Revolution 9/8/22

[Danny]

We head to the arena where the pyrotechnics go off from the stage and the camera pans around to get a shot of the Revolution fans in attendance before panning to the commentary table where Corey Graves, Mauro Ranallo, and Tom Phillips are standing by.



Mauro Ranallo: Hello everyone and welcome to Revolution! I'm Mauro Ranallo alongside my partners Tom Phillips and former International Champion Corey Graves.

Tom Phillips: We are hot off the heels of another blockbuster Summerslam where rivalry's were ended, ones continued to grow and new champions were crowned like the great Danhausen!

Corey Graves: Ugh give me a break. The less said about that the better. How about we focus tonight on an old rivalry renewed as Cody Rhodes has returned to the UWF to take on Dean Ambrose.

Mauro Ranallo:That's going to be a barn burner for sure but if you want to see another all out brawl then look no further than Homicide vs Steve Austin for the Prime Time Medal!

Tom Phillips: Speaking of Prime Time, the new UWF Champion Edge is set to go against CM Punk in what's sure to be one for the ages.

Corey Graves: Plus Trent Seven has returned and he goes one on one with Leyton Buzzard.

Mauro Ranallo:And in our main event, we decide who the next challenger for Edge is when the former champion Seth Rollins takes on Batista, Sami Zayn and Shark Boy. All that and more on tonight's Revolution!




YOU THINK YOU KNOW ME


A familiar phrase echoes throughout the arena, leading into the opening bassline of Headlong Flight by Rush and with it, a chorus of boos. However, as each instrument joins into the song, smoke begins to fill the stage and before long, a figure walks out from behind the stage into the smoke. No bounding from one side to the other, Edge moves slowly, like a predator taking in his surroundings in order to best pounce on his prey. The crowd is not shy with their disdain for the Ultimate Opportunist, showering him in boos as he stalks down the ramp, UWF Championship strapped around his waist. Halfway down, he pauses, crouching low, his face contorting as he bares his fangs and in one motion, uncoils upwards, his hands held high with devil horns as pyro explodes behind him.


As the pyro finishes exploding, Edge slowly brings his head back to level and walks towards the ring. At the steps, he grabs the waiting microphone and ascends the stairs into the ring, taking his spot dead center of the empty ring. The fans were promised a title celebration to open the show, however Edge looks like he’s got anything other than celebrating on his mind. As he raises the microphone to speak, he’s interrupted by the fans, giving him one last showering of jeers, which only serves to put a smile on Edge’s face as he unstraps the title from around his waist and raises it high into the air as a response. This gives the crowd one last surge of negative energy before they peter out. Edge takes this time to slap the title onto his shoulder and address the UWF Universe

Edge
Two thousand, six hundred and forty-six days. Over seven years. That’s the amount of time between the last time I stood at the top of the UWF mountain and Summerslam, where I completed my ascent once again. Seth Rollins pulled as many tricks from his book as he could, but not only did I have them all scouted and countered, I gave him a taste of his own medicine each and every time. What Seth should have done before our match was check the cover of his book of tricks and he would’ve seen the author’s name and known he had no chance of besting me, because while he may have the book memorized cover to cover, I WROTE the damn thing.

So tonight I was told to have a celebration in the ring, to commemorate such a momentous occasion in both the UWF’s life and my own life. I was given the company credit card and told to spare no expense, so I did.

The fans murmur in confusion and crane their neck to the ramp, expecting a surprise to hit the stage since…well…the arena is basically empty. No balloons, no bands, no decor at all. Edge chuckles as he continues.

Edge
Oh, did you all think I’d waste money celebrating with you all? Please, I spent the company’s money setting up a celebration for the only people in my life that matter: My Family. My two precious daughters, my ass-kicking wife and you know what, just to tease you all, I’ll even invite Christian for being such a good sport babysitting. But none of you will get to see it, because none of you deserve to see it.

Once again, the boos come hailing in on the Ultimate Opportunist. While they don’t want to see the man celebrate a victory, a party is a party and they were hoping to see something beautiful and historic. Or at least someone bursting out of a large cake to kick Edge’s ass.

Edge
So what you’ll all get here tonight isn’t a title celebration, you’ll all get a title declaration. Because for far too long the pinnacle of the UWF has not been up to standards. From Seth Rollins and CM Punk all the way back to Dolph Ziggler and Cesaro, this title has been in the hands of B+ players. But 7 years ago, the UWF was so full of A+ players that we had three full shows just to keep the top from being too crowded. And the competition on each show thrived in that environment, iron sharpened iron and each week you had to improve just to even keep your job, let alone chase titles and glory. But even I’m not blind to how mismanaged the UWF was back then and hell, I benefited from that mismanagement and talked my way into a second world title match on the night I won my first in this company. And today, that mismanagement is gone and you get a company where only the best get their shot at glory…but the definition of “The Best” has been plummeting like the crypto markets.

The UWF of today deserves a legacy like it’s predecessor and starting today, we work towards building up that legacy. Because a B+ player getting a lucky A- on one test won’t be enough to be top of the class anymore. You’ll have to put in the work, raise your standards just to even stand across the ring from me and boy, do we have a lot of work to even get there. Look at our Fatal Four Way match tonight to see what I mean.

Edge gestures to the titantron where the fans in attendance are given a video package on the trash talking that’s been ongoing this week between Sami Zayn, Shark Boy, Batista, and Seth Rollins. As it plays, Edge can only shake his head. Once it finishes and the lights come back up, Edge presses forward.

Edge
A bunch of silver medalists trying to prove that they deserve to race against a gold medalist. They’re fighting each other to ultimately lose and they don’t even realize it yet. None of them have stepped up in a way that makes me drop even one bead of sweat. I just proved to the world that Seth Rollins was everything I said he was, a perennial disappointment who profited from lesser competition and here he is, right back near the front of the line. Even if he wins, he loses.

Then we’ve got Shark Boy, silver medalist in the Royal Rumble, silver medalist at Backlash, silver medalist at Final Battle and with just one, singular win over CM Punk, is right back in the line for a shot at gold. He can keep trying to catch that bouquet, but he will always fall short, because he just can’t climb high enough to even have a shot at reaching me. I’m sure he’s pleased as punch at beating CM Punk, but even that face painted freak has beaten Punk in his current state and I smoked him earlier in the King of the Ring. And tonight, I’ll wipe the floor with Punk personally and show that he’s not fit to be a peasant in my kingdom, let alone a gatekeeper.

The crowd boos the blatant disrespect to the Straight Edge Superstar, letting the UWF Champion know exactly where their support is for their match later tonight. Edge brushes them off and powers through, his words cutting through their boos until they quiet down.

Edge
Then there’s Batista. A man who is the epitome of underperformance. Both on the big screen and in the ring, if you look at Batista’s biggest wins in recent memory, two of them came in essentially unsanctioned brawls. He wasn’t good enough to get past Shark Boy in the King of the Ring, so why should I even think for a nanosecond that he’ll be the one to challenge me? Because he hired some new muscle? I’ve put down one face painted freak and one egomaniac enroute to this title and I’ll do it again to retain it. Sorry Dave, but you’ll have to keep toting that prop around pretending it’s good enough to be the real deal for a good while longer. Maybe you can edit it in post to look better, unlike all of your performances.

Edge pauses after those barbs to lick his teeth and gather his thoughts.

Edge
And that leaves Sami Zayn, the only man in the match I haven’t faced yet. He can spout all the conspiracies he wants, the fact of the matter is he’s just afraid of the truth. That he’s not good enough to reach the top. That the tag team scene is the only taste of UWF glory he’ll ever have and with that gone, will just cling to that one fleeting moment of relativity for the rest of his career. Why else would he call himself a “Forever Champion” and carry around a dead title week in and week out? It’s his teddy bear that helps him sleep at night, to help scare the boogeymen away and for him to clutch tight during his nightmares. But don’t worry Sami, you won’t have to worry about any nightmares…unless you somehow win tonight. Because while Cody Rhodes may call himself the American Nightmare, you’re all in the presence of the UWF’s nightmare. So you all best wake up and step up, otherwise you’ll all be in for a rude awakening as I show EC3 how much of a bad investment each and every one of you truly is.

And with that, Edge drops the mic and takes the title off of his shoulder and wraps it back around his waist. His music starts to play as the crowd starts to boo once more, but it’s drowned out by the sounds of Rush, playing Edge out of the ring and up the ramp to the back as the scene fades out.




The titantrons witches from the UWF graphic to a live feed from backstage where Renee Young is standing by.



Young: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time, CM Punk.

The Second City Saint walks into the shot, still sporting bumps and bruises from the clash his last unsuccessful outing. His eyes are clear but distant.

Young: Thanks for joining me, Punk. You came up short against Shark Boy at Summerslam but you've got an opportunity to rebound in a big way when you take on the newly-crowned UWF Champion Edge tonight. How are you feeling coming into this match? And win or lose, where do you think you land when the dust settles?

Brooks isn't quick to answer. The man who shoots from the hip with a faster trigger finger than anyone else in down is slow to the draw this time. He looks past Renee, past the camera and the lights, past the ring beyond that, past all of it. His breathing is slow, measured. This isn't the Punk who came back two winters ago looking to reshape Mount Rushmore. This isn't the Punk who waged a war against the idea of so-called secondary titles, nor the one who attempted to redefine the world championships. This isn't the Punk that's a self-described Renaissance Man. This isn't the Punk who's looking to add yet another notch on to an undefeated streak. This isn't a Punk defending anything or anyone. By any measure, this isn't a Punk who can be called Best in the World anymore, at least not today, and he knows it. The question of where that leaves him is written all over his face. It's on the tip of his tongue and at the back of his throat when he finally speaks up to respond.

Punk: I think... I think win or lose... huh...

He pauses, second-guessing himself before taking a deep breath and continuing.



Punk: I have nothing left to prove. No demonstrations, no explanations.

Not that I... I mean... I didn't get what I wanted. But I got close. I nearly got fu... aha... yeah, I nearly got everything. Maybe if I had just gotten a little bit more. Maybe what I needed was to get lucky... but, well, you know how it is, right?

Renee nods as she offers him back a line he's served so many times.

Young: Luck is for losers.

He cracks the faintest hint of a smirk and knowingly doubles down.

Punk: Yep. Luck is for losers.

The Straight Edge Superstar rubs a hand across his face, pulling down slowly. He's tired. Far away.

Punk: But uh, yeah... let me just say, congrats to Shark Boy. Whatever I said beforehand, I mean, I'm not sorry, but the guy's a killer. He's incredible. Next World Champion right there, bet on it. And tonight, Edge... this isn't the first time we've fought, but it's the first time in a long time, and last time he was Champ, I took that from him. So we'll see. We'll see.

Phil scratches his chin and shrugs. He's distracted. There's no elaboration - no further thoughts on the monumental bout he's got coming up in mere minutes. His head is still somewhere else, a bit in the past, a bit in what might be next.

Punk: It's like... ahhhhh... you want it to be one way, but it's the other way. Sometimes it just doesn't come up your colour. And here's me, the guy who's whole thing is abstinence from vices, but I'm the worst kinda addict... cause for me, good enough is never enough. Even after all the world titles and the G1's and the streaks and the records and the accolades, now as I'm barreling towards the back nine, I still want more, and it's... it's starting to look like maybe, for the first time in my career, there's nothing I can do about it.

