Post by Danny on May 22, 2023 18:03:32 GMT -6
And now live from the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, UWF presents...
As the logo is seen, things go live to the inside of the arena as pyrotechnics go off from the stage and the camera pans around to get a shot of the fans from all around the world gathered for Backlash! The camera pans over to the commentary team where Corey Graves, Mauro Ranallo, and Tom Phillips are standing by.
Mauro Ranallo: Hello and welcome to Backlash!
Tom Phillips: At Backlash we-
Corey Graves: No we did that last year, I'm not doing it again.
Tom Phillips: Ahh you're no fun. Luckily for all the viewers out there, there will be plenty of fun to be had as we watch some of the world greatest athletes compete to see who is the best of the best.
Mauro Ranallo:It'll be 9 matches of hard hitting action. Rivalries will be settled, Championships will be defended and history will be made. So lets not wait any longer and head down to the ring for our first match of the evening!
A sick 80s inspired beat starts to pulsate through the arena as the lights dim and lasers in all sorts of rad colors begin to dance around the stage area. We're talking magenta, cyan, purple, orange, it's lit up like a Pink Floyd show. After a few seconds of this beat building with some flourishes, you here the familiar phrase:
YOU THINK YOU KNOW ME
And after it, the beat picks up harder, and as the synth begins to belt out an instrumental version of Edge's most iconic theme, you see him, emerging from a cloud of smoke to strobe lights in the same colors as the lasers, which are now dancing around the whole arena. There's no animalistic prowling across the stage, just a smooth swagger to his stride. A smirk on his lips as he matches his stride to the vibe of the music. At ringside, he waits for the music to start to swell again and as it does, he slides into the ring. As it would kick into the second chorus (like if there were actual words) he ascends the turnbuckle and poses as the ring announcer does what he's paid to do.
Tony Chimel
Hailing from Toronto, Ontario, Canada, weighing in at 240 pounds, Edge!
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. Generico and Luchadora come out from the back and the trio walk with some swagger down the ramp.
Tony Chimel: 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.
DING DING DING
The bell rings and both men meet in the middle for a tie up. Very traditional. Despite Sami's best efforts to get Edge to react emotionally, Edge has remained cool headed and gets Zayn into a Side headlock. Zayn backs into the ropes to push Edge off of him but the Rated R Superstar keeps the hold on tight. Zayn gives him a few shots to the gut and goes to lift him up for a Back Suplex but Edge flips over and lands on his feet. He grabs Sami's head from behind and drops down into the Edge-O-Matic! Zayn quickly rolls away to the outside to regroup.
Tom Phillips: For all his talk about being the best pure wrestler, Sami Zayn is getting outclassed right now.
Corey Graves: What are you talking about, the match just started. He's just being cautious because we all know how dirty Edge can be.
Mauro Ranallo: We also know how good he can be as a multi time former World Champion.
Corey Graves: Former as in past. He's not a current day record breaking champion like our Forever Champion is.
Zayn is game planning with Luchadora and Generico while Edge just looks to the crowd as if to say "Of course he needs help". Sami gets onto the apron and Edge comes forward but he jumps right off and yells at the ref to keep Edge back and let him come in. The ref does so and Zayn slides back into the ring and tries to blindside Edge while the ref is in the way. Edge pushes the ref out of the way and grabs Sami just as he's running in and vaults him over the top ropes to the floor below. He lands with a hard thud and his proteges rush to him to check on him.
Corey Graves: Did you see that? Edge just laid his hands on the referee. That should be an automatic disqualification!
Mauro Ranallo: It looked like he saved the ref actually from Sami!
Corey Graves: Sami's is one of the best strikers in the business. He knows how to target someone without collateral damage.
Edge doesn't waste any time and exits the ring. He pushes Generico to the side but Sami blasts him in the face with a Forearm. Edge walks over to the barricade and Zayn hits him with a Clothesline to the back of the head. He grabs himand throws him back into the ring before following him in. He stalks Edge as he's getting to his feet and runs after him but Edge takes him down with a Big Boot. Zayn pops back up looking like he got his shit rocked and Edge hits him with the Edgecution! He flips him over into the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Zayn kicks out! Edge picks him up by his stupid ginger hair and brings him over to the corner. He smashes his face into the turnbuckle 10 times with the crowd chanting along. The ref lets this slide for some reason. Conspiracy! Zayn's looking like a Looney Tunes character that's seeing stars and Edge lifts him up onto the top turnbuckle. He gets underneath him and walks to the center of the ring with Zayn on his shoulders in an electric chair. Sami however comes to life and starts punching him in the head and leans back into a Poisonrana! Edge gets spiked on his head and sits up on his knees from the momentum before flopping back down to the mat.
Sami crawls over to the corner and rests a bit while Edge crawls to the opposite corner. He leans against the bottom turnbuckle and Zayn pulls himself up. He goes running over to kick Edge's face in but the Ultimate Opportunist lives up to his name by ducking and rolling Zayn into a School Boy! The ref drops down to make the count and doesn't see that Edge has got a handful of tights!
1 . . .
2 . . .
3 . . .
But Zayn gets the shoulder up just in time!
Corey Graves: Did you see that! Edge is still the same old no good cheat he's always been.
Mauro Ranallo: He's never denied doing whatever it takes to get back to the top.
Tom Phillips: You know Sami would be doing the exact same thing if he wasn't being outclassed right now.
Corey Graves: Are you listening to yourself Phillips!
He looks at the ref and tells him Edge hand a handful of tights but the ref says he didn't see it. Sami is too busy complaining that he forgets there's a match going on and Edge kicks him in the side of the head. He picks Sami up and throws him into the opposite corner. He runs after him and connects with a Helluva Kick! Sami falls flat on his face and Edge is all smiles as he makes another cover.
1 . . .
2 . . .
Zayn kicks out! Generico has seen enough and hops on the apron to yell at Edge is poorly spoken Spanish. The ref tries to get him down but while he's doing that, Luchadora slides in behind Edge and gives him a Chop Block to the back of the leg! She picks up Zayn and slaps his face a few times to get him to move before leaving the ring. Zayn sees Edge clutching his knee and walks over. He stomps down on Edge's knee and keeps his foot there but Edge still has a good upper half and socks him in the stomach to send him in retreat to the corner. Edge gets up and hobbles over to Zayn but Sami catches him with an Exploder Suplex in the corner! He goes for the pin but put his feet on the ropes for added leverage.
1 . . .
2 . .
The ref stops the count when he sees Sami's feet on the ropes. Sami tries to explain that it was his strong core that allowed him to plank in the air and it just looked like his feet were being held up by the ropes but the ref's not hearing it. Sami brushes him off and brings Edge back to his feet. Zayn wants to show him he can outwrestle him any day of the week so he puts him in the Side Headlock. He wrenches it in and looks very satisfied. Edge however reaches up and pulls on Zayn's hair. Sami breaks the hold and Edge places him in the Side Headlock! Sami ends up lifting him up and spinning him out into a Blue Thunder Bomb!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Edge kicks out! Now it's Edge who rolls out of the ring to get a quick breather. Generico and Luchadora go to each side of him and trap him but the ref warns them to keep their distance. They still inch in a little closer and Edge pulls his hand back, ready to sock one or both of them if needed. He doesn't see that Zayn comes flying out on the ring with a Somersault Senton to take him out! The Forever Champ pumps his fist in the air much to the dismay of the crowd. He throws Edge back into the ring and climbs onto the apron before ascending to the top rope. Edge is getting back up and turns around to see Zayn come off with a Diving Crossbody into the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Edge kicks out!
Mauro Ranallo: So far Edge has managed to survive the 3 on 1 attacks by Zayn and co.
Corey Graves: Excuse me? They were being good Samaritans by checking on Edge to make sure he wasn't hurt. He's the one who wanted to swing on them.
Tom Phillips: Oh please you know they were only there to trap him or attack him if the ref's back was turned. Who knows what they were even threatening Edge with.
Corey Graves: Oh what because they don't speak the same language as you and me Phillips? Wow way to show your true colors.
Sami leans next to Edge and grabs a fistful of hair and starts raining down punches to this face. The ref gets on him for this but Zayn just picks up Edge and whips him to the corner. Edge knows not to be in the corner when Zayn is in the ring with you and walks along the ropes to the middle of the ring. Sami gets annoyed and instead Clotheslines him out of the ring. The Rated R Superstar hangs on and pulls himself back up on the apron. Zayn turns around and sees him still there so he runs at him but Edge goes through the ropes and hits him with a Shoulder Block. Zayn retreats to the center of the ring falling to a knee while Edge goes to the top rope. Zayn turns around only to see Edge come off with a Missile Dropkick to the face! He makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Zayn kicks out! Edge walks over to the corner and hunches down, gearing up for a Spear. Luchadora hops on the apron to try and get his attention and it works. There's a huge pop from the crowd as suddenly Christian comes out from the back having seen more than enough.
Tom Phillips: And it looks like Edge has finally got someone out here to even the odds.
Corey Graves: More like try to steal the show. Christian couldn't get on a pay per view to save his life these days so this is the only way he can find some screen time. It's pathetic if you ask me.
Generico tries to meet Christian up the ramp but he ends up getting Speared for his troubles! Luchadora doesn't realize that Christian is there and he takes her legs and yanks them off making her fall to the floor and smash her face into the apron on the way down! She tries to fight back but Christian nails her in the face and she retreats over to the ramp where Generico is. She helps him up and together they go to attack Christian who is hot on their heels. They 3 of them brawl up the ramp as Edge turns his attention back to Zayn who is getting up. Edge moves in for the Spear but Sami clocks him with a knee to the face! Edge stumbles back into the corner and Zayn comes running in with a Helluva Kick! He throws Edge down to the mat and makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Edge gets his foot on the bottom rope! Zayn yells at the ref and asks why he stopped counting. Edge rolls out onto the apron but Zayn isn't going to let him get away. He leans over the ropes and pulls him back up but Edge hangs him on the top rope! Zayn walks away holding his throat but comes running right back only for Edge to stick his boot between the ropes and kick him in the face! The former UWF Champion comes back into the ring and walks towards Zayn. He goes to strike him but Zayn ducks and gets him in a Half and Half Suplex! Edge tries to get back to his feet but stumbles to the corner. Zayn moves in for a second Helluva Kick but Edge ducks and turns, picking Zayn up onto his shoulders and walking to the center of the ring. Zayn tries to fight back again with punches to the head but Edge brings him down into the Sit-Out Electric Chair Facebuster! He makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Zayn kicks out! Edge sighs but he wants to stay on the attack. He grabs Sami and brings him back to a vertical base but Zayn shoves him as hard as he can and Edge falls back into the ref, accidentally elbowing him in the face! The ref goes down and Edge looks down at him and gets an idea. He smiles and exits out of the ring. He fiddles under there for a bit before coming back up with two steel chairs!
Mauro Ranallo: And it looks like Edge is thinking about putting Sami Zayn down for good.
Corey Graves: That good for nothing cheat! He wanted to take out the referee just for this!
Edge slides one chair into the ring and climbs in with the other one. He grabs Zayn and places him face down on the chair. He raises up the chair for the One Man Con-Chair-To but Will Ospreay springboards in with an OsCutter! The fans are livid and he slides the chairs out of the ring and picks up Zayn, placing him on top of Edge. He then picks up the ref and places him near the two so he can see the count before exiting the ring. The ref is still dazed but he slowly makes the count.
1 . . .
2 . . .
Edge gets the shoulder up at 2.9! Ospreay shakes his head while the crowd is going crazy. Both Edge and Zayn end up rolling to different corners. They look over at each other and once their eyes, meet they each glare and pull themselves up with the ropes. They walk to the center of the ring and start hockey fighting. The crowd pops for the two Canadians engaging in a brawl and much to their approval, Edge ends up coming out on top, backing Zayn into the ropes. The Forever Champion pushes him away and tries to run back at him but Edge clocks him with a Headbutt! He then grabs his arms and slowly turns out into a Killswitch! He turns Zayn over for the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
3 . . .
But the ref gets pulled out of the ring just before the last count! Ospreay puts his hand up like he didn't do anything but the ref yells at him. He turns away and walks off telling the people in the corner of the ring to piss off. He's aruging with them but Edge slips out of the ring and comes charging at him, Ospreay doesn't even notice it until he turns around and he's Speared through the barricade!
Mauro Ranallo: Mama Mia! Edge just tore through Ospreay like he was a present on Christmas morning!
Corey Graves: What did Young Willy ever do to deserve this!?
Edge looks satisfied with his work and that just finally leaves him and Zayn alone. He comes back into the ring and sees Sami is still down. He walks over and bends down to grab him when Zayn catching him in an Inside Cradle!
1 . . .
2 . . .
3 . . .
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Sami Zayn!
Edge looks shocked and Sami high tails it out of the ring. He's got a massive smile on his face and he quickly rushes up the ramp. Ospreay is being tended to on the outside and Zayn looks over to see him but quickly turns away and heads to the back celebrating. Edge tries to tell the ref about everything but there's nothing he can do as the show moves on.
The titantron switches from the UWF Backlash graphic to a live feed from backstage where Renee Young is standing by.
Young: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guest at this time, Kyle O'Reilly and... uh... well... just Kyle O'Reilly!
The Diabetic Dragon walks into the shot, Hollywood Championship strapped around his waist. He's looking all revved up and ready to go ahead of his match with Will Ospreay.
Young: Thanks for joining me, Kyle. I saw Bayley was scheduled for this interview to. Will she be -
KO'R: We actually drove separate tonight but she'll be here. It all good, we can start.
Young: Right. Okay. Well, tonight you'll tangle with Will Ospreay for the first time ever. Its an exciting match-up, but admittedly one that wasn't really on anyone's radar a month ago. Now you two are at each other's throats. How did things escalate so quickly?
The Human Swiss Army Knife cracks his neck from side to side as he answers.
KO'R: Renee, where I grew up on the mean streets of Burnaby... Vancouver... British Columbia... Canada... there was only one law of the jungle. Talk "S", get messed. Will Ospreay is the kinda guy who runs his mouth all day and all night long. That's why he's in such good shape probably.
If he wants to hang out with that terrible idiot Sami Zayn and do his evil bidding, fine. Whatever. I don't even care. But you wanna talk crap about my pals and sneak attack Edge and Christian? That's going too far. I'm nWo for life, Renee. And the other law of the jungle from the mean streets of Burnaby -
Young: - I thought you said there was only one -
KO'R: - is that you stay true to your friends forever. Ride or die. Just like the Fast and Furious franchise.
Young: Didn't Edge Spear you at the Royal Rumble?
KO'R: I doubt it. I was still kinda dizzy from wrestling the heck out of Batista earlier that night - which is actually probably why I lost the Rumble in the first place. Maybe Edge just tried to hug me and I slipped, I dunno. Its all fuzzy.
Young: The footage is on the UWF Network. You could always go back and check.
KO'R: Yeah, I tried to rewatch it already to study footage but it always crashes my computer.
Young: Interesting. But back to Ospreay - he took things to the next level in attacking you during your main event match with Spike Dudley on Revolution. Bayley tried to do the same thing to him when he clashed with Shark Boy the following week and -
KO'R: I told her not to do that. I totally told her that was a bad idea.
Young: It kinda backfired and blew up in her face. Have you two spoken about it since?
KO'R: Yeah, of course...
Kyle scratches at his ear and scuffs his boot on the floor and then shrugs.
KO'R: Well, I mean, no. Not really. But whatever. It doesn't matter. Who cares? We're cool. Everything's fine. Like, just because your step-sister never listens to anything you say and keeps messing stuff up and sorta cost you your Prime Time Medal in the biggest match of your entire life on the the hugest show of the year against your arch-nemesis who you swore to defeat doesn't mean that you can't still be cool. That kinda thing happens to be all the time.
Young: Does it?
KO'R: Doesn't it?
A short awkward silence. Kyle's ADHD comes with a pressure of speech so he fills in the blank.
KO'R: It's just... like... you know how someone saw you smoking and now all anyone talks about is how you smoke?
Young: Oh yeah. Love that.
KO'R: Well I got this new step-sister I didn't even ask for six months ago, right when I was just breaking out on my own and now Bayley is all anyone wants to talk about. That's so weird, right?
Young: Have you talked to Bayley about how that makes you feel?
KO'R: Pfft. No. Feelings are gay, Renee.
Young: ... But you're gay, Kyle.
KO'R: Its different. You know what I mean. Look... I can't get into right now. I don't have time to be sensitive and stuff cause I gotta go out to that ring and fight a guy that's called the Assassin and if I don't beat him everyone in the whole world is gonna think I suck. And I don't suck. I'm actually pretty good. And if I beat this loser up super bad, then they'll remember it and then I can go win the King of the Ring and everything will be fine again and we can just go back to the way things were before the effing nosedive that was Wrestlemania.
Young: Well I'm happy to hear you're setting goals for yourself and striving to achieve them. Good luck with that and with your match tonight, Kyle.
KO'R: Thanks Renee. And hey, all this is just between us, right?
Renee side-eyes the camera that's been filming the interview.
Young: Ummmm... I mean...
KO'R: Great. See ya later. I gotta go beat up this preppy British dork.
The Hollywood Champ heads off and Backlash rolls on!
Tony Chimel: THE FOLLOWING CONTEST IS SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL. INTRODUCING FIRST….
As the sound of metal clashing echoes around the building, “Wish It Away” by Psycho Dalek starts to play and out from behind the curtain steps Drew McIntyre, ready to get down to business. The Scotsman slowly walks towards the top of the ramp and takes a moment to stop and look at the ground, before throwing his head back and beginning his walk towards the ring.
