Post by Danny on Jan 19, 2023 21:20:53 GMT -6
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: The Royal Rumble is just around the corner and with only 1 winner, 29 men will be going home empty handed. We'll see see who really takes a step forward tonight to insure they make it to the end.
Corey Graves: Some people seem a little too preoccupied with their little squabbles if you ask me and that's going to cost them.
Mauro Ranallo: It very well could but we have some big matches set for tonight so let's stop talking and get right to the action!
VS
"On the way to the ring.. Leyton Buzzard."
Buzzard has his hands on his ears as he tries to avoid taking in the atmosphere of the arena, Buzzard rolls his way into the ring where he rolls under, He places his body between top and middle rope as he taunts to the crowd, Buzzard takes a moment before going back to his corner...
DING DING DING
Buzzard circles the ring away from Christian, Both men rush as they lock horns, Christian goes to the back and lifts Buzzard from his waist as he releases, Buzzard goes over the head of Christian but lands on his boots. Christian realizing the mid-air reversal swings Buzzard around, Leyton as he swings around throws a stray elbow that connects on the jaw of Christian which looks to make him even madder at Buzzard as Leyton begins to back up...
Mauro Ranallo: "Christian is fighting for his friends"
Tom Phillips: "Edge is too busy trying to focus on other things but this GNAT, Leyton Buzzard keeps trying to provoke him whether it's intentional or not"
Corey Graves: "Buzzard is trying to reveal the true Edge we all know he is terrible what's so wrong?"
Buzzard tries to exit the ropes but the pursuing threat catches his leg. Buzzard holds on between the top and bottom ropes, Christian is forced to let go by the referee as Leyton uses the minute distraction to dive at Christian's, As Buzzard's shoulder almost goes through Christian's knee as the shoulder block sends Christian crumbling to the canvas...
Tom Phillips: "Buzzard seems to be trying to get out of this match but Christian right on his tail--"
Mauro Ranallo: "Buzzard going low..."
Corey Graves: "No TOM, Buzzard was getting Christian into a false sense of security then BAM, GENIUS!"
Buzzard pulls back his hair as he is happy with the distraction he pulls Christian over a short distance to the turnbuckles as he rolls out of the ring, He gets hold of the injured leg and uses it as a battering ram into the steel post, The crowd not liking this begin to boo Buzzard as he tries to drown out the crowd's disdain...
Corey Graves: "What a move by Buzzard using every part of the ring to prove to everyone how bad of a friend Edge is..."
Tom Phillips: "This is between Buzzard and Christian right now, Christian a true friend trying to get rid of the problem for his friend"
Corey Graves: "No good friend would let someone go up against Leyton Buzzard one of the MOST VICIOUS SUPERSTARS ON OUR Roster!"
Buzzard turns to the crowd "Shut up this is for me not you...", Leyton as he turns back to continue work on the knee is met with a new sight of Christian atop of the turnbuckles looking down, He throws caution to the wind as he jumps off the turnbuckle, Christian's body presses down on Leyton's as both men crash into the ringside, Buzzard takes most of the brunt as he breaks the fall of Christian...
Mauro Ranallo: "A cross body from the top of the turnbuckle to the outside of the RING, MAMA MIA!"
Christian grabs Buzzard by the tights and hoists him into the ring, Christian right behind grabs onto the head of Buzzard and places it in between his arm, Christian lifts Buzzard to a verticle position before falling back and slamming Buzzard into the canvas with a suplex...
Tom Phillips: "What a suplex!"
Corey Graves: "What a dangerous move this could leave Buzzard with a lifetime of Vertigo how disgusting..."
Buzzard writhes in pain as Christian wants to inflict as much pain as humanly possible on Buzzard and refuses to go for the pin. Christian throws in a few punches to send across his message, The fist of Christian bounces off Buzzard's head. Christian gets to his feet and he throws down a few boots for a measure of revenge, Buzzard is yanked to his feet by his mullet as the crowd cheer on the torture of Buzzard. Christian keeps holding with one hand as he slaps Buzzard right across the cheek for the disrespect shown. Buzzard out of desperation pushes his thumb into, His hand on the blindside of the referee whose unable to see this transpire, into the eye of Christian...
Tom Phillips: "Right in the eye how low!"
Corey Graves: "I didn't see anything it's above board you need to get your eyes checked Tom"
Christian lets go and fall back into the turnbuckle holding his eye, Buzzard running for a lariat or something of the sort, Christian with the veteran ring IQ knows exactly where to go despite being a cyclops, Christian moves to the side as his feet slide over the middle rope, Christian falls back grabbing the top rope as his boot meets the top of Buzzard's head as he connects with a patented Christian Pendulum kick...
Tom Phillips: "Vintage Christian"
Christian now goes through the middle rope as he stands on the ring apron, Buzzard stumbling back from the swift kick, Christian uses the ropes to springboard over as he connects with a cross body Buzzard and Christian crash hard into the canvas...
Tom Phillips: "What a springboard crossbody by Christian using his body as a flying weapon of mass destruction..."
Christian is first to his feet as he has Buzzard right where he wants him, Christian notices Buzzard trying to scramble away towards the ring apron, Christian gets hold of Buzzard as Buzzard tries his hardest to use the apron to escape to no effect Buzzard is pulled into the center of the ring, Buzzard looks to be stumbling to his feet as Christian crouches and does a signature Edge taunt, Christian runs full speed into a metal police batton in the hands of Buzzard, Christian goes straight down like a sack of potatoes as the referee notices the foreign object and calls for the bell...
Mauro Ranallo: "That shouldn't be under the ring..."
Corey Graves: "Buzzard doesn't need this win he is he to just send a message!"
Tom Phillips: "And the message sent loud and clear he wasn't trying to escape he was trying to get hold of the foreign object he smuggled under the ring..."
DING DING DING
Buzzard falls onto his bottom as he seems pleased with the result, weirdly. Buzzard is taken aback because the chorus of booing is deafening but Buzzard still tries to repress the crowd's disdain. Buzzard rolls out of the ring before reaching down and grabbing a steel chair, He rolls back into the ring with a smirk he uses the end of the chair as a wedge between the knee on the knee he was trying to injure earlier, He pushes down with his full body weight behind it as he smiles...
Tom Phillips: "Trying to separate the knee of Christian"
Corey Graves: "WHERE IS EDGE? This is proving Leyton's point!"
Buzzard eases up as he grabs the chair and circles Christian like his namesake, He crouches down closer to eye level with Christian who is groggy...
Buzzard: "Where is Edge I thought he had changed but he has left you out here with the Hyenas. Typical from a no-good man and he isn't much better a friend is he Christian"
Buzzard lines up the surgically repaired neck of Christian with the steel chair. He leans in one more time before "executing" Christian's career...
"I am about to end your career and you'll have no one else to thank but your "friend" Edge will you Christian..."
Buzzard lifts the chair high but the crowd booing is getting over the top, Buzzard begins to swing down as the booing intensifies, Buzzard gets distracted as he stops mid-motion, He drops the chair which barely misses Christian's head as he has both hands covering his ears. Buzzard stomps his feet as his eyes swell up with tears, Buzzard can't handle the heat the crowd is throwing so he falls to his back he tries to drown out the crowd but is unable to as he heads down the stage leaving Christian a very lucky man...
The scene opens up on Batista looking straight into the camera. No sunglasses or suit to be seen, no fancy watch, just Big Dave in street clothes.
”The Hollywood Animal” Batista: People seem to forget that despite the amount of time I spend on Hollywood sets and at premieres and such, I’m still dedicated to my craft as a professional wrestler. They also forget that underneath the stylish clothes and fancy jewelry is someone raw and real. Well this is your reminder, so take a good look, and listen to what I have to say. There’s guys like Eddie Guerrero that think I’m too distracted by that other limelight, there’s guys like Kyle O’Reilly that think I have no credibility. Well while you’re taking that good look at me, keep your focus there and watch as I show Eddie Guerrero tonight that I’m not too distracted and watch the Royal Rumble as I show Kyle O’Reilly just how credible I am. Those two, sure they’re decorated athletes and there’s a bit more technicality to how they do things in the ring but that doesn’t mean much to me because you can be the most technical or athletic person in the world and still get dropped dead in your tracks by a simple punch. That’s how I do business: strength and brutality. It’s not technical, it’s not flashy, but it’s damn effective.
Kyle, you want to throw my failures in my face like there’s no possible way I can succeed against you because of them. Well I’m going to succeed in spite of those failures, and in spite of you, and in spite of my other detractors because that’s what I do. You call it bullying, I call it getting ahead and staying there by any means necessary. Your unstable mental state isn’t something you can pin on me as far as origin goes, but you’re damn right I’ve made fun of it and exploited it, and I’m going to keep doing so until the Royal Rumble has come and gone and I have everything while you have nothing. But first, I have to bury the legend of Eddie Guerrero tonight. I have to, no I get to, put out the last puny ember that’s left of Latino Heat. Because who better than me to do it? No one.
UWF Revolution continues to roll as the camera switches to the backstage area where Finn Balor is once again seen getting ready and preparing for his match before Renee Young approaches him. He automatically knows that she wants an interview and shuts her down before she can even speak.
Finn Balor
Not right now Renee.
Renee Young
Oh C’mon one question before the hottest rising star in UWF goes to battle.
Finn Balor
Okay fine one question.
Renee's face lights up with joy, but you could tell that Finn didn’t want to.
Renee Young
How do you feel going into this match with the number one contender for the UWF Championship, and what does the royal rumble mean to you?
Renee pulls a fast one on Finn Balor asking him two questions instead of one but he allows it.
Finn Balor
Well Ciampa’s a seasoned veteran around here and he has earned the right to be number one contender for a reason. But all that has nothing to do with me. I don't care about what Ciampa has done around here, I don’t care about what championships he’s held. I just hope he lives up to the hype and gives me the challenge I’m looking for. You've seen what I did to the immortal last week don’t be surprised when the same outcome happens tonight.