But hey, can't land a punch if you don't take the swing. So here's that. Here's "here goes nothing".

CM Punk nods in appreciation towards Renee for the time and attention, then turns around and walks toward Gorilla. Coming up, a match against the UWF Champion. Young signs off and Revolution rolls on.




The scene opens with Cody Rhodes smiling at the camera.

Hello there UWF Universe, it has been an extremely long time since I have stepped into the ring. Over a decade ago, I stepped into this ring and became one of the most decorated superstars here in UWF. I have won championships and I have been in many feuds. Heck, It was so amazing that I enjoyed my wrestling career. Heck even my pops will be proud of me. Furthermore, after I left wrestling to focus on my family. After waiting more than a decade and watching people come and go. I decided to dust off the ring boots and step back into the ring. I had a feeling. Do you know what that feeling was? That feeling of wrestling that I have put away. Now it has brought me back to UWF. It has brought me back home where I rightfully belong.

As you see, I may have ring rust. Especially since I have my first match against Dean Ambrose. He is such a familiar guy that I have amazing feuds with back in the old glory days of UWF. If you don’t know anything about it. I would suggest you look that up peeps. Anyhow, Dean and I won’t be the same old young guys that we were back in the old days. No, we are the more experienced and more aggressive older guys. Dean knows he and I rightfully respect each other and we would do anything to win even if we have to make myself bleed for it. Heck, we would do it since I already know I am down for it because wrestling is in my blood.

As for Dean, he knows how to have fights on the streets and brawl all over the world. BUt what he doesn’t know is that he is going up against the man who was born to become one of the greatest wrestlers of all time. Yes, I was the baby boy of the plumber. You and everyone know I work extremely hard enough to be where I am today. So Ambrose, you can put your street fighting to the test and think you can ruin my return to UWF? You better think again because not only am I not the young Cody you know. I am extremely experienced and better than I have ever been before. So tonight, you will go one on one with the Nightmare himself. You better give me the fight of my life because you already know I won’t back down from any fight especially against a former rival like yourself.

Dean, you only know what you know best in street fighting and having been trained by one of the best like William Regal. But don’t underestimate me just because I am the youngest son of the Rhode family and that I haven’t wrestled over a decade. You better give me everything you got because I will do the same. When that bell rings, the gloves are off and we are going to fight each other to the death. I don’t care if I have to die bleeding in that ring to defeat you Ambrose. You better believe I will do whatever it takes to win. I will give you everything I got in my wrestling genes to give you one of the most brutal fights that you have ever been in. But by the end of the night, just remember that you will be defeated and destroyed by none other than the NIghtmare himself……Cody Rhodes. I am here to haunt your dreams and fill it with nightmares.

You will just be the start of my quest to fulfill my destiny of winning championships. As for everyone else, prepare for the nightmare who will haunt your dreams and his name is none other than Cody Rhodes.


The scene fades and ends with Cody Rhodes smiling.




Chimel: Making his way to the ring from Texas, Weighing in at 252 lbs.. STONE COLD STEVE AUSTIN!!!

The glass smashes and the fans in the arena know who is it is. They jump to their feet and go crazy and Stone Cold steps out from behind the black curtain and starts to walk down the ramp with his world famous B.M.F Walk.

Austin walks down the ramp, walks up the steel sheet steps and jumps into the ring. He walks over to the turnbuckle in front of him and climbs it, raises his arms into the air and the fans let out a huge cheer. He jumps down off the turnbuckle and walks over to the one in the opposite corner and he climbs that and gets another big cheer from the crowd. He climbs down and paces up and down in the ring for a moment.

"Homicide" by LL Cool J hits the PA System and out comes the "Notorious 187" Homicide!

Homicide comes out and the fans cheer. Homicide puts the gun signs up and than he fake shoots his pretend guns and makes his way down to the ring as the fans cheer him.

Tony Chimel: Introducing from Cocunut Creek, Florida by way of Brooklyn New York this is the Notorious 187 Homicide!!!

Homicide enters the ring and gets to the top turnbuckle removing his bandana and throwing it to the fans. He throws up a gang sign representing his LAX days. Homicide than jumps down from the turnbuckle and is ready for the fight at hand.
VS
DING DING

Both men tie up and they start a test of strength. Stone Cold got the upper hand until Homicide kicked him in the stomach and Homicide whipped him to the ropes, Steve bounces back and Homicide hits him with a huge clothesline.

Mauro Ranallo: What a huge clothesline out of nowhere by Homicide.

Tom Phillips: Yep, Stone Cold didn’t see that coming!

He quickly hooks the leg and Steve kicks out before the count of 1. He and Homicide start trading punches until Stone Cold kicks him and he whips him to the ropes. Homicide bounces back and Steve's back body presses him. He starts stomping on homicide before he grabs his head and he gives him a chinlock.

Mauro Ranallo: Looks like Steve got Homicide in a chinlock.

Tom Phillips: We will see if Homicide can escape himself out of this one.

Homicide tries to get out and Stone Cold keeps on tightening the hold. The referee asks Homicide if he gives up as he shakes his head no and he suddenly gets up from the floor while he is still in the submission hold. He elbowed Steve in the chest and Homicide gave him a hard chop. Stone Cold holds his chest as Homicide whips him to the turnbuckles and he quickly starts throwing punches at Stone Cold until Steve blocks a kick from him. He gets out and he places Homicide on the turnbuckle. He climbs up and he gives him then punches for the ten count as the crowd cheer on. Then Stone Cold gets off from the turnbuckle as he places Homicide on the floor and Steve goes to climb the turnbuckle. He jumps off the turnbuckle and he hits the diving elbow drop. Then he hooks the leg of Homicide and the referee counts.

1…….

2……..

And a kick out.

Stone Cold grabs Homicide by the head and he drags him to the ring ropes as he gives him a mudhole stomping. Then he stops and he hooks the leg again.

1..

And a kick out.

Stone Cold picks up Homicide as he whips him to the ring ropes and Homicide bounces off the ring ropes. Steve tries to hip toss him as Homicide reverses it and he hits him with a huge Western Brooklyn Lariat. Stone Cold is down as Homicide picks him up and he hits him with three amigos into a falcon arrow. He hooked the leg and the referee counted.

1……

2….

And kickout.

Homicide starts stomping aggressively and then he grabs both of his legs. He placed Stone Cold in the Cross STF. Steve is screaming as he tries to get out and the referee asks him if he gives up. He shakes his head no and Homicide tightens the submission hold. Stone Cold places his hand out as he tries to reach the ropes near him and Homicide keeps on putting more pressure on the submission hold. Steve leans forward and he manages to grab it as Homicide is forced to stop the pin.

Homicide goes to Steve who is holding his leg as he starts stomping on it some more until he grabs him and he places his leg near the ring ropes. He places Stone Cold’s leg on the ring ropes and he stomps on it. Stone Cold is screaming in pain while Homicide is talking trash and he goes to grab Homicide. Steve Austin managed to grab him and roll him for the pin.

1……..

2…….

And a kick out.

Mauro Ranallo: Wow, Stone Cold almost heard it.

Tom Phillips: He caught Homicide out of nowhere.

Homicide was shocked as he almost lost the match and he is extremely mad. He grabbed Steve Austin. He throws him some punches before he kicks him in the chest and he grabs him. He hits him with the F - Bomb and he hook the leg as the referee counts.

1….

2….

And a kick out.

Mauro Ranallo: How did Steve Austin kick out of that?

Corey Graves: Nobody knows. Only the Rattlesnake has enough guts and experience to do so.

Homicide quickly grabs the unconscious Steve Austin and hits him with the Gringo Killer and he hooks the leg. The referee begins the count.

1..........

2..........

And 3.

Tony Chimel: And your winner and brand new Prime Time Medal is Homicide!

The referee holds Homcide’s hand as he is proclaimed the new Prime Time Medal Holder. Then the referee let go as Homicide grabbed the Prime Time Medal and he kissed it before he celebrated with the crowd. The scene ends with the referee checking on Stone Cold while Homicide celebrates with the crowd after winning the Prime Time Medal.




The camera feed leaves the Revolution arena setting and opens up in an undisclosed sunny location by the sea. After a few moments of background noise from the beautiful setting, the camera pans to show Danhausen looking out at the glorious view before turning to fully face the camera.

Danhausen
So as you can see, Danhausen is currently someplace far away. Not the Someplace Far Away from where he originally hails, but still a location that is both relaxing and rewarding for Danhausen following his incredible Sunnyslam-a-rama victory, where he ended up winning this!...



Danhausen reaches down and pulls up the Intercontinental Title which he won at Summerslam.

Danhausen
Yes, very good isn’t it? This is Danhausen’s proudest Ultimate Wrestling moment without question, and a moment for the ages that will live long in the memory. But Danhausen knows that the greater challenge of defending his newly won prize now lies ahead of him, and that regardless of Danhausen’s increase in riches, he will be taking nothing for granted in his conquest to become one of the greatest title holders that ever graced these lands and seas.

Danhausen pauses to prop the title belt over his shoulder before resuming his speech.

Danhausen
Danhausen knows that challengers can come from anywhere at any time in all different shapes and sizehausens, which is something he will always be ready for. But Danhausen also knows that challengers can make their way to the top via the same means that Danhausen used to get to this moment, with the very nice, very helpful, Cryme Tyme Medal. And Danhausen sees that another two beings are going for first dibhausens on that very prize this week. In one corner you’ve got Danhausen’s old beer drinking buddy Steve Cold, who seems to have taken an oddball turn in recent times even by Danhausen standards. And then in the other corner you’ve got the notorious Death Man, who Danhausen indirectly overcame in his failed bid to become Ultimate Wrestling Sovereign Ruler. Danhausen thinks he’s got these ones figured out to some degree, but as everyone knows, an initial first victory does not guarantee an immediate shot at Danhausen. So for now, Danhausen will continue to enjoy his well deserved vacation, but know that just because he’s living the high life now doesn’t mean that he’s taken his eye off the ballhausen, because this trinket here is just the next part in the progression of what will forever be know as the Danhausen dynasty.

As Danhausen grips the championship tightly over his shoulder and lets out a wide grin, the camera then fades to black and returns to the arena for Revolution to continue.






As the well known, yet still unfamiliar tune of “Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked” starts to play throughout the arena, there’s a moment of unrest for the fans, as they wait with bated breath to find out just who is coming out to such a song. But said unrest and general excitement turns to scorn as one mister Trevor Lee, wearing a striking suited attire where the UWF Television Championship can proudly be put on display around his waist, comes strutting out onto the stage, that Cheshire Cat smile shining brightly for the cameras.

Mauro Ranallo: ”Hey guys, it looks like we’ve got some company, folks!”

Tom Phillips: ”Yeah…it’s that psychopath Trevor Lee-”

Corey Graves: ”Hey! Put some respect on the mayor’s name, Tom! That is Mister Trevor Lee, and he is no psychopath! He is the current UWF Television Champion, the ONLY champion to retain his title at Summerslam, might I add!”