Tony Chimel: From Ayr, Scotland. Weighing in at 265 pounds. He is The Destroyer, Drew McIntyre!
As the self-proclaimed Destroyer reaches the end of the ramp, he makes a turn towards the steel ring steps and takes another pause before smacking the top of them with his open right hand, not once, but twice, before climbing them and entering the ring through the middle rope. Once inside, McIntyre heads for the opposite turnbuckle and climbs to the top rope in order to perch and observe his outer surroundings for a moment before dropping back down and unclipping his ring coat in order to prepare himself for the upcoming contest.
Tony Chimel: And his opponent…..
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
The bell would ring and Eddie and Drew would meet in the middle of the ring, Drew towering over his opponent. As if to signify this, Eddie would take his hand and from his forehead measure the height difference between him and Drew. Drew would smirk and offer Eddie a lock up. Eddie would look like he’s going for it but instead slap Drew right in the face, the Scottish Psychopath would touch the part of his face that was smacked and begin laughing, slightly putting off Eddie who would look to Eve on the outside who would shrug. This would be a fatal mistake. Drew used the momentary distraction to slug Eddie with a right hand and drop him. Drew would then pick Eddie up in a front carry and hit him with a Fallaway Slam.
Mauro Ranallo: Well Gentlemen, I think Eddie Guerrero is regretting slapping Drew McIntyre now…
Tom Phillips: What was mostly likely an attempt to put Drew off has only lead to pain for Latino Heat and Drew seems happy to deliver.
Corey Graves: You love to see it don’t you guys, an athlete like Drew McIntyre taking it to that punk Guerrero, about time if you ask me,
Drew would pick Eddie up and deliver an ear shattering chop to Guerreros chest, Eddie once again dropping but Drew would keep hold of Eddie's arm, not letting him go. Drew would then Irish whip Eddie into the rope and grab him for an Overhead Belly to Belly but Eddie would get a finger in the eye of Drew, causing McIntyre to let go and check his eye. The referee would go to check but before he could, Eddie would hit a Dropkick on Drew, sending him over the top rope and to the outside. Eddie would run off the ropes and hit a Sucide Dive to Drew, sending McIntyre into the barricade and then throwing him back in, hitting a Slingshot Splash and cover.
Mauro Ranallo: Guerrero like a house on fire, taking down McIntyre and going for a cover here.
Tom Phillips: You have to wonder if Eddie was playing possum earlier, trying to get under Drews skin
Corey Graves: Oh yeah he did a great job of that while getting ragdolled like a crash test dummy
1…..Kick Out.
Drew would get a shoulder up and power out. Eddie would not let up the pace, picking Drew up into a seated position, he would charge with a forearm and knock Drew with the forearm but Drew would not go down. Eddie would run off the ropes with the forearm this time and once again Drew would not go down, motioning Eddie for another one. One more time, Eddie would go for a forearm but this time Drew would drop down and then to the shock of the crowd and Eddie, kip up, using Eddies momentum Drew would hit him with a ring shaking Over the Head Belly to Belly Suplex into the corner, Eddie landing in a seated position. Drew would charge and hit a Big Boot to his seated opponent and go for a cover, planting a foot on Eddie’s chest.
Mauro Ranallo: ITS ON LIKE DONKEY KONG, DREW DELIVERING THAT HELLACIOUS BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX TO EDDIE AND THEN HITTING THAT SKULL SHATTERING BIG BOOT. SOMEONE GET THE POLICE TO THE BARCLAYS CENTRE BECAUSE WE’VE JUST SEEN A MURDER.
Tom Phillips: Eddie seems completely out of it but we’ve seen him come back from worse in the past.
Corey Graves: Oh please Phillips, go on about how this is all a master plan by Eddie to catch Drew off guard.
1….2….2.5…….Drew moves his foot.
Deciding Eddie had not had enough, McIntyre removes his foot from Guerreros chest and picks him up, getting Eddie into a position for a Powerbomb, lifting the limp Guerrero like a sack of potatoes and then marches around the ring with Eddie up on his shoulders. This display of power ends up costing Drew as Eddie rolls Drew through into a roll up but Drew kicks out almost immediately. Drew gets to his feet and swings wildly, Eddie picks Drew up and hits a Brainbuster onto the Scottish Psychopath and then slowly but surely climbs to the top rop, scoping out the downed McIntyre. Eddie does his signature taunt and goes for the Frog Splash.
Mauro Ranallo: GUERRERO TAKING DOWN MCINTYRE WITH A BRAINBUSTER AND HERE WE GO FROG SPLASH TIME.
Tom Phillips: Once again Eddie Guerrero is going to Lie, Cheat and Steal his way to a win here and the crowd is loving it
Corey Graves: Phillips I swear if you try to retroactively say this was his plan all along…
Eddie goes for the splash and connects….. with the mat as Drew rolls out the way just before Eddie can land on him. Guerrero grabs his ribs as he gets to his feet and walks straight into a Headbutt from Drew, the noise echoing through the arena. Eddie stumbles to the ropes and bounces off into a Claymore from McIntyre. Drew stands over Eddie and puts a foot on his chest as the referee goes for the pin.
1….2……3
Tony Chimel: YOUR WINNER OF THIS BOUT….. DREW MCINTYRE.
As the referee lifts McIntyre’s arm in victory, Drew rips it away and looks down at his opponent. Shaking his head he would climb out the ring and make his way up the ramp. The medics would rush past him and Drew would disappear behind the curtain.
Mauro Ranallo: Well what a victory here for Drew McIntyre, in control for almost the whole match and to be honest gentlemen, not really ever in trouble.
Tom Phillips: Well I hate to admit it but maybe Eddie didn’t have a secret plan here tonight and its another L for Latino Heat
Corey Graves: See I told you Phillips, Eddie should focus on his wedding and not in the ring because then he wouldn’t have gotten this beating.
The camera would focus on Guerrero momentarily before we moved on for more Backlash.
The titantron would cut to Samoa Joe standing backstage taping up his wrists; he would have his back turned to the camera, focused on the upcoming match. He would turn and face the camera after a few seconds, clearing his throat he would begin to talk.
Samoa Joe: You know when Spike Dudley stepped to me all those weeks ago, I expected him to keep running his mouth and never actually coming to face me. He would hide behind the camera and talk a big game but when the time came, just like everyone else who thinks they want a piece of this Samoan pie, he would back down from it but not Spike, he said “Nah give me a piece of that”.
I respect you for that Spike, you had an issue with the way I conducted my business and you decided to come find me and face me man to man for it and I just wanted to get that out the way before what happened tonight because tonight, you’re going to get a first hand experience of how I conduct my business and i’m sure once i’m finished, the people who you say you’re standing up for will all come visit you. Hell you’ll end up in the same hospital as them so it won’t even be a long walk.
A sick smirk would cross Joe’s face.
Samoa Joe: I understand what people think of me. They think I'm a bully, a savage, a monster and you know what: they’re right. I make no qualms with who I am Spike. Unlike Trevor Lee, Leyton Buzzard, Sami Zayn. I don’t hide behind this facade of “standing up for the little guy” as an excuse to be an absolute prick to people. I’m a bad bad man Spike and I will always be. Nothing more, nothing less.
I don’t hide from who I am and why should I? Being me has got me a lot of success in an industry that I love and trust me I do love this industry. I don’t just say that to get a cheap pop out of these merch wearing schmucks out in the crowd but if this industry was full of just nice guys like you Spike, it’d be boring. You need guys like me, happy to get their hands dirty, for things to succeed and tonight Spike, I lay that claim out in front of you and i’m going to prove it. Because for all your claims of success and fortitude you’re still just one thing: The Runt of the Litter. See you out there Spike.
With that Joe would go back to preparing as the camera faded.
"Knight Vision" begins to play throughout the arena and the capacity begins to groan because they know what time it is. It is time to titillate their juices with the arrival of the "Thursday Night Thriller". This is the "Million Dollar Megastar". This is LA Knight. Knight does not take long bursting through the curtain and out onto the stage. The reception he receives isn't warm whatsoever but LA Knight does not care. He soaks in the atmosphere while the jeers rain down on him.
Tony Chimel: Ladies and Gentlemen, coming to the ring, from Baltimore, Maryland, weighing in at 230 pounds, he is the "Million Dollar Megastar", L...A....Knight!
As Chimel announces the brash star from Baltimore, Knight spells his name out in the air just to make sure that everyone knows exactly who he is.
Knight continues down the ramp towards the ring. The entire time he talks trash to all the people in the front row. He's not here for them; he's here for himself. As he reaches the end of the aisleway, he heads towards the hard camera before leaping onto the ring apron and posing for everyone to see him. There is no shortage in confidence in Knight tonight, as he enters the ring, climbs the nearest turnbuckle and throws up the "LA" hand sign.
Knight leaps off the top rope to the canvas and continues to prepare for the upcoming match he has.
As the riff kicks in to Jefferson Starship's "Jane," the man known only as "Freshly Squeezed" Orange Cassidy emerges from the back to an uproarious pop from the crowd. Sporting his aviators and his magnificently coiffed hair, Cassidy walks coolly down to the ring, hands in his pockets. He doesn't seem to be in a hurry, and as he reaches the end of the ramp, he pauses to offer a weak fist bump to a fan holding a thumb's up out over the barricade.
Tony Chimel: From... wherever... and weighing in at... whatever... he is "Freshly Squeezed," Orange CASSIDY!
Cassidy then heads up the ring steps lazily and eases himself between top and middle ropes, before moving to the middle of the ring and throwing up a half-enthusiastic thumbs up to a pop from the crowd. OC heads to the corner and lounges there as he removes his aviators and awaits the beginning of the contest.
DING DING DING
LA Knight leans against the ropes in the corner much like Orange Cassidy usually might but the Prime Time Medalist calmly walks to the center of the ring. He lifts his hands in the air and brings them down into his pockets. Knight looks around like he couldn't really care less. He then takes off running to Clothesline Cassidy but Orange ducks it hits the ropes. He comes off them with a Dropkick and then kips up to his feet. He He gives the camera a shitty thumbs up but the crowd loves it. Knight sneaks up behind him and gives him a Chop Block to the back of the knee! Orange rolls around on the mat holding his knee but Knight grabs his leg and drops an elbow to the inside of the leg!
Corey Graves: There you go! That Orange Juice isn't going to do you much good when you can't even walk!
Mauro Ranallo: It's a smart tactic by LA Knight who has maybe learned after their last encounter.
Orange manages to slip his foot away and rolls out of the ring. He hobbles away as best he can but Knight gives chase, grabbing him from behind and throwing him into the barricade! He picks him back up right away and tosses him into the ring, knowing he can't win the medal back on a count out. Cassidy is trying to get to his feet so LA comes up from behind and delivers a Backstabber! He makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Cassidy kicks out! Knight picks him up right away and goes to lift him over his shoulder to end this already. Cassidy kicks his feet and flips over into a Sunset Flip. He very slowly and weakly tries to flip Knight over onto his back but it's clear that's not going to happen. He pretends to jump up for a Knee Drop like their last match but he's tricked Orange who rolls out of the way and instead Knight hits him with the Knee Lift as he's getting to his feet. He turns to complete the Blunt Force Trauma but Cassidy gets his back and goes for a Backslide but once again Knight has this scouted from their last encounter and instead lifts Orange up into a Gory Bomb of sorts! He makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Cassidy kicks out!
Mauro Ranallo: It looks like LA Knight has really decided to take this match seriously this time.
Corey Graves: He's got two fluke victories over the best wrestlers in this company. Knight's just taking some extra precaution.
Knight brings Cassidy up once more and goes to get him in position for the Gravy Train but Cassidy ends up throwing his weight down and nailing him with a DDT! Cassidy rolls over to his corner where he grabs that freshly squeezed OJ and takes a swig. His leg isn't healed but he's feeling better. Knight gets up and sees Orange put down the drink and he runs over and Clothesline him in the corner. He's not about to let this dude power up and he gives him multiple Clotheslines in the corner. He takes off to the opposite end but Cassidy tails it right after him and Dropkicks him right when he hits the corner! Orange then pulls him out and hits the Blue Thunder Bomb into the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Knight kicks out!
Tom Phillips: It looks like it took Knight everything to kick out right there.
Corey Graves: What are you talking about? He did that with the greatest of ease. OC couldn't beat Knight in their first encounter, what makes you think he can do it this time?
Cassidy brings Knight up to his feet but LA gives him some shots to the midsection followed by a kick to the knee! He then grabs him and hits the Impaler DDT! With Orange down, he goes out onto the apron and climbs to the top rope. He's about to drop an elbow down from the heavens and comes off buy Orange just casually rolls out of the way! Knight comes up holding his elbow. Cassidy gets to his feet but Knight isn't going to give him time to recover. He runs at him with a clothesline but Cassidy ducks it and when Knight turns around, he eats a Superman Punch! He falls to a knee and Cassidy places him in the Mouse Trap!
1 . . .
2 . . .
3 . . .
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, and STILL the holder of the Prime Time Medal, Orange Cassidy!
Knight rolls to the outside and looks shocked. Cassidy is handed his medal and he just casually holds it out. He doesn't celebrate, simply puts on his shades and gives his best thumbs up before leaving as the show moves on.
The scene opens up to Cody Rhodes and Randy Orton having a conversation backstage before Finn Balor and JBL’s Television Championship Match. The cameraman doesn’t get seen but you could just barely hear the conversation of Orton and Cody
Orton: I mean I get it but how long are we going to be riding these guys coattails Cody? First they were our rivals you even called me here for back up only to turn around kiss these guys ass and be on their side. I’m not getting the agenda here. What's to gain out of all this?
Damian Priest and Mafia Dom happen to be lurking around the corner listening to the conversation by Cody and Randy as Cody just stands there as Orton speaks.
Orton:When are we going to attack, when are you finally gonna get your payback Cody? You can’t just forget everything these guys did to you over the past couple of months Cody. They even abducted your wife and you’re okay with that?
Cody: It’s not like that, Orton, everything isn’t always payback. Sometimes karma just comes back to bite people in the ass. So why don’t you just sit back and trust me and watch as everything turns full circle. Let’s get in position, they’re going on soon.
Mafia Dom quickly turns to Damian Priest in shock as the two run off to inform Finn Balor. By the time they had reached Finn Balor was being called to go to the ring.
Mafia Dom
Boss wait! Cody and Orton are planning something!
Dom barely got the attention of Balor as Balor turned around and quickly replied
Finn Balor
I don’t wanna hear it right now Dom!
Finn Balor
You two find those two bozos and figure out what’s going on, don’t be afraid to end em if they plan on ruining my Television Championship match.
Finn Balor turns around and walks through the curtain for his title defense.
DING DING!
Tony Chimel: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
As the Godzilla trumpets play, the Samoan Submission machine makes his entrance, towel round his neck he strides confidently down to the ring as the crowd erupts into a chorus of boos at his mere prescence
Tony Chimel: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at 260lbs, from Orange County, The Samoan Submission Machine, Samoa Joe
As Joe makes it to the ring, he rolls in and stands up, in one fluid motion he throws the towel to the outside as he lifts his signature finger taunt, making his way to the corner he leans back and cracks his neck, waiting for his next victim.
Tony Chimel: And the opponent…
The crowd are quiet, waiting for something to happen but the silence doesn't last long as fireworks shoot from the ceiling down onto the stage as a familiar theme song plays out of the PA System.
LET ME SEE YOU PUT EM UP,
REACH THE SKY, TOUCH THE STARS UP ABOVE
CAUSE IT'S ONE TIME FOR THE UNDERDOG
The crowd rise to their feet as they await for the appearance of the Runt of the Family. The crowd raise the noise levels as Spike Dudley emerges from the curtain. Spike is looking all business tonight, looking ready to go.
Spike pounds his chest, looking out into the crowd as he begins his way down the ramp. The fans are begging for high fives and he obliges, touching the free hands with all the fans at ringside as he comes to end of the ramp. He takes a running start, sliding into the ring before climbing the turnbuckles, beating his chest and looking out into the sea of adoring fans.
Tony Chimel: From Dudleyville, weighing in at 145 pounds, SPIKE DUDLEY
Spike steps down from the turnbuckle and comes back to the center of the ring, grabbing his wrists and rolling them in his hands as he looks set.
DING DING!
As the ring bell sounds, Spike immediately goes on the offensive as he starts peppering Joe with punches to the face, Joe blinking with each one but the punches not really registering beyond that. Joe shoves Spike in the chest with both hands now as Spike staggers back a few steps as Joe now goes to take his head off with a Clothesline but Spike ducks and goes behind Joe putting his head between his legs and actually trying to get the big man up for an Electric Chair Drop but the strain is too much as Spike falls to his hands and knees, forced to take a breather as Joe turns around to face him with a smirk, then brings his knee up the same time he brings his elbow down, catching Spike’s head in the middle as Spike is now lying completely flat on his face, Joe rolling him over with his foot before connecting with a Body Senton, then pivoting after impact and connecting with a Body Senton from the opposite direction.
As Spike lies there writhing in pain, Joe grabs him and guides him back to a vertical base as Dudley explodes free of his opponent’s grip and starts peppering him with punches again but like before, they don’t seem to be doing much damage. Spike sees this and winds back extra hard as he looks to put all the force he can behind it but as he throws the punch, Joe smacks his arm aside and delivers a Headbutt. Spike takes a step back then staggers from side-to-side for a moment before staggering forward into the waiting arms of the, “Samoan Submission Machine” as Joe scoops him up and holds him horizontally before curling Spike upward and then driving him into the mat with a World’s Strongest Slam. Joe keeps hold of Dudley after impact and stands back up, throwing Spike up onto his shoulders as he immediately falls back and connects with a Samoan Drop. Joe gets up and walks over to Spike, bringing him forcefully back to his feet as he starts unloading with blows to various parts of the upper body of his opponent.