Finn Balor takes a pause before he continues to speak.
Finn Balor
As for the Royal Rumble I look at it as a lottery. 30 men 1 winner for a match with the UWF Champion at Wrestlemania. It’s everything every wrestler back here could ever dream of, a chance to headline Wrestlemania. Unfortunately for everybody at home there are fixed odds this year and no matter what position I come out as I will be winning the Royal Rumble.
Before Finn could get another word out a familiar face makes his way into the camera.
???: Hey, new guy!
Balor, Renee and the camera all look to the right to see someone saunter into the shot.
LA Knight: Let me talk to 'ya! "Ya see, 'ya been doing a lot of talking as of late. And that doesn't sit too well with L...A....Knight. If anyone is going to talk about winning the Royal Rumble, it's going to be L...A....Knight. Congratulations, last week, 'ya had yourself a pretty big win. "ya beat up a senior citizen. And 'ya didn't really look at that impressive doing so. But 'ya know who was impressive last week?
Knight looks at Renee as if he expects her to answer the question. After a few awkward seconds, she goes to speak but he cuts her off.
LA Knight: Shut up Dummy! I'll tell you who was impressive! L...A...Knight was impressive. World Champion? More like Chump-ion! Took out the trash and made it look easy. YEAH! And that's exactly what I'm going to do to you and the 28 other mouth breathers that want to try and win MY match! So I recommend 'ya save yourself the embarrassment and not even show up come the Rumble. Because if 'ya do, 'ya going out as fast as 'ya came in. This is L...A....Knight's time. This is L...A....Knight's moment. And guess whose game it is?;
Both Balor and Renee roll their eyes as Knight continues.'
LA Knight: That's right. It's L....A....Knight's game. And 'ya better get used to it. And that's not an insult; That's just a fact of....
Before Knight can finish, he's now the one being interrupted as a smirk MJF walks into the frame. Both Balor and Knight just stare at him
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN:Before I say anything, do you like have something?
MJF looks at Knight who is confused.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I mean with the yelling of “yeah” randomly and just like the way you talk…if I make fun of you will I get “canceled”?
Knight obviously takes offense but the smile comes back to MJF.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN: I’m just kidding, I don’t give a damn if people try to cancel me or not. Listen, you both are talking a lot and you really believe in yourselves, good for you. Last week you beat Shark Boy and you should feel great about yourself, but tonight I’m going to do that too…but I won’t need someone else helping. Unlike you who barely won, I’m going to show why I’m the dominant wrestler in this company.
Finn and Knight both look ready to take a step forward to him.
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN:Listen, when I spoke about a new era of UWF. I meant both of you as well, finally some real wrestlers doing real wrestling. No more men in their forties running around in Shark costumes or wanna be actors with belly tattoos that look like a target for their boyfriend's final shot. But along with understanding you are part of the new era of UWF, you also need to understand your place in that era. The Royal Rumble, you both might have a fantastic showing…in fact I believe you both are going to turn a lot of heads. But don’t kid yourselves on who is going to win. Don’t set expectations you can’t actually reach, you both are a step above a lot of wrestlers here, but you are still no on my level. Come Royal Rumble I’m going to take my much earned step to the front of the line. So try to remember the reality of this world you now live in when you think about the Royal Rumble and what’s to come after. And that reality is that I’m better than both of you and you know it.
Cody Rhodes step in and he begin to speak.
Cody Rhodes:Pardon me, gentlemen. I believed you all got the wrong idea because as much as I agreed you all are extremely talented and impressed enough to win the Royal Rumble. Everyone know there is only one man that is mote deserving to win the Royal Rumble and you guys are looking at him.
I respect all of you guys and I am a former UWF Champion. So I know how it feels to hold the top most important championship in thus company. You all already know I was born to win and it is in my blood. You all already know I would fight with everything I got until I stop breathing to win the Royal Rumble. As for you Prince. I will see you in the ring.
Cody Rhodes shakes Finn Bálor's hand before he walks away from the scene.
Finn Balor: Although he isn’t going to win the Rumble, he is a stand up guy. I got a match to prepare for i’ll leave the debating between you two.
Finn Balor then laughs as he shakes his head leaving both Knight and MJF standing there staring down each other as the camera fades to black .
As, “See Me Shine” by Bone Thugz-n-Harmony begins to play, the UWF fans immediately begin to boo as they know who the theme music belongs to and who they’re inevitably about to have to look at. Not missing a beat, out walks Batista with the Hollywood Championship proudly on him as he makes his way down the ramp to the ring.
Tony Chimel: From Washington, D.C. Weighing in at two hundred and ninety pounds. He is the reigning Hollywood Champion and the leader of The Guild, the, “Hollywood Animal”, BAATIIISSSSTTTTAAAA!!!
Batista goes to the nearest turnbuckle and ascends it, using the opportunity to show off the belt once more before stepping down and getting ready for the match ahead.
When Lie, Cheat, Steal by Jim Johnston plays, The UWF Universe See a low rider coming out from the back and drives it smoothly out here onto the stage and rides it straight down towards the ramp away and he pulls to a stop and turned on the switches inside of his low rider an stops it and gets out of his low rider in starts shaking his arms in gets inside of the Revolution ring and climbs up the top rope and beats on his chest and shakes his arms once again and head over towards the other top rope and does the exact same thing beats his chest and does the shake an gets down from the top rope
Tony Chimel: From El Paso, Texas Weighing in at two hundred and twenty eight pounds Eddie Guerrero
Vs
The bell sounds and Guerrero and Batista circle one another. Both men then meet centre of the ring and lock up, Eddie Guerrero quickly circles round and takes the back of Batista, Big Dave however uses his power to break the grip and spins around looking to grab Eddie by the head but Eddie quick as a cat is not there. Eddie once again grabs the rear waistlock and this time trips the Hollywood megastar down to the mat and circles round to grab a front-facelock. Batista's foot taps the mat as he tries to get back to his feet. The powerful Batista gets back to semi-vertical base, Eddie's arms still wrapped around his head and neck but Big Dave uses his power to push Eddie into the corner. The referee begins the count as Batista forces Eddie into the turnbuckles and Eddie relinquishes his grip letting Batista go but as Batista backs up 'Latino Heat' slaps him across the face which enrages the Hollywood Champion. Batista lunges at Eddie but Eddie once again uses his quick reflexes to ditch the match and get out of dodge taking refuge beside his Mamacita, Eve Torres, on the outside.
Mauro Ranallo: Eddie Guerrero, the quicker - faster man using that to his advantage here in the early going.
Corey Graves: You say early going - but slapping our Hollywood Champion across the face like that?, I don't think this is going to last too much longer guys.
Batista goes after Eddie on the outside and Eddie makes a run for it around the ring. Batista stalks his prey just as his moniker 'The Animal' suggests. Eddie continues to circle the ring before rolling into the ring and motioning for Batista to come and join him. Batista obliges but as soon as he does Eddie drops back out to the outside. Eddie laughs as the crowd cheer his usual cheeky antics, but Batista is not in the mood to have fun tonight and he runs at Eddie and drops under the ropes with a Baseball Slide Dropkick knocking Eddie into the guard rail on the outside. Batista grabs Eddie and begins to go to town with right hands and clubbing blows across the back of his opponent before he tosses him under the ropes and into the ring. Batista then gets in the ring himself and grabs Eddie by the hair before hitting him with a big Back Elbow which sends Eddie stumbling across the ring into the corner. Batista then begins to drive his shoulder deep into the abdomen of Eddie who winces in pain. Batista repeats this and then again before he grabs Eddie by the arm and drags him out of the corner by one arm and just about takes his head off with a big ol' Short Arm Clothesline!. Batista quickly rolls a slumped Eddie Guerrero over for the cover.
1..
2..
Eddie rolls the shoulder out.
Tom Phillips: Incredible power from 'The Animal' but Eddie Guerrero is a multi time former champion here in the UWF, he's been out of action for a but that doesn't make him easy prey for 'The Animal' tonight.
Corey Graves: If he was smart he'd just stay down and save himself for the Rumble, not that it matters because you are looking at the winner right there in Big Dave Batista!
Batista grabs Eddie by the head and lifts him up before hoisting him up onto his humungous shoulder. Batista walks around for a while with the prone Guerrero on his shoulder before he runs at the turnbuckle to drive Eddie head first into the top turnbuckle but Eddie slips out and pushes Batista into the top turnbuckle instead. Batista stumbles backwards out of the corner and Eddie waits for him to spin around before he grabs him by the head and hits him with a stiff European Uppercut. Eddie makes the repeat forcing Batista into the corner before climbs up onto the second rope before springing backwards and kicking Batista up high into the air in a show of incredible strength and athleticism with his patented Monkey Flip!. The crowd go wild as Eddie gets to his feet and does a little dance, he's feeling the 'heat'. The crowd chant 'Eddie!, Eddie!' as Batista crawls over onto the middle rope. Eddie runs at the downed Hollywood Champion and jumps onto his upper body driving his throat into the middle rope and bouncing him back to the mat below. Eddie then steps out to the outside and with the crowd on his side and his Mamacita applauding hims every move Eddie pulls himself up and over the top rope onto Batista with the Hilo!
Mauro Ranallo: Eddie Guerrero is turning up the heat for Batista tonight!
Corey Graves: I don't know what he's saying half the time but he's certainly putting in the performance tonight, he's caught Batista napping here tonight!
