to talk with great passion.

    Aka: “Well, I’ve recently been campaigning and volunteering with the National Alliance on Mental Illness not just in Washington, but all over the United States, for expanded mental health service availability, whether that be therapy, drug treatments, awareness, what have you. With everything that’s been going on recently, a person’s mental health is more important than ever. Everyone needs to know that there is someone there who can help you if you have the strength to talk about it with a professional. I know it can be scary to share your heart with someone, but I know everyone has the courage to fight.”

    Quinn nods her head and smiles before grasping another card and looking at it.

    Quinn: “That’s wonderful to hear Aka-san, doing good things for everyone… Now, kind of related to the last question: Rocks Rawks, @RawksRocks, tweeted, ‘I heard you were planning to start a business with your friends, so how does that affect your schedule as far as wrestling goes? Will we see less of ‘The Crimson Ghost’ from now on?’”

    Aka Yurei chuckles and shrugs her shoulder.

    Aka: “It’s always hard inter-mixing a professional business life with a career in athletics, but I find a way, ya know. I juggled school life with a full-time wrestling career, so I can manage a business while putting my body on the line too, no sweat. Don’t worry though, you’re gonna see the Crimson Ghost all the same here in some capacity.”

    Quinn: “FWA Super Fan, @FWAFan12, tweeted out, ‘Why did you disappear in the first place?’”

    Aka Yurei shifts a little and hides a little frown written on her face. She’s quiet for a few seconds before turning to Quinn and giving her answer.

    Aka: “Well… if I’m honest, I felt crushed. The way that Golden Rock match ended, and let me be the first to tell you I found peace in losing, that was not the issue, but the way it ended, how Reagan Cole and I were… ya know– It doesn’t really matter; the point is I felt simply demoralized and needed to get away for my own mental health.”

    Quinn: “Jack Johnson of Johnson & Johnson, @RealJJofJJ, asks: ‘What made you decide to come back to the FWA?’”

    Aka: “I feel that enough time has passed from the way that the Golden Rock match ended until now that I can say I’m at peace with the past; I can live with losing that tag match months ago and it’s not going to define my career… not like that.”

    Quinn smiles and nods at Aka Yurei, happy to hear that she decided to come back and has a fresh perspective and a new goal. She takes another card and has a look at it and starts reading.

    Quinn: “FWA Gareth, @GarethFWA, asked, ‘Should we really expect anything different from Aka Yurei this time around, or is it gonna be another case of not getting the job done? Just because you ran off to a different company?’”

    Aka Yurei tilts her head a little and raises an eyebrow. She did not like that question one bit, and she lets it known that she doesn’t care for that type of question. She stares right at Quinn as Aka opens her mouth and speaks with conviction.

    Aka: “Listen, I can’t say for certain what’s in store for my future here in the FWA. I may lose 12 matches in a row, and so what if I do? Only time will tell; half the battle, however, is having the determination to get back up after every single setback. I’ve doubted myself in the past many, many, times, but not anymore. I’m here to stay, and I hope for a long time too. Another thing too, if you wanna disparage me for joining another company when I was away, that’s your prerogative. I don’t have to apologize to anyone for doing what I felt was best for myself; I’m not gonna take that kind of crap from anyone.”

    After a few moments of silence, Quinn quickly scrambles to grab another card with a different question. Aka Yurei looks a little heated after that fairly insulting question from some clown on the internet, and she takes a deep breath and looks at Quinn.

    Quinn: “H-here’s a different question… John Johnson of Jonson & Johnson, @JJofJJ, asks, ‘How does it feel teaming back up with Reagan Cole on Meltdown? Surely you must be excited to attempt to shock the world here with him again.’”

    Yurei's frown shifts to a little smile and nods, this question being much more to her liking, and actually, something she did kinda wanna talk about.

    Aka: “Honestly, it feels good. He and I almost had the world titles in our grasp and we proved without a shadow of a doubt that we belonged on that world stage at that moment. Did we lose? Yeah, but we lost together. Reagan and I have a lot left to prove out in that ring, and when we get the chance, we’re going to do just that. I know Saint Sulley and Bullet Broc are tough guys, and Dave Sullivan is no joke... a former world champion and all of that. We've been there before with Golden Rock, and we almost beat them. I think this time is our time.”

    Quinn: “Another question regarding Mr. Cole… Scott Teal, @ScottyTealio1, asks, ‘What do you think of Reagan Cole? You both almost won the world titles together, do you think he let you down in that match? Do you think he's gonna let you down again in this one?’”

    Aka looks at Quinn and has this funny look, an eyebrow is raised and one corner of her mouth is turned into a frown. Aka does not like any implication in this question and wants to really clear the air regarding Reagan Cole. She stands up from her chair and just begins to raise her voice a little, with a stern seriousness dripping from her words.

    Aka: “First things first, I like Reagan. We teamed once before, and we’re teaming up again for another big opportunity. Do I think that Reagan let me down? The answer to that question is a resounding: Hell. No. Reagan and I did everything we possibly could to stay in that match and nearly shock the world, but we simply came up short; there’s no other way around it. It had nothing to do with either of us letting one another down. Reagan and I, honestly, may not be what people consider friends, but I have a lot of respect for him and feel honored to team up with him again in a proverbial foxhole. He’s someone I’d trust to cover my ass in a firefight. He never let me down before, and I know he won’t ever let me down in the future.”

    Aka Yurei huffs a little and looks around before appearing to have calmed down quickly, and then speaks to Quinn, before walking off of the set, leaving Quinn and anyone else behind the scenes slightly flabbergasted and a little spooked from this new version of “The Crimson Ghost”. She was so assertive, so different from the meek version in the past. This was truly Aka Yurei reborn.

    Aka: “Thank you for giving the opportunity, I think we’re finished though.”

    Yeah there’s nothing on this television. Absolutely nothing. Obviously due to the understandably small amount of American channels on this tv but still…Could have at least had something like a one of those channels that show completely random sit com, these are mostly just news channels and Henry Danger. And let me tell you, if Reagan wanted to watch Henry Danger, he would have stayed back at home. Most of the time Jason either watches that or Ninjago. It's a roulette. Anyway, here we are. Reagan flicking through the channels in a cheap hotel in the middle of Mexico City. As he flicks through at a quick speed, something happens. It's a weird thing but he could have sworn it happened. As he was clicking through, he heard a weird sentence strung together by the channels.

    “Will be”

    And at the last image of a wedding ring during a program on the shopping channel, Reagan just decides to turn off the whole television. Well that was ominous. Must mean nothing right? I mean Reagan’s not exactly the youngest on the roster, 36 years of age. Some say Reagan might've taken too long on the indies to get here but does he regret it? Nah. Nah, he knows that if he showed up sooner, he probably wouldn't have been able to accomplish half of what he's done. Would have been a blip in the history of FWA. But he saw the comments. He saw people talking on Twitter talking about the years that deathmatch has probably taken off both Reagan and Jeffrys careers. Jeffry, it doesn't really matter, this was a last stand for him. But Reagan….Those years are priceless. Each month, each show has to count for something. Because if Reagan is ever forced to retire before he wins the FWA World Championship then…he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he’s being honest. He just wants to bring that Championship back home to Sarah and Jason, that’s the main goal right there. So when faced with the fact that yeah this probably did take years off. Then the question becomes: was it worth it? Was it worth being lead down this dark path by someone who just wanted that last amount of attention? In the end…Reagan lost another friend in battle and Jeffry Mason just fucking walked away. Reagan did everything he could and Jeffry Mason was still on his feet and a small part of Reagan goddamn hates that. He hates that Jeffry could walk away when Roy and Xavier couldn’t. Maybe he should have gone darker? No. No that’s dumb, the depths Reagan went in that match was already way past anything Reagan has ever been apart of except from well….Edward Coleman. Jesus Christ this is a mess. Suddenly there's a knock at the door. Oh come on.

    Standing in the doorway as the door creaks open is that familiar face, and perhaps one that Reagan never expected to see so soon.

    Aka Yurei: "Sup, my tag team partnerrrrr!"

    It's Aka Yurei of course. She doesn't even give Reagan much of a chance as she storms right into his room, right past him and looks around with a smug little smirk on her face. Perhaps Reagan notices the new look and the seemingly new attitude that "The Crimson Ghost" is showing off, or perhaps he doesn't care. Aka notices the perturbed expression on Reagan's face. Is that the feeling of the past? Expressions of doubt? Aka knows all too much about it.

    Aka: "You been okay Reagan? It's been months since I last saw you."

    Aka in her mind admits that much to be a bit of an understatement. As for Reagan….It takes him a second to really acknowledge the situation. Not only caught off guard by Aka’s appearance but also…He’s been spending so much time trying to figure out what’s up with British Kid and what happened in that match that the sudden switch to well, another former tag partner that he feels very much that he let down the last time he saw them, that alone is a lot obviously because the last time the two saw each other, they were lacking their wounds from the Golden Rock battle… the memories hit both of them like a flash. The ending to that match, the aftermath, to have been so close and to have the streams of fate ripped apart and stolen… in Aka’s mind, it comes back, “Is Yurei simply not good enough?” In Reagan’s mind, it comes back as the question of “Where did Reagan go wrong?”

    For Yurei, It's shaken off quickly though. This isn't the past. Aka Yurei looks to the present; she had learned much from her past, and perhaps the most important lesson was to accept things as they were. Not insomuch a laissez-faire attitude, but to not hold onto the past as regrets, but nostalgic memories. Months ago, Yurei was unsure of where she belonged in this business… but her mind and her heart had hardened since.

    Reagan on the other hand….He was the one that got pinned in that match. Golden wasn’t even conscious when he pinned Reagan. He was knocked out by his own partner, it was essentially a handicap match at that point. If Reagan could have kicked out then there would have been a strong possibility that Reagan and Aka would have won the tag titles that night. But because Ramon remixed him not once but twice…Reagan couldn’t do it. He didn’t have the strength. Reagan’s watched that match a couple of hundred times at this point, going through the different scenarios of if Reagan had reversed this move or tagged out here and saved his breath a bit or if he could have played Ramon and Golden against each other so the remix to Golden would happen sooner. But none of those scenarios really matter eh? None of that happened on the night, retrospect is 20/22 or whatever that phrase is. So while Yurei looks to the present…Maybe it’s the 11 year gap between the two competitors that makes Reagan just a bit more retrospective. I don’t know.

    Reagan: “Yeah, it’s been a bit hasn't it? Sorry, I haven’t kept in contact, just Erm….Dealing with a psychopath kinda takes up a bit of someone’s time, y’know?”

    Reagan breaks out a small chuckle as an attempt to relax himself a bit, does Reagan know if it’s working? No clue.

    Reagan: “So what have you been up to, exactly? How’s Brian?”

    Aka looks at Reagan and squints her eyes a little. It’s like she’s examining him, scanning his facial expressions and trying to get a read on where he’s coming from and where his mind is going. After a few seconds there’s a shrug and Aka just sighs and plops down onto Reagan’s hotel bed.

    Aka: “Oh, ya know. It’s alright that you haven’t kept too much contact, and that psychopath sounds like a real piece of work… not that I wouldn’t know anything about psychopaths or stuff. As for Brian? He’s alright. He’s been… out of sorts and really hyper-fixated on losing that world championship match over in AMA… I do get concerned about him, but as my friend Sarah always says, ‘He’s a big boy and can handle himself.’ As for myself, well, been taking it easy, finally learned all I could under Brian; I’m trying to carve out my own path on my own, and though it’s not easy, at the very least, I can stand on my own two feet…”

    There’s a small chuckle that rolls from Aka’s lungs. Perhaps not the best words to use with Reagan considering that he could barely stand on his own feet after that Golden Rock loss. Alas, though. Aka looks around the room and is not really surprised by the moderate squalor of this cheap hotel room. It’s not like they could have gotten a more expensive rooms for the wrestlers, but when you’re on a budget, it’s the best you can do. Aka thinks to herself that her room is pretty much just like this one.

    Aka: “They really sprung us some good rooms, huh? Enough small talk though… I’m here to talk about you, Reagan.”

    Reagan throws his hands slightly in the air as if portraying that he is all ears but as he does, he touches one of his bruises and winces just a slight bit.

    Reagan: “ah…”

    Reagan holds on the bruise a bit but he continues.

    Reagan: “Well that's not exactly my favourite topic but what do you need to know?”

    Aka furls a corner of her lip into an unsurprised and unamused look, just seemingly staring at Reagan. Her expression softens up a bit and she stands up, walking right up to him and poking him dead in the chest.

    Aka: “I need to know that you’re okay. That you aren’t taking everything too hard, and that you can trust me.”

    This was Aka giving Reagan an opportunity. To actually tell Yurei where his mind was at and that he could trust her with these thoughts; it was an offer of an outlet. Aka didn’t expect him to take it, but it was the thought that counted. And Reagan does at least appreciate it and shows it with a little head tilt.

    Reagan: “You know what? I'll be honest with ya…Mentally, physically, Am I at 100%? Probably not. That's the truth. But this match coming up…It isn't about me. It isn't, I know that. I mean it's a tag match when I don't even think we have tag titles anymore, I don't get that whole situation. This match to me is making sure Aka Yurei comes back with a goddamn bang, that's my objective here above everything else right now. So yeah I may not be in the best shape right now but I can guarantee you that I'm gonna bring my best because you are a talent that deserves it.”

    Aka listens and nods as Reagan speaks, before rubbing her chin a little and having a small smile written on her. Aka Yurei looks into Reagan’s eyes, and there’s a sense of a passion there in her own. Something over the last few months had given her a sense of will and an determined spirit. What Reagan sees is not the Aka Yurei of old, one full of self-doubt and who had tried so hard to please everyone and be nice. The Aka Yurei of the past crumbled and cowered, and it showed with her record of 1-6 the last time she was here. Now though, Aka was different. This was someone who knew what needed to be done. She reaches up and pats Reagan on the corner before walking towards the hotel door. She stops at the door and turns her head back to Reagan.

    Aka: “I appreciate that Reagan, but you’re wrong on one thing."

    Aka Yurei lifts her arm up and sticks her index finger out, pointing it towards Reagan and indicating what Reagan is wrong about.

    Aka: "This match is just as much about you as it is about me. It’s about the both of us; I mean, for God’s sake, look who we’re facing! Saint Sulley and his cousin Bullet Broc. David Sullivan is “the man” and probably one of the greatest wrestlers alive, and Broc isn’t chopped liver, he’s an ass-kicker and a tough son of a gun. These two already have a pedigree. They have a lot to gain if they win this match, Reagan. What do you and I have? We have nothing; I know you’ve gone out to prove yourself against Randy Ramon, or so I’ve heard, but outside of that, where exactly on the totem pole are we? We’re at the bottom. We have nothing to lose here, because if we fail to win this match, we’re in the same place as we’ve always been… but Reagan, Reagan, Reagan… could you imagine what would happen if the both of us won?”

    Aka spins around and leans up against the door with a big grin.

    Aka: “We’d almost certainly be recognized and respected, don’t you think? I know I can trust you to pull your weight, Reagan, but I need you to know too, that I’m here to help you if need be. If things become too much for you, come to me and I’ll carry you too. We work together in this match, and in the future. Our age, personality, and other differences won’t matter when we enter that ring. We’re gonna work as a team and help each other. You need this win just as much as me, Reagan, and I think deep inside you know this too.”

    Reagan, like Aka did before, listens and acknowledges what she's saying with nods here and there. She's not wrong. Recently when it comes to Reagan, there's definitely been a mystery to where exactly he's belonged to where on the totem pole because while he's been facing people like MvH and Cyrus Truth, people who Reagan have been wanting to face since he first showed up. The situation it's come around in hasn't exactly lead to title opportunities, in fact, that some situations has felt like Reagan has been…Fodder in a way. Hell, weirdly enough if it wasn't for the aforementioned psychopath, Reagan still doubts if he even would have made it on the card or if he did, he would have been thrown into a random trio to fight in that Stop Sign #2 Memorial match. All these doubts Reagan kinda put in the back of his mind until now so being confronted by it like this, Reagan kinda has to take a step back a bit. But what arises from that is some reinvigorated determination in the eyes of Reagan with a wide smirk across his face.

    Reagan: “Well…Someone got better at their motivational speeches.”

    Aka gives a small clap and nods her head. It feels nice to have gotten a compliment like that just for being honest.

    Aka: “I just figured you needed a little kick in the pants, ya know?”

    Reagan lets out a small chuckle at that. That's fair. But he does need to bring up one thing as he walks up to Aka to meet her at the door.

    Reagan: “....I’m not afraid of Lobster. Or Sullivan for that matter, I already got my ass kicked by him the same week as our last match, funnily enough. They're very strong opponents but…I think we're stronger. Now let's go and kick some Pittsburghers’ ass.”

    Aka nods and swings open the door with a smirk. She holds it open for Reagan to pass through, and as the door closes behind them, so too does their past, for the moment. The both of them are looking to the present, and now stand on the same wavelength, the same page, and the same ideals. This is their match to prove themselves: together.

  12. #12
    Hemmlock's Avatar

    Join Date
    Nov 2013
    Pittsburgh, PA
    Rep Power

    Re: Meltdown XVII | One Year Anniversary Show | Promo Thread

    Bullet Broc is standing outside the Peterson Events Center in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Right where his cousin Saint Sulley told him to meet. He looks up at the stadium and appears to be in deep reflection. He takes in the moment as he becomes completely oblivious to all who's passing by. That includes the several "Hey's" thrown his way from his cousin himself. Finally, on the fifth "HEY", Broc jumps and looks his way.

    Standing next to him on the street is his cousin Sulley.

    Saint Sulley: Hey...

    Bullet Broc: I'm sorry, it's just...I remember this place.

    Saint Sulley: I knew you would. That's why I told you to meet me here.

    Bullet Broc: Rage in a Cage. It was one of my favorite shows you know?

    Saint Sulley: How could it not be? It was all cage types of matches. Steel Cages, Hell in a Cells, Elimination Chamber...when has the FWA booked a pay per view like that?

    Bullet Broc: I don't think they have.

    Saint Sulley: Now you get my point. You and me? The Hardcore Wrestling Alliance? We're going to bring back hardcore.

    Bullet Broc looks back towards the Peterson Event Center in Pittsburgh. He closes his eyes and remembers the match he had here against Tommy Thunder way back in the day. He lost that fight. His face was slammed up against a steel cage several times until he was busted upon, and he ended up spending the early hours of the next day in UPMC Presbyterian getting stitches in his skull. And yet through all of it he couldn't feel a thing. The only thing he remembers is the rush of adrenaline shooting through him. It was a unique feeling unlike any in the world. Fighting in a hardcore match has an extra rush that you just don't get in a normal match. It's like the difference between riding a motorcycle and driving a car. Part of Broc really missed it.

    Sulley wasn't that much different. He took his hardcore roots into the FWA with him, and used them to win the X Championship four different times. But yet through it all, people forgot just how brutal he could be. The suits, world titles, fancy cars, and sunglasses all gave off a different persona for Sulley. Like a young kid who just got drafted into the NFL off of the streets and left a different life behind.

    The thing is, that very way of life is one of the most addicting that there can be.

    Hardcore wrestling, and the rush it provides, is a different kind of drug. One Broc and Sulley both would soon be on.

    Bullet Broc: and I both know, this is it. This is our last run. So I need you to promise me, you and I both are going to make the most of it. We're going back to our roots, and we're going to bring hardcore back to wrestling. And nobody is going to stop us.

    Saint Sulley looks at his cousin and nods his head.

    Saint Sulley: Nobody.

    The two cousins give another non verbal gesture to each other, almost telepathically communicating as they both yet again look back at the Peterson Events Center one more time.

    Saint Sulley: This place may be small, but it beats whatever dump they have us wrestling in Mexico City any day.

    Broc was happy that Sulley was on board. He seemed happier than he had been in the past few months. But still, Broc was concerned. The Sulley he saw at Back in Business, the Sulley who picked apart Joe Burr like an animal, that was a whole different level. Broc wasn't sure whether to be excited about it, or scared.

    He felt like he needed to bring it up to Sulley, but just wasn't sure how.

    Bullet Broc: Hey, you uh...remember that bar we first hit up here? Why don't we go swing by it again? We can talk about Aka and Cole. Figure out our gameplan for the match.

    Sulley nods yet again at his cousin, and smiles.

    Saint Sulley: Mario's Saloon? I think it was down that way, in West Oakland.

    Sulley gestures down the road and leads his cousin down the large steep hill in Oakland.

    Bar Crawl

    Bar One: Mario's Saloon

    Walking down that big hill in Oakland again was the type of nostalgia I needed. That's all this entire thing was about after all, nostalgia. Part of me I think was just making sure that Broc was on board with everything. When I brought it up to him the first time, the idea of going back to our roots, he seemed hesitant.

    As if, we were both too old for the hardcore lifestyle. At 36, we've had our fair share of broken bones. Broc himself I think was worried because he's been sitting on the sidelines for a good while.

    But that's the beauty about hardcore wrestling. It isn't like normal wrestling. You don't have to have as much training or preparation. It's literally just like a street fight. Broc and I were getting into brawls out here in Oakland way before we actually stepped in between some ropes.

    I think part of me wanted to get into a brawl right here and now, but when we finally walked through the door of Mario's, it wasn't as crowded as I hoped. In fact, the entire place seemed pretty dead.

    The music was rocking as Def Leppard could be heard in the background, but the patrons looked more like dead leopards. They were all over the age of 50 at least, and they all looked like they were hitting up for some drinks after an intense game of bingo. I looked over at Broc who didn't seem to care much about the crowd, as we sat right at the bar.

    "So, are you going to order those same wings like you did the first time?" I asked Broc, trying to get a conversation going.

    "Oh yeah. Those wings were alright, but I think I'm actually going to go with a burger" he told me. It was good for us to get some food early. Broc didn't know it, but tonight was going to be a long night.

    The bar maid came around to both of us with a smile and asked us what we wanted to drink. "Two Iron City's please..." I said. Broc's favorite kind. A Pittsburgh drink of champions.

    She quickly reached around and brought us both beers within seconds. I already had mine popped upon when Broc started ordering his burger.

    "I'll take some wings" I told her as she was walking away. I wasn't sure if she heard me, but I didn't really care.

    I took a sip of my Iron City as I turned to Broc.

    Broc seemed to read my mind as he spoke first. "So...Aka...." he asked me.

    Broc was a commentator for a good while. He probably has more scouting on Aka than I have, having watched so many Meltdown matches. But, Broc doesn't quite know what he's looking for in the ring.

    "She's tiny. Like a stick, you could probably pick her up and break her if you wanted to, but that isn't what our advantage is over her. If anything, it's probably a disadvantage" I told him.

    "It is. I've watched her, she's fast and small. Hard to get ahold of. She runs around the ring until her opponent gets tired, waits for a mistake, and then pounces. She's like a snake" he told me.

    He wasn't wrong. She wasn't a type to be underestimated, but she had a weakness for sure.

    "We have something she doesn't have..." I told Broc.

    "What's that?" he asked.

    "Experience. Not only is she still technically a rookie, but she's been pretty inconsistent in her bookings. Like when did she debut? September? And how many matches has she had since then. She doesn't know whether she can hack it or not. You can tell. With that much off time in between matches, she has to be rusty".

    Broc had a look of guilt on his face as he looked down. His burger soon arrived right below it, and yet it still didn't seem to cheer him up. I never saw a burger that didn't cheer Broc up, so I was a little worried.

    "What's wrong?" I asked him.

    Broc turned to me, still with that look of guilt. "You're right about Aka, but...don't her and I sort of...cancel each other out? I mean she's probably wrestled more than I have this past year, the few matches she has had".

    Broc was right, but I couldn't let him think that.

    "Dude, that may be true, but how old was Aka when we were wrestling way back in HWA? How old was she the first time you took a steel chair to the face?" I didn't actually know the answer, but I knew it was probably young.

    Broc however was counting on his fingers trying to figure it out. "Well...she's 25, and that was way back in was 14".

    I laughed. It was a perfect answer.

    "Exactly. 14 years old. That little girl was out writing in her diary about the boy who rejected her back in Japan. Wearing her little school girl uniform and studying math. But do you know who wasn't out being a good little school girl in 2011? You and me. When we were taking baseball bats and steel chairs to the fucking head.

    Do you think Aka and her little school girl friends were getting called The Barbed Wire bastards? Huh?"

    Broc shook his head no.

    "You're Bullet Broc man. That skull of yours has taken so many hits, that it's hardened up. Do you know what Aka's skull is like? It's a soft little baby skull. It'll probably cave in with one good steel chair to the face".

    "Well, sadly for us this match isn't No DQ" Broc said.

    He was right. It pissed me off. They have Randall and Sawyer Xavier fighting in an X Rules match right in front of us. It was an insult. Of course they knew they couldn't just throw us in an X Rules match. It'd be unfair...

    "Well, don't worry, if we lose, I'll make sure Aka gets what is coming to her" I tell Broc.

    I didn't quite like his reaction. He looked, disturbed?

    I questioned whether I should say anything to him, or just let it go. I mean, we're the Hardcore Wrestling Alliance. If we're going to win those tag team championships, we can't be soft.

    But, now wasn't the time to bring it up.

    No, we needed a crazier bar.

    Broc seemed about done with his burger, and I with my beer.

    "Hey, why don't we hit up someone a little more lively?"
    I asked him.

    "What do you have in mind?" he asked. A big smile came to my face.

    "How about Tequila Cowboy?"

    Bar Two: Tequila Cowboy

    Sulley and I soon found ourselves on the North Side. I don't know how a trip into Oakland to meet and plan turned into us hitting up two different bars, but yet here we are.

    We walked into Tequila Cowboy, and it was already a totally different atmosphere than Mario's. Sulley looked excited. I guess I could go for some different drinks. The Iron City I had back at Mario's was pretty warm.

    Sulley led me to the bar where we ordered a couple shots.

    "Tequila" he said.

    I wasn't quite ready for Tequila, but and Sulley must've read my mind because he started laughing.

    "Dude, it's Tequila Cowboy. We have to same some Tequila".

    "I guess you're right" I told him.

    This bar was way too young of a crowd for me. You'd think the one right next to Pittsburgh University would've had more college kids, but no...this was the place. The music was blasting, people were screaming, and drinks were being poured left and right.

    Sulley down his shot as soon as it came and got another.

    I was still staring at mine.

    "Come on dude, drink it!" Sulley shouted out.

    I took a deep breath, and shoved it down my throat as Sulley cheered.

    "Hell yeah! Dude the old Broc is back" he said.

    I'm not sure what I thought about that. The old Broc.

    I was fine with the new Broc. Broc Lobster 2.0 was going to be special, and now it seems like we're going backwards.

    But Sulley insists this is the way to go, and I'm on board. This was my last shot to make something of myself. And I needed to.

    "Broc don't worry, we're going to make you a champion. I want you to just take the pressures off, and enjoy yourself tonight" he said.

    It sort of annoyed me, I'm not going to lie.

    "That's easy for you to say, you already are a champion. In fact you've been a champion what? Seven times? You know Sulley I want...just one. Just one championship to my name. Is that a lot to ask for? Just one championship?"

    Sulley downs another shot.

    "We're going to get it for you!"
    he shouted. I hope he was right.

    Sulley then drinks the rest of his beer as I down another shot myself. I start staring at Sulley chugging the mug of beer, wondering if it was Miller Light or if it was...wait a second Sulley didn't order a beer.

    That's when a big burly kid who looks like he probably plays nose tackle for the Pittsburgh Panthers turns over at him.

    "Hey, that was my fucking drink!" he shouts.

    Sulley looks over at me and gets a wicked smile that I did not like the looks of.

    "Oh, this drink?"
    he says before throwing the drink right in his face. I nearly have a heart attack. Sulley is laughing, as the guy grabs him by the collar. He then takes the glass, the same one he stole, and grips it in his hand.

    "Here you can have it back" he shouts, as she smacks it across the guys head.

    Soon enough, three other football player looking guys come to rescue their friend.

    They start stomping towards Sulley. Part of me wants to leave him there. He did this to himself. But, he's my cousin. Without thinking, I quickly grab a bar stool, and smack it across the one's head. Everyone in the bar is cheering now as Sulley and I are just going to town on these guys.

    I don't even look at Sulley as I'm on top of this one kid who probably isn't even 22 yet. Punching and punching away. I'm not sure what got into me, but the adrenaline is pumping.

    Punch after punch, after punch.

    The last thing I remember seeing?

    A bar stool flying right towards my face.

    Then everything was black.

    Bar Three: The Tap Room

    Broc and I had to get out of their fast. I think he might've had a couple too many shots as he was pretty out of it.

    It was exactly as I wanted. The adrenaline was rushing back through us. We needed to get some practice before Aka and Cole.

    But now what we needed was some distance. Pissing off an entire Football team is probably not the best approach.

    "Take us to the South Side" I told the driver.

    Everything was getting pretty fuzzy, but soon enough we made it to The Tap Room.

    Broc and I stumbled into a booth.

    Dried blood was right below his nose, and I'm pretty sure I had a swollen lip, but it didn't matter. Neither of us felt a thing.

    "Just like old times? Huh buddy?" I asked him.

    But Broc wasn't amused.

    "What the...what the hell was wrong with you?" he said, slurring over some words.

    "We needed practice" I assured him.

    "So you assaulted some guy?" he said, clearly upset about the entire situation.

    "No, wasn't assault. It was just good old fun. There's probably 30 fights in that bar each night. Nobody will remember" I tried to reassure him.

    Broc still wasn't having it.

    I tried my best to change the subject.

    "You and are Broc, we are a team...we...we are better than them, and that proved it. You know we stick together. You know how many of Reagan Cole's partners stick with him? None." I told him. It was a great point.

    "So you have that in common then" Broc stabbed back.


    "Reagan and I have nothing in common. I am better than him in so many different ways. What's he done? Won a Gauntlet Championship? Do you think he could really put in the work to hang with me? If I need to, I'll make sure that he doesn't walk the same way Joe Burr is.

    You see Broc, Joe, he crossed me.

    But now I have you.

    Nobody is going to cross us again."

    Broc looked pissed at me.

    We'll have to get a few more drinks in him.

    Bar Four: Blue Lou's

    I open my eyes, and find myself at yet another bar. I look around and find it familiar.

    "Is this Blue Lou's?" I ask Sulley.

    He shakes his head yes.

    We're both pretty out of it by this point.

    "Why did you start that fight?"
    I ask him. I needed to keep pressing it. What happened at Back in Business, it was scary.

    "Sulley, I'm on board. I want you to...I want you to know that. I'm on board with teaming up with you...and...and I'm on board with winning the Tag Team Titles, and...I'm on board with this hardcore thing...but I'm not on board with recklessly attacking people. It's..."

    But then Sulley cuts me off.

    "It's our way of life. The hardcore life"
    he says.

    "NO! are...a loose cannon Sulley. You attacking Burr, you...why did you do that? Huh? That kid, he lost. You beat him. You won. You could've just walked away there. I don't...I don't get it. It wasn' And yet went and attacked him. Beat him to a pulp. He might not wrestle again.

    You do things. You just keep doing things. And part of me wonders if you'd do those same things to me, Sulley...I mean look at all your partners. Ty Johnson, you did what you did to him, huh...put him...put him in jail? And...and...Kleio, pushed her away.

    And then this Joe Burr kid.

    What if you don't like teaming with me?"

    I spit it all out. He's drunk enough now anyway, he probably won't even remember.

    But what he said next surprised me.

    "Broc...I...that's not going to happen man. The difference between you and them? They teamed with me, for what a year or so at most? You and I have been teaming since April 26th, 1986. That one week man, that one week I was alive, without you, it was hard.

    That was the only week of my life I was solo.

    But I only had to wait a week.

    After that, I wasn't without a tag team partner again.

    You talk about all my tag team partners, but the truth is...the truth is none of them were truly a partner to me, because I already had my tag team partner.

    The same guy I bled with in HWA, the same guy I bled with just now in those bars, and the same guy I'll bleed with to the end.

    You and I...we're going to do this".

    The last thing I remember was that speech.

    What can I say, it won me over.

    I smiled at my cousin before taking one more swig of beer.

    Then my head hit the table, and everything went black.
    Last edited by Hemmlock; 07-21-2022 at 03:08 AM. Reason: Formatting fix

  13. #13
    Cyrus Truth's Avatar

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    Re: Meltdown XVII | One Year Anniversary Show | Promo Thread

    Exile Chronicles (Volume 5)
    Chapter 1: The Hand That Writes The Story

    Back in Business is in the books.

    An event that promised the most exciting, most exhilarating, most shocking outcomes certainly lived up to that.

    Fire was cast.

    Legacies were written and upended.

    Relationships were tested.

    And new champions were crowned.

    Even with everything that happened at Back in Business...the end of Chris Kennedy's Streak, the culmination of a bitter feud between Shawn Summers and Mike Parr, and Danny Toner finally claiming the prize that had long eluded him.

    And the shattering of the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance.

    We open our scene in a rustic office, illuminated by candlelight. A massive oaken desk that looks to have been carved out of a single log, a solid block that was hewn by a master woodworker. Behind the desk is a massive bookshelf with various smaller tomes, but the top shelf? That's dominated by four massive books, leatherbound and accented with steel and rivets to hold the pages within.

    Sitting at the desk, with a fountain pen in his left hand furiously scribbling into a fifth tome like the previous four, is the familiar form of a weary and wayward Exile. Back in Business was, as it usually is, unkind to Cyrus Truth. A chance to reclaim the North American Championship wrested from him within the chaos of a ladder match...but not due to the reigning champion Chris Crowe, nor was it Jason Randall or Johnny Johnson who ended up costing Cyrus the chance at reclaiming gold.

    ...But that seems to be the furthest thing from Cyrus's mind. Not that Cyrus isn't clearly upset. Even with his face buried in the book, his pen a blur of ink and lines, the furrowed brow of The Exile is very evident. It's the face of a man who's troubled. Contemplative. And absolutely livid.

    "Why...are we wasting our time?"

    Cyrus speaks, not really addressing anybody in particular, but seemingly addressing the void, or perhaps the FWA faithful, or perhaps even the roster of Meltdown itself. Despite everything that's happened, all of the hardships and tribulations that have largely defined Cyrus's last few years with FWA, when The Exile speaks like this? He speaks like the four time World Champion, like the man who's held that championship for more days cumulatively than anybody else in FWA's the king of vagabonds he had long been.

    It's a tone that isn't demanding respect, but wants answers. Answers to a question that has recently arisen, answers to a problem that should be faced head-on, but for whatever reason isn't. A thorn that has been thrust into the side that, instead of removing it, is being ignored while people are telling you it doesn't exist.

    As Cyrus continues to speak, he continues to write. The language is...old, archaic. Almost impossible to decipher, as it's using a jumbled mixture of several world languages. But his spoken words? Absolutely impossible to mistake.

    "It's...almost comical in a way. Back In Business, the biggest event on the calendar for FWA, is always a spectacle, even if nothing truly unexpected happens. But this year...SO much happened. The Dutch bitch dethroned Kennedy and ended the Streak. Shawn Summers and Mike Parr damn near killed one another in a match a year in the making. A shocking conclusion to the rivalry between Randy Ramon and Krash. And Danny Toner...the drug-addled never-was continued the year's trend of crowning new champions off the backs of short title reigns to become the undisputed FWA World Heavyweight Champion...

    "All of this! Every single moment, as shocking and incredible as it was...and YET! The only thing anybody is talking about is...a FUCKING hostile corporate secession. A fucking parasite dressed in a suit proclaiming a new age for Fallout, separate from FWA. The revival of the most cancerous faction in FWA's history as the CORNERSTONE of the all new Fallout, with the new World Champion at its head!

    " I the only one on this fucking roster that has a problem with this? And I'm not talking about the delusional gripes of Devin Golden talking about a championship he no longer had a claim to. It seems to me that I'm one of, if not the only people on FWA's payroll that truly understands the gravity of what Jean-Luc's daddy did at Back in Business. They TOOK our World Title! They stole our Tag Team Championships! Oh sure, they'll slap a new coat of paint on both titles and rebrand them, but Danny Toner and the Men Out of Time certainly haven't disavowed the legacy of their championships in favor of a new lineage. And I doubt highly they will. After all, it's one thing to be a World Champion. It's another thing entirely to be the champion without the legacy to back up your prize."

    Cyrus continues to write, his pace quickening as words start to flow from his pen like water from the sky. The ink starts to dry up as Cyrus pauses briefly to refill it from an inkwell before quickly resuming. Cyrus's face is half-hidden, as we only see the right side. But his jaw is clenched and his eyes are focused, filled with righteous indignation and fury.

    "Rupert Watkins has no idea just what the hell he did. He thinks that this little stunt, this act of secession was justified. A business decision in the face of a chaotic buffoon on the other side of the aisle throwing shit against the wall like a feral monkey hopped up on methamphetamines. Rupert Watkins stole FWA's pride with his little stunt. Had he made his champions abdicate their titles before splitting off to become their own separate entity, that would've been one thing. But that's not how that little dog and pony show went down. No...instead, his champions keep their prizes, ripping them away from FWA as spoils of war.

    "And make no mistake...war has been declared. Rupert may not realize just how grave his decision was at this point...after all, he's little more than a corporate cretin with a son that's enjoyed marginal success in the ring. But Rupert did throw down the gauntlet. He stole our titles. His champions slander our pride by wearing FWA gold. And his insistence on reviving Executive Excellence with that problematic thug and the bitch that hasn't learned to stay retired when I RETIRE her ass as the vanguard of a man who's legacy is that of crumbling when faced with pressure is nothing short of a slap in the face of every single FWA champion who ever was.

    "Even then...I'd be less than absolutely furious if I didn't feel like the rest of Meltdown's roster couldn't care less. Aside from Devin Golden's little outburst at the media scrum for Fallout's secession over a title belt he had lost and hadn't earned back, where the HELL is the outrage from the roster? Russnow and the harpies' limp-dicked response to this insult is frustrating enough. But...what of the others?

    "Michelle? The conqueror of the Streak, the Fleeting World Champion has said nothing. Well, probably by now she's said something. Either about some stupid Nephew bullshit that appeals to twenty-something mouth-breathing malcontents or giving yet another one of her famous, long-winded and droning stories about daffodils in a valley and hooking up with some shark's scion in a clandestine love affair in some back-alley motel before moving on to flaunt her successes as if moments are all it takes to build a legacy. She defeats Chris Kennedy at Back in Business, a feat that will never be repeated in this lifetime, and FWA's World Title is ripped away by some corporate de-merger. And she does NOTHING. She'll continue to do nothing aside from show up, get her pops and a few more fleeting accolades, and go stumble out somewhere to snort a rail off some filthy bar top.

    "Thomas West? The man who lost the gold? How the fuck is he not foaming at the mouth wanting to reclaim some of that pride that got beaten out of him at Back in Business? The 'King of the Deathmatch,' pfft. For someone willing to mutilate his body for a chance at the World Title, to be something more than a muscled freak and a catchphrase involving oil, he seems AWFULLY content to play this stupid little game of Uncle's with The Sleeping Waif and the consistent disappointment that is Gerald Grayson, a man who's sole claim to glory is winning a title off his tag team partner/utter obsession...oh wait! He didn't even beat her for the title! He beat someone else when Michelle couldn't even stomach a little bit of pain to defend the strap..."

    Cyrus grits his teeth as his writing stops, the candle nearby flickers a bit as if it's afraid of the bubbling rage of The Exile that threatens to boil over.

    "Is this all that's left of FWA? A collection of children playing at being champions, too content to exist when action and resolve is needed? Have I...have I truly failed this badly to show my peers what it means to live, breath, and act as a champion? I could blame the others, of course. Devin Golden has as many World Title reigns as I do, but lately it seems all he's interested in is being a lunatic, or a troll, or hell? Both. A man defined by his mood swings, but would think someone with his history would've learned SOMETHING, would've embraced certain Truths about what it is we are and what we should aspire to with our legacies. But...that's not what's left of The Golden One, or the Rotten Gold, or whatever the fuck he's calling himself these days. Relying on him these days is an exercise in stupidity and shortsightedness.

    "And our 'champion.' The last remaining reigning champion on Meltdown, the man with admittedly a remarkable reign in a sea of flickering rulers, our 'esteemed' North American Champion. This is the man who's left, the one sole titleholder on a brand who's had its pride and soul ripped from it by the action of the profit chasers and backbiters. Pity that Chris Crowe is little more than a sideshow creep, philandering pig who, in the biggest match of his career? A match that could've, should've defined him and his legacy moving forward from a middling wrestler to a future legend?"

    Cyrus's jaw tightens even harder, a vice of flesh and bone that threatens to shatter his own teeth in fury. His face turns as he says venemously:

    "He kept his reign because a parasite hungry for relevancy handed him victory through the inferno..."

    As Cyrus's face turns, we see the wounds of the ladder match's climax still evident as Cyrus's left side is still noticeably blistered from the heat of Crazy Harry's fireball, which was the deciding factor that gave Chris Crowe the opening to secure the title and walk out of Back in Business as North American Champion.

    It would seem that the announcers and the audience's initial perception that the fireball simply grazed Cyrus wasn't entirely accurate. While Cyrus didn't burn like he had at another Back in Business, the fireball left its mark, serving as a bitter reminder of Cyrus's ambitions being stymied not by another wrestler, but by someone who had no business in a clash of champion and challengers.

    Cyrus exhales sharply, still riled at everything that's transpired in the span of a few days. He turns back to the tome, refilling the ink in his pen and resuming writing in one deft stroke.

    "I return to my previous question. 'Why are we wasting our time?' No calls for retribution against the vultures who stole our titles. No declarations of crowning new champions to try and erase the stain of what Executive Excellence and Rupert Watkins did to the legacy of FWA. I should be competing in the Elimination Chamber RIGHT NOW against Russnow thinks is the key to rebuilding his brand after Watkins cut his balls off and stapled them to his front door, christening a revival of FWA's pride in a maelstrom of steel and violence, but that's NOT what we're doing. We're having a TRIOS MATCH. A trios match with no stakes, no purpose aside from letting my peers showcase their inadequacies and their lack of a goddamn SPINE underneath the façade of a wrestling exhibition.

    "Fighting Michelle, her boytoy, and that hack Thomas West doesn't appeal to me without stakes. Having to team with the craven and the crazy is even less appealing. As Fallout crowns new champions and fortifies, we squabble amongst ourselves in meaningless farces instead of someone, ANYONE in this FUCKING COMPANY speaking up and taking a stand against this indignity!

    "But...that's what happens, after all. What can you expect, when the hands that have been writing the story for the last year have been struggling to write paragraphs and sentences, when legends should be writing epics? So be it, then. If no one on Meltdown's roster can recall what they should be doing in the face of this travesty, if not a single one of them can be bothered to get angry and want to show Fallout that the gold they stole is not their legacy to destroy, then my hands will take the pen and tell the story.

    "I am the man who's been the World Champion of FWA for more days than anyone.

    "I am the man who's burned twice at Back in Business, fighting like hell for his principles.

    "I am he who's soared, who's struggled, and who's never...NEVER forgotten the Road that took him here. Who's story hasn't ended no matter who has tried to outshine him, outlast him, and tarnish a legacy he's built, brick by bloody brick.

    "I've been writing the story of Cyrus Truth for many years. Longer, perhaps, than anybody could ever truly comprehend. And it's been a story filled with more twists, turns, and secrets that no one, not a single soul can fully understand and appreciate. But the story doesn't end just yet. Not while there's war to be had."

    Cyrus finishes his last sentence, ending it with a flourish. Putting an exclamation point on not only what he was writing, but also what he was saying.

    Cyrus Truth, for whatever flaws he has, is a man driven by conviction. Sometimes to his fortune, but just as often to his ruin.

    But convictions are, in The Exile's mind, what separate the ones that history forgets from the ones who write history. It's what separates legendary champions from titleholders looking for one accolade to constantly fill a void their own insecurities, from kings who'll defend their domain to their dying breath to petty lords who'll squabble over what rocks and dirt are left when vandals come marauding.

    Cyrus runs his fingers over the page, careful not to touch any of the still-drying ink. He takes the fountain pen and empties the excess ink into the well as he stands up.

    "War is coming. Not because I say it is. But because it's the only recourse. Sooner or later, my peers are going to realize that. Probably right when it's too late for any of them to make any meaningful contribution to the fight. But that's fine. If they want to play at being champions and wrestlers worth caring about with these little showcases instead of turning their frustrations at the true enemy? I'll humor them a little, right up until I drive my knee into their ribs and drop them on their heads.

    "I will not let what happened at Back in Business be just another footnote in the death of FWA. I've fought more than my share of wars in the wrestling scene, several of them over reasons far less grievous than the bullshit that was pulled at FWA's showcase event. But I'll fight this one, because it's worth it. Worth it for a company that, for as many times as it's disappointed me, has also provided me the avenue to continue building a legacy that's meant everything to me. Worth it for the champions who've come before me, who've struggled against the whims of corporate suits and duplicitous adversaries to build something. And worth it even for them, the children on Meltdown's roster who don't even realize what they've lost and stand to continue losing.

    "So...I'll fight. I'll crush the Nephews and punish them for letting this shit happen in the first place. And if Devin or Chris want to interfere with this demonstration of consequences, then to hell with them too. Let them all struggle to build something from the ashes left behind by Executive Excellence and Fallout's scorched earth policy.

    "As for me? I still remember how to tend to the flame..."

    Without another word, Cyrus moves his hand towards the candle, picking it up. It's been burning for a long time, its wick starting to reach its end. Wax drips, drips, drips...coating The Exile's hand, burning it.

    But what's that compared to having burned before, the way that The Wayward Warrior has already burned for his convictions?

    He passes the candle over the book, the heavy tome that's the fifth in a series that Cyrus has presumably been writing...or perhaps this story has far more tomes that we can't even see.

    Most of the words in the tome are in that strange amalgamation of ancient languages. But the last thing written is a quote from Thomas Carlyle:

    "Conviction is worthless unless it is converted into conduct."

    Wordlessly, Cyrus Truth stands.

    Tall as the day he walked into FWA.

    Tall as the day he walked into wrestling for the first time.

    Determined to not let legacies be tarnished by retribution and greed fueled by opportunity.

    Cyrus walks away with the candle into the darkness surrounding. But he leaves the book behind on the desk. Leaves it open.

    After all, why put it away with the rest of the stories?

    This still being told. Still being written...
    Something Witty!

    Cyrus Truth
    4x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    1x FWA North American Champion
    Carnal Contedership 2016 Winner
    2x CWA World Heavyweight Champion
    1x PnH International Champion

    Konchu Hao
    1x FWA X Division Champion
    Ground Zero Winner (Season 2)

  14. #14
    WC Hall Of Famer

    Jimmy King's Avatar

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    Re: Meltdown XVII | One Year Anniversary Show | Promo Thread

    * Exclusive*

    Clean Slate

    Back in Business has come and gone, but following night two events, had been catching up with folks following the weekend-long event. One superstar, "The Wildcard," Jason Randall, was backstage for night two despite not competing. Randall is wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt, an unzipped leather jacket, and black jeans and boots. It was then when usual Meltdown ring announcer Katie-Lynn Goldsmith catches up with Randall, Goldsmith is usually the ring announcer for Meltdown but for Back in Business she's a backstage correspondent.

    Katie-Lynn Goldsmith: "Jason Randall, last night you suffered another tough loss, and this time, you did not have your shoulders pinned to the mat in the process. What is your thought process, and what is next for you after this?"

    Jason Randall: "I'm going to be honest with you and everyone else when I say this is my fault. This loss is on me. I took an unnecessary risk, and it cost me my ultimate goal last night: leaving this stadium with the North American Championship in my possession. I stand before you empty-handed, and that's on me. Chris Crowe keeps his vice-like grip on that championship, and that's on me."

    "I know this sounds like I'm throwing myself a pity party, but that isn't it. I'm accepting responsibility. I realize that something needs to change. I'm tired of being seen as content and accepting of loss after loss because, in reality, I'm pissed off. I'm not going to make any bones about it, Katie; I'm pissed off. I can't go on blaming others or the man above because what I should be doing is taking a long, hard look in the mirror, and I'll find the one responsible for this rough patch that I can't seem to find a way out of."