Tom Phillips: ”Yeah, but he still didn’t win! Leyton Buzzard had him dead to rights, and if it wasn’t for The Butcher breaking the contract signed by Leyton and Trevor-”

Corey Graves: ”Hey, don’t try to put the blame onto Andy Williams, that was Leyton’s fault! He could’ve had The Butcher banned from the whole building, but he only chose to get him removed from ringside. That's the fault of the challenger.”

Mauro Ranallo: ”Dubious circumstances aside, it seems as though there’s a lot on the mind of one Mister Trevor Lee.”

And indeed there is, Mauro, as while the commentators had been talking, Lee was slowly making his way down the ramp, trying to put his usual wiles to good use towards those in attendance. And while those efforts are clearly failing given the audiences’ knowledge of his…current mental state, as it were, Lee pays no mind to them…the only ones he cares about are the ones who end up taking the fliers, be they gullible idiots or just people who don’t know any better. Smiling all the same, Lee enters the ring, with Andy heading on over to the timekeeper’s area and grabbing a microphone for his mayoral candidate friend. Handing it off, the music finally fades out, leaving Lee alone in the ring.

Trevor Lee: ”Well, well well well well well, well…wouldn’t y’all look at this? Seems I’m the only guy in the whole darn U-Dubya-Eff to keep hol’ o’ my championship…now ain’t that somethin’?”

Taking a quick glance downwards to admire his own championship, Lee looks back to the camera.

Trevor Lee: ”I mean, truly folks, it was a difficult match to be sure. One o’ the toughest bouts I have had to put myself through since I arrived ‘ere in the confines o’ the U-Dubya-Eff, an’ that’s impressive, ya’ know? I mean, it feels like it was just last week that I was talkin’ about how Mikey boy was wastin’ away tryin’ to make believe that he was an actual professional ‘rassler rather than a Hollywood star like he truly is, an’ now look at us! I’m the Television Champion of the whole darn world, an’ Mikey boy finally got his head on straight, I tell ya’ what, by joinin’ up wit’ a bona fide Hollywood mega star in none other than Batista! I mean, really folks, it is darn impressive how fast I’ve risen ‘ere in the U-Dubya-Eff, an’ yet…people keep thinkin’ I am just a fluke champion. That I got lucky all these times, whether it be defeatin’ that mean ol’ nasty ol’ dirty ol’ viper, or beatin’...him at Summerslam, people keep callin’ my victories flukes, but I just don’ understan’ that now, folks.”

Cocking his head, Lee shakes it afterwards as he looks out to the crowd.

Trevor Lee: ”I mean, really folks, really, I mean it, I really do mean it, what do I gotta do to prove to y’all that this ‘ere title reign of mine ain’t no fluke? I’ve done nothin’ but win, both in an’ out of the ring, yet y’all just sit back an’ criticize me? Now that just ain’t fair, I tell ya’ what, it just ain’t fair! I mean, y’all have seen my record - everyone that I’ve beaten wound up skippin’ town! Mikey boy had to go find himself again ‘fore gettin’ signed on to join Batista - by the by, mista’ Animal, could ya’ spare me some contact info for ya’ agent or, dare I ask it, for ya’self? I need to get in contact wit’ ya’ about makin’ me a promotional movie for my campaign to be re-elected as the mayor of Harlan, Kentucky. I promise ya’, mista’ Animal, y’all will be handsomely rewarded for ya’ services to the town, an’ I ain’t just whistlin’ dixie when I say that, folks, after all, ya’ Television Champion’s got so much money, it ain’t even funny!”

Giving a big grin, Lee suddenly snaps back to the point, the smirk washing off his face in an instant, like Crayola paint in a rainstorm.

Trevor Lee: ”Ah, but anyways…the point, the point, the point of it all is that I beat someone, they skip town, an’ we keep goin’ on this cycle. Mikey boy left an’ found himself again, I sent the viper packin’ to who knows where, an’ that Leyton Buzzard fella? He said it himself, he ain’t medically cleared after bein’ so careless as to injure himself off my Harlan Gold ‘ere-”

Lee proudly raps his fist off of the front plating, feeling how his blood remains stained on the metal that shines for the camera oh so brightly.

Trevor Lee: ”I mean, just how reckless can ya’ be, folks?! To get himself hurt wit’ my beautiful gold ‘ere?! That man deserves to be sittin’ on the shelf right now, an’ quite frankly, if he joins the list o’ folk that don’t quite stick the landin’ after stumblin’ against me? Well, that’s just icin’ on the cake, ain’t it? I mean, seriously, it ain’t like he actually got a chance to beat me wit’ those injuries o-”

However, right as it seems Lee is going to go into ANOTHER ramble, his microphone abruptly goes silent. Tapping it repeatedly to see if it is simply glitching out or something, when he gets no audible response, he goes to get a new microphone…



But before he can be handed a new one, he stops in his tracks and turns to face the music. Quite literally, as he stares up the ramp to find his eyes locking onto the man whom he barely escaped from at Summerslam.

Leyton Buzzard: “Lee, I think everyone in this arena is sick n’ tired of listening to your rambling, so I’m glad to do them a favor and cut you off. However, I must give the devil his due, so fair play to you for ‘sticking’ to the terms of the contract.”

Leyton meanders his way towards the ring as he gets up onto the apron…

Leyton Buzzard: “And yes, it is true, I have been advised not to get into any physical altercations with the devil this week. You see, they say I have a concussion but that’s just the price of winning the TV title. A fist full of pills and a broken body…but I don’t have the TV Title around my waist do I? And it’s all because of this scumbag in the ring with his shit eating grin.”

As Leyton enters the ring he sizes the champ…

Leyton Buzzard: “I mean for a moment in that match I thought “Hey Lee isn’t full of it” but you’ve shown you’re truly full of piss and vinegar, So Lee what I want from you is to look me in the eyes face to face…”

Leyton gets face-to-face with Lee as they stare eye to eye, Leyton looks ready to fight right now.

Leyton Buzzard: “And fight me without the third man, I want you to be a man of integrity. Lee but we both know the only thing you want to do is avoid defending the title around your shoulder-”

Before Leyton can continue, Lee decides it’s his turn to talk once more, and snatches the microphone away.

Trevor Lee: ”Nah, nah nah nah nah nah, nah, I don’t think it works like that mista’ Buzzard. In fact, I know for a fact that it don’t work that way. Ya’ see, y’all may think that mista’ Carter is the man runnin’ this show, an’ to be fair, y’all would be right. He’s been doin’ a gran’ ol’ job of doin’ such…but when it comes to this ‘ere Harlan Gold o’ mine? The only one in charge of decidin’ when this gets defended, an’ who it gets defended against, is myself an’ myself alone! So, mista’ Buzzard, lemme just get this right cleared up for ya’ - the ONLY way that y’all will EVER get another shot at this ‘ere U-Dubya-Eff Television Title o’ mine is if I personally make the ee-xec-u-tive decision to grant that there title shot your way.”

Grinning at Leyton, Lee shoves the microphone back into the face of his challenger. Before he gets the chance to leave, however, Leyton puts his hand onto the champ, forcing him to turn around as Buzzard gets into his face.

Leyton Buzzard: “Lee, I am telling you this straight to your face, while I got the chance. You want to be the one in charge of your own challengers? Fine, that’s just fine, because until you give me another title shot, I am going to make your life hell, Lee. I am going to take out everything you have ever cared for, and I will get you to give me a title rematch where Butcher can’t save your ass!”

With that said, Leyton shoves the microphone into Lee’s chest, forcing it to fall to the mat as he stares down the champion. After a few seconds, it is the TV champ who breaks this off, taking his leave just as intended. With Leyton left behind, the scene goes elsewhere…




The scene opens up on Batista and The Guild standing together in an area of the backstage.

”The Hollywood Animal” Batista: It’s almost time. It’s almost time to head to that ring and take on Sami Zayn, Shark Boy, and Seth Rollins to determine who gets the next shot at Edge’s UWF Championship. They don’t think I deserve the opportunity to be number one contender. Hell, they don’t think I deserve to be in this fatal four-way to get a shot at becoming number one contender. But I’m in it. Why? Because EC3 knows I deserve it. EC3 knows that there’s money in Batista as the UWF Champion because it’ll get more eyes on the product, it’ll bring in more talent, and that’ll result in more money not just in my pocket, but in his. So for those of you banking on anyone else but me walking out the victor tonight, prepare to have your hearts broken because I’m punching my ticket for that title shot because Edge and I have unfinished business and he has something I want.

The Miz: What you’re looking at is the most must-see collective not just in the UWF today, but in this company’s entire history! At Summerslam, The Guild proved that when we beat the hell out of Eddie Kingston and you can bet that we’ll be more than ready to beat the hell out of anyone out there tonight if need be! The number one contendership is leaving with the, “Hollywood Animal” and it’s going to be….AAAWWWWEEEESSSSOOOOMMMMEEEE!

Goldust runs his hands up his own body as he inhales, then bites towards the camera before the three men walk offscreen.






Tony Chimel: From Atlanta, Georgia, Making their way to the ring, the American Nightmare, Cody Rhodes!

The pyro goes off as the American Nightmare comes out to a huge ovation from the roaring crowd and he has a huge smile on his face. Seeming all too excited to be performing in front of a crowd once again, Cody makes his way down to the ring, posing all the while for the fans, before finally stepping between those ropes and putting on a game face for the upcoming match.



"My Own Summer (Shove It)" hits the arena PA and the fans hit their feet. While the man whom this theme represents was always a divisive figure, his return to the UWF ring is hotly anticipated. The cameras key in on the stage as Ambrose's 'tron plays, but he's not there. After a few long, awkward moments, the cameras eventually find Ambrose walking through the crowd.



Tony Chimel: From Cincinnati, Ohio, weighing 224 pounds, Dean AMBROSE!

Ambrose hops the barricade and enters the ring, then pulls off his vest and tosses it to the crowd. He performs some pre-match stretches ahead of the match.

DING DING DING

With the sound of the bell, both men meet in the center for the all too typical collar-and-elbow tie up, with the proper jockeying for position lasting for all of about ten seconds before Cody takes control, using his superior mat wrestling skills to bring “Deaner” back down to the mat with a mat return. Keeping him hooked on a side headlock, Cody tries wrenching at the fast hold, but Ambrose is able to kip his way out of it, rolling to his feet and rushing in…just to be captured into another side headlock takeover, forcing him to once again roll to his feet to escape.

Corey Graves: ”Looks as though the certifiably insane Dean Ambrose is being taken to school right now by The American Nightmare.”

Mauro Ranallo: ”You best believe that The Lunatic Fringe isn’t going to stand for this for too long though, Corey.”

Corey Graves: ”Oh, of course, I wouldn’t put it past him for a moment…”

Despite Corey’s sarcastic response, it still rings true, as Ambrose quickly has enough of the bullshit and simply decks Cody Rhodes straight in the face. Forcing the break in the technical action, Ambrose goes to launch his own offensive, battering Cody into the corner until a break is forced to step back by the referee. Regardless of the referee’s warning, however, Ambrose looks to continue the assault, only for Cody to immediately begin fighting back, delivering snap jabs and the general southern fire that his father was made famous for. After an irish whip gets reversed by Ambrose, he even does the Cody thing! Y’know, the Drop Down Up Kick to the side of the head! It stuns Ambrose long enough for Cody to get back to his feet, and with Dean staggered backwards, it allows for Cody to rush past his opposition, springboard off, and catch Dean right in the head with the Disaster Kick!