Batista is gasping for air, grabbing at the ropes trying to get himself back to his feet and just as he does Guerrero kicks him square in the gut before putting his arm around the big man's head and lifting him up into the air and down to the met with a Vertical Suplex. Eddie pops those hips and goes for another and his it. The crowd are at fever pitch as Eddie pops the hips again and looks for the Three Amigos but Batista blocks Eddie's suplex attempt by hooking his leg with his own. Batista then reaches up with his hand and rakes the face of Eddie. The crowd boo as the referee admonishes Batista, but Big Dave isn't interested as he shakes the cobwebs off and waits for the semi-blinded Guerrero to turn around before he lifts him into the air and spikes him hard down into the mat with his signature Spinebuster!. Batista shouts a bunch of expletives at Guerrero, asking him who he thinks he is, who he thinks he's dealing with. Batista shakes the ropes and turns around waiting for his opponent to get up, still clutching at his eyes Eddie is soon the victim to a kick to the gut before Batista hoists him up into the and drives him back down with a devastating Batista Bomb!. Big Dave covers for the forgone conclusion.
1...
2...
...3!
Winner: Batista!
The crowd boo as Batista gets up off of Eddie Guerrero and demands he be removed from the ring as he heads to the top rope to let the world know his big plan for next Sunday, the crowd aren't with it but Big Dave doesn't care as he beats his chest and holds his hands high in the air.
Mauro Ranallo: Eddie Guerrero was a game opponent tonight, but Batista is a man on a mission and that mission is the Royal Rumble.
Corey Graves: There's 30 men that enter that Rumble match next Sunday, but only one Hollywood Champion, one 'Animal' and I think he's got a great chance of winning the whole thing!
Tom Phillips: You can't discredit Eddie Guerrero, he's just warming up since his return and maybe at the Royal Rumble he can pull another fast one and lie, cheat and steal his way to that Wrestlemania main event!
Eddie is on the outside licking his wounds as Eve tends to him, Batista continues to gloat as we go elsewhere...
We go backstage where Shark Boy is walking down the hall in the distance and can be heard shouting...
Shark Boy: Hey, Mister Cameraman ya sorry son of a fish, I got somethin' to say, c'mere!
The camera stops still as Shark Boy approaches.
Well damn son I didn't mean to scare ya stiff, don't just stand there like a damn deer in the headlights cos I ain't fixin' to shoot ya, let's walk n' talk!...
Shark Boy sets off down the hall with the cameraman in tow.
See Christmas was just last month, but this right here is the most wonderful time of the year to ol' Shark Boy. As a matter of fact it was just around this time last year that ol' Shark Boy made his triumphant return to the UWF, when I swam back to these shores and let everybody know that the UWF is Shark Boy's waters. Now last year at the Royal Rumble I run it pretty damn close and if it weren't for some outside interference I might've walked out as the winner and main evented Wrestlemania but it wasn't to be, it wasn't Shark Boy's time yet. Nah a sorry son of a fish by the name of Seth Rollins walked out that night the winner and he went on to headline Wrestlemania with the man I helped run out of town, CM Punk. Now comes round to this year and things have changed. Big names like Seth Rollins, like CM Punk?, they're gone. We've got returning megastars like Eddie Guerrero, Hulk Hogan and we've got the future of UWF, guys like that crazy redneck bastard Trevor Lee and guys like Leyton Buzzard... guys like my opponent tonight MJF.
Shark Boy stops for a moment.
See guys like MJF are hot on the heels of ol' Shark Boy, they're hungry and a lot of folks probably think that the young lion is ready to step up to the plate but tonight I'm gon' prove that it ain't the young lion that's the top predator here in the UWF, EH-EH, top predator here in the UWF is ol' Shark Boy. See I ain't heard much from Tommaso Ciampa... he's probably in the Accountability Crib with ol' Dally Page alignin' his chakras and doin' a whole bunch of deep, deep stretchin' and each to their own, Shark Boy ain't the man to judge. But ol' Tommy boy has his hands full with a returning Finn Balor tonight and damn right I'll be watchin' and I hope he watches ol' Shark Boy go to town on this young punk MJF's bass tonight too...
Shark Boy heads down the hall once more.
Now that brings me onto the main topic of dicussion and that is next Sunday, the Royal Rumble, the beginning of the Road to Wrestlemania and once I'm done openin' up a big ol' can of bass whip on ol' Pyscho Killer's bass I'm gon' sit my bass down with a cold Sharkweiser and watch and wait. Watch 30 men beat the shell out of each other... and yeah I'll be cheerin' my brother Grado on, but no matter who walks out the winner they best not get ahead of themselves and start dreamin' of this here big ol' gold belt because I'll be waitin' for them. And I'll be waitin' for them at Wrestlemania too. Last year I didn't get that main event, Sami Zayn stuck his nose in where it didn't belong - imagine that - and he had his bass dealt with at Wrestlemania. But this time around, you best believe it's gon' be this ugly mug up the billboard in the main event and it don't matter who walks out of the Royal Rumble with that shot, whether it be Batista... Kyle O'Reilly... Eddie Guerrero... Bronson Steiner... Finn Balor... LA Knight... Danhausen... shell, we'll get co-winners again wasn't that great?. It don't matter none to Shark Boy anyway cos all that's waitin' for them at Wrestlemania is the grandaddy of all bass whoopins courtest of your UWF Champion and THAT'S THE FISHIN' LIIIIINE... COS SHARK BOY SAID SO!
The crowd roar as Shark Boy walks off into the distance the UWF title trailing behind him in his hand as we head elsewhere.
Backstage the cameras opens up on the reigning Intercontinental Champion Danhausen, who is keen to address the recent actions of Eddie Kingston, the next official contender and threat to his title.
Danhausen
They say silence is golden, or at least Danhausen thinks that is the appropriate human expression to use for the current circumstances he finds himself in. For two weeks straight, the false King Edward invaded both Danhausen’s personal and television time in order to make his foul intentions crystal clear. Danhausen kept quiet last week so as to not detract from his match with Laketown Birdman, but now that a showdown has been officially declared for the Monarch Earthquake event, the time for silence will soon be brought to a close, because Danhausen will let his actions that night bring some much deserved dark justice to Edward and his heinous ways.
Danhausen
And let Danhausen’s actions tonight against Insane Samuel send a message not just to Edward, but to all other Monarch Earthquake competitors that are stood in the way of Danhausen’s path to the Ultimate Wrestling Title. You can talk up your chances all you want, but know that when Danhausen enters the frenzy, any claims you made prior will not be able to be backed up, because regardless of whether Danhausen draws an early entry like he did last year, or strikes a little luckier with a later spot this time around, through wind, rain, snow or sunshine, he’s going the whole damn way!
As Danhausen pats the title belt on his shoulder a couple of times for good measure, the camera feed starts to slowly feed out to resume elsewhere.
We head down to the ring where Finn Balor is already standing by.
As Like a Villain blasts over the speakers Ciampa walks out onto stage, hood up and looking down, followed by DDP. The crowd cheers pair loudly, Ciampa would stand focussed as DDP would lower his hood down and Ciampa would look at the ring, not taking his focus off it
Tony Chimel: Making his way to the ring and being accompanied by DDP from Boston, Massachusetts weighing in tonight at 201lbs he is The "Psycho Killer" Tommaso Ciampa.
Making his march down to the ring, Ciampa would bump fists with some audience members but would keep his eyes on his challenger. Getting to the ring steps, he would kneel down with one leg and look like he's saying a mantra of sorts before slapping the steps to make a loud noise before running up them and getting into the ring.
Ciampa then jumps down from the turnbuckle and looks out at the audience, nodding he jumps down and hands his jacker to DDP, getting into the corner he does some stretches before turning round to sit in the corner, waiting for whats to come.
VS
DING DING DING
Ciampa runs right at Balor, looking for a fight after what transpired between hi and Shark Boy last week. Balor is caught off guard and eats the majority of the punches, backing away into the corner and not getting free until the ref has to physically pull Ciampa off of him. Ciampa is trying to get past him and Balor blindsides him with a cheap shot. He's knocked on his ass and Balor climbs on top of him and starts unloading with fists of his own. Ciampa manages to roll away and get to his feet. Balor runs at him and hits a Shotgun Dropkick that knocks him into the corner where the back of his head collides with the middle turnbuckle. Balor goes straight to the top rope to end things already.
Tom Phillips: Finn Balor is looking to end things right here!
Mauro Ranallo: Such a quick and decisive victory over the #1 contender has got to catapult him into title contention.
Corey Graves: Ciampa's gone soft and this is what he gets.
Balor comes off the top rope for the Coup De Grace but Ciampa rolls out of the way! Balor rolls through back up to his feet and turns around only to run into a big Lariat from Ciampa! Tommaso picks him right back up lifts him up for the Project Ciampa! Balor fights back with punches to the skull and falls back into a Hurrincanrana. Ciampa rolls up to his feet and turns around into a Slingblade! He gets to his feet only to get taken down with another! He pops up a third time and rushes at Balor with a Lariat but Finn ducks it and shoves him into the ropes. Ciampa hits them chest first and Balor is right there to roll him up!
1 . . .
2 . . .
3 . . .
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Finn Balor!
Corey Graves: He did it!
Mauro Ranallo: Between Finn Balor, LA Knight and MJF, it looks like business has picked up here in the UWF.
Ciampa is furious and looks like he wants to keep on fighting but DDP holds him back, keeping him at bay to try and keep his anger in check. Balor just smirks at him and this only pisses Tommaso off. Balor decides to leave him sulking in the ring as he confidently heads up the ramp to the back as the show moves on.
The titantron switches from the UWF graphic to a lvie feed from backstage where Renee Young is standing by.
Young: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time, Kyle O'Reilly.
Kyle walks into the shot looking like he's in a bad mood. There's ants at this guy's picnic for sure. Renee, keen investigative journalist that she is, picks up on it right away.
Young: Oh hey Kyle... why the long face?
KO'R: This is my normal face.
Young: Yeah... no... it's uh... well, it's an expression, right? A pretty well known -
KO'R: The only face that's gonna be long around here is Batista's when I pull his skull out through his mouth and all the leftover skin is floppy like... like... like stretched play-doh or something, I dunno.