Spike then grabs both sides of Joe’s head and rears back before rocking forward and connecting with a Headbutt. As Joe is dazed, Spike connects with a Standing Dropkick as Joe staggers back into the ropes, Spike running at him and connecting with a Cross Body. Joe tumbles through the ropes backwards and crashes and burns on the outside floor as Spike takes a nasty spill as well. As both men get up, they start trading punches, Joe grabbing Spike’s fist as he goes to throw another one and performing an Irish Whip into the ring post as Spike hits hard and falls to the ground. Joe stalks his opponent and grabs him, bringing him to his feet before rolling him into the ring and following closely after. Spike gets to his feet as Joe goes for another Headbutt but Spike sidesteps it and simultaneously delivers a knee to the solar plexus as he’s able to hook the arms of Joe and delivers a Double Arm DDT.
As Joe is dazed and looking up at the lights, Dudley climbs into the mount and starts delivering repeated rights. After several connect, Spike gets up and delivers a stomp to Joe before leaning down and pulling Joe up to a seated position as Joe delivers a low aimed punch and then returns to his feet. Joe remains on the offensive as he connects with a Headbutt as Spike falls to a seated position, visibly dizzy, as he touches his hand to his forehead and then looks at his hand. Upon seeing that Joe has drawn blood, Spike, being the ECW Original that he is, smiles as he puts his hands down at his sides and pushes up so that he can climb back to his feet. As he returns to a vertical base, Joe goozles him with both hands and lifts him upward, holding him there as Spike tries to pry Joe’s hands free and his legs and feet are desperately kicking at the air.
Tom Phillips: Joe’s choking the life out of him!
Mauro Ranallo: Spike doing his best to get free but unfortunately to no avail!
Corey Graves: We haven’t seen the last of the fight in the dog just yet I don’t think.
Joe now propels himself quickly forward and tosses Spike, connecting with a form of Buckle Bomb as Spike hits the corner and then comes staggering towards his opponent, Joe scooping him up and planting him with a Sidewalk Slam. As Spike’s body contorts upward from the impact, he holds his lower back as Joe stomps him back to lying flat, then drops an elbow directly into the heart of the littlest Dudley. Spike sits up holding his chest as Joe grabs two fistfuls of hair on the sides of Spike’s head, delivering another Headbutt to the top of the head before forcefully pulling Spike to a vertical base, releasing the fistfuls of hair and following up with a kick to the abdomen, the UWF’s Uncle hunching over as Joe scoops him up in a Gutwrench and plants him hard against the mat, folding Spike up as he goes for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
NO! Spike gets the shoulder up!
Joe creates some distance but not much because as Spike rolls over to start getting to a vertical base, Joe charges and clobbers him in the back of the head with a stiff forearm, knocking Spike back down to the mat. Joe walks over to Spike, stomping between the shoulder blades, causing him to convulse upward as Joe now traps the arms of his opponent and applies a Camel Clutch sitting on the back of Dudley and wrenching back on the face and jaw.
As Joe wrenches and leans back as far as he can, he suddenly lets go as Spike resembles a rubber band snapping back as he hits the mat, Joe rising up out of the seated position on his back before dropping a knee to the kidneys, standing up again and creating some distance. Spike puts his hands down and gets up to his knees as he starts back to his feet, Joe allowing him to get there before bringing his arms and fists together and charging, swinging the joined arms and fists like he’s got a baseball bat to the back of Spike’s head as Spike goes stumbling into one of the downstage corners, Joe not far behind as he connects with a Body Splash in the corner. Spike is sprawled out in the corner, dead on his feet as Joe grabs him around the waist and launches out of the corner with a Bridging German Suplex as Spike is again folded up and the pin is attempted.
ONE!
TWO!
NO! Spike kicks out!
As Spike and Joe each get to their feet, Joe delivers a chop to the throat, then hooks the head of Dudley under his arm and launches back with a quick Snap Suplex. Spike sits up after impact and starts to his feet once more but Joe kicks him in the back of the head, then delivers a stomp as Spike’s head rocks forward from it, causing Dudley’s forehead to touch the mat before he again resembles a rubber band snapping back as he finds himself looking up at the lights. Joe smirks at his downed opponent writhing in pain before reaching down and grabbing Spike by the hair, pulling him back to his feet and pulling him in as he applies a Bearhug lifting Dudley off the mat and squeezing the life out of him.
After a moment of rag dolling Spike in the hold, Joe sets him back on his feet and lets go before going for a forearm to the face but Spike ducks and drives his head into the solar plexus of Joe as hard as he can, visibly knocking the wind out of the big man as he hunches over. Spike places Joe’s head between his legs now and then connects with a move no one is expecting him to bust out, a Canadian Destroyer!
Tom Phillips: Oh my!
Mauro Ranallo: Mamma Mia! Have we ever seen a smaller guy like Spike bust out a maneuver like that on a bigger opponent like Samoa Joe?
Corey Graves: This may be the tide changer Spike needs, he just needs to stay on Joe!
As Joe lies there on the mat, Spike isn’t convinced he’s dealt the killing blow as he heads to the top rope. Spike leaps off quickly, connecting with the Dudley Stomp as the fans pop again. Spike goes for the cover now.
ONE!
TWO!
NO! Joe kicks out!
As Spike gets up and creates some distance, he waits on Joe to get up and charges him, going for a Running Battering Ram but Joe sidesteps and slips behind him as he grabs him and applies the Coquina Clutch, bringing Spike to the mat as he cinches it in tight. The man affectionately referred to as Brother Runt begins to quickly fade as the referee comes over to check on him. Spike appears to be out cold but before the official can call it, Joe lets go and stops him. As the match continues, Joe grabs Spike and brings him from the mat all the way up into position for the Muscle Buster as he then connects with it. Joe goes for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THRE…NO!
Spike gets the shoulder up!
The roof nearly comes off as the fans cheer loudly. Meanwhile, Joe is beside himself as he thought he’d put the little guy down. Spike gets up now as he and Joe charge each other, Spike bringing himself low as this time he connects with the Running Battering Ram, sending Joe staggering backward into the nearest corner. As he hits the corner. Spike connects with another Running Battering Ram, then follows up with the Acid Drop out of the corner. Spike looks visibly spent as he collapses into the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Spike Dudley!
Tom Phillips: Uncle Spike did it!
Mauro Ranallo: With great heart and determination, the littlest Dudley put down his opponent tonight.
Corey Graves: You can bet there’s going to be some celebrating in Dudleyville tonight!
As Spike celebrates his win, Backlash continues elsewhere.
The scene opens up on Batista looking into the camera.
”The Hollywood Animal” Batista: Leyton Buzzard. When you woke up this morning, Leyton, what did you do? Did you have a hearty breakfast while you studied more footage of mine, mister student of the game? Did you do some more Rocky style training? Whatever you did, I hope you made the most of it and appreciated every second because today’s Backlash which means you’ve got an ass whooping the likes of which you’ve never received coming and tomorrow morning isn’t going to be so great. Because instead of having the freedom to get out of bed and do whatever you feel like doing, you won’t be able to move without a nurse’s assistance or permission and won’t even be in the comfort of your own bed. I’m putting your ass in the hospital. Why? Because you’re an irritating little pissant and guys like you that draw my ire, well, that’s what they fucking get. See you out there.
Batista continues to look into the camera as Backlash continues elsewhere.
“Catch your breath” begins to blast through the pa system as the crowd stand to their feet as they hear the theme song Everybody turns their attention to the entrance ramp to watch Finn Balor walk out onto the stage. Finn Balor walks out onto the stage in his blue leather jacket and blue trunks and quickly embraces the crowd as he walks out.
Tony Chimel: Weighing In at 180lbs from Ireland, Finn Balor!
The lights begin to flash, making the crowd go wild. Finn Balor times his theme song perfectly and taunts the crowd as the lights flash. After taunting Finn Balor throws up his collar on his jacket and proceeds to walk down the ramp and make his way to the ring. Balor then climbs onto the turnbuckle and begins to showboat the crowd once more as the light flickers.
Finn Balor hops off of the turnbuckle.
The opening bells of the New York Stock Exchange ring throughout the arena, as "Longhorn" blares loudly, signaling the arrival of The Wrestling God. The crowd in the arena is quick to break out into a chorus of boo's, showing their disdain for John "Bradshaw" Layfield. As the lights flicker between gold and green and the camera pans around the crowd, we see JBL's trademark limousine, complete with longhorns on the hood, push through the stage curtains and pull up to the side of the Revolution stage. As the limo comes to a stop, the driver hurries out of the front seat, and rushes towards the back seat door, which has been emblazoned with JBL's logo. The driver opens the door and out steps "The One Man Conglomerate" with a huge smile on his face. Layfield is wearing his ring jacket with a towel tucked in and wrapped around his neck, and his white cowboy hat. He looks around the arena and removes his hat, waving it at the crowd as he makes his way towards the stage.
Tony Chimel: Making his way to the ring, weighting in at 290 pounds, from New York City - John "Bradshaw" Layfield - JBL!
Layfield walks down the ramp and waves his hat around towards the crowd, completely oblivious to how much these fans detest him. Layfield trots down the ramp, before he stops and looks at a fan at ringside with a look of disgust on his face. He scoffs and smirks as he walks down the ramp and up the stairs into the ring. He stops and removes his hat again, and throws his arms out, which draws a big reaction from an irate crowd. Layfield enters the ring, and places his hat back on his head, while he walks over to the turnbuckle. He pulls himself up to the top rope and again removes his hat and waves his arms out to his side, drawing another huge chorus of boo's from the crowd. JBL hops down and finally begins to focus his attention to the match at hand.
DING DING DING
The two men lock up, JBL pushes Finn into the corner, The referee begins splitting the two men up but Finn connects with a cheap shot over the referees shoulder. JBL steps back holding his nose as Balor explodes into action, darting towards JBL with incredible speed. He ducks under JBL's attempted clothesline. Using nimble footwork, Balor swiftly manoeuvres behind his opponent, gaining a strategic advantage. He quickly wraps his arms around JBL's waist, attempting a German suplex.
JBL, resists Balor's efforts. Planting his feet firmly on the mat, JBL breaks Balor's grip and reverses the hold. With an impressive display of raw power, JBL hoists Balor into the air, executing a thunderous release suplex that sends Balor crashing down onto his back.
Tom Phillips: "JBL throwing Balor like a ragdoll!"
Corey Graves: "Balor is attempting to audition for a role on the Fall Guy Movie"
The impact echoes throughout the arena, leaving Balor writhing in pain. JBL seizes the opportunity, forcefully grabbing hold of Balor's hair and yanking him back up to his feet. With commanding authority, JBL unleashes an Irish whip, sending Balor hurtling towards the ropes.
Mauro Ranallo: "The ropes just about snapped with the power behind that Irish Whip"
Balor's body collides with the ropes, the impact reverberating through his frame. He rebounds off them, propelled back towards the centre of the ring. JBL charges forward, aiming to exploit Balor's
vulnerable position with a devastating clothesline.
Tom Phillips: "Clothesline from..."
In a display of extraordinary instinct, Balor reacts with lightning reflexes. He redirects JBL's thunderous clothesline towards the corners. JBL's momentum carries him forward, crashing forcefully into the turnbuckle with a resounding thud.
Tom Phillips: "No redirected right into the turnbuckle..."
As JBL staggers back, momentarily stunned, Balor swiftly rises to his feet. Capitalizing on the opportunity, Balor springs into action, launching himself towards JBL with a burst of speed and determination. He connects with a lightning-quick dropkick, driving his foot into JBL's chest with pinpoint accuracy.
The impact of Balor's dropkick sends shockwaves through JBL's body, causing him to stumble backward, his equilibrium momentarily disrupted. Balor seizes the advantage, his movements fluid and precise as he continues his assault. He unleashes a rapid barrage of strikes—forearm smashes, knee strikes, and well-placed kicks that target specific areas of JBL's body.
Corey Graves: "Balor has the right idea keep on top of his man to not give him a moment to formulate a plan..."
JBL tries to regain his composure, attempting to ward off Balor's relentless assaul. He gets up the knee into the abdomen of Finn, He places his arms around as he hits a devastating release suplex, The impact is bone-jarring, causing Balor to land awkwardly on his head and neck. The crowd gasps in shock as the impact rattles Balor's body. He lies on the mat, grimacing in pain...
Balor is stirring, Mysterio gets on the apron looking to interfere but JBL is on him like a Texan on a smoker, Mysterio drops from the apron as he sees his life flash between his eyes as the Texan narrowly misses a clothesline attempt...
Mauro Ranallo: "A near death experience for Mysterio there he better keep his head in check..."
JBL gives Dominik a warning if he were to interfere again it'd be his head, The distraction is enough as Finn uses his feet to drop toe hold JBL face first into the canvas. Balor holds his neck as he rebounds off the rope and goes low with a basement dropkick to JBL who just got to his hands and knees...
Balor swiftly transitions into his next move, seizing the opportunity to exploit JBL's weakened state. He grabs hold of JBL's arm, wrenching it behind his back in a painful armbar. The crowd watches in awe as Balor applies his submission hold with precision, exerting pressure on JBL's joint.
JBL grits his teeth, his face contorting in agony as Balor torques his arm. With a burst of strength, JBL powers through the pain, rising to his feet and shaking off Balor's grip. He transitions into lifting Balor through sheer strength using one arm, Balor is able to roll through using his legs to arm drag JBL back to the canvas where he pulls back on the shoulder joint...
Tom Phillips: "Balor wearing down JBL through this submission move removing the power base for JBL..."
JBL goes for the ropes but Priest pulls back the ropes removing them further from the Texans grasp. JBL is looking worse for wear as the ringside interference is keeping Balor firmly in control. Balor realising the Texan will probably never tap, He grabs the rope and threads the arm of JBL through it to apply more pressure to the shoulder, He knows it won't get him the win but anything to inhibit the power advantage of JBL, The referee begins to count for the DQ...
Mauro Ranallo: "Just dirty no regard for the rules..."
1...
2...
3...
4...
At last possible minute Balor releases the hand of JBL, He looks pleased with himself as the crowd give them a peace of their mind. Balor, Balor goes to the top rope as JBL nurses his shoulder, JBL stumbles to his feet using the ropes, Bent over as Balor leaps into the air going for the Coup De Grace to the back as JBL stands up straight grabbing hold of the neck of Balor mid air as he lands, Balor chops himself free as JBL gives the arm but meets Balor with a stiff headbutt that knocks both guys loopy...
Balor is down on the canvas probably doesn't know where he is as blood begins to poor down his face from the devastating impact. JBL lifts Balor to his feet before he whips the Irish Lad into the ropes on the rebound, JBL lifts up Balor and plants him into the canvas with a devastating spine buster, Layfield makes the cover...
1...
2...
Tom Phillips: "Mysterio what is this runt up to..."
No Balor foot is moved under the rope by Mysterio as the referee catches eye of the boot but not Mysterio, JBL is undettered as he makes his way to his feet, He has one move in his arsenal, He yanks Balor to his feet, Balor is still unsure of the postcode he is in as Balor is on sea legs, Balor is a perfect victim for the clothesline, JBL rebounds off the rope, Mysterio is on the apron pushing Balor out of the way of the Clothesline, JBL goes shoulder first into the turnbuckle, As Balor leans into the rope giving him a quick kick to the side of the head, JBL falls to the canvas stunned, Balor looks to the top rope realising the Texan is in the drop zone...
Mauro Ranallo: "Mysterio has put this match on a silver platter for Balor with his constant interferences"
Balor makes his way up to the top rope, Balor goes to leap but a second wind has JBL already back on his feet and on the second rope attempting to hit Balor with a superplex, Balor sensing the danger drops to the canvas as he threads himself through JBL's legs, Balor has JBL on his shoulders he cant hold it much longer...
Corey Graves: "JBL like a cat all of a sudden"
Balor sends JBL to the canvas with a powerbomb. Layfields shoulders are on the mat as Balor puts all his weight behind legs keeping them above the Texans head, Mysterio is in prime positioning as he grabs the legs of JBL through the ropes adding his weight behind the pin fall attempt out of eye shot of the referee...
Tom Phillips: "Balor going through the legs to deliver a devastating powerbomb!"
Dominik releases his hold on JBL's feet, allowing him to break free just in time. Balor is sent flying across the ring and crashes into the corner headfirst, leaving both men down. Meanwhile, Dax strikes Mysterio with a right punch, causing Dom to back up. However, Priest intervenes by connecting with a strong uppercut on Cash, sending him reeling. Dax then focuses his attention on Dom, but Mysterio pushes him off and retaliates with a boot to the face. However, Dax swiftly lifts Mysterio by his legs and runs him back-first into the steel post.
Mauro Ranallo: "Pandemonium ringside as both men down in the ring..."
As Priest throws Wheeler into the barricade, he notices Dax slamming Dom into the post. Dax avoids a right punch from Priest and throws him into the barricade. Taking advantage of the situation, Wheeler uses Dax's Irish whip to backdrop Priest over the barricade. Priest manages to land on his feet by grabbing the railing. At this point, Priest grabs Cash by the neck, but Dax tries to save his partner. The duo attempts to suplex Priest back over the barricade, but Mysterio, who has recovered, launches himself from the ring steps, flying over the barricade and taking everyone down with him. The chaos spills out into the crowd.