    "That's my thought process right now, Katie, and as for what's next? I don't know for sure, but I know damn well that the next time I step inside that ring, there will be a more fired up and a more pissed-off Wildcard that the FWA fans have been missing. I tried to be something that I'm not when I made my return, and that came back to bite me right in the ass. It's time that I go back to what brought me to the dance in the first place. I go back to what made me; I go back to the Wildcard that held the X-Division Championship with pride. I know that you remember that Wildcard well, Katie."

    Katie's face turns white, and all she can do is slowly nod. She remembers when Randall and Penny kidnapped and tied her to a chair.

    Jason Randall: "You don't have to worry about that Wildcard, Katie; I promise you that. No offense to you, but there's far bigger fish for me to fry. I will redeem myself, even if that means starting from the bottom. I will work my way up the ladder and earn my opportunities; if that means starting with some bottom dwellers, then that's what I'll do.

    Randall is about to leave the interview area, but he's stopped as Meltdown's Brand Consultant, Jon Russnow, walks up to the interview set.

    Jon Russnow: "Mr. Randall, I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying, and I find that last part admirable. You know, where you said you want to work up the ladder and earn your opportunities. Well, what I'm about to propose to you will go against your wishes."

    Jason Randall: "Oh yeah, what do you have in mind, Mr. Russnow?"

    Jon Russnow: "Well, as I'm sure you saw what transpired at the end of tonight's festivities with the forming of Executive Excellence and all that jazz, but something else that happened in all that was the firing of Alyster Black. Why Watkins felt the need to fire one of his own is his own business, but the thing about it is that Black still possesses the X-Championship. Despite not being employed by either FWA or Fallout, the man holds something that is not his property."

    Jason Randall: "Yeah, what's your point?"

    Jon Russnow: "My point is that I'd like to bring the X-Championship back to Meltdown and, most importantly, home to FWA. I think that you're the perfect candidate to do just that. As you previously mentioned, you are a former X-Champion and add that you're a mercenary, so there's a prize in it for you, except instead of cash, it's a championship that was held proudly by you."

    Jason Randall: "How would I go about doing this?"

    Jon Russnow: "There are already rumors swirling that Alyster Black will be going off to defend the title in other promotions, and once I find out where that will be, I will be the first to let you know and book you there to reclaim the title hopefully. Don't worry; I'll give you some time to mull it over because I know that you have plans in mind, but try not to take too long."

    The offer does seem to be weighing heavily on The Wildcard's mind as he looks like he's thinking it over.

    Jon Russnow: "One more thing: if you do choose to jump on this offer, and say you do beat Alyster Black for the title and bring it back to Meltdown, then your next match that I've already booked will have a lot more incentive for your opponent, although given the rumors I've heard about him I'm not sure he would deserve it."

    Jason Randall: "Who is it?"

    Jon Russnow: "Your opponent on the first anniversary of Meltdown will be Sawyer Xavier. I wanted to give you a gimme, a pick me up match if you will. Not to discredit Mr. Xavier, but if rumors about what he has said are true, well, then quite frankly, I don't think so highly of him. Besides, it goes with what you were saying. You wanted to start at the bottom; well, there you go."

    Russnow goes to leave, but before he walks off, he places a hand on Randall's shoulder.

    Jon Russnow: "Good luck at Meltdown, and please let me know as soon as you can whether or not you can take me up on that offer."

    Jason Randall: "I'll do it."

    Russnow looks a bit surprised, clearly not expecting an answer so soon.

    Jason Randall: "If I can't beat Alyster Black for some reason, then I don't want to be handed any more title shots. I want to earn them. As for this job, no offense, this isn't for you, this company, or this brand; this is for ME."

    Randall gently removes Russnow's hand off his shoulder and walks away before a flabbergasted Russnow can respond.


    Some time has passed since we last saw The Wildcard in that interview, and since then, his scheduled match with Alyster Black has gone down, but it did not end in his favor. Unfortunately, The Wildcard suffered another setback. He was unable to defeat Alyster Black and reclaim the X-Championship. He did gain respect for the hardcore superstar he faced off with at that other promotion's show; Alyster pulled no punches and had an answer for everything that The Wildcard threw at him. Randall learned firsthand why Alyster had been a champion for as long as he has, and he knows that it may not be the last time they face each other, and if they ever do face off again, Alyster might not be as lucky.

    A lot is running through the head of The Wildcard at this time. He's on his way to Mexico City, Mexico, for the next Meltdown episode, and it just so happens to be the one-year anniversary of Meltdown. Randall has decided to make the trip by car since he lives so close to the border in San Diego, even though it'll be some time after crossing the border when he'll be in Mexico City. He doesn't mind the long drive, though, and he's not alone on this trip. Penny, his significant other, has tagged along for the journey. Penny hasn't traveled much since she stopped competing full-time for FWA, so she's excited to tag along, see some old colleagues, meet new stars, and spend time with Randall. Since his return, they don't get to spend as much time together as they'd like, so this is an excellent opportunity for them to do just that.

    There is one thing that Randall plans to do before the show, and that's a visit with an old friend that sent him a text message a few days ago requesting a meet-up. Randall hadn't seen this old friend in several years, damn near almost twenty years since he last saw this person. Randall is thinking about this meeting, as well as his upcoming match with Sawyer Xavier, also trying to focus on his driving as Penny is humming along to the song that's playing/

    Penny: "You're quiet today."

    Penny says to him as she stops humming; the song ends.

    Jason Randall: "Hm, oh yeah, I guess I am; I'm sorry about that."

    Penny: "There's no need to apologize, don't be silly! I'm trying to make some conversation."

    Jason Randall: "I just have a lot on my mind right now, that's all."

    Penny: "Like what? Your match?"

    Jason Randall: "That, and this meeting with my old friend before the match. I'm just a bit full of nerves, that's all."

    Penny: "It's been a while since you've seen this person, huh?"

    Jason Randall: "Yeah, it has been a while. Almost twenty years since I last saw them. They're the person that trained me and helped me become the wrestler that I am today."

    Penny looks at Randall in surprise with her mouth agape.

    Penny: "Really? Oh wow, that's so cool! I didn't know that's who you were going to see."

    Jason Randall: "Yep, that's the one. I wouldn't be the wrestler that I am today without him."

    Penny: "Do you know why he wants to meet up with you so suddenly after all these years?"

    Jason Randall: "I honestly haven't the foggiest idea why but it'll be nice to catch up a little with him."

    Penny: "Well, that's good, and what about your match with this Sawyer Xavier kid?"

    Jason Randall: "I don't know much about him other than he's young and outspoken. He's not afraid to speak his mind, and due to some possible rumors, he's landed himself in hot water with the higher-ups."

    Penny: "It's up to you to do their dirty work and teach him a lesson?"

    Jason Randall: "I have nothing against the kid; he's just trying to make a name for himself."

    Penny: "Well, he can certainly try, but he won't be making a name for himself at your expense!"

    Jason Randall: "Well, yeah, that goes without saying."

    Randall winks at Penny, and they continue their trip for another couple of hours before finally arriving in Mexico City. Penny will be going off to sightsee while Randall visits his old friend, and after the visit, he's agreed to meet up with Penny to join her in some sightseeing.


    The Wildcard arrives at this little hole-in-the-wall diner in the middle of Mexico City. It's where he and this old friend had agreed to meet up. He's dressed casually for this meet-up, a black leather jacket with a Guns' N' Roses t-shirt underneath, black jeans, and black boots. He enters the diner, looks around at the tables, and finds someone sitting alone in a booth, and it's then he realizes that's his old friend. He nervously makes his way over and sits in the booth across from his old friend. He has managed to shake off some of his nerves and clears his throat before speaking up.

    Jason Randall: "It's been a while, Ben."

    This old friend, Ben, had been reading the local newspaper while sipping a cup of coffee. He places his mug and paper down and lifts his head to face Randall.

    Ben: "It has been quite a long time, hasn't it, Mr. Randall?"

    Ben speaks with an English accent and responds with a slight smile at Randall.

    Jason Randall: "Big Ben Prescott! Big Bad Ben Prescott!"

    Benjamin Prescott: "I'm afraid it's just Benjamin these days, Benjamin Prescott. Those big bad days are far behind me now."

    Jason Randall: "The Scourge of Blackpool!"

    Benjamin Prescott: "I haven't heard that one in years! No one ever seems to remember that one."

    Jason Randall: "How could I forget? That's how I knew you. That's why I went to train at your school."

    Benjamin Prescott: "Ah yes, about 18 years ago, correct?"

    Jason Randall: "Just about, yeah. Time flies when you're having fun, I guess."

    Ben curtly nods in agreement with a small smile before taking another sip from his coffee.

    Jason Randall: "Not to change the subject, but surely you didn't come all this way to meet with me to reminisce about your glory days, no offense."

    Benjamin Prescott: "Oh, none taken, my dear boy, and don't call me Shirley."

    Randall chuckles at that, knowing the reference. Ben still has a sense of humor it seems.

    Benjamin Prescott: "No, that's not why I called you here, and I'm surprised you figured out it was me."

    Jason Randall: "Well, the initials you left in the message made it pretty simple to put two and two together."

    Benjamin Prescott: "Ah yes, well anyway, I've asked you to meet me here today because I have an offer for you."

    The Wildcard raises an eyebrow, wondering what this means.

    Benjamin Prescott: "Well, I've been watching you compete on TV and while it makes me happy to see you on TV, what doesn't make me happy is seeing what you've become."

    Jason Randall: "What do you mean?"

    Benjamin Prescott: "You don't know this, but I've been following your career for as long as I can remember. Not every day one of my students makes it to the big time, but you were a different story. You were one of my greatest students, and I'm not just saying that to blow smoke; I mean it."

    "You were different from everyone else that I ever trained. You had this killer instinct that most of my other students lacked. Some showed hints of it, but never as consistently as you. How you carried yourself in the ring was a sight, even with whatever atrocious gimmick you were saddled with when you got your first big break."

    Jason Randall: "The rapper gimmick."

    Ben shudders at the thought of that gimmick.

    Benjamin Prescott: "What a horrendous gimmick, but you did your best to make it work. Then you evolved from that while keeping that same killer instinct and viciousness inside that ring all these years later. Well, except for these days. It's become apparent to me that you've regressed; you've become more content, more accepting of defeat. I know you don't like to hear me say all of this, but I can tell it's been eating away at you. I saw that interview you did about a week ago where you expressed your frustrations, and then you took up that boss of yours on his offer."

    Jason Randall: "Yeah, that match didn't go how I wanted it to."

    Benjamin Prescott: "Ah well, I see. That is a pity, yes."

    Jason Randall: "Look, I get what you're saying. Yeah, I haven't been the man that I used to be. I've lost a step or two, but you know what? I am sick of it. I'm sick of being so accepting of defeat and just going through the motions. Something needs to change."

    Benjamin Prescott: "Perhaps I could help you move forward with that change."

    Jason Randall: "What are you getting at?"

    Benjamin Prescott: "I'm saying that I'd like to offer my services to you. Think of it as an advisor role. I won't escort you to ringside, but I'll travel with you and offer you advice; I'll help you find that edge that's been missing. I'll help bring back The Wildcard of old who is desperately needed."

    A waitress walks over and leaves a glass of water on the table for Randall and then refills Ben's cup of coffee.

    Jason Randall: "That's a lot to think over right now, and I've already got enough on my plate as it is with my match coming up."

    Ben takes a sip from his fresh brew just as Randall drinks water.

    Benjamin Prescott: "Ah yes, you have a match with that young Sawyer Xavier fellow, correct?"

    Randall as he takes another drink.

    Benjamin Prescott: "I've watched this young man, and he's quite good in the ring. Immensely talented, but he's got a chip on his shoulder, hasn't he?"

    Jason Randall: "Yeah, that's right. The kid thinks he's owed something. He believes that he hasn't had a fair shake of things. He's bold and outspoken, and his mouth probably landed him in trouble with the big wigs on Meltdown."

    Benjamin Prescott: "He reminds me of a young man I once knew. Full of piss and vinegar. Chip on his shoulder and wasn't afraid to speak his mind."

    Jason Randall: "That guy sounds familiar."

    Benjamin Prescott: "Why don't you let me help you bring him back? Bring him back, and he can help this young Xavier lad try to prove his worth by beating him from pillar to post."

    Jason Randall: "It is tempting."

    Benjamin Prescott: "It bloody well should be; you're the one that wants to bring it back. Instead of pussyfooting about, why don't you do something about it?"

    Jason Randall: "Well, when you put it that way. Do you want to help me bring out this old me? Fine. You've got a deal."

    Benjamin smiles and nods at this, seemingly pleased with himself.

    Jason Randall: "It's one of those extreme rules matches, you know, with the weapons?"

    Benjamin shudders at the thought.

    Benjamin Prescott: "Ah yes, I forgot that you have an affinity for that."

    Jason Randall: "What I do to this kid won't be for the bigwigs, brand, or nonsense like that; it'll be for me. He doesn't know what he's getting into when he steps foot in that ring. This is an X-Rules match. This kid is stepping into my world. This kid wants to make a name for himself; he can try, but I'll make damn sure he won't forget my name. A new season is upon us, so it's a clean slate. This season will be my redemption. This season will be all about The Wildcard."
    Rest in power, Flock U
    Rest in power, TCON

    Team Cyrus T is Best for Business


    Quote Originally Posted by Ed
    Stop the hating of the E-Feds. If you don't like something, that's fine, just ignore it and let the people who do enjoy what they're here on WC to do. Mocking them to make you feel less of a geek for being on a geek on a wrestling forum is lame. If you want to not read their posts, I can fix that for you.

  15. #15
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    Re: Meltdown XVII | One Year Anniversary Show | Promo Thread


    Every other table was occupied, so she was left with no choice other than to sit at the bar, nursing a warming Heineken and turning over a small piece of cardboard - a postcard she'd purchased upon arrival in Mexico City - in her fingers. She didn't like the picture on the front of it very much, but the blank side was somehow even less satisfying. Eventually she placed it down on the bar and used it as a beermat.

    The tavern was a reasonable approximation of the same sort of dive bar she frequented in the United States or in Europe, complete with an unfashionable and unenthused clientele that occupied every one of its high tables. There was nobody sitting at the bar but her, and on the other side of it a dour and displeased barman who - fortunately, surprisingly - had no inclination towards idle smalltalk. Occasionally, one of the patrons would approach in silence, nod at the custodian in silence, and then wait in silence until he (or she, but usually he) could leave again.

    She lifted her drink from its makeshift mat and observed the ring of condensation that had gathered upon it. The picture on it was of a belltower in a city square. It wasn't the one that she'd been to in the centre of Mexico City, or any that she recognised elsewhere in the country or the world. The face of the clock had no hands and congratulations was printed in gold text in the bottom right corner. She brushed her thumb across the damp ring left behind by her drink, the soft, pastel colours of the photograph running into one another as she did.

    A bell above the door rang, and a moment later Thomas West walked into the bar. He took off his heavy coat, which seemed to be more an amalgamation of pockets than anything else, and placed it on a rack in the corner of the room. He turned to Michelle and flashed her an easy, casual smile. She offered him a passive, dull glare in return.

    "Dos cervezas por favor, mi amigo," he said, whilst taking a seat on one of the empty stools next to Michelle. The podcast host let out an exaggerated smile as the load was taken off his feet. He seemed weary, as if he'd travelled far to get here, but otherwise was in typically jovial spirits considering he'd just lost the FWA World Championship and been humiliated in front of the world. "Dreamer, it's good to see you. You must've made a quick getaway in Rio. Didn't want to celebrate with us Nephews? Worried we might bring the mood down?"

    He let out a chuckle. The beers arrived.

    "You don't seem overly upset," she observed. The former world champion, the more recent former world champion of the two, responded with a shrug.

    "Titles are props," Thomas said, whilst pulling a case of Phantom Cigars from his pocket and placing them on the bar. "Uncle is right about that, at the very least. I was the last ever FWA World Champion, Dreamer. And I've got around three hundred and fifty thousand replica belts left on Westworld. I'm reasonably confident that the real belt is amongst those, anyway."

    "Sounds like you're taking it all in your stride," Michelle said, dully.

    "We can't all tailspin into obsession every time we face a setback," Thomas replied, pointedly. Michelle tried to not let the barb sting. She was a calm sea on a clear day. "We never really did get a chance to talk about that mess between us. Bowling doesn't count. I was too focused on my game. You really pushed me to my limits. At bowling, I mean. Not so much in the ring. But I digress. I guess now that the smoke has cleared a little - with the belt no longer here with me or even in our company, and you having avenged one of your pet obsessions - it might be time."

    "It's not time," Michelle retorted, quickly and maybe a little sharply. The man took a Phantom Cigar from his case and held it between his lips whilst he lit the end of it.

    "There's a lot going on right now, Dreamer," West continued, the tip of his cigar glowing white as he dragged deeply and contently from the other end. "Watkins has made his move. Your Danny stands at his side, and across the tracks from us. And Uncle is there with him, indirectly but undeniably. I think it's important that the Meltdown Branch sticks together. You, Gerald, and I. At least for now."

    Michelle registered no discernable reaction to her counterpart's speech, except for to allow her eyes to flicker towards the discoloured postcard on the bar at the mention of her Danny.

    "It's not me you have to worry about," Michelle said. The herbal odour of West's Phantom Cigar made her dizzy, and she lit a Camel to clear her head. "I'm here now. And I'll be there on Monday. I haven't seen Gerald since New York, though. Haven't spoken to him, either."

    "Because you don't have a phone," West said. "I've spoken to Gerald every day. He always checks in a little after nine. He's fine. Just been chilling, mostly. He's coming here tonight. Two of us recognise that this Meltdown super-group will require at least a little preparation."

    "Supergroups are tenapenny," Michelle replied. "We're the only group that matters."

    "That's the spirit," Thomas answered. "You, Gerald, and I."

    "And the rest of them," Michelle said, uneasily.

    "And the rest of them," the bad guy conceded, with a devious smile. He drained his drink and signalled for another.

    The bell rang before it arrived, heralding the arrival of Gerald Grayson. He looked relaxed. Calm. Michelle couldn't help but feel that he never looked this good after prolonged exposure to her. He already seemed more tired.


    I took a handful of Cheetos and shoved them in my mouth - the feeling never felt so good. I’d been devouring these chips the past few weeks and several bags lay on the floor around my hotel room. The sound of each crunch tempting me to eat more – and that’s exactly what I did. I wiped the residue on the side of my joggers before picking up my PS5 controller.

    The local pizza place, “Galucci’s”, has been on my speed dial as it’s been in my rotation of food. I don’t even have to talk anymore because the owners recognize my number. It was 3pm and I had just woken up. First thing I had to do was listen to the rumblings of my stomach and so I did. I took my phone and dialed the number for Galucci’s.

    “Gino!” I yelled through the phone.

    “Gerald, my man! What can I get ya?” Gino, one of the sons of the owner, asked enthusiastically.

    “The usual meat lover’s, G,” I paused. “Add in some of those buffalo wings while you’re at it,” I continued, nodding my head at my decision.

    “Of course! Coming right up,” Gino said, before hanging up.

    This has been my life for a few weeks now since requesting some time off from FWA. Luckily for me, FWA management cares for their employees’ mental health. With how crazy it gets in the FWA, they were more than willing to grant my request. It pained me that the time I requested off coincided with Back in Business. I haven’t missed a Back in Business show since I signed with FWA, but I just couldn’t do it. I owe it to the fans and to my fellow FWA brethren to get back to 100% before getting back in the ring.

    I didn’t even tell Michelle. She hasn’t called once, so I take that as her knowing my situation. She had to focus on her match against Kennedy at Back in Business anyway. There’s no way I was going to distract her from one of the biggest wins in her career.

    So for the past couple of weeks, my routine is as follows: wake up late, eat whatever junk food is around, and play video games all day or pick from a myriad of streaming services and watch whatever I felt like watching. Much preferable to the X4, all things considered.


    Quiet and Harry were my buds when it came to gaming. We frequently played this game called Destiny 2 where we were pretty much space rangers fighting various alien species. We would stay up for hours and hours playing and it was never boring despite some missions feeling repetitive. Constant space adventures lose their allure after a half-dozen or so incarnations, it seems. Regardless, all of us brought something different to the table. Quiet played as a Warlock, who specializes in space magic and area of effect moves that can destroy hordes of enemies. Harry played as a Titan, specializing in protecting the team with his various shields and abilities to take a ton of damage. I played as a Hunter, the speedster of the group (obviously), specializing in swift, damage dealing abilities that can take out enemies quickly.

    Destiny 2 is a whole different game when playing solo. It’s doable, but it’s not as fun and missions are more difficult. But I didn’t want to bother the Nephews as they all had something going on. If they didn’t, I’m sure they were helping Uncle with something silly and diabolical. I missed them.

    So there I was playing the game as a solo Hunter. I tried to speed through the current mission I was on but fell victim to a series of boulders that would fall from the sky and instantly kill you. I couldn’t remember the path to take to avoid them. Harry was usually the strategist or we’d just hide behind his shield and make it through. I started getting frustrated and was ready to throw my controller against the wall after dying for a fifth consecutive time.

    Suddenly, the doorbell to my hotel room rang. I stood up from the couch and made my way towards the door. Through the eye hole, I saw the pizza guy from Galucci’s. I had left a chair outside and wrote some instructions on a piece of paper, posting it right above the chair. So whenever I ordered takeout, whoever delivers the food just needed to leave the food on the chair since everywhere I order takeout from automatically deducts payment from my card.

    As soon as the pizza guy left, I retrieved the pizza and put it on the counter. I grabbed a plastic plate and took three slices of pizza for myself to eat before going back to the couch. I decided to go on Netflix and hit the “Surprise Me” button. It surprised me with an animated cartoon of the Ninja Turtles.

    “Not a bad surprise,” I said out loud.

    I finished my meat lover’s pizza and started to feel a bit sleepy. I continued watching the Ninja Turtles before I eventually knocked out on the couch.


    I woke myself up from snoring really loud, jerking up to a seated position. I looked around, not sure what I was expecting to find. When I looked at the TV, Netflix was asking me if I was still watching. I pressed yes as more Ninja Turtles started to play.

    I started to feel hungry again but this time, I remembered I had cookies and cream ice cream in the fridge. I immediately grabbed a spoon and retrieved the pint of ice cream from the freezer. I sat at the counter and took a few bites of the ice cream. The pizza I ordered earlier was staring me in the face, prompting me to eat pizza and ice cream simultaneously.

    After a good while, I made it back to the couch to refrain myself from eating more. I closed my eyes, my head falling to the side. I immediately propped myself up, not wanting to fall back asleep. At this point, I began to feel a range of emotions. I tried closing my eyes again to meditate while doing some breathing exercises to calm myself down. When I opened my eyes, I felt better. I let out a sigh, knowing these anxiety attacks have become a little too frequent for my liking.

    To distract myself, I picked up my Playstation controller and began browsing my video game catalog. I’ve been playing a lot of video games and completing them to 100% to gain the trophies. Trophies are achievements of challenges that video game developers put in games to show that you’ve mastered the game. For example, in Destiny 2, there’s a trophy where I needed to defeat 200 opponents within a certain amount of time to get it. Some trophies are harder to get than others, but that’s what makes this fun.

    Getting these virtual trophies made me feel a sense of accomplishment. I know these accomplishments don’t count in real life, but it still made me feel like I wasn’t a total let down. Up to this point, my FWA career hasn’t been what I envisioned it to be, but you already know that. But I’m not the type to quit - and you already know this as well. Despite not hearing from my brother in so long and being as down in the dumps as can be, I still feel the FWA is where I need to be. Nothing can compare to the “high” I feel when I go out there and compete for the fans.


    A little after midnight, Michelle sat with her two 'partners' at the edge of a cliff that looked down upon a small, black, deep lake. Thomas had told them about the spot, reciting a convoluted, spectacular, and dramatic tale about how he'd first happened to find it. That isn't re-told here, for it is just another Nephew adventure, and you've had quite enough of those already. It is sufficient to tell you that they ended up here at the end of their evening, intermittently staring at either the dark surface of the lake below or the patchwork of softly dancing stars above. Nobody had said anything in quite some time, until Gerald punctured the comfortable silence.

    "You're ready for Monday, Thomas?" he asked. Michelle noted that he didn't pose the same question to her. For once, she wasn't the object of his concern. "I can't imagine you're quite over the debacle in Rio, despite your sunny front. But these team matches will be good practice. For your eventual revenge."

    "Revenge?" Thomas asked, with a cocked eyebrow. Michelle struggled to find her lighter, so the podcast host held out his Phantom Cigar for Michelle to ignite her cigarette from the end of it. "Against who? And for what?"

    [B][color=navy]"Danny Toner," Gerald elaborated, almost immediately and with surprise for Thomas' surprise. "And the rest of them. That is the eventual destination. Executive Excellence. Surely you want to be the one to see about their end, after what they did to you."

    "Maybe, eventually," West mused, whilst dragging lazily from his cigar. "But there are other battles for us before that. I feel certain that Uncle will make his move soon enough. He won't be able to resist."

    Gerald didn't seem convinced, of either Uncle's forthcoming malfeasance or of Thomas' readiness for the oncoming battle. Regardless, he turned to face Dreamer instead.

    "And you?" he asked. "I thought you'd be happier. You've been hunting Kennedy for a long time."

    She did nothing except let out a deep sigh. She knew that Gerald would read it as exasperation. Misread it, rather. If there was any exasperation at all, it was in herself. Her disappointment concerned her inability to fill the hollow space in the pit of her stomach. The satisfaction that came with each moment of redemption was fleeting. She had nothing to say to Gerald, and so she only sighed her exasperated sigh.

    Parr, Bell, Kennedy. Each of them were behind her.

    She thought about the Mountain. Her first, and maybe the only one that really mattered. Or perhaps the kaiju was as irrelevant as the rest of them.

    "Michelle?" Gerald said, only partially interrupting her malaise. Her cigarette had burned down to its filter. She flicked the end over the cliff but lost it before it hits the surface.

    "I'm not happy and I'm not sad," she answered.

    Gerald continued to stare at her for a moment, and then he nodded his head. Without a word of explanation, he stood up and pulled his t-shirt over his head. His shoes and jeans followed, leaving a trail of his clothes between their seat and the edge, which he promptly jumped over. No more than a second later, she heard the splash but didn't see it.

    Thomas stood up and replicated Gerald. The splash was louder, but still hidden from view.

    She heard the words she'd said a hundred times about a hundred opponents. When she closed her eyes, she could see the old man in Richmond, leaping from the bridge beneath a pale silver moon. Her grandfather's sundial was covered by shade.

    She remained in position, her eyes closed, picking blades of grass out of the mud.

    Finally, she reached into her rucksack and removed the postcard and a pencil. She glanced at the image once more, the smeared paint now dried into position, before flicking it over onto the blank side. She began to write.


    Enjoy the summer. It will be hot this year.

    I'll see you when the snows come.


  16. #16
    Striving for a B+ in life
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    Re: Meltdown XVII | One Year Anniversary Show | Promo Thread

    "The Rotten Gold" Devin Golden's face is still showing color from the verbal lashing he delivered to Rupert Watkins and Executive Excellence Version 4 during the makeshift, impromptu, amateur-hour press conference after Back in Business. As Golden exited the room -- without his FWA World Heavyweight Championship, which was in the possession of Rupert Watkins and Executive Excellence 10.0 -- all he could think about was how to get it back.

    Of course, right? This comes as no surprise. It's no surprise that Golden and members of the Meltdown roster would punch back at Executive Excellence V17 after everything that happened and was said to close Back in Business.

    But is this to defend the honor of the FWA? Not to Golden. This is because this place is his place, and no matter what Danny Toner or Kayden Knox or Gabrielle Montgomery or Rupert Watkins or anyone else who joins with Executive Excellence 26.0, this story is Devin Golden's story. It's the Devin Golden show. It always has been and always will be. This is his coma dream.

    All of these events are just setting the stage for his big triumph.

    So no, this isn't about defending the FWA's honor. Or if it is, it's only for self-serving glory.

    What this really is about is getting that championship back. Because while Golden is confident this will end with him, the main character, on top -- as all good stories and dreams do -- he's impatient. He doesn't want to wait any longer for the massive payoff. So he's taking matters into his own hands. Whatever his subconscious has laid out for him to emerge victorious in the end, he's doing it his way and will get back what is his.

    Danny Toner is not the rightful FWA World Champion because Thomas West wasn't the rightful FWA World Champion. Because Michelle von Horrowitz wasn't. Because Nova Diamond wasn't.

    The true lineage of the FWA World Championship is still with Devin Golden, and no one has beaten him for the championship -- or any championship -- honorably. Not Nova Diamond, not Chris Peacock, not Saint Sulley. No one.

    The above diatribe are all the thoughts racing through Golden's comatose brain as he wanders the halls of the South American venue, looking for his next purpose.

    Maybe he'll find Lizzie Rose. Maybe he'll go to Jon Russnow. Maybe he'll call for the black Toyota Camry to meet him for another chat with hi subconscious. Maybe he'll go visit The Moderator and ...

    "Devin ..."

    The soft voice speaking to him is immediately recognizable, even if Golden himself hasn't heard it in months. As he looks down the hallway, there stands his "wife", Sierra.

    She found him.

    Let's be real. You're probably bored of this story. I know I am bored of telling it. But, it's all a piece of the puzzle. So, that all being said, let's give the abridged version of the conversation in summary.

    "The Rotten Gold" Devin Golden and his wife, who had been unnamed for a while and is now named Sierra as of a few weeks ago, have their first face-to-face conversation since a little after Meltdown X. That was a really long time ago. So there was some shit to deal with.

    Now, part of the conversation was Sierra trying to convince Golden that he's not dreaming, he's not in a coma, his life in the FWA is real, and the home he had built with Sierra and their child and dog is real.

    "Your daughter misses you so so much. Please come home to us."

    Golden isn't buying it, though. He's sure of it. So after about 15 minutes of this back and forth, Sierra finally gives up.

    And by "gives up," she gives in.

    "Okay, fine, you made me. You made your daughter. You made our family. From your mind. So what? We still love you."

    This is a pretty important fact. Even though Golden created his family from his own mind and his own subconscious, they are expressing real emotions. Or, they're expressing the appearance of real emotions. They seem like real emotions. Can characters in our dreams really love us? Can they really be sad or happy or angry or frustrated? Are those things we can carry with us? Are they sharable with us?

    Golden remembers the untainted joy he felt when Sierra called and told him that she was pregnant. He remembers the fear he felt as the birth date approached. He remembers the mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline when their child was born. He remembers the mixture of emotions -- mostly happy -- as he laid on a couch in the hospital room with his wife and daughter for days.

    Even if all of that happened in a comatose dream in between his fantasy wrestling matches and his fantasy wrestling career, does that all become minimized? Is it not as meaningful?

    I don't know. You tell me. Tell me the importance and weight of fictional art.

    I'll tell you what "The Rotten Gold" thinks as he's hearing this.

    He thinks this hits his heart and soul more than any pleas or pitches that he isn't dreaming. Golden created this, and he cares about what he created. He wants it to be meaningful only for the purpose of supporting him and helping him in the end. And he recognizes the value of his wife, daughter, dog, and family to his story.

    They still somehow hold a place in his heart. Affinity remains.

    "As crazy as ... it may be ... for aaaannnnyyyyone to under...stand ... I still want to be with you. With our daughter. It's just ... crazy to think you're not real ... yet I care ... for you."

    That's family, I suppose. Well, it's a weird version of family. It's a made-up, make-believe, subconsciously crafted version of family. It's sort of a controlled-environment version. It doesn't have the twists and turns like in the real world. This is all written out and planned and crafted, either consciously or subconsciously. This is all part of a larger story.

    But it's still family, and Golden loved his family before he learned what he now knows. So, with his family asking for him to come back and not leave them to fend for themselves in a world they didn't ask to be in, Golden's decision is easy.

    That's why, when Sierra says, "I have some people who want to talk with you," Golden obliges. He obliges because this is still his wife, even if it's only his wife here and not anywhere else. Even if it's only his wife for a finite amount of time -- until the lights finally go out and the plug gets pulled back in that psych ward in New Orleans.

    Hey, why hasn't the plug been pulled yet?

    We're getting to it. Sorry. This was supposed to be an abridged version of the story. Anyways, hopefully you're not asleep -- like Golden is, amirite?

    Wild Jerry, Frank, and PacMan Bert sit around a circular wooden table with their elbows resting in their laps. They're nearly shoulder to shoulder inside this hotel room. It's the eve of Meltdown XVII, which just so happens to be the one-year anniversary of Meltdown. "Chainsaw Man" has not been read. There's nothing to be done about that.

    "The Rotten Gold" sits across from this trio of secondary characters who ran with the hokey-pokey short-lived FWA wrestler Sauce Man. He never made it far. He only won one match. Rest your soul, Josh Drake. God speed.

    Golden always assumed people like Sauce Man and "The Werewolf" Marcus Symulevich and other short-timers in the FWA were manifestations of something from the real world. For example, Golden likes sauce. He particularly likes bar-be-cue sauce and buffalo sauce. Chipotle sauce is also good. He doesn't particularly hold a soft spot for werewolves, but they're not bad by any means. Shrugs.

    "The Rotten Gold" doesn't give much thought to the creation and disappearance of these people, but now he's at least thinking about Sauce Man because his three friends are sitting across the table.

    Sauce Man.

    What an odd name. What an odd person. What a strange presentation.

    "I don't knooooow ... if I can really do that ... right now ... guyyyyys. I have this ... match ... on Meltdown. Gotta really ... shooooow out. There are two ... former champions of the ... illegitimate lineage.

    And Gerald ... Grayson. Him, tooooo."

    "Aye, gringo, I know you gonna face Broc and Sulley and Jason Randall. You do your thing, amigo, and we'll circle back."

    Golden gives Wild Jerry a sideways glance.

    "No, it's Micheeeellle and Thooooma..."

    "Don't mind him. He always told Sauce Man the wrong opponent. I remember one time he had Sauce Man follow Quiet through his murders only to find out Sauce was facing Harry the Wizard kid. Big ordeal."

    Frank's explanation gets a chuckle from PacMan Bert, who is for one of the rare times not playing his handheld PacMan video game. Wild Jerry grows frustrated at once more getting the opponents wrong.

    "You all ... want me to ... fiiiiiiiind this Sauce Mannnn. How?"

    "Well ... I think ... I ..."

    Frank is struggling to find the words. He looks to PacMan Bert.

    "Excuse my english. German is better.

    You sleep here, you wake there. Sometimes. We think ... you sleep here, wake there, maybe Sauce Man wake there, too. You might find."

    "I allllllllways assumed ... I made ... Sauce Man. I assumed I made ... allllll of this."

    "You know now ... that not true. You learn now. You not the only one in place. We ... all us ... we fake. You real. Sauce real. Others real."

    "Yeah ... I know now."

    Golden looks to his wife for answers. She sort of gives an inviting expression with a smile. It's a warm, comforting smile. "The Rotten Gold" has been comforted by this smile for seven years, since he first met Sierra.

    The four-time World Champion and Hall of Famer nods his head.

    "Okay. Let me do ... this match. I don't want to ... miss it. I go to sleep and wake up there, who knooooows how long ... it'll be. If I miss this, I might not look ... gooooood.

    Then ... I'll do whaaaat ... you want.

    But I have ... to ... reeeeturn.

    The focus ... neeeeeeeeeeds to be ... Executive Excellence ... version two hundred and fifth-nine. And getting back ...




    Golden pauses. The whole group nods. He looks to Sierra, who also nods.

    "Okay. Oooookay.

    About time ... I went baaaaaaaaaack ... to there ... anyways.

    I juuuuust ... don't ... know how to get ... there ... when I sleeeeeep."

    Wild Jerry interjects. Frank and PacMan Bert both turn to him with knowing faces and smirks. Sierra also has a smirk, which she offers to Golden before head-nodding back to Wild Jerry as if to silently say, "Listen to him."

    "I think we may know how, yo. Might hurt a little, gringo. But, it should work."

    3x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    1x FWA World Champion
    2x FWA X Champion
    7x FWA Tag Team Champion

    2020 North American Sports Poster Of The Year

  17. #17
    Feline Phenomenon

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    Re: Meltdown XVII | One Year Anniversary Show | Promo Thread

    Color Code
    Sawyer Xavier ~ Green
    AJ King ~ Pink
    George E. Brilliant ~ Blue

    The sweet melody of Como La Flor by Serena Y Los Dinos vibrated in the background as we show a scene of a mix between a family gathering and a house party. Though, the true action is on the front porch as Sawyer Xavier sits in a cedar wood rocking chair, drinking a corona beer as he stared into the starry, hot distance. The sounds of insects rang out as Sawyer sat with a slight beard, looking dead in his eyes. The song got louder as the front door opened, before it was shut. In the frame was now AJ King, who sat down in a chair beside Sawyer.

    Words weren't exchanged as King looked at Sawyer's depressed stance, with Sawyer taking another swig of the beer. He put the quarter-full bottle of beer on a small table between the pair and sighed. The melody soon faded from both men's hearing as Sawyer opened his mouth.

    "Thanks for letting me stay for a bit. I just needed somewhere to be for a few days."

    "No problemo man. You helped me and Zip out, so I got your back. You hadn't responded to our calls in a few days, so we were worried."

    "Yeah, that's my fault. Left my charger with George and just, kinda been alone for a while."

    Sawyer laughed a bit, with AJ nodding in an uncomfortable silence.

    "Sorry for coming during a ... party. Meltdown's in the area, and I'm low on money at the moment."

    "Like I said, it's fine. Surprised you're even on Meltdown, didn't you skip Back in Business?"
    "Yeah, long story. Just, I don't know how to explain it without sounding like a douche. Guess I just didn't feel like it, I dunno."

    "I feel you, I do. But while me and Zip have been working on our own, you've been wasting your chances."

    "Not right now, cmon."

    "You need to hear this though. This is coming from my heart. You have been given chance after chance to be big, but you throw it away by wasting everything!"

    Sawyer groaned, before standing up. AJ sighed and tried to speak but Sawyer grabbed the beer and walked into the open field. Sawyer took another drink, finishing the beer before crouching down.

    "I understand you care. But, I dunno. I guess I don't feel like showing up."

    "Then start feeling like it. You are one of my best friends, and I wanna see you live your dream. That's why me and Zip still are with you to the end. Because you can succeed, you're just choosing not to."

    Sawyer took a bit to respond, standing up and dropping the beer bottle in a trash can as he walked by.

    "You gotta spare phone charger?"

    "Yeah, when you go in, first room in the hallway to the left."

    Sawyer nodded and entered the house, his thoughts drowning out the music in the background, turning the melodies into incomprehensible
    gibberish. His anger, all of his feelings pushed out the soothing sound of music as he entered the vacant room, looking for the charger. He shut the door behind him as he plugged his phone up, before sitting on the bed that the charger was nearby. He held his head in his hands, muttering nonsense to himself. After about 8 minutes of sitting in silence, he picked his phone off the charger, frowning at the 17%.

    He opened it up, looking at the 9+ phone call notification. He opened them up and looked at the red text that read "George E. Brilliant." Sawyer raised his hand up, hesitating to press on his phone. But after 20 or so seconds of hesitation, he touched the screen.





    The voice of George radiated over the phones speaker, as Sawyer just sat there tensed.

    "Yeah, It's me."

    "Where the hell have you been? I haven't heard from you in weeks? You ditched me in Rio and I had to bail your ass out!"

    "Look, I'm sorry. I just couldn't ... go."

    "Couldn't go? Couldn't go, that's all you got?! You're damn lucky you weren't fired on the spot for skipping out on one of the biggest nights of your career. I had to listen to that damn post-show conference and pray you still had a job. And since you do, you better be damn sorry about it."

    "I get your pissed. But I'll be at Meltdown."

    "Sure you will. You've said you'll put 100% into everything since we partnered up. And I like ya kid, but you're on a downwards slope. First you get into the longest damn losing streak I've had the dishonor to watch and now you skip the biggest event of the year. I can't trust you right now. And I want to trust you, but you're a wildcard at the moment. If you don't show up, you can consider yourself as good as gone."

    "Real good motivator, ain't ya? Have you once considered maybe I need some time away from this business. I know you've done it, I just need some me time!"

    "I know you need your solitude. But when it comes to a JOB, you gotta pull your head out of your ass and get it done. I know you are going through shit, but that doesn't give you a damn excuse to ditch me and get both of us in trouble."

    "Can we just, cool down for a bit? We're both heated, let's just breath."

    "I get your side. I really do, but you can't just go off the grid for days and not tell me. I was worried sick man."

    "And I really do apologize. Just, I just need a chance to talk."

    "Well, before we talk, we need to talk business. You got a dangerous man named Jason Randall after you, and you're wasting your time doing God knows what."

    "I'm being safe."

    "For now. You got a man famous for being brutal waiting to fight you. Combined with him being fueled by anger to win AND X-Rules, you have a damn beast to fight."

    Sawyer rolled his hand down his face, before holding the phone back to his ear.

    "Well, isn't this where you give me advice?"

    "Frankly, Sawyer, you're being an asshole right now. I'm here to help you, but right now you need to fight this battle yourself. I'll be at the arena in the morning if you wanna talk there, but right now you gotta decide how you wanna fight Jason. This could be your last chance before they burn your contract to the ground."

    "I understand ... I'll get with you then."

    Sawyer hung up the phone, leaning back on the mattress as he stared into the rotating ceiling fan above. It's synchronized spins were almost hypnotic as he stared straight up, his eyes telling a thousand stories.

    "They're right. I should've showed up."

    Sawyer sat up, thinking about the past weeks, which delved into months, which delved into years. Every time he's made progress, he's set himself back 3 miles. His eyes soon had a blink of light, as he began to nod.

    "I am a wildcard, huh? Ya know, when you fight a wildcard, you gotta be a wildcard. Heh, cheesy."

    Sawyer smirked, standing up and replugging in his phone. He left the room, slowly hearing the music play as his thoughts began to be overtaken by some serenity. He went back outside, seeing AJ King still sitting outside. He smiled a bit and sat down beside him.

    "Do you mind if we talk about my match? We can talk about your stuff after, but I need a clear head when I talk to George in the morning."

    "Yeah, no problem. Just tryna see ya get well, yknow what I mean? It's been sad seeing your slope. So, who's ass ya gotta kick?"

    "Jason Randall."

    "Jason Randall!? Man, you are so lucky. Or, fucked. Depends on your outlook. Dude's an X-Division Legend."

    "That's the issue. X-Rules yknow. First time in one, however I'm not a stranger to hardcore. I'm fucking Sawyer Xavier."

    "That's the spirit. Say, what completely changed your mood? You were like, depressed as fuck 30 minutes ago and now your like, pumped and all."

    "Tough love, ehh. But, yknow. I've waged wars with Uncle, Reagan Cole, I'm used to the high-risk lifestyle. Jason Randall left for a while and is in the same position as me. We're basically equals. The one thing that separates us though is that unlike him, I'm young. And that youth goes a long way when you're kicking each other's asses with weapons. But he's an old man. I'm sure a few chair shots should warrant a few days of sitting on a couch."

    "Ehh, too cocky? I mean, you've seemed to piss people off. I'm sure someone hired to hurt ya won't go down with a few chair shots to the back."

    "Shit, you're right. I guess it won't hurt to risk it all. Besides, where's the fun being grounded. Once I take care of Randall, the shitheads at the top of Meltdown will have to start looking at me. They can't avoid the hottest commodity of course."

    The two shared laughter, before AJ pulled out another beer.

    "Another one?"

    "No thanks. I think the ... three I've drank today is enough. George'll hurt me more if I arrive hungover."

    "Fair enough. Say, when the party dies down, you can crash on the couch if ya want. Remember, mi casa es tu casa."

    "Noted. Say, when I come here stained in Jason's blood, save me a cold one will ya?"


    The pair laughed again and they continued up a convo that was drowned out by Cielto Lindo playing over it, before the promo faded to black.

  18. #18
    Sun Tuh-Zoo
    Spider-Man's Avatar

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    Fallout Fallout: Rebirth | RESULTS

    … presents …

    Date: Friday 22nd July, 2022.
    Venue: Roughs Tower, the Principality of Sealand.

    “There’s a lotta people with a lotta questions.”

    We see shots of the shocked crowd in Rio de Janeiro. There is no sound audible but their reactions make it clear that the footage is from the climax to Night 2.

    “Unfortunately for them… that ain’t really MY problem. That ain’t jack to do with me.”

    Cut to a still image of the former and final FWA World Champion Thomas West lying eagle spread in the middle of the ring having received three finishers.

    “See the thing is; we’re ALL playing a game. Against our enemies. Against our friends. Against each other. Against ourselves.”

    The video suddenly quickly flickers between snippets of various matches; Gang Stars and Golden Rock at Fight Night: NOLA, Thomas West and Michelle von Horowitz at The Grand March, Ryan Rondo and Danny Toner on Fallout 002, and finally Nova Diamond rushing out with his briefcase on Meltdown XIII - though the Meltdown branding is blurred.

    “Hide it under whatever freakin’ facade you want, the fact of the matter remains… we all take our seat at the table. We all sit down to play the game. And when we do?”

    Complete darkness.

    “It doesn’t even fucking matter who is on the other side of that table. We all play to win. Think about it. When you’re about to dance - you don’t even look up. It’s kill or be killed. Whoever wants it more - whoever NEEDS it more, survives. Who is on the opposite side doesn’t matter a freakin’ damn at that point. It can’t.”

    Flickers of lights being to filter through the pitch black screen.

    “Until it does. UNTIL IT HAS TO!”

    An empty wrestling ring in an empty arena.

    “Ya see you’ve got to ask yourself: what freakin’ happens when you finally get your fuckin’ head out of your ass and stop pretendin’ you’re in cuckoo land?”

    Devin Golden sending Danny Toner from atop a ladder at Back In Business Night 1 a year ago.

    “What happens when you run out of West Coast rinky-dink, bush league promotions to hide out in?”

    Alyster Black looking around at the fanatic supporters in The Warehouse before curbstomping Danny into the mat.

    “What happens when you look up across the table and see the guy you’re trying to beat… ain’t even there.”

    A rapid montage of Black and Golden’s feud with each other, a particularly grisly focus on all aspects of the mutilations. Cut to a black sedan slowly pulling into an empty parking lot.

    “This is a message to the wrestling world at large; Send your company legend! Send the fuckin’ outlaw to collect his bounty! Send everything you fuckin’ got! It doesn’t matter one iota…”

    The car comes to a halt. A door opens.

    “Because in the end… They CAN’T win. They CAN’T beat me.”

    A flash of two gold belts. A flawless, sparkling white smile.

    “I ain’t even playin’ the same freakin’ game.”

    — — — — —

    The camera skips over the surface of the water, seemingly endless blue all that we can see for a few moments as the North Sea stretches out in front of us. A hot yellow sun bleeds into the evening sky. Alongside Kavinsky's Nightcall, which continues to play over the footage, the rotating blades and the thudding engine of the helicopter that carries our camera can be heard. The airborne vehicle begins to bear to the right, the sun floating out of view and, quite suddenly despite the steady and deliberate movements of the helicopter, a series of structures come into view. The most central amongst them are the two large central platforms of an oil rig, and against the purplish-blue sky we can see the silhouette of a wrestling ring, a woman standing in the middle of it with a microphone in her hand.

    We begin to gain altitude, the steady tracking shot ongoing as the two main platforms are brought into focus. One is higher above sea level than the other, a pair of large mechanical, cage-like elevators the only way to traverse between them. On this second, higher platform are a small number of comfortable, leather seats, each of which is occupied by a lounging 'fan': a handpicked acquaintance of Rupert Watkins, each and every one of them. Walking amongst the assembled audience, which numbers just over a hundred, are a large number of security guards, each of which wears a midnight blue uniform with the Fallout logo emblazoned on their chest. As the camera pans around to face the ring again, we see more of these men and women standing at attention around the ring.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Wrestling fans, welcome to a moment in history! Welcome to Fallout: Rebirth !"

    As J-L utters his opening proclamation, a display of pyrotechnics are set off from each platform: rockets in gold and silver and midnight blue exploding high overhead as we enter a hovering pattern above Roughs Tower.