He kinda trails off as he glares into the mid-distance, improperly using the goal-visualization technique he was taught in therapy to contemplate vengeance in extreme detail.
Young: I can see why you would be in a bad way after what Batista did to Granna and Miguel last week. How are they holding up?
Kyle sniffs a little then answers.
KO'R: They're fine. Well... they say they're gonna be fine. Really they're just keeping beds warm for Batista and his stupid friends cause when I'm done with them it's gonna take the whole entire hospital to fix those jerks.
Young: Right. But first things first, you've got Cody Rhodes in a match tonight. You two squared off before at Bad Blood. Any plans on mixing things up for the rematch.
KO'R: Every second in between right now and when I get my hands on Batista is a second where I'm thinking about what I'm going to do once I get my hands on Batista. I'm not mad at Cody anymore. I got over that. I beat him up and walked away. On the playgrounds I come from in the mean streets of Burnaby, that mean we're settled.
Except he's still running his mouth, so I'm just gonna beat him up some more - like real bad - and imagine in my head that it's Batista the whole time.
Young: Sounds like quite the fixation.
He nods.
KO'R: Uh-huh.
Young: What about the Royal Rumble? You challenged Batista to an Anarchy Rulez match that promises to be quite the wild brawl - aren't your worried you'll be too banged up to do well in the Rumble itself?
O'Reilly shakes his head.
KO'R: I only got one priority right now and it's murdering Batista, okay? It's not even about the Hollywood Championship or his Prime Time Medal. It's about street justice and the code of honour and showing bullies that they can't get away with it. A few years ago, though, me and Mark won the tag titles and then later that night I walked into Aztec Warfare, was the first guy to beat Ultramantis Black in like a thousand years or something, and then practically almost won the whole thing. So maybe if my hands aren't too broken from punching Batista in the head over and over again, then I'll worry about trying something like that one more time.
Young: Alright, well, good luck with the uh... the vindictive quest for absolution and all the other stuff too, I guess.
KO'R: Thanks.
Kyle heads down the hall towards Gorilla while Renee signs off. Revolution rolls on!
From wherever the show had just been, the cameras go to the backstage area, where two figures are seen standing by. With the camera at a sizable distance to start with, it is difficult to determine just who is there at first. Once the lens re-focuses however, two things make it quite clear - their attires, and the first sentences picked up on the shotgun mic attached to the camera.
Trevor Lee: "...the HECK were ya' doin' out there, Andy?! What were ya' thinkin'?! Ya' let that...that..."
As the cameraman makes their stealthy approach, Trevor Lee is seen trying to calm himself down from this tirade he is beginning to launch on "The Butcher". Pulling up a chair, Lee takes a seat, letting his chin fall into his hands as he contemplates his next course of action.
Finally, after a few moments pass, Lee looks back up to Andy.
Trevor Lee: "I...ya' let mista' Nightmare get a shot at the U-Dubya-Eff Television Championship, Andy."
With an exhale, Lee feels their own hot breath hitting their forefingers, ruminating in their own thoughts once more.
Trevor Lee: "Ya' let mista' Nightmare play ya' like a gosh darn FOOL on national television, catchin' ya' wit' the exact same gosh darn trick that he caught me wit', that cheatin' scoundrel! Now he's got a shot at the Television Title, Andy! He's got a shot at the TV Title, an' y'know..."
Lee looks up to find the TV Title in the hands of The Butcher still, but barely acknowledges it as he looks past it.
Trevor Lee: "I know what I told ya' back at Harlan. I told ya' that the TV Title didn't matter to me anymore, an' that still remains the case! That title just don't do anythin' for me anymore, I am beyon' that belt, I am above that whole crop o' talent that's goin' to be scroungin' for the scraps o' my le-gen-da-ry reign, but ya' know what, Andy? I think I realized it now."
Lee stands up to his full height, looking up into The Butcher's eyes...or, at least, the one not clouded by his monocle. Seeming infuriated by the choice of attire, Trevor reaches up and rips it off of the face of his friend, being able to now look him dead in the eyes as he shakes his head.
Trevor Lee: "I ain't mad at ya', Andy...I'll get that straight wit' ya' right now, right to ya' face. I ain't mad...I'm jus' disappointed that ya' couldn't do one simple job, an' keep ya' best friend from competin' twice in one night. Now instead of givin' me an easy cruise through twenty nine other hapless schmucks...well...hol' on..."
Lee thinks back, taking a moment to himself as he turns away from the camera, ensuring that he does not catch on quite yet to this conversation being recorded in secret.
Trevor Lee: "Let me correct that there number right quick - twenty eight other schmucks an' mista' Sami Zayn, the one man who truly is willin' to be an ally towards furtherin' this 'ere professional 'rasslin company to the stra-to-spher-ic heights that I can brin' the U-Dubya-Eff to as its soon-to-be WORLD Champion. Poin' is, Andy, ya' done gone made my job a whole heck o' a lot harder, 'cause now I gotta' not only beat mista' Nightmare like what woulda' happened if he hadn't cheated wit' that lil' ol' sneak attack on yours truly, but then I'm goin' to go on in the Royal Rumble match, wit' only ONE ally by my side, an' somehow have to survive that there massive throwdown to walk away the better man, as per usual!"
Expressing further disappointment in Andy, his eyes would lock onto the UWF Television Championship, and after snatching it from his hands, Trevor would walk off from the room, leaving Andy behind...and after a few moments? Andy's gaze would lock onto the camera...but not a word is said, as he simply turns around to ignore it once more, allowing the camera feed to go elsewhere...
Suddenly the lights start to darken and flicker...
Cheers begin to ring all around the arena as the music plays and Danhausen takes to the stage. After a couple of slow spins around the stage area, Danhausen then raises his arms and gives out a determined yell as the crowd pops in appreciation.
Tony Chimel
Making his way to the ring, from Someplace Far Away, weighing at least 300lbs, Danhausen!!
Danhausen heads down the ramp, waving politely at some of the fanhausens in attendance before he hops up onto the apron and signals the nearby cameraman to get a close up shot of him. Danhausen then points directly into the camera lens and yells “Love That Danhausen!” before climbing through the middle rope and posing in the center of the ring with his arms held high once again.
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 as he also brings out a big mirror. He ends up calming down a bit but still walks with some swagger down the ramp carrying the big mirror while holding he is swinging his belt around like he's got a big one.
Tony Chimel: From Montreal Quebec, Canada, weighing in at 212 pounds, The Dynamic Sami Zayn!!
Sami places the big mirror outside on the floor near the steel stairs before he 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.
Mauro Ranallo: Why is Sami Zayn carrying a huge mirror out to the ring?
Corey Graves: Maybe he has something up his sleeve to beat that clown Danhausen.
VS
Both men tie up and they test each other's strength before Sami locks up Danhausen in a headlock. Danhausen pushes him away as Sami bounces off from the ropes and he tries to clothesline Danhausen. But he ducks as Sami misses him and Danhuasen takes him down with a neckbreaker. Danhausen hook the leg and Zayn quickly kick out. He grabs Sami and hits him with a northern lights suplex as Sami Zayn reverses it. He is holding the rights and the referee begins to count.
1......
2......
and a kick out.
Sami holds his head and he yells at the referee as he points out it was a three count. Danhausen hits Sami from behind as he turns him around and he lifts him up. He attempts to hit the Very Nice, Very Kneevil which is his version of the GTS and Sami falls down as the referee begins the count.
1......
2......
and a kick out.
Mauro Ranallo: How the heck did Sami manage to kick out of that?
Corey Graves: I don't know. But he did it!!!
Danhausen grabbed Sami as he sent him to the turnbuckle and he walked over to the turnbuckle. He climbs up and he starts slowing Sami with punches until he stops with the count of 10 as Zayn falls off the turnbuckle. Danhuasen raised both of his hands and he cheered as Zayn was dizzy on the floor. Then Danhausen slides himself out of the ring and he grabs his jar of teeth as he goes back into the ring. He goes to Zayn as he pours the contents down his throat and he goes to the corner. He poses before he runs and he hits Zayn with the running big boot sending the contents onto the floor. The referee cleans up the mess while Sami is rolling around in pain and Danhausen quickly walks over to hook the leg.
1.....
and a kick out.
Danhausen looked at the referee with a confused look and the referee told him it was only a two count.
Sami use the opportunity to roll himself out of the ring and he takes a deep breath as Danhausen turn around to see him. He slides outside of the ring and he runs at Sami as he turns to clothesline him. But Zayn ducks and he send him to the ring steps as Danhuasen's back hit the steel steps. Zayn is barking at him while he starts stomping on his chest and he grab him. He whip him to the turnbuckle and Danhuasen hits the turnbuckle as Zayn walk over to him. He grab him and he hits a Half and Half suplex outside of the ring while the referee is counting. Then he grabs Danhausen and throws him into the ring as he gets into the ring before he gets counted out. Sami waits for Danhausen to get up as he waits by the turnbuckle and he gets up. Zayn runs and hits Danhausen with the Helluva Kick and Danhausen is down as Zayn hooks the leg. He has a big smile on his face and the referee begin the count.
1........
2........
and a kick out.
Mauro Ranallo: Oh My God, How did Danhuasen kick out?
Corey Graves: There is no way in hell, that clown just kicked out after that helva kick!?
Sami Zayn slides himself outside of the ring as he takes the mirror that he brought out and he places it into the ring. Danhausen points at Sami Zayn with both his fingers and he yells "Beat" while Sami grabs the big mirror to shield himself from the magic. But the problem backfires and the mirror falls down as Danhausen places the curse on him again. Sami Zayn turns away from Danhausen to avoid the magic attack as Danhuasen uses the opportunity to roll him up and the referee begins the count.
1.......