Tom Phillips: ”Woah! Disaster Kick from The American Nightmare’s got Dean Ambrose seeing stars!”

Mauro Ranallo: ”We’re seeing some signs that the old Cody Rhodes still remains within the spirit of The American Nightmare right now!”

Corey Graves: ”Relax, people, relax. Cody may be performing well right now, but what matters is if he can keep it up, and when he’s up against this future insane asylum cellmate, consistency cannot be guaranteed!”

Once more, despite Corey’s words, Cody is quick to continue on his in-ring act, grabbing hold of Dean Ambrose and seeming rather ready to put an end to this match. Hooking the arm around Dean’s neck, he looks to be setting up for the Cross Rhodes, but Dean manages to counter! Raising a knee up high, Dean manages to do the classic reversal that’s been kept in the damn video games since the original Smackdown on the PS1, turning the reverse DDT positioning into a Vertical Suplex that brings Cody down hard to the mat!

Corey Graves: ”What did I tell you?! Much as I hate to admit it given his…constant mental state, Dean Ambrose is a damn good wrestler in big situations like this one!”

Tom Phillips: ”For once, Corey, I think we can actually agree-”

Corey Graves: ”Shut up, Tom! Nobody cares about you trying to join the bandwagon after it’s already taken off!”

With Ambrose now getting to his feet, he awaits Cody’s rise before planning for his fall, running in with a big double axe handle to the chest to knock down Cody, before connecting with a forearm strike on the rebound that sends Cody backwards into the corner. Ambrose charges once more, delivering another forearm shiver, before hooking his arm around Cody’s neck and rushing forward to slam him down face-first with a Bulldog!

With Cody now slow to get to his feet, it seems as though the end is near. Ambrose is calling for it…and as he hooks Cody up once more, it seems time for a No-Hitter…but Cody counters! Slipping out the back, he takes the opportunity to completely break free from Dean, rushing to the ropes behind him so he can springboard off in an attempt to capitalize with another Disaster Kick…but this time, the disaster is turned to Rhodes, as Ambrose evades it! Crashing to the mat, Cody has no defense for Ambrose as he lifts him up in that suplex position, before spiking him down with the No-Hitter! Swiftly capitalizing, Ambrose hooks the leg for the fall!

...ONE!

...TWO!

...THREE!

DING DING DING



Tony Chimel: ”HERE IS YOUR WINNER…DEAN AMBROSE!”

With Cody just barely missing the kickout at a 3.1, there is a clear look of dejection on the face of The American Nightmare…but at the end of the day, now is time for Dean Ambrose to celebrate, having picked up his first victory in quite a while, and perhaps the first of many. For now, though, it is a start, and Ambrose recognizes that, letting his hand be raised by the referee as Revolution rolls on…






SOMETIMES YOU HAD TO LOSE THE BATTLE.

So that you can continue on and win the war. That was history. That was the truth, no one just won all the time. A mistake I made myself a year ago with the streak I was in, becoming so consumed and addicted to it. To winning, all the time, to taking pride in the streak I had and then when I lost that match, when I was brought crashing right back down to earth, yeah. It fucking sucked. It hurt me so much, but that was … what I needed and yeah, sure I took a beating. I got my ass handed to me and Batista came out on top in the end, but take a look back at what happened and you tell me who really won that match, who really walked out of that match as a man, with his head held high and knowing, he gave it his all, on his own with no help. Victory, Batista is welcome to it, he can have it, he can sit backstage with his little buddies and run my ass down to the ground all he wants, but each and every single time we are on our own, when it is me and him, no one else, no little pals to help him, shit does not go his way, at all.

BUT IT IS WHAT IT IS, NOT GOING TO GET SUSPENDED OVER THIS ONE.

Could go back there, find him, beat the living shit out of him. Wait for his crew to come and take them all, one at a time and end this, but … I want to do it in the ring. I want to do it out there and show people what it means to fight for your fucking dreams. Because I have a dream. I have had a dream for over a year here. To make it. To be seen. To be heard. To be a someone. Two out of three, to some people that ain’t all that bad, but for me, I need to be a someone, I need to know that this was all worth it in the end and the only way I am going to know that, is if I made it right to the top and hold the world title in my hands and see my reflection within the gold and the smile on my lips knowing that … someone as worthless as me, could defy all odds and make something outta myself.

STILL, BATISTA HAS NOT LEARNED ANYTHING FROM OUR FIGHTS.

I am still alive. I am still standing. He thinks he is gonna move on to bigger and better things now that he got another hollowed out victory over me. Not until he had fucking beaten me into a fucking puddle into the ground with his own two hands, without anyone fucking helping him, only then well I call it a day and know I have finally came to my match and know how far I can go, but as it is right now, here. Fuck. I am looking to go one more time. I am looking for another match, another chance, another crack at him. Might not get it, might get the whole, you fat fucking failure nonsense, I have heard a thousand times since coming here. Before, it would annoy me, make me do something stupid, but now … I wait for it, wait for these little pricks to rhythm, it off to me so I know that … anything I do to them, the gloves are off and I don;t need to feel so bad come morning. Cause pieces of shit like Batista, no matter the glitz and the glamour, the fucking lights shinning on them and all the kind words said about them, a piece of shit is still a piece of shit and in my eyes, there ain’t a bigger piece of shit than Batista.





Psycho Killer by Talking Heads hits the arena as Trent Seven walks out of the curtain. He stand on the stage for a bit before performing his signature mustache taunt.



Tony Chimel: Making his way to the ring, from Wolverhampton, England, weighing 216 pounds, TRENT SEVEN!

Trent jeers at the audience ringside as the boos flood in. He rolls inside the ring and lays on the center for a while, before going to and standing on one of the turnbuckles, staring down the stage, waiting for his opponent to come out.

Leyton Buzzard walks out onto the stage all eyes on him, He has microphone in hand as he paces back and forth...

Leyton Buzzard: "Trent I am sorry to let you know I am not medically clear to fight you tonight, Trust me I am disappointed in not having the chance to face you too. I mean I left it open to the final minute hoping for a miracle that my concussion would go away but we aren't lucky enough for that. So Trent I had a close friend of mine and former tag team partner to take my place. I want you all to give it up for Mr Money's worth"



"Sammy Guevara!"

Leyton turns his back as the crowd jump to their feet, Buzzard meets eye to eye with Guevara they give each other a nod of respect as Leyton goes to the back. Sammy goes onto the ramp arms out to the adulation. Guevara looks pleased to be back as he moves forwards towards the ring. . .



Guevara gets to the ring as he runs up he slides under the ropes to the other side of the corner as he taunts towards the crowd. Trent looks ready for a fight as Guevara quickly goes to his corner throwing off his entrance gear waiting for the bell to the ring...


Tom Phillips: Leyton Buzzard's old friend Sammy Guevara is here to take his place tonight.

Mauro Ranallo: And it looks like Sammy isn't the only surprise we have here tonight.


The camera pans over to show Joe Gacy in the crowd and he's got his eyes fixed on the ring.



VS


DING DING DING

Guevara is posted up in the corner, laying over the ropes like he's laying on a hammock just relaxing, not taking Seven too seriously. Trent merely smirks before walking over to fight. The ref gets between the two because technically, Guevara is in the ropes. Sammy hand waves Seven away like he's trash and Trent backs away calmly with his hands in the air but the second the ref turns his back, Trent lunges forward and just overhand punches Sammy in the stomach causing him to fold and fall into the corner where Trent unleashes a barrage of kicks and knees.


Corey Graves: You'd think having a big opportunity to come back to UWF, Sammy would take things a bit more seriously.

Mauro Ranallo: Trent Seven on the other hand looks like he's going to fight like hell to stay here.


The ref counts to 4 and Seven backs up once again. Sammy is dazed and crawls out of the corner. Bad idea. He grabs onto the ropes to help himself up but his back is turned to the ring. Seven comes over and swoops in underneath his arms to get him in a Full Nelson before snapping back with a Dragon Suplex! Guevara gets dumped right on his head He flops over onto his back but Seven hits a Running Senton on him before making the pin.



1 . . .



2 . . .



Guevara kicks out! Seven grabs him by the hair and pulls him back to his feet. He gets behind him and readies him for the Seven Star Lariat. He ripcords him but when he goes for the Lariat, Sammy ducks it and runs past him, springboarding off the ropes into a Crossbody! Seven gets up right away but eats a Superkick to the jaw! Sammy then goes up to the top rope and gives everyone that annoying he's crazy taunt. He jumps off the top rope with a Shooting Star Press but Seven gets the knees up!


Tom Phillips: Terrific counter by Trent Seven.

Corey Graves: Who needs all that flippy business when just simply getting your knees up can do so much damage.

Mauro Ranallo: Trent Seven really knows how to make the most out of every attack. Things don't look too good here for Guevara.


Seven gets back to his feet but Sammy has rolls out onto the apron. He walks over and bends over the ropes to pick him up but Sammy kicks upward and nails him right on the shoulder. Seven backs away to the middle of the ring holding the shoulder as Sammy pulls himself up. He then springboards into the ring but gets cut off on the way down with a stiff Forearm to the face that knocks him completely out! Guevara lands with a hard thud but Seven picks him up and hits a Powerbomb! He grabs onto the leg and flips him over to place him in the Seven Circles of Hell, leading Sammy to tap out immediately.



Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Trent Seven!



Seven keeps the hold locked in after the bell just because. The ref has to come over and try to break the hold himself to no avail until Seven finally decides he's done. Guevara grabs at his knee and Seven kicks him all the way out of the ring before he finally exits and heads up the ramp. We can see Joe Gacy in the crowd smiling and nodding as the show moves on.




We head to the backstage area where Sami Zayn is shadowboxing. His form is off, the strikes look weak and he's clearly never done this before in his life but he thinks it makes him look cool. He stops and walks up to the camera.



Sami Zayn: You see that little 1-2 combo? That's what you can expect in the ring tonight. I only need to beat one man but I wouldn't be surprised if I knock out all three of those guys. No none can touch me in the ring. I'm at an all time high when it comes to in ring readiness. I just beat 2 legends in this industry and now you're saying I get to beat 3 more on the cusp in one match?

Sami smiles and nods with excitement before throwing a few more bad punches.

Sami Zayn: After tonight, it will no longer be deniable. The entire world will be forced to see the greatness of Sami Zayn. The Forever Champion makes his first steps to legitimatizing the UWF Championship. Hey Generico, get the SnapChat ready. Make sure to keep my DMs open so everyone can personally apologize to me.

Zayn walks off with Generico and Luchadora in tow as the show you guessed it, rolls on.




The titantron would cut to Ciampa sitting down in the security office. In the chair next to him is EC3 and in front of him is the chief of the arena’s security. Ciampa looks pretty straight faced, not showing much emotion. EC3 seems concerned that something could break out and the Chief is staring Ciampa down, finally the Chief speaks up.