    Allen Price: "It's out with the old and in with the new for Fallout, which tonight brings you its very first episode as a standalone brand. Say what you will, but you can't stand in the way of the wheels of progress: Fallout: Rebirth is here, and the world watches with intrigue as this new chapter in professional wrestling begins."

    We see much of the standard Fallout staging area on the larger and taller of the two main platforms. It is erected in one corner and consists of the barbed wire and mesh fencing backdrop, Danny Toner's mangled Delorean lodged amongst this debris. A curtain is set up beneath a large screen, and as we continue to track around this platform we see that another much larger temporary installation is housed down below. A stacked container ship that looks like a large floating warehouse is connected to this temporary platform by a series of ladders and elevators, the evening's backstage area aboard this vessel.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "And to herald in this new era we have not one but TWO championship matches here on Rebirth, one of which takes place in our main event. Men Out Of Time are the very first Fallout World's Tag Team Champions, and tonight we'll see them defend those brand new championships here on Roughs Tower. Their opponents are none other than Gabrielle and Kayden Knox, two of the supposed members of what is being called a reformed Executive Excellence…"

    Our vantage point ascends further still, the camera at first facing the ring and then sweeping around to show a team of red arrow airplanes whiz through the evening's sky, plumes of gold and midnight blue smoke billowing behind them. A final burst of pyro lights up the ring as we finally leave this tracking shot, finding ourselves in a more static position with a lens pointed at the two men behind the commentary booth. This desk, along with the timekeeper's area and a perch for the ring announcer, are the only other objects strewn around the main platform.

    Allen Price: "The third man in that trifectum, of course, being Danny Toner, who we'll also hear from tonight following the quite shocking events in the aftermath of his championship triumph. He now holds what Rupert Watkins has called the Fallout Undisputed World's Championship, and elaboration on Toner with regards to his new, strange alliance with Rupert Watkins is long overdue…"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Strange?! I'd prefer the term 'beneficial', much more accurate! Danny Toner unites with Rupert Watkins and, after one night, he is the champion of the world! Everything that Toner ever wanted…"

    Allen Price: "But at what price, J-L?!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "We could sit here and discuss that all night, Price… but we won't, because the section's about to get going with our opening contest, which just so happens to be for the honour of becoming the inagural Fallout Television Champion. The wait is now over, wrestling fans, and the future is now!"

    The scene then shifts to the centre of the ring, where Natalie Rosenberg is stood, with the referee in the middle of the ring holding the brand spanking new Fallout Television Championship in his arms, and he raises it up into the air.

    Natalie Rosenberg: “The following contest is a Six Pack Challenge, to crown the first ever Fallout Television Championship! Six competitors will begin the match, and eliminations will occur through pin falls, submission or disqualification until only one competitor remains… and they will become the Fallout Television Champion!"

    ‘New Adventure’ | CFO$

    With her telescope and cutlass holstered around her waist, Yuna Funanori makes her entrance, and she seems very at ease with the location of the show, the seven seas being much like a second home for her.

    Natalie Rosenberg: “Introducing first, from Tokyo, Japan by way of the Isle of Tortuga… ‘The Last Great Adventurer’... YUNA FUUUUUUUNAAAAAANOOOOOOORRRRIIIII!!!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “How fitting that the first competitor to make their way out for action in this new era of Fallout has an entrance theme named ‘New Adventure’? Yuna Funanori, along with the crew of the Friendship, have found their home here on Fallout and like all pirates, there is nothing more that Yuna wants than some gold!"

    Allen Price: “Yuna Funanori was the first person ever to hold the competition’s Gauntlet Championship, which she won in a match not too dissimilar to this one, Jean-Luc. She has the experience required to excel in a match like this.”

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “A dangerous competitor is Captain Yuna. If there is anyone that is comfortable being out here in the North Sea, it has got to be her, right?”

    Yuna enters the ring and then scans the area with her telescope, she takes out her sword and raises it high into the air, and some neon blue fireworks shoot out from the platform into the sky. In the far distance, the outline of The Friendship can be seen, and it fires from its cannons in celebration.

    ‘Vacuity’ | Gojira

    The heavy rock kicks in and there is a good applause from the ‘fans’ as Phillip A. Jackson walks out from the back, ready for action. He removes his red and gold jacket as he reaches the bottom of the ramp and throws it away for a ringside crew member to pick up.

    Natalie Rosenberg: “Next, from Bristol, England but currently residing in Toronto, Canada… weighing in at two-hundred and thirty-five pounds… ‘The Immortal’ PHILLIP A. JAAAAAACCCKSSSONNNN!!!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “If there is anyone in this match that has the experience edge over everyone else, you need look no further than Phillip A. Jackson. A multiple-time former World Champion and someone who winning championships just comes naturally to."

    Allen Price: “Signing on PAJ is a big get for Fallout. He brings the experience that you’ve talked about, J-L, but on top of that, this is someone that we know can achieve big things here and help us to establish ourselves as the number one destination for professional wrestling on the planet."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “With some of the more… different… characters that we are expecting to see in this match, Phillip A. Jackson can cut through all of the antics and focus on getting the job done. A trait of his most recent opponent in Nova Diamond, as you are fully aware of, Price."

    Jackson gets into the ring, and Yuna has to be held back from the veteran, wanting to get things started as soon as possible and not wait for the remaining four competitors in the match to make their own entrances.

    ‘Bow Down’ | I Prevail

    The reception from the upper-class and privileged guests in attendance is one of revulsion as Jackson Fenix struts his way out onto the stage. As usual, Fenix’s attention is to his own genitalia and he motions towards it several times on his way to the ring.

    Natalie Rosenberg: “Next… representing the Undisputed Alliance… from Los Angeles, California and weighing in at two-hundred and ten pounds… ‘The Sin City Bad Boy’ JAAAACKKSONNN FEEEEEENNNNIXXXXXXXXX!!!"

    Allen Price: “These are some of those antics that you were talking about, Jean-Luc? I don’t think your dad’s friends like Jackson Fenix too much, pal."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Well, I’d be lying if I said I did. On his own tonight, though, is Jackson Fenix. ‘Nasty’ Nate Savage will be elsewhere within the bowels of Roughs Tower, I am sure, but tonight it is all about Fenix as he looks to capture his first ever singles championship."

    Allen Price: “Well, there might be times where competitors in the match need to team up, and someone with the tag team experience of Jackson Fenix could be beneficial in a situation like that. Although, it would be unwise to trust him though because he has shown time and time again that he is more than willing to stab a friend or partner in the back."

    PAJ is also largely unimpressed with Fenix as he gets into the ring, choosing to look elsewhere. However, Fenix’s attention is on the female Yuna, who points to his crotch with her sword, which makes him back off and wait in the opposite corner from her. As the next music begins to play, Fenix’s worry levels increase even further.

    ‘Army of the Night’ | POWERWOLF

    The night’s sky provides the perfect backdrop for the entrance of Konchu Hao, as the lights on Roughs Tower are dimmed for his entrance, save for several strobes that flicker around the platform. Hao walks out with Epsilon by his side, and he marches towards the ring and the challenge waiting for him inside. The camera catches a loud “KEHAHAHAHAHAHA!” as ‘The Mad Wizard’ brushes past it.

    Natalie Rosenberg: “Next, accompanied by Epsilon… weighing in at two-hundred and fifteen pounds… ‘The Mad Wizard’ KONCHU HAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOO!!!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “You can see that Jackson Fenix is nervous, Price, and for very good reason. Not only has he been bested by Konchu Hao on more than one occasion in the past, but he and Nate Savage were responsible for putting Epsilon out of commission for some time and if a mad wizard isn’t the kind to hold a grudge, who is?"

    Allen Price: “I am sure that if Konchu were to win tonight, he would be dedicating it to Epsilon. The two of them were unsuccessful in becoming the FW-Fallout World Tag Team Champions recently against the Men Out of Time, and tonight is the perfect time for the Konchu camp to bounce back."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “It would have been them facing Bad Reputation tonight were they victorious, but like Price said, Konchu has the chance for singles glory instead."

    Epsilon runs up the steps ahead of Konchu, so he can scamper across the apron and hold the ropes open for Konchu, who steps through. Konchu cackles loudly once more in the middle of the ring before taking a spot in the last remaining corner.

    ‘Cola’ | Lana Del Rey

    Another platform within the platforms rises upwards from the stage area under the screen and Shawn Summers emerges into the light as golden pyrotechnics shower down behind him. He slowly descends from the platform and walks towards the ring, focused on those waiting for him inside.

    Natalie Rosenberg: “Next… from Laguna Beach, California and weighing in at two-hundred and twenty-five pounds… ‘Der Bastard’ SHAAAWWWNNNNN SUMMMMMMERRRRRRSSSS!!!"

    Allen Price: “I’m so happy that this music is back, Jean-Luc. You know, I know that it is easy to hate Shawn Summers, but behind all of that, you’ve got to respect the fact that he is a very adept wrestler."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “So much so that even someone with your level of understanding of all of this can recognise Price. I will not disagree with you. Shawn Summers has all of the makings of a champion, and can tonight be the night where he finally achieves what he has set out to do for months and hold gold in his hands?"

    Allen Price: “He would be my pick, Jean-Luc… but you’ve got to remember who the last person competing in this match is…"

    Summers gets into the ring and ignores the negativity surrounding him from his fellow participants in this Six Pack Challenge, he removes his jacket and drapes it over the top rope and scans the sea as he waits for the match to begin.

    ‘Dude Shack’ | Jim Johnston

    Everyone waiting in the ring seems to be confused, as this is not the music that they were expecting, although it is not completely unfamiliar. Their confusion only increases when the figure emerges from the back, throwing out some absolutely terrible dance moves.

    Allen Price: “What is this?"

    Seven feet tall, over four hundred pounds and wearing a very evident wig and fake moustache, The Boulder shows off his lack of athleticism with some painful hip thrusts and a pathetic attempt at a moonwalk towards the ring.

    Natalie Rosenberg: “And finally… from New York City… weighing in at two-hundred and ten pounds… ‘The Boogie Man’ CHRISSSS PEEEAAAACCCCOOOCCCKKKKK!!!"

    Allen Price: “WHAT?! THAT’S NOT CHRIS PEACOCK! He’s not here… I know he’s not here. That’s the Boul-"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “A throwback tonight from Chris Peacock! After continually failing to meet his objectives in all professional and personal ventures, it seems that this absolute failure of a wrestler is taking things back to basics here on Fallout: Rebirth! Look at those killer dance moves, Price!"

    Allen Price: “We’re really doing this? After what he did for this show? You’re unbelievable, Jean-Luc. Yeah, screw it. Here’s my best friend, Chris Peacock."

    ‘Peacock’ dances around the ring and walks towards the commentary table, where he attempts to shake hands with Price, who ignores the impersonator. ‘Peacock’ gets into the middle of the ring and begins dancing before the music fades out.

    for the Fallout Television Championship.
    Shawn Summers vs. Jackson Fenix vs. Konchu Hao vs. Yuna Funanori vs. Phillip A. Jackson vs. ‘Chris Peacock’.
    Six-Pack Challenge.
    Match Writer: Man
    The other five competitors in the match seem extremely unimpressed with the specimen that is in front of them that has dressed himself up as Chris Peacock. ‘Peacock’ gyrates as the bell rings, the much larger man wanting to give off as much as the real Chris Peacock’s sexual magnetism as he can muster, but he finds this extremely ineffective. Out of all of the competitors, it is Yuna Funanori that makes the first move and she walks up to ‘Peacock’ with a disappointed look on her face.

    Allen Price: “So, Yuna has helped this gentleman out with some previous identity issues that he has experienced, but I think this could be the worst case of it so far, Jean-Luc."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “You’re right. Is he ‘Disco’s Last Warrior’? Is he ‘The Boogie Man’? Peacock really can’t keep it together it would seem, Price. I didn’t know Yuna had assisted him in the past, I suppose I do not have my finger in as many pies as I initially presumed…"

    Yuna scolds ‘Peacock’, her frustration at this situation clear, but before she can do or say anything of note, Shawn Summers rushes across the ring and knocks Yuna to the mat! Summers lays into Yuna with a couple of stomps for good measure to keep her down and he uses his boot to force her under the bottom rope and to the outside of the ring. ‘Der Bastard’ turns around though… into a goozle from ‘Chris Peacock’!

    It seems that Yuna’s support and kindness towards ‘Peacock’ is being repaid as ‘Peacock’ shoves Summers into the corner whilst retaining the grip around his throat. Before Summers can be taken for a ride with a Chokeslam out of the corner, Phillip A. Jackson comes to Summers’s aid and delivers a stomp to the back of ‘Peacock’s knee, which causes him to kneel down. The grip around Shawn’s throat loosens, and there is a shared nod between Summers and Jackson, and the two of them get to work in taking the much larger man down.

    Watching the entire ordeal in that corner was the remaining two men in the match; Jackson Fenix and Konchu Hao. Fenix picks up Konchu’s investment in what is happening in the corner, and sees this as a good opportunity to sneak attack his longtime rival, and Fenix attempts to hit Konchu with a SUPERKICK ME BABY ONE MORE TIME - BUT KONCHU CATCHES HIS BOOT!

    Allen Price: “Not a good place to be if you are Jackson Fenix right now!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Excellent awareness there from Hao; he knows a lot about The Undisputed Alliance, what they’re capable of and the lengths that they will go to. He would have known that Superkick was coming, and he was ready to catch it. Now though, Konchu drops Fenix’s leg down and he connects with a Roaring Elbow to take Fenix down!"

    With Fenix temporarily taken care of, Konchu steps over his prone body and grabs Shawn Summers from behind, raises him up and plants him with a Backdrop Driver! Summers holds the back of his head on the mat as Konchu completes his rescue of ‘Peacock’ by plucking Jackson off of him as well… and Hao cracks him in the face with a very stiff forearm, which fells Jackson.

    Now Konchu approaches ‘Peacock’, who is not in a good way after getting mauled by the combined might of Jackson and Summers. It seems that Hao could be friendly, but ‘Peacock’ seems not to want to find out and he grabs Konchu by the throat! ‘Peacock’ rises to his feet with Konchu in his grip and Epsilon is seen looking concerned at ringside for his master. Konchu does his best to resist, but ‘Peacock’ takes Konchu up for a Chokeslam… but Konchu lands on his feet and breaks the grip. Konchu grabs ‘Peacock’ by the wrist and sets him up…

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “RASPUTIN’S REVENGE!! Konchu just laid Chris Peacock out with that move, and we could be seeing the first elimination here! There’s Yuna on the top rope!"

    Yuna is indeed perched on the top turnbuckle in the corner, and she has a much meaner look on her face than she did when she showed compassion to ‘Peacock’ at the beginning of the match. Yuna steadies herself and takes flight… AND SHE LANDS A DAVY JONES ELBOW DROP RIGHT ONTO ‘PEACOCK’S CHEST!! Yuna attempts to pull one of ‘Peacock’s legs up for the pin, but she’s shoved off of him by Phillip A. Jackson… and he manages to pull the leg up!

    ONE… TWO… THREE!!!

    Eliminated: ‘Chris Peacock’ by Phillip A. Jackson at 3:18

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Wow, a real shocker there, wrestling fans! Who would have thought that Chris Peacock would be the first one eliminated in this match? Great work there by Jackson to get what could be an important elimination."

    Allen Price: “THAT’S NOT CHRIS PEACOCK! Peacock… he… he would win this match! And Jackson? What about Konchu and Yuna? They did all of the hard work!"

    Whether or not it is the real Peacock or not, ‘Peacock’ is sent from the ring by the official and the large lug flops onto the floor. The remaining five competitors all look at each other; in the middle of the ring is a very pleased Phillip A. Jackson, who rises to his feet in the middle of the ring with his arms outstretched, to signify his importance and dominance. His elation seems like it could be shortlived, though, as he then clocks his four opponents standing in each of the corners, surrounding him. The smile fades from Jackson’s face and he goads them to come and face him, but as Konchu Hao looks to be about to take him up on his offer, JACKSON FENIX CONNECTS WITH A SUPERKICK TO ‘THE MAD WIZARD’!

    It is a case of the second time being the charm for Fenix, as this time an unaware Konchu walks straight into his Superkick Me Baby One More Time. Konchu rolls under the bottom rope, and Fenix dips out to follow up on his rival. This leaves just Yuna and Summers in the ring with Jackson. They share a look and take a step closer to Jackson in the middle of the ring, seemingly united… but Summers then grabs Yuna from behind and holds her arms behind her back!

    Summers and Jackson share a look, and Jackson measures up a strike to the exposed midsection of ‘The Last Great Adventurer’, but Yuna brings her legs up and she kicks Jackson in the chest to knock him back. She then jumps up and uses the momentum to pull herself forward, freeing her arms and she rolls through, and ends up on top of Summers in a pin!

    ONE… TWO… THR-NO!!

    Powering out of the pin, Summers seems shocked that Yuna almost caught him out there, but he has more pressing things to attend to as Yuna leaps into the air and connects with a Leg Drop across Shawn’s chest. Jackson is now back on the scene though, and he attempts to hook her up for a suplex, but Yuna slides down when she is lifted up into the air and she manages to shove Jackson forward into the turnbuckles. Jackson then eats a knee to the face from Yuna in the corner, and she Snapmares him out of it.

    Both Summers and Jackson are seated next to each other in the middle of the ring following that. Yuna is already on the top rope, and she soars through the air… flattening them down with a Diving Cross Body from the top rope!

    Allen Price: “Look at Yuna go! What she lacks in size and power, she makes up for with her speed, agility and quickness."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Those all mean the same thing, Price."

    Allen Price: “Okay then, how about the fact that she’s insane and would literally kill any of her opponents if the opportunity presented itself? Is that enough of an antonym for you?"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “That is not what an antonym is."

    Lexicology debates between the commentators will need to wait, as Price and Watkins find their view of the action inside of the ring obscured by what is happening in front of them on the outside. Jackson Fenix has done well to stay on top of Konchu Hao on the outside since he took ‘The Mad Wizard’ down with that opportunistic Superkick, using the ringside environment to his advantage at every turn. Now, he slams Konchu’s head down onto the surface of the announce table!
    Fenix then reaches over the table and grabs one of the wires, wrapping it around Konchu’s neck in an attempt to choke him. Smartly, Fenix uses his body to hide what is happening from the referee as Konchu attempts to break the grip. However, the wire that Fenix selected was attached to Allen Price’s headset, and the commentator being pulled out of his seat is enough to alert the referee to what is going on, and Fenix subsequently gets warned not to use the wire in such a manner again or risk facing disqualification from the match.

    Despite being frustrated, Fenix releases Konchu and then goes for another Superkick, but Konchu ducks this one and he scoops Jackson up into the air… but Fenix flips backwards and lands on his feet and he shoves Konchu forward… and Hao has to put on the brakes to stop himself careening into Epsilon who was standing nearby! Konchu holds his hands out and stops himself, reassuring his minion that there is nothing to worry about before turning around into ANOTHER SUPERKICK ME BABY ONE MORE TIME!!

    Allen Price: “As we’ve seen in the past, Jackson Fenix has no qualms over hurting poor little Epsilon as a means of causing distress to Konchu Hao, but that time it was almost Konchu himself that wiped Epsilon out!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Konchu literally did go to war over Epsilon, so I’m not surprised that he was being apologetic to his staunch ally, but it ended up costing him as he takes a second Superkick from Fenix. In the ring though, Yuna Funanori is doing well to control the ring and keep both Shawn Summers and Phillip A. Jackson at bay."

    Attention shifts back to the ring as Yuna Funanori delivers a running elbow strike to Shawn Summers, with ‘Der Bastard’ slumped against the bottom turnbuckle. In the opposite corner, Jackson is in the same position and once Yuna straightens herself up, she charges across the ring and delivers a mirroring elbow to Jackson! Yuna rises to her feet and salutes those watching the match… BUT SHE TOO TURNS AROUND INTO A SUPERKICK FROM JACKSON FENIX!!

    Fenix is like a child playing a video game with how much he is spamming these Superkicks, but they are doing the job as now he has Yuna down at his feet. He takes a moment to taunt his opponents, but then he scoops Yuna up from the mat AND FENIX DRIVES YUNA DOWN INTO THE MAT WITH THE SIN CITY HANGOVER!!! Fenix smirks as he presses Yuna’s shoulder’s down into the mat…

    ONE… TWO… THREE!!!

    Eliminated: Yuna Funanori by Jackson Fenix at 8:29

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “First Yuna had her elimination stolen from her by Phillip A. Jackson and now Jackson Fenix comes out of nowhere to in turn eliminate her… I think she needs to find herself a new lookout! Jokes aside, four remain, and one of these four will become the inaugural Fallout Television Champion!"

    Yuna’s elimination is met with ambivalence more than anything from those watching the action from the higher platform, but she does roll from the ring and then curse her luck once the effects of Fenix’s offence have worn off. Fenix is the cat that got the cream, though, and he dances enthusiastically to the music assuredly playing inside of his own head. A gesture to his crotch towards the departing Yuna finishes off the jig. Fenix however then turns around to see both Shawn Summers and Phillip A. Jackson have gotten to their feet and like the did with Funanori, they appear to be ready to work together to eliminate another piece of the competition.

    Allen Price: “These matches are supposed to be every man for themselves, but alliances like this can form to take out the competition before leaving it to just the two of them at the end. With Phillip A. Jackson and Shawn Summers involved, this alliance is as dangerous as they come!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “It is a smart and sound strategy, Price. It means that they can exert less energy in the early stages of the match and later on when the field has thinned down to just the two of them, they can duke it out and let the best man win."

    The smile drops from Fenix’s face, and he attempts to appeal to the better nature of his would-be attackers, but his arguments of “Let’s all work together to take out the freak.” falls on deaf ears, and he soon finds himself beset upon by Summers and PAJ. The two of them beat Fenix down to the mat in unison and soon overwhelm him. PAJ drops to a knee and begins striking Fenix in the head repeatedly with a hand, before Summers takes over and mounts Fenix’s chest and he lays into Fenix with multiple, extremely hard strikes.

    Once Summers’s Blitzkrieg is over, he stands up over Fenix’s body and stretches out his fists and balls his hand up again, before delivering a final and definitive punch down into Jackson Fenix’s face. Summers and PAJ share a nod and seem to have a coordinated plan of some description as Summers rears back and seemingly very lightly catches his elbow on PAJ’s left eye, and PAJ drops down to his knees holding his face, and he beckons the referee over!

    Allen Price: “Oh, this is just… unethical?"

    The ref dutifully goes over to check on Jackson, but this leaves the door open for Summers to stand over Fenix and open his legs up… and Summers stomps right in between Fenix’s legs!! Not for the first time in recent months, Summers goes for the low blow against Fenix as a way to neutralise him! Once the underhanded move has been executed, PAJ’s eye seems to make a miraculous recovery, and PAJ then rises to his feet with his arms in the air; both he and Summers are controlling the ring at the moment.

    PAJ’s feigning of being blind sees a quick karmic comeuppance though as Konchu Hao is back on the apron AND KONCHU THROWS BABA VANGA’S ILLUMINATION INTO THE EYES OF PHILLIP A. JACKSON!! The trusty pocket sand has Jackson flapping around, doing whatever he can to clear his vision, and the referee seems a lot less sympathetic to his plight now, given how he had pulled the wool over the official’s eyes before. As Konchu gets into the ring, seemingly recuperated following the Superkick on the outside, Summers places a hand on PAJ’s shoulder - in what is an attempt to help him - BUT PAJ CANNOT DISTINGUISH FRIEND FROM FOE AND HE CRACKS SUMMERS ON THE TOP OF THE HEAD WITH A PAJLE KICK!!

    Allen Price: “HA! They deserved that, Jean-Luc!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Since when did you start rooting against Shawn Summers, Price? He was blinded after all, for real this time. It could have been anyone!"

    There are some guffaws and a smattering of applause from the higher ups as Summers drops to the mat. PAJ is in for some more misery though as his blinded state makes it easier for Konchu to grab him around the neck and bring him down - and Konchu begins to plough into PAJ’s face with John Dee’s knees!!

    As Konchu lays into PAJ with his very stiff knee strikes, he sees Jackson Fenix back up to his feet and Fenix gears up for another Superkick - and Konchu drops PAJ - but Fenix feigned the kick! He boots Konchu in the midsection and motions for him to fellate him as he backs up onto the middle rope with Konchu hunched over in front of the corner… IF YOU SEEK AMY… BUT FENIX COULDN’T FIND HER AS KONCHU BLOCKS THE DESTROYER… HE GRABS FENIX BY THE WRIST AND TURNS HIM RIGHT INTO A RASPUTIN’S REVENGE!!

    It is not the first time that Fenix has eaten Hao’s finishing move, and it likely won’t be the last, but now with Fenix down and flat out on his back, Konchu can go for the pin!

    Allen Price: “Goodnight, sweet prince!"

    ONE… TWO… THREE!!!

    Eliminated: Jackson Fenix by Konchu Hao at 12:44

    Epsilon can be seen celebrating the elimination of Fenix at ringside, the small being jumping up in the air and raising his arms in the air. Konchu nods his head and raises his arms to the side as he rises to his feet and he sees that both Shawn Summers and Phillip A. Jackson have their sensors trained on him after he blinded one, resulting in the other taking a kick to the head. ‘The Mad Wizard’ understands the predicament that he finds himself in, but he shows no fear and lets out a loud “KEHAHAHAHAHAHA!”... and Konchu leaps forward and starts hammering away on Shawn Summers!!

    Allen Price: “Konchu Hao knows that he has the numbers working against him after the teamwork that Shawn Summers and PAJ have showed so far in this match, but they don’t call him ‘The Mad Wizard’ for nothing, Jean-Luc! He’s faced far greater odds than this before!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “His chequered history with both the Undisputed Alliance and the Buddy System is evidence of that, so you are right, Price. He’s no stranger to working on his own against multiple opponents."

    Konchu knocks Summers back and gets in a couple of hard forearm strikes before PAJ grabs ‘The Mad Wizard’ from behind and pulls him away from Summers. Instead of being pleased with Jackson, Summers still harbours some animosity over the errant PAJle Kick, and he shoves Jackson backwards. The two exchange some cross words and then both turn in Konchu’s direction, and Hao takes them both down with a Double Leaping Lariat! It is Phillip A. Jackson that Hao then singles out, and he brings PAJ back up to his feet and doubles him over once again introduces him to John Dee’s Knees!

    After some more knees, Konchu causes Jackson to straighten up with a Knee Lift to the face, and Hao then backs into the ropes and comes back with a Running STO! Jackson’s head is planted into the canvas, and Hao hooks one of his legs, looking for his second elimination of the match.

    ONE… TWO… NO!!

    Allen Price: “The question does beckon though, of how long Konchu Hao can keep this up. If PAJ and Summers can get back onto the same page, then perhaps it may just be too much for him to endure if he cannot eliminate one of them quickly."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Well, I have a feeling that HAO may be gearing up to get himself a second elimination of the match as I think Phillip A. Jackson could be about done."

    Jackson stays alive in the match, but his time could be limited, as Konchu rises back up from the pin attempt and he retains a grip over PAJ’s wrist, just as he did to Fenix, and Konchu spins him around with the Ripcord and looks for RASPUTIN’S REVENGE… BUT PAJ DUCKS THE ELBOW AND CONTINUES TO THE ROPES… SPRINGBOARDS BACKWARDS, LANDING BEHIND KONCHU… INVERTED DDT!! The great counter garners a polite applause from those watching, and now PAJ is forced to deal with Shawn Summers, who attempts an elbow drop down onto PAJ as he lays back, but PAJ kips up and avoids it.

    With Summers now down, PAJ leaps into the air and drops an elbow down on the back of Summers’s head. PAJ impressively kips up again and with Summers on one knee in the process of getting back to his feet, PAJ cracks him around the back of the head with a standing Enziguiri! Summers crumples down to the mat and PAJ looks to kick things up a gear and quickly runs towards the ropes once again and springboards from the middle rope and then lands on top of Summers with a Springboard Moonsault! PAJ holds his stomach for a second and then goes for a lateral press pin on Summers…

    ONE… TWO… NO!!

    Allen Price: “Excellent athleticism from Phillip A. Jackson! Even this far into the match and some of the punishment that he has taken, he can still pull off these fantastic moves, Jean-Luc."

    There is a slight frustration from PAJ as he protests the count by the official, but his complaints are brushed off. He soon gets over it though and takes his position in the corner, where he motions for Summers to rise from the mat after kicking out of the pin. Once Summers is on his knees, PAJ charges in and looks for the CURBSTOMP - SUMMERS STANDS UP STRAIGHT AND CATCHES PAJ WITH A BOOT TO THE MIDSECTION, AND SUMMERS LOOKS TO HOOK PAJ UP FOR MIDSOMMAR - PAJ PREVENTS HIM FROM HOOKING THE ARMS AND GETS A GO-BEHIND… GERMAN SUPLEX!!!

    PAJ stands up to his feet after the suplex and sees that Summers is slumped in the bottom turnbuckle… and PAJ charges in and hits Summers with a Face Wash!! PAJ then grabs Summers by an arm and a leg and drags him out of the corner, and he begins ascending the turnbuckle and motions that Summers is now done… PAJ TAKES FLIGHT WITH THE AMAZING SPLASH… BUT KONCHU HAO IS BACK AND HE CATCHES PAJ ON HIS SHOULDERS!! Konchu emerges from nowhere and catches PAJ in a Fireman’s Carry… WHICH HE TRANSITIONS INTO THE JOURNEY’S END!!

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “JOURNEY’S END! I’m not going to say where Konchu Hao borrowed that manoeuvre from, but it does not belong to him!"

    After being spiked on his head, PAJ somehow ends up back on his feet, and Shawn Summers drags himself back up too, and he boots PAJ in the midsection and then hooks him up… MIDSOMMAR!! Summers falls back down onto the mat and it is Konchu Hao that gets on top of Phillip A. Jackson and hooks both legs!

    ONE… TWO… THREE!!!

    Eliminated: Phillip A. Jackson by Konchu Hao at 17:13

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “And then there were two! Shawn Summers and Konchu Hao; one of these two men will become the first ever Fallout Television Champion! Price, where is your money going? I know that you are partial to Shawn Summers…"

    Allen Price: “It could go either way for me, Jean-Luc. I’ve seen first hand out here what both of these men are capable of, and with championship gold on the line, who knows what they might end up resorting to?"

    Summers and Konchu watch on as PAJ is removed from the ring after being taken out following that double dose of finishers. They are both either on their knees or sitting down in the ring, the match clearly having taken a physical toll on both of them. They do rise up at the same time as each other, and Summers does manage to beat Konchu to the punch, but Konchu fires one straight back at him! The two then take turns in hitting each other, neither providing any sort of blocking action.

    Summers hits Konchu with a big forearm, but Konchu does not offer a reply. A second forearm connects, and Konchu leans into it. There is a sense of confusion for Summers as Konchu seems to be goading him into hitting him harder… and ‘Der Bastard’ is happy to oblige… and he rocks Konchu with another very stiff forearm to the forehead, but Konchu is hardly shaken by it. Konchu laughs loudly into Summers’s face and Summers attempts another strike in response, but Konchu blocks the punch!

    Konchu snaps off a punch of his own, and he follows up with another, knocking Summers backwards. Konchu’s strikes send Summers back towards the ropes, and he then Irish Whips Summers across the ring and goes for a Clothesline, but Summers ducks it and runs towards the ropes… LIGHTS OUT!! The Springboard Knee Strike catches Konchu flush on the face and Summers dives into a cover!

    ONE… TWO… THRE-NO!!!

    Summers grits his teeth as Konchu manages to kick out, but he resorts to going for some more punches to Konchu’s head. He puts everything he has into each one and the Blitzkrieg seems to be causing some damage to Hao, as his will to fight back wains with each passing strike. On the outside, Epsilon cuts a worried figure as he begs his master to fight back in his garbled language, slamming his little hands against the ring apron in an attempt to rouse Hao. Summers rises to his feet and Konchu holds his hand out in the direction of Epsilon… but Summers flips him over and applies an Ankle Lock!

    Allen Price: “That’s not just any Ankle Lock - that’s the Best F’n Ankle Lock Period! Shawn Summers has it locked in tight, and this could spell the end of this match for Konchu Hao!"

    Twisting Konchu’s ankle as much as he can, Summers screams for his opponent to tap out and to relinquish the Television Championship to him, but Konchu refuses vehemently, regardless of how many times the referee asks him whether he wants to submit or not. Epsilon reaches back towards Konchu and holds his hand out too, and Konchu finds his fingertips just inches from Epsilon’s, but the referee demands Epsilon not interfere with what is happening in the ring.

    Seeing Epsilon being scolded is enough for Konchu to claw his way forward towards the safety that the ropes would bring him… and he stretches his fingers as much as he can and manages to curl two of them around the bottom rope and he uses these to grab the rope fully with his left hand - but Summers does not break the hold!

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Konchu Hao makes the ropes, but Shawn Summers cannot be compelled to immediately break the hold; he has until the referee’s five count, and he could still do untellable damage to Konchu’s ankle if he refuses."

    Summers keeps the hold applied and the referee starts counting. He reaches four… and then finally ‘Der Bastard’ releases the Ankle Lock. He backs away with his hands up as evidence… but then goes right back and puts the Ankle Lock straight back on Konchu! With Konchu still holding onto the ropes, Summers cannot get a submission, but with the referee counting once more, he gets a few more seconds in before finally releasing Hao. Konchu rolls under the bottom rope and regroups with Epsilon on the outside of the ring.

    Epsilon seems to be concerned for the wellbeing of his master, but Summers quickly joins them on the outside and grabs Konchu around the neck, whilst snorting in derision towards Epsilon. However, Summers finds himself getting elbowed in the stomach by Konchu and rolled back into the ring by Hao. Hao checks on Epsilon and then reenters the ring, but Summers is waiting for him with a double sledge to the back of the head upon reentry. Konchu shoves Summers away, and then catches his attempt at a boot to the midsection and responds with a Mongolian Chop! Summers holds his hands to his ears, and Hao manages to lift him up and he plants him on the mat with a BACKDROP DRIVER!! Konchu holds his ankle for a moment and then slides into a cover!

    ONE… TWO… THR-NO!!

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “You saw it there, wrestling fans, Konchu Hao’s ankle seems to be causing him all sorts of problems out there and even though Summers did not get the submission victory, the damage he put on Konchu just then could be the reason that he is able to win this match."

    Allen Price: “Like we’ve seen him do before twice in this match, Konchu is bringing Summers up to his feet and if he can connect with the Rasputin’s Revenge, this one will be over!"

    Konchu stands up straight, although he is unable to put all of his weight down on his right foot due to the Ankle Lock damage, and he pulls Summers up by his wrist… but Summers wriggles loose and attempts to hook Konchu up for MIDSOMMAR - BUT KONCHU COUNTERS IT AND GOES BEHIND… AND HE’S TRYING TO LOCK IN THE BLACK LOCUST BITE!! The Dragon Sleeper portion of the hold is almost locked in, but Konchu’s lack of balance prevents him from being able to properly apply the scissors as he cannot move his leg properly… and Summers realises it!


    ONE… TWO… THREE!!!

    Eliminated: Konchu Hao by Shawn Summers at 22:55
    Winner: Shawn Summers

    KONCHU KICKS OUT JUST AFTER THREE! There is a hush on the platform as everyone watching realises what has just happened; Shawn Summers is a champion. Summers himself rises from the chest of Konchu Hao and looks elated at what has just happened, and seems to almost not believe what is happening as he is handed the Fallout Television Championship by the referee. Summers rises to his feet and looks down at the title, ignoring the referee’s request to raise his hand.

    Natalie Rosenberg: “Here is your winner AND NEWWWWWWWWWWW Fallout Television Champion… SHAWN SUMMERS!!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “There you have it, wrestling fans! The first match of this new era for Fallout has heralded a new champion and his name is ‘Der Bastard’! Price, you seem to have acquired a soft spot of sorts for Shawn Summers, this must please you, no?"

    Allen Price: “I’m very happy for Shawn, as anyone should be. Although, I’m not sure I fully agree with his tactics towards the end of that match as the desperation set in. I think deep down, Summers felt like he needed to bend the rules to his whim in order to get past the stiff test that Konchu Hao presents to anyone that he steps into the ring with."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Shawn did what needed to be done, Price. That’s the image that we can proudly project for Fallout; someone like Shawn Summers would not have been granted opportunities like this had he sided with the competition. His decision to be a part of this has paid dividends for him already. You see what happens when you show a bit of loyalty to your employer, Price? Maybe you should have told that to that friend of yours."

    Allen Price: “So now you’ll acknowledge it?! Dammit, Jean-Luc. Anyway… do I really have to say this?... Get your beach towels ready and that sunscreen on, because it is Summers time!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “This is just the first of many firsts. Congratulations to Shawn Summers. The night is not over though, and let’s not forget tonight’s main event where Executive Excellence’s Kayden Knox and Gabrielle will challenge the Men Out of Time for the Fallout World Tag Team Championships!"

    Summers remains in the ring, staring into his own face still in his newly-won championship belt… and he then looks out into the North Sea. The camera catches a cold smirk forming on his face.

    — — — — —

    The rebirth of Fallout continues with a moment in-between the previous match and the next one. The crowd is subdued initially but responds with a loud cheer when XYZ walks into the camera's shot from the left side. He doesn't turn to face the camera, instead showing a sideways frame of his curly dirty blonde hair that dangles down to his shoulders. The green cape tied around his neck symbolizes the superhero's 24-hour-a-day work attire. The bright green tights with sparkles littered on the pants, a new addition for the erratic FWA star.

    "The heart ... is a vital organ. A broken heart ... can kill the soul. It can kill the will. It can kill the spirit."

    XYZ is speaking at nearly the volume of a whisper. This is the first time the FWA fanbase and roster has heard from him since he heartbreakingly lost the FWA X Championship match on the second night of Back in Business XV to Alyster Black, the man who is no longer employed by the FWA and has taken his championship with him.

    "XYZ's heart ... could and should be broken. I should be dead in spirit. Any mere man ... would be.

    But I am no mere man. I have a purpose that goes ... beyond me. My heart ... is strong enough to overcome even the most devastating losses. I said it before ... we learn from failure. We have fallen off the hill before. We will keep climbing. We keep running up that hill."

    XYZ's volume slowly increases as he inches his body 90 degrees to his right, turning his face to the camera.

    "I ask you ... do you believe in the guiding light of the egrets? Do you wonder about the strength of the chimpanzee? Do you think there is hope ... in the dolphin's tusk?

    What about the blades of grass that are scattered throughout the eternal rainforest? Or the spray of rain that gives energy to the streetlights? Or those same streetlights that give children a little more time to play before dinner?"

    XYZ is now standing directly facing the camera. His curly hair is longer than it has ever been, with the bangs nearly covering his wide-eyed expression that still makes its way through the curls and catches the camera's focus.

    "I am NOT ... alone. XYZites of eternity ... are with me in the hundreds. There are AT LEAST twenty of us. I hear them. I feel them. They CALL OUT to me."

    The crowd of way more than twenty begin shouting, "EX-WHY-ZEE! EX-WHY-ZEE! EX-WHY-ZEE!" as if they're answering the superhero's call.

    "The FWA ... is not alone. Fallout ... Incorporated ... might be ... in the lead. The FWA has the willpower of FIFTY THOUSAND SPRINTING ACCOUNTANTS! The charge continues.

    And even though ... Fallout is the beast ... XYZ is in the belly. Even if it's just me ... keeping the light on ... I will carry that bulb for you.

    But I am not alone. Jeremy Best ... we will find out of YOU ... are worthy of joining the THIRTY ... XYZites."

    More "EX-WHY-ZEE! EX-WHY-ZEE!" chants from voices in the audience equaling not forty but closer to a multiple of forty.


    the souls of the old.

    Don't let them tell you your heart must be broken.

    Don't let them tell you the soul is dead.

    Don't let them tell your story for you."

    XYZ takes his right index finger and points it at the camera.

    "We keep going because the world needs us to keep going. The people who PHYSICALLY ... CANNOT ... KEEP GOING ... turn to us ... to keep the streetlights on.

    They want us ... to make the day go ... a little longer.

    I refuse to give in.


    NEVER ...


    — — — — —

    ‘Knock Out’ || G.D. & T.O.P.

    Natalie Rosenberg: “The following match is a tag team match set for one fall, with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first, at a combined weight of two hundred and sixty eight pounds, from Seoul, South Korea, MIDNIGHT Mustang and SUNRISE Stallion… the PONI BOIs!”

    PONI BOI step onto the entranceway with microphones already strapped to their hands, and rapping through their entrance music. Although they’re used to ecstatic and excited crowds, they don’t get much of that here. The fans are few and very removed, and most of them have no idea who these two K-Pop sensations are.

    Allen Price: “I’m a huge fan of these two! The musical talent is exquisite, the wrestling talent, well, not so much.”

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “At the very least, they’re an upgrade over the Bad Boys Band.”

    Allen Price: “I won’t disagree with you there.”

    The PONI BOI are indifferent to the lukewarm reaction and still perform as if they were in front of thousands of fangirling Gen Z’s.

    ‘Flat Earth’ || Clown Core

    The bizarre and aggravating tune echoes through the oil rig and Quiet appears dressed in all black but for a midnight blue Nephews tracksuit on top. He stares menacingly at the many security guards that litter the oil rig, to a count even larger than those here to simply “enjoy” the show.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “We don’t often get to see the silent member of the Nephews in action, but when we do, he often tends to get quite… violent.”

    Allen Price: “He’s a psychopath, simply put. And since we’re being so uptight about identities here on Fallout, Incorporated, I wonder if someone checked underneath his mask.”

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “Yeah, the man had to be floated off the oil rig to the nearest medical facility. They decided to just let him keep his mask on.”

    ‘No Love’ || Death Grips.

    And out next is Cosmic Horror. This time around, the lackadaisical fans enthusiastically boo the Nephew, who has been notoriously a torn in the side of Executive Excellence head man, Danny Toner.

    Natalie Rosenberg: [COLOR=goldenrod]“And their opponents-“/COLOR]

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “Cut the music. Please, cut the music. Natalie, although I love to hear you introducing me, we don’t need that here. Official - official, ring the bell if you will.”

    Cosmic Horror is still a noteworthy distance from the squared circle but the official obliges his demands after Quiet grabs him by the collar, and though no words emerge from him, the physical threat is enough. The referee signals the bell keeper and the match commences.

    Uncle J.J. JAY! and Quiet vs. PONI BOI.
    Tag Team Match.
    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “Hi PONI BOIs. Big fan, I even advocated for you two to get an entrance this time, even considering the poor audience here. Let’s be honest, they aren’t deserving of neither you, nor me.”

    Uncle’s momentary addressing of the international pop sensation distracts them and MIDNIGHT Mustang and SUNRISE Stallion are bowled over by the Nephews’s sole in-ring competitor before they have a chance to decide who will start the match. Quiet lifts them both up, in an impressive display of strength, completing a swift double suplex.

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “But I suppose those who have sacrificed their morals and opted against ethical consumption back home to indulge in the sight of Nephews and PONI BOIs on Friday - or Saturday, arguably Sunday - Nights should be rewarded. So to them we give a PONI BOI entrance and some Quiet wrestling.”

    Quiet has both stars in one corner of the ring and launches himself to the opposite before sprinting back with a shotgun drop kick into the corner. He rolls right back to his feet, sprints to the opposite corner a second time, and then hits a second shotgun drop kick. He rolls to his feet, and whips SUNRISE across the ring to the other corner before following him at rapid speed, and striking him in the jaw with a big boot. He untangles himself from that corner as the Stallion drops to his ass, and strikes at Mustang with a big boot as well, leaving him shortly after in the same seated predicament. Quiet launches himself at SUNRISE and hits a cannonball senton at full speed. He rolls to his feet, and a cannonball senton on the other side of the ring.

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “And, while Quiet will take care of the in-ring business, I’ll take over the commentating business, sorry about the gimmick infringement Heretic, but at least we don’t have to entertain Allen Price’s - and I use the term loosely - witticisms, for however long this affair lasts.”

    Stallion is crawling under the ropes, onto the apron, but he stops halfway there when he notices Quiet standing in front of him. Quiet gets Stallion to his feet, and plants him with a pile driver!

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “OH MY GOD! ON THE HARDEST PART OF THE RING! Quiet, no! No! Some mercy, please!”

    But Quiet has no room for mercy. He hustles to the opposite side where MIDNIGHT is halfway through escaping the ring, and grabs him by the waist, landing a German suplex that sees Mustang landing on the upper part of his neck. Cosmic Horror continues to talk, seemingly forgetting the match in the ring.

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “A year of FWA has come and gone again. And what was largely a year of Nephew supremacy, seemingly concluded as anything but. Though I can’t quite tell if this is to the delight, or the dismay, of you all. And let it be known, when I am using the royal you here, I’m most certainly not referring to the bourgeoisie in attendance, but to the proletariat watching back home.”

    The jeers that the crowd manages to send Uncle’s way are poor and underwhelming, and earn but a shake of the head from Cosmic Horror.

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “At last, the Chessmaster has fulfilled his potential, but, at what cost. The Chosen One has done what is to be expected of all who have so much weight placed on their shoulders, he has betrayed the faith of his people. And now here we are, in the midst of LA REVOLUCION! I, for one, am always up for a fun revolution. And the subsequent Civil War that naturally follows. That said, I’m not so much partial to having to side with the point one percenter, but I suppose when the alternative is also a corporate entity, you find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

    Quiet charges through the ropes and hits a suicide dive onto MIDNIGHT Mustang, flattening him against the ringside barricades.

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “So, as I wipe the sweat off my brow, wondering which side I must take, I remember I am not anathema to being in such a state, where there is war, a sharp mind knows… THERE IS PROFITEERING TO BE MADE. And Nephews, there is no sharper mind than that of a Cosmic Horror, so profiteering I shall do. Though, this whole business of splitting up the Nephews, truly, I’m not too keen on. We’re down to two here on Fallout, Incorporated, and that simply won’t do. Nephews need numbers, after all. It’s one of our core tenets, hence the seamless alliteration.”

    Quiet rams the head of SUNRISE Stallion into the steel post numerous times, than proceeds to smashing it against the apron.

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “Now, I address myself to you, dear ole’ Ruppy. I must admit, I’m not very content with how you’ve comported yourself recently. Using the Nephews to elevate the Yuppie Foundation, disrespecting my dearest Nephew West after he gave his blood, sweat, tears, and numerous burner universes for his moment, and then causing the schism in professional wrestling’s greatest family. I do not feel at home here on Fallout, Incorporated, and yet, I’ve seen you bend over backwards for the Shawn Summers of the world, offering them everything, in exchange for nothing, and yet, taking everything from me, and returning nothing back. I am NOT keen on being hustled, Ruppy.”

    Quiet stands in the corner of the ring, stalking MIDNIGHT Mustang who is crawling about. He begins to charge for his punt kick-

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “No punt kick! Damn it, Quiet. We like these guys.”

    Quiet stops mid-charge, just about missing kicking MIDNIGHT Mustang’s head off. He shakes his head at Cosmic Horror and lifts up Mustang’s limp body, shoving him towards the ropes and striking him with a spinning back fist on the rebound.

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “Oh, looks like we’re just about done. I guess I should wrap things up. Conclusive statement. Where was I, where was I. So, my expectation is that this Nephews-thin roster will see its greatest flaw addressed sooner, or later. OR- wait, have I done my ad bit, yet? Have you guys seen these new limited edition Cthulhu’s Nephews: Fallout Incorporated exclusive tracksuits. Only one thousand versions available. In this universe, at least. Don’t miss out.”

    Quiet locks the Bulldog Choke in on SUNRISE Stallion and it’s just a couple of seconds before the official announces the culmination of the tag match.

    Winners: Quiet & Uncle J.J. JAY! via submission at 4:05

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “Good match, well done PONI BOIs. Good effort. Now, Quiet, show the nice men in suits what happens if the Nephews count does not expand, here on Fallout, Incorporated.”

    Quiet obliges Cosmic Horror and leaps out of the ring onto the numerous security guards that have been lining the ring and been seen securing most of the oil rig. Many of the security guards that managed to be far away from the point of impact try to get their hands on Quiet but the man has a steel chair in hand within seconds and swings it towards anything within reach. Whenever there is a dearth in security members to give him a direction to swing towards, he instead swings it downwards to anything still showing signs of consciousness.