The four men gradually get back on their feet and continue fighting through the crowd while the cheering audience supports them. Balor slowly recovers and starts getting up, but JBL, who is already on his feet, beats him to the punch. JBL grabs Balor, and just as he does, Rhodes jumps over the barricade, grabbing the title belt from the podium and sliding into the ring. The referee is still preoccupied with the ringside brawl. Rhodes aims to hit JBL with the belt but inadvertently strikes Balor in the forehead instead. Balor goes down hard, and JBL takes advantage of the situation, rebounding off the ropes and nearly decapitating Rhodes with a devastating lariat.
Tom Phillips: "Clothesline for your troubles Cody!"
With Balor down and out, JBL hoists him up by the ear and forcefully brings him to his feet. Rhodes is unconscious at ringside. JBL momentarily leaves Balor to rebound off the ropes, wrapping his arm around Balor's head before violently driving him into the canvas with a brutal lariat. JBL falls to his knees and makes the cover, while the referee counts:
1...
2...
3...
DING! DING! DING!
"Your winner by way of pinfall... J... B... L..."
JBL rolls off his man, He gets to his feet as he picks up the title that was left middle of the ring, JBL raises the title high as he climbs the corners of the ring, Raising his newly won prize right above his head...
Balor, on the other hand is visibly disappointed with Cody Rhodes, gives him a sidelong glance. Balor then turns his back on Cody and starts making his way down the ramp, showing his frustration and disappointment with the outcome of the match.
We head to the backstage area where Kayla Braxton is standing by outside of Trevor Lee's locker room, hoping to get an interview with him when suddenly someone screams her name.
Sami Zayn: Hey Kayla!
Sami Zayn comes walking down the hall with the Forever Championship over his shoulder.
Sami Zayn: Did you see that? What did I tell you. Edge is not on my level. If you actually believe that he was ever worthy of being UWF Champion, then you'd support my claim to being the next challenger for the UWF Championship. It's that simple! Shark Boy has never been better than me. His win the the Fatal Four Way was a fluke all because Batista decided to get involved. I put Edge in his place and I've humiliated Leyton Buzzard before. Who else is left?
Kayla Braxton: Well your protege Will Ospreay has been on a role and should he win his match later tonight, he could very well find himself in an opportunity to become the next #1 contender.
Sami Zayn: Look, Young Willy is a fantastic prospect. That's why I scouted him but he's just that right now, a prospect. He still has much to learn but give him time. He will be UWF Champion one day.
Kayla Braxton: Speaking of Will, how is he after that Spear through the barricade? Do you feel bad for essentially causing that to happen? Will he be ready to compete?
Sami Zayn: What we do isn't ballet. He knew the risks when he decided to come out there. I told him to stay in the back so it's really his fault but he's young, he'll learn. An old man like Edge trying to tackle him isn't going to stop him. I'm sure he's 100 percent.
Kayla Braxton: Well we did just get word that he's having his ribs taped up in the doctor's office. You don't seem to be worried though. You didn't even check on him after the match.
Sami Zayn: Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know I had to act a certain way for MY friend. I'll have you know that I was heartbroken to see what Edge did. I know him and Kyle are former nWo mates so it was probably a shady deal done between the two of them but I couldn't stick around and tend to Young Willy. We all know what a sadistic bastard Edge is. He can claim to have turned a new leaf all he wants but we know how he is. I got out of there for the safety of my well being. How would Young Willy train to be better if his master his hurt? Don't worry though I'll go check on him right now. You'll be the first ones to know if there's any changes.
Zayn walks off down the hall. At the end there's a sign with a arrow pointing to the left showing Catering and an arrow to the right showing the Doctor's Office. Zayn goes down to the left as the show moves on.
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.
As the camera focuses on Buzzard, we see him walking down the aisle towards the ring with a sense of purpose. He keeps his head down and appears to be in a state of complete focus on the task at hand. With the truly not enjoying Buzzard's appearance the crowd unleashing hell upon Buzzard booing his mere existence into oblivion, Buzzard holds his "title" around his shoulder.
Despite his efforts, the noise of the crowd is still audible as he slowly makes his way to the center of the ring. With a deep breath - Chimel: "On his way to the ring, From Bristol, United Kingdom, HE IS A NEW CLASS OF WRESTLER...." Buzzard moves his hands to the back of his head, covering his ears to try and avoid the raucous atmosphere of the arena.
"Leyton Buzzard."
With a quick roll, Buzzard slides under the ropes and climbs into the ring, quickly placing his body between the top and middle ropes, He sits on the ropes lifting his "title" to the crowd, Buzzard has a few choice words for the crowd but he closes his eyes to ground himself in the now....
The camera focuses in on Buzzard as he throws himself into the corner of the ring, kneeling and sitting on the bottom turnbuckle. With a look of determination, he awaits his destiny, mentally preparing himself for what is to come, but Buzzard remains focused on the task at hand.
Vs
The bell sounds and both men make their way to the centre of the ring, Batista is mouthing all kinds of expletives in Buzzard's direction - Buzzard returning the favour in kind. Batista is the first to break from the verbal to the physical when he slaps Buzzard across the face sending the Bristol native to the mat holding his face. 'Don't you dare come to my set again, you son of a bitch!... I'm a megastar, I'm the final boss, you ain't shit!' Batista yells into the face of Buzzard, towering over the grounded Englishman. Buzzard however takes his opportunity and gets an upkick into the face of Batista sending the big man tumbling backwards trying to catch his balance. Buzzard quickly scrambles to his feet and launches into an all assault on the backpeddling 'Animal'. Right hand after right hand, followed by forearm shots to the temple forcing Batista back into the corner. With his back against the turnbuckles Batista quickly uses his size and strength advantage to turn the tides and turn Buzzard into the corner where he cracks him with a stiff back elbow shot to the face. Batista then goes about digging his shoulder deep into the sternum and abdomen of his opponent. Buzzard winces in pain as the wind is forced from his sails, Batista repeating the shoulder barge into the mid-section twice again before he takes a step back, grabs Buzzard by the hand and pulls him into a vicious Short-Arm Clothesline.
Mauro Ranallo: No love lost between these two gentlemen here tonight - Buzzard feels he would certainly be in the main event tonight if not for 'The Animal' and Big Dave has been nothing short of plagued by Leyton Buzzard in the intervening weeks before tonight.
Corey Graves: By the looks of it, all Buzzard has achieved in his pursual of Batista is pissing the Final Boss off.
Batista stands up and wipes the imprint of Buzzard's boot off of his brow before he goes back on the assault. Batista wastes little time in raising Buzzard to his feet, he holds Buzzard by the face and forces him into the corner. 'Listen you little shit, you have no idea who you're dealing with!' screams Batista into the face of Buzzard before taking the Brit by the collar and launching him half way across the ring with a big Biel Throw. Batista has a wry smile on his face as he listens to Buzzard yell out in pain holding his back. Batista crouches down, he's motioning for his opponent to get up. Batista measures Buzzard looking for the Spear. Batista sees his chance as Buzzard gets to a vertical base and makes his move darting towards the Brit. Buzzard however sees it coming and shows great athleticism as he leapfrogs clean over Batista with 'The Final Boss' careening between the turnbuckles and into the steel ring post with agonising aplomb as a result. Buzzard much like his avian namesake goes after Batista as soon as a weakness has presented itself - grabbing the screen star and tossing him once more into the unforgiving steel this time sending the big man to the outside, Batista's entire body landing with a thick thud as it bounces off the outside ring mats.
Tom Phillips: Just like that the tales have turned!
Mauro Ranallo: You can't give a competitor like Leyton Buzzard an opening - he's an opportunist and he's certainly took the opportunity to damn near separate Batista's shoulder form his body.
Buzzard steps through the ropes tentatively seeing his opponent downed. Buzzard stands on the ring steps looking on as Batista struggles to his hands and knees and just as he does Buzzard jumps off with a big double foot stomp to the same shoulder which has recently been acquainted with the steel ring post. Buzzard quickly scrambles to his feet and immediately just starts stomping and kicking the right shoulder of 'The Animal' as he struggles to push Buzzard away to create some separation. Batista tries to get himself back to his feet but finds himself smothered by the Buzzard onslaught. Batista pushes Buzzard off again but this time Buzzard runs and plants Big Dave with a pinpoint dropkick sending Batista once again careering back this time shoulder first into the steel ring steps. Batista slumps to a seated position holding his shoulder as Buzzard enters the ring and tells the referee to count. Buzzard raises his fists triumphantly in the air as the referees count reaches the half way point.
Tom Phillips: He can't seriously be willing to take the count out win?
Corey Graves: At the end of the day Tom, the record books only show wins and losses - and any sort of win over a megastar like Batista goes a long way here in the UWF
Buzzard turns to the crowd who are booing him in order to give some back, once again raising his hands in the air. Unbeknownst to Buzzard however is that Batista has gotten himself back to his feet and although he's supporting his right arm like a sling, he manages to roll into the ring to beat the referees ten count. Buzzard turns around with a look of frustration plain across his face. He marches towards Batista and grabs him by the shoulder towards the middle of the ring before twisting his arm with an arm wringer, with Batista now face down on the mat, Buzzard proceeds to lock in a variation of a top wrist-lock, squatting onto the back of the fallen Batista and wrenching back with all his might trying to force him to quit.
Mauro Ranallo: Another Englishman coined that very manoeuvre the London Dungeon many years ago - no matter what you call it, it's still as effective as ever, Batista won't have much of a shoulder left at this point.
Corey Graves: The shoulder is the flimsiest joint in the human body and Leyton Buzzard knows that, he's a scholar, a genius - he had this game plan all along!
Buzzard continues to contort and wrench on the arm of Batista who is yelling in pain but receiving little to no sympathy from the crowd. On the contrary, the crowd are quite excited about the prospect of seeing 'The Animal' tap out and be brought down a few pegs. Batista however isn't ready to submit just yet and begins to slide along the mat, slithering himself towards the ropes. He might have one shoulder, but he still has a strength and size advantage over his opponent and so he manages to get himself to the bottom rope. Buzzard looks almost incensed as he continues to wrench back on the arm as he reaches the full extent of the referee's five count. Buzzard eventually letting go and taking a few steps back as the referee goes to check on Batista. Buzzard yells 'CALL IT REF!', Batista tells him to get lost in a more expletive laden manner and fires a middle finger in his direction. Enraged Buzzard makes his move on Batista but falls straight into the trap as he reaches to grab a weakened Batista who is struggling to his feet, big Dave shows surprising agility to drop down and take Buzzard to the mat with a droptoe hold before rolling over the body of Buzzard, hooking around his head and arm and locking in the END CREDITS!
Tom Phillips: END CREDITS!
Corey Graves: This could be it right here, almost out of nowhere!
There's an onset of panic on the face of Buzzard - and it was going so well. Buzzard shakes his head no in the face of the referee's constant question of 'do you quit?'. Batista himself grimaces as he pulls back - his right arm and shoulder still proving bothersome - perhaps unable to lock in the End Credits to it's fullest extent. Buzzard leans back and shifts the weight back onto Batista's shoulders for a quick roll up attempt!
1...
2...
Batista rolls back over and keeps the hold locked in!. Batista continues to wrench back on the hold as Buzzard yells NO! over and over again, NO!. Buzzard once again shifts the momentum back and gets back in another pinning predicament
1..
2...
Batista relinquishes the hold and kicks out. Buzzard scrambles to the outside holding his neck but Batista isn't ready to give up the hunt just yet, regardless of the state of his shoulder. Buzzard is still holding his neck recovering when suddenly Big Dave comes barrerling through the middle rope with a slightly ungainly but nevertheless impactful Suicide Dive - completely wiping Buzzard out against the barricade on the outside!
Tom Phillips: I swear to god I've never seen Batista do that!
Mauro Phillips: Batista flying through the air with the grace of a brick - but with all the same impact!
Batista stands up and lets out a primal roar but soon reaches at his injured arm and shoulder. He gives it a few rolls and tries to shake it off but it's clearly still effecting him as he grabs Buzzard by his bleach blond locks and raises him to his feet only to slam his head back against the barricade. Batista repeats this for a second time before he takes Buzzard and tosses him into the ring. Batista positions Buzzard so his head and chest are laying prone on the outside ring apron under the bottom rope. Batista then steps up onto the apron himself and takes a few steps before leaping into the air and dropping the big leg drop onto Buzzard. Buzzard reaches for his neck as Batista quickly gets himself back into the ring. Batista grabs a hold of the top rope and tries to stretch out his bum shoulder, it's still quite obviously bothering him - but all it's seem to achieve thus far is to piss him off further. Buzzard in the meantime has crawled towards the corner of the ring holding his neck and neck. Batista sees his chance and charges at Buzzard hitting him with a big corner clothesline. Batista then quickly hoists Buzzard up onto his good shoulder and makes the move to the other side of the ring where he drops Buzzard head first onto the top turnbuckle with Snake Eyes, Batista then hits the ropes and comes back at Buzzard with a big ol' big boot knocking Buzzard down to the mat with a splat. Batista covers.
1...
2...
Buzzard rolls the shoulder out. Batista looks even more pissed off now as he quickly mounts Buzzard and starts laying into him with rights and lefts to the temple - the referee warning 'The Animal' about the use of clenched fists as he bloodies the fallen Buzzard, finally relinquishing the mount to stand up and point at Buzzard - 'so this is the future?!... forget it, I'm the past, I'm the now, I'm the damn future!' is the yell from the arrogant Hollywood megastar as he stands with his hands covered in the blood which is trickling from above the eye of Buzzard.
Mauro Ranallo: Whether he's working with one arm or two, Batista is still one of the most devastating forces on the UWF roster and with the tides now back in his favour - I wonder if Buzzard has missed his opportunity.
Corey Graves: Buzzard is a lot tougher than people would care to give him credit for but he's done nothing but anger 'The Animal' and I fear for the worst now Batista is back on top.
Batista is firmly in control as he grabs Buzzard and lifts him up by the head before taking him by the arm and launching him across the ring with an Irish Whip. The Irish Whip has so much force that Buzzard bounces off the turnbuckle and slumps straight onto his rear-end. Batista takes the time now to walk up to Buzzard and place his boot on his face before he wipes it across Buzzard's bloodied mush a couple of times. Batista then sits Buzzard up on the top rope and climbs up himself, he's looking for a Superplex. Batista wraps his arm around the head of Buzzard but Buzzard starts fight back and fends Batista off, eventually raking the eyes of 'The Animal' before Batista steps down. Buzzard steadies himself and as Batista turns around he goes for the Double Knees into the shoulders of Batista but Batista somehow manages to catch Buzzard mid-air with a devastating Spinebuster!. The crowd gasp at the impact as Buzzard lays flat out on the mat. Batista covers.
1...
2...
Buzzard rolls the shoulder out to the shock of Batista who is now clutching at his weakened shoulder before he pounds it and jumps to his feet and lets out another roar.
Mauro Ranallo: That should have been all-she-wrote for Buzzard tonight but he's showing incredible resilliance to stay in this.
Corey Graves: Batista went through him like a wrecking ball goes through the side of a building Mauro, how is Leyton Buzzard still in this? - I don't think it will be for long because Batista is signalling for the end.
Batista stands up and shakes the ropes with rage. He turns around to face Buzzard with his hands outstretched waiting for his chance to pounce. Buzzard uses the ring ropes to pull himself back to his feet but he's on wobbly legs as he groggily turns round into a boot to the mid-section. Batista gets Buzzard in position for the Batista Bomb. 'The Animal' lifts Buzzard up into the air but as he does his shoulder gives way and he drops Buzzard back to the mat. Buzzard with cat-like reflexes even at this stage lands on his feet and before Batista can get the chance to turn around to face him, Buzzard has bounced himself off the bottom rope and backwards into Batista with a devastating Air Buzzard. Batista stumbles backwards swinging at the air as he turns around and Buzzard takes the opportunity to hit him with a second even more devastating Air Buzzard!. Batista is flat out in the centre of the ring, the crowd gasps, Buzzard makes the cover.
1...
2...
...3!
Winner: Leyton Buzzard!
The Rocky style training on the streets of Bristol has paid off as Leyton Buzzard has his hand raised in victory. Leyton is ecstatic, heading to the top rope to let the whole world that he got one over on Batista and all the THINGS in the crowd. Conspiracy be damned, tonight Leyton beat a Hollywood megastar, tonight Leyton felled the Final Boss and he wants the world to know it... we go elsewhere as Buzzard continues to celebrate as Batista is helped from the ring and up the ramp out of sight.
We find ourselves backstage in an empty locker room. Empty except for sitting at one bench is the Intercontinental Champion Maxwell Jacob Friedman. He is sitting in his gear, championship around his neck, scarf around his shoulders and Jake Hager standing behind him. As the camera swoops over to where MJF can see it, Hager puts his paws on the champion’s shoulders and starts giving his traps a massage, loosening up MJF for the upcoming match.
Maxwell Jacob Friedman: Fifty one days. It has been fifty one days since I sent your fat ass flying out of the Royal Rumble and started this insane dance we’ve been doing. And in those fifty one days; I have pinned you clean in the middle of the ring, I’ve taken your Intercontinental Championship at the biggest event of the year and I’ve been a more worthwhile champion in a month than you could’ve been holding this title for years. But what have you done? You’ve jumped me from behind multiple times because you think that proves anything. You stole my championship because it was the only way to get yourself another shot. And you lost…match after match.
MJF takes a deep breath as Hager continues his shoulder massage.
Maxwell Jacob Friedman: This has dragged on for so much longer than I think anyone has cared to see it. Your insane babbling of thinking you had the upperhand in any of this has done nothing but prove what a buffoon you are to this locker room and even those idiots out there are starting to see through it. So tonight at Backlash….this is over. I’m done dealing with you, when that bell rings it rings for the final time between us. There’s no automatic rematch for you, no more stealing my championship to try and hold it hostage, no more late night visits to EC3’s office so he can bounce his balls off your chin as you “earn” a shot in any way you can besides proving yourself in the ring.