2........
and 3.......
Announcer: Here is your winner: I.C. Champion Danhausen!!!!!!!
The scene fades and ends with Danhuasen celebrating his win in the ring while Sami Zayn storms to the back and he is seen throwing a tantrum over his loss by throwing equipment backstage onto the floor .
The feed suddenly goes to the Las Vegas strip of all places and a man can be seen in the distance clad in a singlet and cowboy hat. As the camera moves closer to the man it can soon be seen that it is in fact the one and only Grado!, Grado turns around with a big smile on his face as he greets the UWF Universe.
Grado: Aw, it's yerself!... now I know wit yer thinkin'. You're all thinkin', Grado, wit are you dain' oot there on the Las Vegas strip. Well listen closely my friends because it will all become clear to you very soon. But first of all I'd just like to say how absolutely beautiful it is standin' out here with all this sun, seein' all the Gradomaniacs here in Las Vegas. People have been comin' up to me non-stop and they've been wantin' photies, they've been wantin' authgraphs, they've been wantin' me to do their TikTok dances, everybody here wants a wee bit of Grado and you better believe I'm givin' the people what they want because that's just the kinda guy I am. As a matter of fact - see this hat?, this cowboy hat that's got me standin' here like a Poundland J.R, I traded this for my cap that I signed for a fan just ten minutes ago just down the street, it's been mental you could even say... Gradomania's been runnin' wild, brother!
Grado flexes and cups his ear as a small smattering of tourists stop to take photos of the man in the cowboy hat and leotard.
Just some of my adoring fans there. But like I said... Las Vegas, it'll make sense. See I'm out here in preparation of one of the biggest nights in my career. See I've been gone, I've been out of the loop. I've been busy doin' some actin' back home, doin' a bit of comedy and making everybody laugh but I'll be wrong if I said I didn'y miss the wrestlin'. So when the opportunity came up, when the chance came up to enter the Royal Rumble... you better believe I rolled the dice.. you better believe I put it all on black and you better believe I'm all in. See this is aw a big gamble for me because imagine I won?, I'd have to fight my best pal, my best mate, my brother Shark Boy for the UWF Title at Wrestlemania and I know ye's are aw thinkin' aw that'd be some dream match and aye it would but I'd hate to be the guy who took the belt aff Shark Boy... don't tell him I said that by the way... cut that.
Grado approaches the cameraman and makes a cutting motion with his hand but is then told he's live.
Apparently... we're live pal. Well ignore that... let's just focus on the now and the now is Grado's out here having a good time, having the time of his life and all in the name of a metaphor. See I'm rollin' the dice at the Royal Rumble, I'm takin' the chance and I can't wait to get that jackpot baby. There's 29 other guys in that match, big names, big brutes, high flyers, maniacs and wee magic guys, the lot. But there's only wan Grado, wan chubby wee chancer fae Stevenston that should never have even made it this far but here we are, I'm in the US of A, I'm in Las Vegas, I've got a cowboy hat on and you better believe I'm walkin' into that Royal Rumble like John Wayne in an ol' cowboy film. I'm shootin' in every direction, I'm puttin' it all on the line in the name of a dream. The dream to finally get a shot at Wrestlemania, my name up in the bright lights and you better believe I'm puttin' every ounce of my bein' into this, I've been training, I've even been on the bloody stairmaster - my arse is in agony. All in the name of gettin' that chance, that opportunity that I've always wanted and you better believe I'm puttin' my heart in this next Sunday. I know I like a laugh, I like a joke, I like a giggle but I'm takin' this seriously, I want to win and although the odds might no be in my favour... when are they ever?, put your money on the underdog next Sunday, put yer money on hope, put yer money on a dream, put yer money on Grado cos I'm about to make bank, hit the jackpot and believe it or not I'm about to win myself a Royal Rumble... IT'S YERSEL!
Grado screams his catchphrase at the top his lungs before some policemen come up and tell him he's causing a ruckus - the feed fades and we return to our regular broadcast.
Tony Chimel: From Atlanta, Georgia, Making their way to the ring, the American Nightmare, Cody Rhodes!
The pryo goes off as the American Nightmare come out to a huge ovation from the roaring crowd and he has a huge smile on his face.
A lion synthethetic violion whispers through the air like a pretodactyl screech. Soon, a breakbeat ripples beneath. Strobe lights illuminate the entrance way. When the riff kicks in, it heralds the arrival of the Diabetic Dragon. Kyle O'Reilly storms out on to the ramp, fists and jaw clenched, looking like the quiet kid on a bad day while his step-sister Bayley follows close behind. He does some shadow boxing at the head of the ramp while Tony announces his stats.
Chimel: Being accompanied to the ring by Bayley, from Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada... weighing in at 200 pounds... Kyle O'Reilly!
Our beloved Canuck's pace is in lock-step with the groove en route to the squared circle. The fans in the arena born on the good side of 9/11 know the words and can't help but sing along when the chorus drops. Feeding off that energy, Kyle is spiritually compelled to shred some air guitar as he steps through the ropes to compete. He rocks the heck out with the UWF Universe before getting ready to friggin fight. Bayley, meanwhile, lurks and lingers on the fringe of the squared circle, ready to fight dirty if it comes to that.
VS
DING DING DING
Kyle comes right out of the corner and starts throwing strikes as if he's doing battle with none other than Batista himself. Cody ain't just gonna sit and take it like a bitch though. He fights back with a few strikes of his own but Kyle being the more experienced striker of the two manages to gain the upper hand. He hits him with a Calf Kick and Mui Thai Knee Lift and finishes it up with a Leg Sweep to knock him flat on his back. O'Reilly jumps right on him in a full mount and starts throwing down Palm Strikes. Cody covers up as best he can but it's the ref who saves him as he counts to 4 and has to pull Kyle off before he gets disqualified.
Corey Graves: If you ask me, the ref should have just disqualified him rather than stepping in.
Mauro Ranallo: This match just started. The fans wouldn't be happy if that happened.
Corey Graves: Who cares what these fans think. This is about the sanctity of our great sport that Kyle O'Reilly is tarnishing with his fake fighter bullcrap.
Cody goes to the ropes and pulls himself up. He looks Kyle who is standing around bobbing and weaving, getting ready for round two. Cody comes at him an goes for a lock up, hoping to overpower him. Kyle immediately takes his arm and twists it behind him in a Hammerlock. Cody reaches back and grabs Kyle's head and manages to roll him forward. Kyle lands in a seated position and Cody puts him in a Chin Lock. Kyle fights up to his feet and Cody transitions into a Sleeper Hold. Kyle reaches out for the ropes but he's too far from them. He instead reaches up and grabs Cody's head and drops down for a Chin Breaker! Cody turns away and Kyle comes up behind him and lifts him onto his shoulders. He then drops him down to make him Ride The Lightening!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Cody kicks out! He sits up but O'Reilly had hoped for that. He comes off the ropes and nails the Orange Slice! Rather than go for another pin, he grabs Cody and brings him up to his feet. He scoops Rhodes onto his shoulders and starts to spin him round and round with an Airplane Spin but Cody slips off his shoulders and pushes him forward into the ropes. Kyle hangs on but Cody comes over and Clotheslines him over the ropes. O'Reilly hangs on but Cody runs to the adjacent ropes and gives him a Disaster Kick to knock him off the apron! Kyle goes down but goes to pick himself right back up. Cody climbs to the top rope and O'Reilly doesn't seem to notice him. Rhodes comes off with a Moonsault and lands right on Kyle! He picks him up right away and tosses him back into the ring, following him in for the pin.
1 . . .
2 . . .
O'Reilly kicks out!
Mauro Ranallo: O'Reilly isn't one to give up that quick.
Corey Graves: It doesn't matter if he wants to or not. Sometimes your body just gives up on you and we know Kyle has a tendency to knock himself out.
Tom Phillips: Well I guess if there was someone who knows what it's like to have your body fail you...
Corey Graves: I wouldn't say another word if I was you Phillips.
Cody picks Kyle up and puts him in position for the Cross Rhodes. Kyle lifts his knee up and drills Cody in the face. Rhodes just eats it and so Kyle gives him a second one, this time loosening up his grip to break free. Kyle then grabs him and hits the Insulin Injection! Cody uses his wherewithal and rolls away to the ropes to escape a potential pin. Kyle comes over and grabs him and starts giving him some knees in the clinch. He shoots him off the ropes but pays for it when Cody jumps onto the middle rope and comes back with a Cody Cutter! He makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Kyle gets the shoulder up at 2! Cody this time grabs Kyle's legs and goes to place him into the Figure Four. When he spins around, the Diabetic Dragon places a foot on his backside and shoves him forward into the ropes. Cody comes off them and goes to kick Kyle in the chest but O'Reilly catches it and trips him up, rolling back into a Single Leg Boston Crab! Not to just rest of the laurels, Kyle grabs Cody's knee and just starts punching the hell out of it. Cody yells out and crawls as fast as he can to the ropes. Being the bigger of the two, he's able to use his size to drag Kyle back and get the rope break.
Kyle keeps it on until the count of 3. He walks away and the ref checks on Cody. Bayley is on the outside cheering her bro on as he walks to the middle of the ring and goes to summon the DragonZord! The crowd sings along with the tune and Cody is using the ropes to get back to his feet. He has his back turned to him and has no idea what's coming. He comes up behind him and goes tom place him in the full nelson but Cody uses his power to keep his arms from going all the way up. He manages to elbow Kyle in the head a few times to send him retreating. Cody runs at him with a Clothesline but Kyle jumps up and grabs his arm, flipping him over onto his back to lock in the Vanilla Bar! Rather than risk more injury before his big match, Cody opts to just tap out.
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Kyle O'Reilly!
Kyle gets his hand raised and Bayley comes in to smack away the ref's hand and raise it herself. Kyle is staring right into camera, just hoping Batista witnessed his future as the show moves on.