    Cal Robinson: “Stop that, stop that, this instance.”

    Quiet doesn’t listen to the commands of Cal Robinson who pops into view from within the recesses of the oil rig, and with dozens of midnight blue-sporting Fallout security.

    Cal Robinson: “This is NOT how you get your way here on Fallout, Incorporated. We won’t be held hostage, and threatened by our talent. For as much bizarre market value as you may offer us, at the end of the day, you are still an employee, J.J. JAY!. And you are not free of consequences, no matter what you think you are. As for you, Quiet, lay your hand on one more Fallout, Incorporated official, and you will be relieved of your contract right here, right now.”

    Some of Cal’s officials approach Quiet cautiously to try and secure him, but the caution ends up being redundant, and Quiet catches the closest one with a chair shot before launching it at the other while they try to escape.

    Cal Robinson: “That’s it! That’s it! Quiet, you’re fired!”

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: “Ca-”

    Cal Robinson: “Cut his mic.”

    Uncle tries to check his microphone, but there’s no helping it, it’s no longer functioning. Quiet is swarmed with Fallout, Incorporated security who through sheer numbers are able to overwhelm the masked Nephews and drag him out of sight. Uncle, surprisingly, does not object to being escorted out of the area.

    Allen Price: “ “Well, I can’t say I’m mad about another Nephew being out of Fallout, Incorporated.”

    Jean-Luc Watkins: “I’m not sure what else you would expect from assaulting so many officials. It was the only rational decision here.”

    Allen Price: “ “Uncle came in wanting to demand more Nephews here, and he’s come out with no more Nephews at his side. Someone ought to give him some better advice on negotiating.”

    — — — — —

    Kayden Knox stands by, backstage, two figures in the dark behind him to represent his brother and sister in arms. They stand side by side with smug smiles on their faces. Kayden starts to speak.

    Kayden Knox: “I saw the way you all looked at me with pity in your eyes. You looked at me as some sort of charity case, you looked down on me whether you wanted to admit it or not. I was at the point where I felt at my lowest. The path I made to get there was built on desperate attempts to right wrongs. that I didn't need to atone for actions that I should have let die, I lived my life in the past whether it was from my so called atonement to my crippling affliction and came to realization.

    What was it?

    That I don't need to wear that weight on my shoulders.”

    Kayden pulls a book out from his jacket and holds it up.

    Kayden Knox: “I wonder has anyone here ever heard the story of Atlas? The titan who literally had the burden of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders?”

    Kayden turns the page, where we see what he just described.

    Kayden Knox: “Atlas & I aren't so different. You see, we both carried those burdens. We both carried our sins on our backs, they were the atonements for our deeds. The weight everyday would feel heavier and the burden, the atonement buckled the knees a little more until the weight started to overbear. The thing is Atlas, had to hold the world on his shoulders for the greater good. I had to hold it for what your admiration? So that I can make up for my past? I can't do it anymore... I won't…”

    Kayden tosses the book aside.

    Kayden Knox: “Now, I can look to my future and leave the past to stay dead. Do you know what my future holds? I can now wake up every morning without that pressure weighing me down. I can finally close my eyes at night and sleep! I can stop the tossing and turning and the cold sweats. I didn't give in to defeat. I bought into myself. I put self worth in myself. This is about me, doing it my way giving myself a future.”

    Kayden takes off his black suit jacket and rolls up his dark blue sleeves.

    Kayden Knox: “I want you to take a look at the man standing in front of you right now. I look a little different right? I cover myself in ink to cover up every scar that made me feel sick to my stomach. Those scars that reminded me of how lost I truly was. The scars were my past, The scars were a marker of every failure. You're going to boo me?”

    Kayden rolls his eyes before going back to speak.

    Kayden Knox: “When we don't have enough love for ourselves, when we lose hope, what is the worth of living a life like that? Go ahead ask yourself that. Why should I have to be a burden to live up to your standards? Why should I have to stumble time after time and live with the guilt to live up to that.

    Do you know who should feel guilty?

    Every single one of you!

    Every single person who made me feel less than nothing. Every person who made me carry that past burden. I know my worth now, I see what my future holds.”

    Knox smirks.

    Kayden Knox: “It holds victories and championships and it holds self respect and appreciation of myself. If that makes me a bad guy, so be it. I am done living that life. Gabrielle, Danny, and I are putting everyone on notice. We are putting everyone on the chopping block. There is a clear vision, no matter what happens, no matter what turns may come this vision is coming to fruition.

    We are the Alpha's and the Omega's. So to everyone in that locker room when you hit rock bottom, and you get knocked down. I don't want you to keep digging yourself a hole.


    I want you to give in to your ambitions. When that hand is offered to you, don't bite the one that feeds you because there are fates worse than death.”

    — — — — —

    Somewhere within the Tower we find Big Bryan Baxter preparing to head to towards the ring area alongside his partner Jeremy Best for his match against XYZ. However, Jeremy stops Bryan in his tracks.

    Jeremy Best: "Wait, Bryan."

    Bryan Baxter: "Huh? What's up?"

    Jeremy Best: "I know you like to come out with me as my partner and friend and all, but...I think...for this one, I'm going to request you stay back here."

    Bryan Baxter: "Wait? What? Are you sure?"

    Jeremy Best: "XYZ made it perfectly clear he is testing the kind of person I am. This is a very important match and I want him to see that I can do this. I have to do this myself."

    Bryan seems apprehensive but nods.

    Bryan Baxter: "Look man, I'm always here for ya but I also told you that I'm here to support you. And if that's your decision, then I'll sit back here and watch it myself."

    Jeremy Best: "Thanks! I'm ready to pass this test and continue on the journey to save Krash!"

    Bryan Baxter: "You got this, go show that weirdo what you're made of."

    Jeremy Best: "Be nice, Bryan! But...yes, I sure will!"

    Bryan offers up a high five to Jeremy which is eagerly accepted before Jeremy heads off screen as his match is up next.

    — — — — —

    “One Headlight” | The Wallflowers

    Natalie Rosenberg: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall, with a twenty minute time limit. Introducing first, on his way to the ring… from Sitka, Alaska… weighing one-hundred and eighty-four pounds… XYZ!“

    XYZ emerges from the entrance beneath the ring decked out in his green and black colored robe and, of course, sans footwear.

    Allen Price: "Quite the unusual dynamic we have in this upcoming match between two of Fallout's most beloved by the fans"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "XYZ had a successful Night One at Back in Business, but came up just short of capturing the X-Title on Night Two. He will no doubt be trying to bounce back here."

    Allen Price: "Yes, there's that. But I was referring to the fact that leading up to this match, XYZ's own opponent has approached him to become an XYZite! This match is the final test for Jeremy Best!"

    XYZ slingshots himself into the ring and poses for the minimal people in attendance before turning to await his opponent.

    "You've Got a Friend in Me" || Randy Newman

    Natalie Rosenberg: "And his opponent, from Friendship, North Carolina... weighing in at one-hundred and eighty pounds... he is "Your New Best Friend"... JEEEEEREMMMYYY BEST!"

    Jeremy emerges by himself, having instructed Bryan Baxter to stay in the back prior to the match. The khaki-wearing Best climbs up onto the apron.

    Allen Price: "And the reason Jeremy has approached XYZ is for his assistance in tracking down the whereabouts of Krash after the events of Back in Business."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "I'm not sure there's much to investigate three. We all saw what happened on Night Two. Jeremy is delusional if he thinks there's any finding Krash or Randy Ramon after that. Jeremy should've just spent the time celebrating their Back in Business win over the Undisputed Alliance, not taking up this foolish quest."

    Allen Price: "This is why you don't have many friends! Remind me to never get lost and presumed dead around you. Jeremy's motives are noble and I'd like to believe Krash is out there somewhere myself!"

    XYZ vs.Jeremy Best
    Singles Match
    (Match Writer: Dubb)
    The bell rings as XYZ and Jeremy Best both walk out to the middle of the ring, eyeing one another up. As is customary for a Jeremy Best match, he opens the match by extending his hand out for a handshake. XYZ glances down at the extended hand of Jeremy..

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Don’t do it! Everyone always falls for this and I just don’t get it! Jeremy Best cannot be trusted!"

    But after some deliberation, XYZ does take Jeremy by the hand and Best leaps up for the enziguri - BUT X ducks!

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Haha! He had it scouted!"

    Jeremy sits up on a knee as he and X both share a smile at one another as XYZ points to his brain, signaling that he had outsmarted Jeremy to start the match. Jeremy gives him some credit with a polite clap as he gets to his feet. The two now begin to circle one another before they move in for a collar and elbow tie-up. After some jockeying for position, X gets the upper hand and whips Jeremy into the ropes. X leapfrogs over Jeremy as Jeremy bounces back off the opposite ropes before going for a clothesline to the rebounding Best. But Jeremy ducks and bounces off the opposite ropes once again. This time a backdrop from XYZ sees Jeremy leap up and slide across X’s back. X turns back around and is met with an arm drag takedown from Best! But XYZ kips right back up to his feet!

    Allen Price: "It’s a fast pace start between these two with neither getting the upperhand just yet in a battle of a potential budding friendship."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "There are no friends in a one-on-one matchup, Allen. They’ll figure that out soon."

    The pair lock up once again, this time XYZ positioning Jeremy into a side headlock only to have Jeremy shove him off into the ropes, but X comes back with a shoulder block that takes Jeremy down to the mat before going for a quick springboard moonsault, but Jeremy rolls out of the way! X lands on his feet only to get hit by a shotgun dropkick from Jeremy!

    Allen Price: "More back and forth action but it's Jeremy Best looking to finally get an upperhand! What a dropkick there and it landed perfectly."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "A lot of force behind that dropkick and it’s sent XYZ out of the ring…and I don’t think Jeremy is going to let this pace slow down."

    And sure enough, before XYZ can get his composure outside the ring, Best comes DIVING OUT OF THE RING with the topé suicida! Jeremy pulls X back to his feet, rolling him back into the ring. Jeremy climbs up onto the apron and comes back into the ring with a springboard, but a recovering X hits a spinkick to flying Jeremy to send him down to the mat. X wraps up Jeremy with a Magistral Cradle for a pinning predicament!

    One - Two - NO!

    Jeremy escapes the cradle only to be caught by an onslaught of offense from XYZ as he dishes out some vicious kicks to the thighs and shins just as he was trying to get back up to his feet. After about twenty seconds, XYZ finished off the kick combination with a standing dropkick right to the chest! With Jeremy down, X leaps onto the ropes…springboard moonsault…NO! He lands on his feet and hits a standing senton splash to Jeremy before going for the cover.

    One - Two- Kickout!

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "And outstanding display of offense here from XYZ has turned the tables on Best!"

    Allen Price: "It sure was impressive but it’s going to take a lot more than that to keep our best friend down?"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Our? Speak for yourself."

    Allen Price: "XYZ is continuing on the attack here and is heading to the top rope…what could he be thinking here?!"

    Jeremy staggers up to his feet just as XYZ comes flying off the top rope, driving both his knees into Jeremy’s chest to send him back down to the mat! X reaches back and hooks both legs while still on top to go for another pinfall!

    One - Two - Thr…NO!

    Sitting up on his knees, X shows no signs of frustration despite another nearfall falling short. He drives a pair of elbows into the top of Jeremy’s head as he tries to get to his feet before whipping Jeremy into the ropes…off the ropes..Jeremy comes back in towards XYZ…

    Tiltawhirl DDT to XYZ! Both men were down as Jeremy was unable to immediately capitalize before rolling over and making a lateral press cover.

    One - Two - Thr..KICKOUT!

    Jeremy pulls X back up to his feet, hooking him by the head before lifting him up into a vertical suplex…

    Allen Price: "I hope you’re ready, Jean-Luc, because I am! It’s the Three Amigos!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "And unfortunately for Jeremy, they are not Undisputed, are they?"

    Allen Price: "Too soon, Jean-Luc. Too soon."

    Jeremy finishes up the three rolling vertical suplexes before kipping back up to his feet himself. X sits up onto his knees as Jeremy now begins to unleash his stiff rapid fire kicks to X’s chest. Jeremy backs off as X staggers back to his feet slowly before Jeremy extends his hands, coming in and giving the weary X a hug.

    Allen Price: "Well that’s a nice moment."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Not so fast because it’s not a hug…its an OVERHEAD BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX! This could be it as Jeremy goes for the pin!"

    ONE! TWO! THRE…..NO!

    Both men are slow to recover but it is Jeremy striking first before sending X into the corner with an Irish Whip. Jeremy rushes in with a running corner splash before lifting XYZ up onto the top turnbuckle. Jeremy looks to be setting X up for a hurricanrana, but X begins to battle back on the turnbuckle. X pulls Jeremy up with him as both men are now standing on the top turnbuckle, trading blows before Jeremy begins to lose his balance and a headbutt from XYZ sent Jeremy FALLING off the top turnbuckles down to the mat!

    X now finds himself in prime position as Jermey is down on the mat! XYZ begins to tightrope walk across the ropes..

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "This is going to be it! He’s going for Front-Flip Springboard Legdrop! The test is about to be over for Jeremy!"

    XYZ bounces himself off the top rope, flips forward and…


    XYZ legdrops nothing but canvas and clutches his leg in pain as he uses the ropes to pull himself back up to his feet. But Jeremy is already up! He lifts up X into a Fireman’s Carry…

    Allen Price: "Not so fast, Jean-Luc, because I think the test IS going to be passed! It’s BFF time!"

    Best heads to the center of the ring to execute his finishing move, but XYZ escapes down Jeremy’s back…RELEASE GERMAN SUPLEX! X pulls himself up and hits a springboard moonsault to Jeremy!

    One! Two! Thr…SHOULDER UP!

    X rolls away from Jeremy out onto the apron, using the ropes to pull himself up as Jeremy was also struggling to get to his feet. X finds the energy to springboard back into the ring, over Jeremy’s back into a sunset flip attempt…but Jeremy stands strong and blocks it…sitting down on the sunset flip attempt!

    One! Two! REVERSED into a roll up from XYZ!

    One! Two! Kickout!

    Both men roll back to their feet and find themselves staring each other down once again.

    Allen Price: "Back and forth these two go! What an evenly contested match and the mutual respect is starting to grow between these two! Look, now it's XYZ offering his hand to Jeremy!"

    XYZ indeed has his hand extended out to Jeremy, who can’t help but smile as he happily accepts the handshake…


    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Hahaha! Jeremy gets a taste of his own medicine! I love it!"

    Jeremy is taken down to his knees as XYZ follows up by rushing to the ropes and coming in with a diving dropkick to Jeremy’s chest to take him back down to the mat! Jeremy rolls his way towards the ropes before pulling himself up in the corner but X was hot on his trail as he followed him into the corner, delivering a series of swift kicks to Jeremy’s midsection.

    X places Jeremy up onto the top turnbuckle but now it was Jeremy fighting back as he creates some space with a few kicks of his own to the head of XYZ, sending him staggering backward as Jeremy stands up on the middle turnbuckles, leaping off with a DIVING DDT! Jeremy rolls X over and hooks a leg for the pin!

    One! Two! Threeeeee-NO! XYZ just barely gets his shoulder up!

    Jeremy holds out his arm, wrapping his hand around his own wrist, signaling for the Friendship Bracelet! Jeremy grabs the arm of the fallen XYZ and just as he is about to drop down for the cross armbar, Jeremy turns his attention to the camera man standing on the ring apron.

    Jeremy Best: "Krash? KRASH! IT’S YOU!"

    Allen Price: "Wait, what?"

    Jeremy rushes over to the cameraman who happens to be sporting a beautiful mustache but is noticeably NOT Krash by any stretch of the imagination.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "It’s happened. Jeremy Best has officially lost it. That’s clearly just our cameraman, Brady!"

    Allen Price: "Grief does funny things with the mind. But Jeremy has to turn his attention back to the match at hand!"

    Jeremy goes in for a hug to Brady the Cameraman when he finally gets a better look at him and realizes it’s not his friend.

    Jeremy Best: "Oh, so sorry…"

    A disappointed Jeremy turns back around towards the ring…and is surprised by a quick SMALL PACKAGE from XYZ!

    One! Two! Three!

    Winner: XYZ via pinfall at 13:09

    Jean-Luc Watkins:
    "Jeremy takes his eyes off the ball and really paid for it there!"

    Allen Price: "The loss of Krash hurts the FWA a lot but it’s clearly hurting Jeremy perhaps most of all!"

    Jeremy sits up on his knees, his face showing the disbelief of how fast that ending had transpired while XYZ is happy to have his arm lifted up in victory.

    The pair meet in the center of the ring after the match, XYZ offering a sincere handshake to his opponent. Jeremy gives a knowing nod to X, accepting the handshake before heading out of the ring to let XYZ continue to celebrate.

    However, before he can leave. XYZ stops Jeremy and asks for the microphone.

    XYZ: "Jeremy Best. My thoughts about fact..accurate! The outcome of this match was never the deciding factor. You have proven yourself tonight worthy and I officially bestow unto you the title of Honorary XYZite! It will be my pleasure to accompany you on this quest to find Krash!"

    Jeremy can barely contain his excitement, going straight in for a hug to XYZ before the pair lifted up one another's arms up in victory.

    — — — — —

    Fallout cuts backstage to find Jackson Fenix in an uproar after coming up short in his shot at becoming the inaugural Fallout TV Champion. Fenix is pulling at his hair, and he’s throwing things around. He stops what he’s doing and sees a poster taped to the wall; it’s a missing poster for Krash with a picture of Krash, and underneath it says Krash’s last known whereabouts and “If you see him, please contact Jeremy Best.” Fenix’s blood begins to boil even further when he sees that name as he rips the missing poster off the wall and tosses it in the trash can.

    Nate Savage: “Hey, Jax! Come take a look at this!”

    He hears the shouts down the hall from his friend Nate Savage, and Fenix shuffles down the hall where Savage is watching a monitor, and on the monitor is footage of Jeremy losing to XYZ.

    Nate Savage: “Can you believe it?! His singles winning streak is over!”

    Jackson’s scowl turns to that of a smirk and then laughter as he points at a dejected Jeremy on the monitor.

    Jackson Fenix: “What a dork! Look at that sad little loser; he looks like he’s about to cry!”

    Cameraman: “You lost tonight as well, didn’t you?”

    Fenix stops laughing, and the scowl has returned as he turns to face the camera. He silently motions for it to come forward, and once it does, he shoves the cameraman down, and the feed cuts out.

    — — — — —

    We cut to the backstage area, down below on the container ship anchored at the base of Roughs Tower. Todd Salum stands in a dimly lit corridor, a microphone in hand and flanked on either side by 'the Mad Wizard' Konchu Hao and his faithful minion Epsilon. Hao is motionless and has his arms folded in front of him, and even through the mask we can tell that there is a look of disappointment and disapproval on his face. Epsilon shuffles awkwardly, a picture of concern, mostly about what his master would do in response to his loss earlier in the night.

    Todd Salum: "I'm standing by, ladies and gentlemen, with one of the five unfortunate competitors who tried and failed to capture the Fallout Television Championship in tonight's opening contest… a match and a prize eventually won by 'Der Basterd' Shawn Summers. Konchu Hao, tonight might not have gone exactly according to your plan, but what's next for the Mad Wizard?"

    Konchu unfolds his arms, and begins to rub the palms of his hands together, whilst staring into the lens.

    Konchu Hao: "'Not exactly according to plan'... that is a gentle way of putting it, Salum. An understatement, most definitely. Tonight, on a night of firsts, we saw Shawn Summers not only become the first Fallout Television Champion, but also claim his first championship since his long-forgotten CWA days. To say that this was 'not exactly according to my plan' is to state a fact that is both painful and painfully obvious. But now is not the time to pontificate or prognos- -"

    Konchu doesn't get a chance to finish the thought, because the lights, already quite dim, rather suddenly go out completely.

    Todd Salum: "… are you doing this?"

    Konchu Hao: "No. I can't see a thing. These working conditions are ludicrous."

    Todd Salum: "Maybe it's Uncle. He likes to bother me."

    We cut away from the dark scene and to the ringside area, which is still illuminated by the four towers of floodlights on each of the corners of the main platform.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "We appear to be having a few technical difficulties, wrestling fans, but the silverlining is that we can get on with our main event. This, ladies and gentlemen, is what you've all been waiting for: the Fallout World's Tag Team Championships."

    Allen Price: "Just two weeks after the shocking events in Rio De Janeiro, Rupert Watkins' hand-selected pairing of Gabrielle and Kayden Knox are about to challenge for those- -"

    Just like Konchu moments before, Allen Price's rhythm is disrupted by malfunctioning lights. Each of the four floodlights power down with a loud, mechanical declaration of dormancy. Suddenly, both of the commentators are shrouded in darkness, the night having descended during the course of the show. Murmuring begins to circulate amongst the audience members assembled on the upper platform, confusion beginning to gather alongside the night.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "It looks as though these technical difficulties are a little more widespread than we thought, wrestling fans. We've lost power up here on the main deck, too…"

    We cut away from the now pitch black images at ringside and to another location. This room is not much lighter, having fallen prey to the same issues as seemingly the rest of the location. The mood in the room seems panicked, a general hubbub ongoing in the face of the apparent blackout.

    ???: "Where are those back-up generators?"

    ???: "Has anyone informed R.W. yet?"

    ???: "He's watching tonight. He'll already know."

    ???: "Anyone know what's causing this, yet?"

    ???: "Where are those back-up generators?!"

    ???: "Hold on, firing those up right now. Power coming back, at least to here…"

    The proclamation turns out to be a truthful one, with the lights slowly returning in some fashion to this room. With this illumination, we see a room similar to the communication and security hub that we saw on The Granary during the King of the Deathmatch tournament. A team of Fallout Executive Aides, their numbers now visible upon the namebadges on their chests, scurry about in response to the loss of power. One of these assistants, number 128, is busy inspecting a communications screen whilst reporting back to the others in the room.

    Fallout Executive Aide No. 128: "Nothing wrong with the grid, it seems. Power is coming in. Everything else is working except the lights."

    Another, number 307, is adjusting a series of dials on a control panel in front of him.

    Fallout Executive Aide No. 307: "The back-up generators can't power the deck, or the platforms. And the juice won't hold out long. I think someone is jamming our lighting circuits."

    A third executive aide sits in front of a large wall of screens, her eyes widening as the disparate images from around the ship begin to paint a picture…

    Fallout Executive Aide No. 258: "Um… you guys might want to take a look at this…"

    We watch over number 258's shoulder, other executive assistants stepping up alongside her to get a better view, as the camera creeps forward towards the array of screens. There are twenty of them in total, arranged into four neat rows of five. Some of them are already black, which is a source of consternation for the aides as it is, but that sense only increases when a figure - dressed all in black - emerges onto one of the screens.

    A moment later, a second, similarly dressed figure appears on another screen on the array.

    And then a third.

    This goes on, and the appearance of one of these hooded figures is preceded almost immediately by the disconnection of that camera from the network, and the corresponding screen turning to black. Eventually, there are no cameras, and no security footage, left at all.

    The aides look at one another in confusion, and then we cut away.

    We are back with Konchu Hao, the camera that was with him for the interrupted interview still following him as he walks down a corridor below deck on the container ship. Epsilon scurries to keep at his side, and eventually the Mad Wizard pushes his way through a door and onto the main deck of the vessel.

    At this exact moment, a flare is sent up in the distance, illuminating the deck over Konchu's shoulder. Ahead of the masked man and across the deck, peering around the edge of a shipping container, we see one of the hooded, shadowy figures introduced a few moments before…

    Beneath the flare, he removes his hood. Konchu takes a step towards the figure, the camera struggling to bring him into focus…

    Allen Price: "Is that… it is! That's Meltdown's Cyrus Truth!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Meltdown is here! Where the hell is security?! This is what we've been training for the past two weeks!!"

    Hao takes one more step towards Truth, but the Exile slips around the edge of a container. Konchu pauses, hesitating, unsure as to whether he should follow…

    … but another infiltrator makes the decision for him, appearing from behind an adjacent container and hitting Hao with a boot to the midsection… and then a stunner!

    The figure stands over Konchu's downed frame, Epsilon looking on and back away as the assailant lifts his hood…

    Allen Price: "That's Jason Randall! Jason Randall with Snake Eyes!!"

    Randall looks down at Konchu, and then lifts his gaze to something (or someone) off-screen. Two more figures emerge into the shot, Epsilon making a quick getaway behind a container as they lift their hoods and smile to the camera.

    Allen Price: "Reagan Cole and Aka Yurei are here!'

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Meltdown is here! And by God it looks like they're here in force!"

    Randall points off in the same vague direction as Truth disappeared earlier in the footage, and his companions lead the way out of shot.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Jason Randall directing traffic here… why isn't that cameraman following?! Why isn't he resisting?! Do your Goddamned job!!"

    We cut to elsewhere below deck, where an agitated Nate Savage and Jackson Fenix walk down a corridor. They are obviously aware of the situation at hand, given that it is happening live on the R.W.Network, and seem intent on doing something about it. They reach the door at the end of the corridor that seemingly leads out onto the deck, Jackson Fenix reaching out for the handle… which is turned from the other side, and opened at an innoportune time for Jackson. The door slams into Fenix's head and he hits the ground.

    Standing in the open doorway is Cyrus Truth and two other hooded figures. Nate Savage looks at each of them… before barreling into the Exile with a shoulder block! Cyrus stumbles backwards, but one of the other two hooded figures is quick to nail Savage with a kick to the midsection. He takes Nate by the scruff of the neck and throws him into the wall of the corridor, before pulling down his hood…

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Devin Golden, that rotten son of a gun!! He's here with Truth!"

    Jackson Fenix regained his composure and leapt on the back of the third assailant, slapping on a sleeper hold. The small and still hooded infiltrator says beneath Fenix's weight, but then manages to drive Jackson backwards and into a nearby wall. His hood falls down in the process…

    Allen Price: "Sawyer Xavier is THE THIRD MAN! How many of them are there?! How did they get here?!'

    Devin Golden is busy setting up a nearby table whilst Truth lifts Jackson up by the scruff of the neck. He hoists Fenix up in an Argentinian rack, Golden and Xavier looking on as Cyrus takes a step towards the table…

    Allen Price: "EXILE'S EDGE!! Jackson Fenix driven through the table by Chris Truth!!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Don't call his moves, Price! This is assault, not wrestling!!"

    The three infiltrators share a glance at each other before Golden turns away from the other two to head deeper into the ship. Xavier follows Truth back onto the deck…

    … but we cut away, to what amounts to Gorilla position on the ship. A sophisticated system of pulleys waits to transport the wrestlers via a rickety elevator to the stage, and currently waiting in this area of the vessel are Stu Grimes and Cornelius Aurelius Caesar.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "This seems like a sensible place for our tag team champions to patrol, containing this malignance to our backstage area on the ship. We don't need this carnage up here!!"

    It seems Grimes and Caesar agree, and the champions seem ready for a fight. They are in their ring gear, the main event still to come, and their tag team championships sit on a nearby table.

    Stu paces back and forth slightly. Cornelius remains still. Even when three figures emerge from behind a shipping container. Randall, Yurei, Cole. The Wildcard has a steel chair in hand.

    Grimes is agitated, and with a roar he charges at the interlopers. He connects with a forearm to Yurei, driving her back, but turns into Randall's chair! He gets his hands up, but the force is enough to drive him down anyway. Caesar leaps into the fray, knocking Randall back with a running knee, but Cole and Yurei are on him in an instant. Yurei hits him with a spinning kick to the gut, and Cole slams into him with a hard right hand to follow. Caesar stumbles back towards Randall, who plants him down onto the deck with a DDT!

    It's Jason Randall who approaches the tag team belts, as if perhaps he's on some sort of mandate. He picks them up and turns towards Aka and Reagan.

    Jason Randall: "Take these. For now."

    They collect one each, and the three walk away from the felled champions.

    A camera elsewhere on the ship is now following Devin Golden as he climbs up a ladder, the operator struggling to keep the lens focused on the wrestler and also negotiate the rungs. Finally, he emerges onto a corridor at the top of the ladder, the camera following him as he quickly strides down what seems to be the most luxurious section of the ship. He moves with purpose along the red carpet, eyeing the hanging chandeliers above and the numbered doors either side of him. Eventually, he arrives at two doors at the very end of the corridor. He reads the plaque on the one to the left:


    And his head turns to read the plaque on his right:


    Without a second thought, he kicks open the door to the left, and the camera follows him in to find… an empty locker room. We can see the street clothes of both Gabrielle and Kayden Knox hanging up, and two partially filled gym bags on benches, but there is no sign of any of the members of the newly formed stable. Golden is mumbling to himself, but is loud enough for the camera and audience to catch it clearly…

    Devin Golden: "Where's the fake-ass sellout champion?!"

    Golden shakes his head, frustrated, before he boots down the door to the executives' room. Unsurprisingly, he finds a similarly empty office across the hall, though instead of gym bags the objects visible are laptops, files of notes, and half-drunk bottles of whiskey.

    Devin Golden: "Executive Excellence … Version Fifty Seven … won't stay … and FIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT?!?!"

    Golden is waving his arms up into the air in a fluid, exasperated motion.

    Devin Golden: "I'M JUST ONE MAN … RABBITS!"

    He leaves this second room and returns to the corridor, where his eyes locate a ladder at the end of it with another plaque that reads 'TO HELIPAD'. He makes up his mind quickly, and begins to climb the ladder.

    We cut to elsewhere below deck, where another door on another corridor opens up… and out walks a furtive, uncertain Shawn Summers. He has his newly won Fallout Television Championship on one shoulder and his bag slung over the other. He closes his locker room door behind him, and makes as if to move towards a door marked 'EXIT' at the end of the corridor, only to find Sawyer Xavier leant up against the door, his arms folded in front of him. Summers turns around, beginning to head towards a turn at the opposite end of the corridor…

    … but that way is blocked by an old rival. Cyrus Truth waits for him there, his hands clenched at his side.

    Summers turns away from the Exile decisively, and strides over towards Xavier instead.

    Shawn Summers: "Move aside."

    Sawyer has a smile on his face, and his general demeanor is somewhat inscrutable. He and Summers share a stand-off for a couple of seconds, the only sounds their gentle breathing and the soft footfall of Cyrus Truth as he approaches behind…

    … until Sawyer Xavier stands down. Summers smiles, and then pushes out of the exit. The door quickly slams shut behind him as Truth arrives next to Sawyer. The Wayward Warrior looks at Xavier, his eyes narrowed in silent admonishment.

    A cut again and we are back with Devin Golden as he emerges at the top of another ladder. He goes through a door that leads him out onto the top of the ship's huge cabin, and we are immediately met by the loud sounds of a helicopter's blades and its engine. Golden's face drops as he turns to the vehicle, and specifically when Rupert Watkins smiles back at him from the back seat. Cal Robinson looks more perturbed, consternation evident on his visage, as Golden begins to stride towards the helicopter… only for the vehicle to take off before he can get halfway towards it.

    Devin Golden: "Run little rabbit…"

    Golden's voice is only just about loud enough for the camera to catch…

    Devin Golden: "Run along."

    The camera wheels behind Golden, keeping the chopper in sight as it grows more distant.

    One more cut to one final scene fragment, and we find ourselves in the middle of a burst of action. Reagan is seen charging into a momentarily unidentifiable wrestler with a forearm. The man falls to his knees on the decking, which is suddenly illuminated by another flare sent overhead. He looks up at his assailants: we see Phillip A. Jackson staring up into the light, and then spit blood onto the deck. He attempts to stand up but is knocked off balance by Aka Yurei with a heavy right hand, again sending him down to his knees.

    Reagan Cole walks back into the spotlight, and for a moment it looks like he's about to strike Jackson again, but a hand is placed on his shoulder. He turns to see Cyrus Truth, who nods in the direction of the camera…

    We pull back to see the cause of the interruption: Jeremy Best, Bryan Baxter, XYZ, and Men Out Of Time - who are still licking their wounds from their involvement earlier in the skirmish - stand in a line, a handful of metres across from the invading Meltdown force. Golden isn't with them, having only just missed the escaping Watkins on the hellipad. Reagan and Aka still hold the tag team championship belts at their sides.

    Allen Price: "Finally the cavalry arrives! Fallout wrestlers arriving in force at the scene!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "And they look to have this Meltdown mercenary team cornered… finally, some justice!"

    Jason Randall takes PAJ by the scruff of the neck and throws him towards the Fallout white knights. Jeremy catches Phillip, who immediately straightens up under his own weight and pushes Best away.

    The two groups stand off for a moment, nobody making the first move… until the camera does a quick pan to the left, where Uncle J.J. JAY! is sitting atop a pile of pitchforks, torches, and ammunitions.

    Uncle J.J. JAY!: "Anyone need anything?"

    Nobody responds, instead electing to continue with the silent stand-off. It looks as though Jackson is about to lunge back towards the figures in black…but without warning, Jason Randall leads the retreat by leaping over an adjacent railing…

    Allen Price: "Did 'The Wildcard' just jump overboard?!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Good riddance! Hope that rat drowns for what he's done tonight!"

    Jackson has a look of confusion on his face, which only increases as - one by one - the other four Meltdown infiltrators follow Randall and leap over the railing, too. PAJ and the other Fallout stars, followed by the cameraman, move closer to the railing to inspect their fall…

    We see from over Jackson's shoulder as the camera spies another, much smaller ship in position on the other side of the railing. The five infiltrators in black are seen on the deck, along with other figures that are wearing hot pink tracksuits. In the sky above, we see the sixth and final interloper leap from the much higher hellipad, a parachute unfurling from his rucksack as he negotiates the wind and lands delicately next to his comrade upon the smaller boat's deck. Another man at the ship's helm - wearing a pink tracksuit but for his black mask, and with a midnight blue tracksuit discarded and strewn in a pile next to him - steers its course, away from the container ship and Roughs Tower, its powerful engines cutting through the current as it speeds towards the moon.

    — — — — —

    'Bad Reputation' || Adelitas Way.

    A polite round of applause emanates from the seating area as Adelitas Way plays in tonight's challengers. Moments later, Gabrielle and Kayden Knox - otherwise known as Bad Reputation - walk out onto the stage and survey the setting for their forthcoming championship challenge. They nod to one another before walking through the audience before taking their elevator down onto the main platform, where the ring awaits.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Here come two of the only wrestlers currently employed by Fallout who weren't a part of the carnage that just descended on Roughs Tower… we've just about managed to get control of things here and, as they say, the show must go on! It's time for our main event!"

    Allen Price: "And it's a fresh Bad Reputation that emerge from the Roughs Tower service elevators before entering the ring… as you mentioned, neither Gabrielle or Kayden Knox took damage in that melee, which cannot be said of the champions they're looking to dethrone."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Maybe not physically, but I'm sure that Meltdown assault took an emotional roll on Kayden and Gabrielle. Executive Excellence bleed midnight blue, Price! How can Knox and Gaby be expected to remain focussed on the task at hand when they know their brand is under attack?!"

    Gabrielle and Knox wait in the ring, loosening up in a corner whilst their theme music fades out. It's soon replaced by…

    'Legacy Of Rome' || Crusader Kings II.

    The champions walk out onto the stage to little reaction from the hand-selected audience, and with no championship belts on their person. Stu and Caesar share a glance at one another, a fist bump, and then they begin to walk towards the ring.

    Allen Price: "The same is true of Men Out Of Time, J-L… how exactly can our champions be expected to defend their belts tonight, only seconds after they were stolen from their grap?!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "The Meltdown rabble have left them with little choice, Price. The show must go on... did you not hear me say that the first time? The Fallout fans expect wrestling, and it's Stu Grimes and Cornelius Aurelius Caesar's duty, as tag team champions, to provide them with it!"

    Allen Price: "Maybe… Grimes and Caesar have always proclaimed to be fighting champions, and I'm sure they'd be the last people to ask for a deferral here tonight… but with dangerous opponents like Gabrielle and Kayden Knox circling, this might end up being a bridge too far for MOOT's Cinderella story as tag champions."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Don't be so certain, Price! Love conquers all! There is always hope! MOOT just have to believe!"

    Allen Price: "You don't sound sincere, J-L…"

    The champions have entered the ring also, and now stand across it from their challengers. The official would usually parade the championship belts around the ring at this point, but given what just occured in the previous segment he finds himself without a task to perform. Natalie Rosenberg, though, has her best smile plastered onto her face, and steps into the spotlight to make the announcements.

    Natalie Rosenberg: "Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one-fall, with a sixty minute time limit, and is for the Fallout World's Tag Team Championship! Introducing first, the challengers… at a combined weight of three hundred and ten pounds… they are a part of Executive Excellence… from Sin City, Nevada, Kayden Knox… and 'the Goddess' Gabrielle… they are… BAAAAAD…. REPUTAAAAAITIOOOOON!!!"

    Another polite cheer comes from the fans on the temporary seating platform. Knox and Gabrielle state their opponents down from across the ring as they loosen up and exchange muttered words.

    Natalie Rosenberg: "And their opponents… they are the current, reigning, and defending Fallout World's Tag Team Champions… at a combined weight of six hundred and ninety eight pounds… from inside the sacred pomerium of the glorious Roman Empire, Cornelius Aurelius Caesar… and from straight outta the past, Stu Grimes… MEN… OUT OF… TIIIIIIIIIME!"

    Some applause, but noticeably less than was given to the challengers. Stu and Caesar don't really seem to mind, and instead stare down their opponents from across the ring. They too exchange words, and eventually Stu Grimes exits the ring, allowing his partner to start things off. The same decision is made across the ring, with Gabrielle intending to start things off and Knox moving to the ring apron. The official conducts his final checks and then calls for the opening bell…

    for the Fallout World’s Tag Team Championships.
    Men Out Of Time [Stu Grimes and Cornelius Aurelius Caesar] [c] vs. Bad Reputation [Kayden Knox and Gabrielle].
    Tag Team Match.
    Caesar and Gabrielle begin to circle the ring and then come towards one another, Cornelius offering up a collar and elbow tie up. Gabrielle motions as if to reciprocate, but at the moment before contact she instead flings a boot into Cornelius' side with a stiff kick. Caesar recoils and Gabrielle sets up with a second, and then backs him up into the ropes with a trio of knife edge chops. She takes him by the wrist and throws him into the opposite set with an Irish whip, before taking him over with a jumping heel kick. Caesar quickly battles up to his feet, but Gabrielle nails him with a trip of European uppercuts to back him into her team's corner.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "There's the tag to Kayden Knox, who enters the ring and joins Gabrielle in applying a front face lock, one on either side of Caesar."

    Allen Price: "There's the double suplex, some nice tag team offense on display here already from Bad Reputation…"

    Knox takes over from where Gabrielle left off, placing Cornelius in a grounded headlock and attempting to sap some strength out of him. It looks, at first, as though he's having some success, but Caesar eventually rallies and fights up to his feet. He fires off with elbows into Knox's stomach and then wraps his arms around his waist. Cornelius looks to life Kayden up and over with a belly-to-back suplex, but Knox is able to rotate all the way through and land on his feet behind Caesar, who turns around into a big forearm strike from Knox! Cornelius stumbles towards the ropes and KK charges at him, attempting a clothesline up and over the top. The Roman ducks it, though, and hoists Knox up and over with a back body drop. Kayden lands on his feet on the apron, and when Caesar turns to face him he pulls him down throat first over the top rope. Cornelius stumbles back into the centre of the ring, and Knox springboards to the top rope…

    Allen Price: "Kayden Knox going for a springboard attack of some variety…"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "That would be a clothesline, Price… but Cornelius is waiting for it!! He creams the springboarding Knox with a standing dropkick!"

    He catches Knox flush in the face, and Kayden rolls onto the mat clutching it, allowing Caesar to go for a pin fall…

    ONE… TWO… NO!

    Kick out from Knox! Caesar drags him up to his feet in a headlock and throws him into his team's corner, where he's able to tag in Stu Grimes for the first time in the match. Stu Grimes is able to control the pace against Knox for the next couple of minutes, mostly wearing down Kayden with a series of stomps (which are limited, primarily, to stomps, chops, and big clenched rights), but Stu does occasionally break this up with power moves. We see him throw Kayden across the ring with a fallaway slam and then later a delayed vertical suplex, which earns the big man another two count and allows him to tag in Caesar.

    Cornelius enters the ring and looks to immediately turn Kayden over with a Boston crab. Knox, though, grabs Caesar by the hair and unloads on him with right hands, and then lashes out with a boot to evade the Boston crab. Caesar stumbles back into the ropes, which allows Kayden to get back up. Cornelius looks to keep up the momentum and remain in control, and charges at Knox for a shoulder block attempt… reversed by Knox! He connects with a flapjack! And then the tag to Gabrielle! She enters the ring by climbing up to the top rope, Kayden pulling Caesar up to his feet whilst the official begins a count to get the illegal man out of the ring. Knox has Cornelius in a full nelson whilst Gabrielle steadies herself on the top rope…

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Head Over Heels! Montgomery takes Caesar down with her top rope hurricanrana!"

    Allen Price: "And finally Knox vacates the ring, allowing Gabrielle to apply the cover."

    ONE… TWO… NO!

    Caesar kicks out again, and from here there's a lengthy period of dominance for the Executive Excellence pairing. Alongside a large number of strikes, we see Kayden Knox and Gabrielle work through a large amount of their grapple offense whilst rotating with frequent tags. Gabrielle hits her hangman's neckbreaker, the GaBuster (a reverse lungblower), and a springboard roundhouse kick during this stretch, whilst Knox is successful with his tornado DDT, a rolling cutter, and a backstabber, all of which are only enough to earn him near-falls.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Bad Reputation succeeded in keeping that ring divided in two, with Cornelius Aurelius Caesar on the wrong side of the dividing line. He's well and truly isolated from Stu Grimes here."

    Allen Price: "Gabrielle and Kayden Knox maybe have only teamed as a tandem once before, but they're working like a well-oiled machine here."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "No doubt… this is tag team wrestling 101. Can't argue with the strategy on display from Executive Excellence here."

    Caesar is also at the mercy of a series of submission moves during this spell, and is able to get to the ropes after extended periods in a full nelson from Knox and a single-leg Boston Crab from Gaby. As the match creeps past the ten minute mark, he finds himself in a lengthy abdominal stretch from Kayden Knox. There is gradual progress for Cornelius, who eventually begins to inch over towards the ropes. It seems that he's about to reach them… when suddenly Gabrielle jumps over the top rope and into the ring. She charges across it and knocks Stu off the apron with a shotgun dropkick!! This causes the official to give her his attention, instructing her to leave the ring… but this stops the referee seeing Cornelius with his hand on the ropes! Knox is able to drive his elbow down into Caesar's wrist to separate him from the ropes, and then he drags the Roman into the middle of the ring again!

    Allen Price: "Caesar gets to the ropes, but the official doesn't see it!! And still he finds himself sundered in the middle of the ring in that abdominal stretch!"

    Knox continues to wrench at the hold, the official close by to ask Caesar if he wants to throw in the towel. Stu, though, is enraged at being knocked from the apron by Gabrielle's dropkick, and tries to climb into the ring when he's back on his feet. The official is straight over to stop him from doing so… giving Gabrielle an opportunity to come back into the ring and join in on Caesar! She unloads with right hands to the gut whilst the Roman is still in the abdominal stretch. Eventually, Knox throws him into the mat, and the two lay into him with repeated stomps! When they sense that the official is about to turn around again, Gabrielle slaps her hands together to mimic a tag, and Knox slides out of the ring. The official eats it up as he turns around, signalling that a legal tag has been made and allowing Gabrielle to continue.

    After sapping a little more energy from Caesar with a side headlock, she throws him into the corner and tees off with a half-dozen consecutive knife edge chops. She backs away from him into the opposite set, allowing herself some time to taunt towards the camera before charging across the ring, looking for a cornered clothesline…

    … which Caesar ducks beneath! Gabrielle hits the turnbuckles chest first, and Cornelius is waiting behind her.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Et Tu, Caesar?! The Roman connects! Exactly the shift in momentum that he needed!"

    Allen Price: "But he can't follow up! He's taken too much punishment over the course of this match-up!"

    Indeed, instead the two wrestlers crawl over towards their respective corners… and both are able to make a tag! Stu climbs over the top rope as Knox jumps over on the opposite side of the ring. The wrestlers charge at one another, and Grimes takes Knox down with a shoulderblock! Kayden quickly fights up, but he eats a big boot!

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Here comes Gabrielle, charging in at Stu Grimes… big back body drop!"

    Allen Price: "Montgomery sent ten feet up into the air before free-falling back to the mat!"

    Knox is back on his feet, and he charges in at Stu once more, only to be hoisted up high above the Giant's head… and dropped with a gorilla press slam!!

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Here comes Gabrielle once again, but Stu grabs her in a single-handed choke hold. Maybe looking for a chokeslam?"

    Allen Price: "Maybe, but Gabrielle isn't the legal competitor here. Stu perhaps just wants some revenge for that dropkick!"

    Grimes is about to hoist Gabrielle up, but he notices that Knox is back on his feet as well… and so he grabs Kayden in a single-handed choke hold with his free hand!

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Is he trying to chokeslam them both?!"

    We'll never get chance to find out, as Knox is able to give Stu a stiff kick to the knee, causing some separation, and then Gabrielle takes the eyes! Stu stumbles backwards, but Knox immediately nails him with a rolling cutter!!

    Allen Price: "This referee needs to gain some control!! Gabrielle isn't making any effort to get out of the ring here."

    Indeed, she instead places Stu in a front face lock before booking his arms and dragging him to the ropes, where she drapes his feet over the middle rope. Kayden, meanwhile, sizes Stu up from another angle and backs into the ropes.

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Here it comes… CARAMEL KISS!!"

    Gabrielle drives Stu down with the double arm underhook DDT whilst Kayden simultaneously connects with a double-footed curbstomp!

    Knox with the cover…


    Winners: Kayden Knox and Gabrielle via pin fall at 13:59.

    Adelitas Way begins to sound out around Roughs Tower as Kayden Knox climbs up to his feet. Gabrielle is there with him, smiling broadly at Kayden and what they have just managed to accomplish. After a moment, Knox smiles back at her, the pairing appearing rather pleased with themselves as the official arrives to lift their hands in victory.

    Natalie Rosenberg: "Here are your winners… and the NEEEEEW Fallout World's Tag Team Champions… Kayden Knox… Gabrielle… BAD REPUTATION!"

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "The championship belts not be here for Knox and Montgomery to celebrate with, but they've done it. For the first time in Kayden Knox's career, and the fourth time in Gabrielle's, they hold the most prestigious tag team championships in professional wrestling!"

    After a brief embrace in the ring, Knox and Gabrielle go to opposite corners to celebrate on the second turnbuckle. The camera pans around them, the endless sea and night's sky in the background stretching out as far as we can see. Eventually, the pair reconvene in the middle of the ring, where Stu Grimes is just coming to…

    Allen Price: "Kayden Knox is… he's looking down at Stu Grimes with a sinister countenance… I… I'm not sure what that's about."

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Maybe Kayden would rather be celebrating right now with a belt, and he blames Grimes for that not being the case? A cogent argument could be made for that… it was MOOT that was robbed blind by the invading Meltdown force after all…"

    Kayden still looks down at Stu with a strange countenance, and then up to Gabrielle. She nods, and Knox takes this as a symbol, throwing Stu over the top rope and onto the outside. He follows him down out of the ring and proceeds to rain down on the Giant with stomps, causing Stu to retreat on his hands and knees…

    Allen Price: "Stu Grimes trying to escape from Bad Reputation, here, but he doesn't have much space to run! He's nearing the edge of the platform!!"

    Stu realised this when his hand reaches the short barricade that's erected around the outer perimeter of the main platform. He uses this fencing to pull himself up to his feet. He turns to face Bad Reputation…

    Gabrielle hits him with a savate kick, backing him right up to the railing…

    Followed by a stiff kick to the chest from Knox, chasing Stu to reach behind him and hold on to the fence…

    Gaby hits a jumping roundhouse kick, causing Stu to teeter…

    And a standing dropkick from Knox finishes the job!! Stu falls backwards over the railing!!

    Allen Price: "… OH MY GOD!"