Hager looks very confused by that last statement and stops the massage. MJF looks up to him and mimes like someone was putting an object in their mouth and it pokes out the side of your cheek. Hager now understands and went back to loosening up the neck of the champion.
Maxwell Jacob Friedman: I know that I’m going to put you in your place for yet another time, but if the world were to rotate backwards. If hell were to freeze over…if the apocalypse were to happen and I lost tonight. I waive my automatic rematch clause, that is how done with you I am. I don’t want to think about your bloated body, I don’t want to have to listen to the psychotic ramblings you call promos. I am done being in the same ring as someone like you. But I won’t lose, I am going to move on to what’s next for someone of my placement in this company. And you can go frolic with the nobodies at the bottom of the ladder where you belong. Unlike the forgettable reign of Eddie Kingston, this will not be a one and done championship reign. I have plans and none of them involve Burger Kingston. So relish your final moment in the limelight you fat piece of shit. Because when I’m done kicking your ass, when you tap and scream for mercy. Your fifteen minutes with greatness will be over and you will disappear into irrelevance once again. I know you are a moron Eddie and maybe that’s why it’s taken these fifty one days for you to learn this very simple lesson, but my name is Maxwell Jacob Friedman. I’m better than you and you know it.
With that MJF waves off the camera as he starts rolling his head from side to side loosening up his neck along with the shoulder massage of Hager.
Tony Chimel: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the UWF Intercontinental Championship! Introducing first and already in the ring, the challenger. From Yonkers, New York and weighing in at 240 pounds... Eddie... KINGSTON!
Eddie raises a fist in the air and roars out for the benefit of the fans, who pop at the Mad King's name. He then falls back to the corner to await the champion's arrival.
Chimel: And the champion...
"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 Jake Hager. MJF laughs at the fans who are trying to get under his skin as he walks towards the ring. He adjusts the Intercontinental Championship around his waist just to rub it in their face that he has it.
Chimel: Making his way to the ring accompanied by Jake Hager. Weighing in at 216 pounds from Plainview New York. He is the UWF Intercontinental Champion and 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 Hager opens the ropes for him. He stands in the middle of the ring flexing a bit and smirking as his music fades. MJF pulls the belt from around his waist and hands it over to Hager for safe keeping.
DING DING!
The opening bell rings and the Mad King immediately takes the fight to the man holding what he considers to still be his title, rushing MJF and downing him with a vicious lariat. MJF tries to get back to his feet, but by the time he's up to one knee, Kingston grounds him with a quick Yakuza kick. Thinking discretion might be the better part of valor, the champion rolls out of the ring to get some early separation as he runs the back of his hand across his jacked jaw, Kingston throwing his arms up as he stands tall in the middle of the ring to a decent pop from the stands.
Tom Phillips: Ladies and gentlemen, we're mere moments into the Intercontinental Championship match here and so far, Eddie Kingston has been establishing exactly why he feels the locker room should fear him.
Corey Graves: With a clothesline and a big boot? C'mon, Phillips, you and I both know it's going to take a Hell of a lot more than that to keep Maxwell down.
The Intercontinental Champion starts to climb back up onto the apron, which of course draws Kingston's attention as he moves over to address his foe. MJF puts one leg over the middle rope, then appeals to the official as he lingers there, asking the ref to assure some separation and sportsmanlike behaviour. The official turns to Kingston, but before he can say anything, Eddie launches into a basement dropkick to the knee that also sends the ropes snapping back into MJF's other leg, causing him to fall flat on his back on the apron! There's another pop for this display even as the referee rebukes Kingston, but he shrugs as MJF rolls off the apron to stagger toward his wingman, Jake Hager. The pair have a brief conversation as the cameras get in close, then the Intercontinental Champion turns back toward the ring to enter it just as Kingston dives between the ropes and takes him to the floor with a suicide dive!
Mauro Ranallo: Tope suicida!
Kingston's up on both feet and looming over MJF, then just starts unloading on him with slaps to the head, mauling him like a bear with those big mitts of his. MJF tries to throw up the arms to defend, but they're met with the withering blows. Hager is silently contemplating action from the side, but he catches a glare from the official that says he shouldn't dare and he shows some restraint. Kingston then pulls MJF to his feet, slamming his spine against the Spanish announce table and grabbing a fistful of hair with one hand while the other delivers brutal, undefended punches to the dome. He manages four or five of those before he gets a verbal warning from the official and so just brings MJF to the apron, slams his face off of it and rolls him in under the bottom rope, sliding in under and washing his face with a forearm as he covers.
1...
...NO! MJF gets the shoulder up!
Graves: Going for a cover off a few punches and a suicide dive, this is amateur hour.
Kingston, on one knee, smirks as he stands, bringing MJF with him. Eddie leads MJF to the corner and looks to smash his face off the turnbuckle, but MJF plants his feet and refuses to be led. Kingston tries again, and MJF plants his feet again, then connects with an elbow to the gut that winds Eddie, followed by another, and another, before battling to a full stand and delivering a flurry of rights and lefts that force Eddie onto the back foot. Kingston is quickly backed up against the ropes and MJF takes his wrist, whipping him across the ring. When Kingston does, he rebounds into a superkick that staggers him and sends him crashing back into the ropes, before he rebounds into a scoop slam that has him arching his back as the Intercontinental Champion gets to his feet, roaring and fired up amid a chorus of boos. MJF moves to pull the man he has bullied for weeks back to his feet, then sends him into the corner before following after at a deliberate pace and climbing up on the buckles, then lifting a cocked fist and raining it down hard and relentlessly on the top of Kingston's skull. The fans, though they hate the champ, can't resist a good count and they keep the tally for him – it runs past 10, but the chant gets more distorted the further beyond it goes, and it's a diminishing returns situation as Friedman climbs down and massages his fist while Kingston is left dazed in the corner.
Ranallo: It looks like the champion might have to ice those knuckles after that punishing flurry of blows.
Phillips: You know others in the past have called Kingston famously thick-skulled. Even MJF has insinuated as much. You'd think he'd come prepared.
MJF comes back in looking for more, and he connects with a knee lift to Kingston, then smirks at him as he washes the face with a hand and taunts him for being overweight. "Hey, Burger Kingston, how do you like this, huh?" He asks before driving another knee into the gut, then pie-faces him again with the bare hand. The champion saunters away a few steps and showboats for the benefit of the hot crowd before he comes back in and goes for a third knee, but this time, Kingston catches it with his hands and shoves it back. MJF looks to the challenger in alarm. He eats an absolutely brutal chop, audible in the cheap seats, as he does so. And then another, and a third, which drives him to the canvas. Eddie comes out of the corner smashing his chest with both fists like a true descendant of the apes before turning back around, grabbing the top rope with both hands and just unloading a flurry of vicious stomps to the chest of the champion.
Graves: Someone call 9-1-1, that man-ape is trying to cave MJF's ribs in!
Phillips: Well, I don't know about that, but he's definitely going to leave the champion winded with an assault like that.
MJF rolls under the ropes to create some separation and the official moves to tell Kingston to back off, so he does, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. MJF manages to get to one knee on the apron before he starts coming back over, and the champion finds both feet just in time to drive between the ropes with a shoulder thrust to the gut that staggers Kingston. Eddie swings wild and MJF ducks under the attempted clubbing fist, then puts a thumb in his eye! The fans boo loudly and the official gives MJF a mouthful, but he doesn't care as Kingston staggers away pawing at the organ, which buys him the time to get back in the ring. As he approaches, Kingston turns around with a brutal-looking lariat, but MJF catches the arm and rolls through with a crucifix pin!
1...
2...
...NO! Kingston kicks out!
MJF gets up to his feet and argues with the official, who contends that it was clearly just a two-count despite his protestations. The champion then walks away shaking his head and laughing at what he sees to be the absurdity of the situation, before moving back over to Kingston to deal with him. By this point, however, Eddie has found one knee and he connects with a wild forearm to MJF's gut, and then another, before battling up to his own vertical base with a few more of the powerful blows. Once he's there, Eddie grabs MJF by the hair and throws him face-first into the turnbuckle! At last, the fans pop as the impact actually busts the champion open, beads of crimson forming along his brow before running as thin lines down his face.
Ranallo: With how bitter this feud has been, I was wondering when we were going to be seeing some colour!
The fans are into it, popping loudly as MJF is made to wear the proverbial crimson mask, which of course has Hager concerned on the outside. MJF falls to hands and knees and crawls toward the opposite corner – toward his enforcer – leaving drips of blood on the canvas the entire way there. Kingston stalks him like some kind of natural predator. Supernatural, even, given his vaunted toughness. He pulls the straps from his shoulders and lets them hang at his sides, his body bruised from the conflict and scarred from hundreds of other battles, but he remains unbowed. Kingston bends and grabs MJF in a German clutch, then straight deadlifts him off the canvas as the champion's legs thrash before he is thrown clear overhead in one of the most brutal examples of the suplex ever recorded. It's so sickening it even, momentarily, silences the crowd as MJF impacts and practically folds in half before laying out flat. Kingston moves to cover...
...or would, except Hager's hand slips in under the bottom rope and grabs him by the ankle, holding him in place. The official is on it in a second and almost calls for the DQ, but Kingston puts a hand on his chest and shakes his head, then pulls free of the grasp of the enforcer and invites him up on the apron. Hager does so, but the instant he does, Kingston introduces his jaw to a forearm, then another, then another before grabbing him by the back of the head and bouncing his skull off the ring post! Hager, dazed, falls to the outside and Kingston laughs – that is until he's caught from behind and pulled into the Double Cross! The fans are booing as the bloodied MJF hooks the leg!
Phillips: Not like this!
1...
2...
...NO! Kingston gets a foot on the ropes!
Graves: What do you mean, not like this, Tom? Eddie took his eye off the ball and even welcomed Hager up to scrap. He invited this on himself!
MJF looks to the official in disbelief, rising to his feet and actually cussing the ref out as he moves toward them while wiping away some of the blood that is literally staining his visage at this point. The official raises their hands up and shakes their head before ordering MJF to pay attention to his opponent, but the champion actually reaches and grabs them by the collar, giving the ref a shake. The ref breaks free and shoves MJF, then warns him that any more involvement will see him disqualified. MJF could take that easy way out to retain his title, but no. This has gotten personal. He has to put an end to the Mad King.
And so he turns around, but then he swoons, braces his head, and collapses to the canvas. The fans go quiet. The official drops to one knee and starts checking MJF for signs of life.
Phillips: What?!?
Ranallo: MJF is losing plenty of blood. He might be out of this match because of it.
Kingston is on one knee at the ropes by MJF's corner. He looks back, seeing his opponent prone, and knows this could be his golden opportunity. He moves to his feet... and is tripped up by Hager as he turns to head over to MJF! The fans are booing heavily as the official is distracted by MJF's condition. Hager pulls Kingston out of the ring and tries to send him into the steel ring steps, but Kingston plants his feet and catches Hager with a big elbow to the gut, followed by some chops. Turnabout is fair play; he sends Hager into the steps! Kingston heads over to pull him up just in time for the official to see Hager connect with a low blow on the outside! The official has half a mind to call for the DQ right there, but knowing Eddie's reputation and the fact Hager was battling from the floor, he assumes Kingston provoked the attack and simply orders Hager to the back to a massive pop from the stands!
Phillips: Yes! Jake Hager gets his just desserts!
Graves: What are you talking about, Tom? Eddie picked that fight!
Hager is shouting and screaming as he rounds the ring, the official tracking him. But that means the official is too distracted to have seen MJF roll out of the ring and crawl to the timekeeper's area. Kingston finally catches on and moves over to address the champion, but when he does, he catches a facefull of UWF Intercontinental Championship on the outside! Kingston hits the floor with a thud, his bell well and truly rung as he starts to bleed, too. MJF smirks, tossing the evidence back to the timekeeper before grabbing the challenger and throwing him unceremoniously into the ring. Kingston's all dead weight, and MJF makes the cover.
1...
2...
...3!
DING DING DING!
Here is your winner, and STILL
UWF INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION:
MAXWELL JACOB FRIEDMAN!
Graves: He told him. He told Eddie Kingston that he wasn't going to win and now he's come through on that promise and there's nothing anyone can do about it. AND STILL!
Phillips: If MJF is happy with that win, then he's a different man than many people in the back. He stole this win.
Ranallo: By hook or by crook, he got it done, and that's surely enough for him.
The fans are booing as Friedman holds his title and mugs for the hard cam. It looks like things have all come up Maxwell. But then...
"Jane" hits the soundsystem and the fans pop in a big way as the one, the only, the incomparable, "Freshly Squeezed" emerges from the back, still in his ring gear from his earlier contest, backpack slung over a shoulder. He simply stands at the top of the ramp, looking down at the champion, smirking a confident smirk. And then he throws up his signature, half-assed thumbs up.
Phillips: And that, right there, might be the man that ends the Intercontinental Champion's reign. Orange Cassidy, fresh off his first Prime Time defense, has just two more to go before he can cash it in.
Graves: Yeah, that's if he doesn't slack his way to a loss or, more likely, get busted for whatever performance-enhancing substance he puts in his OJ before then.
The fans are buzzing as Cassidy just stays there, staring down the champ, who by now is on his feet and holding the title over his head as the show moves along.
As there’s a break in the action, things head to an area of the backstage where UWF Hall of Famer Stone Cold Steve Austin is standing with a beer in hand. He’s looking at someone that isn’t in the shot as he takes a drink of his beer.
Stone Cold: So let ol’ Stone Cold get this straight. You want his help finding a sumbitch that he can’t even see because he’s invisible.
The camera pans out to show a familiar face.
Jones: Correct.
Stone Cold: How in the blue hell do you expect me ta’ do that?
Jones: Look, Steve, I’ve spent enough lonely nights chasing the bottom of a bottle to know that once you get enough liquid courage in you, you can do extraordinary things that a sober person can’t do. And I’m willing to bet that one of those things is see invisible people!
There’s a moment of silence between the two.
Stone Cold: Alright, kid, ya seem ta’ be pretty damn flustered about this character so Stone Cold’ll give it a go!
Austin finishes his beer and discards the can over his shoulder as he leaves the shot. Jones bends down to pick up the can when a voice he knows too well speaks to him.
McCallahan: Well isn't this rich. I can tomorrow's headline now - Godfather of Cutthroat Journalism Outsources Fruitless Investigation to Sport's Most Beloved Drunk.
Scoops McCallahan swipes her hand through the air to illustrate the point. Stone Cold gives her the up-down cause he's checking her out. J.J. gives her the up-down like she's a trash can full of garbage he forgot to take to the curb on time.
Jones: Scoops. So nice of you to climb down off scarlet coloured beast, full of names of blasphemy, having seven heads and ten horns to join us. You're always so helpful.
McCallahan: Is that a Biblical reference, Jones? Are you so desperate you're asking the almighty for help now, too?
Jones: Sorry - I should have guessed you'd feel belittled by someone being more well-read than you. Maybe if you aimed a little higher than vanity searching twitter while you're taking your legendary dumps you'd have an easier time conversing with intellectuals like me and -
On cue, Moondog LeCavlier arrives on the scene. He's totting two buckets that are filled to the brim with... something...
LeCavlier: I got the slime buckets!
The acrid green slop isn't without its suspicious chunks. It reeks like a July crime scene and has the consistency of fishery unmentionables. Everyone pulls a face, but none of them moreso than the Texas Rattlesnake.
Stone Cold: Son... I'm gonna need you to stay the hell away from me with whatever the hell that is.
LeCavlier: Oh this?
Moondog lifts the buckets up to head level - able to tolerate the stank by way of overexposure.
LeCavlier: This is the answer to a year's worth of mystery, intrigue, sabotage and frustration! It has everything we need - liquidity, stickiness and stench. Do you have any idea how hard it is to wash this gunk off once it gets on your skin? Green Peace volunteers have an easier time scrubbing down oil-soaked seabirds and otters after a Tanker tips in the ocean. We pour some of this on to Invisible Stan, and not only will we finally be able to see his outline, we'll be able to smell him coming and going!
Jones: It's genius.
McCallahan: Yeah, well, you still gotta find him first, morons.
Jones: That's why we're pulling out the big guns, you gap-tooth slut. We've got the one and only Stone Cold Steve -
Before he can finish the thought, Austin waves him off.
Stone Cold: You better go on ahead and count ol' Stone Cold outta any plan than involves that sewer juice.
As Stone Cold walks away, Jones looks to follow after but Moondog stops him and gestures to one of the buckets.
LeCavlier: It’s bubbling.
Suddenly another familiar face pops out of the bucket covered in the slime within.
Carumba: Eww, I definitely should’ve chosen a better place to appear from! I’ve got this slime all over my new braces and glasses!
Rhino storms into the shot having heard the distressed words of his bride and is fuming at the journalists.
Jones: Please, God. Let me explain.
Rhino: Gore.
The camera shoots a slime soaked Carumba and a concerned looking Scoops and Moondog as they watch the ruckus that can be heard in front of them but offscreen.
LeCavlier: As a friend I feel obligated to help, but as a journalist I'm couldn't possibly intervene.
Heath Slater walks over from wherever he was with a flier in hand.
Slater: Hey ya'll, get a load of this - I just saw this lil ol' poster on the wall sayin' that next month there's gonna be an Invisible People's Visibility March and get this - its in the same town as Final Battle! I know much ya'll like to talk about insvisi -
McCallahan: What? Let me see that!