Chief: So Mr Ciampa, EC3 has asked us to come in and make sure everything goes smooth tonight, based off your past volatile behaviour he expects it could end up messy tonight with your loss to Danhausen.

EC3’s eyes dart back and forth between the pair, Ciampa stares at the Chief, barely being responsive but eventually he cuts the tension.

Ciampa: You know what….. I understand.



A look of confusion crosses EC3’s face as he looks to the security chief, the chief himself even seems slightly confused. He was ready to send in the national guard for this Ciampa guy and he seemed calm.

Chief: So you do understand that means you’ll be escorted places and you’ll be watched at all times, also for our peoples safety, Mr Wardlow won’t be able to escort you.

The camera would pan to Wardlow standing behind Ciampa, clearly not happy with this situation, he would go to speak but Ciampa would hold a hand up.



Ciampa: I can agree to that, I can’t say that he won’t go on a rampage but I can ask him to stay in the locker room. Is there anything else or is it time for me to go out there.

The Chief would look at EC3 one more time who would shrug.

Chief: I guess not Ciampa but remember, any funny business out there and we’re authorized to deal with you.



Ciampa would nod and get up, as he would leave the room, the camera would switch to a view behind him, we would follow him to Gorilla position and he would nod to the production crew. The camera would switch to the ramp and Wherever I May Roam blasts over the speaker as we see Ciampa walk down the ramp towards the ring, a mic in his hand. The security team would be close behind and as he gets in the ring, they would surround it.



Ciampa: So I know a lot of you people in the crowd were expecting me to come out here and go on some rant about how Danhausen didn’t defeat me and I was screwed and i’ll admit for a couple days there, I thought that was the truth but then I looked back at the tape.

Looking down at the ground, Ciampa would shake his head.

Ciampa: Danhausen beat me in the ring fair and square. Sure it was a roll up but that is a legitimate way to win a match and while I might not like it: he won and I need to live with that, so I guess congratulations Danhausen.

The crowd would break into a cheer as a slight smirk would cross Ciampa’s face.



Ciampa: That still doesn’t mean I respect him, I still think he’s a face painted freak but we’ll see how he does under the pressure. I don’t intend to just sit back and relax now that i’m not Intercontinental Champion, there's a reason I held it for over seven months and that’s because i’m the best.

The crowd would begin to boo Ciampa.

Ciampa: So I need to prove that I am the best and the best way i can do that is by taking down the best. This is a challenge to any guy in that locker room. No titles on the line, just fighting for pride. I’m game for anyone. Doors open fellas, come on in.



With that Ciampa would drop his mic and leave, the security walking behind him.







P * U * N * K


The slither, simmering arpeggios of "Heart Shaped Box" come through the PA, accompanying CM Punk on to the stage. He takes a knee, a deep breath with it, and then taps his wrist to confirm it's still, in fact...



Clobberin' Time! The Second City Saint marches down the ramp, ready for another fight.

Chimel: Making his way to the ring from Chicago, Illinois... weighing in at 218 pounds... CM PUNK!

Punk scales the steel steps and climbs the turnbuckle. He stands perched with one foot on the middle rope and one on the tope, hand to eyebrow as he surveys the audience. The song breaks for that famous chorus line, which the crowd sings along with. Brooks then flings himself over the top rope to enter the squared circle. He claps Tony on the shoulder as he passes by, making his rounds in the ring while preparing for the match ahead.

YOU THINK YOU KNOW ME


A familiar phrase echoes throughout the arena, leading into the bassline of "Hysteria" by Muse. Smoke fills the stage and before long, a figure walks out from behind the stage into the smoke. No bounding from one side to the other, Edge moves slowly, like a predator taking in his surroundings in order to best pounce on his prey. The crowd is not shy with their disdain for the Ultimate Opportunist, showring him in boos as he stalks down the ramp. Halfway down, he pauses, crouching low, his face contorting as he bares his fangs and in one motion, uncoils upwards, his hands held high with devil horns as pyro explodes behind him.


As the pyro finishes exploding, Edge slowly brings his head back to level and walks towards the ring. Only a few steps away, he runs and slides into the ring and as he moves towards a turnbuckle to pose and soak in more hate and boos, the ring announcer chimes in.

Tony Chimel
Hailing from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 240 pounds. He is the Ultimate Opportunist, Edge!

VS

DING DING DING!!!



The Brand new UWF Champion and CM Punk lock eyes from across the ring—the fans on their feet for the marquee match up that could headline at pay per view in any era of the UWF.

Corey Graves: I’ve got goosebumps!

The two circle the ring, starting at each other and never removing their eyes off the other one. The two circle each other like lions stalking their prey in the jungle—and they bounce pounce at the exact same time.

The two begin to trade immediate bombs in the middle of the ring that causes the other to stir before dealing a bomb of their own. After a fury of punches have been traded, Edge initiates an elbow/collar tie up and uses his larger frame to force CM Punk into a corner. The ref steps in between them and Edge delivers a vicious kick to Punk’s gut that causes the former champion to double over in pain. Edge lifts Punks head and delivers a series of chops that leaves Punk’s chest red in matter of seconds. Edge irish whips Punk into the other corner and clotheslines Punk into the ground after he bounces out of the corner. Edge stomps on Punk’s lower limps a few times before going to lift one of Punk’s legs up for a possible submission move. Punk has it scouted and lets off a series of kicks to the temple of Edge. Edge falls back on his knees and Punks manages to get up and connect with an enzuiguri to the side of Edge’s head. The UWF Champion staggers to side in a state of daze and shock. Punk manages to get up once more quickly and delivers a dropkick to Edge’s back.

Corey Graves: Nice exchange between the two

Punk grabs Edge by the hair—but Edge rolls Punk up with an inside cradle!

1………..

2……….

Kickout by Punk!

A huge grin appears on the face of Edge as he gets to his feet and meets an agitated Punk face to face. The two stare at each other once more, with Edge mocking Punk to his face. Edge raises two fingers in Punk’s face to show that’s just how close he was to losing already. Punk smirks back and shakes his head before flooring Edge with a colossal right hand! Edge flies on his back and staggers back up, only to get dropped by an even larger right hand. Punk mounts the champion and begins to drill with rights and lefts until the ref stands in and separates the two. The arena is completely rocking as the fans are all on their feet!

Edge struggles to get back to his feet, and Punk grabs a handful of hair and delivers a bulldog in the middle of the ring. Punk grabs Edge’s hair once again and pulls him to his feet, but Edge grabs a handful of Punks tights and viciously forces him out of the ring over the top rope. Punk lands awkwardly on the outside and bounces his head off the apron before dropping out of the ring like an anvil. Edge slowly slides out of the ring to stare at the damage that he’s done. Punk is lying on the ground writhing in pain in front of the announcing table. Edge starts to yell at Punk to ‘GET THE HELL UP!’

Punk grimaces before getting to one knee, and Edge hits him with a massive boot to the back of the head. Punk drops back down to the ground as Edge takes another long look at his damaged opponent. The ref pleads for the men to come back into the ring, but Edge isn’t listening. Edge scoops Punk up by the hair and goes to irish whip him into the steps, but Punk reverses and sends Edge crashing shoulder first into the steel steps. Both men are down, and the ref continues to yell at both men to take the action back into the ring. Punk begins to stir first and he slowly makes it back to a vertical base. Punk grabs Edge by the hair and the ref has had enough and begins his count. Punk tries to lift Edge up but can’t and shrugs his shoulders—Punk then levels Edge with a DDT onto the outside!

1…………..

2…………..

3………….

4………….



Punk is able to slither into the ring, and he leaves the UWF Champion motionless on the outside with possible brain damage.

Corey Graves: That was a massive DDT from CM Punk ladies and gentlemen. Time and Time again, the man always has a big-time counter in his arsenal.

Mauro Ranallo: You can never count the man out, that’s for sure.

5………….

6…………

Edge begins to show some live in his body and his limbs.

7…………..

Edge begins to crawl to the ring.

8…………..

9…………..

Edge just barely makes it back into the ring to break the count. Punk can do nothing but shake his head. Punk begins to ambush Edge once again with a fury of strikes before irish whipping the Champion into the corner. Punk chargers up and drills Edge with a big knee to the face in the corner. Punk hits Edge with a few shoulder thrusts, before lifting the Champion up on the turnbuckle. Punk climbs the ropes as well and positions Edge for what looks to be a super plex. Punk lifts Edge up to the third ropes, and Punk climbs to third rope himself. Punk tries with all his might to suplex Edge—but Edge is hanging on for his dear life.

Edge pokes and rakes at the eyes of Punk and shoves him off the top rope. Punk goes flying back and crashes in the middle of the ring. Punk is immediately in agony and is clutching at his back as Edge just sits perched on the top of the turnbuckle in pain himself. The shove caused him to lose his footing he get straddled on the top turnbuckle.

Punk slowly and gingerly gets to his feet, and Edge strikes. Edge goes flying off the top rope for a crossbody! But…. Punk catches him and rolls through! Punk is able to stand back on his own two feet with Edge on top of his shoulders! Punk goes for the GTS!

But Edge has it scouted and slides off Punk’s shoulders and lands behind him. Edge grabs Punk by the hair and drills him with the reverse DDT! Edge reached forward and grabs a leg for the cover.

1……………

2……………

Punk kicks out!

Corey Graves: Punk was BARELY able to kickout there!

Edge starts to slap his hands on the ground showing a bit of frustration—but he quickly reigns his emotions back in. Punk gets to his feet, but as soon as he does, Edge kicks him in the midsection and throws him out of the ring like yesterday’s trash. Edge follows him to the outside and begins to tell Punk to just stay down. Punk gets a headful of steams and sprints up and charges at Edge, but Edge just drills him with a big boot. Punk goes careering to the ground once more. Edge shakes his head before grabbing punk up to his feet by the hair. Edge then Irish whips Punk into the steps—and the steps completely become unhinged and fly apart in different directions. Punk immediately goes down and begins to clutch his left shoulder in pure agony.

“I TOLD YOU TO STAY DOWN!”

Corey Graves: There is a sick looking knot on the left shoulder of CM Punk ladies and gentlemen

Tom Phillips: Every time he breathes it moves!

Mauro Ranallo: Is that a separated shoulder?

The ref begins to start his count again.

1…………………

Edge is starting at Punk in agony, as Punk seems to be having a hard time dealing with whatever pain he’s in. Edge shakes his head in disgust before casually waling back into the ring.

2………………

3……………..

4……………..

5…………….

6……………..

Punk begins to move a bit, but he’s still clutching his left shoulder. Punk tries to get to his knees but just ends up back on his back.

7……………

8………….

Punk makes it to his knees and begins to make progress to the ring.

9………….

Wait! Edge just rolled back to the outside!

Corey Graves: What is he thinking?

Tom Phillips: There was no way that CM Punk was going to make that count!

Mauro Ranallo: Why would he end the count out! That a victory Edge!

Edge then scoffs at Punk and yells at him. “I TOLD YOU TO STAY DOWN!”