    We watch as the big man plumetts from the platform before, after what seems like an eternity, he hits the surface of the water with a giant-sized splash!

    Jean-Luc Watkins: "Stu Grimes just fell sixty feet from the top of Roughs Tower and into the North Sea!!!!!"

    Allen Price: "We need some help… somebody call the emergency services! Somebody call the coastguard!"

    Our final view from Fallout: Rebirth is of Kayden Knox and Gabrielle standing by the railing at the edge of the platform, staring out over the dark, tumultuous sea with slight smiles on their faces.
    Last edited by Jimmy King; 07-25-2022 at 01:36 PM.

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    Meltdown XVII | One Year Anniversary Show | RESULTS

    Before the show begins, we find ourselves within the bowels of the historic Estadio Azteca and the focus of the shot is of one Jon Russnow. Despite the chaos and anarchic state of affairs within the FWA and the wider professional wrestling world due to recent events, Russnow is chipper. He walks with a spring in his step and we join him mid-conversation with someone on his cellphone.

    Jon Russnow: “That’s right, Ms. Redgrave. Everything went exactly as planned. We showed them exactly what they’re missing out on and now they’re the ones missing something, specifically those beautiful tag team titles.”

    Russnow continues to walk and he nods along to what is being said to him by Dinorah Redgrave, who is on the other end of the line.

    Jon Russnow: “Of course we are expecting some sort of response from them, Ms. Redgrave. If they can be so brazen as to secede from an entire company on the biggest show of the year then certainly they’ll want to get some payback. Rest assured, though. Every precaution has been taken and all of the necessary contingencies are in place. Nothing will go awry tonight-”

    A loud shriek is heard in the distance, followed by a loud thud, a groaning sound and a car speeding off. Russnow’s eyes widen and he stops in his tracks. A very false grin appears on his face and he talks into his phone whilst not actually moving his face.

    Jon Russnow: “Everything is absolutely fine, Ms. Redgrave! What would make you ask that? That sound? Oh, sounds like someone is having some car trouble in the parking lot. Nothing that needs to concern you… okay, bye!”

    Russnow hangs up the call and then marches towards the double doors in front of him and he opens them up, causing them to slam against the wall surrounding either side of the doorframe. He sees a collection of people in front of him all huddled around and he begins to push through them in an attempt to see what is happening.

    Jon Russnow: “Let me through! Just what is the meaning of all of this?!”

    Finally, Russnow barges through to the front of the crowd and grunts in frustration at the scene in front of him; it is the North American Champion Chris Crowe lying on the floor in a significant amount of pain. Crowe holds his knee and yells out in agony. Crazy Harry stands up and stands in front of Russnow, looking extremely flustered and concerned.

    Crazy Harry: “Russnow… we were walking through the parking lot… this car… came out of nowhere and they ran Chris down. His knee… it looks bad. This could be it for him.”

    Jon Russnow: “Did you see who it was, Harry? Was it someone from Fallout?!”

    Crazy Harry: “I couldn’t see who it was… it all happened so fast.”

    Harry returns to Chris’s side, and he holds his friend’s hand as the sound of an ambulance can be heard in the distance, slowly getting closer. Russnow’s mind begins to turn and he soon finds himself mouthing something a few times before finally saying it out loud.

    Jon Russnow: “The championship. The championship! Harry, where is the title? Did they take it?”

    Shaking his head, Harry points to the holdall bag on the floor next to Crowe. Russnow opens the bag and sees the North American Championship resting on top of the rest of Chris’s belongings. The Brand Consultant collects the championship in his arms and then backs away through the crowd as the ambulance arrives on the scene. The camera stays on the badly-hurt North American Champion before fading away…

    Live from the Estadio Azteca in Mexico City, Mexico
    July 25th, 2022
    Meltdown XVII

    Following the opening video for Meltdown, the scene shifts to the inside of the Estadio Azteca for the first time in the night. The fans are in reasonably high spirits, but there is a slightly odd air about the place. It is something intangible, but it can be best described as a sense of anticipation, but with a touch of dread mixed in as well. Despite the FWA and Meltdown being bisected at Back in Business, the resistance offered by the Meltdown wrestlers on Fallout was an indication that the FWA is not doomed and it is ready to fight for its place in the professional wrestling world.

    The fans are very pro-Meltdown, with the majority of them wearing some new pink ‘Meltdown’ shirts in line with the new colour scheme adopted by the FWA’s one remaining brand. The set remains very much the same, although what was previously orange is now a shade of hot pink, in line with the aforementioned new colour aesthetic. Fireworks shoot out from the stage and from around the large screen on top of the entrance way. Meltdown’s music continues to play as the commentators talk over the images of the arena and various fan signs.

    Rod Sterling: “We’re still here! Ladies and gentlemen, and children of all ages, welcome to Meltdown! We’re broadcasting LIVE on the WC Network, and tonight’s show is proudly brought to you by the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance. A lot of things may be changing in the world of professional wrestling, but there are a few constants; the FWA will remain the number one wrestling promotion in the world and you will always have myself and Anzu Kurosawa here to call all of the action for you. Anzu, a lot has happened in recent weeks, what do you say about all of it?”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Well Rod, if what happened last Friday was an indication of anything, it was that we are not prepared to back down from a fight. Let’s not pretend that those other guys didn’t pull our pants down and give us a good hiding at Back in Business with that stunt they pulled, but well… we all know what happened at the first opportunity we could to get ourselves a little bit of payback, don’t we?”

    Rod Sterling: “You can hide in the sea, on a private island or even on the moon, but no distance will stop the FWA and those loyal to it. We made out with the FWA World Tag Team Championships, and we will see who can lay the greatest claim to them in tonight’s main event between two very competent tag teams.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Hardcore Wrestling Alliance - the duo of Saint Sulley and Bullet Broc - take on Reagan Cole and Aka Yurei. Saint Sulley ditched Joe Burr at Back in Business in emphatic fashion, and has teamed up with his cousin in his bid to become a Grand Slam champion. Their competition tonight though has come close to winning the titles together before and they will be no pushovers as they make a second shake at teaming together.”

    Rod Sterling: “Who can forget that match they had with Golden Rock? That isn’t all we have in store tonight as Jason Randall - one of the ringleaders of the assault on Fallout, Incorporated last Friday - takes on Sawyer Xavier in an X Rules Match and there’s a blockbuster trios match too with Cyrus Truth and Devin Golden teaming up with the North American Champion Chris Crowe to take on Cthulhu’s Nephews members Gerald Grayson, Michelle von Horrowitz and the former FWA World Champion Thomas West.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Back in Business was a mixed bag for the Nephews, with West losing to Danny Toner and facilitating the secession of Fallout, Incorporated… but Michelle von Horrowitz was successful in ending the Back in Business undefeated streak of Chris Kennedy.”

    Rod Sterling: “A historic moment from a Back in Business that was filled to the brim with historic moments.”

    The fans cheer loudly as the first wrestler to make their entrance in Meltdown’s second year is none other than ‘The Rave’ Lizzie Rose. Lizzie dances out onto the stage and throws some glow sticks out to some of the fans before making her way down to the ring. She high fives and takes a couple of selfies with young fans in the front row.

    Katie-Lynn Goldsmith: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and the winner will become the number one contender for the FWA North American Championship! Introducing first, from Brooklyn, New York… she is ‘The Rave’ LIZZIEEEEE ROOOOOOOOOOOOOSEEE!!!”

    Rod Sterling: “With everything that happened at Back in Business, it is easy to forget that Lizzie Rose scored possibly one of the biggest upsets in Back in Business history when she defeated her mentor and now-defector, Gabrielle Montgomery.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “We can talk about how far Meltdown has come since this time last year, but let’s talk about how far Lizzie Rose has come in that time. From an almost complete rookie to defeating an undisputed legend of this business. She’s turned herself into a half-decent wrestler through hard work, determination and just sheer grit. You can’t fault her work ethic, Roddy!”

    Rod Sterling: “All of that hard work has paid off, though. She has been put forward for this opportunity tonight and if she does win, she’ll have the chance to get another upset if she can be the one to finally dethrone Chris Crowe and capture the North American Championship.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “If she does carry this on, we’re going to have to stop referring to her victories as ‘upsets’!”

    Rose gets into the ring and some more dancing along to her music follows. ‘The Rave’ is evidently in high spirits, but appreciative and ready for the opportunity that awaits her.

    As Johnny ‘The Legend’ Johnson makes his entrance, the atmosphere in the arena flips on its head and the crowd react very negatively to the brash and cocky Johnson. Johnson, as per usual, doesn’t care and he waves them off as he makes their way down to the ring. There does not appear to be much urgency in Johnson’s movement.

    Katie-Lynn Goldsmith: “Her opponent… from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania… weighing in two-hundred and thirty pounds… JOHNNY ‘THE LEGEND’ JOHNNNNNNSSSSSONNNNNN!!!”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Johnny Johnson was one of the challengers for Chris Crowe at Back in Business, but fell short of becoming North American Champion in that ladder match, but tonight he has the opportunity to put himself straight back into the hunt. He must have impressed Jon Russnow in that match, enough so to warrant being given another chance to face Crowe next time out.”

    Rod Sterling: “Johnson’s talent is unquestionable, and he has youth on his side which means that this probably won’t be the last time we see him in title contention here on Meltdown, whether it is for the North American Championship or whatever we decide to do for a World Championship.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “He’s not afraid to take the easy way out in his matches, either. That could put him at an advantage against the squeaky-clean Lizzie Rose, who we know does not possess a bad bone in her entire body. She’s going to have to work around that.”

    As Johnson enters the ring, he attempts to intimidate Rose but has to be kept away from his opponent by the referee in the middle of the ring and kept away from Rose’s corner. It does seem that things are about to get ready, but then attention turns to the stage where Jon Russnow has walked out. The Brand Consultant seems to be very stressed, and he wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand holding the microphone, but the most notable thing about his appearance is the North American Championship in his spare hand.

    Jon Russnow: “Wait… wait. Hold on. Before this match can start, I have a couple of announcements to make… but before that, I have a challenge to make.”

    Russnow holds his hand up as he can sense that in the ring the competitors are raring to go and do not want to listen ahead of such a big opportunity for the both of them.

    Jon Russnow: “I’m sure most of you saw what happened last Friday night. For those loyal enough to the FWA that might have missed it, let me fill you in. We showed those traitors over on Fallout that the FWA is not dead and we’re not going to take what happened in Rio lightly. We walked right into their show, kicked their asses and we took back the FWA World Tag Team Championships.”

    The fans cheer and Russnow nods his head, although some are still confused as he is in possession of an entirely different championship.

    Jon Russnow: “Now, I know what we did would result in some sort of repercussion or reaction from them and I have assured Dinorah Redgrave that I have taken every possible step to ensure that does not happen, and that the talent is unharmed and the production here on Meltdown tonight is unaffected. Unfortunately, I presume that I have failed.”

    Russnow pauses for a moment and looks down, and he then stands straight up again and exhales deeply before talking again.

    Jon Russnow: “Earlier this evening, I found Chris Crowe in the parking lot and he had been the victim of what I can assume was a hit-and-run of some sort and if my suspicions are correct, then it was Fallout that was responsible for this attack.”

    The fans boo loudly and Russnow nods in agreement.

    Jon Russnow: “In the interest of avoiding further attacks on my talent… I am issuing a challenge to Fallout, Incorporated. A chance to draw a line in the sand behind all of this. I am inviting Fallout to the FWA’s Seventeenth Anniversary Show where we can stage a series of matches to determine who is better once and for all. After that… we can all just move on in our separate ways. A match I had in mind for that show… even means extending an olive branch of sorts. We’re going to give you a chance to reclaim those tag titles that we took back from you. Bad Reputation can face whoever wins in tonight’s main event at that show and who knows? Maybe we’ll find someone who can face Danny Toner too…”

    The fans cheer at the challenge and Russnow seems more positive now.

    Jon Russnow: “That can be an issue to settle another time… back to the matter at hand. As a result of the injury sustained by Chris Crowe in that attack, I have had no choice but to strip him of the FWA North American Championship.”

    The fans boo, but in the ring, Johnny Johnson’s ears prick and he raises an eyebrow.

    Jon Russnow: “He will also not be able to participate in the Trios Match tonight, but I will speak more to that later on. What that means for the two of you in the ring, is that this match is not a number one contender’s match anymore. This match is now for the FWA North American Championship.”

    A VERY LOUD reaction for that announcement, but the fans are cut off by someone else speaking into a microphone and dragging their attention away.

    Johnny Johnson: “Russnow, let me stop you right there!”

    Johnny looks anything but pleased by what Russnow just shared with the crowd. Johnny starts to chuckle with an irritated tone. Standing before Russnow now Johnny is ready to share what’s on his mind with Russnow.

    Johnny Johnson: “Russnow, I really don’t get you. We are mere weeks separated by the events that occurred at Back in Business and here you are again trying to fuck over Meltdown."

    Russnow, obviously annoyed by Johnny’s implications, attempts to interject before Johnny cuts him off.

    Johnny Johnson: “It’s your turn to listen junior. You see Russnow, I know you are hanging on to what power you have in this company by a tiny thread. I’m pretty sure the only reason you’re even allowed to make any decisions is because the group of bimbos who sign your paycheck are too busy getting drunk off of white claws and blowing their latest scuba instructor on some beach in some far off country."

    So let me tell you this, Russnow. Because I know that you are one more fuck up away from being out on your ass and trying to turn tricks on the corner in Tijuana. There will be no North American title match tonight!”

    Russnow: “What makes you think you have any grounds to not have this match tonight? After all, what's the difference? This match was a number one contender match and now you get what you want, that much faster, a one on one FWA championship match. Frankly, the way I’m looking at it, you'd be a fool not to take the opportunity with how great your win-loss record has been since joining FWA.”

    The crowd pops for this and at the same time Johnny looks like Russnow slapped him right across the face. Johnny is mulling it over, figuring out how exactly to respond to Russnow right now.

    Johnny Johnson: “Fair enough, Russnow, fair enough. Truth is I haven’t won many matches since making my way to the FWA, but that’s what you get when the majority of your matches you’re either having to carry a senior citizen the entire time or you’re having to go against: three, four, ninety-two other people in a single match. For the majority of my time in this god forsaken place you have been in charge and what have you done exactly? You have tried your damndest to make sure Fallout was featured on my show. Tag Wars, The Bounty, and now this challenge? You have continually tried to bring the talent from outside of these doors in order to do what? Over shadow as much as the talent as you could in this place? What you were doing was ensuring exactly what happened at Back in Business, with Fallout was not only a possibility but an absolute certainty.”

    Getting a little heated Johnny begins to pace back and forth in the ring, once in a while stopping and staring at Russnow.

    Johnny Johnson: “I’m done taking direction from you. I’m done having someone with the IQ of a raccoon continue to ruin my career. So, NO there will be no North American title match tonight…..”

    The boos from the crowd completely drown out what Johnny is saying which he is completely annoyed by and starts to yell at the crowd.

    Johnny Johnson: “I don’t give a shit what you have to say! Are you really ok with what this idiot is doing!? All this guy is… is a fucking mark!”

    After a minute or two the crowd finally starts to dial the volume down and Johnny finally tails off with the insults he is slinging at some in the crowd.

    Johnny Johnson: “Listen to me Russnow. I made it well known that I wasn’t pleased with that shit match you gave me in Back in Business. I knew that my contract was coming up for renewal. I also knew that for me to get things that I wanted and deserved I was going to have to go above your head and get those things. So what I did as my one year contract expired was I signed a brand new contract with the people above you. And in that contract it states that I have full control on exactly when I get my title shots. That means that I can look at you straight in the face, much like I’m doing tonight, and tell you to shove your title match right up your ass. Those three broads in charge might be as dumb as a box of rocks but I will say they were smart enough to give me exactly what I wanted. Maybe it’s time for you to take a few notes from them.”

    The crowd’s volume starts to increase again with jeers for Johnny. Johnny just looks over at Russnow with a cocky smile, feeling like he won this battle of words. Russnow stays calm and cool though. He just looks back at Johnny and starts to nod his head.

    Russnow: “Well Johnny, I’m sure you’re feeling good right now. Truth is, I know I need to be at the top of my game right now. I know what Rupert Watkins did at Back in Business was a complete slap in my face. But you’re wrong, you’re absolutely wrong. Everything I have done was to put the talent of Meltdown in the spotlight. Everything I continue to do is to make sure Meltdown is the best damn show for the fans. If they have the balls to accept my challenge, then we will show them that we’re the best… WITH OR WITHOUT YOU!”

    The crowd erupts in cheers for Russnow.

    Russnow: “What I did tonight, turning your number one contender match into a North American title match. It was more out of necessity and respect. But not respect for you. Let’s not get that twisted. It was more out of respect for Lizzie Rose. After her victory against Gabrielle at Back in Business I felt like she out of anyone on this roster deserved a chance at wrapping a gold belt around her waist. So you might think you have some kind of power over me. Fact is, I know why you’re doing what you’re doing tonight. I know why you’re taking your ball and going home tonight. It’s because you’re afraid, Johnny. You see Lizzie is turning things around since the last time you were able to put her on the shelf for those few months. You absolutely are afraid, after seeing Lizzie take it to Gabrielle, you see she has all of the confidence it takes to kick your ass as well.”

    The cocky smile that Johnny did have has completely vanished from his face as Russnow continues to talk.

    Russnow: “Johnny, I gave you that North American title match at Back in Business… not to hold you down. You’d have to be a complete idiot to believe that. And it’s fine if you think changing tonight’s match into a title match is somehow unfair to you. The loss of Crowe gave me only one option. If you feel like you aren’t up for it and you were given the ability to turn it down for tonight I have no leg to stand on. I will tell you this, this North American title match between you and Lizzie Rose is going to happen, if not tonight then next Meltdown. You might not have been ready for it tonight, but I know for sure one person that was.”

    And with that there is a roar from the crowd. Johnny is completely unsure as to why so he starts to turn around and as he does from the top rope Lizze Rose comes flying off and nails Johnny with a drop kick. Lizzie backs up and as Johnny gets back to his feet she runs at him and takes him back down with the “Brooklyn Flash”! Lizzie gets to her feet and hops onto the second turnbuckle close by playing it up to the crowd and they answer her with a loud roar of approval.

    Anzu Kurosawa: “There’s a lot to unpack there… but LOOK AT LIZZIE ROSE GO!”

    Lizzie hops down to the mat and goes over to Johnny. Picking him up off the mat she then starts to back him up with an onslaught of European uppercuts. Once his back is up against the ropes she whips him to the far ropes. As she does Johnny slides under the bottom rope, making his way to the floor. Johnny gets to his feet with a shocked look on his face, clearly not expecting the onslaught from Lizzie.

    Furious, Johnny’s eyes finally find Lizzie and before he can make a quick escape Lizzie sprints and flips over the top rope, spinning John….NO, Johnny halts Lizzie’s momentum. With Lizzie in a hurricanrana position, Johnny then uses all the power he can muster and runs to the steel post of the ring. He ploughs Lizzie into the post and she falls to the floor with a thud.

    Rod Sterling: “Johnson turning this around on Rose, and perhaps this was unwise for Lizzie to tyr to bring the fight to him like this, if she gets hurt here then that North American Championship match could be in some serious jeopardy!”

    Johnny steps back, trying to get what breath he can back. Looking down at Lizzie Rose, Johnny then turns towards Jon Russnow. Staring daggers back at Russnow, Johnny then points at Lizzie and then drags his thumb across his throat and mouths the words, “you did this”.

    Johnny then makes his way back over to Lizzie. He picks her up by her head and grabs her by the wrist, he pulls her towards the entrance way only to pull her back and throw her back first into the side of the ring.

    She slumps down, but Johnny picks her back up and begins to lay punches into the forehead of Lizzie. As he does this he opens a slight cut and blood begins to trickle out from it. Laying a few more punches into her forehead, Johnny then turns around and throws his arms in the air in victory and the crowd lets him have it with boos and insults. The cocky smile finally returns to Johnny’s face. As he starts enjoying making Lizzie bleed he turns back around and walks back over to her.

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Oh no, this is just barbaric, Rod! Someone needs to come out here and do something about this!”

    As he has the blood has made its way down into the mouth of Lizzie. He grabs her by the head and rears back again to continue the punishment, saying his final words to Lizzie, “I’m going to bury you this time, you bitch!” But as he brings his fist forward, Lizzie spits a mouthful of blood into the eyes of Johnny.

    Rod Sterling: “An act of defiance from Lizzie Rose! Can she build on this and escape this situation?!”

    The fans roar with approval. Lizzie begins to collect herself and wipes the blood that has made it into her eyes. Seeing her target, she walks over to Johnny and lays another European uppercut to his jaw. She can then him from his head and runs towards the one ringpost. Lizzie then runs up the ringpost and fips over Johnny nailing him with the Sliced Liz!!!

    Anzu Kurosawa: “SLICED LIZ!! Lizzie got all of it, Rod!”

    The crowd goes nuts and Lizzie slowly gets to her feet. Looking down at Johnny who is knocked out she begins to walk back up the entrance ramp with arms in the air and a smile on her face.

    Anzu Kurosawa: “What a start to Meltdown! Lizzie Rose has put herself into a fantastic position to become the North American Champion when she faces Johnny Johnson next time on Meltdown, as she’s left ‘The Legend’ lying in a heap!”

    Rod Sterling: “An absolutely huge statement made by Lizzie Rose here tonight in Mexico City! That could be a preview for when these two face off. We still don’t know what Chris Crowe’s injury means for tonight’s Trios match, but we do know that Jon Russnow has issued a challenge on behalf of Meltdown - and the FWA as a whole - to Fallout for the Seventeenth Anniversary Show!”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “We don’t know when or if that challenge will be accepted, but with a night full of promising action in store… there’s only one place to find out and that is right here!”

    Lizzie is not the only one as you can see a slight smile on Jon Russnow’s face as well as the segment fades to black.

    — — — — —

    Some still shots of Back in Business are shown, specifically from the match between Saint Sulley and Joe Burr. It focuses on Burr almost defeating Sulley with his roll ups and then Sulley scoring the victory with an emphatic RKO. A voice begins to talk over the images, but it is heavily distorted and sounds almost robotic.

    ???: “Back in Business was supposed to be the night where I proved all of my doubters wrong. The main doubter being Saint Sulley. I was going to embarrass him in front of thousands of fans in the arena and the millions more watching at home. That didn’t happen.”[/COLOR][/B]

    The next images are of Sulley feigning respect to Burr after the match before turning on him and attacking him. He places Joe’s head inside of a steel chair and then hits another RKO. Burr receives medical attention as Saint Sulley watches on, ‘The Giant Killer’ coughing up blood as he lays on the mat.

    ???: “Dave went too far. One day, I will make him pay for what he did to me.”[/COLOR][/B]

    No longer on still images, the scene is now in a hospital room where Joe Burr sits upright in the bed. He has a band around his neck and he taps it a couple of times, as if to check it is working. He breathes heavily and it sounds extremely laboured. As Joe opens his mouth to speak again, it becomes clear that the robotic voice belonged to him.

    Joe Burr: “Saint Sulley crushed my larynx and severed my windpipe. I’ve been through three surgeries already, and I can only talk through this… thing.”

    Joe’s face screws up; it is evident that he is furious with the situation.

    Joe Burr: “Dave, if you’re listening… I want you to know that as soon as I can, I’m coming for you. I don’t want you to be able to look over your shoulder on a dark night in fear that it is me coming for my vengeance. Recovery is going to be long and hard, but I will recover. When I do… your legacy is the first giant that I’ll be killing!”

    With his message sent, Burr leans back in his bed and begins watching television. He puts a straw into his mouth as the scene fades away.

    — — — — —

    Katie Baxter is standing by with “The Wildcard” Jason Randall just moments before his match with Sawyer Xavier.

    Katie Baxter: “Jason Randall, last week we saw you, along with Cyrus Truth, leading the charge against Fallout. Do you care to explain your actions from last Friday at Fallout?”

    Randall slyly smirks at Katie before he gives an answer.

    Jason Randall: “It’s simple Katie, it was retaliation. They fired the first shot at the end of night 2 at Back in Business with the bullshit that Rupert Watkins and his corporate puppets pulled. It was only right for Meltdown to fire back.”

    Katie Baxter: “Do you expect any repercussions from the attack, and what do you have to say to those that try to call out your loyalty due to previous statements you made about Meltdown?”

    Jason Randall: “Of course I expect them to retaliate, and I’ll be ready. As for what I said in regards to this brand, that’s just people trying to twist my words. I told Russnow that my match with Alyster Black wasn’t for the brand and that it was for me, that’s all that was. I was absent during the initial draft, but ever since I’ve been back I’ve been on Meltdown and I feel a loyalty to this brand. You don’t have to worry about me and where I stand, I will fight for this brand.”

    — — — — —

    “Go to Sleep” starts to boom out of the sound system and echoes throughout the stadium as Randall leaves the interview area, and as soon as the opening lyrics begin, Jason Randall walks out on stage. A great ovation from the crowd for The Wildcard, and Randall nods at the respect he’s being shown before briskly walking down to the ring.

    Katie Lynn-Goldsmith: “The next contest is set for one fall and it is an X Rules match! Making his way down to the ring, from San Diego, California and weighing in at 234 lb, he is “The Wildcard”...Jason Randall!”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “An X Rules match definitely favors Randall, a former X-Champion and a man that is known for reveling in extreme situations.”

    Rod Sterling: “That’s right, Anzu, this is right up his alley. After suffering another disappointing setback at Back in Business where he failed to capture the North American Championship, he’ll be in no mood to mess around and he’ll be looking to dish out some punishment.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “He’s also coming off another loss at a non FWA event where he stepped up to challenge the now fired Alyster Black for the X-Championship. Two grueling back to back championship matches where he came up short, and as disheartening that may be for some, it doesn’t appear to have any effect on Randall.”

    Rod Sterling: “We’d be remiss if we didn’t also bring up him being part of the group that led an attack on Fallout last week, as he already mentioned in that interview with Katie Baxter.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Randall showed initiative and took action by leading the charge along with Cyrus Truth. He’s spoken about wanting to bring back that killer instinct, that edge that he’s been missing, and he certainly showed that at Fallout. For his sake though, I hope he can continue that mean streak with Sawyer Xavier.”

    Randall is in the ring with referee “Big & Mean” Matthew Dean, and Randall removes his jacket while he paces around the ring.

    “No Glory” now plays out with a mixed reception for the young superstar Sawyer Xavier, who makes his way out without any fanfare or posturing for the crowd.

    Katie Lynn-Goldsmith: “and his opponent, from Savannah, Georgia and weighing in at 176 lb, Sawyer Xavier!”

    Rod Sterling: “Xavier is a young man with a streak of bad luck, and a bit of a chip on his shoulder as of late.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “There’s rumors swirling about that he’s unhappy with his current position in the company, and he feels like his talents have been overlooked in favor of other top acts.”

    Rod Sterling: “He’s rubbed some people the wrong way with his feelings, and he certainly didn't help matters when he allowed Shawn Summers to escape during the attack on Fallout last week.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Regardless of that, he has a tough test ahead of him tonight with The Wildcard."

    Xavier is in the ring now and he removes his entrance gear before tossing it at the referee. Matthew Dean, known for not tolerating any nonsense, warns Xavier not to push his luck but Xavier ignores that and turns to Randall as Dean calls for the bell.






    Straight out of the gate, Xavier charges in at Randall like he was shot out of a cannon and connects with a shotgun dropkick! The dropkick knocks back a few steps back into his corner and just as he’s trying to collect himself, Xavier comes from out of nowhere again and hits a monkey flip on The Wildcard! Randall is launched halfway across the ring and lands hard in the center of the ring on the canvas!

    Rod Sterling: “I think it’s safe to say that Randall was not expecting this from Sawyer Xavier, or at least he wasn’t expecting how this match would start off.”

    Randall rises up to one knee but he’s knocked backward to the mat after getting drilled with a basement dropkick from Xavier! Xavier doesn’t miss a beat as he tosses Randall into a corner and he comes charging in at Randall with a corner clothesline, but he’s stopped dead in his tracks with a back elbow from Randall! Xavier backtracks a few steps, briefly stunned, but he goes in for the attack again yet he’s blocked by Randall with another elbow straight to the jaw and Randall quickly follows that up with a knee to the midsection before pushing Xavier into the corner. Randall begins to unload on Xavier in the corner with multiple forearm smashes and then Randall motions for the crowd to quiet down while holding Xavier back, and Randall lands a stiff open palm strike right across Xavier’s chest!

    Rod Sterling: “He’ll be feeling that one for days!”

    Xavier clutches at his chest, wincing in agony and Randall holds him back and lands another stiff open palm strike right across Xavier’s chest! The sound echoes throughout the stadium. Randall continues his offensive with mudhole stomps to Xavier in the corner and once he finishes that he exits the ring and retrieves a trash can from underneath the ring filled with several tools of destruction.

    Anzu Kurosawa: “The Wildcard looks like a child in a candy store with the way he’s admiring those weapons!”

    Rod Sterling: “I can bet you that Sawyer Xavier doesn’t share that same enthusiasm!”

    Randall retrieves a singapore cane from the can and re-enters the ring while brandishing the weapon, and just Xavier is rising up while remaining in the corner, The Wildcard swings for the fences and lands a clean shot to the ribs! Xavier drops to the mat in an instant, clutching at his midsection, and like a madman, Randall wildly swings the cane repeatedly across Xavier’s body until it breaks! Randall looks slightly deflated about his toy breaking in two, but he shrugs and tosses one piece aside while keeping the other piece and he uses that to choke out Xavier in a chin lock position! Randall keeps the hold locked in until he feels as though Xavier has had enough of that. Randall exits the ring to look for more goodies, and he can’t decide so he tosses the whole thing inside the ring and the weapons scatter across the ring. Randall retrieves a steel chair as well and brings back inside the ring with him but he sets that aside and grabs the trash can and as he brings that high above his head he’s kicked right in the gut before he can bring it down across Xavier’s head! Another kick to the gut and Randall drops the trash can behind him as he doubles over, and Xavier sends Randall to the ropes and on the rebound he catches Randall with an overhead back body drop that sends The Wildcard crashing spine first across the trash can! Xavier takes Randall up in front facelock before transitioning him in position and lands a smooth looking sunset flip powerbomb to Randall on top of the steel chair! Xavier follows that up with a pin attempt!


    Anzu Kurosawa: “The Wildcard stays alive but he has to be feeling the effects of not only that trash can but the steel chair.”

    Xavier mounts Randall and lays in on him with some punches before running across the ropes and landing a lionsault on top of Randall! Randall rolls on his side, trying his best to recover while Xavier exits the ring and Xavier finds several more steel chairs and he starts tossing them all in the ring until there’s a large pile of steel chairs inside the ring. Sawyer drags Randall up into a front facelock and then has him in a position for a suplex onto the steel chairs, but Randall blocks the attempt. Xavier tries again but it’s blocked by Randall, and this time Randall uses his free hand to drive some forearm shots to Xavier’s kidneys before countering with an X-plex to Xavier right on top of the pile of steel chairs!

    Rod Sterling: “I had a feeling that bringing in all those chairs would come back to haunt Xavier! I bet he’s wishing he hadn’t introduced those to the match!”

    Xavier is writhing on top of the chairs but Randall isn’t done yet as he takes Xavier by the wrist and hits a saito suplex onto the steel chairs! This time Randall goes for the pin…


    Randall doesn’t waste any time locking in the bulldog choke on Xavier while still on the pile of chairs, but Randall can’t get it all locked in and Xavier manages to turn it around on The Wildcard and counters with a backsliding pin!


    Randall kicks out with authority and pops back up to his feet just as Xavier is getting to his feet, and Randall goes for the Deuces Wild but Xavier spins out of it behind Randall and shoves Randall to the ropes but Randall hangs on and drops outside landing on his feet. Before he has anytime to recover, Xavier lands a tope suicide on Randall before tossing him back inside. Xavier has something on his mind as he’s about to hit a springboard anything, but Randall stops him dead in his tracks and drags him through the middle rope and plants him face first with a DDT!

    Randall goes back outside and tosses a small bag into the ring and then finds some barbed wire underneath the ring. Randall looks at the barbed wire with ill intentions floating through his mind as he wears a twisted grin and he begins to wrap the barbed wire around his wrist, not even caring about his own well-being as some of the wire rips at his skin. He re-enters the ring and he drags Xavier into the corner and mounts Xavier and does the ten punch countdown with the fans counting along and on the final punch, Randall begins to dig into Xavier’s skin with the barbed wire as Xavier howls out in pain.

    Rod Sterling: “Randall is a sick individual but I’m sure as hell glad he’s on our side here on Meltdown!”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “He’s reveling in this, Rod. He’s starting to show signs of his old self and he’s feeding off the energy of the fans that are showing him support.”

    Randall hops off of Xavier, who tries to get away and cover his face from another attack, but Randall isn’t through yet as he goes for another strike only for it to be blocked by Xavier and Xavier boots Randall right in the stomach! Xavier then forces Randall’s barbed wire hand near his forehead and starts grating across Randall’s forehead, blood starts to trickle from Randall’s head! Randall finally puts a stop to this with a boot to the midsection! Xavier doubles over and Randall clubs him down until Xavier on one knee. Randall wipes some of his blood away and smears some of it across his chest. Randall takes the small bag from earlier and dumps out the contents and millions of thumbtacks fall to the mat.

    Randall takes Sawyer in a powerbomb position and as he brings him up, Xavier starts to fight back with punches, giving it all he has and it’s enough to stun Randall and Xavier counters with a frankensteiner to Randall on top of the thumbtacks! Xavier isn’t finished yet though as he scales the top rope and leaps off…5-star frog splash to Randall on the thumbtacks! Xavier hooks the far leg…


    Randall is writhing in agony on the mat as his back is littered with thumbtacks piercing his skin. Xavier is feeling some effects from that frog splash, but he does his best to shake it off to remain in the driver’s seat and he proceeds to ascend to the top rope where he’s perched, lying in wait as The Wildcard is struggling to his feet despite being covered in thumbtacks and Xavier leaps off the top and attempts a hurricanrana but he’s caught by Randall. The Wildcard is looking to turn this one around as it looks like he’s thinking of planting Xavier on top of those thumbtacks with a powerbomb, but Xavier is doing his best to fight out of it as he drives forearm after forearm down on Randall and he manages to connect with the hurricanrana! He didn’t get all of it though as Randall is stumbling forward, but he manages to keep his balance and he catches himself on the ropes and just as Randall turns around he’s planted with a springboard cutter by Xavier! Xavier isn’t through with that though as he climbs to the top once more…phoenix splash! He hooks the leg again…


    Anzu Kurosawa: “Sawyer Xavier giving it his all! He’s throwing everything he has at The Wildcard but it just hasn’t been enough!”

    Rod Sterling: “Randall has that never say die attitude and it’s on full display right now! I understand that Xavier is frustrated but he can’t let that cloud his judgment!”

    Xavier is clearly frustrated and rightfully so, but he does his best to remain focused as he waits for Randall to rise up and Randall is on his knees as Xavier goes for the Brain Squasher but The Wildcard instinctively ducks underneath to avoid disaster! Xavier stops himself at the ropes and turns around into a boot from Randall, but Xavier catches it only for Randall to shove Xavier backward with his boot and Xavier bounces off the ropes…Wildcard Special!

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Randall with The Wildcard Special! That pop-up over the shoulder back-to-belly piledriver stops Xavier’s momentum!”

    Rod Sterling: “Now can Randall capitalize on his own momentum that the tide has shifted in his favor?”

    Randall is feeling it now, he’s fired up now as Xavier is groggily rising up…Snake Eyes! Stunner from Randall to Xavier! He makes the cover!


    Winner: Jason Randall by Pin Fall

    Katie Lynn-Goldsmith: “The winner of the match, Jason Randall!”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “A hard fought victory for The Wildcard, but you have to admire the effort that was put forward by Sawyer Xavier in this matchup, Rod.”

    Rod Sterling: “He certainly hung in there as best he could and gave it his all, but in the end it’s The Wildcard that prevails.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “He was looking to prove himself tonight, and I feel like he did that despite it not being the outcome he had hoped for.”

    Randall has his arm raised as he’s helped up and he’s about to help up his opponent, but something or someone catches his attention at ringside. This individual is cloaked so their identity is unknown as they climb up on the apron now and Randall slowly approaches them.

    Rod Sterling: “What is this all about?”

    The cloaked person suddenly tosses something into Randall's eyes, blinding him and then out of nowhere he’s jumped from behind! The person underneath the cloak reveals himself…

    Anzu Kurosawa: “It’s Konchu Hao from Fallout and that’s his companion Epsilon on The Wildcard’s back!”

    Rod Sterling: “What is he doing here?! What in the hell did he just toss in Randall’s eyes?!”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Baba Vanga’s Illumination!”

    Rod Sterling: “What does that even mean?!”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “It’s pocket sand, that’s what he blinded Randall with! I assume he’s here to exact some revenge after Randall targeted him last week on Fallout!”

    Rod Sterling: “Get this scum out of here! Where is security?!”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Randall did mention he expected retaliation from Fallout but maybe he didn’t expect it so soon!”

    Randall does his best to shake off Epsilon, who had been on his back and he tries to get the sand out of his eyes as he stumbles around the ring but Konchu tackles him to the mat and the two men tumble around the ring. Meanwhile, Sawyer Xavier watches this happen and angrily leaves the ring without looking back.

    Rod Sterling: “Where is Sawyer Xavier going?! Help your Meltdown brethren!”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Xavier clearly still upset over the loss and he wants nothing to do with helping out Randall!”

    Randall and Konchu are fighting through the crowd now as Epsilon scurries along behind them to keep up, and Randall snatches a drink from a fan and uses it to flush out his eyes. He doesn’t get to enjoy relief for long though as Konchu drills him with a forearm and the two continue to battle through the crowd and the arena as the show cuts to a commercial break.

    — — — — —

    The crowd goes nuts as a familiar tune begins to play throughout the arena. It's the theme of the beloved Grandma Ethel! The cameras pan through the excited crowd, and specifically zoom in on one crowd sign that reads "I love Grandma's Cookies!".

    The 83 year old Ethel slowly begins to come out at the top of the ramp, pushing her walker the entire way. She's wearing her signature bathrobe along with some white slippers that look very comfortable.

    The crowd is giving her a standing ovation as she slowly pushes her walker down to the ring.

    Everyone in the entire arena is excited to see Grandma.

    Ethel makes it to the ring, where she has some assistance from a ringside attendant getting up the steel steps and through the ropes.

    She's handed a microphone, but she can't quite talk yet as the crowd is still going crazy with cheers.

    "Grandma! Grandma! Grandma!" they chant.

    Ethel smiles, a tear going down her face from pride.

    Grandma Ethel: “Hello all my grandchildren!”

    Grandma Ethel has a huge smile on her face as the crowd continues to cheer for her.

    Grandma Ethel: “Grandma loves all of you. She really does.”

    The crowd just won't die down.

    "You still got it! You Still Got it! You Still Got It!"

    Grandma Ethel: “Thank you. Thank all of you. But, I'm sure you've all heard by now...but Grandma...her old bones are just too tired. I can only do so much knitting, so much cookie baking, and so much whooping ass… It is with deep regret, that Grandma Ethel...must announce her retirement from wrestling.”

    The crowd's cheers stop in a halt. They're absolutely stunned and heartbroken.

    Grandma Ethel: “I have wrestled in various companies for 60 years. But with the current state of the FWA, I think Grandma is finally ready to hang up her slippers. Things are just too fast paced for Grandma. It's time for me to go back to Shady Oaks Retirement home. There I can do the things I really love to bingo, and shuffleboard.”

    The camera again cuts to the crowd.

    Tears are running down their faces.

    Grandma is also crying.

    Grandma Ethel: “So, with regret, I must tell you all one last go jump in a lake!”

    The crowd goes nuts as Charlie Gracie's Fabulous yet again begins to blast through the speakers.

    But Grandma Ethel's theme plays only for a moment before it's interrupted.

    The crowd doesn't know how to react, as soon enough it's the newly reformed tag team of Saint Sulley and Bullet Broc who appear at the top of the ramp.

    Grandma Ethel looks surprised but she greets them both with a smile.

    Both Sulley and Broc storm down to the ring, perhaps to protest the retirement of Grandma Ethel.

    Saint Sulley is wearing black jeans, and a black hoodie with the words "HWA" on the front. Bullet Broc is wearing denim shorts and a black HWA t-shirt. Broc is carrying a barbed wire baseball bat in his hands, just like he used to do in the old HWA days. Meanwhile, Saint Sulley is carrying his old signature pair of brass knuckles.

    Sulley has a microphone in his other hand as both her and Broc enter the ring.

    Saint Sulley: “Grandma...Broc and I just wanted to come out and tell you...from the bottom of our hearts, we're sad to see you go.”

    Broc is looking down in the ring. He looks remorseful and uncomfortable, perhaps taking Grandma Ethel's retirement harder than anyone.

    Saint Sulley: “You know it was I who brought you into the FWA just awhile ago. I've seen your work. You are a classic. A clean traditionalist wrestler who never got her hands dirty. You never offended a soul backstage, and you always had a smile on your face...showing off those fancy dentures. Isn't that right Broc?”

    Sulley turns to Broc who grabs the microphone out of his hand.

    Bullet Broc: “That's right Sulley. She's a legend. One who will never be forgotten...but do you know what has been forgotten Sulley?”

    Saint Sulley: “What's that Broc?”

    Bullet Broc: “Hardcore wrestling.”

    Sulley nods his head and takes the Microphone from Broc.

    Saint Sulley: “You're damn right Broc. It seems like nowadays all anybody cares about are fancy tournaments, and Ciberneticos. Sure every once in awhile we'll see some fancy King of the Deathmatch tournament, but it's all just bells and whistles. What people forget is what real wrestling is. This generation of wrestling? It's all too selfish. You've got rich assholes like Watkins who do whatever they can to take the spotlight out of the ring, and onto them.”

    Broc grabs the microphone away from Sulley.

    Bullet Broc: “You've got people like Danny Toner and his rich group of friends making their own little group. Boasting about winning a world title that hasn't been defended successfully since...well you Sulley.”

    Saint Sulley takes the microphone back.

    Saint Sulley: “And you've got this disgusting Brand vs Brand warfare going on. A desperate attempt to recover from the atrocious ratings that both shows have gotten as a whole the last year. The truth is, viewership is down. Nobody wants to watch wrestling. And so what is the response from the powers that be? To have all these Fallout vs Meltdown shenanigans. And what Broc? You and I are supposed to pretend like it's spirit week at school? We're supposed to go and steal Fallout's mascot costume or something?”

    Bullet Broc takes the microphone again from Sulley.

    Bullet Broc: “That's not our style. No...because we already have a brand. A brand that you and I have been apart of long before we ever made the decision to join these ones. These two squabbling shows are not worth our time. What they represent...their mission statement, it doesn't hold water to what our brand represents… Because, Sulley, you and I? We are the Hardcore Wrestling Alliance.”

    Sulley grabs the microphone away from Broc.

    Saint Sulley: “We've always been. It's about time that we bring Hardcore back to wrestling. So screw Meltdown. And screw Fallout too...Because the only brand that Broc and I represent, is the HWA!”

    And with that, Sulley turns around and CRACKS Grandma Ethel in the face with his brass knuckles. The 83 year old woman falls straight to the ground as the entire arena is in shock and dismay. Grandma Ethel somehow isn't unconscious yet as she rolls on the floor in pain. But then, Bullet Broc takes his barbed wire baseball bat and he cracks it against her skull!

    The crowd is now booing tremendously.

    It looks as though Sulley and Broc are about to do more damage to Ethel...but's Greg! One of FWA's most hated comes out to save the day as he runs full speed into the ring. But as soon as he does, he's SMACKED in the face by Broc's baseball bat. The distraction was at least enough to get Grandma Ethel out of the ring, as she's being tended to by ring side medics.

    Meanwhile Sulley and Broc are both stomping every drop of blood out of Greg.

    Bullet Broc then picks Greg up, and Irish Whips him over the top rope and down to the floor. Saint Sulley rolls out of the ring now, and grabs a steel chair from underneath it. Greg tries to get to his feet, but as soon as he does, he's smacked in the face with the chair by Sulley! Greg falls to the floor now.

    Bullet Broc then picks up Greg, and tosses him face first into the steel steps. Greg is in pain, as Sulley and Broc continue to just ruthlessly attack him. Grandma Ethel meanwhile is having a stretcher come out her way, as a neckbrace is being placed around her neck. Sulley is stomping Greg with his all black Chuck Taylor All Stars, until Broc picks Greg up and throws him back into the ring. Sulley follows, and rips the Bell Connelly t-shirt Greg was wearing off, and throws it into the crowd.

    Greg is now laying shirtless and back first in the ring, as the two members of the Hardcore Wrestling Alliance circle around him like sharks. Broc is holding a steel chair of his own, as he lifts it up in the air and brings it down on Greg! Greg screams as Broc continues to smack him with the steel chair. Over, and over, and over again until the chair is bent beyond recognition. Meanwhile, Saint Sulley takes out a pocket knife as he stands over Greg. The crowd gasps, as surely we're not about to witness a murder.

    It's then that Sulley takes the knife, and cuts his own hand with it!

    He hands it to Broc, who does the same before tossing the knife outside of the ring. Sulley and Broc shake each other's bloody hands, before then turning towards Greg.

    With their hands bloody they begin to wipe it on Greg's chest...together writing the letters...H...W....A.

    With that the Cousins of Destruction, the Barbed Wire Bastards, the HWA Originals...whatever you want to call them, begin to finally leave their victim as they exit the ring. Greg isn't even moving at this point, and poor Grandma Ethel is being rolled away on a stretcher, as Broc and Sulley begin to walk up the ramp. The crowd is booing loudly at them.

    Sulley begins to scream at them.

    He can be heard yelling "Hardcore is back!" as the camera fades out.

    — — — — —

    We cut to the backstage area, and specifically to a large locker room where five figures are currently housed. Each of them are wearing a hot pink tracksuit, even the one that you might suspect to be wearing green, and are occupied in varying and disparate activities. Thomas West is laid on his back with his feet propped up on a nearby bench, playing paddle ball and whistling a melancholic tune. Harry the Sane Wizard is scrolling through his phone. Michelle von Horrowitz sits cross-legged in the corner, flicking through a copy of Gogol's Dead Souls and smoking a cigarette. Gerald Grayson is sitting next to Harry, and has until now been watching a screen showing the WCNetwork. He's only stopped viewing now that the images are of the room he is currently in. The fifth and final figure wears a black mask, and has been leafing through a rather large document that we will soon find out is a contract.

    This fifth figure, who resembles former Fallout star Quiet but is definitely not Quiet, finally reaches the very bottom of the very last page, and sets the tome-ish ream down next to him. He lets out an exasperated, exaggerated sigh.

    Thomas West: "Done?"

    NOT_Quiet: "!!!!."

    Harry the Sane Wizard: "About time. I had no idea that Jon Russnow was such a stickler for small print."

    Thomas West: "Because you didn't read your contract?"

    Harry the Sane Wizard: "Because I didn't read my contract."

    With eight expectant eyes on him, the masked man picks up the contract again and retrieves a pen from his pocket. With an artistic flourish, he signs his name on the front of the document.

    Thomas West: "Welcome to the team, NOT_Quiet! The Meltdown Branch expands!"

    Gerald Grayson: "You won't regret it."

    Thomas West: "And neither will we. We'll need the numbers, when Uncle makes his move."

    Dreamer looks up from her book and rolls her eyes.

    MvH: "This again?"

    Thomas West: "This again."

    NOT_Quiet: "!!! !!!'! !! !!!!, !!! !!!!!."

    MvH: "You don't know that Uncle is going to make any sort of move, tulip. In fact, I am consistently surprised by how little you do know…"

    Thomas West: "I know enough to fill every bookshelf in all the libraries you've ever pissed away an afternoon in, Dreamer, and more still. And I can offer you one certainty: Uncle always makes some sort of move."

    Harry, who has until now been occupied with his phone, finally looks up and addresses the group.

    Harry the Sane Wizard: "I've another certainty for you: only two of you are wrestling tonight."