Scoops cuts Heath off and snatches the flier from his hand to read and learn more. "Rude", he mutters under his breath while also the beatdown continues tangentially offscreen. Before Scoops can get too many details, though, Yikes snags the piece of paper from her and uses it to wipe herself clean.
Carumba: There! Much better!
McCallahan: Damnit, Yikes! We need -
Carumba: Wait... my braces are tingling! I can feel a RUMOR coming on!
Yikes rubs her braces sensually. Her eyes roll back into her skull and her voice drops an octave with the prophecy of some hot gos.
Carumba: DID YOU KNOW THAT UWF'S LATEST SIGNEE HAS BEEN SEEING SOME BACKLASH IN HIS PERSONAL LIFE? WHILE THE BRASH KING OF WHITE TRASH IN ON TRACK TO CLASH WITH THE IRISH BRASS, SOURCES REPORT HE'S CONTRACTED A NASTY BACK RASH - POSSIBLEY AN ALLERGIC REACTION TO USING A DASH OF CHEAP HASH IN HIS BANGERS AND MASH. ONE SOURCE CLOSE TO THE WALL STREET MOGUL INDICATED THAT HE'S BEEN STRAPPED FOR CASH AND -
Scoops grabs her by the shoulders and shakes some sense into her.
McCallahan: Snap out of it tedious bottom feeder. We don't have time for this!
Yikes is stirred from her trance, but as usual, immediately pulls out her phone to start tweeting about her premonition - before that, though, she tosses the crumpled-up, slime-stained flier over her shoulder absentmindedly.
LeCavlier: Somebody catch that flier!
Somebody does! And you'll never guess who!
Everyone Together: NICHOLAS!
Oh man! It's just that snot-nosed kid Nicholas who thinks he's so friggin cool. The little twerp turns straight to the hard cam and delivers his trademark zinger...
Nicholas: Nobody at school is gonna believe this on Monday!
McCallahan: Give up the flier, kid.
Slater: I've got kids...
Nicholas looks from one of them to the other, then down at the flier, then back at everyone else. You can see the gears turning behind those beady little eyes.
LeCavlier: Don't you dare do it, young man.
McCallahan: I swear to God if you -
Nicholas shoves the flier in his house and starts chewing on it like a guinea pig! Moondog dang near faints from the shock of it all. Scoops dives towards him to pry it from his disgusting little mouth but he makes a run for it.
McCallahan: Somebody stop that kid!
The gang chases after him but he's already got a head start and also he's on the track team this year so it'll be hard to keep up.
Nicholas: You’ll never catch me, nerds!
Suddenly Nicholas is knocked down. As the gang screeches to a halt, the man that knocked him down is standing there with a baseball bat in hand.
Sting: School’s out, Nicholas.
Nicholas: Oooowwwwww... my cereberal development hurts...
Willfully ignoring the youthful concussion, the gang cheers and a couple of the guys even pat Sting on the back as Scoops and the others uncrumple the poster and do the best they can to read what’s left of it.
McCallahan: Final Battle, here we come.
Invisible Stan: You fools! You'll never find me!
As the next destination is decided to try and catch the nefarious Invisible Stan, Backlash continues elsewhere.
A lone synthetetic violin whispers through the air like a pterodactyl 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... the Hollywood Champion, Kyle O'Reilly!
Our beloved Canuck's neck is has that Tinsel Town strap slung over his shoulder. His 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 his title belt like a 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.
The stadium erupts into a sea of green light, "Osaka" by Hella kicks in on the stadium soundsystem. An eerie fog begins to fill the stage as manic strobe lights flood the arena in an energy approximate to that of Ospreay's theme.
Tony Chimel:
"On his way to the ring, weighing in at 220 pounds. Fighting out of Rainham, England, he IS the Commonwealth Kingpin of the United Empire, The ASSASSIN, WILL OSPREAY!"
Will Ospreay comes out from the back with his usual getup but he's got one arm across his stomach with his ribs taped up, clearly feeling the effects of getting involved with Edge's match earlier in the night. The fans reach their hands out in hopes of getting to touch the Commonwealth Kingpin but he makes sure no one lays a finger on him as he stares down O'Reilly. He climbs into the ring and removes his jacket and prepares for the match.
DING DING DING
Ospreay looks at Kyle while holding his ribs, still clearly feeling the effects after getting involved in Sami Zayn's match with Edge earlier in the night. Kyle don't care though, he wants to rip this dude to pieces. He comes over and charges Will into the corner and gives him a few Shoulder Thrusts just to dish out more damage to the ribs. He then whips him to the other side of the ring so hard that Ospreay hits the corner and falls to all fours. O'Reilly comes over and gives him a swift kick to the ribs that cause him to yell out in pain and roll to the outside of the ring.
Corey Graves: That loser Kyle knows he can't win on his own so he's going to take the low road and attack an injury. We don't even know the severity of that injury. He could have broken ribs!
Tom Phillips: Well it's his own fault for getting involved with Sami Zayn's match with Edge.
Corey Graves: All he was doing was cheering on his friend and mentor. There's nothing wrong with that. He didn't deserve to be Speared through a barricade.
Bayley points and laughs in his face while Kyle comes out. Hew goes to stay on the attack but Ospreay turns around and blasts him in the face with the Silent Whisper! He looks at Bayley and tells her to fuck off. Finally someone who isn't a creep towards his sister so I guess we call that progression. He picks up Kyle and throws him back into the ring. O'Reilly lays in the middle of the ring and so Ospreay springboards in and hits the Firebird Splash! He sits up on his knees holding his stomach but he goes for the pin right awayy
1 . . .
2 . . .
O'Reilly kicks out! Ospreay gets back to his feet and picks up Kyle. The Diabetic Dragon punches him in the ribs and the Aerial Assassin hurries over to the corner to get away. Kyle comes up on him and starts going to town with open body shots like he's Rocky punching meat. Ospreay's saving grace comes in the form of the ref who counts to 4 and pulls Kyle off of him. O'Reilly ignores him and goes to move back in on the attack but he ends up on the wrong end of a Roundhouse Kick right to the ear! Kyle falls to a knee and Ospreay grabs him lifting him up into a Falcon Arrow into the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
O'Reilly kicks out!
Corey Graves: Despite clearly not being at 100%, Will Ospreay still has more than enough to keep that goof on the losing end.
Mauro Ranallo: Look, Will is a phenomenal athlete but this match has just started.
Corey Graves: Well to me, it looks like it could be ending soon. I'm honestly surprised Kyle's lasted this long.
Will knows that he's not i the best shape right now so he decides to back up to the ropes. Kyle is on his hands and knees and pushes himself up onto his knees. Ospreay moves in for the Hidden Blade but Kyle drops down and Will slides right past him. Kyle pops up right away and wraps himself around will like a spider monkey and gets him in a Sleeper Hold. Will throws his arms out, trying to use them to grab at at anything but Kyle leans back and has him unable to get anywhere close to the ropes. Ospreay tries to maybe flip over to pin Kyle's shoulders to the mat but O'Reilly's legs are wrapped around him.
Tom Phillips: Looks like all the momentum of this match changed just like that.
Corey Graves: C'mon Young Willy, I know Zayn's taught you some way to get out of this.
With not much to do to get out of this, Ospreay opts to fight dirty and pulls on Kyle's arm that's not around his neck and brings it to his mouth where he can chomp right down on it like it were his favorite biscuit. Kyle let's go of the hold and kicks Ospreay away and rushes back to his feet. He's not gonna stand for that shit. He runs right at Ospreay as he's getting to his feet and levels him with the Harpoon Torpedo! It looks like the lights go out in the Assassin's head but Kyle brings him right back up and gives him a Murder in the Sky Over Burnaby! He makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Ospreay kicks out! Kyle grabs his arm and flips him onto his stomach. He puts his arm behind his back and does a handstand on it to gain some momentum for a knee right to the ribs! Ospreay rolls away right away and starts gritting his teeth in pain. He scoots himself over to the corner but can't find the strength to pull himself up. The Canadian Psycho is seeing red and he gives him the Surrey Shot Caller to the chest! He drags Ospreay out of the corner and hooks the leg for the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Ospreay kicks out!
Mauro Ranallo: O'Reilly really is the Swiss Army Knife of professional wrestling. He can end a match with strikes, submissions or just a good old fashioned wrestling maneuver. You never know what tool he's going to pull out next.
Corey Graves: In theory yes. He may be a jack of all trades but he's a master of none. It's handy to diversify but when you need a crowbar or a hammer, it's best to just get those weapons rather than have all these little tools.
Tom Phillips: That's... actually a good argument.
O'Reilly picks up Ospreay and rubs his thumb across his throat, calling for the end. He lifts Ospreay up for Point Break but the Commonwealth Kingpin flips over and lands on his feet. Kyle turns around but eats a 540 Kick to the side of the head! O'Reilly goes out like a light and falls flat on his face. Will could go for the pin here but he knows Kyle's a fighter he flips him over onto his back and drags him to the corner. He exits out onto the apron and climbs to the top rope. Bayley yells at him, trying to give a distraction but Will ain't giving this woman the time of day. He comes off with a devastating 630 Splash! He hold his ribs and bites down but leans back to make the pin.
1 . . .
2 . . .
O'Reilly gets the shoulder up at 2!
Mauro Ranallo: A bit of a lackadaisical cover there might have just cost Ospreay the match.
Corey Graves: You try extending out to grab a leg when you probably got broken ribs.
Mauro Ranallo: I wasn't criticizing, just an observation.
Will gives the ref a look but deep down he knows it was his fault. He rises back to a vertical base and grabs Kyle by his beard hair and tells him some trash we can't hear. He slaps Kyle across the face and we certainly hear that. Kyle gets pissed but Will just keeps slapping him across the face. O'Reilly then unloads with a bunch of Forearm shots, backing Will into the corner where he gives him a few more. He then walks to the opposite corner and comes rushing back with the Speed Wolf Annihilator! He then tosses Ospreay out of the corner and he rolls forward into a seated position. Kyle runs past him and hits the ropes only to come back with an Orange Slice! Who does he think he is, Orange Cassidy? He makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Ospreay kicks out! Kyle gets to his feet and brings his hands to his face to summon the Dragonzord.
Mauro Ranallo: Pour one out for Jason David Frank.
Corey Graves: Who?
Tom Phillips: The green Power Ranger.
Corey Graves: You see, this is why I can't take Kyle O'Reilly seriously. He idolizes these childhood heroes still rather than learning to be better than them.
Mauro Ranallo: Nothing wrong with paying tribute to the greats.
Corey Graves: He's not a wrestler! The Power Rangers also aren't real people!
Ospreay is slowly getting to his feet with the help of the ropes. Kyle comes up behind him and goes to put him in the Full Nelson but Will pops his hips back to create some distance. He jumps onto the middle rope and goes for the Oscutter but Kyle catches him and transitions it into a Dragon Sleeper! Unfortunately he doesn't take long for Ospreay to get a knee up and smash Kyle in the face with it. O'Reilly stumbles into the corner and Ospreay runs at him and delivers a Helluva Kick! Ospreay throws Kyle down t the mat and this time hooks the leg for the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
But Kyle O'Reilly kicks out!
Mauro Ranallo: Ospreay just kicked the taste out of Kyle's mouth but it wasn't enough!
Corey Graves: I think Ospreay needs a little bit more training before mastering the true power behind the Helluva Kick but it was a good shot.
Ospreay throws his hands out and then grabs Kyle from behind as he's trying to getup. He reaches around him to grab his wrist and spins him out with the ripcord. He goes to pull him in but Kyle instead levels him with a Jumping Knee Strike to the face! Will falls forward but Kyle goes underneath him to catch him on his back. He then goes round and round in an Airplane Spin! The fans are counting each rotation, poorly of course until Kyle spins him out into the Velocicopter! He goes for the cover!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Ospreay gets the shoulder up at 2! Kyle ends up climbing on top of him in the full mount where he starts dropping down Palm Strikes to the face. Ospreay isn't covering up and it looks like the ref might actually call it but Kyle lifts himself up slightly and grabs the arm and rolls over onto his back to put Ospreay in a Triangle Choke!
Mauro Ranallo: If Ospreay wasn't already out from those blows to the head then this might just do it.
Ospreay suddenly comes to life now that his ability to breath is being squeezed out of him. He goes to try and powerbomb Kyle but his core is far too injured get Kyle more than an inch off the ground. He goes to flip over to pin his opponents shoulders to the mat but O'Reilly moves with him and essentially just rolls back into position. Will does it again and this time however his feet make it to the ropes to break the hold. Kyle releases it and gets back to his feet while Ospreay rolls out onto the apron. Kyle reaches over the ropes and picks him back up, getting ready to Suplex him back into the ring but Will bring down a knee to the top of his head causing him to retreat. The Assassin springboards into the ring and levels Kyle with the Pip Pip Cheerio! He makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
Kyle kicks out! Ospreay ends up stomping down hard onto Kyle's midsection causing him to sit up. He backs away and readies the Hidden Blade. He runs forward but stops just short of connecting because O'Reilly lays back down to avoid it. Ospreay instead just stomps down on his face and Kyle rolls away to the corner. He's seated in the corner and so Ospreay goes to go get him. Kyle kicks up and nails him right in the gut causing him to walk away. The Canadian Psycho pulls himself up to standing and walks over to Will. He lifts him up for a Back Suplex but Ospreay flips over and grabs a hold of Kyle's head as he's coming down. He's got him in an inverted headlock and lifts him up and spins for the Chelsea Grin to the back of the head! Kyle falls to his knees but stays upright. Ospreay backs up and then comes forward with the Hidden Blade to the back of the head! He makes the pin!
1 . . .
2 . . .
3 . . .
But O'Reilly kicks out just in time!
Mauro Ranallo: Kyle o'Reilly is that man!
Tom Phillips: I think that's the first time someone has kicked out of the Hidden Blade.
Corey Graves: He's just lucky Willy wasn't at 100% coming into this match otherwise this would have been over a long time ago.
Ospreay picks Kyle up right away in the double underhooks and is able to throw him over his shoulder in position for the Stormbreaker. Kyle however is able to unhook an arm and swings over to drop Ospreay to the mat, trying to put him in the Vanilla Bar! Kyle tries kicking at him to break his grip and help extend the arm but Ospreay rolls to his feet. Rather then go for a powerbomb or something, he instead just stomps down on O'Reilly's face but Kyle just eats it. Ospreay stomps on his face a few more times but it's like Kyle's possessed. He wants that arm and bah gawd he's gonna get it. Ospreay instead is able to drag Kyle closer to the ropes to force him to break the hold.
Kyle keeps a hold of him until the ref counts to 4 before letting go. He rushes back to his feet while Ospreay walks to the center of the ring. Kyle comes right back at him and Ospreay goes for a Roundhouse Kick but Kyle ducks it and kicks his calf, jumping up with a Thai Knee Lift and then sweeps his feet out from under him with a Leg Sweep! He's feeling it and Ospreay turns over to get up. Kyle gives him the Axe and Smash combination and will looks out on his feet. Kyle lifts him in the air for a Brainbuster but Ospreay counters it into a Corkscrew Falling Stunner! Kyle pops up from the impact and weakly swings his arms out like he's punching but there's no power behind them. Ospreay runs to the ropes and springboards off them for the OsCutter! Unfortunately Kyle catches him in mid air somehow and delivers the Blue Eyes Diabetic Dragon!
1 . . .
2 . . .
3 . . .
Tony Chimel: Here is your winner, Kyle O'Reilly!
Mauro Ranallo: It looks like Kyle O'Reilly was running on pure instinct right there.
Corey Graves: This would have been a much different match had Osspreay-
Tom Phillips: Yeah yeah yeah we heard you say it all match long. O'Reilly deserves this victory and I look forward to seeing what's next for him going forward.
Bayley comes into the ring and helps lift Kyle up. She walks over to Ospreay and throws up an L on her forehead over him. Kyle tries to tell her that's not necessary and the duo head to the back as the show moves on.
”Can the Backlash participants come out to play?”
Four shark cages - which is to say - cages for people to avoid sharks - have been lowered just outside the corners of the ring. There's an eerie cobalt spotlight shining down on each of them to set the mood while the rest of the arena goes dark. The fans are buzzing. Its main event time, baybay.
The speed metal riffage of WOLF's 'Shark Attack' 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. The Number One Contender is soon joined by his brothers in arms. First, the Wee Chancer from The Tap End of Stevenston...
And then from above, by way of Tazarn rope, Captain Paul Burchill!
The capacity crowd in Brooklyn goes bonkers for the C.U.N.T. - one of the UWF's oldest and most esteemed institutions. The dynamic and unique marches down to the ring with Grado playing it up for the fans and Paul Burchill "yarring" and "arring" like nobody's business. Shark Boy is as focused in as he's ever been ahead of this massive title tilt where the stakes couldn't be higher.
They hit the squared circle in no time. The Referee tells the cornermen to head to their cages, but they ain't about to get locked up until they've seen Lee's goons get the same treatment, refusing to let their fellow Councilor be outnumbered like that. The Official lets it go, and soon enough, the other team arrives on the scene...
For a few seconds, all is silent in the arena, as the lights dim into darkness. The fans are left with nothing to see, nothing to feel but anticipation...and as a technological-sounding tune begins, a lone spotlight shines down on the entrance ramp, paving the way for an opening to form, and for one man to rise from beneath.
Coming from his own domain, the UWF World Heavyweight Champion has his arms outstretched, his attire bathed in white, with flowing robes of purity having been donned by the one and only God of Professional Wrestling...