Punk beaten and battered, looks up at Edge, and spits in his face. Edge doesn’t even move a muscle. Punk gets up and slaps Edge with his right hand. The smack send echoes throughout the arena and a large red mark on Edge’s face. Edge then turns completely red and just snaps. Edge punches Punk and floors him, before lifting him back up pinning him into the announcing table and drilling Punk with closed fists. The ref starts his count again, as Punk tries to cover up, but a little blood is seen flying form the face of Punk. Punk just continues to eat the barrage of fists from Edge until he collapses on all fours.

1…………….

2……………

3…………..

Edge walks around Punk, seemingly unsatisfied with what he’s done so far.

Corey Graves: This is getting out of hand.

Punk tries to get up, but he has to use the rim of Edge’s pants to hoist himself up. Edge shakes his head in disgust and spits on the face of Punk. Edge slaps Punk’s hands off, then grabs Punk by the hair and irish whips him into the barricade. Punk crashes into the barricade back first—in more agony.

4………………

5……………..

To the dismay of everyone in the crowd—Edge goes sprinting full speed and SPEARS PUNK THROUGH THE BARRICADE INTO THE FANS!! The barricade explodes and the fans have loses their shit!!!

Corey Graves: HOLYYYYY SHIIIIIIIT!!!!!!!!

Tom Phillips: WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO EDGE!!

Corey Graves: By God as my witness—that man has been broken into pieces!!

Mauro Ranallo: Some one call a paramedic!

6…………..

7…………

Edge gets up and stares at a motionless Punk.

8…………

Edge slowly walks back into the ring but never taking his eyes off Punk.

9………..

……….10!!!!!

The ref holds up Edge’s hands!

Winner: BY COUNTOUT, EDGE!!



Edge stares down at Punk from the ring. The medical team rushes over to check on Punk but Edge is just looking at him with an expressionless face as the show rolls on.




We fade backstage were a camera is chasing after two men, one walking with a purpose while the other has their head held high seemingly strolling along without a care in the world, as the camera gets closer you hear a voice call out

"Joe, Dexter, Excuse me please"

Dexter simply continues walking on pushing the door open and leaving the arena without hesitation as Joe turns around with an eerie smile on his face.



Joe Gacy: Why of course I have time to share with another one of the faceless, voiceless many who I represent in this world. It's a pleasure to meet you my friend, what is your name?

I umm, I was actually just sent to ask why you were watching the Trent Seven and Leyton Buzzard match tonight?

Joe Gacy: I see, you work here as a backstage hand and because of this you don't consider yourself to be important enough to disclose your name to on-air talent. All you need to worry about is the job put before you because if you step out of line, if you crack one of the many eggshells around you then it will be your job on the line. Well My friend there are no eggshells to walk through because they are placed their by your own mind, because it is in this mind that peoples negativity have clouded your own self worth and caused you this view of the world. But you can live a better life, one where you are more than a person Sent to do something...For On-Screen talent and backstage hand, we are all simply human beings equal in every way.

My uh, My names Mike I was just trying to get an answer-

Joe Gacy: That is what we are all doing, searching for answers but always too afraid to ask the right questions. But it's okay because I'm here to ask the questions, get the answers, and change our entire world view. But to satiate you and humbly send you off with a job well done from the people you view as superior to yourself, Why wouldn't we want to witness a former championship contender and a debuting superstar go at it live and in person. Besides that, Dexter and I have heard some of the words of Mr. Seven and were curious about his viewpoints. He spoke some truths in that the world is not a fair place, but also seems to have a skewed point of view towards what is best for his fellow man. I seek to better our world, while he seems preoccupied on everything besides the world we live in, and when you think like that...it can cause many people to not care what happens to the planet we live in or the people we encounter. What does it matter what is to come of this world if you're after another, so I simply wanted take a closer look at the strength of his conviction. When one is curious of anothers viewpoint or ways, the best route is to see it in action.

If that were the case, being your own curiosity, was there any particular reason Dexter Lumis was with you as well?

Joe Gacy: Oh, he was actually the one who was really looking forward to get his eyes on the match. I have my motives, and Dexter his own...And once he's set his mind on something it's very difficult to stop him from accomplishing what he's after, and I believe tonight he's found something to go after...Isn't that right Dexter?

Gacy looks up his gaze set off camera behind the voice and shot, and the camera turns around showing the backstage hand turning around as well and seeing Dexter Lumis standing behind them with cold piercing blue eyes staring down at them. Mike quite literally jumps in shock and backs up the camera shakes on the shoulder of the suddenly startled cameraman, both men seeing Dexter walk through the door behind Gacy mere minutes ago and now suddenly face to face with Lumis. Mike trips as he's backing up dropping to the floor, and the cameraman moves to one side and starts backing away from Gacy and Lumis as Dexter walks up to the fallen co-worker. Mike isn't sure what's happening but he's entirely intimidated and scared by the looming visage of Dexter Lumis, especially as Lumis stands over him and tightens his glove on his hand. Lumis crouches down looking at right at him causing Mike to put his hands over his head as if a child hiding away from a monster he thinks is after him, but instead of doing anything scary at all...Lumis simply puts his hand out to grab the scared backstage workers hand and pull him up to his feet with one easy tug upwards. Mike is now looking up confused and slightly hypnotized by the frightening gaze of Lumis, when from behind Gacy leans in and speaks again causing him to jump in surprise again.

Joe Gacy: Any more questions for us Mike?

Mike shakes his head no, the eerie smile on Gacy on one side and the cold stare of Lumis on the other making both already individually uncomfortable sights magnify tenfold together. As Mike goes to leave, Dexter puts a hand on his shoulder and stops him from getting away. His eyes go wide as he feels the gloved hand of Lumis on him, preventing his escape as he turns up towards Lumis, tensed up ready to be struck, choked, or any number of things. But after a pause in the air, Lumis simply lifts his other hand up giving the hardworking stagehand a thumbs up. Dexter walks away and head through the same door he had walked through earlier as Gacy brushes off Mikes shoulders off of the dirt from the floor.

Joe Gacy: Thank you for your time, we greatly appreciate it.

Gacy smiles and then turns around towards the camera staring right into the lens with his almost painful looking grin, holding out his hand as if asking the viewer to shake it, after a few moments the cameraman seems to understand and you see a hand come from under the camera and shake Gacys. Joe turns to the closed door Lumis just walked through with his hands in the steeple position and stands there without walking for some odd reason, the door opening and him walking out as the scene fades.




The titantron switches from the UWF graphic to strange scene. Monochromatic. Murky and misty. Dank. Like if Fight Club was in the Shadow Realm. A lone figure steps out of the fog, dimly lit and hooded, their identity obscured.



Everybody around here thinks there so tough. But they don't know what tough is. When I was a kid, I used to chew on pogs and one time I swallowed a Slammer whole. I was in Doctor's Only magazine about it.

The figure fades into the black and emerges from a different angle. A low, anxious hum accompanies his words.



I consider my body to be a tool, not unlike a Swiss Army Knife or the that guillotine thing that teachers use to cut up really big pieces of paper. You know what I'm talking about.

Again, the stranger practically evaporates into the abyss before emerging a third time, now with his hands clasped like he's ready to rumble. The faintest hint of two bright blue eyes are the only colour piercing through the dark.



I am a little bit of loneliness, a little bit of disregard. Handful of complaints but I can't help the fact that everyone can see these scars.
I am what I want you to want, what I want you to feel, but it's like no matter what I do I can't convince you to just believe this is real.
So I let go, watching you turn your back like you always do, face away and pretend that I'm not, but I'll be here 'cause you're all that I got,

I can't feel the way I did before. Don't turn your back on me. I won't be ignored.

Time won't heal this damage anymore. Don't turn your back on me. I won't be ignored.

He cracks his knuckles and the big screen turns to static. Revolution rolls on.




Chimel: The following contest is a Fatal Four-Way match to determine the Number One Contender for the UWF Championship!


GIVE ME A SHELL YEAH!





The cowbell begins to tap before the guitars come in to signal the arrival of UWF's resident 'Shellraiser'. Nazareth's 'Hair of The Dog' blasts over the PA system as Shark Boy wastes little time in marching out from behind the curtain full of piss and vinegar, he's mouthing off to everyone and anyone in his immediate path. The crowd at ringside reach at Shark Boy but he maintains his focus on the ring stomping his way down the ramp continuing to mouth off the entire way down the ramp towards ringside.

Tony Chimel: Introducing first, from the Deep Blue Sea, weighing in at 205 pounds... SHARK BOY!

Shark Boy stomps up the steps and through the ropes into the ring, he makes a b-line for the corner where he heads to the top rope and throws out the fin-salute to the crowd before throwing his two fists high into the air for all the Shark-o-holics out there. Shark Boy repeats this at the three other corners before taking off his vest and waiting for the bell to sound.




Bright yellow spotlights begin to shine throughout the arena immediately garnering the attention of every fan in the building. The lights begin to twinkle and move throughout the arena before fixating the at top of the ramp and changing to a blue tint. The arena then goes dark as the music continues to blare loudly from the Speakers. Suddenly, large poles form a runway down to the ramp, and they instantly light on fire. The fire burns steadily as the camera fixates on the top of the ramp, waiting for the illustrious superstar to make his way out from the back to face the UWF Universe.

Chimel: Next, from Buffalo, Iowa and weighing in at 220 lbs, he is the 2022 ROYAL RUMBLE WINNER: SETH ROLLLLLLLLLLINNNNSS!!!!!!!

Without further adieu, The Visionary & FORMER UWF Champion, Seth Rollins steps out from behind the curtains with his arms extending outwards by his sides. The one and only Paul Heyman, bald head, and all, appears from the backstage area as well following Seth, rubbing his hands and wearing a self-approving look on his face as well. Roman Reigns follows suit and the trio walk forth. Seth Rollins is visibly pissed after the travesty that occurred at Summer Slam due to his loss to Edge. The former Champion does not look happy at all, as he mugs everyone as he comes into the ring.




The funky beat of Walk The Moon's "Headphones" plays and the crowd starts to boo as it means the arrival of the current? World Tag Team Champion Sami Zayn. He has the title in his hands and dances with it on the stage. He ends up calming down a bit but still walks with some swagger down the ramp, swinging his belt around like he's got a big one.



Chimel: Next, from Montreal Quebec, Canada, weighing in at 212 pounds, The Dynamic Sami Zayn!!

Sami slides into the ring and continues to dance around with his belt much to the chagrin of the paying audience. Sami walks over and makes sure to show it off to all the fans before preparing for the match.






As “Sasquatch” by Ice Cube begins to play, the UWF fans immediately start booing as they know who’s coming out. They’re correct as out walks the, “Hollywood Animal” with the Hollywood Championship over his shoulder and The Miz and Goldust following as the lights dim and a spotlight shines on them as they walk down the ramp.

Chimel: And from Washington D.C., weighing in at two hundred and ninety pounds, The Hollywood Champion, BATISTA!

Big Dave joins his three opponents in the squared circle, handing off his belt to Goldust on the way. Now that everyone's all here, the Official calls for the bell to get this puppy started!