    Thomas West: "You know, for such a prodigious young wizard, your basic numeracy skills are pretty shocking. Three of us are wrestling tonight."

    Harry the Sane Wizard: "No: two of you are wrestling tonight. Chris Crowe's crocked, crew."

    Thomas West: "Chris Crowe's crocked? Critically?"

    Harry the Sane Wizard: "A Chris Crowe critical crisis."

    Gerald Grayson: "Crikey. So… who's got the night off?"

    Thomas sets down his paddle and stands up, picking up Michelle's cigarette packet and taking three out in the process. He snaps one in half and then hides them behind his back.

    Thomas West: "Let's find out…"

    Thomas holds the trio of cigarettes out, only the filters visible and the rest of the smokes hidden by his clenched hand. Michelle takes one first, collecting a full cigarette from West's grasp, which she places back into her box. The podcast host offers them to the Daredevil, who collects one and holds up… a broken cigarette.

    Thomas West: "Looks like it's you and I, Dreamer. Sorry, Gerald, the return will have to wait…"

    As he talks, West holds up the second unbroken cigarette. He hands it back to Michelle, who lights it.

    Harry the Sane Wizard: "Time to go. We're on next. You want your crown?"

    Thomas West: "Of course! Where is it?"

    Harry the Sane Wizard: "In the box, of course."

    With a smile on his face, West retrieves a large, cardboard box from one of the open lockers. He places it on an adjacent bench, but when he opens up the lid his smile flickers and then fades away.

    NOT_Quiet: "!!!!'! !!!!!?"

    West reaches into the box and pulls out the headwear… but rather than his Crown of Thorns, he holds up a Heineken bucket hat. The Nephews cock an eyebrow in unison, and Thomas turns to address Dreamer.

    Thomas West: "Still sure about Uncle?"

    Michelle shrugs.

    MvH: "It's just a crown."

    West looks at the bucket hat, nodding his head as he regards it.

    Thomas West: "It's just a crown…"

    — — — — —

    The reaction to the twang of Roy Orbison's guitar is, as one might expect, mostly negative, but it is fair to say that there are more cheers for Dreamer here than in the run of U.S. shows before it. The boo contingent is still quite clearly in the majority in Mexico City, though, but Michelle pays it very little mind as she appears on the stage.

    Katie Lynn-Goldsmith: "Ladies and gentlemen, the following tag team contest is scheduled for one-fall, with a thirty minute time limit. Introducing first, from Rotterdam in the Netherlands and weighing in at fifty seven kilograms… 'Dreamer'... Michelle… von… HORROWITZ!"

    Rod Sterling: "What a huge Back in Business it was for MvH, defeating Chris Kennedy in a rematch from Lights Out and ending his streak at the FWA's flagship pay-per-view. And she moved to 4-0 herself at BIB with that triumph, something that I'm sure she will be aware of and want to cultivate over the next few years."

    Anzu Kurosawa: "I don't doubt that you're right, Rod, but when I spoke to Michelle earlier it seemed her attention had returned to Nephew business, and specifically the Connection. We just found out earlier that Gerald Grayson won't be competing here tonight due to the injuries sustained by Chris Crowe earlier tonight, but with the Resident Daredevil back on active duties, the pairing are targeting those FWA World Tag Team Championships. They'll have one eye on tonight's main event, I'm sure."

    Rod Sterling: "But Michelle can't look beyond this match-up, where two opponents she's faced - in both winning and losing efforts - before wait across the ring from her."

    MvH has climbed into the ring, where she takes up her regular position, sitting in a corner with her head propped up against the middle turnbuckle. Her music fades out…

    Another mixed reaction, but this time it's more positive than negative, and Thomas West appears on the stage with a smile on his face. He is wearing the Heineken bucket hat we saw him find moments earlier.

    Katie Lynn-Goldsmith: "And her tag team partner… from Everywhere and weighing in at two hundred and ninety pounds… THOMAAAAAAAAS WEST!"

    Rod Sterling: "It was a less successful Back in Business for this man, who lost the FWA World Championship to Danny Toner in Night Two's main event before suffering a heinous assault at the hands of the newly formed Executive Excellence."

    Anzu Kurosawa: "All of that disappointment, and I'm sure pent up frustration regarding the post-match events in Rio De Janeiro, will have to be put to the back of his mind. Returning to winning ways will be important for West, and I'm sure he's aware of that despite his jovial, light-hearted appearance. I like his hat!"

    West takes the Heineken bucket hat off and throws it into the crowd, where it is caught by a young girl of four or five, who puts it on with a smile. He walks over to Dreamer in the corner and begins to loosen up against the ropes, his music fading out and replaced by…

    The reaction is more whole-heartedly positive for Cyrus Truth, the audience giving The Exile a respectful ovation as he appears on the stage. He walks towards the ring with a look of solemn focus on his face.

    Katie Lynn-Goldsmith: "And their opponents… introducing first, from The Long And Winding Road, weighing in at two hundred and twenty seven pounds… 'The Exile'... Cyrus… TRUTH!!"

    Rod Sterling: "Here comes another man who faced disappointment in a championship match in Rio De Janeiro, where he failed to re-capture the FWA North American Championship in a match won by a man who he was meant to team with here tonight."

    Anzu Kurosawa: "Indeed, but the attack on Chris Crowe and the subsequent vacating of the FWA North American Championship has turned this six-man into a tag team match. Considering Crowe triumphed against Truth in Rio De Janeiro, that might not be a bad thing for team spirit on that side of the ring…"

    Truth waits at the bottom of the ramp, eyeing up Dreamer and Thomas West from outside of the ring as he waits patiently for his back-up…


    The crowd for Meltdown 17 rises to its feet for the trademark theme music in the world of the FWA. The eccentric Hall of Famer, "[/b][/color]The Rotten Gold"[/b][/color] Devin Golden, slowly emerges from the backstage with his usual attire of a black T-shirt, black jeans, long black hair and purple hair highlights that hang over the eyebrows and top row of eyelashes.

    Katie Lynn-Goldsmith: "And his partner, from New Orleans, Louisiana and weighing in at one hundred and ninety eight pounds… DEVIIIIIIN… GOOOOOLDEEEN!"

    Rod Sterling: "Well ... our former World Champion-slash-World Heavyweight Champion-slash-former World Heavyweight Champion ... on his way to the ring."

    Anzu Kurosawa: "Did you see him at Fallout? He was in the army that took it to those bastards!"

    Rod Sterling: "I wonder if he was doing that for Meltdown and FWA ... or if it was because they stole his title belt."

    Golden is smiling from ear to ear, which if you watched Back in Business XV Night 2, you'd think he'd be irksome about the events. Golden is not, though, as he slides down the ramp and toward the ring area with the top hat resting on his head. He stops next to Truth, and offers his partner a sly smile. He twirls a walking cane around with his right hand. What’s noticeable different about the self-described reigning FWA World Heavyweight Champion is that he doesn’t have the FWA World Heavyweight Championship belt.

    Rod Sterling: "We must reiterate that at no point did the FWA, or anyone in Meltdown management, consider Devin Golden to truly be a World Champion. He called himself the World Heavyweight Champion and called the World Championship lineage illegitimate. Maybe some fans agreed with him. Maybe some wrestlers. But it was never official."

    Regardless, he believed it, and he wore the belt with pride for weeks into months. Then … the World Heavyweight Championship belt was taken from him – he thought by "Disco’s Last Warrior" Chris Peacock. But, in the end, as we saw at the end of Back in Business XV, it was the newly reformed Executive Excellence under Rupert Watkins. Now it’s tucked away somewhere on Fallout, on the R.W. Network, and I don’t think Golden will ever get it back.

    Golden has a microphone in hand as his music fades out. Truth, along with his opponents, wait patiently for Golden to begin. Devin is looking out to the sea of fans awaiting his words of apparent wisdom.

    Devin Golden: "Let’s start … by talking about … the World … Heavyweight … Chaaaaaaampionshiiiiiiiiip."

    The crowd buzzes with anticipation – some even cheering – as Golden nods his head and begins pacing at the foot of the ramp. Truth is hanging back, giving his partner room to speak. He twirls the walking cane in his right hand one time around in a circle, like a clock hand making one rotation.

    Devin Golden: "Ruuuuupert Watkins … and Daaanny Tooooner … and Gaaaabrielle … and Kaaaaayden Knox … they took the championship …

    MY championship …

    From me. They stole it from me … IN ... MYYYY ... DREAM!

    The little rabbits ... stole it … from … the creaaaaaaaaaator."

    The crowd boos the foursome’s mention as Golden addresses the camera.

    Devin Golden: "It’s upsetting. Yes. I agree.

    But …"

    Golden holds up his right index finger.

    Devin Golden: "This … does not change … the faaaaaacts. And the facts … are … that … the rightful lineaaaage … is still … with me."

    The crowd allows for a cheer of Golden’s words despite the weeks and months of not getting along with 'The Rotten Gold' too well.

    Devin Golden: "Nooooooova Diamond … won an illegitimate match … and everyone after … is an illegitimate … World … Champion.

    Even Danny Toner."

    More cheers as Golden begins pacing. The camera cuts to Michelle, who is rolling her eyes, and Thomas, who is doing an impersonation of The Thinker, feigning great focus.

    Devin Golden: "I was willing … to let them do … their … thing … until I won the Golden Opportunity … briefcase.

    I was willing to let the little rabbits … play … in their illegitimate … saaaaaaaandbox. I was willing to do it … because why waaaaste tiiiiime in this place … this woooooonderful … wooooooonderful place … dealing … with every … little … itty … bitty … pesky … prooooooblem.

    This place is soooo … wonderful. I can do anything. You can do … anyyyyyything. It’s the beauty … of dreeeeams.

    But … even in dreeeeams … there is a line. And in dreams … you have to stand up … for yourself.

    Even in dreams … your subconscious … or your conscious … is making stories … and obstacles … and antagonists … for you to overcoooooome.

    They … those four … crossed a line … and messed … with me."

    Golden points his right index finger into his own chest, getting a bit sterner.

    Devin Golden: "They stepped … to me. They antagonized … me. They could have left me aloooooooooooone … and left me out of their … secession … from the union … but they … did noooooooooot."

    Golden points his right index finger into his own chest, getting a bit sterner.

    Devin Golden: "They stepped … to me. They antagonized … me. They could have left me aloooooooooooone … and left me out of their … secession … from the union … but they … did noooooooooot."

    Golden paces once more.

    Devin Golden: "So now … we have a problem. Now we have … a power-hungry rabbit clan … trying to come at … the creator. They are running around ... renting out SHIPS ... and pretending like they can just speak into existence a secession from the union. They pretend the Civil War never happened.

    So it’s time for some … defiance. For some persistence.

    For some stubbornness. And you all ... you little imaginary watchers ... watched with glee as Fallout's ship became a battlefront. But even if they think their ... THEEEEFT ... was a victory ... it was merely the first test of MY ... persistence."

    The crowd cheers as Golden offers a smirk.

    Devin Golden: "They took my World Heavyweight … Championship belt … but that doesn’t mean … I’m not …


    Golden holds his arms out as wide as possible for the ending to that proclamation.

    Devin Golden: "I’ll show you why.

    The championship belt … is a symbol … of who the best is in this … place. And that … is simply … me … when I waaaaaaaant to be.

    I prooooooved it … at Back in Busiiiiiness fourteeeeeeen … I prooooved it at Mile Hiiiiigh … and I proooooved it … at Meltdown teeeen … in the bounty. I had nothing … left to prooooove … at the end of my match … with Chris Peacock … at Back in Business.

    So the belt … is just a symbol.

    If Rupert … Watkins … and the belt-stealer Danny Tooooner … want to take my symbol … I’ll just make … a new one."

    Golden dips his hand into his pocket and reveals a folded-up piece of paper. It’s not a normal sheet of paper from a notebook but rather a large piece of construction paper. As Golden unfolds the paper, the announcers ask what Golden is up to.

    Golden finally unfolds the entire paper to reveal a sheet of construction paper that is cut out in the shape of a belt.

    Rod Sterling: "It even has the shape of a championship belt plate in the middle! I didn’t know Golden was this good at arts and crafts!"

    Anzu Kurosawa: "It needs more blood on it!"

    The crowd cheers – and a few laugh – as Golden places the sheet of paper around his waist and tucks either end into the back of his tights. The circular-shaped plate area even has a design and some writing to make it a proper "nameplate." The nameplate says:

    'The Rotten Gold' Devin Golden
    FWA World Heavyweight Champion

    Anzu Kurosawa: "It’s written in black marker! That’s how you know it’s official!"

    Devin Golden: "See? I’m the World Heavyweight Chaaaampion.

    It says so … riiiight heeeere."

    More cheers from the crowd. Truth, standing nearby, seems to be losing patience. He is leant against the adjacent barricade, his foot rhythmically tapping the ground as he awaits the conclusion of the diatribe.

    Devin Golden: "Now … second … and last … let’s talk about … what’s to come.

    It still … boooooooothers me … that the Faaaaallout Inc. crew would steal … from me.

    And … I know … it upsets … aaaaaaallllllll of youuuuu … that they would try … to steal … from the FWA.

    So … it seems … our interests … in this place … are aliiiiiiigned."

    The crowd’s mixed reaction is telling.

    Devin Golden: "You neeeeeeeed me … to be your hero? To go beeeeeeat … the belt-steeeeealer … himself?"

    Rod Sterling: "I guess it really is on Golden’s shoulders … in a way!"

    Devin Golden: "I think ... I'm alllll you got.

    'Bitter Sweet Symphony' ain't playing any time soon. 'In Dreams' ain't a hero's song."

    Quick cut to Dreamer in the ring, who lets out a little chuckle.

    Devin Golden: "It's me. It's the creator. It's the man who's been in his own dream ... for going on fourteeeeeeeeen years ... and might just know a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittle bit of how this ... plaaaaaaaaaays ...


    You saw me … on Faaaallout. You all saw ... those little rabbits ... run away. Run, run, run. Running rabbits. Even the chesssssssmaster ... running, like a king caught between two rooks. The chessmaster is playing Connect 4. And his litttttttttttle teammates ... are on tic-tac-toe.

    I won’t sit on the sidelines … after they fired the first … shot. I'm out here ... in the ring ... taaaaaaaaaalking ... to you all. My little ... fffIGMENTS ... of my imagi-NA-tion.

    At least ... I am out here. At least I have words. More than the belt-stealer can say, eh?

    So ... I know I have called you all … neurons and brain cells for the last few months.

    I mean … you all are neurons and brain cells. But … I’ll do it one more tiiiime … one more … heroic … stand …

    for … the F … W … A.

    Which means ...

    to our little ... belt-stealer ... you've got yourself a challenge. You want to be a legitimate ... World Champion?

    Come beat the World Champion. Come taaaaake ... MY BELT ... FROM ...


    Golden unstraps the paper cutout of the championship and lifts it into the air -- and not comedically. He believes every word he has said. "The Rotten Gold" lowers the belt and loops it around his waist like before.

    Golden drops the microphone while holding his black cane upside-down and pointed into the air. "The Rotten Gold" then looks across at Truth with the paper cutout of a championship belt around his waist still. It looks rather silly, but the crowd is firmly behind his efforts to defy anything and everything Rupert Watkins and his Executive Excellence crew are doing to him and the rest of the FWA.

    Rod Sterling: "There's our answer! Not only is Golden still calling himself the World Heavyweight Champion and still sporting a ... I guess we have to call it a championship belt, using the most lenient of definitions ... but we also have HIS word. Devin Golden is going to FIGHT for Meltdown and the FWA. I don't know if I like it, or if his heart is in the best place. But he might be -- considering everything he has done in his career -- the best we've got."

    Golden climbs up the steps whilst Truth hops up onto the apron. West is vacating the ring on the other side, whilst Dreamer uses the ropes to help herself up to her feet. After a lengthier discussion on the other side of the ring, it is eventually agreed upon that it will be Truth to start things off. The official makes his final checks, and then he calls for the bell…


    ("dreamer" michelle von horrowitz, & "the king of deathmatch" thomas west)



    Truth and Michelle circle the ring, and as it looks like they're about to bring it together Michelle lashes out with an attempted side kick. Truth is able to catch her boot and takes her down with a leg whip, but Dreamer is quickly up to her feet and takes Truth down with a double leg takedown. She goes for a single-leg Boston crab, but Truth lashes out with a boot to the face, kicking her away and scrambling up himself. Michelle looks for a lariat, but it's ducked beneath by Truth, who goes for a backslide…

    ONE… TWO… NO!

    Kickout from MvH, and both are up quickly. Cyrus slaps on a side headlock, and Michelle backs him up to the ropes and causes separation by throwing him off into the opposite set. When the Exile hits them, Devin reaches for a blind tag, before Dreamer is able to take him off his feet with a discus forearm. She hooks the leg, but Truth isn't the legal man, and Golden hits her with a stomp to the back of the head. He hoists her up in a front face lock, perhaps looking for the Rotten Touch, but after he lifts her she is able to slip out of the back and land behind Golden in a rear waistlock. Devin hits a pair of elbows into the side of Michelle's head before going behind into a rear waistlock of his own. Michelle stomps down hard on Golden's foot, and then Dreamer resumes her rear waistlock before bundling Golden forward into the ropes. She rolls him backwards with an O'Connor roll…

    ONE… TWO… NO!

    Kickout from Golden!

    Rod Sterling: "A furious start to this one, with Michelle going toe to toe with two men who she's very well acquainted with from her past."

    Anzu Kurosawa: "It's interesting to see her locking it up with Golden again, but part of me wishes Gerald Grayson was with her… who could forget that final of The Elite Tag Team Classic?"

    Rod Sterling: "Seems so long ago…"

    Meanwhile, Golden scrambles up and is able to catch Dreamer's attempt at a sidekick, but he's caught in the side of the head with a step up enziguri! Michelle takes him in a side headlock and drags him to her corner, where West tags in. He tees up for a few hard rights to Golden's ribs whilst Michelle has him in the headlock, and Devin collapses into a heap when Dreamer finally climbs out of the ring. Golden is picked up by West in a bearhug, and then thrown across the ring with a belly-to-belly overhead release suplex! Thomas spends a moment posing instead of going for a cover, which seems to rile Truth up on the apron, and then eventually hoists Devin up in a front face lock. He lifts him off the mat, going for a delayed vertical suplex, but after a few seconds off the ground Golden begins to kick his legs and force West off balance. Thomas drops him back down and Golden rolls him up with a fluid small package.

    ONE… TWO… NO!

    West powers out and the two scramble up, and the podcast host looks to clothesline Golden out of his boots. Golden ducks beneath it, though, and plants West on the mat with a bulldog. He lifts Thomas up and hurls him into his team's corner with an Irish whip, tagging Truth in shortly afterwards. Cyrus proceeds to stomp a mudhole into West, before eventually dragging him out of the corner in a single-hand choke hold and planting Thomas down with an STO!

    Rod Sterling: "Cyrus with Memento Mori! Showing us why he's a multiple time world champion here tonight, and again he goes for the cover…"

    ONE… TWO… NO!

    Anzu Kurosawa: "Thomas kicks out again! But the big man needs to get the momentum back on his side, or at least make a tag to Dreamer…"

    Rod Sterling: "Notice how Truth pauses before continuing, and glances up the ramp towards the stage area. I've noticed Devin Golden doing the same, earlier in the match."

    Anzu Kurosawa: "Perhaps cautious about Fallout reprisals? Some of which we've already seen tonight…"

    th collects West up and backs him into the corner with a series of knife edge chops, before Irish whipping him with force across the diagonal of the ring. West hits it chest first and bounces back towards Cyrus, who proceeds to attempt to lift him with an Argentinian rack… West is too heavy, though, and Truth can't seem to hoist him off the ground. He gives up on the attempt but maintains wrist control, and drags Thomas towards him for a clothesline attempt. West ducks it and transitions straight into a rear waistlock… German suplex! Bridges for a cover…

    ONE… TWO… NO!

    Anzu Kurosawa: "Cyrus kicks out!"

    Rod Sterling: "I don't think the Exile wants another loss to Dreamer on his record, even if the pinfall went to Thomas West. Incredible resilience on display from Cyrus Truth!"

    Thomas hoists him up and throws him into the Nephews' corner, where he tags in Michelle. Dreamer takes Truth by the wrist and Irish whips him towards West, who is waiting for the Exile with a big boot! Michelle hooks the leg straight after…

    ONE… TWO… NO!

    The Wayward Warrior is again able to kick out, and Michelle applies a grounded side headlock, which she transitions into a sleeper hold when Cyrus begins to fight up to his feet. It appears to be successfully draining the life from Truth for a while, until the Mexico City crowd - which is overwhelmingly on his side in the tussle - begins to cheer him back into the match. He gets up to his knees and then to his feet, forcing Michelle to transition out of the sleeper and back into a side headlock… but Truth is able to lift her up in an Argentinian rack, and hits her with the Exile's Edge!! Truth hooks the far leg after the neckbreaker…

    ONE… TWO… TH – NO!!

    Rod Sterling: "Michelle kicks out at the very last second, but Truth is undeterred!"

    Anzu Kurosawa: "That's right, Rod! No more glances up the ramp from Truth, he's fully focussed on the task at hand…"

    Rod Sterling: "I'm not surprised, Anzu. There's serious bad blood between this pair, and I'm certain the Wayward Warrior will relish the opportunity to put Dreamer down for three here in Mexico City…"

    Truth lifts her up to her feet by the hair and then hoists her into a fireman's carry, perhaps hoping to finish the match off with Journey's End. Michelle kicks her legs, though, and is eventually able to escape behind Truth. She hits the ropes, looking to take the turning Cyrus out with a Busaiku knee kick… but the Exile sidesteps it and puts Michelle in a full nelson… dragon suplex!! Truth hits it, and then he hooks the leg…

    ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!!

    Anzu Kurosawa: "Broken up by Thomas West! Two point nine nine nine nine nine!!"

    Rod Sterling: "But MvH was dropped right on the top of her head there! Fortunately, Cyrus is preoccupied with Thomas West, because she looks in no state to continue…"

    West starts putting the boots in on Cyrus, but he sees Devin Golden enter the ring and charging at him. Golden looks to clothesline him over the top rope, but West back body drops him instead!! Devin hits the mat on the outside!! West heads out to the apron whilst Dreamer collects Truth and throws him off the ropes with an Irish whip, allowing West to enter the ring and nail him with a COSMIC POUNCE!!!!! Cyrus is sent across the ring, and Michelle hooks the leg!

    ONE… TWO… THRE – NO!!!

    Golden enters the ring, and takes West down with something resembling a rugby tackle, landing on the pinfall attempt and breaking it up!! Devin lifts West up and dumps him unceremoniously over the top rope and to the outside… but then The Golden One turns into a discus forearm from MvH! Golden is staggered, and Michelle hits him with a Busaiku knee kick!!

    Anzu Kurosawa: "There it is! But Golden isn't the legal man!"

    Rod Sterling: "MvH better turn around! Trouble is brewing behind her!"

    Dreamer has a smile on her face as Golden rolls under the bottom rope… but doesn't notice Truth is up behind her. She turns around and is lifted up in a fireman's carry… JOURNEY'S END!!

    Truth hooks BOTH legs…


    Winners: Cyrus Truth and Devin Golden by pinfall at 10:15.

    As Michelle rolls under the bottom rope, Truth gets to his feet and tries to rouse his partner. Golden is slow to get up, so the Exile turns away from him and allows his arm to be lifted in victory by the official.

    Katie Lynn-Goldsmith: "Here are your winners… Devin Golden and Cyrus Truth!!"

    Rod Sterling: "An impressive victory tonight for Golden and Truth, both getting back to winning ways after disappointing outings in Rio De Janeiro…"

    Anzu Kurosawa: "Both have had strong words for Fallout, Incorporated, and specific members of their roster, over the past week, and this victory acts as a show of strength as the battle lines continue to be drawn…"

    There's a cheer for Truth as he stands in the middle of the ring, victorious at the end of the match. The Exile surveys the arena, and particularly the recently risen Golden, before climbing through the ropes. Devin takes his moment in victory, taking his paper championship from the ring announcer and parading it for a moment in front of the fans. Truth watches him do so as he retreats up the ramp. We fade away from the scene.

    — — — — —

    "They say that actions have consequences and to every action there is always a reaction. I think the story of my life will always be a case of negative reactions to sudden actions. I never truly wanted to be a bad person, I was just desperate and trying to find my place in this world. But now I've found a different path, a chance to do more and a chance to be so much better!"

    — — — — —

    We are now backstage at the Estadio Azteca. In front of the camera stands Katie Baxter. A second after the camera flashes on her she then digs into getting her interview on its way.

    Katie Baxter: "Welcome back to FWA Meltdown, I’m Katie Baxter and my guest at this time is none other than Johnny “The Legend” Johnson."

    Johnny steps into frame from being off camera just a second ago. Wearing his usual tailored, designer suit. He looks over at Katie Baxter with a smug look.

    Johnny Johnson: "What have I told you time after time, after time?"

    Katie looks completely confused by Johnny’s question. She usually is wise to any preference the FWA talent has during their interviews. But at this moment she’s drawing a blank on what Johnny is trying to point out. After a few seconds, it’s obvious she’s drawing a blank and Johnny scoffs at the fact.

    Johnny Johnson: "There is one, and ONLY ONE name you need to call me. That name is The Legend. It’s not that difficult, you dense plank of wood. But that’s not why I asked for these next few minutes with you. I asked you out here because after the events at this past week’s Fallout there needs to be a voice of reason. I AM going to be that voice of reason and you are going to be my instrument that I use to share it with the idiots that plague the halls of this company."

    Katie Baxter: "I’m assuming, the events you are referring to are the invasion that a few members of Meltdown decided to follow through with."

    Johnny looks over at Katie a little annoyed with her interjecting her bit, but he then looks towards the camera, wears a face of agitation and begins to be that “voice of reason”.

    Johnny Johnson: "CYRUS TRUTH, you ignorant fool. It’s clear to me that the early signs of dementia are shining bright in you. Did you really think that the right play was to invade the grounds of Fallout with the half-wits that joined you in your voyage? Did you really think you were going to get one up on Rupert Watkins and his wrestlers going in half cocked like you did? Yes I did hear your recent war cry. Shouting to the heavens, trying to ensure that everyone on this Meltdown roster would hear you. Not only would they hear you but it would make them believe they needed to take action, pick-up arms with you and attack the foe that is Fallout."

    [FONT=Arial]"It’s embarrassing to see that anyone actually believed your little call to arms was anything but Cyrus Truth trying to pet his own ego. The three fools that joined you in taking action against Fallout should be ashamed of themselves and honestly probably should be put down like Old Yeller on the mere fact that they clearly can’t form anything in the form of an intelligent thought. You wanted to scream your ra-ra speech, labeling anyone and everyone on Meltdown a scared bitch, in order to tickle their little ball sack and get those macho feelings they hide most of the time because of some daddy issues they had since they were a little brat. The main reason why, in order for the spotlight to be back on Cyrus Truth. That right there is the truth isn’t it Cyrus? You can’t stand not being in the spotlight. You want to act like you have no issues staying in the shadows until the time is right. But the fact of the matter is, you need that spotlight. Not only do you need the spotlight, you need to feel like your spotlight is the biggest amongst all of the stars in Meltdown. That is why right now I will divert my qualms from you to the rest of the Meltdown roster."

    Johnny takes a deep breath and licks his lips as he gets ready for the next part of his speech.

    Johnny Johnson: "Are you fucking idiots?! Did Rupert Watkins get one over on FWA? Absolutely. But you have to have a brain the size of a rodent in order to think that this fight has to do with you. Rupert Watkins didn’t attack you. Did he attack Cyrus Truth? NO! Did he attack Reagan Cole? Absolutely not. Rupert Watkins had his chosen franchise player holding the FWA World Heavyweight Championship belt high above his head. He held all the power and guess what? What he did was necessary. That night there obviously was a chance for Rupert to gain all the power by Danny Toner winning that championship. Knowing that Rupert also knew it was finally the opportunity he dreamt of this entire year. To rid himself of the dead weight of Jon Russnow. Rupert saw over and over that Russnow was as incompetent as one comes. He saw that in order for his talent to have the spotlight they deserved they needed to be far from the reach of Jon Russnow using them."

    "You jackasses falling for Cyrus Truth’s rhetoric and thinking Watkins and Fallout are the enemy. You should be ashamed of yourselves. Our enemy is not them. Right now it’s a wolf in sheep's clothing and Jon Russnow is that big bad wolf that the rest of you need to fear. That is why right here, right now, The Legend is declaring a firm stance of neutrality. I will not follow Cyrus Truth, not even for a moment. I will not throw my hat in the mix and battle with the fools like Reagan Cole and Jason Randall. For those that are still on the fence and thinking that this battle against Rupert Watkins and Fallout is necessary. Look at Cyrus Truth, he is nothing but a charlatan. Do not follow him. DO NOT believe what he did this past week on Fallout was anything but a way for Cyrus Truth to grab some spotlight on the shoulders of others."

    "Cyrus Truth believes what he said in his rant this past week was a display of strength and the one thing he could do in order to have Meltdown succeed over Fallout. I believe that his little, ill-tempered, toddler-like fit is going to be the very reason FWA Meltdown will be under the very thumb of Rupert Watkins very, very soon! That is why I will not join in on this outfit of fools. I will not battle Fallout. I will do what I need to do here on Meltdown. I will go out there tonight and beat the hell out of the skin and bones frame of Lizzie Rose. I’ll enjoy that ass beating very thoroughly. I will not invade Fallout, I have no need to. While Cyrus Truth and his band of merry misfits fail at the goal they believe is the truth. I will be here becoming the North American Champion. Battling whoever I need to after that, acquiring the gold I deserve in the way of that championship belt and all the while there is one guarantee. That guarantee is, as people watch my great climax, they’ll have no other choice but to say, “it's just legendary!”

    With that Johnny uses his one arm to push the mic out of his way and walks off the view of the camera and the screen fades to the next segment.

    — — — — —

    Backstage, Sawyer Xavier slowly walks one of the corridors, and he’s clearly frustrated about his defeat to Jason Randall earlier tonight. He shuffles his feet across the floor and he is only taken out of his isolation by the sound of someone shouting his name from further down the corridor.

    ???: “HEY! XAVIER!”

    Sawyer turns around to see who the angry voice belonged to, and finds Cyrus Truth immediately up in his grill. Truth grabs Xavier by the collar and pushes him against a nearby wall.

    Cyrus Truth: “What the fuck do you think you’re playing at, kid? This thing is turning into a war and you need to step the fuck up!”

    There is no answer from Xavier, who gives off a vibe of not caring whatsoever.

    Cyrus Truth: “On Fallout, you get a pass for letting Shawn Summers go without a fight. You got nervous, it happens. But out there tonight? When you just stood by and watched when they came to OUR show and took out one of US? I can’t let that one go.”

    Sawyer Xavier: “I-”

    Cyrus Truth: “I don’t want to hear it! Now, you’re either with us or against us, kid. So buckle the fuck up, else me and you are going to have a serious problem, you got that, kid?”

    There seems to be an understanding of sorts from Xavier, who nods his head but avoids direct eye contact with Cyrus. Truth motions with his head for Xavier to leave and lets him go and Sawyer doesn’t need a second invitation to take his leave.

    On his own now, Cyrus shakes his head in the direction that Xavier walked away in and he then looks to carry on down the corridor… BUT TWO FIGURES APPROACH CYRUS FROM BEHIND AND TACKLE HIM TO THE GROUND!!

    The two hooded figures stomp away on Truth and then pick him up and send him into a production crate! Truth holds his shoulder and gets back up to his feet… BUT ONE OF THE FIGURES FLOORS HIM WITH A SUPERKICK!!! Truth falls flat onto the floor and the two assailants bend down over him and then remove their hoods and balaclavas… AND REVEAL THEMSELVES AS THE UNDISPUTED ALLIANCE!!!

    Jackson Fenix and Nate Savage - of Fallout - are here in Mexico City! Both of them share a laugh and then a fist bump before rising to their feet and leaving the scene. The camera lingers on a downed Cyrus Truth for a moment… until it pans further down the corridor… where Sawyer Xavier slinks around a corner and out of sight.

    — — — — —

    Meltdown cuts to the backstage area where viewers are greeted by a split-screen of the competitors of the show’s main event, the team of Reagan Cole and Aka Yurei on the right, on the left is the Hardcore Wrestling Alliance, and in between them is Meltdown’s backstage interviewer, Katie Baxter.

    Katie Baxter: “Good evening everyone, I’m standing by with the competitors for tonight’s main event. We're going to see the team of the Hardcore Wrestling Alliance face off against Reagan Cole and Aka Yurei. So let me ask first...the Hardcore Wrestling Alliance. Bullet Broc and Saint Sulley...wh-”

    Saint Sulley cuts her off.

    Saint Sulley: “Bullet Broc and I? We're not fighting for Meltdown tonight. We're not fighting for Fallout either. We're sick of the squabbling. We're sick of the egos. We're sick of everyone putting half the effort in. Broc and I are representing what wrestling used to be like for us. Hardcore.”

    Bullet Broc: “When Sulley and I first started, it was in our own company...a little company called the Hardcore Wrestling Alliance. That's who we represent.”

    Saint Sulley: “Reagan and Aka? They're not a team. They're two random scrubs thrown together because that's all Meltdown has left.”

    Bullet Broc: “Lucky for them, this match still has rules. But win or lose, when that bell rings they better watch their back. Everyone saw what we did earlier tonight. That was just the first message of many to come.”

    Saint Sulley: “Broc and I aren't messing around. Hardocore is back. We're the Cousins of Destruction.”

    Bullet Broc: “We're the barbed wire bastards…”

    Saint Sulley: “The Kings of Hardcore.”

    Bullet Broc: “The Men with 412 cuts.”

    Saint Sulley: “The HWA ORIGINALS! Tonight, win or lose, we will bleed in that ring.”

    Bullet Broc: “And our blood on that white canvas will be our mark. You're all warned.”

    Katie looks a little disturbed as Broc and Sulley both stand there with evil smirks on their faces.

    Katie Baxter: “Well, alright then. Reagan, you have a response to that?”

    Reagan Cole: “…Sorry Katie, we were just waiting for another five catchphrases before it was our turn. 412 Cuts, huh? I think I have more than that from BIB alone if we’re being perfectly honest.”

    Aka Yurei: "You boys think you're so cute, so hardcore. You are gonna go out there with the hopes the fans are gonna chant and scream 'they're hardcore! They're hardcore!' Well, let's get one thing straight. You're not the be all end all of hardcore wrestling, and never have been. I mean, look at the both of you... it's sad really. Sully, you used to be a world champion, but where are you now? You're fighting me and Reagan in a God damn tag match. Not to mention, where were you two when we invaded Fallout, and took these babies back?"

    Aka Yurei raises her arms from out of shot and shows off one half of the FWA World Tag Team Championship. There's a small smirk on her face. And at the same time Reagan brings in his FWA Tag Team Championship, proudly on his shoulder as he takes a long breath.

    Reagan Cole: “Yeah….I feel like this needs an explanation because I would be lying if I said this is how I wanted to win this prestigious championship. But we were informed that since Men Out of The Time left the company, the titles were vacant so the logical solution was to give it to the last people who fought for them. That sounds fair except Konchu and Epsilon, love ya guys, Team Ramon forever but you also aren’t here so they went back again. Stocke Market! Great! except…Where are they right now? I don’t know. Back again. We go to the previous champions Golden Rock! One of them is still here! Except Golden didn’t want it because he still wants the world championship. Understandable. That leads the story…to us. The challengers for the tag championships before MOOT took them. And as you can see….”

    Reagan taps the Championship with a proud smile, really relishing in the moment.

    Reagan: “It went well. But also….To be a champion, you have to prove that you’re the best tag team on Meltdown and that’s what we plan on showing tonight.

    Aka Yurei: "I heard what you had to say about me and Reagan... Let me make one thing very clear. When I was in Japan at the age of fifteen, I wasn't writing in some diary. I wasn't crying about being rejected. I was living on the streets of Tokyo, busting my ass in the Taigakuro Dojo, and still trying to get the best possible education I could for myself. I felt suffering and pain like you've never experienced, either of you. More than once I thought about giving up, letting myself go, losing myself to the suffering. I didn't because I had help, and they made me realize that I believe in myself deep down. Pft, you said I was a good little school-girl, and you both act all big and bad and 'hardcore'. You two think you're the best? Well boyos, you don't have this... and since you don't have this... You aren't the best."

    Reagan Cole: “You guys chose not to be a part of this whole situation and that’s completely fine, your decision. I respect that and Broc I even respect you, Sullivan, less so but you….you’re the one that introduced me to the FWA Audience, you’re the first one to ever say the name Reagan Cole on FWA television and I appreciate you so much for that. But we all make choices. We made this one. You made the choice to go from an amazing commentator to just another one of Sulley’s lackeys that Sulley will throw in the bin when he’s done. And tonight you’re gonna find out the consequences to those actions when you’re lying down on the mat while the referee counts 1,2,3.”

    Reagan and Aka clash the tag team championships that technically belongs to the team of Gabrielle and Kayden Knox as they stand in unity against Bullet Broc and Saint Sulley.

    Katie Baxter:“Well big words from both teams but the time for talk is over….ITS TIME FOR THE MAIN EVENT!”

    — — — — —

    Following the lead in by Katie Baxter, we transfer back to the arena where the first of the two teams competing in tonight’s main event emerge from the back fresh from the interview area. The fans aren’t est pleased to see Hardcore Wrestling Alliance following their actions earlier on in the night and their words just now, but neither Saint Sulley nor Bullet Broc are at all peturbed by the negative response. Sulley slams his hands together whilst wearing his brass knuckles and Broc carries his barbed wire baseball bat over his shoulder.

    Katie-Lynn Goldsmith: “The following contest is your main event, and it is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania at a combined weight of four-hundred and thirty-five pounds… Saint Sulley and Bullet Broc… HARDCORE WRESTLING ALLIANCE!!!”

    Rod Sterling: “These two are creating something of a body count for themselves; both Grandma Ethel and Greg can be added to Joe Burr - who we saw earlier can no longer talk unassisted - to the growing list of casualties of these two. They’ll be looking to add two more to that list tonight in the forms of Reagan Cole and Aka Yurei.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Given the challenge - still unanswered - made by Jon Russnow for the Seventeenth Anniversary Show, you’ve got to think that whoever walks out victorious from this match will be best placed to represent Meltdown against Fallout’s tag team champions.”

    Rod Sterling: “I would be inclined to agree, Anzu. Given the individuals involved and the history Saint Sulley shares with both Gabrielle and Kayden Knox, Hardcore Wrestling Alliance advancing into that position could be something of a big development.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Whoever it ends up being if it does happen needs to be ready for a fight. We saw that Fallout are not afraid to strike back against us given what happened to Cyrus Truth backstage before this match.”

    Rod Sterling: “If possible, we will provide an update on the condition of Cyrus Truth by the end of this upcoming main event match. Let’s not forget that Jason Randall and Konchu Hao are still unaccounted for after their skirmish earlier on.”

    HWA both enter the ring and immediately the referee comes over to them to ask them to relinquish their weapons before the match can start. Neither of the HWA Originals are happy about doing so, but Broc sets his bat against the ring steps and Sulley places his brass knuckles on top of them.

    ‘Alone’ plays to a big cheer from the crowd and after a few seconds, Reagan Cole walks out onto the stage, with one of the FWA/Fallout World Tag Team Championships around his waist. Cole is visibly not at one hundred per cent, still wearing the fresh scars of his match at Back in Business against Jeffry Mason. Cole though seems focused, and he nods his head and waits on the stage for his tag team partner as his music fades out.

    There is another pop as Cole’s tag team partner makes her entrance and Aka Yurei saunters out from the back wearing both her mask and kimono, and she rhythmically sways along to her music. She stops next to Cole and lifts up her mask, revealing a devilish smirk which is met with a grin from Cole. Aka opens her kimono and over her wrestling gear is the other tag team championship belt. Cole offers his fist out to Aka, and she bumps it before the promising tag team walk down the ramp together, both of them focused on their opponents waiting for them in the ring.

    Katie-Lynn Goldsmith: “Their opponents… at a combined weight of three-hundred and forty-two pounds… ‘The British Apprentice’ REAGAN COLE and ‘The Crimson Ghost’ AKAAAAA YUUUUUREEEIIIIIII!!!”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “It was at Back in Business that Reagan Cole finally laid to rest the spectre that had haunted him for years in Jeffry Mason, in that unforgettable Death Match. Tonight, he teams with a ghost - ‘The Crimson Ghost’ - as together he and Aka Yurei team together for only the second time.”

    Rod Sterling: “What about that first time, though? Almost becoming the FWA World Tag Team Champions… although looking at them now, you would be forgiven for thinking that they'd already gone that one step further given the championships currently around their waists.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Whilst not officially recognised as champions, those titles are the prize from the raid of Roughs Tower last Friday. The FWA World Tag Team Championships are back where they belong and as the ones to take them from the pretenders over there, these two have claimed ownership of them.”

    Rod Sterling: “Well, if they are able to win this match tonight then they have every right to call themselves the tag team champions of the FWA!”

    Reagan and Aka both get into the ring and both climb up onto two of the turnbuckles to pose with the championships that they have taken for themselves… BUT THIS LEAVES THE DOOR OPEN FOR HWA TO JUMP THEM BOTH FROM BEHIND!!

    The music abruptly stops as Saint Sulley knocks Yurei down from the turnbuckle and she tumbles all the way down to the floor - and Bullet Broc knocks Cole down and he falls to the mat! Sulley and Broc share a nod as Saint Sulley exits the ring too and he sends Yurei into the steel ring post!! With Broc and Cole in the ring, the referee reluctantly calls for the bell!


    (saint sulley and bullet broc)



    With Cole down on the mat after being knocked from the turnbuckle, Broc lays into him with several stomps to the ribs and the head whilst he is down, which draws a further negative reaction from the crowd. Broc drops his knee across Cole’s throat and he presses it down into Cole’s windpipe. As Cole is in the ropes, Broc is forced to break his hold over Cole before a count of five, which he does. Broc tags in Saint Sulley, who is back on the apron after taking out Yurei at ringside. Sulley comes in and then does the same exact thing that Broc was doing by choking out Cole with his knee!

    Rod Sterling: “HWA are really not afraid of bending the rules, Anzu, and seeing Reagan Cole sputtering due to the actions of Saint Sulley, I am being brought back to Rio and the heinous assault that Sulley performed on Joe Burr after their match.”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Even though Saint Sulley also competed at Back in Business, I wouldn’t say that his match took anywhere near the physical toll from him that Reagan Cole’s match with Jeffry Mason would have. It makes sense that HWA have chosen to target Cole early on here. With Reagan not at one hundred per cent, they could try and squeak out a quick victory.”

    Saint Sulley grins like a Cheshire cat as he rises up from Cole with his hands up in the air to protest some sort of innocence, but he then boots Cole right in the ribs! The referee is quite stern in telling Saint Sulley to back off and allow Cole to get away from the ropes, but with the ref preoccupied with Sulley, Broc Lobster can reach through the ropes and choke Cole out further! The tactics being employed by HWA are not earning them any favour with the fans in Mexico City, who chant “YOU SUCK!” in unison towards them.

    Sulley seems amused by the chants and he cups his ears as the referee turns around, just in time to miss Broc’s illegal involvement in the match from the ring apron. The former FWA World Champion pulls Cole up from the corner and drives his knee into his midsection - another mirroring of Sulley’s attack on Joe Burr at Back in Business - and Sulley then wrings Cole’s arm and uses the momentum to pull Cole down to the mat, with Sulley almost applying a Crowbar submission on Cole. Sulley reaches out and tags in Bullet Broc, who steps through the ropes and then drops an elbow across the back of Cole’s head!

    Despite Cole being in some very early trouble due to the effective teamwork of HWA, a cheer does ring around the arena as Aka Yurei is now back on the apron and immediately she reaches out towards Cole, even though there is no chance whatsoever of him being able to reach her. Saint Sulley leaves the ring, and Broc flips Cole over onto his back and presses his shoulders down onto the mat!

    ONE… NO!

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Kick out by Reagan Cole, despite the smart choice of cover by Bullet Broc. For someone who has seen limited action in the last few years, Broc sure does look in good shape and he’s going to follow up on Reagan Cole now, pulling him up to his feet.”

    Broc does bring Cole back up to his feet but he takes him straight back down to the mat with an extremely stiff Clothesline! Cole is almost turned inside out by the strong move, but Broc declines to go for a cover this time and instead drags Cole’s body back over to the HWA corner, where he tags in Sulley once again. Broc drapes Cole against the bottom turnbuckle and Sulley slowly begins to deliver a series of stomps to strategic points on Cole’s body. The camera catches a concerned look on the face of Aka Yurei.

    Rod Sterling: “Given the last time that Aka Yurei and Reagan Cole teamed up ended unsuccessfully, and many gave Reagan Cole the blame for that defeat to Golden Rock, how do you think Aka Yurei must feel watching this? She’s helpless, and if this does carry on, HWA could end up winning this match without her even getting involved.”

    The referee once again has to remind Saint Sulley to back away from Cole in the ropes, so Sulley grabs Cole’s wrist and pulls him towards the middle of the ring. Cole folds at Sulley’s feet and Saint Sulley extends his arms and smirks out towards the fans as Cole has to use his legs to bring himself back on, having been beaten continuously since the beginning of the match. Sulley ‘kindly’ helps Cole up to his feet… but Cole takes him by surprise and traps both of his arms… and Headbutts him right between the eyes!

    The fans cheer and Sulley drops to a knee following the impact to his face, but he lunges back towards Cole, who catches him again and throws him overhead with an Exploder Suplex!! Sulley lands in a pile close to Bullet Broc, and Cole drops to his knees and reaches out towards Yurei in his corner. Bullet Broc reaches over the ropes and tags himself in from his cousin’s shoulder and Broc hauls it across the ring and cuts off Cole with another elbow drop before he can tag in ‘The Crimson Ghost’!!

    It is now Bullet Broc’s turn to taunt as he gets in Aka Yurei’s face and then talks smack to the fans and flexes his biceps as he stands over Reagan Cole.

    Rod Sterling: “It looks like Cole was about to get Aka Yurei into the match which would swing things back into their favour but Bullet Broc was too smart and too quick. Reagan Cole could be in some trouble now as Broc picks him up from the mat with ease… SPINEBUSTER!! Broc down for another cover…”

    ONE… TWO… NO!!

    The cover was broken… by AKA YUREI! Aka did not take kindly to being mocked a moment ago and as a result she came into the ring to break up the pin and save the match for her team as a result! Immediately, the referee is there to get her back out onto the apron and out of the match.

    Meanwhile, Bullet Broc has grabbed Reagan Cole from behind and has applied a Rear Naked Choke! Cole immediately looks in trouble, especially as he is trapped in the middle of the ring with the ropes and his partner well out of reach. Broc has the hold locked in very tightly, and Reagan is unable to break his grip around his neck. Aka Yurei stomps on the apron and slams her hand on the top turnbuckle next to her as a means of getting the crowd to support Reagan and help him get out of the hold.

    It seems as if the encouragement is helping Cole… as he is able to turn onto his front and get onto his knees. Somehow, Reagan Cole has found the reserves to get to his feet with a much larger man on his back! What comes up must come down and Reagan falls backwards onto Broc, with the back of Broc’s head taking the brunt of the impact, and it does the job to release Cole from the hold! Saint Sulley is still reeling from the Headbutt he took from Cole, so he is unable to stop COLE FROM REACHING FORWARD AND TAGGING IN AKA YUREI!!


    Yurei enters the ring quickly and immediately charges in towards Bullet Broc and connects with a Running Hip Attack to his face to knock him down to the mat. Aka continues forward and a big forearm knocks Saint Sulley down from the ring apron! Instead of following up on the man in the ring, Yurei has some sort of vengeance in mind for Sulley specifically, as she goes through the ropes to the outside as well and grabs Sulley… and sends him careening into the steel steps! Aka points and laughs at Sulley as he holds his shoulder on the floor outside of the ring.