Seemingly without a second to waste, the cameras would switch over to showcase some part of the arena previously unseen - a staircase leading up somewhere being shown, but where it goes is unimportant. What is important is the figure that sits at the bottom of the stairs; mister Trevor Lee would be sat alone, now clad in what appears to be more casual wear than we've seen him dressed in before - a black hoodie hiding the physique previously shown to the fans earlier in the night, with his long hair even done up into a bun of some sort, giving the mayor of Harlan an appearance more befitting of a typical piece of street riff raff than someone holding the political power that he does.
Remaining alone temporarily, Lee's gaze would be fixated down on the screen of his phone, his attention devoted entirely to whatever he is reading over, given how his eyes flicker back-and-forth every so often. Line after line of text passes through his vision, yet the face of the Television Champion remains still.
Kayla Braxton: "Excuse me, mister Trevor Lee-"
Finding himself interrupted, Lee's gaze would rise to meet the call of one Kayla Braxton, with the mask returning to his face; a welcoming smile forms rapidly, knowing now the cameras are rolling.
Trevor Lee: "Ah, miss Braxton, how lovely to see ya' again! It's been quite a while, hasn't it, darlin'? What can mista' Trevor Lee do for ya' on this fine night?"
Taking a moment to let his hospitality be shown to the fans, Lee would set down his phone on the stair he's sat on, placing full attention onto Kayla, who clears her throat.
Kayla Braxton: "Well, mister Trevor Lee, I just wanted to get your thoughts on your next Television Championship defense against 'The American Nightmare' Cody Rhodes. Last week, you had come out after the match began to announce the stipulation on Cody's match with 'The Butcher' Andy Williams, yet many are claiming you had done this on purpose to sabotage your supposed best friend-"
Having listened to what Kayla was telling him, Lee's smile would slowly fade over time, until finally reaching a breaking point at the baseless accusation thrown his way. Pointing at the camera, Lee would motion for Kayla to simmer down and let the mayor speak.
Trevor Lee: "miss Braxton, darlin', sweetheart, please, if ya' would be so kin' as to let me speak for a moment, I can explain jus' what happened out there last week on Revolution. Last week, what happened was nothin' short o' a gosh darn tragedy. That mista' American Nightmare, he played poor ol' Andy like a gosh darn fool! He made 'em out to look like a complete chump, wit' that same ol' sneak attack that he pulled 'gainst myself to even get his name into consideration for my U-Dubya-Eff Television title in the first place. An' yet, if I am hearin' this correctly, which given the fact I ain't got no hearin' aid or any o' those deficiencies that some other folk sadly got, I would be hearin' this a hundred percent correctly...ya' tryin' to blame me for purposefully costin' Andy that match...so that way Cody could get himself a shot at my U-Dubya-Eff Television Championship?"
Lee chuckles at this.
Trevor Lee: "Do ya' even hear what ya' sayin', dearie? Do ya' even know the words that jus' done gone an' came outta' that mouth o' yours? That's gotta' be one o' the absolute mos' brain dead things I ever done did hear in my whole entire life! I'm bein' serious 'ere, miss Braxton, who the H-E-double hockey stick did ya' hear those so-called reports from, 'cause that is the type o' tripe that deserves to get people fired from their jobs for how baseless, an' false, an' downright slanderous that claim truly is!"
At first, it seems Trevor is going to reset back to the happy mask he typically wears, but this time? It seems he's ready to let off some steam, as he remains angered.
Trevor Lee: "Andy Williams is my BEST FRIEN' in the whole gosh darn world, so what sense does it make for me to purposefully cost 'em a matchup 'gainst the man I now 'ave to face off wit' at Royal Rumble? How does that benefit my career? How does that benefit my record settin' U-Dubya-Eff Television Championship reign? I'll tell ya' how - it DOESN'T, Kayla! It don't benefit me none to cost 'em that there match wit' mista' American Nightmare, an' now...now I'm stuck havin' to wrestle mista' American Nightmare when I ain't really need to, an' then after that I got to enter the Royal Rumble match, put on the single greatest performance that ya' fine folk ever done did see, an' eliminate every single person standin' in my way between those ropes so I can claim what is my destiny, headline Wrestlemania, an' become the NEW U-Dubya-Eff World Heavyweight Champion!"
With that said though, another question seems to pop into the reporter's mind...
Kayla Braxton: "Well, mister Trevor Lee, that actually brings me to another question. These past few weeks, it has seemed as though you are looking past your match with Cody Rhodes completely and are focused solely on the Royal Rumble match, which is making some wonder: where did this obsession with winning the Royal Rumble match come from?"
Trevor Lee: "Obsession?!"
Not giving a moment's hesitation on blurting that out, Lee would have no choice but to roll with his own wording, despite giving a grimace to the camera afterwards, as though it wasn't his intent to let that slip through.
Trevor Lee: "Now miss Braxton, I like ya' as an interviewer. Truly, I much prefer ya' to that other lil' girly who tries an' fails to do ya' job better than ya' ever could, but...ya' call this an obsession?"
Lee takes a breath, trying to reset himself...
Trevor Lee: "Miss Braxton...if it is considered an obsession to wan' to headline the biggest show in U-Dubya-Eff history an' be guar-an-teed a spot in the history books by challengin' for the single grandest prize in the whole entire company, then I s'pose I am obsessed, Kayla. I s'pose I am a bit obsessed, 'cause ya' just don't understand how badly I need this win. Ya' don't understan' just how much I 'ave been clamorin' an' clawin' an' cravin' this moment ever since I joined the U-Dubya-Eff back in May o' last year. Ya' see, ever since I got into this 'ere fine federation, lil' ol' mista' mayor o' Harlan, Kentucky...well, he's gotten 'imself a bit o' a one-track min', I must admit. I got a shot at the Television Championship, an' I focused my entire gosh darn bein' into writin' my name into the history books by becomin' the single greatest U-Dubya-Eff Television Champion o' all time...an' guess what? I did it. It has taken one hundred an' ninety three days an' countin', but I did it. I etched my name into them history books, an' made gosh darn sure that ain't nobody gon' look at that fine piece o' Harlan Gold without thinkin' o' ol mista' Trevor Lee."
"But it ain't just been the Television title that I been focused on. Nah, nah nah nah nah nah, nah, it ain't just that, miss Braxton. Back all those months ago, back when I had gotten my shot at the U-Dubya-Eff Television title, I was also granted a whole 'nother type o' shot at the limelight - I was gifted entry into the King O' The Ring tournament. I was gifted a perfect position to make an impact on this 'ere company...an' ya' know what happened, miss Braxton?"
Trevor Lee lets a beat of silence follow...
Trevor Lee: "I blew it. I lost that there shot, lost it to the man who went on to become the King 'imself. An' for a while, I deluded myself into thinkin' that it was all alright, y'know? I told myself that it didn't bother me none that I wasn't some fancy schmancy king on some throne, that I wasn't given a free pass towards gettin' the U-Dubya-Eff World Heavyweight Championship like mista' Rated-R was given, but that was all a lie, Kayla. Every day that I told myself it was okay, I knew I was doin' nothin' but lyin' to myself, just tryin' to dull the pain that coursed through my very bein' whenever I thought 'bout that there tournament, an' how I failed on that day. An' sure, when mista' Rated-R lost that there World title, I was silently celebratin' that moment the entire time, an' ya' know why? 'Cause a small part o' myself felt it was some sorta' victory - to watch him fail at bein' champion, an' to fall so far down that suddenly he started carin' 'bout his family, even though that is what he shoulda' been doin' the whole gosh darn time, it felt...what's the word? Cathartic, that's it. It felt cathartic to me...but deep, deep down inside myself, I still felt hollow. I felt as though that what I had...the mayor's seat in Harlan, the friendship with Andy, the Television Championship...it wasn't enough. It never would be enough to satisfy the hunger ragin' inside o' me. The same hunger I failed to satisfy when I lost to mista' Rated-R in that first roun' match o' the King O' The Ring tournament. But now..."
Trevor holds a solitary finger high, tilting his head downwards for a moment to give a proper dichotomy towards his movement.
Trevor Lee: "Now...now I got my chance, miss Braxton. Now I got my chance to satisfy what I 'ave been clamorin' for, what I 'ave been clawin' towards, what I 'ave been cravin' ever since I stepped foot outside o' my humble lil' ol' home town an' ventured on out into the real world known as the U-Dubya-Eff. Now, I got a chance to enter this 'ere Royal Rumble match, face off wit' twenty nine other men, an' take control o' my own destiny..."
Falling silent for a few seconds, Lee would remain motionless...until finally looking back up at the lens, a smile starting to brew on his face.
Trevor Lee: "...An' folks...as the sayin' goes, history repeats itself. Whether ya' learn from it or not, history...it always loops on back 'round, it swings its way back to the beginnin', an' the way it repeats...well, it's quite funny, sometimes."
Lee would give a chuckle into the camera, not stopping for a few seconds...
Kayla Braxton: "D-Do you...do you mind e-elaborating, mister Trevor Lee?"
Taking her words as a sign to stop his laughter, Lee's smile would turn venomous, a snake-like smirk forming in its stead.
Trevor Lee: "Four years ago...four long, far gone years ago, the Royal Rumble took place 'ere in the U-Dubya-Eff. Everyone waited wit' bated breath an' an-ti-ci-pa-tion, watchin' to see just who would be squarin' off wit' the U-Dubya-Eff World Champion come Wrestlemania eight. Everyone had their gazes turned towards that there squared circle, be it from the arena itself, or from their lil' televisions tuned in at home, all oh so desperate to fin' out just who was headin' to the big dance. We had legends, we had icons, we had anyone an' everyone showin' up on that night to try an' stake their claim for that there crown...but at the end o' the night, only one man stood victorious...an' that was my own idol. That was my own legend, my own icon, my own personal Lord an' savior inside that there ring...one mista' Vinny Marseglia. Mista' Marseglia walked in that night havin' to face twenty nine other fine folk...an' he walked out wit' twenty nine bodies left behind him, an' only one more standin' between himself an' the throne that would deem him the king o' this 'ere castle. An' I know...I know, folks, that I 'ave gone on an' on 'bout mista' Marseglia in the past, how he acted as my inspiration, how he acted as my muse, my mold, the very foundation o' my bein'! But now, four years later..."