VS VS VS

DING DING

It's one man each to a corner in the squared circle for this evening's big time main event contest. On the floor outside, ya got Paul Heyman, hands clasped, gaze fixated on his meal ticket, and Roman Reigns hanging out behind him like a gosh dang gargoyle. On the diagonally opposite side, the Guild offer up some encouragement to newly-minted, inaugural Hollywood Champion. Their attempts to get some crowd love behind the A-Lister fall flat.

The crowd is practically unanimously cheering on Shark Boy from the jump. A lot of Shark-O-Holics in this part of the world. Sami Zayn shakes his head at the UWF Universe's blind stupidity. It ain't nothing new to him, but the Forever Champ just can't believe that these folks are siding with guy in the Halloween costume.

While everyone's still eyeing each other up like a Mexican Stand-Off... or, sorry, a Stand-Off that's Mexican... it's actually Zayn that leaves the sanctuary of his corner first. Not to fight, though. Not yet. Sami tepidly approaches Batista, hands outstretched like he's coming towards a dangerous beast. He's whispering sweet nothing's about an alliance - a partnership forged in the flames or shared purpose.


Ranallo: It appears Sami Zayn is courting the Hollywood Champion to team up and uneven these odds.

Phillips: Batista is the only man here who Sami doesn't have some serious history with. I guess it's true what they say, "the enemy of my -"

Graves: Cut the cliches, Phillips! And shut up, Sami needs absolute silence. When approaching a wild Animal, you want everything to be calm and quiet.


When Sami is finally within spitting distance of the Movie Star, he gently extends a hand to make it Official. The fans are booing the idea of a potential tandem here. They don't have to worry long. With a dag nasty sneer, Batsita two-hand shoves the pest away, denying the offer. Zayn stumbles backwards across the ring and bumps into Shark Boy, who spins him right around then connects with a Chummer!

Huge pop for the early favourite. As Shark Boy sits down, Zayn snaps back like a Pez Dispenser. He doesn't even have time to hit the mat when Batista comes in like a semi with failed breaks to blow him to pieces with a Spear! The impact turns the Quebecer inside out. Big Dave rolls through and a tenacious Rollins comes right past him to nail a Curb Stomp!


Ranallo: MAMA MIA! A triple serving for Sami Zayn! That's gotta hurt!

Graves: Clearly the other three got together before the match and plotted to work together to take out the most dangerous threat. There's always a conspiracy against Sami.



Rollins jogs past after hitting the Stomp then wheels around, drops, and hooks a leg for a sure-thing cover. The Referee is right there to count it...



1...



2...



No way, pal! Shark Boy pulls Rollins right up off the guy, cutting the attempt short. The fans get all riled up again as the rival competitors stare each other down in the dead center of the ring. At their feet, Sami rolls towards the floor to die in peace.


Ranallo: Zayn is out, we're down to three, and this is anyone's ball game!

Graves: Who is going to be crowned Number One Contender when we return from commercial break?


The actions continues as the show rolls into the ads.


====================



====================


And we're back! Seth has SB in a headlock but he quickly slips free. The Shell-Raiser fires off a shot, blasting Rollins with a slobberknocker across the mush. Seth recoils but return fir with a forearm shiver that damn near knocks the mask off of his foe's head. He's probably got a spare on under there, anyway. Shark Boy takes a few steps back, seeing stars and early symptoms of CTE. The recently dethroned Champ comes looking for a follow-up but oh snap, here comes Big Dave! Batista levels Rollins with a running lariat the pancakes him like a drunk dump truck driver. The Iowan is in la la land as Basista scoops up the scraps and tosses him to the outside.


Ranallo: Each of these superstars brings a different set of strengths to the table. For Batista, it's obviously the power game - Corey, is that advantage exacerbated in a multi-man match like this?

Graves: Well there's something to be said for having the speed to capitalize on sudden openings or to make the save and break up a pinfall when necessary, but a four-way also mitigates any concerns one might have about a middle-aged giant's cardio, and being the strongest man in a match is never a bad thing.

Phillips: It's worth mentioning the x-factor that is the Guild in his corner. We've got all these guys surrounding ring who are playing nice, but there's no reason they can't get involved at any time. Don't forget, there are no disqualifications.


Batista comes after the dazed Shark Boy next. He reaches out for a collar and elbow but gets stifled by a quick peppering of jabs. The Shellraiser then takes an arm to whip his opponent across the ring. The Hollywood Champ makes the most of that significant size differential, however, and plants his feet to reverse. Shark Boy hits the ropes on the far side and bounces back, only to be greeted with a size fourteen boot to the guts.

Taking SB's arm, Batista then pulls him in close and fast for a short-arm clothesline that lands like a garage wall on a leg. Shark Boy is leveled, winded, and Big Dave decides to go for a pin...



1...



2...



Shark Boy kicks out right after the two count. The Hollywood Champion stands up, smirking just a little bit as he takes full control of this contest. He just watches as Shark Boy tries to use the ropes to get vertical, taunting him to rub some salt in that wound.

Before the Hollywood Animal can follow up, however, Seth slides back in to the ring, fresh as the mountain air. He clasps his gloved hands around Batista's waist and leans back hard to mess him up with a classic German Suplex! It hits so hard, the ring shakes, and Rollins just keeps holding on. Pulling Batista back up to a standing position, Rollins lands a second German suplex seconds after that first! All that Crossfit finally pays off when, you guessed it, he heaves the guy up to score the hat trick.

It it were anyone else, the display would surely garner a standing ovation. These good folks got nothing but hate for the Visionary, and they boo their mouths off as he finally lets go of the midsection so he can try for a cover...



1...



2...



Batista shoves him away after the second count.

Rollins shouts at the Referee to hustle up a bit as he pulls Batista up by the scruff of the neck. Big Dave doesn't give him the chance to start popping off again and plants his hamhock right in Seth's solarplexus. A European Uppercut knocks the double-over Messiah up right again. Batista then brings him down once more with a knee to the abs, and from there, hits a DDT.


Phillips: Oof. A disorienting, high-impact combo from the so-called Hollywood Champion.

Graves: Put some respect on that title when you mention it, Phillips!


Batista shoots the half on the rattled Rollins. The Referee drops to make the count...



1...



Rollins out at one! Big Dave looks shocked by the hasty kick-out. The glaze in Seth'e eye suggest it might have been more instinct than anything else.

Peeling the most-recent Rumble winner off the canvas, Batista decides to send him to the ropes, perhaps to set up the Spinebuster. Whatever the plan is, Rollins counter with some feet planting and torso twisting, and instead launches the heavyweight towards one of the corner posts. Big Dave bounces chest-first off of the unmoving turnbuckle. Goldust winces at ringside while Miz cusses out the Visionary. Seth ignores them both as he catches Batista wandering back in a tip-to-tip hold. From there, he showcases some influence from an old mentor and launches his foe high overhead with a belly-to-belly suplex!

Even that impossible feat can't melt the cold hearts of all the haters in the crowd tonight, astonishing as it is. Heyman looks impressed, though. He's licking his lips like a tubby kid at a buffet. Or a skinny kid. Or an in-between kid. Everyone like buffets. It's okay to like buffets. Nearby, Reigns is much more reserved. Sometimes, you gotta wonder what he's thinking about.

The landing of that last move saw Batista sommersaulting across the canvas into on of the corners. He starts to pull himself up with the ropes so Rollins heads on over to deal with that. The Visionary clips with with a European Uppercut to keep him dizzy then props him up on to the top of the post, leaving him perched and seated there.


Graves: I know we just spoke about Batista having the power advantage, but we might have to rethink that if Rollins shows he's able to hit his usual Superplex / Falcon's Arrow combination here.

Ranallo: Indeed. That would be an impressive stunt for the Visionary.


Just as Seth is about to climb up after the guy, Shark Boy pulls him down, spins him, and clobbers him with a hard right to the jaw. Rollins eyes roll back a little. The Shellraiser grabs him by the back of the head and drives him face-first into the top buckle - an old classic of his, except this time it doubles as a low-blow to Batista!

The crowd pops big cause they'll just let this guy get away with anything. Batista is gasping in agony. Goldust looks like he might kinda like it I dunno that dude weird but Miz hops up on the apron to protest, even though it's all legal. Shark Boy grabs a hold of Rollins again but gets turned around and whipped across the ring. Seth cleverly sends him right into the distraction, so that as SB hits the perimeter, he also knocks Miz to the floor and right on to Goldust!

That transference of energy means there's no elastic rebound to send Shark Boy running back. It's called physics. Google it. That means Rollins has to come collect him himself. Shark Boy sees his old enemy coming and uses the ropes to brace himself as he gets his boot waaaaay up high to kick him in the kisser. Seth walks away on loosey goose feet, trying to catch his balance, inadvertently wandering back towards Batista, who is still trying to catch his breath and avoid puking while he sits on the intersecting top ropes.

Shark Boy dashes towards Rollins. The Iowawn looks up just in time to counter and pops Shark Boy up and over like a cheerleader! SB goes high, lands with both feet on the top rope on either side of Big Dave, then makes the most of a sticky situation by hitting a Frankesteiner on the guy, really flexing those X-Division roots.


Phillips: Shark Boy flipping Batista halfway across the ring with the rana! Incredible!

Ranallo: This guy has so many layers, from brawler, to grappler to high-flyer, you never know what he might hit you with and that's what makes him so dangerous.


Batista lands with a splat near the middle. Shark Boy scramles to capitalize except he friggin can't cause Seth Rollins grabs him by the shirt and tights and lawn darts the fish man clear under the bottom rope! He slides to the floor while the Visionary steals the pin!



1...



2...



Nah chief, that ain't it. Batista kicks out in time! It was a rough landing but he had just a little too much time to recover.

Seth sits up, takes a big heavy breath, getting some air in those lungs while refocusing. He catches Heyman giving him a confidence-inducing nod from the apron and lets the bald man's enthusiasm course through him like Gatorade. Rollins gets himself standing then bends over to grab a heel. An Ankle Lock? A Sharpshooter? Another stolen move from Tanahashi with the Cloverlear? We'll never know. Batista uses his free leg to boot him away.

The former Champ staggers away and collides with Shark Boy just as that dude is climbing back up into the ring. That sends Shark Boy into the ropes, who uses that little bit of bounce to fling himself over Rollins. He sunset flips him over to land him seated, pops up, and beams him in the chest with a low dropkick! The Shell-Raiser then jumps on him for the cover...



1...



Batista rolls over to break it up!


Phillips: Batista makes the save to keep this going.

Graves: If you want to get the pin in a multi-person match, you really need to clear the ring first. Otherwise you can guarantee that someone is going to interfere.


Shark Boy swats Batista away, annoyed by the interuption. The masked superstar then returns to his feet, clutching his ribs a bit as he nurses that hard landing he took to the floor moments earlier. That gives Big Dave some time to recuperate as well. He uses the ropes to haul himself up.

Seeing this, the Shell-Raiser charges him. Batista clocks the offense a mile away and catches homie on the way in with a thunderous Spinebuster! He to rotates 180 degrees while pulling it off to add some torque, too. With Shark Boy splayed out right there, he's in prime position to try for a cover, but the Hollywood Champ elects no too. He knows what's up. He gotta clear this ring.