    Entering the ring once again, Yurei goes to follow up on Bullet Broc, but Broc runs through her with a big Clothesline! Broc, weighing over twice Aka’s weight, absolutely bodies ‘The Crimson Ghost’... and now he is clearly angry about being taken down by her before and he lifts her from the mat by the neck and slams her back down! The fans are back to booing as Broc has taken the wind out of Yurei’s hot tag within a couple of minutes and he then sends her into the corner.

    Broc charges in and looks to crush Yurei against the turnbuckle, but Aka moves out of the way at the last second - the comeback is not off the cards just yet! Broc turns around and Yurei kicks up high and connects with a Roundhouse kick to the side of the head! Broc is staggered and Yurei sees that Reagan Cole is back on the apron so she tags him back in and then climbs up onto the top rope herself. Bullet Broc turns around and Yurei leaps from the top rope and hits a Diving Dropkick straight to his chest!


    Anzu Kurosawa: “RHINO’S RAGE! THIS COULD BE IT!”

    Cole flips Broc onto his back and then pulls one of the large legs up for the pin!

    ONE… TWO… THR-NO!!

    THIS TIME SAINT SULLEY BREAKS UP THE PIN! It was a last-second effort from Sulley, who knocked Cole from on top of his cousin to break things up just before three. Even though not legal, Aka Yurei reenters the ring to combat Sulley’s presence before he can do any more damage to her partner. At this point, the referee has given up on trying to keep control of the match as both teams are desperate to get at each other. Aka tackles Sulley into the corner and starts tagging him with several strikes, but Sulley is able to block them and use his brawling expertise to connect with a stiff forearm of his own.

    Sulley uses this chance to grab Yurei and he takes her over with a Vertical Suplex! Sulley then rolls his hips and attempts to take Aka up for another, but before he can even get the second river, Reagan Cole gets Yurei out of harm’s way and then punches Sulley in the midsection and takes him over for a Suplex! Cole gets up, favouring his own back after delivering the move, but he’s in the path of Bullet Broc… WHO EMPHATICALLY SUPLEXES REAGAN TO THE MAT!

    Anzu Kurosawa: “Anyone else want a Suplex?! Things are seriously breaking down here, Rod!”

    Broc stands up tall after hitting the move but Aka Yurei is back up and she attempts a Suplex of her own on the much larger man, but Broc stands tall and shakes his head. He lifts Yurei up, but she slides down his back and shoves him forward… and Broc has to put on the brakes to stop himself colliding with his own cousin! Sulley is stunned… but then eats another Headbutt from Reagan Cole! This knocks Sulley down to the mat and he rolls under the bottom rope to the floor.


    This is enough to take Broc down, but he seems to be getting up… so YUREI CHARGES THE ROPES HERSELF AND HITS BROC WITH THE LIVING END!! Broc is finally down on his back and now Cole jumps on top of him and Yurei on top of Cole - they’ve stacked up on top of him!!

    ONE… TWO… THREE!!!

    [B]Winne[COLOR=BLACK]Rod Sterling: Reagan Cole and Aka Yurei by Pin Fall

    The crowd cheers for the quick finish to the match and the overwhelming of HWA, after the less popular team had dominated for a long stretch of the match. Cole and Yurei quickly dash out from the ring and have their arms raised by the referee on the outside, as despite taking the finishers, Broc was responsive immediately following the pin fall. Saint Sulley was almost inches from breaking up the count himself and HWA both lie on the mat next to each other in a frustrated manner.

    Katie-Lynn Goldsmith: “Here are your winners… REAGAN COLE AND AKA YUREI!”

    Rod Sterling: “What a victory for Reagan Cole and Aka Yurei! Here you see them retreating from the ring up the ramp, with those tag team championship belts in hand, as perhaps even they feel like they stole one from HWA- WAIT!!”



    Kayden Knox and Gabrielle - the team that won the championships that Cole and Yurei had taken for themselves - lay into both Cole and Yurei with stomps to the back as they are down and Knox grabs Cole and launches him into the ring barricade! Aka Yurei has her hair pulled by Gabrielle… AND GABRIELLE DRIVES HER INTO THE RAMP WITH AN EMPTY DREAMS DDT!! Cole and Yurei have been laid out and Knox picks up the championship belts from the ramp and he passes one to Gabrielle and takes the other for himself!

    Rod Sterling: “Bad Reputation have taken the belts back! We can’t let them get away with this… someone! Someone do something!”

    Both members of Bad Reputation seem content and look to leave, but then turn around in unison and see the two men still in the ring. They share a smirk and a nod at each other, before they turn on their heels and walk towards the ring where HWA are picking themselves up following their loss. It is Saint Sulley that stands up first and he approaches Gabrielle with a confused look on his face, but he seems to be trying to reason with her.

    Rod Sterling: “It was touched on by us earlier on, Anzu. Both Knox and Gabrielle share some history with Saint Sulley… he’s trying to talk Gabrielle down- OH! KNOX WITH THE TAG TEAM TITLE BELT TO THE HEAD OF SAINT SULLEY!!”

    The fans are stunned as Knox floors Sulley with his championship, and GABRIELLE THEN DOES THE SAME TO BULLET BROC!! Broc falls to the mat next to his cousin, and Knox can then be heard demanding a microphone, which he snatches from Katie-Lynn Goldsmith.

    Kayden Knox: “I know that you’re probably rushing around in that production truck trying to cut this thing off, but I promise you that I’ve got something to say and that Jon Russnow will want to hear it. So to save me coming back there and kicking all of your asses, I suggest that you let me talk freely.”

    Knox paces around the ring as he talks, whilst Gabrielle stands still.

    Kayden Knox: “What just happened to two of Meltdown’s top ‘teams’ is just the tip of the iceberg, let me assure you all. When it comes to professional wrestling today, there is only one team that matters and that is Bad Reputation, who can now proudly wear these Fallout World Tag Team Championship belts that we won for ourselves last Friday night. As for when it comes to professional wrestling companies, there is only one name that matters too… and that is Fallout, Incorporated.”

    The fans boo loudly for that sentiment, but Knox continues.

    Kayden Knox: “Now, Jon Russnow made himself a little challenge to us earlier tonight… to decide which company is the best at the Anniversary Show… well, on behalf of Executive Excellence and Fallout, Incorporated… WE ACCEPT!”

    Despite the manner of which and who is delivering it, the confirmation of the challenge being accepted is enough to draw a big cheer from the fans in attendance.

    Kayden Knox: “So, whilst the FWA celebrates its seventeenth birthday, we can usher in its death… because what you’ve already seen tonight is just a taste of what is to come on the Anniversary Show. You might as well bring him out, boys… just so everyone here can see what I’m talking about.”

    Knox motions towards the stage and from the back a number of people emerge, all of whom are employed by Fallout, Incorporated. The Undisputed Alliance, Phillip A. Jackson and Konchu Hao - some of them enemies at most times but all united at present - collectively carry the bloodied and beaten Jason Randall above their heads and once they reach the bottom of the ramp, they dump him on the floor next to Reagan Cole and Aka Yurei, before they join Knox and Gabrielle in the ring.

    Kayden Knox: “Let us leave you with this image, Meltdown. Just be careful what you wish for…”


    THE UNDISPUTED ALLIANCE JUMP OUT OF THE RING TO MEET THEM, BUT BOTH SAVAGE AND FENIX ARE MET WITH CHAIR SHOTS TO THE MIDSECTION AND BACK RESPECTIVELY!! The fans cheer as Golden and Truth cut down the numbers against them already and their odds improve as Jason Randall picks himself back up… AND THE THREE OF THEM SLIDE INTO THE RING… AND FALLOUT SCATTER!!

    Rod Sterling: “Fallout got what they came for and have taken the tag titles back, but we’ve shown them that we’re not afraid of anyone! Golden, Truth and Randall have cleared the ring!”

    The cameras follow the entire Fallout contingent escaping through the crowd, with Knox and Gabrielle at the forefront, with the others following closely behind, UA wincing as a result of the chair shots that they took. In the ring, Cyrus Truth stands on the turnbuckle and shouts various obscenities at the retreating invaders.

    Rod Sterling: “Let’s not pretend that they didn’t sting us there, Anzu. They took out a few of us there but look who is standing tall right now! I promise that things will be exactly the same when we face them at the Anniversary Show as it is now official!”

    Anzu Kurosawa: “It is Fallout versus Meltdown… and the very fate of the FWA could be hanging in the balance!”

    Rod Sterling: “With these warriors on our side, prepared to fight against whatever odds… I like our chances! That’s all we have time for tonight, folks! Goodnight!”

    The final image of Meltdown is the triumphant rescuers in the ring; Cyrus Truth and Devin Golden, assisting their roster mates. Meltdown is showing a united front as the date with destiny has now been set…
    Last edited by Jimmy King; 07-27-2022 at 11:39 PM.
    Rest in power, Flock U
    Rest in power, TCON

    Team Cyrus T is Best for Business


    Quote Originally Posted by Ed
    Stop the hating of the E-Feds. If you don't like something, that's fine, just ignore it and let the people who do enjoy what they're here on WC to do. Mocking them to make you feel less of a geek for being on a geek on a wrestling forum is lame. If you want to not read their posts, I can fix that for you.

  20. #20
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    Fallout Fallout: ‘The Granary’ | Card and Discussion Thread

    … presents …

    Date: Friday 12th August, 2022.
    Venue: The Granary on Rupert Watkins’ Private Island.

    LIVE from an undisclosed location, Fallout, Incorporated, Mr. Rupert Watkins, and Mr. Cal Robinson bring you 'FALLOUT: THE GRANARY', airing only on the R.W.Network. The R.W.Network is a brand new streaming service featuring the world's best sport, news, and entertainment, and is available for only $1.99* per month for new subscribers! Go to NOW to begin your subscription: the ONLY place that you can watch Fallout, the hottest, most talked about promotion in professional wrestling today!

    * $1.99 is a special promotional price available to new subscribers only. After the first month, customers will be charged $28.99 per month until the subscription is cancelled. Subscription can be cancelled at any time with two month's written notice. Full terms and conditions are available on

    Bad Reputation [Kayden Knox and Gabrielle] vs. The Undisputed Alliance [Nate Savage and Jackson Fenix].
    Tag Team Match.

    Following their successful effort to become the Fallout World Tag Team Championships on ‘FALLOUT: REBIRTH’, the team of Kayden Knox and Gabrielle - known as Bad Reputation and part of the Executive Excellence group - will take on another of Fallout’s premier tag teams in the form of the Undisputed Alliance. Kayden Knox has significant history with both Jackson Fenix and Nate Savage, being both an ally and a rival to them in the past. With Gabrielle by his side now, and a champion to boot, perhaps the UA will not have many reasons to mock Knox as they have done in the past.

    XYZ and The Buddy System [Jeremy Best and Bryan Baxter] vs. Jin-ho and PONI BOI.
    Trios Match.

    XYZ and Jeremy Best find themselves on the same side of the ring on ‘FALLOUT: THE GRANARY’, after competing against one another on Fallout’s debut on the R.W. Network. Despite XYZ emerging victorious from that match, a clear respect has been formed between Best and XYZ. How this new friendship will impact Best’s relationship with tag team partner Bryan Baxter, is not yet clear. Given they are so recently removed from being entangled with the Undisputed Alliance and the surrounding faux friendships, will the big man be weary of XYZ and his intentions?

    Konchu Hao vs. Phillip A. Jackson.
    Singles Match.

    Both Konchu Hao and Phillip A. Jackson participated in the Six Pack Challenge on ‘FALLOUT: REBIRTH’, with the prize being to become the inaugural Fallout Television Champion, which was ultimately won by Shawn Summers. Hao and PAJ finished second and third in that match, respectively, with Konchu even being the one to eliminate Jackson from the match. Given their impressive performances in that match, it was deemed fitting for them to face off again on ‘FALLOUT: THE GRANARY’, with the winner surely positioning themselves to be the first challenger to ‘Der Bastard’ in the near future.

    Danny Toner vs. Cornelius Aurelius Caesar
    Singles Match.

    Danny Toner will be in action for the first time since becoming the Fallout World Heavyweight Champion, when he takes on Cornelius Aurelius Caesar in the main event of ‘FALLOUT: THE GRANARY’. Toner’s allies in Executive Excellence were responsible not just for taking the Fallout World Tag Team Championships from Caesar and Stu Grimes on ‘FALLOUT: REBIRTH’, but also for taking Grimes permanently out of commission by throwing him from Roughs Tower into the North Sea. Caesar is out for revenge, and has called out Toner. But with Knox and Gabrielle present on the show, the Roman could find himself facing a similar fate to his Men Out of Time partner if he is not careful.

    L.A. - Sunday 7th August at 23.59(PM)
    New York - Monday 8th August at 03:00(AM)
    Newport Pagnall - Monday 8th August at 08:00(AM)
    Istanbul - Monday 8th August at 10:00(AM).
    Melbourne - Monday 8th August at 17:00(AM).

    Extensions are available upon request, so long as:
    - it is at least 24 hours before deadline.
    - nobody in your match has submitted their promo.

    Extensions granted:

  21. #21
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    Meltdown XVIII | Get the ‘F’ Out | Card and Discussion Thread

    from the Vivint Arena in Salt Lake City, Utah

    August 15th, 2022
    Meltdown XVIII


    The team of Reagan Cole and Aka Yurei will have undoubtedly turned some heads with their victory in the main event of Meltdown XVII, where they defeated Hardcore Wrestling Alliance in just their second match as a team. ‘The Crimson Ghost’ and ‘The British Apprentice’ arrived in Mexico City in possession of the FWA/Fallout World Tag Team Championships, following their raid of Roughs Towers the preceding Friday night, where they claimed possession of the belts and brought them back to the FWA. Whilst the FWA does not have any recognised tag team champions at present, Cole and Yurei surely staked their claim as the company’s premier tag team with their victory.

    The celebrations of their win were short lived, however. Kayden Knox and Gabrielle would appear on Meltdown and assault both teams that had participated in the main event, also taking back physical possession of the championship belts that they had won from the Men Out of Time. Knox also accepted Jon Russnow’s challenge for a ‘Meltown vs. Fallout’ theme for the upcoming FWA Seventeenth Anniversary Show, where surely the two companies’ top teams will be pitted against one another. Cole and Yurei could likely find themselves facing Bad Reputation at that event. Before that though, comes a strange challenge in Milwaukee.

    Cyrus Truth has emerged as somewhat of a bannerman for the FWA and was a pivotal figure in the raid on Fallout. Truth’s involvement in that escapade earned him a backstage beatdown at the hands of Fallout’s Undisputed Alliance on Meltdown. This came just after Truth had scalded Sawyer Xavier for not stepping up at valuable moments where he could have defended his Meltdown brethren. In fact, Xavier was present for the UA’s assault on Truth and chose to do nothing. Cyrus has another chance to get through to the young star when they team together, but ‘The Exile’ will need to have eyes in the back of his head to ensure that he can trust his partner.




    - Set for one fall, 20 minute time limit
    - Sawyer Xavier (0-1 since BIB XVI)
    - Cyrus Truth (1-0 since BIB XVI)
    - Reagan Cole (1-0 since BIB XVI)
    - Aka Yurei(1-0 since BIB XVI)


    Saint Sulley and his cousin Bullet Broc have emerged on Meltdown as having two specific objectives; to become tag team champions and to also bring hardcore back to professional wrestling. The two are paying tribute to the company that they started together many moons ago, and their actions on Meltdown XVII showed that they mean business. Prior to them falling short against Reagan Cole and Aka Yurei in the main event and then being attacked by Kayden Knox and Gabrielle, the cousins decimated poor Grandma Ethel and Greg.

    On Meltdown XVIII, they are in tag team action once again, but this time going against two of the FWA’s resident ham-and-eggers in OMBHAUSEN and Akimitsu O’Connor. What will follow will likely be brutal, remorseless and perhaps borderline enjoyable… but it won’t be pretty.

    (bullet broc & saint sulley)



    - Set for one fall, 20 minute time limit
    - Bullet Broc (0-1 since BIB XVI)
    - Saint Sulley (0-1 since BIB XVI)
    - OMBHAUSEN (0-0 since BIB XVI)
    - Akimitsu O’Connor (0-0 since BIB XVI)


    Alongside Cyrus Truth, Jason Randall has been notable for his leading role in the ongoing saga between Meltdown and Fallout, although his spars have mostly been with Konchu Hao in particular. ‘The Mad Wizard’ attacked Randall following his victory over Sawyer Xavier on Meltdown XVII and the two seemingly brawled throughout the majority of the remainder of the show, until Randall was ganged up on backstage by Hao and the remaining invaders before being brought out in front of the world by the Fallout, Incorporated personnel.

    Randall faces Gerald Grayson of Cthulhu’s Nephews, who was unexpectedly forced to sit out of his scheduled match on Meltdown XVII following Chris Crowe’s injury. Grayson has been largely absent from in ring action for some time - even missing Back in Business - but he has the opportunity to make a strong case for himself when he takes on ‘The Wildcard’. The heavily contrasting styles should make for a very




    - Set for one fall, 20 minute time limit
    - Jason Randall (1-0 since BIB XVI)
    - Gerald Grayson (0-0 since BIB XVI)


    Two of Meltdown's biggest stars will go head to head for the second time in one-on-one competition, with 'Dreamer' Michelle von Horrowitz taking on 'The Rotten Gold' Devin Golden in Meltdown XVIII's opener. Michelle won that first encounter all the way back on Meltdown IV, back when she was reigning as world champion for the first time and Meltdown wasn't even using Roman numerals. A lot has happened since then, though, with both of these wrestlers succeeding in holding that world championship again before - for once - finding themselves on the same side as the current civil war. When tag team matches are included also, Devin Golden holds a 3-2 winning record over Dreamer, with the most notable of those coming all the way back at Mile High 2021, when Golden Rock defeated The Connection to win the Elite Tag Team Classic and their first FWA World Tag Team Championships as a duo.

    Now, though, the tumultuous situation has led to Devin Golden appearing on last week's Fallout: Rebirth, with many watching noting that the entire Cthulhu's Nephews: Meltdown Branch - including MvH - were responsible for Meltdown's passage to Sealand. Golden seemed of singular mind: taking back his FWA World Heavyweight Championship from Danny Toner, a belt that he never officially held in the first place. Now equipped with his paper championship belt, Golden will now have to focus on the dangerous opponent across the ring from him, who herself seems to be on the edge of a civil war within a civil war against her Nephew counterparts on Fallout.




    - Set for one fall, 20 minute time limit
    - Michelle von Horrowitz (0-1 since BIB XVI)
    - Devin Golden (1-0 since BIB XVI)






    Following the attack on the then-North American Champion Chris Crowe prior to the commencement of Meltdown XVII in Mexico City, it was revealed that the injuries suffered by ‘The Showman’ in the apparent hit-and-run were significant enough for him to have to vacate the championship. Coincidentally, a number one contender match for the right to face Crowe on Meltdown XVIII was set to take place on that same show, which was to be pitting Johnny ‘The Legend’ Johnson against ‘The Rave’ Lizzie Rose, after both had impressed at Back in Business in Rio.

    Due to Crowe no longer being eligible to compete, Jon Russnow set to make the scheduled match for the championship itself as opposed to a number one contenders’ match. However, ‘The Legend’ vetoed this arrangement, citing the terms in his contract permitting him to stipulate when and where any championship match he is booked in can take place. A war of words between Johnson and Russnow ensued, but it soon devolved into a brawl between Johnson and a waiting Rose, who had tired of listening to ‘The Legend’ complaining and disparaging the Brand Consultant. After it seemed that Johnson could have put Rose’s place in the championship match in jeopardy, ‘The Rave’ managed to turn things around on Johnson and gain the upper hand between the two heading into this match.

    Later in the night, Johnson took to the interview pit where he took advantage of the opportunity to share more of his thoughts on the wider issues plaguing the FWA, in particular Jon Russnow’s handling of the secession of Fallout, Incorporated from the FWA. Johnson made it clear that he wanted no part in the ongoing war between the two companies and singled out Cyrus Truth for his role within it. Whether Johnson will face any repercussions from ‘The Exile’ for his disparaging remarks, remains to be seen.




    - Lizzie Rose (0-0 since BIB XVI)
    - Johnny Johnson (0-0 since BIB XVI)

    Match Order:
    1. Devin Golden v. Michelle von Horrowitz
    2. Jason Randall v. Gerald Grayson
    3. HWA v Jobbers United
    4. Truth & Xavier v. Yurei & Cole
    5. Johnny Johnson v. Lizzie Rose

    Extensions allowed for this show. Post should go up by the deadline, and there are fifteen minutes of grace period afterwards (nothing should be edited past 15 minutes after the deadline, and nothing should be posted after the deadline). It's best not to wait till the last second because WC is fickle as fuck and there's always coding issues.

    If you don't meet the deadline, it will be up to your opponents to unanimously allow your promo to count (unless it's like an hour past deadline, then you're out of luck).

    Promo Deadline:
    Wednesday 10th August at 11:59 PM Pacific Time.
    Thursday 11th
    Augustat 2:59 AM Eastern Standard Time
    Thursday 11th August at 7:59 AM British Standard Time
    Thursday 11thAugust at 10:59 AM Moscow Standard Time
    Thursday 11thAugust at 5:59 PM Australian Eastern Standard Time and Chamarro Standard Time

    Segment/Match Writing Deadline:
    Sunday 14th August at 11:59 PM Pacific Time.
    Monday 15th
    August at 2:59 AM Eastern Standard Time
    Monday 15th August at 7:59 AM British Standard Time

    Posting Date:
    Monday 15th August at a time to be determined.

    Last edited by Jimmy King; 08-01-2022 at 07:51 PM.

  22. #22
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    Re: Fallout | ‘The Granary’ | Promo Thread

    Chapter 3: Just the Tip

    It was August the 8th. It was 10:17 AM in the morning.

    Most importantly, it had been almost 30 days since the disappearance of FWA Superstar Krash.

    That's nearly 720 hours.

    At this point, almost all had given up hope. Most have written Krash off as probably dead.

    But not Jeremy Best. And to a lesser (much lesser) extent, neither did Bryan Baxter.

    And after Jeremy passed the XYZite test on last week's Fallout, you can now count XYZ in the small few who still think Krash is out there somewhere. Just waiting to be rescued.

    Pledging his assistance to the cause, XYZ and his associate Big Al now found themselves inside the most generic-looking rentable office space you can find in the city of Atlanta. Inside this small, tight office space were four cubicles set up with four desks. On each desk simply sat one landline telephone.

    “Is this really how we’re gonna to do this?” the always cynical Bryan Baxter questioned. He continued to go along with Jeremy’s quest for truth despite himself knowing that it’s probably all for naught. But more concerning for Bryan was how in-depth Jeremy seemed to be willing to go. He was worried about the fact that, if anything, Jeremy was in denial.

    “Oh ye of little faith, Bryan Baxter. This is not just a good idea, it is a stupendous idea!” XYZ said cheerfully, with his hands on his waist, admiring the four bland cubicles in front of him while Jeremy gave an excited clap of his hands.

    It's certainly a word that starts with stup-, Bryan said to himself, but not aloud.

    “That’s right, Bryan. This was a great idea, Mr. X,” Jeremy said with glee, “if we’re going to get to the bottom of Krash’s whereabouts, we need any information we can find. And this tip line is a great way to get some. Somewhere out there, someone knows something. Someone has SEEN something. ANYTHING! They just had to have!”

    Baxter shook his head. Yes, Jeremy was certainly in denial. And he worried about what effect this was going to have on Jeremy’s own career. The loss of Krash was affecting him mentally as was evident during Jeremy’s own match on Fallout with XYZ last week.

    “I just think, maybe we should be preparin' for our match on Fallout? I just don’t want this Krash business to get in the way of a win, y’know. Wouldn’t want a repeat of last week.”

    Jeremy laughed and gave Bryan a pat on the back. “One-time thing my friend. A silly mistake that anyone could’ve made. The resemblance was uncanny!”

    “I don’t…”

    “I could see it, indeed I could.”

    Bryan glared at XYZ. Well, of course, he could. He benefited from Jeremy’s lapse in judgment more than anyone else.

    Consider Bryan skeptical of another new ally for Jeremy so soon after the whole Undisputed Alliance debacle. Here we go again, Bryan thought. Another person using Jeremy’s naivety against him. Bryan was certainly going to keep a close eye on this XYZ.

    “Besides, Bryan Baxter. It’s not like our opponents this week are much for this triumvirate to worry about! The KPop Bad Street Boys stand no chance against this group of super friends.”

    “People used to say that about me, ya know. I don’t take anyone for granted.”

    “Fair enough, my large-bellied friend. We will get our training in! I will fly us to the most intense gymnasium in the galaxy after we get our answers from the numerous tips that will soon come rolling in!”

    Great, Bryan thought, they’re both either in denial or just fuckin’ bonkers.

    “And what’s this guy’s deal exactly,” Bryan said as he motioned towards Big Al, who had taken a seat in one of the cubicles, already on the phone. But as Bryan noticed, Big Al wasn’t TAKING phone calls..he was..making them? “Why is he calling people? Isn’t the point of the tip line is that people will call us?”

    “Ahh, yes. Well, I figured whilst we wait…Big Al could make some calls to some prospective XYZites. We could use all the help we can get. It’s a little trick I learned on the planet Solicitus.”

    “That’s just telemarketing.”

    “Ahh, I see you too, Bryan Baxter, have visited Solicitus.”

    “Way too many times,” Bryan shook his head with a smirk.

    “And now we wait. Soon…soon we will have the answers we seek.”

    Jeremy smiled as the trio took their respective seats at their desks. He just knew that someone was going to call in with the information they needed.

    The clock ticked on. An hour went by. Then another.

    The answers were not coming.

    They had received only four phone calls between the trio (though Big Al was putting up an impressive output of 50 outgoing calls per hour. Might’ve actually sold someone a timeshare along the way).

    Three of those calls were fake tips from what Jeremy was pretty sure was Jackson Fenix.

    As another hour went by, Jeremy was not losing hope. He still sat, staring at the phone on his desk with an eager smile on his face. The next time it rang, he knew it would be the call they had been waiting for.

    So while XYZ had slipped off into his second nap of the day, and Bryan Baxter leaned back in his chair with his feet up on the desk watching an episode of Hell’s Kitchen on his cell phone…Jeremy did what he does best. He remained positive

    “I know this has turned into a long day, but stay strong, my friends. I know this will pay off in the end.”

    XYZ was silent because he was still asleep. Bryan Baxter was quiet because he had no words to offer his partner. He would love to slap some sense into him, but that wasn’t going to work on Jeremy at this point.


    Jeremy’s phone rang, awakening XYZ from sleep, nearly spilling him out of his chair. Jeremy reached over with excitement as he picked up the phone.

    “Hello! This is the Krash Crusaders Tip Hotline. Please let us know any information you may have on the whereabouts of Krash and know that any tips you provide are completely anonymous.”

    “Yes,” a deep, muffled voice responded. "I do have a tip for you, Jeremy. For all of you, actually. Your little friends, they’re around…right?”

    “Uh, well, yes, “Jeremy responded with slight confusion.

    “Good, put me on speaker.”

    Jeremy complied as he reached forward and pressed the speaker phone. Bryan Baxter and XYZ both peered over their cubicle walls to listen in.

    “My tip for the three of you is this. Stop.”

    “Stop? No, no. We can’t just stop.”

    “You will stop. If Krash is out there somewhere, don’t you think he’d be found by now if he wanted to be found? Maybe he doesn’t want you to find him.”

    Bryan tilted his head while XYZ rubbed his chin, pondering the words of this mysterious caller. But Jeremy was having none of it. “No, I refuse to believe that.”

    “You’re all walking a dangerous line. Stop your search before someone gets hurt. You have more important things you should be dealing with.”

    “Nothing is more important to me than finding Krash.”

    “God dammit Jeremy, I’m trying to help you here. It’s for your own good. There’s a war coming…you’re a part of Fallout, and my tip for you is…do your part in the war. Stop worrying about Krash and start thinking about where you stand in the battle.”

    And with that, the anonymous caller hung up. Jeremy put the phone receiver back down on the table, leaning back in his chair before turning to look up at his two friends.

    “Maybe he’s right…”

    Jeremy hung his head down, perhaps ready to admit defeat. “But…it just doesn’t feel right.”

    “Lift your chin up, Jeremy Best," XYZ offered consolation.

    "War. War is silly. I’ve seen so many wars across the many different universes out there - past, present, and future. War does no good and leaves nothing but disease, death, and destruction when it’s over. No one truly wins in a war. Our mission is one that is noble and true. One that will result in none of those terrible D-words I mentioned before. Just one D-word will be the result of our efforts to find Krash, and that word is ‘delight.’”

    Bryan nodded in agreement, “I came to Fallout because of you, Jeremy. My allegiance isn’t to a brand, it’s to you. So fuck ‘em all..we’re not gonna just be some pawn in this useless battle between a bunch of corporate assholes and the people who play along. I fight alongside you, my friend. And if your battle is to find Krash, then that’s the battle I’m in.”

    Jeremy lifted his head back up with an inquisitive smile on his face.

    “Thank you both. But…this war that’s coming between Fallout and Meltdown…or Fallout and FWA, whatever it is. I do agree with X, it’s not going to end well. But..what if..what if…there was one mission. One idea. One common goal that both sides could come together around. Something we could all agree on was for the best of FWA. Finding Krash should be that thing. The next part of our mission is just that…we’re going to UNITE THE FWA around Krash! We’ll stop this war before it even starts! Whattaya say, pals?!”

    “Hear hear! Let’s do it!” XYZ leaped up in agreement.

    “Here we go again,” Bryan laughed through his clear reluctance of the notion.


    Another tip!

    Jeremy answered with vigor.

    “Hello! This is the Krash Crusaders Tip Hotline. Please let us know any information you may have on the whereabouts of Krash and know that any tips you provide are completely anonymous.”

    “Hi…yeah..I, uh, I think I know where you can find Krash.”

    Jeremy’s eyes grew wide.

    “You might want to grab some paper.”

    Jeremy quickly searched his desk until he found a legal pad and a pencil.

    “Ok, I’m ready!”

    “Okay, so you know that new Taco Bell on 3rd Street? Well, go down there, and then walk 17 paces towards to highway to get to the sidewalk. Take a left and head about half a mile until you see a golden statue of some old hot chick…like, no she’s not hot because she’s old because she’s not even old in the statue, she just lived a long time ago…”

    Some commotion was heard on the phone as another frustrated voice away from the phone could be heard telling the anonymous caller to shut up about the statue.

    “Right, anyway…ignore the statue and keep walking another mile down the road. To your left, you will find a long and winding driveway. Walk down the driveway until you reach an old wooden shack. Knock three times on the door to the shack. A man in a mustache will answer…but no, it’s not Krash. But he has something very important that will help you. But you will have to tell him the magic words…which are ‘I’m a pretty princess.’ Can you repeat that for me to make sure you heard it?”

    “Uh, sure. I’m a pretty princess?”

    Snickering came from the other line as Bryan and XYZ tried desperately to get Jeremy’s attention.

    “...Hehehe..errr…okay anyway, good, you got it. So now this dude’s gonna give you a key. It’s a very important key to unlocking all the secrets you want to know about where that little bit…I mean, where Krash is located. So what do you do with the key? It’s quite simple. Are you still writing this all down?”

    “Yes! Yes, do tell!” Jeremy said with excitement as he continued to write down the instructions word for word.

    “Perfect. So this has to be done exactly when the clock strikes midnight. And on the 12th ring of the bell, you need to take the key…bend over…..and….SHOVE IT UP YOUR BUTT!”

    Jeremy kept writing until he finished hearing BUTT before he tossed his pencil away in frustration as two voices laughed hysterically on the other line.

    “Gosh darn it! JACKSON! NATE! Stop messing around with this investigation!”

    “Suck it losers!” Jackson Fenix shouted before hanging up the phone.

    “I think that’s enough phone calls for one day. How about we hit up that galactic gym of yours, XYZ?”

    “Splendid! Big Al, you ready?”

    “You guys go ahead, I’ve got another 4000 names I want to hit up before I leave. I’ll lock up for you.”

    “What a guy!” XYZ said before leading Jeremy and Bryan out the door.

    “You’re gonna love this place - just stay away from the ones with the red tentacles. Trust me on this one.”

  23. #23
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    Re: Fallout | ‘The Granary’ | Promo Thread

    "No secession! One brand! No secession! One brand! No secession! One brand!"

    A group of four FWA fans wearing tie-dye shirts and rainbow-colored sunglasses continue chanting this cry of peace to everyone who walks by in the city that is the quickest way to The Granary, aka Rupert Watkins' private island.

    Fallout #2 is just a few hours away, and the premier story is Fallout's separation from the Meltdown brand and the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance as a whole. Rupert Watkins and the renewed Executive Excellence faction are leading the secession, which has started a cause-and-effect relationship with brand invasions. There was a full-fledged ship invasion and retreat, along with Stu Grimes being booted overboard and sent tumbling into the seal's mighty temper.

    The violence is ramped up to 100, and everyone on the FWA roster is in harm's way. Even XYZ, the resident superhero, and his newfound ally Jeremy Best, felt the brunt of Meltdown's retaliation to Fallout's anti-FWA transgressions.

    Rather than take a specific stance in the war, XYZ and "Your New Best Friend" Jeremy Best are pleading for an end to the consistent brand warfare on every show. Maybe their voices being shouted will lead to their message being heard.

    And at least a few fans – four, to be exact – agree with XYZ and his honorary XYZite.

    "No secession! One brand! No secession! One brand! No secession! One brand!"

    XYZ is sitting in one of those foldout lounge chairs that people dual-apply for the beach. His green cape is tied around his neck and bent into scattered wrinkles along his back and ribs, pressed against the chair's backing.

    Jeremy Best is being more active with the protesting. He is talking to people as they pass by and explaining the group's stance. Jeremy is a chipper fella and usually gets smiles and head nods from everyone he speaks with.

    Jeremy holds a clipboard to try and get signatures – for an unknown purpose, although likely to get signatures but also fosh for any clues about Krash's whereabouts. He has been a go-getter this entire project in a hope of finding Krash and proving he is still alive. It would simply be icing on the cake for Jeremy to bring Krash back to the FWA.

    So that's why he was manning the phones in the office space in Atlanta. That's why he is taking the lead on asking for signatures outside of this tiny town.

    XYZ was trying to do the same but only got about six signatures – four of them penis-based joke names – before he gave up. Plus, there were the prank calls from Jackson Fenix to the protest earlier that put X in quite a bad mood.

    Bryan Baxter, the third man in this trio set to take on another trio on Fallout, has abandoned his post to chat up the most attractive-looking female of the four shouting for peace. At least his spirits remain high.

    So, while XYZ is committed to finding Krash, he's more concerned with what's to come on Fallout, and the FWA as a whole. That's probably where he and Jeremy's motivations and priorities diverge.

    Big Al, fresh from another round of chemotherapy, sits in a similar-looking lawn chair next to XYZ. Big Al has dropped considerable weight as he prepares for surgery to remove the tumor-ridden lung, but that's not for another few weeks. He has two rounds of chemotherapy to go.

    "Yo, you think y'all gonna find that boy Krash?" Big Al asks, pointedly, to his best friend.

    "It doesn't matter … what … I think. It only matters that I … will keep looking for him. To every end of the universe. To every star in the sky. To every planet in every celestial galaxy I know about.

    I'm looking … as long as Jeremy wants me to. I owe it to Jeremy, Big Al. I owe it to Jeremy just like I owed those favors to that clan of wee-walk hawks on Planet Cthejeriulpus."

    "You a loyal friend, X. Always stayin' with 'em until the end. Rare breed."

    Big Al's words speak more like a personal testimonial about he and X's friendship.

    "I just want ya to know that I'ma be here by your side until I can't. You been here for me through all this. I want to be here for you. So whatever you need. Always."

    "Always, Big Al. Always. I cannot state how much I appreciate the bond we share. I need it. I can't go alone. I know you told me you won't always be there for me, but…"

    "When I said this now?"

    Big Al shows a look of confusion, which causes X to retreat. He immediately remembers that those words from Big Al were said in a dream.

    "Nevermind, Al. Just … thank you for being you. Thank you for being an XYZite. Thank you for not being afraid of the darkness of this world. So many people could do well to follow your example. You show courage in the face of desperation. You show kindness in times when selfishness would be understandable."

    "You gave me a chance to come as close as possible to my dream. For almost five years, I've been at arm's length from my dream. Thanks to you. And only you."

    These words strike a chord with XYZ, who nods his head and tries to hide the tears building up above his bottom eyelid. He didn't verbally respond. He just nods.

    And then looks away.

    If Big Al can keep his head up and continue to do what's right and good – in the face of so much fear and uncertainty – then so can XYZ.

    X rises up from his lounge chair and begins shouting along with the fellow protesting volunteers. His voice even rings above the rest.


    XYZ's words give a bit of pep to the rest of the group. However, it doesnt have much effect on the people passing by aside from making them confused. One trio -- led by a hispanic gentleman, a caucasian fella with glasses, and a burly black man who somewhat resembles Big Al -- joins a woman and her toddler-age child as passersby of the protesting.

    "Sir ... for all the mountains in the ocean and sea scallops on the back of the three-eyed rhinos, will you please sign our sheet to request the end to this violence and demise?!?!"

    One of the men, the silent caucasian who hadn't been speaking in the group as they approached, grabbed the pen and signed Jeremy's sheet of paper.

    "Thank you, sir. And remember ... forever ...

    The dream never dies."

    3x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    1x FWA World Champion
    2x FWA X Champion
    7x FWA Tag Team Champion

    2020 North American Sports Poster Of The Year

  24. #24
    Cyrus Truth's Avatar

    Join Date
    Apr 2011
    Long and Winding Road
    Rep Power

    Re: Fallout | ‘The Granary’ | Promo Thread

    Devious Productions Presents:

    Konchu Hao in...

    "The Grim Crusade! Standing Firm Against Zealotry!!!"

    "You know, an apology would go a long way towards mending the proverbial fences, Cyrus."

    "Not entirely sure what I have to apologize for."

    "Oh?! Your thug Jason Randall blindsiding me on the last episode of Fallout isn't worth apologizing for?"

    Our scene opens in an outdoor cafe in Aspen, Colorado. The crisp mountain air, the slight breeze that rolls through just enough to not disturb the patrons of this establishment makes for a calming, atmospheric experience.

    Under most circumstances.

    While most of the patrons are simply enjoying the restaurant's offerings and the beautiful day, back in the far corner of the patio sits Konchu Hao and Cyrus Truth, men who have found themselves on opposing sides of No Man's Land in the rapidly expanding conflict between Fallout and Meltdown. However, despite being on opposing sides, it would seem that the duo's long-time friendship matters more in this instance, as the two haven't come to blows over the first shots fired in the conflict, where Konchu would be the first of Fallout's wrestlers to be assaulted by a Meltdown invader.

    Still, friendship aside, it's clear that Konchu has a bone to pick with The Exile over this. As his faithful minion Epsilon sits and stuffs his face with macaroons, the Mad Wizard has his eyes squarely focused on Cyrus, rapping his bony fingers on the table in an subconscious attempt to be menacing as his free hand holds onto a teacup like it's a lifeline in a sea of frustration.

    "Cyrus, I understand that you have a gripe with Rupert and Executive Excellence given what happened at Back in Business. I said as much myself that they made a grave miscalculation when they chose this particular path to take towards secession. But apparently, my assumption that we were friends and my desire to not get in your way unless absolutely necessary seems to have fallen on deaf ears, hmm? You show up, you get me to lower my guard, and then your feral mongrel Randall assaults me?!"

    "You're assuming an awful lot, Konchu."

    "Then enlighten me! Tell me why I shouldn't be as absolutely livid as I am and why I shouldn't inflict you with an awful Umbral Curse for this abominable transgression."

    "I've BEEN trying to explain it to you, Konchu. I know you're upset about losing out on the Television Championship..."

    "'Upset?' Hardly encapsulates my feelings on watching that horrid wretch Shawn Summers walking out with a title that was MADE for me."

    "...Konchu. Can I get a word-in edgewise? Or did you follow me to Aspen just to unload your frustration? Either is fine, but I'd appreciate you letting me know what it is you want so that I'm not having to waste my breath or my time."

    Despite how worked up Konchu is, Cyrus's query seems to knock a lot of the hot air out of the Mad Wizard's sails. As Epsilon continues to gorge himself on pastries, seemingly unaware or unbothered by this conversation, Konchu's iron grip on his teacup loosens as he allows himself to relax, if but a little. He leans back in his chair and motions for Cyrus, telling him without words that the proverbial floor was his for an explanation.

    Cyrus, favoring a mug of coffee, takes a sip as he cracks his neck. The Meltdown standout and four-time World Champion apparently has been feeling a bit of the weight of his actions in declaring war against Fallout, but it's not an unfamiliar weight and one that Cyrus has borne before, and is more than capable of bearing it again.

    "Look, when I decided to invade Fallout, I had my own very clear objectives. Disruption and reclamation. I wanted our title belts back, Konchu. And to give Rupert's wrestlers a bloody nose as a reminder that actions have consequences."

    "Well, you CERTAINLY did that. And got a reprisal for your efforts as well."

    "Which was all part of the plan. Honestly, Fallout ignoring the attacks would've made this whole war a lot more complicated. Now that Fallout has launched a counterattack, war is inevitable. Blood has to answer for blood, eye for an eye. Even if it leaves us all blind in the end."

    "Rather melodramatic and fatalistic, if you want my opinion."

    Cyrus shrugs as he takes another sip of coffee.

    "Some things are worth fighting for, even dying for. If this ends up being my last conflict, and if I'm going to fall as a result of it? I consider that an acceptable outcome, so long as I win. What am I, if I don't have my pride?"

    "Ugh, 'pride.' Always comes back to that with you, doesn't it? I understand, of course. But that still doesn't explain why you let that feral vandal assault me."

    "That...really wasn't part of my plan. If I'm being completely honest, I was fully prepared to invade Fallout on my own if nobody on Meltdown's roster was willing to join the fight. I was surprised that so many followed me, even if some of them only seemed to follow along just to get some shine like that Sawyer kid. But I was pretty clear when I told the Meltdown roster what I wanted to do on Fallout: I wanted to send a message and take back our gold. I didn't tell Jason to attack you...hell, I didn't know he was hiding there until I saw him rush out and assault you."

    "Rather convenient excuse. And still doesn't explain why you didn't step in when he was attacking me."

    "I didn't know he was attacking you until well after the fact, Konchu! I was focused on what I came to Fallout to do. What the fuck do you want from me? An apology? A promise that you're not going to get caught up in this storm? You're supposed to be one of the most intelligent power players in the world of shadows, Hao. You said it yourself, didn't you? You knew full well that war was coming, you said it as much yourself. And while I can appreciate you not wanting to carry Fallout's banner yourself, you should know full well that you getting out of this unscathed was a fantasy, at best."

    Konchu scowls at that, his grip on his teacup tightening yet again in frustration. Deep down, though...Konchu knows Cyrus was right.

    Rupert Watkins and Executive Excellence declared secession from the Fantasy Wrestling Alliance despite what the rest of the roster thought about it. And they didn't even have the common decency to abdicate the titles before creating new championship legacies. Reprisal was inevitable...especially with The Exile on the other side of the proverbial fence.

    Konchu, as annoyed as he is at Cyrus and this whole ordeal, knows full well that Cyrus Truth is a man who cannot and will not suffer a blow to his pride by anything less than battle. Losing a wrestling match or a championship title is hard for a man like that, but acceptable. Having a corporate parasite feed his own ego off the blood of a promotion that Cyrus once reigned over as its indominable champion? Flaunting independence while relying on FWA's championship legacy and faction history for prestige? Rupert might as well have been dangling a lit torch over a mountain of kerosene-soaked rags over his new ambitious project with Fallout, Inc. It would've resulted in less damage than what an enraged Exile and motivated Meltdown wrestlers were capable of.

    Still, Konchu isn't Cyrus. Konchu's pride comes from within, whereas Cyrus's pride is due to his actions and accomplishments. The Mad Wizard seeks gold and glory, of course...but Konchu knows his worth and knows full well what he's capable of. The critiques of small-minded, narrow-visioned mouth-breathers are not something that concerns Konchu. The only voice that matters when it comes to Konchu's pride is his own. Cyrus can claim all he wants that he's the same, but the Mad Wizard knows better.

    Either way, it's something Konchu's had to come to acceptance on when he and Cyrus first became acquaintances. Konchu lets out a deep sigh as he releases his grip on his teacup and takes a bite out of a scone.

    "You are impossible, Cyrus. An absolute black hole of incomprehensible paradoxes that threatens to swallow the sanest of men whole and leave them with more questions than answers. Thankfully, I'm not sane at all! So I'll once again be the bigger man and let this stand as water under the proverbial bridge. Still, allow me to make myself as absolutely clear as I possibly can. I want NOTHING to do with this conflict. I have my own ambitions to consider, my own goals that I want to achieve, and it matters incredibly little if the banner says "FWA" or "Fallout, Inc." when it comes to pursuing those goals. So do me a favor and tell those barbarians who've, for reasons I can't even begin to comprehend, have somewhat rallied under your banner in this conflict that I'm not going to get involved in this conflict unless they decide to get me involved."
    Cyrus drained the last of his coffee as he takes a napkin and dabs some of the dredges from the edges of his lips.

    "You know that even if I do, there's no guarantee that they'll listen."

    "Of course I know! But I want you to at least promise that you'll say SOMETHING. If you do value our friendship at all."

    "...Fine. I'll say something, but I make no promises that it'll do any good."

    "And one last thing? Vengeance must be mete. If I get the chance to wring that renegade Randall's scrawny neck?"

    "I won't be too mad about it. Randall's a former X Division Champion. He should know full well that actions have violent and bloody consequences. If he decides to go after you again, you're more than welcome to fight back. It's war, after all. I'm not so blind as to think that there won't be any casualties."

    Cyrus's answer seems to satisfy the Mad Wizard as he cracks his signature smirk and raises his teacup as if in a toast. Not that The Exile returns it. Instead, Cyrus stands up from the table and puts down a couple of $20 bills.

    "As much 'fun' as this has been, Konchu? I have to get going. I have some business to attend to before the next edition of Fallout."

    "I'm not going to tell you where The Granary is."

    "You think I need you to?"

    "No, of course not. Your information network in the world of shadows has become quite expansive since that whole horrid business with the Observers and the Church of 9. And we BOTH know that Rupert is no stranger to the darker side of the metaphorical coin. I just wanted to make it clear that you weren't getting that information from me. In case somebody was watching. Kehahaha..."

    Cyrus nods knowingly. Both he and Konchu are always cautious when it comes to discussing business, whether it's wrestling or shadow business. Still, not matter how cautious you are?

    The world of shadows has eyes and ears everywhere.

    Without another word, Cyrus Truth takes his leave, giving Epsilon a friendly pat on the head that the pintsized powerhouse replies with a cheerful smattering of incoherent babble. With The Exile leaving and out of sight, if not out of mind, Konchu allows himself to relax, if but a little.

    Frustration aside, and even after expressing his desire to stay out of the oncoming war, Konchu can't help but ponder the opportunities that will arise from this conflict. Even if he doesn't ride into battle carrying the banner of Fallout, there were still chances to achieve some of his own goals amongst the scorched earth and ashes that were to come.

    However, first and foremost? Jason Randall would have to be answered for his assault. That egregious attack for no discernable reason could not be allowed to stand.

    The war would provide the opportunity, of that Konchu was certain. But with the brands separate, Konchu would have to bide his time and wait for that opportunity to present itself.

    And when it did? Konchu Hao, the mind behind Madman's Mayhem, would show The Wildcard the true meaning of "hardcore wrestling."

    But before any of that?

    "Epsilon! Do you have the information on Phillip A. Jackson available that I requested?"

    "Oplik tuq!"

    "Good. If you're done with your treats, would you be so kind as to pull that up on your mobile device?"

    Epsilon nods in affirmation as he drags out his goblin backpack from underneath the table and pulls out his tablet. He hands it to his master, who deftly swipes on it to pull up information on Phillip A. Jackson.

    PAJ is certainly one of the highest profile opponents Konchu has had to face since coming to FWA. Jackson is a multiple time champion at nearly every level of competition, a twice-crowned World Champion and one of the most iconic wrestlers to ever step into an FWA ring.

    And, one of FWA's most notorious wrestlers.