As the build finally comes to a close, with a much more energetic beat forming...and as soon as those first words sound out?[
"THE ROAD I WALK IS PAVED IN GOLD"
"TO GLORIFY MY PLATINUM SOUL"
THAT is finally what begins the entrance of the World Heavyweight Champion.
With God having emerged from beneath the stage, He walks on with a massive grin on his face, all while showcasing just what he had taken back at Wrestlemania: The UWF World Heavyweight Championship. Proudly showcasing His Harlan Gold to those around him, Mister Trevor Lee would take their hatred, their vitriol and their disdain by simply turning the other cheek, just as his fellow Gods have taught him.
Even then, though, Lee would know that he still isn't done. There still is a match to be won, and a performance to be delivered upon these future devotees, so for now, He hops onto the apron of the ring, holds up the UWF World Heavyweight Championship with one arm, and with the other? Two fingers are extended, as He looks to bring himself right back...
"TO THE MOON!"
Sure enough, "The Butcher" Andy Williams and "The Prophet" Lance Cade aren't far behind. The gave the Mayor a wide berth on account of this man has a gravity unto himself, but join him in the ring with the others before too long.
There's a big ol', nasty ol' stare down between opposing forces up there in that ring. For a moment, it seems like maybe it'll all just spill over right then in there into a wild brawl. But nah. Not tonight. It Champion and Challenger who talk their respective units down, insisting they want to handle this on their own.
Without ever taking their untrusting eyes off their counterparts, Harlan's Most Righteous and the Nomadic Talent go to their cages. They got locked up inside and then elevated high above the ring. Then - and only then - does the Master of Ceremonies, Mr. Tony Chimel, step through the ropes to get this thing going.
Chimel: The following contest is your Main Event of the evening - and is a No Holds Barred Match the UWF Championship! Andy Williams, Lance Cade, Paul Burchill and Grado will all be suspended twenty feet above the ring in Shark Cages. Should Shark Boy lose, he will also forfeit his mask.
The crowd - who was hyped on the gimmick until that final note, boos the very idea of seeing their hero unmasked. Tony, meanwhile, gets back to announcing.
Chimel: Introducing first - The Challenger - from the Deep Blue Sea, weighing in at 205 pounds... Shark Boy!
The fans are back cheering again while SB throws his arms up in the air like he do. Tony then gestures towards the other man.
Chimel: And his opponent, from his mayoral residency in Harlan, Kentucky, weighing in at 220 lbs...he is THE REIGNING AND DEFENDING UWF CHAMPION...'Mister' Trevor Lee!
Jeers and nothing but jeers for the Mayor. Lee isn't focused on that, though. He's fixated on the Contender, who's staring right back at him.
Tony steps through the ropes and goes to his seat. The Official takes one last look up at the Shark Cages, then after making sure both men are ready to compete, he calls for the bell.
VS
DING DING
The fans are already going bananas and nothing's even happened yet. They can't decide on a standard "SHARK BOY" chant, a pre-emptive "THIS IS AWESOME" one or any number of disparaging taunts directed at the Champ. It's a gosh dang cacophony in the arena - a blur of aggressive sounds surrounding the battle field. From the prison cells hanging around the ring, each of teammates (save for The Butcher) offers up some encouragement and advice of their own. All that noise is lost on the competitors, though.
Champion and Challenger are fixed and focused on each other and nothing else. They ain't glaring. They ain't scowling. They ain't even mean-mugging. No these? These are the looks that kill. Lee wants to eradicate everything about his opponent - his status as a Contender, his identity as a Superstar, and most of all, his hope.. Shark Boy, on the other fin, isn't gonna stop pounding on the man who knocked him off the throne at Wrestlemania until he feels the fight leave his body entirely. If becoming the first ever two-time UWF Champion of the Revolution Era means sending Trevor Lee back to Harlan in the back of a long, black car, then that's a price he's happy to pay.
Ranallo: Gentlemen, we've seen our share of classic pro-wrestling bouts for the UWF Championship over the years - I doubt this match will be anything close to that. This is going to get ugly fast.
Phillips: Shark Boy has a chance to make history tonight -
Graves: Whereas Trevor Lee can erase any of the doubt about his being a Wrestling God by beating the next best guy on the roster for the second consecutive time.
Lee takes a few steps ahead like he's planning on circling around the perimeter of the ring. He's a snake, though, and with an abrasive serpentine switch in direction, he alters course and lunges at his opponent. Its zero-to-sixty in an instant, his placid demeanor lifting like a carnival curtain to reveal the freakshow behind it.
Shark Boy isn't surprised. He isn't caught off guard or thrown off balance. Lee charges at him and is greeted with the nasty end of SB's boot. The Shellraiser plants his size-twelve straight in the bread basket of Trevor, knocking the wind clear out of his sails. Lee coughs hard, immediately out of breath and stunned.
The Challenger capitalizes in a flash...
Wheeling around...
Hooking the chin...
Delivering a picture-perfect, on-the-money, thoroughly-devastating Chummer!
Ranallo: MAMA MIA!
Graves: WHAT THE HELL?!?!?
Phillips: CHUMMER! CHUMMER! SHARK BOY HIT THE CHUMMER!
The roof blows off the building. The fans are unhinged. This is it. That was it. Its over already.
Lee snaps back like an elastic band, the drop-and-pop sending him straight The Land of Wind and Ghosts. As he springs off Shark Boy's sheer-dropped shoulder blade, his eyes roll back into his head like a corpse. His body is at the whim of momentum and gravity, unable to resist or work with either force with no pilot at the wheel.
The impact has him tumbling towards the ropes. The UWF Universe groans, anticipating what's coming next. Lee's gonna roll to the floor and avoid getting pinned and -
NO! Shark Boy dives over and catches him before he can fall outside the squared circle! The people's faith is restored! The fans are up on their feet, screaming and cheering and jumping and losing their collective minds! Grado and Captain Paul are hootin' and hollerin' up on their cage while the most loyal goons in Harlan are rocking their cages back and forth like angry zoo gorillas, hoping to break free so they can save The Mayor from such an embarrasing defeat. It's useless. Those Shark Cages aren't going anywhere.
Just below them all, Shark Boy pulls Trevor Lee away from the apron. The Referee drops down to count the pin that will crown him as Champion on Revolution for the second time...
1...
Ranallo: Shark Boy is the man who stole the world!
Phillips: We've never seen anything like this! Its unbelievable!
2...
The Ref pulls up millimeters from the canvas - milliseconds away from that third, definitive count. The air is sucked out of the arena. Fifteen thousand off fans go silent for just a moment, and then the boos start. Shark Boy looks up, wondering what the shell is happening. And then he sees it...
Trevor Lee reaching out like God in Michelangelo's famous painting The Creation of Adam, the outstretched tip of his index finger just barely caressing the bottom rope.
Graves: Do you believe in miracles yet?
Ranallo: I don't know what else you could even call it, Corey. But Trevor Lee is still in this thing. It might be too little to late, but hasn't lost yet.
Shark Boy shakes his head, fuming. He pounds his fist into the mat then swats Lee's hand off the rope in frustration. The mood in the arena simmers back down to rolling boil as the fans take their seats. Hope isn't lost yet, just dinged up. Shark Boy has some work to do and they still believe he has what it takes to do it.
The Challenger stands tall, taking a look out around at the people, sharing a moment of solidarity for their support - perhaps a hint of mourning for what almost just was, and then he gets right back to work. Scraping the battered body of Lee up off the canvas, he immediately disposes of the dead weight by torpedoing the Mayor clear through the middle and top cables. Trevor crashes off the hard, metal rim of the apron on his way down to the arena floor. He lands with a thud, still so barely conscious that he does nothing to brace himself for the fall.
Lance Cade has some choice words for Shark Boy about that kinda treatment of a Wrestling God. Shark Boy digs the blasphemy hole just a bit deeper by flipping the big man off, then steps through the ropes and hops down to join his opponent on the outside.
When Lee lifts his head up off the floor - showing just the faintest sign of recovery - SB gives him a boot wash, scraping the sole right across the mush. That knocks the Champ right back down again, but the Shellraiser doesn't leave him lying for long. Once again helping his foe to his feet, the C.U.N.T member proceeds to drag Trevor along by the scruff of the neck, grinding his cheek along the top of the barricade as he goes.
Of course, the fans eat it up when the action gets all close and personal like that. A few of the more enthusiastic front row'ers reach out to high-five Shark Boy, but he shirks the advances. Beloved babyface though he may be, he's in the danger zone right now. Buddy's on another planet - Planet Death, where they take no prisoners and make no friends now that he's looking to finish off The Mayor for good. He's hitting another gear.
All that ripping and tearing at Trevor's face gets his nerves fired back up. He musters up the wherewithal to fight back some, pawing at Shark Boy's grip so he can break loose. Lee manages to get free, but maybe that's just some catch-and-release by the Contender cause right after he pops his head out, SB whips around and blasts him across the other side of the head with a Discuss Lariat that sends the Champion right over the barricade.
Ranallo: The action just left the ringside area. We're going to next some more security out here STAT!
Graves: Shark Boy is trying to his best to prove he's every bit the scumbag Trevor Lee warned us he was.
Phillips: Are you kidding? Trevor Lee is as dirty as dirty gets. I've lost count of how many lines he's crossed and how many times he's gone too far to get his hands on that Championship and keep it. Whatever's happening to him now is just karma.
The fans clear out when Lee spills into those first few rows of chairs. Shark Boy shoos a few of the lingering marks away as they whip out their phones to get some choice footage. He then grabs Trevor by the head and yanks him to a vertical base, looking like he intends to suplex him back over the guard rail and towards the ring.
As he pulls up, however, the Mayor of Harlan grabs on to a nearby fan to weigh himself down. Shark Boy's efforts are stymied. He tries again but Lee counters with a headbutt to create some space, then snags a beer from another audience member and throws what's left in the cup right into his Challenger's eyes.
Phillips: What did I tell you?!?
Graves: It looked to me like that loyal fan offered their drink to The Mayor. I'm sure it was their honour.
Ranallo: At thirteen bucks a cup, its a heck of a sacrifice to the Wrestling God.
Shark Boy recoils as he rubs the alcohol from his eyes. Except as we all learned in science class, you're not supposed to rub, you're supposed to rinse and blink. So actually he's just making it worse.
Trevor scrambles back over the barricade kind awkward like on account of he's still hurting lots. He looks a bit dizzy on his feet, but Shark Boy is so friggin compromised that he's got a few seconds to get his bearings before continuing on the offensive uninterrupted.
Lee's next move is to bash the Contender over the back with a pair of forearm clubs to soften him up. That knocks SB down a peg, but there's still more work to do. Grabbing him by the tights and collar, Trevor acts like he's about to whip him headlong into the steel steps, then changes course last-minute and slams him back down in the other direction so he flat-backs right on to the arena floor, the sudden jolt in moving the other way messing the guy up just that much more. The Champ then takes a page out of his opponent's book and kicks him across the face, earning a whole new wave of boos from the capacity crowd. Only Lance Cade can be heard singing him praises among all the slander. Andy Williams looks like he approves, too. I think. Hard to read that guy, to be honest. Very stoic. Quite stern.
Anyway, Trevor takes a few more moments to catch his breath and then pulls Shark Boy up again, this time guiding him around the ring towards the commentary side.
Phillips: Uh oh... this is getting a bit too close for comfort.
Ranallo: I keep asking EC3 if we can set up our commentary table on the stage instead of right here, but he just keeps shooting me down.
Graves: How could we give up the best seats in the house, Mauro? Every schlub in the world has to dish out big money just to get this close to the Wrestling God, whereas we're actually getting paid to be here!
Phillips: Wait... you guys are getting paid for this?
With Shark Boy in tow, Trevor Lee passes right by the commentators en route to the timekeeper's area. He drapes the Contender over their little barricade then goes around to grab himself a steel chair, which he then sets up right beside Shark Boy. After keeping him loosey goosey with a stiff right to the jaw, the Mayor then seats down his rival right there in that chair and tells him to "Sit down and stay a lil' while" before he backs away as far as he possibly can while maintaining a straight line.
With thousands of folks jeering all around him, Lee still finds it within himself to crack a wry smile just as he takes off to deliver a shotgun dropkick to his seated opponent. He launches himself into the air like a cannonball, boots out in front of him, barreling forward fast and furious.
Shark Boy dives out of the way in the knick of time! Lee hits nothing but chair! The fans pop big when he gets all tangled and mangled on the way down while the Shellraiser crawls towards the ring apron so he can use it to help himself back to his feet.
Phillips: Close call for Shark Boy! And just like that, Lee gives up his momentum.
Ranallo: These two superstars have spent a lot of time in that ring together, and likely a whole lot more studying tape. They know one another's move sets well. That's the second time tonight that Shark Boy has been able to catch Lee rushing in. Trevor can't afford to be predictable.
Graves: How dare you speak about the Wrestling God like that, Mauro. Even a broken clock is right twice a day. There's only so many times Shark Boy can get lucky before it catches up with him.
Standing again, Shark Boy takes a quick sec to shake the cobwebs and get some air back in those lungs. He doesn't give up a ton of time recuperating - there's a title win. The Challenger heads on over towards Lee, who is atop a heap of scrap metal that used to be a spare chair. Trevor is moaning and groaning on the ground, nursing no specific part of himself in particular on account of it all hurts pretty bad right now.
SB bends down to grab his opponent, who chooses that exact moment to spring into action like a mouse trap. Seizing a jagged piece of the chair that used to be one of the legs until it snapped off, Lee stabs that thing right into the Shark Boy's thigh! The fans gasp at that hardcore prison stuff.
Phillips: Trevoe Lee just stabbed Shark Boy in the leg with that leg!
Ranallo: If that hit his femoral artery, he's in serious trouble.
Shark Boy curses like nobody's business as he stumbles back, clutching at the entry point. While he's wondering whether he should take it out or leave it in - a dilemma clouded by all the agony he's in - Lee capitalizes by clamoring up and then nailing a low drop kick on the injured limb.
The dropkick turns SB inside out and he lands real ugly on the floor. The shank in his leg twists after banging off the floor, and you know that's gotta smart something fierce. Trevor yanks himself back up with an assist from the ring apron and then pulls Shark Boy up as well to roll him under the ropes back into the ring. Following him inside, The Mayor proceeds to roll him over for a pin attempt...
1...
Shark Boy shoves him off after one just so he can go back to clutching his leg pain. Blood is starting to seep out around the puncture in that dark shade that indicates a deep bleed. Gross.
Loyal Shark-O-Holics are shielding their eyes at the horrific sight of it all. Some concerned parents are escorting their screaming kids out of the arena, not wanting them to bear witness to such a gruesome affair. Cowards. But can you blame them? That S if F'd.
Lee turns up the heat. He grabs the boot on Shark Boy's bad leg with one hand and the protruding piece of metal with the other and uses those to drag his rival towards the corner. The Shellraiser is about ready to pass out from the pain. He's clawing at the canvas but Trevor ain't letting go until they reach the edge of the squared circle.
Once they are there, the Champion lifts the bad leg up to the height of the intersecting bottom ropes and then hooks the jagged piece of metal into the rungs holding the cables up. Its caught up in such a way that Shark Boy is stuck there now, unable to get his leg lifted and out with a bunch of twisting and lifting that would hurt a whole heck of a lot. Too match for a person to handle without fainting, probably.
Phillips: Trevor Lee is out of his mind. This is going way too far.
Graves: Shark Boy could tap out right now and put an end to this. Every second long he chooses to stay in this fight is on him.
Lee scales the corner post on rung at a time until he reaches the peak. Once there, he spins around and lines up his target in his sites. Without a moment of hesitation, he leaps off the top and comes down like a bolt of lightning right on to Shark Boy's already messed up leg, delivering his patented double-foot stomp.
The audience gasps in horror. The impact manages to rips Shark Boy's leg free off the impaling metal, but at the cost of massive, disgusting gouge that instantly starts bleeding buckets. Shark Boy cries out, enduring some of the worst pain he's ever felt in his life, and brother, that's saying something. He flops back towards the middle of the ring. Lee dives on top of him to make the cover...
1...
2...
Shark Boy gets a shoulder up, bucking the reigning, defending Champion off despite the serious injury he's sustained.
Ranallo: Shark Boy's leg is in dire condition. He needs immediate medical attention.
Graves: This is a No Holds Barred Match. The Referee couldn't stop it if he wanted to. If Trevor Lee has to drain every drop of blood from Shark Boy to end this feud, you had better believe that's how this is going to end.
Lee kneels over the howling Shark Boy, looking down at his hands that are drenched in his opponent's blood. He looks disgusted by it. Straight up revolted. The Mayor flicks off the excess liquid all over his downed foe in an attempt to cleanse himself.
Up above them both, Grado and Burchill are pleading with their fellow C.U.N.T. member to hold on - to stay in this thing - to find the strength to fight back again. They know he can do it. He's come back from the lowest of the lows before. But now as Lee stands up and towers over the Shellraiser, who might not even be able to walk, the Mayor's got the them and the rest of the world wondering if robbing Shark Boy of his mobility isn't tantamount to robbing him of all hope in this prize fight.
Trevor leans down and slaps SB across the back of the head. Twice. Then stands back up to boot him in the spine. He stomps on him. Spits on him. Kicks him again. Every condescending strike softens up the Contender who is trying his darndest to apply pressure to his leg so it will just stop bleeding. It won't.
Lee shakes his head, annoyed by the audacity. Locking is wrists around the torso of the downed challenger, the Wrestling God flexes some divine strength in deadlifting Shark Boy high into the air to execute a vicious powerbomb. As if that weren't enough, he follows up with a second deadlift to set up a delayed Cumberland German. The slow-motion execution makes it looks like it smarts even more than usual, and the bridge at the end of the rainbow is good for a pinfall...