Trevor Lee stops, taking a deep breath through his nose, both inhale and exhale...yet the grin remains all the same.
Trevor Lee: "Four years later...I am ready to become somebody else's legend. I am ready to become someone else's icon, someone else's king, someone else's muse, their mold, their foundation, their own personal Lord an' savior inside that there ring!"
Letting that sit, Lee would begin to laugh, nay, begin to cackle at this thought process overcoming him, slowly but surely standing up from where he sits, tossing off the hoodie he is wearing to reveal the same state of attire he was in when he had chatted earlier with "The Butcher" Andy Williams, as his hair comes free from its bun, giving him a much more deranged, perhaps unhinged visage.
Trevor Lee: "I AM READY, MISTA' MARSEGLIA, TO TAKE YA' PLACE 'ERE IN THE U-DUBYA-EFF! BACK AT SLAMMIVERSARY, YA' GAVE ME YA' BLESSIN' TO STEP UP, TO BE THE NEXT IN-LINE! YA' GAVE ME YA' PRAISE, YA' GAVE ME YA' RENOWN, YA' TOL' ME TO ENSURE THAT NOBODY 'ERE IN THE U-DUBYA-EFF WHO STEPS FOOT INTO HARLAN IS TO LEAVE THAT PLACE ALIVE!"
Lee steps closer, snatching the camera for himself, bringing it close so as to only show the downright manic expression on his face.
Trevor Lee: "SO I DO HOPE THAT YA' WATCH THE ROYAL RUMBLE THIS YEAR, MISTA' MARSEGLIA! 'CAUSE FROM THE MOMENT THAT I STEP FOOT IN THAT THERE RING, TO THE MOMENT THAT THE BELL TOLLS ONE FINAL TIME, I AM GOIN' TO TAKE WHAT YA' DID TO THOSE TWENTY NINE OTHER FOLK BACK THOSE FOUR YEARS AGO AN' MAKE IT LOOK LIKE NOTHIN' MORE THAN A FAIRY TALE! I AM GOIN' TO RAIN DOWN THE FIRES O' HELL ONTO EACH AN' EVERY ONE O' THOSE POOR, UNFORTUNATE SOULS, AN' WHEN THE TIME COMES, I WILL TAKE THE MASK O' OUR WORLD CHAMPION AN' MOUNT IT ABOVE MY THRONE AS A TROPHY, AN' A REMINDER TO ANYONE AN' EVERYONE IN THE WHOLE GOSH DARN U-DUBYA-EFF! BECAUSE I AM THE NEW KING O' THIS CASTLE! I AM THE NEW LORD AN' SAVIOR O' THE U-DUBYA-EFF! AN' I..."
Suddenly, Lee stops his fervent preaching to the camera, handing it back at he cackles once more, all the while his manic expression slowly dies down to simply being one of euphoria.
Trevor Lee: "I...am your new worst nightmare...I'll get inside each an' every one o' your heads...I'll be the last thing that ya' see before it all ends...an' don't worry folks...don't be scared...after all..."
The euphoric visage of Trevor Lee suddenly slips away, as a stern gaze crosses his face instead, a scowl forming just as sudden as the change in mood for the TV champion.
Trevor Lee: "I'm not goin' anywhere."
With Kayla presumably having either fled the scene by this point or been stunned into silence, it is up to the cameraman to close things off, as the scene lingers on Lee's face before heading elsewhere...
Chimel: The following contest is a non-title match and is your Main Event of the evening!
"Better Than You" begins to play and there is a tidal wave of boos from the fans. After a few moments MJF begins to swagger out of the entrance way. Following behind him is Sir William Regal. MJF laughs at the fans who are trying to get under his skin as he walks towards the ring.
Chimel: Introducing first, making his way to the ring accompanied by Sir William Regal. Weighing in at 216 pounds from Plainview New York. He says he is better than you and you know it Maxwell Jacob Friedman, M...J...F!!!!
The fans erupt even louder and MJF doesn't pay them any mind. He walks into the ring and Regal opens the ropes for him. He stands in the middle of the ring flexing a bit and smirking as his music fades.
GIVE ME A SHELL YEAH!
The raw guitar driven sound of Accept's 'Fast as a Shark' hits the PA system and the crowd begin to go wild. Shark Boy marches out onto the stage full of piss and vinegar, he's mouthing off at anyone and everyone, he has the UWF Championship belt firmly in his grasp as he does so. Shark Boy wastes no time storming down to ringside his eyes fixed on the task in hand his head bobbing side to side as he jaw jacks on his way to ringside as waves of fans reach out to their favourite masked man.
Chimel: And his opponent, from the Deep Blue Sea, weighing in at 205 pounds... he is the UWF Champion....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, the belt also flung 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.
Tony heads out of the ring and after ensuring both competitors are good to go, the Referee calls for the bell.
VS
DING DING
The second the bell rings, the Bass-Whooper marches straight across the ring towards his opponent. MJF puts his hands up, but not to grapple. Nah, he's trying to ward the Champ off, begging him to settle down. But despite the pleas to start this off like gentlemen, or to talk things through, there's just no reasoning with a bloodthirsty apex predator.
Once Shark Boy gets within range, Max takes a swing at him. Maybe more of a swat. But who's counting? It doesn't matter anyway cause SB just walks straight through that like a Chinese tank through a line of student protestors. He grabs Friedman in a clinch, feeds him an uppercut with a helping of knee to the gut and has the upstart stunned with a two-piece.
Ranallo: MJF has racked up an exceedingly impressive winning streak since coming to Revolution a few weeks ago, but he's swimming with the big fish in the deep end now.
Phillips: Yes, he's certainly made a splash since his debut. I wouldn't say this is a sink or swim moment for him, per se, but tonight we'll find out if his claim to greatness is more of a red herring, and if he's out of his depth with -
Graves: For the love of all that is holy, would you two idiots cut it out?
Shark Boy grabs the blue chipper by the scruff of the neck and proceeds to march him around the ring in that oldschool southern sorta way, touring the perimeter and stopping to see the sites at each corner, where he generously bashes MJF's face into the buckle every time. By the third impact, Max is seeing stars, and once they round back to home, the kid is damn near out on his feet.
So groggy be he, in fact, that he puts up zero resistance when Shark Boy whips him across the ring. Friedman rebounds off the far ropes mechanically and stumbles back like a zombie. The UWF Champ meets him in the middle, dipping down then popping up to toss the new guy sky high with a Biiiiiiiiiiiiig Back Body Drop!
MJF fully rotates in the air before slamming down into the mat with a clumsy thud. "OOOOOH" says the fans cause that looks it smarts. Max sits up, groaning in paid, eyes winced shut. SB offers no recourse, however, and hits the same ropes Max just did to build up some speed before connecting with a low drop kick to the back of his foe. The New Yorker is rocketed forward but Sharky Boy quickly crawls over to put him back down as he tries for a pin...
1...
MJF has the gumption to kick out right before the second count. He's still in this thing despite the rough start.
Phillips: Shark Boy is absolutely taking it to Maxwell Jacob Friedman right now.
Ranallo: I'm sure he studied up on his last few matches. He knows that if he gives MJF an inch, he'll capitalize. Friedman has gotten the better of young talent and experience veterans alike - he's a dangerous opponent and the Champ is adamant he won't be another stepping stone.
Shark Boy scrapes the other man up off that mat and immediately slaps on front headlock. He then hooks the lights, evidently looking for a suplex. He doesn't get chance to execute, however, on account of Max stymieing the toss with a dag nasty stomp on the foot. Those wrestling boots are tough, but they sure ain't steel-toed boots. The little bones in Shark Boy's foot take a crunching from the impact and he howls like a shaved walrus as he lets go of Maxwell and recoils.
The tenacious young competitor capitalizes in a flash, blasting the wounded Champ with a rolling elbow strike to the head that looks clean as heck even though this punk has probably never even watched 90's All Japan according to Ethan Page. Regardless, Shark Boy staggers back, and while he's still dazed, Max follows up by singling out a limb to work on.
Traditionally - and not to expose the business or anything - but as part of an unspoken gentleman's agreement, wrasslers would target the left (or at least the non-dominant) arm of their opponent. It was and is considered classy to do so. MJF, absolutely dog-effing villainous slimeball that he is, goes after the right fin.
Max snags the wrist, turns the arm counterclockwise and then gives an aggressive wrench downwards, torquing the tangled thang every which way but good. Tendons threaten to tear and bones creek like old floorboards as MJF does the same thing all over again, a twisted, heinous grin creeping across his no good, dirty rotten, pig-stealing face. As His Lordship watches from the apron, William Regal can't help but enjoy the show, too.
Ranallo: I think we're about to see William Regal's tutelage pay off. MJF's submission skills are going to get better by the week so long as he's training with the Villain of Blackpool.
Graves: Friedman has already run through Edge and Hogan. The guy is a generational talent, but credit where it's due, you have to believe that Regal being in his corner has been a major factor in this skyrocket of success. William's a former UWF Champ himself and he knows a thing or two about taking down legends, having effectively ended the in-ring career of Ric Flair here a few years back.
To the surprise of the booing crowd, Max actually pulls something of an impressive stunt when he throws himself back and nails the hyper-extended limb he's grasping with a Pele Kick of sorts. He uses the momentum of his turning body plus some gravity to boot the holy hannah out of the crook of Shark Boy's arm.