    Despite a few instances where PAJ was the apple in the eyes of many wrestling fans, Jackson most noteworthy moments in wrestling were always when he found himself on the darker side of the proverbial alignment chart. At his absolute worst, Phillip A. Jackson was one of the most hated, reprehensible competitors to grace a wrestling ring. Success was a drink that Phillip drank early and often from, and that drink led to an addiction that drove PAJ to achieve more and more, no matter what methods he used to get there.

    Still, for all his achievements, Konchu had a hard time considering Phillip in the same echelon as other World Champions of yesteryear. Two World Titles was most certainly noteworthy and admirable, and spoke to PAJ's abilities in the ring. However, a short first reign and a second reign defined by arrogance and skullduggery don't paint a flattering picture. Even PAJ himself attempted to showcase a lighter side after losing the second World Title, almost as if he was contrite.

    However, few and little about this matters that much to Konchu. Phillip A. Jackson could be a ten-time World Champion for all he cares. Despite coming up short in the six-man bout for the Fallout TV Title, Konchu showed that he was more than capable of matching and surpassing PAJ. Despite the hype around his return and the murmuring of Jackson's prospects as part of the new Fallout, Konchu Hao still reigned supreme as the true master and ruler of the brand.

    But what DOES irk the Mad Wizard is Phillip's comments prior to the match that resulted in Shawn Summers absconding with the TV Title. As Konchu recalls those words, he looks over to Epsilon.

    "Epsilon...are you happy?"

    Epsilon, taking a sip of hot cocoa, looks at Konchu with a quizzical head tilt before replying with more garbled words.

    "It's just...I know I created you to be my assistant and minion, but I would hope that our relationship has become something more equal than that over time. I do consider you my best friend, and my most trusted confidant. But if I've mistreated you in any way, or held you back from your own ambitions..."

    Epsilon, suddenly, slams his hand on the table, shutting Konchu up. The Mad Wizard is shaken as Epsilon says, very forcefully:

    "Ilo patya fizzak! Qualzok vezex Jubakara, Jubakara! Rettok nuilic swouq."

    After getting over the initial shock of Epsilon's forceful rebuke, Konchu relaxes. And based on Epsilon's body language, the little minion wasn't angry at Konchu or saying he was being mistreated. Epsilon's tone was to make sure that his point landed.

    "Well, that's reassuring to hear. Not just because I'm going to need your help to navigate this mess of a conflict that Rupert and Cyrus have instigated, but because I truly value you as a companion and friend. And your affirmation does prove what I've suspected about my immediate opponent on Fallout; that being, Phillip Jackson is little more than a fraud who can't look inwards.

    "The 'Cleanser.' What a farce! I hate zealots, Epsilon. I understand that faith and conviction are important, even for me as the Primogen of the Black Mass. Faith can carry you through all sorts of trials and tribulations. Conviction helps to keep one focused. Cyrus Truth is a prime example of that. However, Cyrus's conviction also is his greatest weakness, as it leaves him rigid and unable to adapt, to take actions that would make victory easier because it would offend his sensibilities. Thankfully, I've never had the problem of dogmatic sensibilities!

    "Even so, I can at least respect Cyrus for staying true to who and what he is. Phillip is the worst kind of zealot. The kind that changes and drifts in the wind if it suits him. This new 'Cleanser' persona is an absolute joke, you know. As if Phillip Jackson is the one best suited to be the arbiter of what is just and decent in wrestling! Wanting to cleanse wrestling of the wicked and soiled is a fool's errand being spearheaded by a fool who's hands are far dirtier than anyone in that Six Man match save for Shawn Summers.

    "The problem with zealots is that they always look outwards. They always look at those around them and see all the flaws of their compatriots because they believe that they are right, that they are just, that they deserve and are obligated to expose those blemishes to the world. But I have always looks inwards, Epsilon. Because I know I'm not a balanced, sane individual. But in my madness, I've been able to delve into the greater mysteries and truths about the world and myself. I judge others by what they are, yes...but never by ignoring who and what I am. Phillip? He can talk about introspection all he wants, but all I've seen is a pitiful man trying to cling onto the embers of a faded career that ended so many Back in Businesses ago when he failed to unify the World Titles."

    Konchu looks back at the tablet, as several different videos play in different windows of Phillip as the babyface sensation, the scorned and hated heel, and the desperate soul trying to find his place and role in the greater weave of FWA. The Mad Wizard lets out a disgusted scoff as he closes all the videos and hands the tablet back to Epsilion.

    "Epsilon, I've never cared much about the paradigm or personalities of the adversaries I fight. But I absolutely, positively DESPISE individuals who can't just admit what and who they are. As much of a zealot for his cause as he is, I at least respect the fact that Cyrus has always been true to his convictions. I have no such respect for cretins like Phillip Jackson. He is, was, and always will be an absolute wretch, a horrid little creature that deep down revels in being an absolutely awful individual. I know this, because Phillip has enjoyed his greatest successes when he stopped pretending to be some kind of virtuous soul and just flat-out let his awfulness spill out for all the world to see. The very concept of HIM being some sort of arbiter of what is pure and what is corrupted is absolutely arrogant and delusional.

    "I can't allow myself to fall to such a person. War is coming to Fallout, and while I've told Cyrus that I want no part in it? I'm also not so foolish as to not recognize the opportunity that it provides. Distractions and openings that weren't there before are now available. And above all that? Jason Randall needs a lesson in consequences. So, I have to..."


    "...My, my. When did you become so bloodthirsty?"

    "Cyaz javan?"

    "Fair enough. But yes. I have to destroy Phillip. I have to end his little pitiful comeback tour before it has a chance to begin. Not only because Phillip Jackson existing is an affront to my sensibilities and an anchor around the neck of Fallout's roster threatening to drag us all down into the abyss of mediocrity and wasted effort, but because I need to remind Fallout AND Meltdown's wrestlers what happens when you raise the ire of a Master of the Dark Arts. This war, as distracting as it is, is the opening that we needed, Epsilon. The opening to ascend and take the throne that was denied to me by fools like Daniel Toner. And if I need to build that throne out of the skulls of zealots and fools who dare to cross me? can't be mad at me for recycling something that my adversaries clearly weren't using and making something worthwhile out of it, right? KEHAHAHA!"

    Epsilon nods eagerly. It's clear that, despite not having a horse in the Fallout-Meltdown showdown, Konchu and Epsilon have been re-energized. Chaos is a ladder, after all. One that Konchu is all too familiar with, and one he's not opposed to using in the slightest.

    Phillip A. Jackson? A mere roadblock that Konchu Hao will shatter with his mystic arts and superior technique. And sending a World Champion crashing down back into irrelevance and the muck that he crawled out of? Well, the Mad Wizard can't help but feel a certain sense of satisfaction at the prospect.

    And the battered, bloodied, and broken body of the so-called "Cleanser?"

    Well...what could better serve as a warning to The Wildcard who had the gall to put his hands on Konchu Hao...?
    Something Witty!

    Cyrus Truth
    4x FWA World Heavyweight Champion
    1x FWA North American Champion
    Carnal Contedership 2016 Winner
    2x CWA World Heavyweight Champion
    1x PnH International Champion

    Konchu Hao
    1x FWA X Division Champion
    Ground Zero Winner (Season 2)

  25. #25

    Join Date
    Sep 2008
    Rep Power
      Country                    England

    Re: Fallout | ‘The Granary’ | Promo Thread

    Island Diaries with Phillip A. Jackson

    Welcome to another episode of Island diaries, today '' speaks to Phillip A. Jackson about how he is finding the island and speaking to him ahead of his match with Konchu Hao, who pinned the slumping future hall of famer in the six pack challenge for the Television Championship. We joined Phillip as he settled into his accommodation on Fallout General Manager Rupert Watkins' private island, which plays host to Fallout this week.

    Please note: is working in conjunction with FWA to promote this event


    The scene opens to Jackson dragging in a suitcase into a temporary and small apartment. The accommodation has been put up quickly, so many of the buildings are identical to one another. Jackson is at the far end of the row nearest to where the event will take place. Jackson is wearing a white short sleeve shirt, a pair of navy shorts and brown loafers. Jackson puts his suitcase inside and turns back around and walks towards the coast. He doesn't even look in his room. Jackson has a short walk to the coast. Jackson turns and speaks to the camera.

    Welcome to the paradise of Rupert's private island. Some people would call this paradise. With paradise being a place where you can relax. Where you can take your mind off of everything. Where you can sit in the sun and relax all day. Not me, this might be your paradise but this is not mine. My mind is racing and as I stand here in “paradise”. How would I put it best about what I am thinking, there is an old cliché where directors ask, what is your motivation? That is a question that has been pinging around in my mind. I've been searching for it and wanting to understand what is mine?


    I've already got enough to retire


    No, that's already secure.


    Did I get drawn in by the red carpet being rolled out?

    ...or even delusion?

    Maybe the other guy was right...No, that's not possible...

    Jackson stops for a couple of second and deliberates on what he just said. He dismissively shakes his head and carries on walking.

    That is the problem for me, it isn't obvious why I came back. I thought I came back for the fans but other than my return, they haven't been as welcoming as I would have thought. I thought I came back to be the focal point of Fallout, but that's not true either. Was it a rush of blood? Did it happen too quickly? Did I fool myself from the reaction at the Speedway? I have too much time on my hands.

    Jackson stops as grass breaks into sand. Jackson stands and looks out into the ocean but he is not relaxed. Jackson has tensed up.

    It's hard right now because Rupert is obsessed with booking shows in obscure places. In a Principality where you can by a knighthood or on his own private island. Places where the isolation eats away at you. Lets just say I won't be going tribal any time soon, I enjoy the finer things in big city life. I suppose that Sealand wasn't so bad but having to stay in Felixstowe beforehand isn't exactly the high life. I don't care about a hunk of sand and some trees in the middle of the sea. That is not living, that is running. There is nothing to do here, all you do is think and think and think. Especially someone like me, who has just come back and has not really had a chance to get to know the roster and we have a general manager who is just a giant show off, I am ashamed of myself for falling for his BS.

    Jackson lowers himself to the ground and sits on the beach staring out into the water.

    Rest assured, though, this is not a pity party. I am not here feeling sorry for myself but I need to bring myself back to reality. In reality, some people would call a private island paradise but paradise is hell and hell was polluting me.

    Jackson taps aggressively at the side of his head over and over...




    It eats away at you. The isolation drives you insane. It dirties your mind and you cannot focus on anything other than your failings. This is not what I wanted. Spending my time overthinking, overanalysing and having nothing to show for my return but I know the second I step through the curtain this is gone. It is the one place I get clarity, where I know exactly what I need to do but I have still been burdened by my own mind. Last week, my mentality changed because it was my chance to turn this around. It was my chance to do something new in my career. Those are rare now but I was denied the chance to be the FWA Television Champion. I was denied by my opponent this week...Konchu Hao and I would love to speak to him directly. I would love if he was standing right there in front of me but since you are there with your camera, I will speak directly to him and all I ask is you make sure he sees this.

    Jackson gets back to his feet and stares straight forward with a disgusted smirk on his face, as if he is imagining Konchu Hao standing in front of him.

    Because of you, I have had to pause “the new era of television”. It was going to be glorious. For your sins, it is time to exact revenge. You may have pinned me, but let me be clear. It is not something to be proud of because you did not finish the job. It was a “victory” of sorts but at best over me, it was a pyrrhic victory. You should not take pride in it. History will tell you that. Was there pride for Britain in the Battle of Bunker Hill? It was a victory but there was no pride. It is considered a pyrrhic victory. They lost more than they gained in the end and it was a victory that ultimately made things worse. It changed strategy and it cost them everything in the end.

    Jackson scoffs and laughs at the same time as if a light bulb has gone off above him. Jackson smiles and rubs his chin. He stares to the left and continues but is getting more aggressive in his tone as he speaks.

    How apt. A pyrrhic victory that made things worse, where you lost more than you gained. You didn't win the match, you still lost. Your arm was not raised and you were not crowned the Television Champion. You lost more than you gained. You have also done something I never thought possible, in this analogy, I am the Americans. I have changed strategy, I have become more aggressive and pinning me will cost you everything. You have drawn my ire, my focus. That might not mean as much as it used to but being stuck on this hell of an island, I have also found that shifting my focus allows me to think about all is in front of me. Since I got here, my focus has shifted from my own failings to the man who will be standing across from me. It has allowed me to cleanse the thoughts of my shortcomings or what I have perceived as my shortcomings since I returned. I think about what you denied me, I think about being denied history. I am a history maker, I was the ninth man in the history of FWA to be a Triple Crown Champion that is my legacy. I have always prided myself on being the one to make history and being able to usher in a new championship, with my name attached to it, it would have been perfect. I don't mean that selfishly either, it would have been mutually beneficial. A legend carrying this company into a new era of television but you destroyed my grand vision. You destroyed the potential of my vision. That is not something that I will ever take lightly.

    Jackson is staring a hole through the camera as he breathes heavily. His eyes singularly focused and there is no hint of blinking. Jackson uses the pause to gather his breath

    What annoys me more, is not that my vision was stolen. It is that it was YOU who did it. I was a bastion of hope for this company, I carried it on my back. When all the legends abandoned a sinking ship and left FWA on a crappy little island like this one, I stepped up. I was not alone in that but I forged my legacy alongside a number of what they called “the new era”. The Summer of Shane following by the Era of Jackson and then my Golden Opportunity win but I am not here to reminisce about what happened years ago. My legacy stands among the best in history because I put in the work, because I take this business seriously and because I am one of the best to ever lace my boots in this company. That seems to have been forgotten and in the ring on this hell island, I will start to remind everyone of the man I used to be. I will remind everyone that I was once the most feared man in FWA. You are the next in line to see this and it doesn't take a magician to understand there is no illusion, there is no trick to me. I will put my head down and try and run straight through you, to become the killer I used to be and to cleanse this god-damn company of all this mockery and of all this hatred of me. This company isn't the one I left and I am not the man that left this company. It is different now, I understand. I have become the very thing I used to hate but I get it now.

    Jackson turns away from staring out into the water and begins to turn back the way he came to head back to his housing.

    Konchu, I want to be clear with you. You have earned that much. It is not your work in the ring I am upset by. I respect your work. You are professional and you would not have gotten this far without being good. It is your presentation. In the ring, you are good, I'm not too proud to admit that. You got the best of me last week, you have to be good to do that. Your presentation strikes me as afraid. Any man behind a mask is too scared to stand across the ring and look their opponent in the eye, any man behind a mask is to scared to be ashamed, to show emotion and to be real. I want to see everything, I want everyone to see exactly what is running through my head and most importantly, they all want to see my face. The money maker. It is what made me a star, it is what made me a household name in this company. This face, front and centre. No opportunities to hide, no opportunities to conduct bullshit and no opportunities to lie. It is the same with this place, why would you run and hide. There is no integrity to a man behind a mask because you cannot be held accountable. You can do whatever the hell you want in public because no-one knows who you are, yet when you stand in the ring they all chant your name. How is that fair? I sacrifice my right to a normal life through what I do. I hold myself accountable in public because I am a superstar. All those little things you can get away with, sitting down at a restaurant and not having some brat come up to you for an interview and his fat, neck beard dad wearing a 1990s wrestling t-shirt who thinks he has some right to speak to me because of what I do. I have to put up with it, do I want to? Hell no but I am a professional and I suck up and I smile and I speak to them, I give the brat an autograph and maybe a picture and have a casual conversation with his dad while I could be having a nice time eating my dinner in peace. Then I come back, three years later, and that brat and his dad boo me. They show me no respect. They don't bow at my feet like they should. Even after everything I did for them. I gave the kid exactly what he would want, I was perfectly polite and yet you can go outside the ropes and do whatever you want. You have no accountability, no need for professionalism, nothing to keep you in line. Am I jealous? No. I could not live with myself. I have to make sacrifices, it comes with the job and I would rather be in my situation where I have to give up some liberties to be a superstar, to be a future hall of famer and to be a two time world champion than hide in fear because that is what professionals do.

    Jackson adjusts his collar and sleeves, as if he was adjusting a suit as he continues to walk away from the beach back in the direction of his hut.

    Appearances are important and because of that you are scourge on pro wrestling. Not just for the lack of accountability but for being a wannabe comedy act. Have some decorum. Have some respect for this industry. This is where professionals play. Not some cuckoo who should lock himself in his lab and his magical mini assistant. If I speak about that little freak you have with you, I will lose it so I am going to keep this just about you. This is the exact type of thing that this business needs to destroy, the type of thing it needs to cleanse and luckily for FWA I have arrived. I am the cleanser of this industry and I will bring purity and respect back to this place. This is my turning point, this is my battle of bunker hill and I will begin my new campaign, my new warpath to recreate this industry in my image. You better god-damn believe it. See you soon, Konchu.

    Jackson blows a kiss at the camera with a massive smirk on his face. Jackson appears renewed his confidence in both his body language and his words. Jackson closes the door to his apartment as the scene fades to black.

  26. #26
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    Re: Meltdown XVIII | Get the F Out | Promo Thread.


    part two.

    Eighteen months later.
    Western Alberta. Spring, 1874.

    The container which I'd managed to sweet-talk a spot in for the journey out west was at the very tail of the train, and I sat with my legs dangling out of the back of it, its doors opened up so that I could get some air. Liz, the train driver's wife, promised to ensure my safe and comfortable passage to the rendezvous spot. So far she'd done well enough. It pained to require the assistance of anyone to make what was a relatively safe and routine trip, but my horse was full with a few too many bullets to make the journey. I'd buried him the night before the train. Liz was there, silent and watchful. She poured me a bourbon when I was finished. Liz is a good woman.

    I sat at the back of the train and smoked my pipe, watching as the landscape turned from forestry to lakeland, and then finally a patchwork of green grass and yellow rapeseed fields. Horses grazed in strangely regimented groups. Occasional haybails were strewn across the prairies like inanimate cows. I was alone, but I could hear music. The same song as always.

    When we reached Torl's Point, I grabbed my pack and jumped out onto the track. I didn't say goodbye to Liz's husband. He didn't know I was there, or so the story went. No point entangling him in this whole mess. The authorities didn't look too kindly on accomplices to train robbery. Liz didn't know I was wrapped up in all that. Or, more truthfully, I hadn't told her explicitly. I imagine she worked it out for herself, though. Liz is smart, and in many ways an extension of me. Her thoughts mirror mine. As I watched the train disappear into the distance, I made up my mind to return to Saskatchewan to say thank you in person, if I made it out of Coyote with all of my faculties intact.

    The camp was set up a mile and a half south of Torl's Point, just like the man said it would be. I was the last to arrive. I knew them all, but was acquainted with each of them to varying extents. There was the starry-eyed youngster that they called Diamondfist, who I knew only from afar, as well as the handsome man from out east. Both of them were younger than me by a good few turns of the earth, but I still fancied myself to beat them on the draw, if it ever came to that. The fourth and final of the party was Asombroso, the grizzly and now transient figure from south of the border who was older than even I was. I'd had my fair share of run-ins with the handsome man and Asombroso, but at least with the latter we'd settled into a rhythm of something resembling mutual respect. Dueling was a young man's game. Better to survive to see your share of the score.

    The three of them were sitting around a campfire and eating beans from pots. Only Asombroso nodded as I emerged through the line of connifer trees and into the small clearing where they'd built their fire. It was still light but wouldn't be for long.

    "Late," Diamondfist said. The whinnying of nearby horses punctuated his speech. "Lost your horse?"

    "Dead," I answered, as I took up the spare position at the fire and began to prepare my own food. Asombroso offered me a cup of what I soon found out was a strong and bracing whiskey. If I'd wanted to elaborate on the state of my horse, I wouldn't have been able to. The amber drove my breath away.

    "If only Parr was here," Asombroso started, whilst staring down into the campfire. "We'd have all of the Five Gangs in on this one."

    "Parr?" Diamondfist said with a scoff. "The three-fingered bandit is now missing a functioning heart, to go along with those absent digits. And all of us are lacking in gangs. This is the gang. Just the four of us."

    Diamondfist's tone was commonly brash and abrasive, but I sensed a hint of defeatism in his words, too

    "What happened to Parr?" I asked, ignoring the young man's goading and focusing on his news. "Dreamer?"

    Diamondfist didn't say anything in reply. He looked as though he was doing some thinking of his own. Asombroso took up the thread.

    "Not directly," he began, whilst pushing beans around in his bowl with his fork. "But what she did to him back east was enough to spell a slow death. He spent a whole year since embroiled in a petty dispute with some bastard down south. He won, too, but I don't think he had much heart left after the fight. One of his own men shot him and took what loot he hadn't already spent outside a tavern in Tijuana."

    There was a time when the three-fingered bandit's reach was long, despite his missing digits, and his name still commanded some semblance of respect. Picturing him lying face down in some Mexican back-alley felt unfitting. But the dour reactions of the other men suggested that Asombroso was telling the truth.

    Suddenly, Diamondfist punctuated the ensuing silence by spitting on the floor next to him.

    "Fucking Dreamer," he said. That was all.

    "What did she take from you?" I asked. My beans were ready and I started them too eagerly, burning the roof of my mouth. Fortunately I wasn't expected to speak again for a while. Diamondfist was equally eager to tell his tale.

    "What didn't she take?" he started. "Our lives would be quite different right now if it wasn't for Dreamer. We should've done something about her when we had the chance."

    "She was the law back then," Asombroso interjected. "Sheriff."

    "So?" Diamondfist shot back, his one-word question laced with an accusation of cowardice. "Wouldn't have been the first time. And it's been a while since she wore the badge. Dreamer's an outlaw now. Same as the rest of us. She was already on the wrong side of the law by the time I met her, shortly after her business with Parr. She'd traded her sheriff's star for ill-gotten jewels, which she'd looted from the corpse of some wealthy Irishman. Something about the endless parade didn't sit right with me. Each of us here, all four of us, have increased our wealth through nefarious tactics at one point or another. But Dreamer… she was goading me."

    He paused to set aside his food, which was by now cold and unappealing, and looked into the fire. For a while, it was unclear if he was going to go on, until eventually he did.

    "I was in a town just outside of Milwaukee, in a saloon with some generic name and even more generic interior, when I first saw her. Well, it was the jewels that hung around her neck that I saw first. Emerald and amethyst, hanging from a thin golden chain with a clasp of silver doves. The girl seemed frail and weak, and with no titles or much of a name, even. No employ. Nobody to vouch for her. Yet she was here, exhibiting this exorbitant wealth with apparently no source. I surmised that it was ill-gotten, correctly, and declared it fair game.

    "I was in no particular hurry. The girl seemed happy to stick around, and couldn't seem to help but parade herself and her trinkets for all to see. So I waited, and I watched… for perhaps too long. For one evening, she walked into our genetic tavern with a pale and bare neck. Her prized prize was gone, and so was her smile."

    Another pause. I noted Asombroso shuffling uncomfortably upon the tree stump that he sat on. Diamondfist drank from his cup but found that it was empty. He held it out towards the southerner, who promptly topped it up with bourbon.

    For my own part, I listened carefully, my face a stone wall. I didn't let on that I knew the jewels that he spoke of, though my mind drew a picture of the eccentric highwayman I'd taken them off at the culmination of long, arduous toil.

    The handsome man said nothing, and smoked his lavender cigarettes.

    "As for me, I was despondent. I'd gathered enough wealth from other scores to make Dreamer's jewels next to meaningless, and yet I could not be consoled. I travelled north, into the wilderness, and left my affairs to my second. My operation out east dwindled into nothing, my gang into extinction. But I didn't think of this. As the winter snows built, my mind was always drawn back to Dreamer, and the green and gold jewels she wore around her neck.

    "The time came for me to return south, if only to increase my chances of getting a sniff of her. I gathered what was left of my gang - three men and a pair of boys - and headed out west, taking a job near the Rockies to get my name back in the game. I didn't know what was on board. Gold, I was told. Some vague hint about the thirteenth spring service to Denver."

    Without my permission, my eyebrow cocked at the mention of the train. Of this particular train. I don't think Diamondfist himself noticed it, for he was too embroiled in the telling of his tale. As for Asombroso and the handsome man, I couldn't say. Both kept their cards close to their chests.

    "Call it fate, call it coincidence, call it destiny… divine providence or dumb luck… when my men cranked open the cargo, the first thing that my eyes fell upon was that glittering gold chain with its emeralds and amethysts. And now it was mine. I let my men take what they wanted from the rest of the loot. That was all I wanted."

    His tone grew wistful as he neared the end of his story. Something about him suggested that he was a defeated man. He was here, ostensibly, for the early morning train, and a score that the handsome man promised would be worth the long journey. But his heart and his mind were both elsewhere.

    "She was waiting for me less than a mile from the track. Her and that fucking horse. She knew which way I'd be travelling. Knew when the train was, how many of us there would be… everything. And she was quick. Maybe if I was mounted, I'd have stood a chance. She got me once, right under the heart…"

    The young man was absently rubbing at the wound in the described location. I watched his fingers gently working away at the bruising. Even when it had physically healed, his mind would still be on it.

    "She took the jewels and left me for dead. I would've, too, if I wasn't… found," he paused in order to take a short involuntary glance towards the handsome man, who didn't return it. "But I didn't see her, her horse, or her emeralds again. Only meagre scores."

    And not even that for long, I thought. Though I didn't speak. We needed the numbers for tomorrow, and I didn't want to scare the young man off. His heart was already faltering.

    "I knew Dreamer, or at least of her, when she still wore the badge, as Devin did also," Asombroso began, taking up the story in his own laconic tones. "The Bandit Queen. That's what some call her, now. But back then, that title belonged to another, and has only since been mis-appointed to our Dreamer. Do you know how she came to give up the badge?"

    "She was shot by some whore," Diamondfist offered. "Rode out of town on her horse. Left the badge in the sheriff's office for the deputy to find."

    Asombroso paused. I detected that he didn't like the young man's sharpness. But then again, I knew which whore it was that put a bullethole in Dreamer.

    "Yes, shot by some whore," Asombroso conceded. "By a woman named Belle, with whom I am acquainted in ways that your foe only ever dreamed of. It is in this way that my life is entangled with Dreamer's, and these jewels that you speak of - of which I know a little, and will fill in some gaps in your story - play only a minor role in my own tale. I didn't see her for three months, during which time she had left her service, and I had left mine. The money to be made in corruption was waning, and so any worth in official employ that I found within the government dwindled out. I moved north, and took Belle with me, and assumed that this would be the last we'd ever see of Dreamer. But the girl is nothing if not… persistent.

    "She arrived at my manor along the northern border, riding her horse and with nothing but her six-shooter at her side and a neck gleaming with emeralds. The amethysts shone more cool beneath the pale moonlight. She told me she'd come for Belle. Belle told her she didn't want to go. Dreamer said she'd come for her anyway."

    He stopped to fill his own cup and drink deeply from it. I looked out across the canyon, my eyes slowly scanning each of the snow-capped peaks in front of me. In the twilight, the sun cast its final rays out onto the uppermost crevices of only the tallest mountains, illuminating them in an odd glow that almost seemed to come from within the rock itself. The peaks were like paintings in a museum, granted the privilege of the evening's dying light whilst the rest of us were subjected to the first throws of the oncoming gloom. Eventually, the sun would retreat low enough for only the tallest and most distant summit to catch its glow. It looked like a burning beacon, but what it proclaimed I wasn't sure.

    "We walked ten paces on the dirt path in front of my old manor and drew. She was quick, but I was quicker. I put a second hole in her, right above the one that Belle made. I'd have finished the job, but she changed my mind. Instead, I took the chain from around her neck, and left her to rot. The Doctor tells me her horse dragged her to his house in the middle of the night and he got the bullet out of her. Smart animal. Or maybe stupid. I don't know."

    "What happened to the jewels?" Diamondfist asked. He knew that Asombroso didn't hold them, still. They'd resurfaced, at least in his perception, when he'd hi-jacked the thirteenth spring service to Denver. The intermittent months remained hidden from him, it seemed. Interesting.

    "I arranged to sell them, to our friend here," Asombroso continued, with a nod towards the handsome man. "In Oxtown."

    The stonewall defense of my facial expression continued, but again my interest was piqued by the mention of the tiny town south-east of here where the proposed deal was to go down. Diamondfist was already out of the picture by then, a recluse in the far north whilst his gang dwindled away in size and stature. Dreamer was also licking her wounds, embroiled in a turf war with a bandido named Verdad to the south. But I was in Oxtown, and so was my horse. Back when he still ran free, the wind blowing through his red mane.

    "What happened in Oxtown?" Diamondfist insisted. It was difficult to say if his curiosity or his anger was showing more. Asombroso winced at the question, and even the handsome man's eyes were drawn away from the fire for a mere moment.

    "It's not a particularly fond memory," the southerner went on. "As a man who has made a living out of swindling, to admit to being swindled isn't easy. But that's what happened. The deal was done, and the horses being loaded. A stableboy told us that our friend's horse had bolted, but when we checked the stables Rondo was quite fine and present. The stableboy described a grey horse, onto which he'd loaded the quarry, and which had ran through the doors as soon as the saddle was mounted. He was lucky to get away with his life, he said. I didn't let him do so."

    That the stableboy wasn't alive to describe the horse in more detail was unfortunate for him, but quite the victory for me. If the lad had been allowed to elaborate on the horse's silver coat and its bright red mane, perhaps its identity could've been more swiftly placed. All for naught, though. The highwayman had intercepted Redmane before I could get to him. The poor beast hadn't been the same since.

    "I didn't even think of Dreamer for most of the year, until she arrived unexpectedly at this summer's peak," Asombroso continued. "Once again, she came to my manor, but this time she came on foot, her six-shooter in her hand. She told me she'd come for Belle. Belle told her she didn't want to go. Dreamer said she had come for her anyway.

    "Ten paces in front of the manor, once more. This time, she was quicker. She put a hole in my shoulder, and another in my gut. Belle stayed with me, at my side, as Dreamer approached.

    "'I don't have your jewels,' I told her

    "'I haven't come for the jewels,' she replied. 'I've come for her.'

    "Still, Belle wouldn't go. She covered me when Dreamer lifted her weapon to expel its third, fatal shot, laying atop of my unconscious frame until she finally gave up. Dreamer rode away alone, and Belle went to find the Doctor."

    He said no more after this, but scratched at the bullet hole on his right shoulder. When he realised the tick he put a stop to it, and reached again for his cup. The stars now held dominion overhead.

    "When did you first meet Dreamer?" Diamondfist asked, of me. I thought my silence had gone hitherto unnoted, but the young man's redirection of the conversation suggested otherwise.

    "A long time ago," I stared, whilst packing the end of my pipe. "Back when she still had the badge. I guess she'd heard about some score I'd made near her office. Silver, mostly. Word got to me that she was trying to cut me off at Trawler's Pass. But Redmane was swift back then. I made the Pass and escaped west, arriving with enough time to look back over the foothills and see the sheriff upon her Gigi."

    Redmane was swift back then. Swift, and obedient. The night I buried him came back to me. The musk in the air. The hard grey rock that lay a foot or two below the earth. The harsh taste of Liz's bourbon. There was nothing for it. Had to be done.

    "What happened to Redmane?" Diamondfist asked.

    Good question.

    The horse had been fine for a long time following the chase to Trawler's Pass. Swift, strong, and seemingly without fatigue. The beast had acted admirably at Oxtown, too, playing his role in the swindle to perfection. That the highwayman who called himself Maverick, a foreigner even more so than the rest of us, took the quarry from the beast before he'd dutifully brought it back to me was just… a quirk of fate. Something I righted not long after. History is there to be written, after all.

    But after his brief tryst with Maverick, Redmane had not been the same. Less ready to throw himself into risky business than he had been before, perhaps. And as a result, less obedient. The beast was lame, or becoming lame. Better a clean death.

    Not that I told any of them this.

    "He just got old," I answered, finally.

    "And what about Dreamer?" Diamondfist asked. "You never saw her again?"

    "From afar, and only once."

    "You don't want to share?" Diamondfist asked. His eyes were piercing. I wondered what it was to him. "In the spirit of the evening?"

    Asombroso had oddly fallen silent, though his gaze belied the fact that he wanted me to go on, too. The handsome man still smoked his lavender cigarettes.

    "I believe she was going to hi-jack one of my trains once. Only someone else got there first."

    I didn't have to mention the thirteenth spring service to Denver. The realisation was plain in the young man's visage. He didn't know that the bullet that found its way into him had my name on it.

    "I heard she's lying low again," Asombroso said. "If we had any sense, we'd probably do the same."

    "We've got a job to do here," Diamondfist replied. "And besides, she's half the country away. I heard she lost some barfight out west to this hulk of a man. Took everything she had on her."

    "Your jewels too?" Asombroso asked.

    "Probably," Diamondfist answered, with a shrug. The handsome man's grip on the satchel next to him hardened slightly. Ever so slightly. "Beats me."

    Nobody said anything for quite some time, until the young man was agitated enough to do so.

    "You've never met her?" Diamondfist asked, of the handsome man.

    He looked up from the fire, meeting the young man's gaze in a cool and distant fashion.

    "Not yet," he said. Nobody else spoke that night.

    In the early morning, when I awoke at the appointed time to travel to the tracks, two of the tents had been packed up and two of the horses taken. Only the handsome man's steed remained. I missed Redmane, and I missed Liz.

    I wasn't interested in Asombroso, though, or the silver-tongued youngster. It was the handsome man, and specifically the contents of his satchel, that held my curiosity.

    Ill-gotten, and belonging to another.

    So, I stayed.

    Dreamer was far away, and preoccupied, and nothing to worry about.

  27. #27
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    Re: Fallout | ‘The Granary’ | Promo Thread

    Meltdown: One Year Anniversary Show
    Estadio Azteca in Mexico City, Mexico
    July 25th, 2022

    After witnessing an assault on Cyrus Truth at the hands of Fallout's Undisputed Alliance, a Meltdown camera crew does their best to catch up with the assailants. Before the camera person can speak to them, Fenix grabs the camera and forces it to center on his face.

    Jackson Fenix: "Did you see that Meltdown?! Did you see what we did to your little savior Cyrus Truth?! Some savior you have there; he looks more like a chump!"

    Jackson shifts the camera to Nate.

    Nate Savage: "There's more where that came from, and if anyone else from Meltdown has the guts, then come find us; we aren't hard to find!"

    Nate shoves the camera down on the floor, and footsteps scatter off in the distance.


    One hour later and we now find Savage and Fenix licking their wounds of war after eating respective chair shots from Cyrus Truth and Devin Golden. The two friends are sitting outside of the stadium where Meltdown took place.

    Jackson Fenix: "I wish we hadn't agreed to take part in this invasion! That chair shot hurt! Do they use different chairs here at Meltdown?"

    Nate Savage: "No, I'm pretty sure they have normal steel chairs as we have at Fallout."

    Jackson Fenix: "I don't know, man, when Cyrus Truth hit me in the back with that chair, it felt extra hard… that's what she said!"

    Nate sighs and shakes his head at his friend's immaturity.

    Nate Savage: "I wouldn't have agreed to this if I had known Kayden Knox would lead it! Suddenly, he grows a set and has this false sense of security and thinks he's hot shit!"

    Jackson Fenix: "I STILL don't get what Gabby sees in that dweeb! He's always been a lost cause, and this new attitude and look won't change that! Sooner or later, his true colors will show, and Gabby and Toner will dump his loser ass to the curb!"

    Nate Savage: "At least at the next show, we have him and Gabby in a non-title match."

    Jackson Fenix: “Non-title? Lame! They're too cowardly to put the titles on the line so soon?!"

    Nate Savage: "They didn't even win them fairly in the first place if you ask me; they used Toner's time machine or whatever it is that he uses."

    Jackson Fenix: "To beat them at their own game, why don't we steal it from them? Technically it doesn't even belong to Toner; he stole it from Devin Golden!"

    Nate Savage: "That's a great idea, but we don't know where they keep that thing stored."

    Fenix hangs his head low, and they sit silently for a few minutes. It's just them sitting outside the stadium as everyone else has already left, so it's silent and dimly lit.

    Jackson Fenix: "Hey, I have an idea!"


    A few days later, we find our heroes sitting inside an office across from an empty desk. Fenix is dressed in his usual Britney Spears t-shirt and jeans, while Nate is wearing a black t-shirt with their UA logo on it and black track pants.

    Nate Savage: "Are you sure this is going to work?"

    Jackson Fenix: "I'm positive…maybe."

    The door to the office swings open, and a man in a suit and tie walks in and greets the two friends. The man is about average height with short hair and some facial hair.

    "Jackson Savage and Nate Fenix, I presume?"

    Jackson Fenix: "It's uh, Jackson Fenix and Nate Savage, and I'm Jackson, and that's Nate."

    "My apologies; well, it's nice to meet you both today."

    The man takes a seat at his desk and leans forward.

    "Gentlemen, my name is Chase Green; how can I help you today?"

    Jackson Fenix: "Well, Mr. Green, I heard from someone that you practice in legal action, correct?"

    Chase Green: "That is correct; Chase is on the case!"

    Jackson Fenix: "Hey, I like that, that rhymes!"

    Nate begins to grow impatient and butts in on the conversation.

    Nate Savage: "Listen, Chase, we have a case for you."

    Chase Green: "Well, what seems to be troubling you that you come all this way to me?"

    Jackson Fenix: "Well, I heard from a reputable source again."

    Nate Savage: "You don't know what reputable means because I wouldn't call your source reputable."

    Chase Green: "Now hold on, who is this reputable source, if I may ask?"

    Jackson Fenix: "I think his name was Josh Drake. I don't know; I wasn't listening to what he was trying to talk to me about, but I know he said something about coming to you for legal action."

    Chase Green: "Ah yes, Mr. Drake. I'm afraid I must agree with your friend here; he is not what I would call a reputable or reliable source. He tried to take action on something with the Machu Picchu and how they spell that name or something; I don't remember if I'm being honest."

    Jackson Fenix: "Yeah, he was a weirdo. Anyway, we came here today to present a case. We're professional wrestlers, and we have a match against this team called Bad Reputation, Kayden Knox and Gabrielle Montgomery."

    "You see, the thing is, they're tag team champions, but they didn't win them fairly. At least we don't think they did. They used some time traveling vehicle or whatever to go back in time to help themselves win the titles. That has to be some form of cheating, am I right?"

    Chase Green: "That would be cheating, yes. Now, did they defeat you two?"

    Jackson is about to answer, but Nate cuts him off and answers for him.

    Nate Savage: "Uh, yeah, they beat us. They cheated us out of our tag team championships!"

    Chase nods, but he looks uncertain about something, turns to his computer, and begins to type away rapidly.

    Chase Green: "It says here that they defeated Stu Grimes and Caesar, the Men out of Time, so you guys are Grimes and Caesar and not Fenix and Savage?"

    Jackson looks nervously at Nate, who looks off elsewhere, wanting no part of this.

    Jackson Fenix: "Uh yeah, my name is Stu Grimes, but I use Jackson Fenix as a fake name to keep all the chicks away."

    Chase Green: "Right…and he's Caesar?"

    Jackson Fenix: "Uh…yeah…totally…hey, do you want to know one of my other fake names? It's Richard Long because Richard is another name for dick, and then my last name is Long and…uh…get it?"

    Chase doesn't look amused as Fenix trails off and looks down at the floor.

    Chase Green: "Let me cut to the chase."

    Jackson Fenix: "Hey, cut to the chase, that should be like your slogan or something because it's like your name or…yeah."

    Chase Green: "From what I can gather, you two want to sue Knox and Gabrielle for illegal use of time traveling, but since it didn't happen to you two, I'm afraid you have no case."

    Nate Savage: "Yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it."

    Chase Green: "What I can do, though, to ensure that the same thing that happened to Grimes and Caesar doesn't happen to you is that you two hire me as your agent."

    Jackson Fenix: "Aren't you like a lawyer? You do agent stuff too?"

    Chase Green: "You can say I dabble in both. Just know that if you have me at your side, nothing like that will ever happen to you."

    Jackson looks at Nate, and Savage shrugs.

    Nate Savage: "Whatever."

    Jackson Fenix: "You're hired!"

    Chase Green: "Great news! With my help, you two will be guided to great success!"

    Jackson Fenix: "It all starts at Fallout in the Granary, wherever that is. We have Gabrielle and Knox there in a non-title match. We beat them that night, and we'll surely be next in line for a title shot!"

    Chase Green: "If you do beat them and you're not granted an automatic title shot, I'll do everything in my power to ensure you that match!"

    Nate Savage: "I've beaten Knox before, but that was one-on-one. This time he has Gabrielle to back him up."

    Jackson Fenix: "So what? They've won a few matches together, and now they're champions, big deal. That doesn't mean that they have what we have. We've been teaming a lot longer, and we've been friends longer than them. We're former champs in our own right, and if we play it right, we could be champs again."

    Nate Savage: "You're right, Knox is still the same loser he always has been, and Gabby is a shell of her former self. She's way past her prime. She's just riding Knox's coattails, but she doesn't realize that it's a fruitless endeavor, and all he'll do is drag her down to his mediocrity, and they'll both fade off; into obscurity forever."

    Jackson Fenix: "While we reign supreme over Fallout!"

    Nate Savage: "That sounds undisputed!"

    The two friends bump fists while Walker claps for his new clients.

    Chase Green: "Here, take my card, and we'll be in touch!"

    Fenix takes the card and puts it in his pocket, but as he digs in, he pulls out a folded-up paper. Curiously, he unfolds the article, and it's one of those missing Krash posters that Jeremy Best has been leaving around.

    Nate Savage: "Why do you have that?"

    Jackson scans the paper in disgust, and he's about to crumple it up, but a thought comes to him, and he smiles.

    Jackson Fenix: "Hey, can I use that phone?"

    Chase Green: "Sure thing!"

    Fenix takes the phone and begins to dial the number from the missing Krash poster as the scene fades out.
    Rest in power, Flock U
    Rest in power, TCON

    Team Cyrus T is Best for Business


    Quote Originally Posted by Ed
    Stop the hating of the E-Feds. If you don't like something, that's fine, just ignore it and let the people who do enjoy what they're here on WC to do. Mocking them to make you feel less of a geek for being on a geek on a wrestling forum is lame. If you want to not read their posts, I can fix that for you.

  28. #28
    Toxic Attraction
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    May 2017
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    Re: Fallout | ‘The Granary’ | Promo Thread

    "Dinner Date"

    Kayden Knox walks outside his new apartment overlooking his hometown of Las Vegas. It's a view of the city he was still getting used to. Seeing it all from up here represents everything he’s gained and just how far he has come. The neon glow of the city looked like Christmas lights across the distance. Kayden couldn’t help but think to himself that this was life. The life he’d wanted, deserved, and worked towards for so very long. He had such a new outlook on life past the negative emotions, ideas, and notions that had seemed to weigh him down. Now, with this new perspective he could truly take in all he sees before him, and hell this was quite a view. One could even say it was an excellent view. Kayden had spent his whole life in the dirt now having a fine life of money, power, and fame. It was almost unbelievable that he’d come so far. He couldn’t help but smile as he poured himself a bottle of whiskey. He overlooked the city once more sipping on his drink before pulling out his phone from his pocket. Kayden scrolled through a number of different messages from names of his past from AJ Drake to Dr. Grimes to Montana Mercer before he got to Gabi’s name. He started to type out a message to her before erasing it. He then decided to call her, she had a ringtone playing that he assumed was her singing but, he wasn’t sure.

    Kayden Knox: Hey Gabi, how are you doing tonight? I was thinking why don't you and I go out for dinner?

    Gabrielle: Tonight…I might already have plans. I’d love too though…just maybe…

    Kayden Knox: Oh Gabi, come on I think you and I deserve to celebrate. I mean we did it. We beat MOOT. We become tag team champions, and we finally got our Tag Titles to celebrate with. Come on it’s my treat.

    Gabrielle: You know what. We really should celebrate getting our Tag Team Titles. I’ll see you soon Kayden.

    Kayden Knox: Awesome, I will see you tonight.

    Kayden hangs up his phone and turns back into his lavish apartment. He starts to get ready, feeling a bit nervous as he does so. Though not really sure why, it's only Gabi, she’s cool, we’re close, there’s nothing to be nervous about. Kayden then starts to think back to the last time he held a championship.

    Kayden Knox: Last time I held gold, I didn’t think I deserved it. I thought to myself that I had gotten it by a fluke. I let Nate Savage get in my head. I let Jackson Fenix play me like a fool. I allowed myself to become what they thought was a joke. I was a joke to them, and they never let me live it down I was a zebra who could never change his stripes. I was a loser. I am not a loser anymore. No, I am on top of the fucking world and this place is my oyster. I won’t be the joke anymore. I refuse to give into that. I know how far I have come, and I know how far I can fall. I never again want to be down in the dirt. I am not happy to just be champion now. If I do that, If I become that complacent. I will lose it all and that’s just not going to happen. I am not going into this alone anymore. I have Gabi by my side. I have the FWA World Champion Danny F’N Toner. That Savage, he took the X Championship from me once, and I refuse to lose to him again.

    Kayden makes his way to his closet placing the championship on his bed. He then goes through a number of different shirts and pants finally deciding on a black suit with dark blue pants. Kayden exits his apartment. He makes his way to an elevator he rides it down to the parking garage. He walks to his car seeing the one that Undisputed Alliance had vandalized walking past it to get to a brand-new Dodge Viper. He jumps in and starts to head towards the suite that Gabi was staying at.

    Elsewhere in Vegas in Gabrielle’s penthouse suite, she hangs up her phone, a smile crawling across her lips as she does so. Her attention falls upon her Fallout World Heavyweight Tag Team Championship belt, a sight that makes her smile grow even wider. She quickly shoots off a text, rain checking her other plans before she heads into her expansive walk-in closet full of the latest in expensive designer dresses. The return of Executive Excellence and a Championship bearing her name had Gabrielle living like a Goddess once again. She was only in Vegas for a matter of days, yet her closet is full of enough dresses to see her wear a different one every day for the rest of the year.
    Her whole world has changed so drastically for the better in recent weeks.

    Back In Business could have just been another disappointment of losing to someone that she should have never lost too. Instead, it was the start of all of this. Her World instantly changed as for the first time since 2015 she could call herself a Champion again. For the first time since returning in 2019 she had something she could look at and hold in her hands to know coming back was worthwhile. She’d proven all of her detractors, all of her doubters, especially herself wrong. Being a Champion again meant everything to her. She was confident again. All doors opened up for her again. The clothes she’d wear were largely gifted to her by designers keen to see their masterpiece worn by a Goddess.

    She picks out a silky silver dress. The backless dress boasts a very high hemline and a plunging neckline. She slides into it, admiring how much of her caramel skin it flaunts and the way her curves are so shown off. Tonight, could be a fun night, she doesn’t know quite what Kayden expects, but she does have a reputation for sleeping with people on the first date. Was this a date, or just a celebration between friends? She’d blown off dinner with Jean-Luc to spend it with Kayden instead. Any thoughts of just what the night could entail are broken as her phone chimes, a message from Kayden letting her know he’s there. She steps into her favorite pair of Louboutin stilettos and then heads down to meet him. Her eyes admire the Dodge Viper he’s pulled up in and how sharply he’s dressed. He holds the door open for her and she steps inside the V10 monster with Kayden then does the same.

    The two would drive off, a quick jaunt through the streets of Las Vegas soon bringing them to the restaurant. The place was called Angel's, a very high-scale upper-crust establishment that Kayden had always wanted to go to, but never felt like he’d fit in there. Now though, he knows he belongs, especially with Gabrielle on his arm. With a confident smirk, Kayden pulled into the front and tossed the keys at the valet before walking over to the passenger side door and opening it for Gabi.

    Kayden Knox: M’lady.

    Gabrielle graciously steps outside of the car and then takes Kayden's hand before the two of them walk into the restaurant whose ceiling was painted with what looks like the night sky with little stars above. There was a man playing the piano in the corner. This was a high society place. One of which Kayden was not used to. He turns to Gabi as she reads the room.

    Kayden Knox: Anyone that you know?

    Gabrielle: Oh, I’m sure I’ve brushed shoulders with so many of these people before. And look at how eager the staff is here to greet us; they know who I…know who WE are.

    Kayden Knox: I got to be honest, I am still getting used to all of this being out of the slums. I am getting used t