1...
2...
Shark Boy rolls out to stave off defeat. That gives him some momentum to try getting to a vertical base, but his bad leg buckles under his whole body weight, leaving him at the perfect height for Trevor to blast him across the side of the head with a jumping high knee strike. The Shellraiser doesn't even have the chance to hit the mat as Lee scoops him up and whirls him around to deliver the Harlan Curse, serving up some sweet revenge on behalf of his hometown when he smashes SB's back against his shin.
The Champ lets the contender fall to the canvas from there before he shoots the half again...
1...
2...
The arena feels deflated despite Shark Boy kicking out. Things are looking grim.
Graves: Trevor Lee is brutalizing Shark Boy in there. The Contender can't even stand up and The Wrestling God is putting on a clinic.
Ranallo: One year ago, we saw Shark Boy lose at Backlash when he challenged Seth Rollins for the UWF Championship. There were those that wrote him off that night, and then again when he came up short against Edge in the King of the Ring tournament. But the Shellraiser would not go quite into that good night. He rallied and he raged against CM Punk. He beat Edge for the title and then he beat him again. He shut down a generational contender in Tommaso Ciampa and clear cut his way through the roster so that when Trevor Lee took the belt off him at Wrestlemania, the only question people were asking was "how long until Shark Boy shocks the world and does the impossible again?
This is a man who shatters expectations. He makes a mockery of the odds because there was never any smart money on the guy dressed like a Shark becoming one of the greatest professional wrestlers the UWF has ever seen. Given his track record, he is exactly the type of person to become the first two-time world champion on Revolution because he was exactly the type of person who already over-achieved despite being told he couldn't and shouldn't. He is the living embodiment of making good on hope.
Graves: But he's in that ring with a Wrestling God, Mauro, and the difference betwen hope and faith is certainty. I look at that ring right now and I can say with a certainty that Trevor Lee is the better man and he is leaving with that title tonight.
Though the fans are mortified they are bearing witness to the end of an era, the C.U.N.T boys are still cheering Shark Boy on whole-heartedly. This doesn't go unnoticed by Lee. In fact, its driving him crazy. He looks up at them shouting their cages as he stands up. Pointing at Grado, he then runs to the ropes, bounces off and creams the kneeling Shark Boy in the face with a Wee Boot, conjuring up a new round of cheers from the crowd. If that wasn't bad enough, he next shoots Captain Paul a scowl while he drags SB to up, grabs him like he's gonna do a sideslap, and then inverts polarities to slam him with the C4!
Phillips: The Mayor now mocking C.U.N.T. by stealing their signature maneuvers...
Graves: I think you meant to say "perfecting".
Rather than go for a pin and validate those slick looking moves, Lee opts to finish off whatever's left of SB with one of his own. Yet again, he marches towards the corner so he can climb the buckle. He's breathing heavy, huffing and puffing have expended a ton of energy dishing out all this offense. His is a slow climb, but why rush? Shark Boy isn't going anywhere. He's lying right there on the canvas, hardly conscious and bleeding out, right?
...
Right?
Wrong! Just as Lee makes it to the top rope, somehow, someway, Shark Boy springs back to life, getting on one leg and throwing himself into the cables to knock him of balance! The fans go ballistic!
Phillp[s: The Shellraiser still has some fight left in him! This ain't over yet!
Ranallo: Trevor Lee just landed where the sun don't shine - 20,000 leagues below the belt!
The Mayor's eyes cross, such is the pain from the tragic landing. Shark Boy keeps on leaning against those ropes for a sec then limps over to Lee. It takes a miraculous effort, but he manages to toss Lee right off that buckle with a biel throw so that he crashes into the mat.
Trevor bounces off the canvas, winded and dazed. He clutches at his ribs and his kidneys. Lance Cade curses the day SB was born. Shark Boy flips that sum bitch off about it then scales the buckle. Getting vertical has made him dizzy, but bah gawd, he doesn't need blood as much as he needs that belt back.
Lee slowly gets back to his feet, to dummied to know that he's being sized up for a kill shot by the Contender. Shark Boy gets himself as balanced as he can possibly be on the post, trying not to slip on the blood as he launches himself into the air...
And flips over...
And catches the neck...
And hits the Dead Sea Drop!
Ranallo: DEAD SEA DROP BY SHARK BOY!
Graves: No! That's... he can't...
Lee bearded chin smashes off of Shark Boy's shoulder when he connects with that sommersault Stunner. It send him into the friggin afterlife. He crumples like a napkin, all splayed out ready for the pin, and brother, Shark Boy is all over that.
The Shellraiser flops on top of the Mayor of Harlan and hooks a leg to become a UWF Chapmion all over again...
1...
2...
BOOT. TO. THE. HEAD.
Cade's.
To the Ref's.
To break the count.
Thrown down.
From the cage.
Followed by another.
And then belt.
And then his shirt.
Ranallo: No! That son of a gun Lance Cade just cost Shark Boy the win!
Graves: He's a loyal servant of the divine, Mauro! I for one admire is conviction.
Cade is going straight up psychotic as he's throwing anything and everything he can spare down through the bars at the Referee to mess with him. The Butcher is pulling at the bars on his own cage as he tries to break loose.
Of course this distraction has provoked the complete and total and utter animosity of the fans, who start to hurl garbage at the Harlan boy's cages. Cade and Butcher are pelted with popcorn and half-finished beverages as the scene devolves into chaos. Grado takes off his own boots to hurl at the villains, too.
Down below it all,, Shark Boy is spent and Trevor Lee is still alive, even if just barely.
They both lie in the ring for a long, long time. The Champion is probably concussed. He hasn't moved much since eating that Deep Sea Driver. He certainly wasn't gonna kick out on his own. The Challenger, meanwhile, hasn't stopped bleeding in a long time. Its severe and its scary. The Referee is starting to wonder if maybe he shouldn't call this whole thing off.
Just as he turns towards the timekeeper... a stirring.
Trevor Lee moves. Just a digit. Just an inch. But still. Its something. And then its more. The whole arm. A leg. He peels himself off the canvas. He brushes away the heaps of accumulating garbage that have fallen on to the ring from the fans throwing it at his goons. He grabs Shark Boy, brings him in close, and looks for a repeat in hauling him up to apply some Political Aspirations!
Ranallo: Lee's going for the Political Aspirations! Its that Million Dollar Dream! That chokehold again!
Graves: Shark Boy's as good as -
Free! Shark Boy's as good as free! The Shellraiser slips lose just seconds after the hold is applied! He pivots on his good leg and slams the bad one into Trevor's guts to double him over! Cade's all out of stuff to throw! Butcher can't break free! Grado and Burchill are cheering alongside all the fans in the place when Shark Boy goes for THE CHUMMER~!
But Lee shoves him off!
Shark Boy stumbles forward, placing all his weight on the effed up leg. He's off balance! Wounded! Lee makes the most of that suffering by grabbing his shoulders, whipping him around and hammering giving the Contender a taste of his own medicine! Trevor Lee hits Shark Boy with a monumental CHUMMMMMMMER~!!!
Graves: Amazing!
Ranallo: MAMA MIA!
Phillips: Trevor Lee hit The Chummer!
The Wrestling God hits Shark Boy with his own best move, stunning the former Champ into oblivion. Shark Boy rolls off and collapses. Lee sprawls, hooks both legs deep and shuts his eyes tight as he makes good on his promise to end this feud once and for all...
1...
2...
Kick out at 2.99999999999999!
The fans melt into puddles. They can't even handle it. Its getting dumb. Lee feels the same way as he rolls off and stares up the lights, flabbergasted and flummoxed. Shark Boy coughs up a mouthful of blood.
Ranallo: What is it going to take for this war to be over?
Phillips: At this point, I think someone would have to drop a nuclear bomb on the arena to keep these men down for the count.
Lee sits up and stares at Shark Boy, wide-eyed and stupefied. The Wrestling God may well be having a crisis of faith. For a split second, doubt creeps in, like maybe this heretic was right all along. But the moment soon passes. It gives way to a wave of righteous anger.
Trevor crawls on top of Shark Boy in a full mount. He grabs him by the mask in one hand so he can feed punches with the other. Ground-and-pounding the heck out of the Contender, Lee puts a beating on the guy while asking him what's it gonna take for him to break. Shark Boy's only answer is he refusal to die.
After a minute or so, he funs out of wind. The punches lose steam. They come fewer and further between as he gasses out. He doesn't know what else to hit the guy with. He just wants this to be done with. Trevor grabs Shark Boy's mask and tugs. He pulls. He pries. Shark Boy gets his hands up and fights back, not allowing The Mayor to rob him of his identity like that.
Ranallo: Per the stipulation, Shark Boy is only supposed to lose his mask if he loses...
Graves: But per the other stipulation, there's nothing to stop Trevor Lee from taking it from him right now.
The ensuing struggle results in a sort of compromise - Trevor Lee tears a strip down the middle of the mask - a diagonal scare from temple to cheek that exposes a chunk of human flesh beneath the fishy facade. Its a watershed moment. The seal is broken. Beneath the surface sleeps a monster. The Mayor inadvertently unleashes that same violent force of nature that Edge uncorked at Bad Blood - the last time Shark Boy won the UWF Championship.
Shark Boy spits a mouthful of blood up again - this time right into Trevor Lee's eyes, blinding him. While he's rolling and writhing all over the mat, this demonic, Shin Shark Boy stands up off the mat, powered by some unhallowed second wind. The fans who aren't haunted and horrified by the very sight of this Lovecraftian resurrection are going apespit.
Ranallo: Trevor Lee has awoken something rarely seen in Shark Boy...
Phillips: Edge provoked this sleeping giant and it cost him the UWF Championship. Has Trevor Lee just made the same mistake.
Shark Boy snatches Lee off the mat and hooks his arms around the Mayor as he frantically reaches out for the ropes. The Shellraiser wraps his arms around the throat to lock in the move that made him a champion once already - that lethal Peruvian Necktie that's famous for putting fools to sleep in seconds flat...
Except there's so much blood and sweat in the mix now that Lee is able to slip loose! He doesn't wait around for the Contender to get a second crack, either. The Wrestling God rolls under the bottom rope and immediately high-tails it up the ramp as fast as his battered body will let him. This act of cowardice sees a seriously negative reaction from the crowd.
Graves: How can these ingrates boo Trevor Lee like that? They're hypocrites! If they had a psychopath trying to choke them out, they're be running for the hills!
Ranallo: Yes, but none of them are claiming to be a Wrestling God, Corey.
Lee is tripping over himself on his way up the ramp. Shark Boy pursues, but even in is demonic form, he's slow going on account of the leg. He can shut out the pain as he hobbles after his victim, but he can't just pretend away the massive gash or the hunk of loose muscle and tendon dangling out of the wound.
At first, it seems like Trevor might be headed backstage - perhaps for the parking lot so he can get in a car, drive to the air port, and flee the country. Instead, he cuts left at the stage and scrambles towards the area where the pyrotechniques are controlled. He shoves security and the guys working their aside so he can get his grubby little mitts on the control panel.
Shark Boy is getting closer. Always closer.
Lee looks high and low for the button he wants. There are so many options. Its a big panel.
And still, Shark Boy is getting closer. Slowly. But surely.
Lee is sweating now. He was before on account of the wrestling. But this is different. This is new. This is panic.
With a trail of blood between him and the ring, Shark Boy moves in for the kill. He's at arm's length now.
In a fit of desperation, Lee just pounds two fists on the panel.
CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH
Perhaps he does have some divine power. How else could explain the luck - nay, the miracle - of his assault on the control room, random as it way, yielding such a fortuitous result? Somehow, its only Andy Williams' and Lance Cade's cages mechanisms being released. Both of them fall to the floor and bust apart on impact. Maybe they weren't so strong after all.
Of course the racket of it all draws Shark Boy's attention away from Lee. He turns and sees the goons of Harlan crawling out from the rubble, while inexplicably, his own allies have been left hung above the ring.
Phillips: What?!?! How is that even possible?
Graves: It's an act of God, Phillips... a Wrestling God!
Williams and Cade get up and rush Shark Boy. He staves off The Butcher with a hard right and shoves Cade aside, but this all leaves his back turned to Trevor Lee, who clobbers him across the back of the head with the same panel he just pounded on.
This secondary impact of the control board has sparklers going off all over the stage and the lights in the arena going haywire. A few random fireworks go off in the distance. Some broadcast partners lose their feeds. Worst off all, Shark Boy is down. He's down bad.
The Butcher and Cade pick themselves up and then, on the bosses orders, each hook an arm of Shark Boys and drag him back towards the squared circle. If the audience had any garbage left to throw, they surely would, but alas, they already chucked it.
Lee's thugs haul the already unconscious Shark Boy up into the ring. Grado and Burchill are rocking their cages, desperate to even the odds, but unable to. The former is reaching through the bars, trying as hard as he can to reach out and help. Its futile. Its tragic.
Phillips: This was supposed to be decided one-on-one. The UWF went above and beyond to ensure that Trevor Lee and Shark settled this feud alone together.
Ranallo: And once again, the Mayor of Harlan proves that there is no low he won't sink to if it means walking away with the championship.
Graves: Vinny Marseglia stopped Larry Sweeney's heart to win that same belt. Bray Wyatt buried Katsuyori Shibata in the catacombs of Paris. The greatest champions in Revolution history have been the men willing to do whatever it takes, and if anyone in that locker room isn't willing to cross that line, then they'll never hang with the men that are.
Cade grabs the arms, Williams grabs the feet. The lift Shark Boy up and pull him apart while Trevor Lee climbs the buckle on more time. The Mayor of Harlan leaps off the top and drives The Shellraiser damn near through the mat with a Coup D'état. His boots leave imprints in the torso. The ring boards crack under the landing. Lee rolls off the crumpled Contender, looks up at his boys, and tells them he wants to do it one more time.
Ranallo: No...
Phillips: Just end it already...
Yet again, The Butcher and his partner lift Shark Boy up so Lee can jump off the buckle with a diving stomp to break him in half. The deadly maneuver lands flush again. But that still isn't good enough for Lee. He gets up to his feet and hits a standing stomp - the Cave In - on the flattened Shark Boy. Then another. And another. Cade has to help him up cause he's exhausted and looking punch drunk as he lands standing stomp after standing stomp after standing stomp on Shark Boy until all hope is truly and finally snuffed out and he just collapses on top of Shark Boy for the pin...
1...
2...
3...
DING DING
YOUR WINNER...
AND STILL UWF CHAMPION...
TREVOR LEE!
Williams shoves the Referee aside when he tries to lift Lee's hand. Cade fetches the Championship belt to present to Lee, who needs to be assisted to his feet so he can hold it high.
The fans aren't booing. They're leaving. They're so mortified by the scene and the outcome. They don't even want to watch what happens next.
Ranallo: And there you have it, folks... in on of the most brutal encounters we've seen in long time, Trevor Lee has retained the title against Shark Boy, and in doing so, has also taken his mask from him.
Phillips: This isn't right. This isn't fair.
Graves: The Wrestling God is so far and beyond your basic little grasp of morality, Phillips.
Lee reaches down, grabs whatever's left of Shark Boy's mask and tears it away. He carries the pieces of it in one hand and the title belt in the other as he heads out of the ring and up the ramp with Cade and Williams in tow, his music playing all the while. Once they've disappeared backstage, the other shark cages lower down. Burchill looks shell shocked - just stunned silent. Grado, on the other hand, can't wait to get out of his cage.
The Referee unlocks his first and the Wee Chancer from the Tap End of Stevenson dives into the ring to check on his best friend. Burchill follows shortly thereafter. They're both kneeling next to the unmasked Shark Boy for a while, talking to him but not hearing anything back...
Ranallo: Where are the EMTs? Damnit, we need all hands on deck with medical personnel!
Phillips: They should turn the cameras off. Nobody needs to see this.
Before the medics can arrive, though, Shark Boy stirs. The faint glimmer of hope flashes across Grado's eyes. He looks at Burchill, nods to him, and together, they help Shark Boy to his feet. Even without his mask, he's still their friend. Their brother. Their fellow C.U.N.T.
From years ago on the blue brand to today on the green on, they've endured the test of time together, overcoming odds and obstacles just for the way they looked - for being unorthodox. Even in defeat, they're standing tall together now, and the fans that stuck around give it up for the affable, inspiring, and ever-lasting trio. The beating heart of the UWF for such a long time.
Ranallo: You gotta give it up for the C.U.N.T.
Graves: Even I can admit we've never seen anything like them...
Phillips: The thing about - OH MY GAWD! NO!
The unmasked, unhinged, bloodied-beyond-recognition Shark Boy snaps. He shoves Burchill aside so hard that the pirate tumbles clear out the ring, cracking his head on the arena floor. Grado turns around, shocked. Shark Boy - or whoever the hell this man is - then clasps his best friend across the chest and slams him into the mat with a Rock Bottom!
Ranallo: MAMA MIA!
Phillips: What the hell is Shark Boy doing?
Graves: I don't thin that's Shark Boy anymore...
This animal... this soulless, treacherous, unrecognizable person... this Shark kneels over Grado for a short moment in an arena shocked into silence. When the boos come in to fill the vacuum, he simply rolls under the ropes and limps up the ramp, leaving a trail of bodies, confusion and blood in his wake.
END OF SHOW
Credits
MJF vs Kingston - Crann
Spike vs Joe - Dresden
JBL vs Balor - Jye
McIntyre vs Guerrero - Gunn
Batista vs Buzzard - Sam
Cassidy vs Knight, Zayn vs Edge, Ospreay vs O'Reilly - Danny
Shark Boy vs Trevor Lee - Fauche