It's clearly effective as Shark Boy stumbles back, clutching the sport where it hit like it hurt something fierce. The Champ isn't one to show much of a poker face (or any face for that matter) but he totally felt that one. Max follows up by grabbing his foe by the waistband and cusp of the mask so he can lawn-dart him shoulder-first into on of the turnbuckles.
THUNK! That's the sound it makes. Like the depressed connection of missile to submarine leagues and leagues beneath the surface of the sea. Neither shoulder nor post move an inch when they collide. The internal damage on SB manifests as an immediate bruise that sends the squeamish in the audience reeling.
Phillips: Somewhere in the back, Tommaso Ciampa is watching and loving what he's seeing. If MJF does so lasting damage to Shark Boy en route to victory, it's going to seriously hamper the Champ's chances of retaining at the Royal Rumble.
Ranallo: I think Ciampa would prefer the honour of defeating Shark Boy at one hundred percent, but I see your point, Tom. Shark Boy is in dire straits here.
Graves: If MJF keeps this tactical assault up, Shark Boy might just have to vacate the title instead, and if that's the case, I can't think of a better contender to take his spot against the Psycho Killer than Maxwell Jacob Friedman. Forget the Rumble - it's just a formality at this point. Let's fast track this guy straight into the UWF Championship picture.
Max pulls the crumpled Champ away from the buckle and rolls him over with little resistance so he can try for his first cover of the contest. The Referee is right there to count it...
1...
2...
Nope! Shark Boy shoves him off at two. The crowd cheers for SB's resilience whil Max scowls at the mob of ignoramuses. Regal offers some scathing, softly-spoken advice from his perch. Whatever the specifics, they're lost under the din of the audience, but MJF nods and gets back to work.
It takes another elbow to the head to loosen up Shark Boy enough to get him vertical without a fight. Once they're there, Max tries to tangle up his opponent with a hammerlock, it seems, but the Champ ain't having that. The masked superstar counters with a knee to the bread basket that absolutely winds the New Yorker. From there, Shark Boy spins around and reaches back to hook the head in a three-quarters facelock so he can execute a Chummer!
Phillips: Here comes the Chummer!
Ranallo: Outta nowhere!
Except here's the thing - Sharky's fin is more effed up that Nemo's lucky one and can't grab a dang thing. It's too bruised. Too bangered. He can't get a good grip without feeling the pain and because of that, MJF is able to slip out of his reach before getting caught. Like a fish. I guess.
Max pulls himself out of his foe's hands but doesn't let the guy go far before tangling him up with some grappling of his own. It's a double underhook, and with a snappy lift and a staggering flip, he transitions that shit into a shoulder breaker on the way down, landing the C.U.N.T. member right on his bended knee! Oh snap!
Shark Boy is hurt real bad as MJF sprawls him out on the mat and shoots the half...
1...
2...
The Champ kicks out in time! Or did Max let him up? It almost looks like he made some space for SB to sit up... oh... oh wait... what's this? He totally did! He let Shark Boy put himself in position to have his arm snatched and his torso easily rolled over so that a Fujiwara could be easily applied! The kid's a technical wizard. A true student of the Regal school of Dastardly Maneuvers!
Graves: MJF has the UWF Champion locked in the Salt of the Earth!
Ranallo: They're in the center of the ring, too. Miles away from the ropes and Shark Boy is already badly injured. He might tap.
Phillips: If he doesn't, he could be risking serious damage to that arm. After years of fighting his way back to the top to become champion, it would be such a shame to see an injury put an end to his historic comeback now.
Shark Boy is writhing in pain as MJF pulls back as hard as he friggin can. He's screaming at the Champ to quit, calling him all sorts of name and just demoralizing the guy with the trash talk. But Shark Boy's been called worse. He's been chewed up and spit out before. It's not the names, but the sticks and stones that hurt. His arm is in rough shape. He can't stay here for long. But it's like Mauro said, the ropes are far away and try as the guy might to crawl towards them, he's in too much gosh dang pain to focus on that.
Regal is practically salivating as he watches from the apron. Friggin perv. He loves this stuff. You can tell. His eyes are gleaning. GLEANING. Max, meanwhile, is begging the Ref to call this thing off already, insisting its already over.
It might be, too. The crowd was trying their best to will their hero to action, but the longer he lies there getting pried apart, the quieter they get. They can see the end is near. Shark Boy isn't moving towards the ropes anymore. He's just lying there, hurting, getting closer and closer to having his arm ripped out of its socket.
The shoulder is distorted. The arm is contorted at an obscene angle. MJF pushes it further behind the back. Further. More. Harder. TOO HARD! He rocks the whole operation an inch past the threshold and in that sudden shift of balance, Shark Bo is able to roll him over, escaping the submission while securing a roll-up outta the deep blue! He throws all his weight into the pinning combination as the Referee counts it...
1...
2...
3...
DING DING
YOUR WINNER...
THE UWF CHAMPION,
SHARK BOY!
The crowd cheers, relieved and surprised beyond belief! Shark Boy immediately backs off and starts nursing his arm while MJF pops up and stares up at the Official in shock. He's swearing he felt SB tap, just like Overeem did with Stipe.
Graves: That's some highway robbery! MJF had tis thing won!
Ranallo: Almost, Corey, and he sure gave the Champ a run for his money, but Shark Boy found an opening when it mattered and made the most of it.
Regal is furious. He reaches into his pockets and slides some brass knux into his boy. MJF slips the foreign object on to his fingers and takes aim at the injured Shark Boy. Before he can take a swing, however, Grado comes dashing in like a hero from God and tackles the young stud to the mat, unloading with his plucky Scottish fury.
The fans pop big for Grado, but that hype doesn't last long before Regal comes in from behind with a steel chair and levels the Chancer. Grado rolls off as Max composes himself and gets up, wiping blood from his lip. He barks at William to give him the chair so he can take a swing of his own. Shark Boy gets up to intervene but Regal decks him with a hard right that lands double bad cause apparently he's wearing some brass knuckles off his own. This friggin guy.
Ranallo: It's quickly getting out of hand out here!
Phillips: Talk about being a sore loser!
As MJF lines up the C.U.N.T. members for some more chair shots, the boos from the crowd turn to cheers when help comes barreling down the ramp. Edge and Hogan, two of Max's previous victims, are coming to make the save! Even though they aren't holding weapons of their own, MJF and Regal get the heck out of dodge before they have to start trading blows.
The former Champ and the living legend slide into the squared circle and watch as those scumbags hightail it into the crowd. Hogan, American Hero that he is, checks on Shark Boy to make sure he's doing okay. He gets a thumbs up, but just as he's going to do the same for Grado, he notices Edge coiling up in the corner of his eye.
Turning on a dime and getting his dukes up, he shuts down a potential Spear from the Canuck before it can pop off. Edge insists he wasn't about to try anything, but Hulk is pretty certain of the otherwise.
Ranallo: Mighty decent of these two to come and lend a hand, but lets not forget, they'll be opponents in the Royal Rumble!
Phillips: Thirty men and its every man for himself. Grado included.
It isn't like Edge has any love for Shark Boy, either, but its Hogan he's got in his sites at the moment. The two of them are bickering now, jaw-jacking in the center of the ring about whether or not Hulk saw what he thinks he saw. That argument gets cut shorts when - you guessed it - OUTTA NOWHERE comes the Mad King himself!
Eddie Kingston slides into the ring and levels both of them with a lariat on either side! The crowd isn't sure what to make of that, but don't have time to think about it before the New York tough guy gets mowed down by Leyton Buzzard coming off the top rope1 When did he even get up there?
Like the Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny, good guys and bad guys are just coming out of the wood work now. Eddie Guerrero bolts down the ramp alongside the likes of Spike Dudley and Cody Rhodes. Are they there to break things up or get their own licks in? Hard to say, but whatever their intentions, it all goes to heck in a handbasket when LA Knight comes out of the crowd with a stolen audience member's chair and goes head-hunting, hoping to thin the herd ahead of the big battle royale.
He lands a clean shot to the head of his newly found rival in Spike, only to get blasted with a Big Boot from Hogan, who gets spun around into a Cross Rhodes by Cody, who gets Speared by Edge, and then the both of them get landed on by a Frog Splash from Eddie. Meanwhile, Kyle and Batista are fist-fighting their way down the ramp towards the chaos. Sami Zayn has some out to watch and laugh from the stage, but is he safe? Or is he getting a jar of teeth broken over his head by the Intercointinental Champion?
Amidst all that chaos, the titantron fires to life...
BEHOLD THE KING...
...KING NOTHING
The fans goes bonkers as Triple H steps out on to the ramp, dressed in a suit, sledgehammer in hand. He scans the bedlam and shakes his head before extending the hammer at his side. A mountain of a man follows him out from Gorilla and stanches the weapon. It's Bronson effing Steiner.
Danhausen is the closest target. He takes a gut shot from the head of the weapon and is turned into dust. Kyle and Batista stand between this horrifying newcomer and the squared circle. Steiner dispatches of them in similar fashin.
Before the behemoth can make it to the ring proper, however, security finally runs out to break things up. An army of rent-a-cops rush the scene to try and restore some order. About a dozen swarm the Steiner kid as he shakes them off one at a time. Meanwhile, they're doing everything they can to separate the brawling athletes in the squared circle but it's a hopeless endeavour. Its a scrap for the ages that shows no signs of slowing or stopping ahead of the Royal Rumble. They're still fighting tooth and nail as Revolution goes to colour bars, so horrified is the network as the unmitigated, uncontainable violence.
END OF SHOW
Credits
Buzzard vs Christian - Jye
Zayn vs Danhausen - Evolution J
Batista vs Guerrero - Sam
Shark Boy vs MJF - Fauche
Balor vs Ciampa, Cody vs Kyle - Danny