Getting up, Batista boots Shark Boy in the ribs over and over, each contact of foot to body nudging him over further and further until he falls to the outside. Big Dave then turns his sights on Rollins, who is just starting to get up to his knees. The Visionary is out of it - he isn't aware of the danger he's in as he's being sized up for a Spear. Seth starts to stand while Batista prepares to pounce...


The Hollywood Animal darts across the ring...


And Roman Reigns pulls Seth out to the floor just in time to save his life!


Graves: Now that's a good cornerman!

Phillips: Once again, Seth Rollins needs Roman Reigns to save his skin!

Ranallo: Nothing wrong with that in a match like this, Tom. It makes sense to exploit every available advantage, even if the fans don't like to see it.


They sure don't. They're booing real loud. Batista isn't happy either. He pulls up just in time to avoid crashing a burning and shoots a terrifying scowl at Reigns. Roman scowls right back, and for a second, it looks like he might just climb up in there and fight the guy. He never gets the chance, however, on account of the Guild run over to deal with him.

Roman manages to get off a Superman Punch on Miz but Goldust tags him with a low to bring the Big Dog down. Heyman looks on in horror as his insurance policy collapses. Goldust brushes past him to collect Rollins and toss him into the ring. Batista smirks and picks up him, dragging him by the hair towards the middle of the ring.

The Hollywood Champion looks directly into the hard cam as he prepares to deliver the killing blow. The man's a star, born for the screen, and he knows it.


Ranallo: Batista is the only man in this match who has yet to challenge for the UWF Championship. I except that's all about to change.

Graves: And pinning the last man to hold the belt would be a helluva statement to send to Edge.


Batista tucks Rollins' head between his legs and then flips him up into Powerbomb position. Seth has the wherewithal to explode into the lift, however, allowing to over-rotate and fly right through his opponent's fingers. As such, he manages to land on his feet behind Big Dave.

Seth spins the Hollywood Animal around, clips him in the jaw with a jumping knee, and then hoists him over the shoulder to execute an Olympic Slam!


Phillips: No way!

Ranallo: Seth going deep into the playbook! What a reversal! What a maneuver!

Graves: If EC3 isn't going to hand him a rematch, it looks like Seth Rollins will just have to take it for himself!


Batista is decimated by Rollins' old mentor's signature move. The Visionary wastes no time in shooting the half and the Referee is right there to count it...



1...



2...



Shark Boy dives in to break it up just in time! The fans breath a sigh of relief.

The Shell-Raiser then yanks Rollins up off the mat and smacks him in the mouth again. A furious Seth returns fire with a strike of his own. What follows is a downright, dirty old brawl - a game of shot for shot as these two men who can't help but continually find themselves at odds squaring off as they pour out whatever's left in the tank.

Cheers fill up the arena for the exchange that only seems to be picking up speed as they go. Boom! Bam! Blammy! Kapow! It's a donnybrook, alright. They're slugging it out, getting all bloodied up with no end in sight until outta nowhere until finally, SB manages to hit a few consecutive shots that open upon Rollins for an Irish Whip. Seth bounces back right into a Thesz Press that's followed up with some serious ground and pound. Once Shark Boy has had his fill, he stands up, jawjacking like no other as he revs it up for a Chummer...


Ranallo; Shark Boy does the Shark Boy thing!

Phillips: It's Sharky Boy time!


The Shellraiser hauls Rollins off the mat, boots him in the gut and pivots to go for the Chummer!

Except oh no! Batista grabs him and tosses him out of the ring! Big Dave then grabs the wobbly Rollins, tucks his head and promptly goes to execute the Batista Bomb! He's got Rollins up on his shoulders, pretty much out cold already. All that's left is -


HELLUVA KICK!


Sami Zayn runs in from outta the blue and blasts Batista in the back of the head with his infamous running boot just as he's delivering his finisher. Rollins goes down hard on his back all the same! Batista is KO'd!


Ranallo: SAMI ZAYN! WHAT THE HELL?

Phillips: I forgot all about him! I thought he was a goner!

Graves: He's a genius! He waited to recover and pick his spot and now he's going to win the whole thing! The Forever Champ well on his way to becoming a double champ and this time there's no stopping him!


Rollins rolls away while Batista sprawls out. Zayn dives on top to make the cover and crown himself the first in line for Edge's title...



1...



2...



Wait a sec! It's Shark Boy! The fish man skins the cat to get back in the ring in time to save the day! He pulls Zayn up off of Big Dave, kicks him in the chum bucket, spins around and smashes him with a Chummer! Zayn is stunned beyond repair and Shark Boy jumps up on him, both legs hooked deep to wrap 'er up...



1...



2...



3...



DING DING




YOUR WINNER...
AND #1 CONTENDER FOR THE UWF CHAMPIONSHIP...
SHARK BOY


Shark Boy sits up, hands already raised in victory as he punches his ticket back to the main event. The place comes unglued. With the other top dogs laid out all around, the Shellraiser stands tall to celebrate the moment with his fans.


Phillips: EVERY WEEK IS SHARK WEEK, BROTHER!

Ranallo: Shark Boy did it! He bested the best to earn another crack at Edge, who will have to make his first championship defense against a man he only just managed to beat to win the King of the Ring tournament, What a rematch! I can't wait!

Graves: This is ridiculous! Seth Rollins deserves his own rematch after his historic reign! And there's no bigger money bout that the Hollywood Champ one-on-one against the UWF Champ! And don't even get me started on how ridiculous it is that Sami Zayn got screwed over yet again! Anyone but Shark Boy -

Phillips: SHUT UP COREY! SHARK BOY IS THRIVING AND THE PEOPLE ARE HERE FOR IT!


SB gets comes brewskis tossed his way so he can celebrate in style, hitting all four posts to toast the crowd who are on their feet, screaming and cheering to see him make it right back to the top. With Nazareth blasting through the PA, the party continues as Revolution comes to a close.




END OF SHOW


Credits


Seven vs Guevara - Danny
Homicide vs Austin - Evolution J
Ambrose vs Rhodes- Leedles
Edge vs Punk - ulltrainstinct
Zayn vs Batista vs shark Boy vs Rollins - Fauche

[Dres]

IT’S REVOLUTION DAY, BAYBAY!

Great show that was worth waiting for. Check out The Dose and comment on this wonderful edition in this thread!

[mrleedles]

real good show for a post-PPV edition. That 4-way thread was nuts to read, so big ups to everyone involved in that~!

[Fauche]

Nice promo from Swedish to kick things off. The post title-win "I told ya so" segment is a great time to peacock and put the whole rest of the roster on blast and this is that. Planting seeds for any one of his four potential contenders and still finding ways to make you hate a family man.

Rey's Cody's boots are gonna be impossible for anyone to fill for ever and ever, but it was only a matter of time before someone took a crack at the rollercodester now that he's such a big deal again. Always like Evolution's Orton, always have fun tt'ing against him, looking forward to seeing what he can do to shirk the comparisons and make this character his own. Big babyface energy is a pivot from Randy, and it's good to do something super different when you're changing guys.

Congrats to Chase on getting that Prime Time Medal coming off the win at Summerslam. A Homicide / Danhausen feud could entertaining as heck if he can hold on to that thing. Also other would-be contenders testing themselves against a legendary character just exemplifies what the medal is all about IMO.

Danhausen's lobster crocs are unreal. Celebrating with a bit more style than Edge out here on the boat. Shout outs again to andy for setting himself a record with all these different characters picking up IC titles. The thread between him and naturalblondie's Trent Seven should be good stuff this week.

Really enjoying the work that Leedles and Jye are putting into their feud. Co-promos for days. Nothing beats a co-promo, brother. White meat babyface, snake boy heel, odds stacked against the former but maybe it's all gonna close in on the latter. That's wrasslin, baybay. Let's get these fellas a cage match.

Dres elevating the "fake champ" gimmick by slapping a qualifier on what it takes to challenge for the Hollywood Championship was a highlight of Rebellion. As was said on the pod, Batista promos aren't long, but he's a succinct man - a movie star with places to go and people to see. We get the gist of what he's got going on tonight and that's all ya need. Haven't seen a ton from the Guild yet but I wouldn't be surprised if his Miz becomes something of a breakout character cause there's just so much to work with there.

Fantastic Eddie Kingston pic to kick off his segment. Besides the lack of font colours, this is good stuff. You can knock him down, but Eddie's always getting back up again and all that jazz. Another ppv loss is a tough break but even all these months after our thread at Royal Rumble, I'm positive ada's got the goods to be top champ some day. Just gotta stay busy and consistent with it.

Love seeing Leyton duck an L cause he's selling an injury and he's got Guevara there to take it for him. We all hate Sammy, we all wanna see Leyton catch a break, win win. I don't remember much about nautralblondie's run with Chaos back on Thunder except that he was rocking Nakamura before it was cool, but I'm glad he's back. His first tt was rock solid, looks like he's got something coming up with Gacy and you couldn't ask for a better guy to force you to step up your game in a feud than Rey. One thing tho, "naturalblondie" is too long, we're gonna have to shorten it up to "natch" or "blondie"or something

Unhinged Sami promo, good stuff except I'm just realizing that I had Batista and Seth bring out their goons for the main event and not Zayn. Trash writing. Absolute bullspit.

Gunn out here leaning towards babyface with Ciampa? Still a little rough around the edges, still a little volatile, but man's giving up props to the guy that took his gold and if that's not good guy stuff, idk what is. An open challenge laid out makes me think he's not exactly chasing down an IC title rematch. Got Shark Boy up next for Edge, but given how good Gunn's been for forever, hard to imagine Ciampa not getting his first crack at a world title some time soon

Really liked this match by UI for Swedish and I tonight. One last hurrah for Punk, but more importantly, puts over Edge strong as a very dangerous new champion. Rough weekend kept this thread at 1-1, and that's a shame cause there was a lot of ground that could have been covered, but that's the cookie crumbling for ya.

Had a lot of fun playing Punk for the past 18 months. I knew after Mania that I didn't want chase any more titles with him but thought there was still some legs on the guy some story to tell. Happy I got to squeeze a super fun thread with Danny and that awesome thread with Sam out of the summer. I got nothing left I want to say with the guy, it's a good time to hang it up. A lot his wrestling mid-life crisis spiels and jaded old man stuff looking for one last gun was borderline shoot, and when I first brought him, I was pretty sure he was gonna be my last full-time character ever, but it's been a while now since those pesky retirement thoughts even came to mind. Looking forward to another run with someone else and then another one with someone else and another one with someone else forever and ever. Shout outs to Dres and George and ada and UI for some great sessions along the way, too.

Promo of the night for Gacy and Lumis, and there's some tough competition. We've never had a character like Gacy. Dude doesn't do much for me IRL, but just Sandow and mid ought's Cody, Rey's found a way to make the fed version a lot more interesting. He's not a stranger to playing the strong silent type, but I think conveying character exclusively through actions takes a lot of patience and commitment and detail and he's killing it here with Lumis.

Fatal 4 way match is an ode to the Summerslam review pod, which is a real fun listen if you haven't checked out already. Thought all those dudes did good work in the thread, getting two rounds from 4 tter's can be tricky but they did it.

Five matches, five different writers. That's great. Keep that volunteering thing going, baybay.